#inquiry • kingdom hearts

[mariocki]

New Scotland Yard: Error of Judgement (2.8, LWT, 1972)

"Well, why didn't Stevens identify this girl?"

"Oh, he said she was only a teenager, he didn't want to create family problems for her."

"You let a man hang because you've got family problems? I take it we did try to find her? This girl?"

"It was up to the defense to produce their own witnesses."

"You didn't even look for her?"

"Look, if we'd been asked to by the defense solicitors, if we'd been directed by a judge, if we'd known who to look for, if we'd had a description - nobody even produced a name for the girl!"

"Therefore she didn't exist."

"Not necessarily."

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Can you please elaborate on the Kingdom hearts Sonic au? I want to hear more of your ideas!

Ah, I would love to! I apologize it's taken be a bit to get to this ask, anon, but I need you to know that it made my day when I got it🥺❤️

Okay, so as I mentioned in this post, it starts out with Sora and Riku being Sonic and Tails respectively. I must confess that this au is more or less an excuse to microwave in my brain scenes of Sonic and Tails taking the place of Sora and Riku in certain Soriku moments™, so it’s not fully fleshed out yet 😂😅

But! I'd be happy to share some of my au thoughts/plans (under the cut) with you, anon😊

ㅤ

Character Placements

Though I haven't fully figured everything out yet, I have figured out certain character placements and ages. The following are those that I have planned already:

Sora – Sonic (Age 16 as of kh1)

Riku – Tails (Age 15 as of kh1)

Kairi – Sally (Age 15 as of kh1)

Naminé – Elias (Age 16 (physically)/Age 1 (chronologically) as of kh2)

Roxas – Shadow (Age 17 (physically)/Age 1 (chronologically) as of kh2)

Xion – Surge (Age 17 (physically)/Age 1 (chronologically) as of kh2)

Axel/Lea – Manic (Age 27 as of KH2)

Olette – Nicole (Age 17 as of KH2)

Demyx – Rouge (Physical age not yet determined)

Larxene/Elrena – Jet (Physical age not yet determined)

Ienzo/Zexion – Kitsunami (Age 18 as of KH2)

Even/Vexen – Starline (Age 51 as of KH2)

Ansem the Wise – Eggman (Age 63 as of KH2)

Xemnas – Infinite (Age 31 (physically)/Age 11 (chronologically) as of KH2)

Ansem – Zero (Age 30 (physically)/Age 10 (chronologically) as of kh1)

Xehanort – Mephiles (Age 81 as of BBS)

Vanitas – Metal Sonic (Age 16 (physically)/Age 4 (chronologically) as of BBS)

Ventus – Charmy (Age 16 (physically)/Age ??? (chronologically) as of BBS)

Terra – Knuckles (Age 20 as of BBS)

Eraqus – Silver (Age 81 as of BBS)

Vector (Haven't picked an age or a time period yet but he will most likely be traveling in the way Uncle Scrooge does just. Not Mr. Moneybags by any means)

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General AU notes

The following are misc notes about the au, my intentions/choices with it, and disclaimers of a sort:

Canon events from kh are subject to change, just based upon the personalities and motivations of the Sonic characters put in specific positions. I do not know how divergent this will be yet, but it will be divergent.

The FF and Disney characters/worlds will still be present, I just cannot promise the exact worlds or their order will stay the same as in the original. Because Sonic doesn't line up 1 to 1 with Sora, logically the worlds are going to have differing themes overall comparatively.

Just because I placed a certain Sonic character as a certain KH character does not mean this Sonic character is gonna line up 1 to 1 with them. I'm hoping to balance making them reminiscent of their kh counterparts in ways while also distinctly making them them. So some characters will be more like they are canonically, shifting the narrative accordingly, and others will be more shaped by their placement in the narrative.

I love kh so much but as I am not constrained by audience or by corporate choices there will be some specific personal changes for this au. An example of this is that the characters taking the places of Ven, Terra, and Aqua will likely be aging rather than staying the same ages (assuming they end up in similar placements).

I think if you've read this far in the post you already know, but I should make clear that this au is just as much about crafting a Sonic with the Sonic characters within the kh story as it is about Sontails. This is not to say that the entire focus of this au at all times is Sontails, but (much like Sora and Riku's relationship in kh) it is very much baked into the core of it.

ㅤ

Sadly, I am still yet undecided whether the Sonic characters should remain as Mobian, but I am leaning towards keeping them mobian at this time.

Now, while canon Sonic is a special hedgehog, there's just something a bit interesting about "just a guy" Sonic to me. In this case, someone who is not inherently born to be some chosen one. In this au, he isn't the fastest thing alive, but he does have some natural speed, making him naturally fast compared to some peers. It's a skill that can be improved with practice, but it’s nothing supernatural

Au Ideas

The following are some of the ideas I've been spinning in my head since this au's conception, meaning it's a mix of things that could be in the proper au, will not be in the proper au, will not go the same way in this au, or ideas that could still make their way in in some form:

Knuckles (as Terra) bequeathing the keyblade to Tails (as Riku):

Tails is also a bit more cautious of Knuckles and is less confident in his presentation of himself compared to how Riku was, but he ultimately can't contain his curiosity and approaches Knuckles.

Originally, I imagined this scene simply with the characters in the au filling it out, not considering exactly how this scene would play out in the context of this au. So it's fairly close to the original scene. It starts out with Sonic the Hedgehog, 6 years old, and Tails the Fox, 5 years old. His uncle takes him and Tails out to what he and his friends will later dub "the play island". The hedgehog and fox have known each other practically their whole lives, and they go to the play island together as often as they can (after all, Sonic’s uncle can't take them all the time).

Aside from the obvious differences in how characters speak and hold themselves, I imagined Sonic running ahead while Tails lags behind around the time he notices Knuckles at the shore. While I imagine Sora did this either because it took a moment to notice or because he was excited he was beating Riku in the race (or a mix of both), Sonic does slow down briefly (when he realizes Tails is no longer running). However, his philosophy is that even though it's "no fun" if Tails isn't trying too, he's not gonna just slow his role or stop the race just cause Tails is moving so slow. Perhaps there's also some part of him who thinks that Tails will pick up the pace if Tails sees him ahead.

Like Riku at this time, Tails wants to become stronger. He wants to be cool and strong like Sonic, and strong like that one person who he heard left for other worlds and found strength there. However, Tails doesn't simply want to be strong like Sonic. He wants to be strong enough to protect the things that matter in the same way Sonic can.

What I'm trying to say is that despite not yet being able to put the words to it or to explain all that he feels and wants to do, Tails is just starting to become frustrated with the state of things. So wanting to be strong and wanting to be like Sonic and admitting he has things he'd like to protect is...only the beginning of his growth.

And so Knuckles bequeaths the keyblade to Tails not only because of the great light he sees within him, but because of his conviction. Tails is only a kid, but Knuckles can see how genuinely serious he is about his wishes to become stronger and to "protect the things that matter". Knuckles cannot only relate, but can respect this.

??? (as Aqua), telling Sonic (as Sora) to take care of Tails.

This is another one I'm not sure will go the same way in the proper au, but I have had semi-vivid imaginings of my Aqua stand in saying something akin to canon Aqua's speech, only for Sonic to be all "Pfff of course I will!" like there's no question he'd stick by Tails and watch out for him and that it's laughable ??? (Aqua) even said that the way they did.

In canon, it was definitely sweet when Sora was like "Of course I like him! He's my best friend!", and I don't doubt that Sonic could admit he likes Tails at this point, but he is still Sonic. Which...pretty much means that he's going to be at least a bit rude in this interaction and not fully take it seriously😂

Meanwhile Tails probably feels nice about Sonic admitting or implying in some form that he likes having him around.

The necklace theory

Because of Sonic and Tails' placements and ages, things cannot just play out as we theorize they do in canon. Or, to elaborate, it's unlikely that the way this would progress in this au would be Sonic crying about shooting stars hitting the islands and Tails proclaiming he'd protect him. Rather, I think I have some ideas drawing from some of Naminé's fake memories.

My main idea is that after a particularly scary thunderstorm (while Sonic and Tails are sleeping over on the play island), the two happen to be present for a meteor shower just afterwards. Tails is still shaken from the thunderstorm, and so Sonic attempts to make him smile (both because Tails is watching something he'd doubtless find beautiful or fascinating usually without any enjoyment, because Tails being sad makes him uncomfortable because he doesn't know how to handle it, and to sort of fill the silence so to speak). He stands up on the paopu tree as the stars fall and begins to talk "what ifs" aloud about the stars.

And so Sonic starts talking about what he'd do if the shooting stars hit the islands, confidently talking about how he'd knock them back and fend them off with his wooden sword. And then as he goes off about what ifs (like "what if the stars were actually spaceships and 'aliens' were to attack", and stuff like that), about how he can defeat anything that comes his way (all showing off and talking himself up), he ends by telling Tails that he doesn't have to worry about anything like that, because he (Sonic) would handle it.

And so Tails (who's begun to calm down and has uttered a laugh a few times over these last minutes), asks Sonic semi-seriously and semi-jokingly what he would do and how he would handle it if shooting stars hit the islands and they began to sink.

To answer, Sonic starts by going off about how it's impossible because (again) he'd totally fend off those shooting stars, but in the impossible and highly unlikely instance this turns out to happen...

Sonic turns his head, shooting a smile down at Tails, as he admits (all matter of factly) that of course Tails would be there.

Even if the islands began to sink, he could trust that Tails would be there to hold onto him, to keep them both above water

This causes Tails to smile too. Perhaps in his heart he's conflicted, emotions both positive and negative and confusing are swirling within his heart, but he knows it makes him happy that Sonic trusts in what is true (that Tails always plans to be there with him, and to do what he can to help him). In this moment, his heart beams, no matter his confusing feelings.

And then, perhaps, as Sonic sleeps and Tails lies awake after the meteor shower, as Tails ruminates on this all, he wishes more than ever that he could be as confident as Sonic was. He wishes more than ever that he could confidently protect Sonic the way Sonic does for him.

He knows that he's not there yet, that he isn't like Sonic, but he makes an oath to them both in the silence of the night.

Sonic knows (or should know by now) of the charm Tails always keeps in his pockets. It was something he's had since he was a young kit, and it's always been his good luck charm. It's importance to him cannot be overstated.

As Sonic sleeps, Tails loops his good luck charm around his neck, clasps it end to end, turns it into a necklace. He makes an oath to become stronger, to become Sonic's equal, to become strong enough to keep Sonic safe also, and he prays that until he can fulfill this oath, his good luck charm may keep Sonic safe for him.

Sonic is confused to find it looped around his neck when he wakes up, but when he expresses his confusion (essentially "why would Tails give me this thing that's so precious to him he wears"), Tails doesn't elaborate much. He only insists that it's a gift, that it's Sonic's now.

And so Sonic (not quite understanding) shrugs. After all, who'd deny a gift like that?

But...what makes this particularly special is that Sonic chooses to keep wearing this charm always. I'd like to think that even when others on the islands growing up try to give him trinkets and bracelets and things, confess their feelings with wearable gifts, or anything like that, he refuses to accept or to use them just to spare someone's feelings. So it means something that he becomes unconcerned with the idea of wearing Tails' special charm and just casually wears it always. I think it means a lot, even if Sonic most likely didn't think too hard about why he would turn wearing the thing into a habit.

Tails gave it to him, it's special to Tails, and Sonic seems to like wearing it, so it’s that simple. What reason would he have to give it back to Tails or throw it away?

The Dark Margin Scene

Tails starts out inherently believing in the good in people, but as he grows up, as he watches, and through the events of kh2, he becomes a bit more cynical (sort of like Nine). He wants to believe that everyone has a glimmer of "goodness" so to speak in them more than he truly believes it. And so though Sonic's sense of freedom, his nonchalance, the way he casually inspires people begins to annoy Tails as he progresses to his worst point during KH1 era, he ultimately is jealous of Sonic. He does admit to Sonic that he's jealous during the dark margin scene.

Not just because Sonic was always cooler, stronger, and just out of reach, but because Sonic can be so carefree in following his heart.

As annoying as it can be and as it was during those past moments, he envies how Sonic is able to take on anything that comes his way even when he seems to not be taking those things seriously. And while not meant to be an insult here, he sometimes envies that Sonic doesn’t quite think very much. He envies the way Sonic can just do things without being trapped in his own head.

Idk honestly I just think a lot about this piece.

I'd like to think that (like with Riku), Tails' desire to have the ability to protect Sonic sort of becomes warped first by his desperation for Sonic to need him to keep him around as a constant, and then warped further during kh1 era as he becomes so desperate to have the strength he desired that he simply needs to prove he's stronger than Sonic. I can definitely see this leading to moments between kh1 and kh2 where Tails does sort of have an act of being better than Sonic in certain moments, so it would be humbling for him to admit here that while there was a time he'd thought himself better than Sonic, ultimately he has always admired and envied him.

The end of DDD

While in canon there are many times Sonic saves Tails, I do think it's funny to imagine Tails saving Sonic in a big way this time around (saving Sonic from becoming a vessel). And while it logically wouldn't go the exact way as in kh canon, I do think it would be cute if Tails is just glad to see Sonic alive but bewildered by Sonic's excitement over him finally being awake. I also just like the thought of DDD/KH3 era Tails finally achieving his goal and filling the role of partner for Sonic rather than side kick

The child of destiny vs the regular kid turned hero

As I mentioned earlier, while he does have natural speed, I did want Sonic and Tails to fit a similar dichotomy to Sora and Riku when thinking up this au. While all in all they're both special in canon, Sonic is very often upheld as this hero who performs feats no one else can, making him stand out against others. And so what I aim to do here (partially for my own amusement) is to present a Sonic who is just a kid who has his own talents. Sure he's admired and he's faster than the bulk of his peers, but he's ultimately just a regular kid. But because he's the guy everyone expects to be a special hero while everyone expects to see Tails by his side as the sidekick, I love the idea of Tails being the one who's not like the other kids (who's possibly a different being they cannot imagine). Even if he doesn't seem like the hero, Tails as the child of destiny, the one projected to be a force of nature one day.

And so I think it hits harder (since Sonic has more "protagonist energy" so to speak) with the reveal that none of these things he gained were meant to be his. Sonic isn't a chosen hero, he just so happened to inherit the keyblade from Tails. He stepped into a hero's role that was likely not designed or destined to be his.

But like with Sora, he doesn't simply have all the things he does only because he inherited it from someone else (the idea of not actually having anything by his own merit), he actually works to grow and become stronger.

Idk something interesting to me about Tails being "the true chosen one" while Sonic is just some kid

Some first meeting musings

The following were some of the first words I wrote for this post:

"Growing up, Tails had always been enamored by Sonic. He'd taken to following the hedgehog around, even as Sonic avoided making connections with anyone else on the islands and tended to run ahead. But then...Tails' presence sort of became an inevitability. Wherever Sonic went, he would follow close behind, one of the only ones ever willing to to keep trying to keep up with him.

And so now they're here. Sonic had never officially said they were friends back then, but Tails liked to believe it anyways. After all, whenever they needed partners in class, Sonic always picked him. Whenever Sonic wanted to go to the play island, he'd take Tails along. Whenever Tails would show up at Sonic's house with some new contraption, Sonic would be excited to see what it did (as long as it wasn't boring of course). He was the only one seemingly allowed to follow Sonic around everywhere, even when the hedgehog was in a particularly bad mood.

So, yeah. Sure, Tails would find out that Sonic could be a jerk, or was a bit vain, but even at Sonic's most bored or annoyed moments, Tails could place solace in the fact that Sonic must consider him something of a friend. He liked his praise and kept no other company but him."

While it would doubtless take some fleshing out and a bit of reworking, I do imagine combining their canonical first meeting with the whole "growing up like normal kids" thing, and I think Tails would already be a bit interested in Sonic to begin with, but I still like the idea of him becoming more enamored after Sonic fends off his bullies.

Sally filling Kairi's role

Just to be clear, it isn't 1 to 1. Sally is going to be more proactive by default, and I don't intend to barely touch upon her existence or to solely make her revolve around Sonic. However, there were a few reasons I originally decided Sally would fill this role.

The first being that I would like to depict a comphet narrative surrounding Sonic and Sally, where they ultimately grow very close, but they're under that societal pressure, believing that the end goal of their relationship can only be as lovers if they intend to still be close, which begins to clash with the reality of the situation. After all of the Sonic media I've consumed, Sally felt to me like the only candidate that Sonic would genuinely like to keep as a close friend, but could still struggle over the true nature of his feelings and the kind of relationship they should have. I can genuinely see him believing he must like her romantically due to their close bond before eventually having to come to the conclusion that he doesn't actually want to change their relationship into a traditionally romantic one. I also feel like she's a good candidate for Tails to become jealous of. I can't really explain why, but I feel this.

The second, but simple set of reasoning is that she is a princess in the canons she appears in and ultimately fancies herself a force of good, so making her the secret princess of heart is funny to me. I also think it will be fun to inflict on her an adversion to change

The third...yeah honestly she was the only female character I felt could fit this position and could be an important person to Sonic growing up while also fitting into my desired narrative

Idk if you can think of a soriku moment I probably stuck Sonic and Tails in those spots and imagined it. Sonic asserting that Tails could never truly hate him or turn against him save me. Sonic and Tails being content just being together, especially now that everyone else is safe save me. Sonic and Tails growing up together as childhood friends save me.

One final idea I came up with for this au that I'll leave you with

As a kid, Tails liked to read stories and fairy-tales of fantastical places, of knights and magic. Of course, everyone wonders what's out there (what other places could possibly exist outside of the islands they grew up on), what one could find if they just set sail one day, but sometimes he'd dreamed he'd be thrust into these types of stories. He'd envied the subject of that local myth (idk somewhere between myth and rumor) who left the islands and found a whole world out there and great strength.

Perhaps Destiny Islands never really felt like home to him—at least, not until he met Sonic. Perhaps, as he grew older and a bit more bitter and he feared losing his place in Sonic's life, he wished again more than anything to leave this place, to see the worlds, and to create a new home with Sonic for the two of them.

ㅤ

I do thank you for the ask, anon! I have more thoughts in me, but I hope what you've seen thus far satisfies you, and I hope to deliver more detailed and solidified concepts at some point in the future that people will enjoy as much as I do😊

[worldly-diversity]

@nights-fear​ ○ 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕩 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕦𝕩𝕚𝕒 ○

          ⤷  『  “You can beg better than that, I think.”  』

The words light a different kind of fire in him, one that makes his eyes narrow and his jaw set in a way that denotes his stubborn desire to do the exact opposite from what is being asked of him. After all, what does it matter if he's being obstinate? Even being cooperative will not guarantee his freedom, certainly not after how spectacularly he failed to usurp Xemnas…

Still, this isn't to his advantage either. Saix knows exactly how to wind him up by now and had in fact gotten him so far as to say please, to beg for relief from the pain and the pleasure mixing so potently within him as to leave him a gasping and disheveled mess.

Gone was the meticulously well-kept man who had once ruled the halls of Castle Oblivion, in his place arose a man with wild rose locks and a piercing gaze that radiated more heat than mocking these days. He was more marked too, if not with scars then at least the bruises his tormentors left him with.

"I'm sure I can." He answers, a veneer of calm lilting his tone. They both know it won't last long. "A pity I won't be satisfying your demands." He will be, they both know it. Such is their cycle after all… Saix comes to torment him, hurting him and fanning the flames of his arousal and desire only to make him beg pathetically for relief, the very action of which raises Marluxia's hackles and makes his heels dig down in defiance, from which Saix subsequently takes great enjoyment as he proceeds to break that stubbornness with growing skill and expertise.

He leans forward in his chains, bruised and battered and horny and yet ever blazing as he speaks, soft and biting against the blunet's lips.

"So make me, then."

.

[theivorybilledwoodpecker]

My headcanon for why Durin decided to lie about the table is not just that Gil-galad was being rude to him, but he was being rude to Elrond.

You notice that he does it after Elrond tries to diffuse the situation and Gil-galad rebuffs him.

Gil-galad: Before our wines ascend, Lord Durin, I should like to commend you. Khazad-dûm has been called the quietest of Dwarven kingdoms, but in recent months, your furnaces are said to be burning as bright as the eyes of Aulë himself. Your mines delving ever deeper. To what do you credit this new invigoration?

Durin: (internally: Nosey asshole!) I might ask the same of Lindon. Shipping off its warriors, expandin' its cities. Bit sudden for Elves, no? Typically takes you people weeks just to decide to take a sh...

Elrond: If I may... The hand of time crawls so slowly for our kind. We often overlook the years of effort we perceive as taking but a moment. In so doing, I would not wish to offend our guest.

Gil-galad: I would think our Dwarven friend far too stout of heart to be offended by an honest inquiry.

Durin: (Internally: Time to take him down a few pegs) I have an honest inquiry for you. From where did you procure the table?

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

♡ Stay - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

♡ Fluff ♡

A/N: This is based on the film Kingdom of Heaven. This is not about the real King Baldwin. Also this is set pre-film

TW: Leprosy

The army had returned from battle earlier in the day and after tending to her duties she could finally relax.

Y/n sat in the servant chambers, book in hand.

The day had been strenuous for all and everyone who worked and lived in the castle was absolutely exhausted by nightfall.

She was finally getting settled into her book when someone knocked loudly against the wooden door.

“You may enter,” she called out without looking up.

The door pushed open to reveal a rather tired looking Tiberias, still dressed in formal uniform.

“The king wishes to see you madam” he said sternly.

“Of course sir” y/n said quickly, getting to her feet to follow him out the door without hesitation.

Since she had been promoted to Baldwin's private maid, it was painfully obvious that he had taken a liking to her.

They were the same age, 16 and a half and had been acquainted briefly since she had begun work at the castle at age 13 after the death of her parents.

They stopped outside the large, wooden doors that lead to the king's chambers.

Tiberias knocked on the door and pushed it open when he heard a tired voice allowing it to be opened.

He shoved her into the room and shut the door, leaving her alone with the king.

“Your majesty” she said, bowing her head to the young king, who sat on the edge of his large bed.

“y/n, you're a sight for sore eyes” he said gently, looking at her with a kind expression.

She smiled warmly at his words.

She couldn't deny the fact that she had taken a liking to him also.

He was charming and quite frankly gorgeous with softly curled, blonde hair, sculptured face and stunning blue eyes. Despite the painful looking sores that had begun to form on his perfect face, he was beautiful.

Even with them, he was wonderful.

“Anything I can assist you with sir?” y/n asked.

“Yes. Please, come sit by me” he gestured to the space on the bed beside him.

When she sat down, she turned to him, awaiting the next command.

“I have a request,” Baldwin declared, inhaling. He sounded almost nervous.

“Of course your majesty, anything” she tilted her head to the side at the inquiry.

“I don't wish to be alone tonight” he paused. “I have seen so much death in the past few weeks. Can you just stay with me until I fall asleep?”

Y/n couldn't help but smile at the innocent request. He seemed so small at that moment. Like a scared child.

It hurt her heart to see him like this.

“Of course I can. Why don't you get yourself comfortable and I could read to you if you like?”

He nodded, a feeling of relief washing over him at the accepted request and he began to climb under the covers as y/n stood to retrieve the book he was currently reading from his desk.

Once he got comfortable under the thick covers, she sat down beside him, sitting up against the headboard of the bed.

She looked down at Baldwin who was looking up at her with anticipation, a small smile on his tired face.

Y/n opened the book to the page with the bookmark in it and began to read.

Baldwin felt his eyelids growing heavier with each word she read. He moved his bandaged hand to cover a soft yawn before letting his eyes fall shut.

About fifteen minutes had past and y/n was not really paying attention to anything but reading the book out loud, focused on keep her voice steady.

She was abruptly snapped out of her focus by a soft weight suddenly pressing against her upper arm.

Y/n looked to her side and a small smile crossed her face when she saw a mess of blonde curls resting against her.

Baldwin had dozed off and was now leaning against her arm that sat by her side, holding the book. He was fast asleep, she could even hear him snoring lightly.

Y/n couldnt help but chuckle at how adorable he looked like this and how fast he fell asleep.

He must have been exhausted, the poor thing.

But now her job was done, so she had to go.

Trying her best not to move suddenly, so as to not wake him, she lifted the arm that he was resting on slowly.

She held her position when he stirred a little, groaning softly before turning to his side and wrapping his arms around her waist.

She remained still until she heard his breathing even back out to soft snores.

Now she couldn't move. His head rested against her side, practically in her lap and his arms were wrapped all the way around her waist.

Y/n sighed and surrendered to the fact that she would not be leaving that night.

She lifted up the arm that he was previously resting on and carefully placed it around his back, pulling him closer.

This was not allowed.

But she didn't care. Her lord needed comfort and she could provide it.

Eventually, the warmth of the room combined with Baldwin’s gentle snores lulled her into a light sleep.

---------------------

The following morning, y/n was the first to wake.

Her eyes snapped open and she immediately took in her surroundings. It was early. The first light had begun to shine through the window, and she was still in the king's chambers.

She turned her head to see that Baldwin was still sprawled out against her, arms wrapped around her thin body tightly, as if in an attempt to make sure she stayed with him. His legs were slung over hers as well, pinning her down completely.

His quiet snores told her that he was still sound asleep. Her nightdress even felt a little damp where his head was resting either from him sweating or drooling.

She figured both.

She couldn't help but smile at the sight. It was strange seeing her powerful lord and king so helpless.

Maybe not so infallible after all.

Slowly, she moved her hand up from where it was resting on his back to run her fingers through his messy hair.

The young king groaned softly at her touch and buried himself further into her warm body.

Baldwin’s eyes fluttered open and he put his head up to look around.

His eyes lit up and a small smile crept across his face when he saw her still beside him.

“You stayed” he mumbled, his eyes half closed, looking as if he was about to fall back to sleep any second.

“Of course I did,” y/n replied, caressing the back of his head gently.

“Why don’t you get some more rest. You look exhausted”

The sleepy smile didn't leave his face. He simply nodded and curled up against her once more, closing his eyes.

Before he drifted off again, he squeezed her tighter, muttering a quiet “stay”.

“Of course my king” y/n replied, but she didn’t think he heard it.

[endless-ineffabilities]

dragonfire

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

masterlist ▪︎ word count: <1k

The one in which Aemond Targaryen ponders over an existence without you. (i.e. a little something caused by my recently resurgent Aemond brainrot)

"So, what are you planning to do?"

Daeron's question hangs in the air. For a moment, Aemond fails to grasp the subject of his inquiry. But his mind, as it always does, goes back to you.

Having returned from visiting you in the library, Daeron found him smiling to himself in the godswood, like some pathetic, lovestruck youth.

"I am not sure what you mean." Aemond turns, regarding his younger brother with a lingering look.

"Will you ever confess to her how you feel?"

Has he become that easy to read? How he feels. Has he even admitted that truth to himself? He casts his gaze downward, kicking over a pebble with the sole of his boot. "It has not crossed my mind," he says. A lie, plain as day.

Daeron tries another approach, knowing how difficult it is to elicit the best reaction from his stoic brother. "Well, look about the matter in this way - what would your life be like without her in it? What if you never knew her at all?"

Aemond scowls in distaste. He is not too inclined to be analysed in such a way. But his thoughts have been influenced by Daeron's questioning. What would everything be like without you?

He would still be Prince Aemond Targaryen. He would still possess his royal devotion and sense of duty.

But without you?

"It would not be right," Aemond confesses. "It would be a plain cruelty to myself were I to entertain the thought. I suppose I would go on, as I am, but I have no desire to."

Days without your companionship, and nights without the thought of you intertwined with him in his chambers? How dull it would all be.

"She's like... like my dragonfire. My strength. Only she can ever have any true power over me."

Only you would be permitted to. The influence of his family, and of his status - they stand no chance. If you asked him to renounce his titles, and to sail together on a ship to Yi Ti, Aemond knows he would do so. For you.

And it terrifies him. He was raised to be methodical. To not be rash in his decisions. He has always upheld his family and his personal ambition above all else. But what terrifies him even more is the possibility that you would not be so receptive of his affections. And that, one day, duty would demand him be wed to another Lady who isn't you.

So he is resolute is not letting that happen.

"I would be the most content man in all of the Seven Kingdoms if I could live out my days with her as my Lady wife." The sentiment flows out of him as naturally as taking a breath. "If she will have me," he adds, softly.

Daeron smiles in agreement, before offering the simplest course of action. "So take her to be your wife. There is no doubt in my mind that she will have you."

"It is not that easy."

"What if some other Lord will ask for her hand - "

"Then I will take pleasure in feeding Vhagar her next meal."

Daeron simply laughs, patting Aemond on the shoulder. "Take heart, brother. No Lord can surpass you."

"Hmm." Of course not.

"I shall take my leave," Daeron says. "Oh, and if you change your mind about her, I would not be averse to asking for her hand, myself."

Aemond stiffens, glowering at Daeron with a storm brewing in his eye. For a split second, he considers having to duel his brother, if it would come to that. Felling him, if need be. For you.

His own kin. He has done it before, after all. And this time, it would be for the greatest of causes - the battle for your heart.

"Gods," Daeron bursts in a fit of laughter. "Aemond, I only jest. We do not need any more infighting in our family than we already have."

Aemond exhales in relief as his brother departs, leaving him with the realization that he would actually resort to such extreme measures in order to be with you.

Seven hells, he is well and truly fucked.

[ladythornofrivia]

Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part One)

🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉

Next Chapter

summary: modern!reader woke up in Westeros after getting drunk.

pair: aemond x reader

warnings & disclaimer: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant but is secretly a softie, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, jealousy, stalking, virginity loss, obsession, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Pro-Green, Reader is a green supporter. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader).

a/n: it’s official! It’s here! I hope you enjoy my fanfic series of ‘Kingdom of Fire and Blood’.

Chapter One: The Dark Uproar

In a realm of dragons and knights,

There lays with conquer and fear, from scorching summer through bleak winters, through life of air and fire and ashes.

In a realm of nobility and law, in the halls of mountain and sea,

the green star has shed upon the dark, cloudless sky, wedged upon the shrouded waters of Westeros.

The green star has emerged.

“Seize her! Don’t let her get away!” the man pointed at you dashing away from the scenery.

It’s a dream. You were sure that it’s a dream. Dreams occurred in a blurry vision, not by transparency. Dreams are often—and easily—forgotten once awake after the newborn daylight arises.

In a midst of pursuit, you retraced back your steps. You went at your friend’s celebration, then eat and watched anime— you didn’t have much vigor to spare for removing your makeup due to sleepiness. The last thing you ever did was you resting on your warm bed without a change of clothing, now dry and shivering, laying down on a half-parched sand, half-asleep while unsure of what’s happening before your arrival. You were unconscious deeply in your sleep you weren’t aware of the commotion you have caused, awoken by the young knight, who found you in the brink of nightfall—who fled and carried you—travelled within distance for three days.

Under a huffed breath, legs and feet numbed as you carried yourself away to stray paths where band of guards weren’t able to trace you accurately. You’re much lighter and faster with sprinting; due to their armor, they couldn’t move they so desire. Even more so when some guards have horses with them. Or hounds barking with thirst for a good gnaw on your youthful flesh.

Until now, you’re steadfast with rush. Harsh wind blasted in your earholes at the stallion’s speed.

Your mind is raced with previous encounter, mind occupied with millions of panic inquiries.

~ before the chase ~

Previously, with your skin and bones beneath your tight crop top shirt and tennis skirt quivering at a spine-tingling weather, despite the lack of storming wind, you have no idea where to begin on what to say to the young knight but offering him a small yet timid smile to lessen the intensity of cumbersome fate that’s forcefully thrusted upon you, oblivious and frightened, shaking like a grumpy feline that despises water or anything that touches the feline.

Upon the yearnings of a weeping locked inside your heaving chest, of begging and wanting to go home was futile, estranged within a foreign land. As the vexed fate of anxiety clambered into your heart, the staggering breaths and rasps in your voice and your loud thoughts has been noticed by a young man in fancy armor, bestowing you with a relieved grin etched on his weary features. You’re certain that Halloween is over.

“You have awaken,” he said with a brightened grin, though you weren’t focused on the sound of his voice, but saw his lips shifted.

Noticing the young man’s eyes, you were positive that no one wouldn’t rescue a stranger such as yourself. Groaning, you leaned your back against over the bulkiness of a tumbled tree. Fire flickered and crackled like bones snapped to pieces.

“Can you hear me, my lady?” he asked, alarmed yet almost as quiet; he didn’t wish to see you alert under his aid.

“My lady,” you repeated, lifting your heavy-numbing head, confused as you were shaking with your eyes sealed with bursting pink stars flowing in your black vision, ears, head and heart pounded against you wakened state. Sighing, you resumed with, “How long have I been unconscious?”

“For three days,” he said, the soft outline of his lips curled upward, as if he was relieved to see you alive and well. Your eyes examined him, spotting the clean armor and a long sword carried in his sheath.

“What happened?”

“I saw you lying unconscious, so I have to come and save you, hoping that you’re alive.”

Everything was bizarre at this point.

“Save me?” you asked the boy, subconscious, coughing out the thick, salted water, clutching your chest tight, pounding for the leftover to drain.

“Yes, my lady,” the young man said with a kind smile, but his glassy eyes beamed against your frightful ones, covered in soot, despite being drenched. “I was sent by my father for a further alliance with another house, but as soon as I left the castle, I found lying you unconscious in the midst of the ocean. I have swam my way to rescue you.”

“Where did you find me exactly? I’m all wet,” you commented, lips curled in disgust your clothes are caked in black sand and puddle.

“I found you by the shores, and took you in quick before anyone could search on the grounds.”

Your head was pounding.

“Shores?”

“At Blackwater Bay,” he explained.

Blackwater Bay, you thought as your fingernails scraped onto your wet scalp. That name sounds familiar.

The back of your head was pounding. “Are we still at Blackwater Bay?”

“We travelled within three days while you were in your subconscious state. A fewer miles ahead and you’re already in the kingdom.”

Then the skies filled with an animalistic roar, screeching like nails on a chalkboard.

Your ears covered and shoulder blades flinched at the long, grating sound.

Your shoulders flinched as you said, “What the hell is that?”

The young man still grinned, remaining silenced from your projected inquiry.

“They’re still frightened of the sound,” is all he said. “Of the light.”

You eyed on him with perplexed expression resting on your features.

“What light?” you wondered. “What did you mean when you ‘they’re still frightened of the sound’?”

“Dragons,” the young man said, eyes twinkled. “You came down here with the light, and that’s what’s causing the uproar.”

You found his cryptic statement alarmingly bizarre due to his faint enthusiasm.

“We’re reaching close to our destination,” he said, but you still don’t comprehend.

Bewildered, before you could ask another, the clanging sounds of metal and flickering flames on a torch and countless heavy stomps dashed on its way to your direction.

“Allow me to escort you to safety. These guards are brutal than ravage beasts,” he said to you. “I can’t let a young maiden die in vain.”

Your breath held in shortly.

“Which way should I go? Is there a safe spot for me to hide?”

“Take the nearest path down on a pebbled road and hide. From there, you’ll see the narrow passage, one where no one uses. Traitors and spies lurking about the lower grounds.” and kept heading The young man pushed you, guided you and instructed you to conceal behind the large and sharp boulder, while your legs shaken, air colder than ice. However, another realization dawned upon your wake. You have nowhere to go. Not in this foreign land.

Thoughts conjured and slice your numb mind open. Death is near me; I’ll be killed if I don’t have something with me.

“Where am I heading to?”

“Somewhere far where they can’t reach you or trace your steps. You’re heading to a place where the crown’s might is still strong.”

You paused in your tracks. Wait, that can’t be right.

The rumbled noise made it’s passage close to your location, causing for your heart and his sprung with immense fear.

Both of you reached in time as he hoisted your body up on the saddle. Before whipping the reins on the horse, the young man gave you the dagger with a symbol on his shining armor. The same sigil the knight has on his armor—or so it appears. “You’ll be in safer hands if you carry something with you.”

“If we meet again, I’ll return this blade back to you.”

His eyes gazed into yours with a sad smile.

“Still, I don’t even know your name.”

He grasped your hand shortly. He smiled. “Ser Remon Blackwood.”

The pounded hooves reached a louder noise, getting near to your direction.

“Thank you, Ser Blackwood,” you said.

Remon Blackwood had his hand reached out to yours. “You share kindness like no other. Not like the people in the realm with conquering dragons. It’s an honor to meet you, my lady,” he said, giving you a one last smile.

“Dragons?” you questioned in shock.

He gave a hard slap on the horse’s front leg, as he watched his given horse galloped with you giving one last look onto the despairing knight with a somber smile.

Your eyes darted forward, leaving your ears perceiving the traced sounds of sword clashed and rang, forest filled with raged shouts.

Afar, a young knight plea for mercy, then a long-produced sounds of swords slipped through cracked armor and bones, blood shed and slimed over the forest ground.

Then nothing; only the solid ripples of the heavy hooves and a rushed wind from a great stallion’s speed deafened onto your ears.

The good knight is dead.

And the nightfall became colder.

~ present ~

The horse nearly reached to a wide-ranged road when five of the men continued to pursuit you, eyes preyed on you at the back of your head, drilling and contain in unyielding desire of violence.

“Kill the bitch!” one man shouted.

Looking over to your shoulder, on your left, you saw the man on the right drew out a bow, and sent the arrow down at your back. But you managed to duck in time. With an irritated huff, the man sent another blow with the second arrow. You ducked your head once more, gazing back, then forth, then back again.

Heart pounding in your chest; the distance between them began to shrink.

“For fuck’s sake,” the first man bellowed, wrinkles on his forehead protruded, veins on his neck were visible. “Sent the arrow flying down on that bitch’s neck, you good for nothing prick!”

The second man’s face went pale. “I’m trying, sire.”

“Try harder, you useless fucktwad!”

Clutched fingers against the writhed reins grew tired, the steadiness in your breath increased tenfold in suffocation, heart rate escalated twice as strong—feeling hot and cold all at once. Cold sweat plastered to your clutched hands as you whipped the reins harder, indicating a sign for the stallion advance farther. The pace began to slow; you whipped the reins, but no to avail.

“Please, hurry,” you begged, head leaning against the horse’s ear, holding onto your dear life as death still awaits for you.

The man reload with the third arrow. His aim targeted to your face. For a second, he went still with his aim, but immediately shot at the back of the horse’s leg. The back of the horse’s limbs tripped and flipped in mid-air, sent you flying forward with a loud clash on the forest ground that nearly shattered your back and ribcage. Ears rang and eyes shut with gritted teeth droned a sharp hiss from your lips as the men dismounted down and marched their towered over you crumpled form.

Immediately, you gathered your shattered form and fled with your hidden in plain sight. The limp on your leg made a painfully deliberate pace as you attempt to go farther while the men with cloaks and big swords, following you, wearing a yellow and crooked teeth on their lips, sniggering at your flee. And by the time you reached at the centered road, nearly to the exit, your path has been blocked by two more men, who you unaware of the extra company. One man grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you down. Drawing the dagger out, your hand brought down on his foot, then his knee, then his thigh—never minding the hysterical noise. Loosening the grip on your head, while on your knees, with a support of your foot, you spun around and stabbed a knee from another man.

You couldn’t scream or cry for help anymore. After all, you’re drowsy from ocean water, still wet and lost, in an unwonted void of labyrinth.

“What shall we do of this little cunt?” the man with a thin beard said.

“We’re going to make a use of her, bore into her with my seed and carry the filthy bastard inside her,” the second man with a short, uneven bowl cut suggested confidently. “After that, I’ll eat her flesh.”

“Stupid cunt can’t even fend for herself,” the third man, who was shorter than you said, cackling. “Let’s all take turns then. Whoever makes her scream the hardest, will get to keep her as a toy.”

One man undo his armor on the half-bottom, the clanging armor bumped in haste rhythm, as all the men who towered over your sicken stature, shed their trousers out.

Before one could pull the long cock out, with a knife in your hand, given by the young knight, you sliced his cock apart, left him wailing like an infant, blood splattered like waterfall. The men hovered you with their grubby hands, but you dodged—rolled back and took a hard swing at the man on your left, chopped his hand off. With the knife on your hand, it felt more like a short sword.

Another man has struck.

The bulky man in the middle plunged a full swing on your belly. Yelping, your arms encompassed over your flesh as the man plunged another blow with his hardened boot. His eyes gaze over the blade and punted it over to the side, then stomped over your belly and breasts in repeated motion until he grows tired. Once his foot has grown fatigue, he grabbed your thighs and spread them apart.

“No…” you said, pleading and crying. “Please don’t!”

The man dragged your panties and your tennis skirt down in barbarous motion. “Stay still and be a good wench,” he said, muddy fingers traced over your skin. You bit his fingers, drawing hot blood.

Enraged, his hands strangled you. With quick thinking, you knee slammed against his balls and kicked his face, crawling away before retrieving the dagger back, the man stomped over your left wrist, your mouth opened, but no sound came except the twinge of pain searing in your bones.

“You should’ve listen and stay still like a dog,” the man sneering, pulling your hair back again. The blurriness in your eyes worsened.

With your bones and limbs have been shattered, the hope in you began to fade. No hopes of a savior or luck stayed in hand with your despair.

His boot lunched another blow struck against your face, only to be bled through your nose, your body is broken and immovable, you couldn’t find yourself speaking, or cry for aid. Nothing good ever comes.

Except you’re alive. In fact, you were letting your guard down—pretending to be dead, abiding for the enemy to make a hasty error. The squint on your right eye left a little gap, seeing the man, kneeling down on you as he took off his trousers merrily. But as he splayed his cock out in the cold air, you managed the seize the dagger, tackled him and slashed his throat, while alive, the dagger impaled him through one of his eyes, then nose, then cheek—spare vigor imploded under a last sheer of your quick anger. The man’s face and mouth flowed with warm blood, choking and plopped down back on the surface with a thunderous thud.

From there, you stood once more and limped your way through the exit from the forest’s road in so little steps.

Only remains are the trees billowed and rustled and swayed through a gentle, cool breeze, and with you exhaling with a cautious breath you held in your chest and limbs worn out and limped as your vision drown into darkness.

~~~

Ser Criston Cole accompanied the band of men through the forest, as for they ought to repose for a short while. Sundowns became long, and the dragons in the heavens unyielded through an unforgiving climate.

The dragons don’t bear the coldness of wintry-like air. In the old days of Valyria, centuries before the time of Viserys’s reign, none of the great dragons and its people survived the Doom of Valyria, and within the errored times, from moving Essos to Westeros, dragons hatched into a total of eighteen—mighty and proud and carnivorous and bloodthirsty, though tamed through the influence of their rightful owners—heirlooms and foundation of companionship and trust between those who have the blood of a Valyria and connections through history. For instance, Vhagar is the second largest dragon compare to the other dragon riders owned. Dragons are obedient when those who dialect in Valyrian tongue, if not some. Some takes a special gift to have certain trust with a dragon, and dragon shares it’s mutual respect to the owner.

But it can’t say the same to the recent owners. The Blackwater Bay boomed nearby the Dragonstone. And during the nightly hours, the dragons were deeply asleep, though fully awakened by the quiet whiplash of what it appears to be none other than the small green light yet brightly shot downward from the vast of great, empty sky. Two nights ago, Prince Daemon tried to appease his dragon, Caraxes, the red scaly beast, but it’s clear enough to sent the prince with hesitation. Prince Daemon reached Caraxes with his hand for reassurance but Caraxes nearly snapped Prince Daemon’s hand in half. Criston Cole has neither seen Prince Daemon or Caraxes in the verge of calamity. Prince Daemon, a rogue prince who tends be as brute yet reckless and composed has been caught off guard.

The dragons have startled the men—knights and royals alike completely—peasants, too. The green starry light has fallen into the thundering waves, almost as if it was the end of Westeros. The booming wave from Blackwater Bay still lingers the aftermath effect. None slept through the night. They were returning to King’s Landing from meeting the lord from the north nearby the Blackwater Bay. But Prince Daemon, as always, fled away without considering so much of a wait for the others.

Under the gentle moonlight floating from the clouds, Ser Criston and his men galloped through the forest with their horses, hooves stomped over the twigs and dead leaves and the steeped grounds. By the time they reached into the monumental of pointed, red structures and gold and white in the city, Criston Cole couldn’t wait to repose and serve the Greens, mainly Queen Alicent, King Viserys’s second wife.

The stallion neighed loudly as it thrown its front hooves up in the air. Criston Cole’s heart leapt, somewhat appeasing his steed as the men behind him halted without a warning, causing others to nearly fall.

“What in the Seven Hells…” the man beside Criston Cole, took upon the glance at the fallen men in the midst of their exit.

Criston took the man’s torch and investigated the scenery. The fallen men all have bled from their knees to their open crotches. Hardness of their cock had flung out from a sharp blade. Criston winced at the sudden imagery flashed through his head.

“What could’ve done this…” a scrawny man said, perturbed.

“It must’ve been the work of a demon,” another man commented.

Criston moved onward, his legs carried him far and examined the view before him long before he reached to a figure, laying down. Rushing to her side, he noticed that her attire was far strangely and strikingly unique and bright compare what other women in the court wore. Turning her over, Criston settled his palm over her visage, pushing the long locks aside.

“My lady,” he muttered, still calm. While carrying the torch, he removed his glove with his teeth and touched her face. It was warm. Then he traced his hand below on the center of her chest.

Her heart in fact, still beating. He heaved with relief and called out to his men.

“This girl is alive! We must take her back to King’s Landing!” He passed the torch to the man beside him, who was following Criston without Criston noticed, and ripped his cloak off and wrapped the cloak around you and carried your unconscious body back to the men. Instructing the man to carry you while mounted on his horse and retrieved you back, placing you at the front.

“What of the Targaryens?” the man asked, somewhat scared.

Criston gave a sharp glare.

His fellow comrades, knowing Criston’s reputation, has not said a word, and followed Criston back to the realm where dragons reign.

Taglist: @liannafae

@ aemondswifffeeeyyy - all rights reserved

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 10

After the Doctor left Gallifrey, the Master and the Rani were so desperate to find him that they kidnapped and interrogated a retired CIA agent named Maris, who had been hired to find him. Maris unfortunately had no idea where he went, but before they could kill her, she was extracted from the situation.

Sabbath Dei cut out the Eighth Doctor's second heart and put it in his own chest.

In an alternate timeline, the Sixth Doctor was imprisoned in the Tower of London for a hundred years and had both of his legs cut off. By refusing to give the Dalek also imprisoned an order, he ensures that the Dalek will kill him.

William Shakespeare and Richard III swapped places in history, so anything "Shakespeare" did from 1597 onwards was actually done by Richard III.

After regenerating, the Ninth Doctor smashed every mirror in the TARDIS, swearing that he would never look at what face he was wearing after killing billions of people. He would eventually look in a mirror again after meeting Rose Tyler, and his meeting with Rose actually occurred after much more time had passed than you might think.

In the UNIT Black Archive, there is a photograph of Mike Yates and Sara Kingdom, suggesting that they interacted at some point.

The Fifth Doctor was once paralyzed from the waist down in a spaceship crash and remained that way for most of the adventure. By the end of the story, he had been healed by nanites.

The Doctor's older brother Braxiatel was Lord Burner at one point, the personal assassin of the President who burned people out of history. After being ordered to burn an old man and his granddaughter running away from Gallifrey, he let them go, and the President who gave him the order mysteriously died when one of the power relays in his office overloaded. Braxiatel led an inquiry on the matter and declared it to be nothing more than an accident.

River Song believes that the Doctor had a crush on the Rani while they were at the Academy.

At the summit of Mount Cadon on Gallifrey, one can see the whole of time itself, but people hardly ever reach it because a hallucinogenic compound in the snow stops them. While a TARDIS can materialize at the top, this is apparently "cheating" according to the Doctor. The Academy is at the foot of Mount Cadon, and it is also the site of the House of Lungbarrow.

The Doctor remembers attempting to climb Mount Cadon several times. On one such attempt, Vansell broke his leg.

When the Eighth Doctor ran into the Brigadier again after regaining his memories from another bout of amnesia, he said he felt much safer with him.

The Third Doctor's tattoo was given to him by the Time Lords to mark that he was in exile. It is basically the equivalent of a brand or a big scarlet letter.

Mustard gas can be fatal to a Time Lord.

Kamelion and K-9 can both be damaged by water.

As Time Tots, the Rani and the Doctor would play hide-and-seek. She was incredibly irritated by the Doctor's exceptional ability to find her hiding spots.

The physical appearance of a Time Lord is but a small aspect of their true forms. In reality, Time Lords are vast, multi-dimensional beings existing in the metaspace realm. These forms are completely invisible to humans.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

[kylobith]

LotR Week - Day 5 (20th Sep)

Here with me — @lotrweek

All of Rohan stood at the ready in and around Edoras, eager to behold their new king. Everything was prepared and cautiously measured. Banners, flags, food, drink. Hardly any flowers or garlands, but that did not matter to them. The Rohirrim wore their shiniest armour or most fancy dress, their blond heads plaited and adorned with the most intriguing hairstyles for whomever was foreign to Rohirric customs. And there were many who attended from outside the kingdom too.

As Éomer insisted, he would first pay tribute to the funeral mounds of his predecessors, then climb the capital while mounted on his horse, solemnly making his way through his people up to the Golden Hall and his throne, where the crown would be placed upon his brow by his sister. A simple ceremony, despite the symbolism behind it. He was a man of simple taste, like most of his kin. There was no wish for any luxurious display typical of Gondorian events, even though Aragorn’s coronation did impress him greatly.

Éowyn was waiting outside Meduseld by Faramir’s side, dressed in her most formal gown. She nervously fidgeted with the trimming of her sleeve, casting several glances towards the city. She could merely catch a tiny glimpse of the Barrowfield, so crowded were the steps to the Hall. But there was nobody to be seen by the graves. No silhouette, no cloak, nothing.

She let out yet another sigh and flattened her cuff again, realising that she messed it up by tweaking it. Her nerves were getting the best of her.

‘He is late,’ she murmured. ��I saw that he was clothed on time, so why is he late?’

A hand cupped her shoulder, alleviating some of the weight that she placed upon them.

‘My lady, do not fret so much,’ Faramir whispered to her in his honeyed voice she had learnt to cherish. ‘It is not unusual for ceremonies to run late, either in Rohan or Gondor, I am sure. Whatever is keeping him from the ceremony must be justified.’

Éowyn nibbled on her lower lip, absent-mindedly covering his hand with her own. The warmth of his skin temporarily soothed her, but she could not prevent the whirlwind of possibilities to take over her mind. What if her brother was ill? What if something crucial was missing? What if the blade of his sword had not been polished well enough for his taste? What if he was injured? What if the preparations for the ceremony now seemed too dull to him, and he preferred a Gondorian celebration? What if somebody snuck inside and attacked him?

Another look thrown towards the mounds. Another answerless inquiry.

She shook her head and tugged at her skirt.

‘I must check on him. I just want to make sure that he is alright.’

Before Faramir could seize her hand and hold her back to comfort her, she stormed towards the doors and nodded at the guards to open them. Inside the hall, there were only servants and maids arranging the last details for the coronation, bringing in benches and setting up pelts upon them, as well as on the throne itself. Banners were hung from the lofty arches, bearing the colours of the realm and Éomer’s arms. The mere sight brought some balm to her heart. She could already tell that her brother would be loved by all, as he deserved to be.

But that relied on his presence at the coronation, which was still uncertain. Where could he be? Éowyn searched the kitchens first, wondering whether her brother would feel peckish if he felt anything as nervous as she did. None of the kitchen staff had seen him.

Then, she moved her quest to the King’s Quarters, inspecting the office, the archives, but he kept eluding her. So, as her last resort, she gathered up her skirts and ran towards the royal quarters. As beads of sweat manifested on her forehead and trapped the few flyaway hairs detaching from her hairdo, she nearly sprinted down the corridor to reach Éomer’s door.

When she stood there, she softly knocked but earned no response. Frustrated and stressed from the delay, her fist slammed harder against the wood. Nothing. Yet she would not accept it. She instantly forced the door open and scanned the room. A sniffle from behind the bed caught her attention. She snapped her head towards the source of the noise and followed it.

Huddled up on the floor with his back pressed to the bedframe, Éomer was painfully pressing his knees up to his chest, despite the stiffness of his ceremonial armour. Tears stained his reddened cheek and drowned his unfocused eyes. He looked an utter mess, right when he should not.

Éowyn sank to the floor by his side and held him by the shoulders, trying to bring him to look into her eyes as they bore into him.

‘Éomer, what is happening?’ she whimpered helplessly, taken aback by the alarming sight. ‘Everybody is awaiting your arrival.’

He roughly wiped his cheek, not bothering to look at his sister — or perhaps he felt too ashamed to do it — and sniffed again.

‘I cannot do it, Wyn.’

Her brow furrowed. She could not imagine how her brother, renowned for his bravery and strength of will, would yield to the promise of the throne. Now that their family had been robbed from them, she was most likely the living person who knew him best, and she never had seen him in such a state since the passing of their parents.

She sat down beside him and nudged him with her shoulder.

‘Why is that, Mer?’

He gathered himself up, regaining enough strength to explain his anguish when words so fleeted him. Despite his state, he sensed the urge to spare her from the harshness of what tormented him, in the same way that he had sought to protect her ever since she was born. But there was not much that he could hide from her now. She had eyes, and it was about time that he stopped infantilising her. She had proven herself worthy of the greatest honours; he could no longer confine her to the image of a helpless child.

As if she had ever been that.

‘I never meant for any of this to happen,’ he sighed. ‘Théodred’s passing, the war, our uncle’s passing… I was never educated to become king. I was never taught state affairs. I am a soldier. That is all I have ever been. What legitimacy do I have as a king? I deserve none of it.’

‘Mer…’

Éowyn wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. Oh, how it pained her to see him in such a state. Her thumb traced soft lines on his arm at a soothing pace, helping him relax by the minute.

‘You are underestimating yourself,’ she murmured. ‘You have much to learn, as does every king accessing the throne, but that does not mean that you do not know anything. You were a prince once, before our uncle became king. You received the education of a prince by your old tutor. Surely Théodred spoke to you about some things he learnt. You two were close.’

‘He did, but what legitimacy does it give me?’

‘The blood of the royal house of Rohan flows through your veins as it does through mine. You have spent your youth, your whole life defending the realm. You are a war hero. How would you not be the ruler that our kingdom needs?’

Éomer scoffed and planted a brief kiss on her forearm, clinging to it.

‘We have hardly had any time to mourn Théoden and Théodred. Everything happened so fast… My heart is still aching.’

‘War brought much torment to our family and continues to do so even now that it is over. Do not keep the pain at bay. Embrace it, but acknowledge your duty as well, Éomer. Today is yours to seize as our new king. You can grieve for as long as you need to once the crown has been placed on your head.’

‘Will it not alter my capacities to carry on my responsibilities?’

She shook her head and shifted closer to him. This time, their eyes met, and for the first time since everything went dark for them both, they saw the child within themselves and the other. Two children, almost left to their own devices, alone against a hostile world that threatened to annihilate everything they knew and held dear.

For a long time, they only had each other. Théoden and Théodred, as much as they cherished them, hardly understood the extent of their loss. For years they hid their pain to keep up with their uncle and cousin and accommodate themselves into the new roles bestowed upon them. And when Gríma planted his rotten fangs under the king’s skin and poisoned him, the siblings were alone against the world again.

And they would always find each other in the end. Despite Éomer’s banishment, despite Éowyn’s narrow escape from death.

Éowyn tightened her grip around her older brother. She had too often overlooked the simplicity of a fraternal embrace, words of encouragement towards each other. They mattered now. More than ever.

‘You will be a just king, Éomer. I just know it. And I believe in you.’

‘But…’

Tears flooded his eyes anew and spilled onto his beard as he let out a gasped and trembled.

‘But you will not see any of it. You will not be around. I am about to lose you too,’ he wept.

‘Lose me?’

He shrugged and clutched her arm.

‘You are leaving for Gondor. You will settle down there, build a family and a life there. Will I even see you again?’

Éowyn’s eyes widened at his words. Never had she imagined that she had caused part of his strife. She had been elated about her engagement, which was to be announced later on during the celebrations, but she had no clue that Éomer would resent it in any way.

Her thumb wiped away his tears.

‘You are not losing me, Mer, nor will you ever. My marriage will never come in the way of our bond, I promise you that. I will visit as often as I am able, and you will know your nieces or nephews. They will know your name and your face, and their eyes will light up with joy whenever your name is mentioned. I will make sure of that. Besides, you will always be welcome in our home.’

‘Do you really mean that?’

She laughed and ran a hand through his hair to tame the knots that he had created by clutching tresses of it when nobody was looking.

‘Of course I do! You are my brother, Mer, and I do not want a life where you are estranged.’

‘Mh.’

At last, he allowed himself to smile, despite the brevity of the display. She grinned and kissed his cheek.

‘I will always be with you,’ she intoned. ‘Today especially. I am here with you, and I have no desire to turn away.’

Éomer sighed and held her against his heart.

‘Here. With me. Alright. Perhaps I can do this.’

They parted and stared at each other for a few seconds, before chuckling together. She stood up and held out her hand.

‘Come on. Your people are waiting.’

He took it without thinking and allowed her to straighten up his appearance. Before they walked out the door, he halted her with a hand on her back.

‘Before we go…’

She looked up at him expectantly, wondering what he had to say. He was never one for emotional or affectionate displays. Éomer inhaled deeply and smiled at his little sister.

‘You look beautiful today. And you will be the most gorgeous bride in history. And I love you.’

[vivalabunbun]

Simple Wishes

Summary: He never understood humans, and by extension, he never understood you. Perhaps if he had only placed more effort into studying you as he did with the search for greater knowledge, tragedy could have been avoided. But would you still allow him to hold your hand?

Word Count: 3k 

Tags: alhaitham x gn reader, deshret x gn reader, jinni!reader, past lifes, reincarnation au, angst, character death, modern au, some spoliers of genshin lore 3.2 onwards, sfw, tragedy, fluff, daughter nahida

Authors Note: This is based on the theory that alhaitham is in some way connected to king deshret, either as a reincarnation or a descendant. The reader is a jinni that understands and feels human emotions, a mirror for gods to reflect upon and cultivate more wisdom from a human prospective. Enjoy!

Upon a golden throne, imposing and all-knowing sat King Deshret. King of warriors, horticulturists, and sages. The proud and all-mighty king of the red sands. On his left, stood a Jinni, quiet and patiently waiting upon the great king and its mistress, the goddess of flowers to return from her visit to a grand friend.

The Jinn followed their mother goddess everywhere, in a trance of maddening loyalty and love. Yet here you were, far from the side of your goddess, but loyally attending to the curiosity of the great king. 

Followers of the Scarlet King might be appalled by the notion that their great king, the embodiment of wisdom, would hold questions he needed another’s answers to. However, these followers never considered the simple truth. 

King Deshret did not understand humans. After all, how can gods and humans truly understand each other on the same level when biologically the two were on two completely different plains? 

“My dear friend, how can we have dominion over creatures whom we cannot understand? Do you find that wise?” 

He remembers those words the goddess of flowers had raised him upon a peaceful afternoon. Deshret knew she was right, humans were weak compared to gods, but because they were weak they became complex. It was that unknown difference between god and humans that bred the potential for disharmony.

He supposed that was the reason your creation caused quite the commotion among the three friends and Jinn.

For upon your birth from the nilotpala lotuses at the feet of your mistress, you wept. Your fresh eyes overflowing with tears from the moment they opened, stunning the Jinn and the goddess of flowers. You, who was born with the body of an adult, wept like a human newborn who cried from the violent impact of emotions that welcomed them into the world.

Upon this revelation, your mistress knelt down to cup your face in her hands, eyes wide with astonishment and jaw slacked. 

“You… you can feel human emotions…” Her warm fingers brushed the tears off your soft cheeks. 

From that moment onwards you served a crucial role to the three lords of the alliance kingdoms, you were their mirror to the human heart. When the gods found themselves stumped upon a human concept, you were there to explain. Hate, love, grief, you told them everything the human heart held, reflecting your felt wisdom upon them.

However, of the three gods, it was King Deshret who had the least understanding of the human heart. Perhaps that was why the goddess of flowers had stationed you to the left of the king. To answer his inquiries about those weak complex creatures. 

Gazing upon the hologram manifested in front of him, Deshret watched the day-to-day bustle of the humans in his kingdom. While the king did not understand humans, he understood that they were his responsibility to look after, protect, and care for.

He watched as a laborer, skin tanned from moving heavy bricks in the unforgiving sun, rushed towards the figure of a woman with calloused hands, from weaving cloth all day, which held a basket of fruits and bread. The exhaustion disappeared from the man’s face as he greeted the woman, her face turning tender in return as she gestured to the basket.

A smile broke through the hardened face of the large man upon seeing the basket, he reached for her hand and she intertwined his fingers with hers as they walked together as one.

A crease appeared between the brows of the king, as he gestured with a flick of his wrist for you to approach closer. 

“Tell me Jinni, what troubles are plaguing my kingdom so much that a man is moved to joy over the simple sight of bread and fruit? Have the harvest this year been lacking? Have there been less gold for the common people?” He inquired. 

You turned your eyes away from the hologram and towards your lord. 

“No, they were simply happy to see each other, my lord.” 

The lazy glance Deshret cast your way told you that he still did not understand, so you continued.

“The man was overjoyed to see that the woman he loves had remembered which fruits and breads he favored, and she was happy that she made him happy.”

“That was all? That simple?” His teal eyes questioning. 

“Yes, it is the small actions that mean the most.” You offered him a reassuring smile. 

Your answer only sought to confuse him further, this was why Deshret believed he could never understand humans. How could mere mortals experience more joy from being gifted a piece of bread, than he had from having miles of silk, baskets of gold, and fertile lands placed at the feet of his grand throne? 

As the king walked along the paved paths in his palace gardens, four guards by his side in each cardinal direction, and you behind and to the left of him. His grand strides brought about an air of power and confidence as the linen flowed about his figure.

The marching of the guards and their golden armor contrasted by the jingle of bells that hung from your ankles filled the void of silence. Then along the path almost hidden by the tall flowers, sat a young boy, who had not reached the age to develop words, babbling to himself as he waved a stick in his chubby hands. Suddenly the child halted all movement, seemingly staring at nothing in particular, it was as if he had turned to stone.

Deshret paused his movement, and in sync the king’s entourage halted in their positions. He wanted to see just what would happen next with this child. It was faint at first, a shaky breath then a low whimpered followed until at last the child opened his mouth and let out a great wail. The child’s plump cheeks were wet as they began to get flushed with a hue of red, the cries his small body released straining against his lungs.

A leaf that had detached from a branch had yet to hit the ground when the figure of a place servant dashed from behind a corner. The servant dove to her knees as she brought the child into her arms, cooing and bouncing him against her chest, paying no heed to the dirt staining her white linen dress. The child had dropped his stick as he grasped tiny handfuls of his mother's dress, muffling his cries as he pressed his face into her. The servant continued to bounce him as his breathing grew calmer, it was then that the servant noticed the presence of the great king.

In a panic the servant raised to her feet, the child still tightly clutched in her arms, as she bowed deeply begging the king to forgive her for her insolence. 

“Shall I throw her into the dungeons for trespassing in the private gardens?” A guard asked. 

“There is no need,” Deshret waved her away. 

Thanking the king profusely for his mercy, the servant rushed to get out of his sight, cradling her child protectively. With a flick of his wrist, he called you to his side once more. 

“Why did the child wail so sadly?” His eyes still lingering at the corner the servant disappeared behind. 

“His small body was overwhelmed by emotions, my lord.”

“Have I frightened the child?”

“Not at all,” you shook your head. “He cried because he was overwhelmed by loneliness and the feeling of the unknown. The child cannot form words yet, thus he cannot match words to his emotions. So he cried for his mother, for he knows she will soothe the prickling feeling of frustration.” 

Deshret paused as he thought for a moment. The guards standing still at their positions around their king. 

“Was that how you felt back then?” He was referring to the moment you took your first breath. 

“Yes, my lord.” Your eyes twinkled with a smile, joy felt from your lord’s surmise. 

Dawning a cloak that hid his grand stature and identity, King Deshret strolled among the streets of his kingdom. Every once in a while he believed that it was crucial for a ruler to walk in the footsteps of his people, to examine the condition of his kingdom from beyond his golden throne. He had even requested that you remove the bells from your ankles to not draw attention as you trailed behind him.

He walked through the crowded marketplace of hollering merchants and haggling customers trying to get the best prices, you making care to not stray too far from his left. As the edge of the market came the concentration of the crowd diminished, and he felt a bit more relaxed.

He gazed curiously back into the denser crowd, observing the ever-changing expressions on the people’s faces. Suddenly, a large figure pushed the sea of people, hollering like an animal in pain. 

“Help! A doctor! Someone get me a doctor! My daughter! Please! My daughter!” 

In the scarred arms of the warrior lay the limp body of a young girl, not a day past the age of seven. As the crowd cleared out of his way, one hundred pairs of eyes focused their attention on the shouting warrior. His scarred face looked through the crowd for someone to save his child, being met with one hundred pitiful looks. 

“Anyone? Please! Call a doctor! Please save my daughter!” 

A thin man raised his hand as he maneuvered his body through the gaps in the crowd, stopping in front of the towering man. The thin man reached his hand towards the neck of the limp girl, eyes meeting the father’s as if asking for silent permission. The scarred man gave a quick nod, eyes filled with desperate hope. The doctor held two thin fingers against the cold neck of the girl, searching diligently for a pulse, for a singular proof of life. Instead, he was met with stiff, cold flesh. Removing his hand, he pressed his lips into a thin line before looking back at the scarred man’s face. 

“I am sorry, your daughter is already started her journey into Duat (the realm of the dead).”

“No… no, no, no, no, please! Please tell me it’s not too late! She can be saved no?” The desperate father harshly clasped a hand on the doctor’s shoulder, shaking the thin man. 

The doctor could only silently shake his head. The man’s eyes wide with despair then narrowed with rage, then as his facial expression relaxed a hollow void began to fill his eyes. Sinking to the sandy path arms clutching around the husk that once was a bundle of joy, the warrior who had faced countless battles, as shown by the marks all along his body, wept pitifully. Around him slowly, the crowd began to move once again, tearing their eyes away from the scene as if to give the father a semblance of privacy.

King Deshret flicked his wrist, calling you to his side. He felt no movement, confused he turned towards you, only to see your sobbing eyes still pinned on the scene in front of you. A pained expression tugged down at the corners of your lips that usually held a small smile. 

“Why do you weep, Jinni?”

“I weep for the father whose daughter, death had snatched too soon from his arms.” Your voice low like a hush. 

“Why do you weep for him?”

“Because he is in pain, a child torn away from their parent opens a wound in the heart.”

“The man is a strong warrior, he can sire another child. There is no need to weep for a child that could not survive.” 

“My lord, a child can never be replaced, she will never go back to her father’s arms. A broken pot can be remade, moldy bread can be thrown out, but a dead flower can never bloom again.” Your eyes never left the figure of the mourning father, tears continuing to darken the stones on the path. 

Deshret opened his mouth ready to inquire more but then shut it just as quickly. He sensed that inquiring more would only cause the tears to flow heavier. 

He never understood humans, and by extension, he never understood you. 

Perhaps if he had only placed more effort into studying you as he did with the search for greater knowledge, tragedy could have been avoided. 

“My lord, I beg of you to stop. This path you walk will only bring about more pain. My mistress, the goddess of flowers, has left this world. To ignore the truth while in search of knowledge forbidden will cause ruin.” You gripped onto the linen that pooled at his feet as you pleaded on your knees with the mourning king. 

“... Leave this palace, foolish Jinni.” Those were the last words he ever spoke to you. 

Yes, that was the word, foolish. That word does not describe you, no, it described him. A foolish king that did not understand his own heart. Foolish king that gambled everything and lost. His kingdom and riches shallowed by the raging sand storms, his people poisoned with madness (forbidden knowledge) by his own hands, and the once proud and all-mighty king no longer even had a physical body.

It was quiet in the temple where King Deshret hovered, he already knew what must be done to save his people, to save his people from himself as the forbidden knowledge pulsed like poison through his conscious. 

“We meet once more, my lord.” You stepped in front of him. 

He thought he would never see you again after he casted you out of the palace, your appearance stayed faithfully to how he remembered. But you were a bit more haggard, hands more collapsed, skin duller. You must have been exhausting your powers to try to mitigate the madness that plagued the humans you loved so much. Despite the fact you barely had the power to maintain your physical form, your eyes still twinkled as you called out to him. 

“I shall aid you, my lord. I will be the vessel for your sacrifice.” 

 This means you were prepared to die alongside him, he knew it, and you knew it too. Mutually understanding that a great sacrifice was required for a chance of survival for the people of the red sand. Outstretching your hands to the star-like manifestation of Deshret, you signaled that you were ready. He slowly descended into your cupped palms, as a pure light began to engulf the room and your figures.

He no longer had arms to hold you, even though he deeply wished to. As he felt his essence and yours slowly began to break apart into dust like sand, a fleeting thought passed through his mind, brought up by a scene he had witnessed many years ago with you. 

In a different time, 

a different place,

 a different world…

Could he hold your hand while you walk together as one?

... 

“....er”

“.....tham?”

“Alhaitham!” 

His teal eyes snapped open, meeting yours as you stood in the doorway of his home office. Concern was written clearly on your expression, he must have dozed off while he was translating the text that was half finished on his desk. 

“What’s wrong dear?” You moved closer, pressing your palm against his forehead feeling for signs of a fever. 

Nahida was held snuggly in your other arm as her green eyes observed her father’s face, aranara doll dangling loosely in her grip. 

“Is papa sick?” Nahida questioned, beginning to stir in your arms. 

Words just would not form from his throat as he continued to stare into your eyes, his usually stoic face was replaced with a dumbstruck expression. Which only concerned you further, he observed as your brow began to furrow more, palms shifting trying to get a better gauge of his temperature. 

“Haitham, are you unwell? If so you should rest, me and Nahida can do the grocery shopping by ourselves.”

No, he did not want you to leave his side, at that moment he never again want to be apart from you. He gently grasped your wrist in his large hand, removing it from his forehead as he stood up. 

“There is no need for such concern, I was just distracted, beloved.” He took Nahida from your arm and into his, shifting her into a secure hold. 

“Papa is healthy, now let us get the groceries before the market closes.” 

He heard you sigh, muttering something about how you worried that your husband was over-working himself. A silly concern, as if there was one thing he treasured close to the level of you and his daughter, it would be a healthy work-life balance. 

During the whole trip to the grocery store, Alhaitham was still a bit lost in thought. Movements a bit more relaxed and absent-minded than usual, Nahida still being carried in his arm as you pushed the cart. He found his eyes trailing towards the shiny wedding ring on your finger, with an emerald gem that matched the one present on his finger as well.

You had stopped in front of the display of fruits, concentrating on which fruit was the ripest and how to get the most value out of your money. Alhaitham found his hand itching to reach for yours, he did not try to suppress that desire. Allowing his hand to intertwine his long fingers with yours, wedding rings clinking together.

A look of surprise appeared on your face as you turned toward your ashen-haired lover. He was never really one for public displays of affection, so he could not fault you for your confusion, but he felt a smile tug at his lips as you accepted his actions with no further questioning. Returning your attention back to the piles of fruit waiting for your judgment.

Alhaitham felt at peace standing hand in hand with you under the fluorescent lights, as the sounds of other shoppers blended with the soft pop music from the store speakers.

A simple wish had been fulfilled. 

“Oh! This orange looks quite nice doesn’t it?”

“It is starting to mold on the underside.”

“Eh?-” 

fin~

DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.

[rawcalamity]

Ardent seas swallow whole the memories dwelling within a kingdom forlorn. Cries ever faded snake through its cracked sandstone; a harrowing mockery to the final moments those caught amidst the torrent of a fools resolve suffered. Solemnly lies its regal husk—a bone dry visage of the kingdom that once dared encroach upon the suns domain. For their hubris the ancient kingdom of the stars was lit ablaze by the ire of the Black Sun. Time ushered the winds that cast large swaths of sand to reclaim its ruins, leaving only scarce remnants that reach from the dunes to this day. The Day of the Black sun is now a dreaded memory seared within history, serving as a painful reminder of what is to come for those who wish to hold the suns flame. Tales of old proclaim the presence of a celestial envoy within the kingdom long before its fall; artifacts retrieved from the ruins reflect a time when the Starchasers were pure of heart, sheltering creatures misunderstood by man’s anxiety.

The envoy, Etherus, entrusted her sacred whispers to the Starchasers. Her divine secrets were forbidden to ever grace the ears of mortals, though regardless she violated the suns rule to aid her saviors in their pursuit of celestial inquiry. To her heartbreak, the knowledge she wielded threatened to taint their gilded hearts. Tragically so, Etherus was betrayed by those she once harbored fondness of—for with her knowledge, the Starchasers forged the celestial construct; a powerful tool that could forfeit control over the celestial cycle. Etherus' heart ached and throbbed at the terrible sight of the ancients greed. Powerless to stop them, all she could do was witness the fall of a kingdom sullied. With their fates intertwined, together Etherus and the Starchasers were plunged unto the crimson shadow of the Black Sun. Judgement reigned upon the gluttonous ancients and their gullible envoy, tearing all they had built asunder. Etherus the betrayed; her body split and shattered across time and space, leaving only her wing amidst the carnage. Decades ticked by, announcing the arrival of man who would happen upon her forlorn wing. His eyes were enthralled to the astounding beauty that radiated from the wing—leaving it to drown within the sand felt sinful. Man retrieved the wing and displayed it as a trophy of their travels. Unbeknownst to him, the innocence of this wing was challenged by the curse it harbored. The resentment of Etherus resonated strongly within each scale, hungering for escape. All who held her wing spilt sanguine ichor, welcoming the curse into their vessel. Those held captive by her curse were fated to transform into her kin under sunlight, and heed her call they must.

[undermine-the-instinct]

Okay okay….Prince Al Haitham.

A reclusive prince, content to keep to his books instead of entertaining people, but he is not shy by any means. Rumors paint him as brooding and mysterious and quietly charming and there's an allure to that. His face certainly doesn't help the rumors, with how handsome he is, so he has hordes of admirers. 

Until they speak to him face to face.

Sharp tongue and quick witted, logical and cold. It is hard to make pleasant conversation or small talk because he does not see the point in dancing around, wouldn't it be more practical just to say what you want? You're asking to court him? Marriage? He'll have to decline, no can do. No, he's not sorry. 

Dozens of people try, and fail, to garner his affections. Knights, magicians, priestesses, Queens and princesses. 

Blunt and practical to a fault, people start making up new rumors. The Prince is under a spell, his heart is held captive by a witch. No fancy words or grand gestures can move him, he is not swayed by any of the dozens of beautiful princesses, vying for his attention. He is not tempted by Queens offering their crown and kingdoms on  silver platters engraved with his name. But no, its not because he's not interested, he's cursed. Only the truest love can free him. He just wants to read his books in peace, can he have that?

What is love anyway? A feeling? A thought? An action? He's known some inkling of love throughout his life, but it still eludes him. Does it have a prerequisite, or is it instinctive? What defines love, in all its forms? Do these people love him, and that's why they all clamor over themselves just to catch a glance from him? Is that it? Aren't these people tired of all the theatrics and this 'true love' nonsense? What is this, a fairytale? 'Cursed by a witch', or, 'Only the truest love'. Do they not have any tact? You're sitting right there.

You just shake your head at his inquiries with a smile, and drink your tea, your wedding band gleaming in the sunlight.

[worldly-diversity]

@moon-hollowed / @nights-fear​ ○ 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕩 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕩𝕖𝕞𝕟𝕒𝕤 ○

         ⤷  『  “Do… you hold any memories of your life before?” Possibly a stupid question to ask, but one he can’t catch before it slips free. Brows knit together and he holds his stance despite the momentary slip up, curiosity driving his determination to hear the others answer.

He’d commit and stand by his question - feeling the answer regardless of what it was, was well worth the risk to prod.

Did he remember the labs? What came before as some of the others did He never made any mention of it, so it was unknown. Better to ask him directly, see if he’d be upfront or just how he’d react. Going silent, he shifts to lean more to the side, head lightly canting as he waits in silence.  』

As the time of the culmination of their efforts approached, Xemnas could be found more and more often atop one of the castle's spires, gazing up at the stars and at Kingdom Hearts, admiring the beauty and the potential as well as the occasional hearts that appeared and floated towards the unwavering light of the moon to join in its radiance.

Rarely did it happen that one of the others would choose to join him in such moments, more likely for it to be Xigbar unless someone was in need of adapted orders and guidance. Though really, Xemnas rather thought they ought to be capable enough not to require his holding their hands through whatever step of the process they were struggling to complete.

Instead Saix had joined him, something he realised from the steps echoing into the silence. Saix always had a rather notable manner of moving through a space, pointed and without waste, yet not in any sort of rush or hurry either. He was measured like most everything the Luna Diviner took upon himself, unless he gave himself over to the rage of his powers, during which he performed marvellously well and indeed decimated most anything that stood in his path. One of the most promising of his number.

Slowly did he turn away from Kingdom Hearts in silent inquiry. Neither of them were the type to particularly beat around the bush after all, and if Saix had a concern or a question, Xemnas trusted him to need no coaxing to bring it up.

Indeed, after an uncharacteristic moment's hesitation, the question was presented and a furrowed brow met the Diviner as Xemnas considered his words with the same care and attention he dedicated to anything.

Before. Such an interesting concept. He is well aware that the others have varying degrees of memory from Before, but Xemnas' has always been fragmented, muddy, as if conflicting information had presented itself and had in turn fractured beyond repair. Oft the attempt to delve deeper beyond the apparent and piece together what fragments he could identify engendered more questions than answers and indeed left him more confused than when he started. Perhaps that was why he had gradually stopped searching for the answer, even as said answer invisibly guided some of his actions.

Castle Oblivion had been the very result of one such a drive. He knew he was searching, and had a strong sense of what for, yet the reasons eluded him still.

"I do not." Came the reply at last as golden hues once more focussed on the heart-shaped moon above. It is the truth, or at least a truth. He has very little desire to attempt to explain to the Luna Diviner the complexities of his drive and his memories and the reasons he harbours for doing anything at all, for all are interconnected and impossible to consider individually.

"Why do you ask?" Once more he turned toward Saix, taking in the other's form and expression more critically than before, as though he had merely been seeing through him the first time he'd turned. His gaze was sharper now, focussed, and he wondered.

.

[idkyetxoxo]

Twelve | Allure | The Last Kingdom

"You could bleed me dry and I'd still fall at your feet," 

"Let me assure you, pain comes in many forms and I happen to be quite adept at exploring them all,"

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───☆⋅☾⋅☆───

Three months had passed since Ragnar's journey to Valhalla. It had been three months since I bared my heart in a whirlwind of emotions to Sihtric, leaving a trail of confusion in its wake.

Now residing within the confines of Cookham, Uhtred's estate, I found myself seated outside, straddling a weathered bench, my focus consumed by the rhythmic motion of sharpening my daggers. A familiar voice disrupted my solitary task.

"Every time I stumble upon you, it seems those blades are being sharpened," Aldhelm observed, his gaze tracing the glinting steel in my hands. I offered a wry smile in response. "I prefer those on the receiving end of these blades to keenly feel the bite of these edges," I replied, punctuating my words with a casual shrug.

"Come to retrieve Aethelflaed?" I inquired, my eyes flickering in the direction from which Uhtred and Aethelflaed emerged. With a nod, Aldhelm confirmed my assumption, and we awaited their departure. Once alone, Uhtred beckoned me to his side, and we settled before a crackling fire.

"Still no news?" I ventured, taking my place opposite him. Uhtred shook his head, and I emitted a thoughtful hum, prodding at the flames with a stick. His reproachful glance met my own mischief-laden eyes. "What? I am bored," I retorted, and a chuckle escaped Uhtred's lips.

"We haven't had any action in months," I remarked, pointing out the unsettling calm that enveloped our surroundings. Uhtred, dismissed my concerns "That's a good thing, little devil." Yet, both of us understood the ephemeral nature of such peace, especially in the company of Uhtred.

"Are you awaiting Sihtric's return to properly confess?" Uhtred's inquiry pierced through the haze of my thoughts, prompting a swift turn of my head in his direction. "Don't feign ignorance of our knowledge regarding your situation" he continued, and I emitted a disapproving tut.

"He just had to be a rat," I grumbled, and Uhtred's laughter reverberated in the space between us. "We both know the feelings are mutual," he declared, and I shook my head.

"Since then, you've not lay with another man," Uhtred remarked, and a grimace contorted my features as he ventured into uncomfortable territory. "Nor has he bedded anyone, not even a glance toward the whorehouses," Uhtred pointed out, igniting a flicker of satisfaction within me, concealed beneath a facade of nonchalance.

"He hasn't humped a woman in three months?" I queried, feigning indifference, while Uhtred nodded, puzzled by my astonishment. "He is a man," I declared matter-of-factly, "you men hump like it's a lifeline," I added with a derisive laugh, to which Uhtred scoffed.

"No we do not" he protested, prompting me to rise with a playful spring, my foot connecting with the dying embers of the fire. "Of course," I smirked, turning to depart, only to feel a sudden impact against my back. Whirling around, I caught sight of a fallen stick, Uhtred's laughter ringing in the air.

"Child," I called out as he laughed.

──☆⋅☾⋅☆──

I reclined fully in the soft grass, idly flipping my dagger into the air and deftly catching it. The resonant voices of men grew louder, signalling their return, and a smirk danced across my lips as familiarity enveloped me.

With a push from the ground, I sauntered toward the gathering of the four men, where Finan briefed Uhtred on their recent discoveries. My hand met the back of Finan's head, followed by a tousling of Osferth's hair, before settling into a comfortable spot amongst them. 

Yet, it was his gaze that ensnared me, prompting a fleeting exchange of smiles before my focus returned to the discussion at hand.

"Uhtred, the time to strike is now, while Bebbanburg remains vulnerable," I asserted, my voice slicing through the air with conviction. Finan's pragmatic assessment of the cost echoed in response, yet Uhtred, ever the risk-taker, remained undeterred.

"We shall journey to Winchester to rally an army," Uhtred declared, rising from his seat as Finan trailed in his wake, leaving Osferth, Sihtric, and me.

"So," I began, casting a meaningful glance between Osferth and Sihtric, only to find Osferth abruptly standing up claiming he had a task to do.

"So," Sihtric echoed, reclining comfortably as I leaned in, resting my elbows upon the worn wooden table. His gaze traced a tantalizing path from my eyes to my lips and down to my chest, a subtle satisfaction tugging at the edges of his demeanour.

I watched with a sense of gratification as his jaw clenched. Straightening in his seat, he broke the silence with a declaration "I have something for you" producing a small dagger from behind his back and placing it before me. My gasp of awe echoed in the air as I beheld its exquisite craftsmanship.

Its slender blade gleamed with a polished steel finish, etched delicately with intricate patterns that caught the light like dancing shadows. Its handle was wrapped in supple leather and the hilt was adorned with ornate engravings, all crafted with meticulous detail.

"It's so pretty" I breathed, my eyes alight with admiration, prompting a wide grin to grace Sihtric's lips as he savoured the gleam in my eyes.

"I knew you would like it," he declared, his voice saturated with unwavering confidence, a faint hint of satisfaction inflecting his tone. My lips curled into a half-smile at his assertion.

"Always with the massive ego," I muttered under my breath, a teasing glint dancing in my eyes. With a sly grin, he mirrored my movements, leaning forward in a mimicry of my actions.

"You're one to talk," he countered, his words punctuated by a tilt of his head and a scrunching of his features. I met his challenge head-on, shrugging off his accusation with a dismissive gesture.

"I don't harbour such delusions," I retorted, my tone laced with challenge, only to be met with his knowing gaze. "We both know that's a lie," he fired back.

Undeterred, I rose from my seat, the dagger held aloft in a playful display of potential mischief. "You've just handed me a weapon, I might be compelled to use it," I teased.

"You could bleed me dry and I'd still fall at your feet," he confessed, his words delivered with a disarming calmness that sent a shiver down my spine. His casual declaration hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

"Let me assure you, pain comes in many forms and I happen to be quite adept at exploring them all," I whispered, savouring the way his eyes widened in response, a flicker of satisfaction dancing in their depths. With a final flourish, I spun the dagger in a graceful arc.

With a lingering glance, I turned away, the echo of our exchange lingering in the air.

──☆⋅☾⋅☆──

"I say we just turn up and ram the gate" Osferth suggested with a hint of enthusiasm, prompting a soft chuckle to escape my lips. "Or we can just ask nicely to be let in. Next idea?" Finan retorted with a wry grin. Osferth's gaze briefly darted towards a group of passing nuns, their giggles echoing through the air, and I couldn't help but sigh.

"We are not dressing up as nuns" Finan deadpanned. Osferth, ever quick to respond, interjected "I wasn't gonna say that."

"Ah but you were, baby monk" Finan shot back, a playful glint in his eyes. "No I wasn't" Osferth protested, "You were" Finan argued and then a momentary silence fell over us.

"You could dress up as a nun" Sihtric suggested with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, drawing an incredulous glare from me. "What about me screams 'nun'?" I quipped, earning a smirk from Sihtric. "Certainly isn't those unholy thoughts," Finan remarked, earning a slap on his arm from me as he groaned theatrically, rubbing the spot where my hand had landed.

"Ladders," Osferth finally proposed, his tone dripping with a touch of whimsy, drawing an exasperated sigh from me.

Our conversation was abruptly interrupted by Uhtred "King Edward refuses to lend his aid." I bristled, my fingers instinctively finding the hilt of my newly acquired dagger. "I could try to reason with him," I offered but Uhtred swiftly interjected, his tone firm. "No, you will not, little devil," he countered, eliciting a pout from me in response.

As we deliberated the prospect of seizing Bebbanburg without external assistance, Uhtred reassured us that brute force wasn't necessary, all we needed to do was eliminate Aelfric, and the gates would open.

Our discussion was interrupted once more, this time by Hild's gratitude "Thank you Lord Uhtred for offering your men to clear the stables." The men groaned in unison as I stifled a laugh, straightening up as Hild turned her attention to me.

"I am not a man," I asserted with a hint of amusement, earning a frown from Hild.

"You can oversee their work, ensure they're... diligent," she reasoned, her tone beseeching cooperation. Rolling my eyes, I relented, "You're lucky I like you, Abbess," before trailing after the men and into the stables, with no intention of lifting a finger but every intention of making their task just a little bit more challenging.

──☆⋅☾⋅☆──

As Finan, Osferth, and Sihtric diligently toiled away, I lounged in the corner, making it abundantly clear that I had no intentions of lending a hand. With calculated nonchalance, I tossed my dagger at the door, each throw aimed at different imperfections in the wood.

Once more, I flicked the dagger, squinting with one eye for optimal precision. The door swung open abruptly, the intruder frozen in place, wide-eyed with fear as my weapon narrowly missed their gaze, clattering to the ground with a sharp echo.

Uhtred retrieved the dagger with a muttered expletive, casting me a glare as he returned it to my outstretched hand. Yet, his warning lingered in the air, "Don't make me confiscate your toys," he cautioned.

"You wouldn't dare," I retorted with a defiant grin, my laughter dancing on the edges of the conversation.

Uhtred proceeded to outline his strategy for intercepting the monks en route to Bebbanburg, recounting his recent conversation with Aethelflaed.

It became apparent that we required an additional horse for the priest who would accompany us. Uhtred, in his characteristically brash manner, entrusted Sihtric with the task, remarking that he could resort to unconventional methods, even hinting at the possibility of seducing the stableman's wife if necessary. 

I couldn't help but notice the subtle flicker in Sihtric's gaze as Uhtred uttered the words, his eyes briefly meeting mine before he turned to fulfil his assigned task.

All I could manage was a half-hearted grin and a playful wink as he strode away to tend to the errand. 

It was a frustrating realization, my own inner turmoil mirrored in the uncertainty of my feelings for him. I knew that I needed to confront these emotions sooner rather than later. We couldn't continue in this way. 

Eventually, Sihtric would tire of the uncertainty, realizing that it wasn't worth the trouble, that I wasn't worth the trouble

Suppressing a chuckle, I observed the men's rather unconventional method of kidnapping young Uhtred, their actions betraying a peculiar mix of seriousness and absurdity as they dragged him into the dense woods.

"Hey there, little man," I greeted him with a wry smile, noticing the fiery glare he shot at our group. "Well, you've certainly grown since the last time we met. It's been a while," I remarked, but he remained obstinately silent. "I have no interest in whatever schemes you have planned," he declared firmly.

The exchange between him and Uhtred continued for a while, with Uhtred making it abundantly clear that whether the lad liked it or not, they would be departing together for Coccham. From there, our journey would take us north to reclaim Bebbanburg.

"I don't even know what that is," young Uhtred confessed, prompting me to rub my temples in frustration. Sihtric then brought the horse over, and this time, I couldn't help but chuckle as Uhtred realized the predicament they faced, the horse was notably small.

"You can have mine. I'll share with one of them," I offered, to which he simply nodded and mounted my horse. "Thank you, my dear sweet aunt, you're the best," I muttered sarcastically, and he glanced down at me.

"I don't thank heathens," he retorted sharply, causing me to flinch inwardly. The innocent, playful boy who used to beg for piggyback rides seemed a distant memory now. "A little harsh, young man," I grumbled, though he didn't even spare me a glance. Of course, he could get away with such remarks, being my nephew and all.

"Alright, who's going to have the honour of sharing a horse with me?" I clapped, prompting the men to exchange glances. Finan seemed ready to speak up, but Sihtric intervened, claiming he had the most well-behaved horse.

Without objection I mounted the horse, settling comfortably in the front. As I adjusted myself, ensuring comfort for the journey ahead, I felt Sihtric's presence draw nearer, his body pressing against mine as he reached around to take hold of the reins.

His arms encircled my waist. I could sense the faintest hint of amusement in his demeanour. Despite not turning back to look, I could practically feel the curve of his lips.

Upon our return to Coccham, the men prepared the boat while I gathered the necessary supplies. On my way back, I noticed Beocca had decided to join us. It was evident his motivation wasn't the prospect of battle, but rather concern over the abduction of my nephew.

As we settled in, I made no attempt at rowing, leaving the task to the men as we set sail towards Bebbanburg.

───☆⋅☾⋅☆───

ok so obviously more time passes between seasons 3 and 4 but for the sake of this story only three months ✌🏼

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

King thor (mcu thor) is stressed from his duty as king and avenger so his queen of midguard, reader (not actually a queen of midguard, but she is human who used to work as shield nurse and has a healing power) decided to release his anger and stress on her! Hard core fuck, suck nipple, blowjob, doggy style, sucking pussy, daddy, other positions style

How Kings Release

Thor paces your shared bedroom back and forth with long agitated strides. The pressure of becoming king has more than shredded any semblance of patience he possessed and often sent him to the realm of pure fucking insanity. He honestly didn't know how much more he could take before he snapped.

Pressures of keeping his kingdom safe weighed heavily on Thor, and he's not afraid to admit that he worries for his people. Unfortunately his concern usually translates to internal rage and he needs a fuckin stress reliever. He'll just never speak that little fact out loud.

You're unaware of Thors surly reflective state and unluckily take this moment to enter the room. Hes not facing you but his perturbed treading comes to a halt. Since youre only there to change your royal robes, you only glance at Thor, giving a warm loving smile to his backside before heading to your huge walk in closet. You undress as you speak to your unknowingly fuming husband.

"My king, you're needed in the prison chambers. Something about Loki needing a word with you."

You're clothes hit the floor, pooling around your ankles when you hear a thunderous pound on the wall behind you. The noise obviously startles you, makes you jump as you turn around bewildered. Your round heavy tits swing a bit as you look at him. He's facing you now, taking you in unabashedly.

Thor wordlessly gazes at your naked frame intensely. His silent brooding demeanor is starting to make you anxious. What the hell was goin on?

"Did something happen, Thor? Are you al-,"

Your inquiry clips short as he stalks towards you, still refusing to say a single word. You kinda wanna make a run for it but the way he's looking at you seems to dare you to take a single step and your not sure you want to take that chance. Your feet are rooted to the spot as he approaches, looking you up and down like a piece of damn meat. He hums a short sound of appreciation of everything he can see and fuckin KNOWS your body has to offer. His tongue flicks out to lick over his bottom lip as he continues to stare at your curvy naked body. Shit, you smell so God damn good to him.

"Thor-"

Your husband's large warm hand wraps firmly around your throat and you shut the fuck up promptly. It's about now that you're finally aware of your warrior's very tense disposition. He steers you towards the bed by your neck, makin you walk backwards till the back of your legs hit the soft midnight blue plush blankets. He brings his face close to yours, your noses almost touch, finally addressing you with a tone that was deadly low.

"Call me that again and you'll fuckin regret it."

Thor is seething.. And you have no idea why. Your heart is pounding at his behavior and when his hand clutching you becomes a bit more malleable on your neck, you might have an inkling of what's comin next. Even though your starting to get wet at his treatment, you hope to hell you're not limping afterwards for the entire damn kingdom to see this time.

"If I hear you call me anything besides who the fuck I am to you, I'll wreck that pussy way more than I intend to. A warning for you My Queen: this is not the time for your usual bratty, disobedient behavior. "

Thor pushes you to the bed, eagle-eyes focused on the way tits and thighs jiggle as you hit the bed with a soft plop. He kneels, pushing your legs open roughly as he examines your glistening folds. His fingers spread your pussy lips, relishing in the way the pink of you throbs for him. It makes his fat lengthy dick perk up even more in anticipation.

His cock lays heavy behind his clothing, so damn rigid and engorged. Thor's dick drips small drops of precum and it makes his underwear feel warm and sticky. Not even aware of when his dick got hard, all he can contemplate is taking his emotions out on your poor unsuspecting body.

"Now, I'm gonna suck and lick my pretty little pussy till you cum. Afterwards, I'm gonna fuck you however I want until my balls are drained. Understand?"

Thor doesn't bother to wait for answer as he pins back both of your thighs in each of his hands and dives in. Spearing your wet pussy with his stiff tongue, the king basks in your taste as his crown tips off of lengthy blonde flowing waves. He's moaning and groaning at the flavor of you bursting inside his mouth. Continuously stabbing at your pussy, Thor grips your thighs harder and pulls you closer to his mouth.

You have to grip the bed with tight balled fist as he attacks your little puss. Your breath puffs out in desperate little pants as he gives instant blindingly good pleasure. Your h/c hair fans out on the bed like a halo surrounding you while thrash wildly. You know better than to push him away so you do nothing but endure the intense sensations invading your overwhelmed fluttering pussy.

"Ooooohmyking! My King! Pleeeease! Ohgodohgodohgod! I c-ca-.. I can't!"

You hope your fuming husband takes pity on you and slows down but your wanton cries have the opposite affect. He sets your right leg on his shoulder and brings a hand down to thumb at your throbbing clit, pressing firm quick circles that have you gasping for air. You yank at you comforter but it does nothing to help with the feeling of him fuckin his tongue into you as hard and fast as he can. White sparks flash behind your tightly closed eyes as he forces you to take what he gives you.

Thors mouth, beard and chin are soaked. The smell of you, your passionate shrieks, and sight of your shuddering body makes his dick wanna spurt. He presses himself against the bed as he eats you like he'll never see you again. He can tell you're getting close, needs you to be as wet as possible cause when he gets inside you, he's gone beat ya pussy up till his hearts content.

"Ohfuuuuuck! Ah, ah aaahgod! Love you! I love you Daddy! Loveyou, loveyousofuh-uckinmuch!"

He knows damn near the entire castle can hear your wails bounce of your walls of your room and through the open window. Should let up some cause you'd be embarrassed as hell if you knew but he couldn't muster to find a single ounce of a fuck to give as he removes his tongue and give a vigorously resistant suck on your clit.

"St-st-o-op! Ple-! St- AH! Thoooor!! Pleeeease!"

Thor thinks the arch that snaps your back is so fuckin pretty as you cum fast and hard against his mouth. It's a damn miracle the bedspread doesn't rip between your fingers from your deranged tugging as you blast his mouth and chin with a heavy dose of your love. With eyes still shut, you beg for it to end but its a laughable concept to your mean ass man as he doubles down on his sucking.

Your now wordless screams make his ears ring and dick attempt to bust free. He pulls off with a POP! only to latch back, nursing at your sensitive little button ferociously.

The fervid sensation makes you kick at him and you actually manage to free your self. You think you'll take your chances of escape as you twist onto your belly and make a very sorry attempt at scrambling over the bed. Your knees are too shaky and your legs wobble, your poor pussy still pounding with overstimulation.

Thor can't believe his fucking eyes, not only had he peeped you calling him by his first fuckin name, here you were trying to make the weakest escape attempt he had ever witnessed. It actually made him laugh out loud, first in disbelief and then malevolence. Aight if that's the way you were gone play, he'd show you wassup. BET.

Your tyrant of a husband hastily pulls his stiff long dick out from under his kingly attire, pumping it quickly from tip to base as he snatches you back by your ankle. You're sobbing and flailing but Thor hardly gives you a chance to fight back. He briefly lets go of his cock to seize your hips upwards and grab a handful of your hair. Your impaled on his length before you can even think to beg for his forgiveness.

"FUUH-UUCK!" Your king's boisterous roar of satisfaction definitely beats your stuttering howl.

Your breath is knocked from your lungs as he digs into you more than halfway. He has to pause and revel in your lava hot snug little pussy already trying to milk the fuck outta him. You're uncontrollably clenching around his girth and its sending him to fucking Valhalla.

His next thrust takes him to the hilt as you wheeze for air. Thor utilizes his grip in your hair to pull you back to meet his powerful thrusts. The booming slaps of his pelvis crashing against your juicy jiggling ass cheeks as proof of his earlier promise to wreck you if disobeyed. You suck air into your lungs desperately, finally able to pitifully wail at his reckless treatment of your body.

You wanna beg him to slow down, plead with Thor to stop; at least just a small break from the havoc he was wreaking between your thighs. But you can't, don't even realize that your tongues hangs from between your lips uselessly as he despicablely fucks you without a hint of concern.

"Shoulda- dammit sooo tight! Fuuuck! Sh-shit, shoulda listened to me y/n." He leans down, pulling you back further to speak at your ear.

"You never listen. Actually thought I'd l-let your bad ass get away? Think Daddy's gonna h-have to stop taking it so e-easy on you."

He slaps each of your ass cheeks, admiring the way your radiant brown skin ripples from the impact before both hands wrap around your slender neck. He's bucking and riding you hard as tears stream down your face from the immense pressure in your gut. Your nothing more than a doll for him at this moment and the sentiment makes him squeeze a bit at your neck which in turn has your pussy attempting to strangle his cock.

Dammit, Thor wants to fuck you longer but with the week he's had he should be greatful he ain't explode inside your magic pussy on the first stroke. His balls draw up tight against his body and your tough ass husband actually whimpers as his cock starts to spasm. He's quick to rip his dick from your abused little puss, turn you to face him and push you to your knees.

Your dazed, beyond confused, as you rapidly try to blink tears from lashes and clear your blurry vision. Your most definitely not expecting or prepared for Thor to bully his spasming wood between your lips. He stares down at you with a dilated piercing gaze and lets loose massive torrents of cum as he shouts your name exuberantly.

"..aaaaah FUCK! Y/n, y/n! Oh f-fu- Gods help me! Sofuckingooood y/n! Haaah.."

You never had a fucking chance in hell! His cum gags you as you cough harshly around his dick. Try as you might to pull back from the onslaught, he easily holds you in place while he humps his dick in your mouth ruthlessly. The muscles in his torso flex erratically, and he shouts estatically as he busts a fierce ass nut.

By the 4th spurt of Thor's copious cum, he's slides in till your nose presses against his short dark blonde public hair. 'He smells like the flower soap on the the 4th floor' your mind supplys foggily as he spurts again, this one going straight down your throat.

Thankfully his streams lose volume by the 6th gush into your warm cavern but it's almost impossible to breathe as his cock chokes you. Trickles of his thick white liquid leaks from the corner of your mouth as he finishes releasing into your over stuffed jaws.

His saltiness assaults your senses and your chest burns with the need to take a real breath. Your arms now hang limply at your sides, eyes half closed as you helplessly wait for your king to release you.

Your freshly done make up runs from your watery eyes down your cheeks, smearing with the cum that streams down your chin. Splashes of Thor's warm milk decorates your chocolate skin in blotches and the sight makes his slowly softening dick twitch with interest. He takes a mental picture before pulling his dick out of throat slowly and relinquishing his grip.

You fall back against the bed flaccidly with a pathetic hum as his eyes follow the rivers of his release now dripping down your perky tits and tummy to your trembling thighs. You stare at the wall unfocused as your chest heaves. You can't think.. Can't move.. You can't speak.. Just how he likes it after a session.

"Fuuuuck.. I needed that, Woman."

He ducks down to retrieve his crown, tucking his dick back into his clothes as he smirks at your pliable, relaxed state. Thor wipes at the sweat on his face with his sleeves as he reluctantly turns and heads for the door, leaving you on the bedroom floor still trying to catch your breath. He'll be back to run you a hot bath and hopefully slide in some round 2. For now, time to deal with Loki..

[your-local-simp-writers]

༺☆༻ Introduction ༺☆༻

Hello! 

We’re the dynamic duo behind “𝕐our 𝕃ocal 𝕊imp 𝕎riters,” just a couple of friends who love to get lost in the world of stories and games. We’re here to share our passion for writing and all the geeky stuff we can’t get enough of.

♡ About Us ♡

I’m 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 and I’m all about gaming and art. You’ll often find me with a controller in one hand and a comic book in the other. My better half, the yin to my yang. She’s the partner in crime, the sweet melody to my wild riffs, and the one who brings a touch of grace to our shared tales of adventure and heart, 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒! She is the other half of this storytelling team. We both love creating stories that’ll make you feel like you’re right there with the characters.

♡ Our Writing ♡

We write what we love, and we love what we write. Our stories are inspired by our current fascinations—be it a game, a movie, or a manga. If it’s interesting and fascinating to us, it’s fair game for our writing.

Most of our stories are “x female reader” because that’s where we feel most at home. Occasionally, we’ll write “x gender-neutral reader” pieces for a bit of variety. However, we generally steer clear of “x male reader” or “OC x canon” stories. We want to create a space where female readers can see themselves in the worlds we love so much.

❤︎ 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 '𝓈 Interests: 

Gaming: I’m a huge fan of Kingdom Hearts, Batman Arkham games, Mortal Combat, Final Fantasy, Resident Evil, Doom 3, Phasmophobia, Five Nights At Freddy’s, Twisted Wonderland, Call of Duty, Halo 3 and 4, Sonic and Transformers. If it’s a game or relating to horror, chances are I love it.

Comics: Batman is my passion. I collect anything related to the Dark Knight, and my collection is my pride and joy.

Anime/Manga: I'm into One Piece, Princess TuTu, JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Jujutsu Kaisen, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Kingdom Hearts, Sgt. Frog, Free!, HellSing, and a bunch more. I have also seen MHA, Fairy Tail, Dragon Ball, Soul Eater, Naruto, Castlevania, Diabolik Lovers and more.

Disney & Tim Burton: I’m a Disney kid at heart. My top 5 Disney movies are Treasure Planet, Cinderella 3, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, and The Princess and the Frog. And I’m all about Halloween and everything Tim Burton.

Music: I love RnB and Y2K music so much! However, you can usually find me listening to cutesy, cheesy love songs.

❤︎ 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒’𝓈 Interests: 

Gaming: I’m definitely not the biggest gamer around, but I do love to play Roblox, Fortnite, and Minecraft! Sometimes I’ll also dabble in some fall guys, FNAF or Poppy’s Playtime. On Roblox, I love to play pretty much anything but pvp games due to the fact that I’m not the best at them. Horror games are probably my favorite, even though I’m a chicken!

Anime/Manga: My favorites are definitely Fairy Tail, Jojo’s bizarre adventure, Naruto, and Demon slayer. I’ve also watched MHA, Danganronpa, Yona of the Dawn, Food wars, High Rise Invasion, Angels of death, and more!

Disney and Tim Burton: I’m definitely a Disney girl! I love all Disney Princess movies, both animated and live action. My top three not in any particular order would have to be Tangled, The Little Mermaid, and Princess and the Frog. For Tim Burton, my favorites are the classics, The nightmare before Christmas and Corpse bride. 

Books: I’m also a huge book girly! My favorite genre has to be fantasy/sci-fi. My favorite book series is The Lunar Chronicles, I definitely recommend it!

♡ Join the Fun ♡

This is an invitation to you, dear reader, to become a part of our narrative. Engage with us, inspire us, and let us inspire you.

So, come on in, get comfy, and let's share the joy of stories. The next chapter is always the best one, and it starts right here, with you and us. Requests are always welcome in the ask box! and even inquiries, should you have any!

With all the warmth in our hearts,

𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 & 𝒞𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒

P.S: 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 drew the image, just so most people can get a idea of what we look like♡ AND THE G.M FIARY BOOK IS FOR FUN, for the pure shits and giggles TRUST