#shes carrying on the family tradition

[xemily-similex]

my mom has decided to write fanfics, I don’t know whether to be more proud or disturbed

[pilkypills]

I was thinking about what Bofur and Bombur's mother might be like. She's the younger sister of Bifur's father.

I think she's a conscientious and considerate dam that's used to making more out of less and powering through bad circumstances with a smile. Bofur and Bombur's father died while they were still children, leaving her to raise them as a single mother (with Bifur's help, of course). She's worked for most of her life as a cook in a miner's canteen. Her late husband taught her to play the flute, a skill she's passed on to Bofur.

She's kind of thin for a dwarf, a leftover effect of being a sickly child. When Bofur and Bombur were born she was secretly terrified they wouldn't be healthy and, even though they are, she still worries from time to time. She is mostly retired by the time of the Quest, spending most of her time helping Bombur's wife look after her children.

The pet name she uses for Bofur is constructed from the Dwarrow Scholar's technique for creating diminutives, though I can't guarantee I've done it correctly. It means "tiny waterfall", referring to his chatterbox tendencies :)

Bombur's nickname (tiny sparkle) is similar, made and provided by the Dwarrow Scholar in this post here.

[blaiddraws]

today i bring you family sleepy cuddles. tomorrow? who knows....

[s0fter-sin]

listen dean’s favourite food being the stereotypical homemade by happy house wife with happy family, peak of domesticity and all things comfort pie is something that can be so personal actually

imagine him as a child living out of motel rooms, these caricatures of home, watching reruns of old tv shows; blurry black and white images showing a hard working father coming home to his happy children and delighted wife. a wife who is so protected and at peace, she does nothing more with her day than bake a pie for her family, all of them gathering around a table for a slice

imagine dean opening his plastic packaged convenience store pie slice and taking a bite at the same time as them and convincing himself it tastes the same

[the-dalseum-duet]

satis writing an ACTUALLY CANON SCENE??

OH GOD!! what has gotten into her?? (hint: it starts with an “A” and ends with a “merican politics”)

anyway. i’ve wanted to write this scene for a while but finding the right words to do it is very difficult. it’s kind of awkward but. y’know what. it’s okay it gets the idea out there. it’s ok for art to be messy and not perfect. a byproduct of the lore overhaul, please enjoy a glimpse into Dalseum’s history and a tiny exploration into Noeul’s thought process (with even more in the tags bc I love talking abt him. fascinating fascinating man)

“THIS is your man?” tag @svwhssftr (directed at kai) (sorry to flashbang you w political commentary after talking abt sex for like a day straight)

In the blink of an eye, it all went dark. The flashing cameras, the smug glances sharper than knives the Council shot into the crowd, the glitter of the afternoon sun on The Palace’s floors— all of it. It was reduced to nothing but cold, damp darkness. 

The safety of the quiet was unnerving. Charlie’s mind clawed at the imaginary walls to escape into the dazzling ocean of the paparazzi, but her body remained idle. Her body instinctively leaned in closer to Noeul. 

He lit a match from inside his coat’s pocket—illuminating what may have been a teardrop on his cheek— and flicked it into some long and hollow metal contraption. It caught the insides and exploded into a river of crackling blue flames, revealing a mossy labyrinth of walls and chambers. It was all so empty, except for the smell of burning oil.

“There’s a lot of history in here,” Noeul whispered, removing his coat to crouch beside the aqueduct of stagnant oil. 

Charlie didn’t say a word. Her eyes were transfixed on the blurry mass of granite awaiting her. 

“We were Korean territory until the Silla dynasty. Most of the peninsula was unified under their rule, so Dalseum was naturally the next step. The warriors from the mainland tried to overtake us, but we slaughtered them. They underestimated us.”

“The hell does that have to do with this?” Charlie choked. 

“Dalseum was under the rule of its only empress in history. Her army commanded such respect that the Korean warriors fled after the first battle, and then Dalseum was forgotten to time. After the unification, they had more pressing issues than a small island with few resources.”

Charlie looked back at him, her infuriated eyes glinting in the firelight. 

“But the Dalseum government couldn’t have predicted their cowardice. They constructed a hideout underground in case of an emergency. The layout makes no sense because it’s meant to be a maze. If the officials themselves could barely figure it out, then their enemies had no chance.”

“But why are we here?” 

“You know how the Japanese imperialists occupied Korea during World War II?”

“Uh-huh.”

“A small Imperialist faction conquered Dalseum shortly before the war ended. Our bohemian government was unprepared for violent military conflict, so it crumbled. They turned our history into prison cells. The Japanese locked away everyone who dared to resist them—members of my own family, especially. These walls have seen torture you can’t even imagine.”

“You’re saying this is my prison now?”

“Welcome home, doll.” Noeul almost smiled. The fire, despite being feet away, burned Charlie’s face. 

“After the war ended, the Japanese soldiers returned home. They behaved like monsters, but they were humans with families and children. What was left of the original local government was in shambles, and my great-great-grandfather took advantage of the ruins. These halls haven’t been used as a prison ever since. We haven’t needed to use them.”

“I don’t understand, then. Why are you keeping me here?” 

“Because otherwise you’d be dead, Charlie.” Noeul shakily breathed. “If some force threatens Dalseum, it’s our right to kill it in the name of self-defense. My ancestors single-handedly poisoned dozens of the Japanese invaders. Dalseum wouldn’t exist without us. I have every right to exert my power on someone like you. I’m only showing you mercy because I love you.”

“But you love your tradition built upon oppression more.”

“Oppression?” Noeul laughed. “My family freed our people.”

“But they destroyed the old government— the one that persisted for centuries.”

“The values on which Dalseum was built were no longer effective. The feeble monarchy was nothing but show businesses, anyway. If we want to stay afloat, we can’t risk losing what we have to the uninformed decisions of an outsider. We nearly lost everything to a fascist regime— I can’t let history repeat itself.”

You’re no better than them if you imprison those who disagree with you, Charlie thought, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. The walls of firearms lining Noeul’s walls flashed in her head.

“Surely, you understand my reasoning.” Noeul brushed a stray curl out of her quivering eyes.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t imprison me,” Charlie laughed. She had to laugh— she’d kill him if she didn’t. 

“If you loved me, then you wouldn’t have broken the one fucking law you had to follow.”

“I don’t love you,” Charlie said. “Not anymore, at least, but that should have no bearing on my freedom. On my existence.”

“I don’t care how you feel about me,” Noeul lied. “You sowed discourse in the Council—the one thing left of my father’s administration after he died— you deliberately cheated on me with another Council official, and you tried to start some petty little uprising once you started to face the consequences. You brought this all upon yourself.” 

“I didn’t try to start shit!” Charlie exclaimed, “I spoke out about Dalseum’s ridiculous policies and your treatment of me. You slept with the person who tried to assassinate me while we were still engaged, Noeul! I had no control over how people responded to the truth.”

“You knew exactly what you were doing. Our relationship issues should have no bearing on Dalseum’s politics.”

“It impacts all of Dalseum’s politics! We could have done so much—“

“There was never a ‘we.’ Sara put these delusions of grandeur in your head, and you believed her. I never once implied that you would have any power on the Council.”

“I was supposed to marry you,” Charlie started, her vocal cords tightening as she held back tears. “We were supposed to be equals. I left my whole family because I loved you. You were a good person, Noel. Why the hell do you refuse to change your ways?”

“Because ‘my ways’ have saved lives for generations.”

“But you know that everything you’re doing is wrong. You knew that sleeping with Sonnet was wrong, you knew that leaving your responsibilities to Sara and Gale was wrong, and you knew that doing this to me was wrong. Why the hell do you keep doing this? You’re not Noel anymore—you’re some heartless idiot who only cares about what some filthy rich people think about you.”

“I keep doing this because the safety of a nation and the tradition of my family is more important than my love life. That’s common fucking sense.” 

“This is so much more than your love life,” Charlie snapped. “I wanted to help you. I would have been a good empress. I shared my ideas with the Council— the Council loved me, Noel. Why can I not fit into your traditions?”

“Because you’re everything they stand against! You’re everything my family fought to destroy!”

“What? What do they stand against? Helping the people in the Wasteland? Loosening the borders for people who are trapped here?”

“It was never about any of that. Charlie, you know that.” 

“No, I don’t!” Charlie cried. “I don’t understand why fleeing a country that no longer values me is treasonous! I don’t want to spend my entire life down here, Noel, you know that! It’ll kill me.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before trying to undo the progress of my country. You have no fucking stake in this, Blaire. Dalseum is my responsibility, and I’ll be damned before I let some inbred whore think she knows better than me.” 

Charlie inhaled. “Then let me go.”

“What?”

“If I’m nothing more than some Dixie dumbass to you, let me go home. I’m only wasting your resources down here.” 

“Because you agreed to this. You have to face the consequences of your actions. What did I tell you before you stepped foot here? No one comes in—“

“No one gets out,” they said in unison, Charlie’s tense shoulders dropping. 

“Someday, I’ll let you go— but you’re a danger to Dalseum, the Council, and yourself.” Noeul turned to the exit, the clicking of his pristine heels echoing in the endless nothingness. 

“So are you,” Charlie replied. “The only difference between us is your family name. It’s a real shame— it should have been ours.” 

Noeul didn’t respond. He hung his head for a minute and fumbled with a key attached to a chain in his pocket. 

“Is it true?” he whispered. “What you said during the trial?”

“No,” Charlie admitted. “I made it up as a last-ditch effort. Thank God, I’m not. I couldn’t carry a Sang in good conscience.” 

“You’ve proven my point,” Noeul said, almost grinning. “I can’t have a liar on the Council. I can’t trust a word you say, Blaire.” 

“That damn Council is built on lies, and you know that.” 

“It sure as hell isn’t built on women like you.” Noeul rammed the key into its slot and pried the stone wall open. “I always knew you’d amount to nothing more than your body. You almost had me fooled, but I’m glad I chose Chea over you—carrying on my bloodline would have been all you were good for.”

“Good luck getting Chea to do that for you.”

“I don’t need luck. I have someone with half a brain to replace you.” 

Charlie couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Like I said, good luck with them.” 

“You’ve always been a bitch.” Noeul wedged his foot through the hidden door and disappeared into the bright, blinding Palace halls she once called home.

But not before she managed to scream, “Watch for the hemlock! You’re all next!”

[shoujingshen]

Path to Nowhere really said ‘grief is not linear or logical. you can miss and grieve for a homeland you never saw, the people you barely met, but that you knew were like you. you should be allowed to grieve in the way necessary for you, and you deserve to be supported through that grief. you can make your own family, and they cannot replace your people, but they’re not meant to replace them. they just need to be there for you.’ and I think that’s great.

[wildflowercryptid]

messing around on tegaki again & ended up drawing up an idea i had for a carrier pigeon gijinka oc, her name is pernella "nellie" paloma!

[mamorigami]

thinking about utahimes forehead...

[mmmmuffins]

you meet the worlds most misogynistic person and its literally your mother

[starry-bite]

holy shit is season 3 of picard really about to make me nostalgic for season 2????!!!!

[jadepresentingnipples]

Apparently the way to make me write about my OCs is to get me distracted while writing explanations for my choices on a survey in the tags.

[le-agent-egg]

is it. bad to say that i wish i wasn’t transgender. i wish i was cis. i’d take being a cis woman. i just feel. bad saying that. but being trans/gnc has only managed to hurt me it feels.

[nickbutnodick]

im actually a great person sometimes and i think i dont give myself enough credit for that.

[nezuscribe]

it's that same summer when you're at the gojo summer estate, the one near the sea. you're still teens, long before gojo became arranged!gojo.

your last encounter with gojo was something you brushed off. but gojo couldn't stop thinking about you. you were this puzzle he didn't know how to figure out. this war map that no matter how long he looked at it, none of his past strategies were making sense.

but the two of you go about your usual routine. he's with his friends, and you stick to yourself.

or at least you tried to.

gojo's mother, the lady of the gojo family, was an earnest and strict woman. everybody knew that she wasn't one for games or jokes. she rarely smiled and rarely, rarely, laughed. you, along with all the other kids, knew to bow extra low whenever greeting her. she seemed to carry more power than her husband, but she didn't seem to find an issue with that.

but for a woman who was so keen on tradition, she seemed to care about you a lot more than the other children.

when she spoke to you, her eyes softened. her voice was gentler, more caring. your sisters especially grew annoyed at this, trying to butter up to her even more, but she seemed to harbor this sort of kindness only towards you.

you didn't question this either. it must be some form of pity, but you appreciated it nonetheless. sometimes you pretended like she was your actual mom, but then you quickly shook that thought away, chiding yourself for thinking something so childish.

this sort of gentleness she had with you turned into her trying to include you in things. some days it would be having tea with you when the other adults were having tea somewhere else, or sometimes she'd plan a little dinner with you where you could get dressed up and act like a lady.

tonight, however, she seemed to think that the best way she could include you was to include you in the group of the other kids, a gentle and guiding hand on your protesting back.

"really, i like the library," you insist, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. you had been inside the library for so many hours that you could blink and those high walls filled with books would be seared into your vision.

"nonsense," she tells you, her blue eyes and white hair looking down at your form as she waves it off, "the kids are outside near the fire. they'd be delighted to have you."

you cringe a little bit, wondering if she was just as daft as her son.

but she had found you near the fireplace, trying to stick its warmth as you hunched over yet another book. she decided that enough was enough, you should be out with the other kids.

so you couldn't say much to the woman who was hosting your family to argue, letting her lead you outside the grand patio and into the overbearing fields that led out to the sea, you soon saw the fire crackling away, the sound of laughter filling your ears.

some of the kids who were facing the two of you nudged the other ones to turn around, looks of confusion on their faces as the noblest lady of the land led a quivering you closer to them.

the usual look of caring she had whenever she was with you melted away, turning to something icy as the two of you neared the group. her hand on your back was still present, but you wished that it could somehow push you deep into the ground where you could hide forever.

her eyes looked over the group until they fell on her son, gojo, and narrowed.

everybody's eyes bounced from you over to her.

"there should be room for one more, yes?" she asks, and all the kids quickly nod, moving over on the logs that they had created into makeshift seats as they scrambled to make space for you.

you wondered what it was like to command such respect from people, what it must be like to have people actually listen to you.

she nudges you forward a little bit and you glance up at her one more time, a sort of useless plea as she encourages you to sit down.

you take a deep breath, offering them all an apologetic smile as you slowly sit on a log, your legs cramming together to make yourself seem as small as possible.

you watched as she walked back through the patio, talking to a maid as she motioned over to your group, saying something you couldn't make out, and you looked back to the other kids, the ones you had barely spoken a couple words to, and wince.

"sorry," you say slowly, your hands fidgeting non-stop in your lap as you laugh awkwardly, wishing you could just drop dead.

you can see your sisters seething in the corner, rolling their eyes as they sneer. the other kids nod at you just as tensely, and you wonder how disrespectful it would be if you just went back inside.

you feel a pair of eyes searing in the side of your face, and you look slightly to your right to see gojo staring at you, his eyes slightly squinting, just as his mother did.

you swallow thickly, picking at your nails as you send him a small smile before looking back down at your lap.

you could still feel him looking at you, but you chose to ignore it.

gojo doesn't really know why his mother liked you so much, but he never truly questioned her. she treated you with a tenderness he never saw her treat anybody (aside from him) with. he sometimes saw the two of you sharing tea with each other, other times hearing her laugh whenever you cracked a joke. something unusual for both of you.

his eyes look at your face, taking in the way you duck your head to seem smaller than you are. your eyes avert any contact, teeth gnawing on your already chewed-up lips. gojo looks at your hands, at the way you pick at your nails. he looks at your dress and sees the way the seams are fraying, the initial shape of the dress looking a little bit unfitting on you. almost as if it wasn't made for you specifically. his eyes narrow in more as he pieces it together. the dress is a hand-me-down from your older sister. not because your family couldn't afford a new dress, of course not, but to remind you of your place.

he feels a sting in his chest.

slowly the conversation with the group goes back to usual, the other kids pretending that you weren't there. gojo could feel the arms of one of the girls latched around his, her body pressing into his side as she tried to get closer to him. he wanted to shove her away, but didn't want to make a scene right now.

one of the girl shifted the talk to the topic of couples, talking about how she saw this husband and wife in town the other day who seemed to actually like each other.

one of your sisters, mei, snorts, shaking her head at the idea.

"us girls either marry an old man or a slightly older one," her eyes look over to you, "there's no in-between."

everybody grimaces at that, her other sister, yume, shoving her shoulder roughly at the crude statement.

"what?" mei scoffs, sitting back up as she nudges her chin to you, "she is."

yume gives her a warning look, one that's clearly saying she's saying too much, but mei doesn't seem to care much. everybody stirs, their heads craning with the thrill of gossip.

gojo looks at you and wants to see what you think about all this, but you're so far in your own world that you don't notice the commotion that seems to be directed at you.

mei calls your name, trying to grab your attention, and your head shoots up, brows furrowed to see who needs you.

"right?" she asks, knowing you don't know the answer.

you look around again, wondering if she was just trying to be funny.

"what?" you ask finally.

"you have to marry someone older, yeah?" mei presses, her eyes gleaming as your confusion melts away into one of embarrassment, looking at yume to see if mei was really serious.

of your two sisters, mei was always the mischievous one, if you could even call her cruelty that.

gojo sits up slightly, his brows scrunching up together a little bit at the mention of this. nobody had heard of any marriage offers, especially this early. you were still underage. who...?

you scratch at your neck, heat rising to your cheeks at the sudden attention on you.

"it was just an offer," you say through clenched teeth, shooting mei a look as she just smiles smugly. she knew she'd never have to deal with this.

"who?" one of the guys asks.

"nobody," you say quickly, waving it off as you rub a hand over your face, wondering if you threw yourself on the fire if that would help.

"naoya!" mei says instantly, your eyes widening as she reveals this very secret thing that even your father was trying to keep hushed away. you feel your stomach drop, eyes stinging in embarrassment as gasps echo around the group.

"isn't he...?" one of the girls tries to do the math, seeing how much older he already is.

"i heard he wants children," another girl adds, giving you a look of attempted sympathy but it just looks like a wince, "like, a lot of children."

you shut your eyes, rubbing at your aching forehead. you look briefly at gojo, only to see him looking incredulously at you. he's the only one who doesn't seem to be talking in a shocked or excited tone.

everybody gets excited about a terrible marriage offer when it's not them who have to offer themselves up.

he's studying you, seeming to be the only one who sees the way your chest is heaving, as if you're struggling to breathe. or the glossy look in your eyes, the way you dart them away so nobody can see. gojo looks over at mei, at the way she looks satisfied for delivering her piece of gossip for the night,

at your expense.

he doesn't know why he feels the way he does, or why he drags the girls arm away from him as he stands up, shrugging his coat over his frame as everybody suddenly looks at him.

but he's only looking at you.

"i forgot to give you your blanket from last week." he says simply, his voice heavy and coarse, as if he hadn't used it in a while, "come with me,"

well, he never said he was good at lying.

but he puts a steady arm on your shoulder, helping you stand up as you shoot him a confused look, letting him lead you away as the silence behind you becomes defeating.

you wipe at your nose, sniffling silently as he leads you through the grassy field.

he glances down at you. this is the second time the two of you have been alone, and the first time he's ever seen you on the verge of tears.

"thank you," you murmur thickly, rubbing at your eyes with your palms as you laugh wetly, "she wasn't supposed to say..." you trail off, looking away from him in embarrassment.

gojo guides you up the porch, behind a long marble pillar where the two of you are away from the other's curious stares.

he's never been good at comforting people, but he's never wanted to more than now.

"she's right, though," you say through a stutter, arms crossing at your chest as if that's what gojo was thinking about, "naoya, he-" you can't finish the sentence, the reality of it too heavy for you.

naoya proposed a month ago. a marriage offer for when you turn of age. he was desperate to find a wife, but not too many women were desperate to make him their husband. but your father needed the alliance, and your father's wife needed you away, so they swiftly agreed to it.

gojo's hand still hasn't left your shoulder, and he gives it a small squeeze.

"i'm sorry about this," you motion to yourself, laughing humorleslsy, "i didn't mean to...gods, i just...i don't want to be his w-wife," you admit quietly, shaking your head as you hide your face in your hands, "i-i don't want to have his children."

gojo feels bile rise to his throat at the thought of that.

he's only seen you twice. why does he care so much about what happens to you?

"somebody else will come along," he says in a whisper, and you look at him through your fingers, dropping them to your side as you blink slowly, rubbing at your cheeks.

"no good man wants to marry me," you tell him quietly, without any trace of pity for yourself, something that was simply the truth, "if not naoya, then another variant of him."

gojo leans down slightly to level with you, his lips pressed into a thin line.

you don't know why he's so close, or why he looks more worried for you than anybody else has. you shrug him off of you, trying to collect yourself as you peer through one of the large windows that look inside the estate.

"you can get rid of that blanket," you mutter, eyes darting from the window to his stunning blue ones, ones that make your knees slightly weak, "i was going to knit a new one anyways."

you bid your farewells, nodding lowly at him as you find your way inside.

gojo watches your back, looking back at the group as he runs a hand through his hair, gripping at his white locks in frustration.

he doesn't know what he's feeling. he doesn't know why he wants naoya suddenly dead. he doesn't know why he's not going to listen to what you just asked him to do, or why he wants to hold onto that blanket.

gojo doesn't know why you suddenly infiltrate his every waking moment, or why he needs to see naoya buried alive just so that you wouldn't have to marry him.

he doesn't know the answer to any of these things. but he doesn't know if he wants to.

[daraoakwise]

150 years ago, a boy was born to my great-great grandmother. And that was the last time that happened anywhere on my maternal line until my son was born in 2016. This is a story about intersex people.

For 150 years, the women of my family kept having daughters, who either also had daughters, or they were oddly unable to have children. Strange quirk, we assumed. No boys.

In the late 1970s, my mother’s sister had a daughter with Down Syndrome. Genetic testing was done, and it was discovered that although she looked female, she actually possessed the male XY chromosome combination. Her sister was born three years later. And because of that genetic concern, her genes were checked. And she possessed … the XY chromosomes. A third daughter, born a few years later, possessed the usual XX.

Keeping in the tradition, my mother had two daughters. Because of our cousins’ genetic conditions, my sister and I were both checked. Both of us appeared typically XX. And so for more than thirty years, it was dismissed as a quirk, and no one said the word intersex because that wasn’t a thing in 1980.

In 2014 I had a son, breaking the chain of girls. It was an interesting story! I then had two daughters, and didn’t bother to do any genetic checking.

And then in 2020 my sister became pregnant. Early genetic testing said boy, XY. Twenty week anatomy scan said girl. Definitely 100% girl. Uhhh?! As expected, she*** was born genetically male, possessing only male gonads in the form of undescended testes, but female external genitalia.

It was Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome, a genetic mutation carried on the X chromosome. See, all bodies start female. Then, when the hormonal influence of the Y chromosome kicks in, instructions on the X are supposed to detect the testosterone and create male genitalia. Except a person with AIS is non-reactive to testosterone, and the body stays, at least superficially, female. Genetic check would say boy. Presence of testes says boy. Pants check says girl. Making the question of sex (sex. Gender is something else, ok?) distinctly complicated.

If someone has a mother who is a carrier of AIS, there are 4 possibilities. Unaffected XY, and so genetically and structurally male. Affected XY, and so intersex. Affected XX, and so a female carrier. Unaffected XX female and entirely unaffected.

My grandmother was a carrier. My aunt and mother are carriers. My sister is a carrier. When my niece was born, my single non-intersex cousin and I did genetic testing. And we are both carriers as well. My son is an unaffected XY male. My niece is affected XY intersex. Both my cousin and I also have 2 daughters each. And, because it is medically and psychologically relevant, we had them tested. All XX.****

And I was ready to check one more thing: are my daughters carriers? There is a 50/50 chance. And then I stopped, because they are preschoolers, and that is their reproductive decision. They know three intersex people. And if they care, someday they can check their genes and the odds that my grandchildren will be intersex. The intersex people they know will, I hope, be able to talk to them about the beauty of their lives as one of the wonderful variations of humanity.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Viking! König

————

Viking! König Headcanons

NSFW

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————

Viking König who starts making sharper weapons to slaughter his enemies

Viking König who has a soft spot only for his wife. You came from a different village, one that König is known for “collecting their tax” for his protection. You were part of an arranged marriage because your family couldn’t pay him, so you where the payment

Viking König who won’t let anything happen to you. You both grew to love each other

Viking König has a bit of that dad body with a bit of muscle to him

Viking König who is covered in traditional tribal tattoos for his bravery as a warrior and clan leader

Viking König who lives kind of secluded from everyone else but everyone knows where to find him if anything happens

With that being said Viking König like to take baths in the river with you naked joining him in the same river you both washing dirt off each other and it leads into something more

Viking König has started to like walking around his home naked or half naked and likes for you to join him

Viking König who loves seeing your face, moaning his name or placing your small hands on his lower stomach knowing he is way bigger than you and you look sexy as hell under him

Viking König who’s favorite position is missionary because he loves seeing your face while you are under him taking him so well

Viking König who carries you on his arm showing you off in a way, you are all giddy when he flexes and you are slightly raised up

Viking König who treats you like the Queen or Princess you are. You sit on his lap in the great dining hall with the entire clan. He let’s you eat from his plate that was more of a feast than anything

Viking König who eats you out on the big table with the clan members acting like nothing is happening

Viking König loves being home and sees his wife walking around the home nothing but bare skin

Viking König who loves you laying on the warm furs on your shared bed

“How could you look so beautiful?” You just shrug at his comment

Viking König who loves seeing you get off with nothing but your fingers, your warm bodies finally getting close to each other and he starts to help you out

Viking König who hates being interrupted while his time with you

“Someone better be dying!” König yells.

Viking König who is intimidating, buff, cold, ruthless, and cruel, the little time he has with you and it gets interrupted by someone he’s pissed

Viking König who sits on his throne as a traitor was amongst his clan

Viking König who lets the traitor take an axe to the face and head and then goes back to you

Viking König who starts wanting a child

Viking König who takes his time with the baby making till you were comfortable with the idea of having to carry a baby around in you for 9 months

Viking König who treats you like you were glass. His hands always holding you as you tried to move around the clan

Viking König who scares off all the man who thought you looked even more sexier when you were pregnant

“How dare they look at you?” König growls while looking down at you

“I’m okay, König,” you tell him, patting his arm.

Viking König who becomes a tad jealous of your baby always latched to you

Viking König who is seen as the best father

Viking König who takes your sons hunting for the first time. He shows your son how to shot a bow, it started out with fish and he made his way to start hunting turkey and deer next

Viking König who sees your daughters making things out of leaves and flowers. Flower crowns, and woven baskets, he like carrying them around for her as she collects her materials for more things to make

Viking König who sends his kids to bed early because he loves to have his time with you, making love to you and kissing every square inch of your body just hear your soft moans

Viking König who loves having date night in a stream of water naked with you, you two drinking and it became very heated in the water

Viking König who likes to play with his children, having a lot of kids and he spends all of his time with them the best her could

Viking König who gets caught in the middle of his daughters braiding his hair, putting flowers in his hair, curling his hair with pinecones and they pretended to give him more tattoos

Viking König who plays 'hide and seek' with his sons, showing them how to not get caught by the enemy and how to be sneaky when also hunting.

"I found you Leon," König says, pointing an arrow at his son hiding behind a tree.

"Dad~" he groans, coming out from behind the tree.

"I saw you Claus," he comes out from the tree, that Leon was behind.

"Felix, go wash up, your mother will hate seeing you covered in mud. If I can see you, your enemy will too," König says as he walked back to his home with his boys behind him.

Viking König who starts training himself to get ready for when he has to leave you and his children for a battle

Viking König who hates when he has to leave, he's leaving you to handle 5 kids on your own

Viking König who started a big feast before he has to leave