#The Sovereign's Ring

[anxietytwist]

𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐥 𝐕𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐲𝐫

“𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞”

[ 𝟷𝟾 | 𝟼'𝟸" | Nonbinary | Biro Demi | 💖𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐚 ]

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

⧼𝕾𝖙𝖞𝖑𝖊⧽

“𝘏𝘪𝘨𝘩-𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘰𝘯”

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

⧼𝕱𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖆𝖗⧽

“𝐏𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧”

𝘋𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

⧼𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘⧽

𝗦𝗲𝘅➙ AFAB 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘀➙ They/Them 𝗕𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗱➙ 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱➙ Scholar

✨️ 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞 is an introvert & tries their very best to avoid “uncontrolled” social situations (when they interact with people they're, at the very least, acquaintances with they feel somewhat comfortable)

✨️ It was very much “infatuation at 𝟷ˢᵗ sight” when they met 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐚 (sadly after her correspondence abruptly stopped, their feelings began dwindling after a long period of heartbreak 😔💔) ... when they meet once again it takes 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞 a while to trust 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐚 again (“once bitten, twice shy”)

✨️ They realized they were trans & began (socially) transitioning at age 𝟷𝟹 🏳️‍⚧️

✨️ 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞 is a crybaby ... & while they HAVE gotten better at processing their emotions they still tend to cry whenever they experience overwhelming emotions (positive & negative) 😥

✨️ They're rarely seen without their mama's 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘵 around their neck

✨️ As much as they love their aunt, they're still painfully aware (even as a very young child) that she is NOT a true replacement for their mama

✨️ They absolutely adore both of their brothers ... even if 𝐀𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 can be a bit patronizing & 𝐒𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐭 is emotionally distant at times 🙃

✨️ 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞 has massive abandonment issues (their biggest fear is that EVERYONE they love is going to leave them eventually ... & they'll be alone again) which leads to some not-so-healthy thoughts & behaviour patterns (nothing “extreme” or “harmful” to the other party though ... mainly just to themselves)

✨️ Despite being so small, 𝐏𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧 often functions as their “emotional support bird” 💕🐤

✨️ 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞'𝐬 favourite hobby is dancing (ballet, ballroom, etc.), not only does it keep them fit & quick on their feet, it's also A LOT of fun for them

✨️ They're a “smile through the pain” kind of person (unless someone knows them & their queues well, it's hard to tell when they're actually upset) 🥲

✨️ 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞 loved their time at the 𝐼𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑈𝑛𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑦 & hopes to continue their studies, as well as the research they were assisting with, in the future

✨️ ...

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

𝐼𝐹: @thesovereignsring-if

•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•●•

Picrew used:

Transparent PNG (Bird) site:

#TSR #if: TSR #TSR-if #TSR if #TSR game #The Sovereign's Ring #The Sovereign's Ring IF #The Sovereign's Ring-if #if: The Sovereign's Ring #The Sovereign's Ring game #CYOA #choice game #IF #interactive fiction game #interactive fiction #Twine #Twine game #Twine IF #The Sovereign's Ring MC #The Sovereign's Ring OC #The Sovereign's Ring PC #TSR mc #TSR oc #TSR pc #IF OCs #character profile #𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞: “Yes my girlfriend is a foot shorter than me ... & yes she WILL verbally/socially eviscerate you if you're mean to me~” ☺️ #𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞: “You can bully me & be as mean as you want ... but don't you DARE mistreat anyone I care about!”

[bonesnt]

Got attached to the boys already after reading the prologue, so I tried to draw a couple really rough portraits for the Vagnyr siblings from @thesovereignsring-if

So from the top: Alberich, Sieghardt and my MC when they eventually grow up a bit. (Just based on the vibes I got from the prologue. Probably will change later.)

(And no I’m not sorry for giving Alberich the anime dead mom hair assffhjkl)

#art #fanart #interactive fiction #The Sovereign's Ring #wish I can render them more but I got a little short on time

[yaeggravate]

EVERYONE NEEDS TO WAKE UP RIGHT NOW

edit: unfortunately, new footage shows that when neuvilette's charged attack doesn't hit any enemies, the stars don't appear... so it might just be a random impact effect that vaguely resembles the star.

HOWEVER... footage from the live stream* shows that stars DO appear when he's powering up his charged attack and interestingly enough, they're surrounded by purple ousia energy even though neuvilette is a pneuma aligned character.

*it should be noted that footage from the live stream isn't indicative of the final product

#no idea what this means #but if neuvi really is a dragon then that 8 pointed star probably originated from the dragon sovereigns #also the fact that the dragon king is called nibelung #in wagner's ring cycle nibelung is alberich lol lmao even #.txt

[nerdybookahs]

Still Waiting - Games on my Wishlist

Still Waiting - Games on my Wishlist #Blaugust2023

I saw Krikket write about her oldest wishlisted upcoming games and thought it would be interesting to check mine. I was sure I would have about the same amount that she does but boy, was I wrong. 84 wishlisted items including 2 DLCs. So let’s see about the ones that have been on my wishlist the longest: June 2020: Sovereign’s Will I have not given up hope, but it did decrease over the years.…

View On WordPress

#Blaugust #Blaugust 2023 #Fata Deum #Gremlins Inc. - Card Game #House Flipper City #Intergalactic Pawn Shop #Ring of Fire #Sovereign&039;s Will

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

The Request

Overlords. The sovereign rulers of various domains and areas of the Pride Ring. Sinners that rose to power through dealing with souls and troppling over the weak to show who’s the one in power and control. Together, they own millions of souls and representing the controlling powers of the city

Yet what sets them apart from the other demons in power? Why were they the sovereign rulers of their specialty and not another that claims or tries to threaten them so? 

There’s a system, a power even beyond them combined and rival that of the King and Queen’s, that stablizes them. A supporting system, if you will, one that approves of the Overlords’ existence. As other rings have their Sin to impose power and their form of order, Pride has something similar. The founder of the Overlords and owner of their souls; the Collector

To call yourself an Overlord and rule over some form of territory, be it a street, a block, a town, a building complex, you have been approved by the Collector. No, one doesn’t seek the Collector out, the Collector seeks them out. It proves potential, it proves worth, and it proves attention-worthiness. All Overlords know who were the real one by the mark on their souls, a stamp of proof, that they’d take pride in

Rarely to none would the Collector gather Overlords together. So they make their own gatherings to keep track of any new members to their collection. There were times when some would fake their claim, they were viciously shredded where they lied. There was barely any proof, the mere aura and presence was enough to tell

All Overlords were the Collector’s prized souls, their worth to the Collector is shown when their mark remains intact as time goes by. Once the Collector deemed the Overlord as trash, they are let go and the other remaining Overlords will devour to keep the collection worthy

It’s the Overlords’ goal and duty to remain relevant and strive to be stronger. Not only to secure their title as an Overlord, but to also stay within the Collector’s elite collection

“Do you hereby swear your allegiance to me, the Collector, so long as you are in my favour? In return for entering my collection, you will be protected and secured of your authority and strive in your domain. Know that only I am able to throw you away and none other should you fall beyond my interest and favour.”

“I solemnly gage (I solemnly swear).”

“Yes, as you wish.”

“Why, absolutely, Darling!”

“F**k yes!”

“Of course, Dear.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Naturally.”

“Hell’s yes!”

Alastor felt it, his soul like a beating heart when one meets their love. His smile widening and excitement building up within him. At the same time, there was the touch of nervousness too. He quickly made his way down to the lobby where Charlie was seen welcoming a few guest that wanted to be redeemed

Well, the hotel has been gaining popularity after the battle with the exterminators and the fact that they won was no secret or easy feat to pull. Maybe the renovations also played a part. But Charlie was none the wiser whenever someone was expressing a want to be redeemed 

Though to Alastor, it was a bigger deal when he spotted what was among the group of newcomers. There was no mistaken it, it had to be. While you were in disguise, you were still as elegant and commanding as the day he sold his soul to you and be the only one to have gained your attention and favour the fastest among your collection

Alastor held himself back, he wasn’t proper of him to interrupt Charlie’s little welcoming speech and you wouldn’t like it if he did. Luckily, while Charlie was busy with settling the other guest before you, he was given his chance to greet you

“Alastor, pleasure to be in your presence,” Alastor took your hand and kissed your knuckles, his eyes staring up at yours while he bowed low to show respect and the need to please. “Quite the pleasure.”

“Charmed.” You let a smirk form on your face, though it quickly fade to keep up with appearances

“May I inquire as to what brings you to this fine and renewed establishment?”

Charlie arrived in time to greet you as well. Being her usual cheerful and upbeat self even after all these years, and surviving the horrid battle against the angels. If you weren’t in disguise, you would have given her a pat on the head and a hug to comfort her. Yet you stick to your little plan and stayed level headed

It was merely to fine a place to stay, you explained how Vox was someone that had no sense of privacy with how he bugged everything. You kept the spying on you part to yourself, though you knew Alastor caught on when you mentioned Vox’s devices. Then you gestured to Alastor and praised that he was a perfect counter and addition to the hotel building since he cancels out Vox’s devices naturally

Alastor let out annoyed radio static when he learned of Vox displeasing you, how disrespectful. If only Vox could do even worse to be dropped out of the collection, then there’d be a real battle. Since deathly fights between the Overlords was forbidden. Still, Alastor could feel his smile widening at the superiority over Vox he had and praise he received, even with his 7 year disappearance, you didn’t let him go

Vaggie was quick to reject your stay and attempt to push you out when you weren’t even lying to want to be redeemed. Saying that the hotel wasn’t a rent-free place for demons to just show up to crash for their own amusement

Alastor was smart and quick to interject and maybe nearly slap Vaggie lobby but he managed to keep his hands behind his back. He gestured to the other guests as he made a point that turning away guest was rather rude for someone wanting to redeem demons. You added you can pay if it was too much, or just leave. Which gave Alastor a mini panic

Charlie agreed in the end and Vaggie received a look from Alastor while you thanked them with a smile. Alastor followed closely behind you while the tour was underway with the other new residents. When Charlie was arranging everyone’s stay, Alastor immediately had your room key ready, promising that it was the best room the hotel can provide. If you lacked anything, he’ll provide!

Since everything simmered down, you were in your room waiting for Alastor’s knock on your door to bring him to his radio tower that was guaranteed to not be listened in. He showed up at record time and offered you his hand to teleport the two of you to his tower

With a snap of your fingers, you let your disguise fall, revealing you in your glory and natural look. You sat on his desk while Alastor stood. The two of you started chatting then inquiring about the other’s well-being and current entertainment

It was rare, but you do visit your Overlords from time to time just to chat or catch up, it not only shows a want to connect and understand your souls, but also your continued interest in keeping them. There were times when your meeting with them could be a sign of you removing your hold over their soul, then it was a matter of time before the other Overlords knew about this development and hunt them down to own or destroy

An example was Husk. In your observant and keen eyes, you watched as he bet on the power and protection you granted him without a second thought, thinking that he would win back soon enough. Not soon enough for you as it would appear. You didn’t even visit him, you merely let him go without a word of warning. In fact, your patience and the extra time were your warnings

One that he didn’t even realize he was given. So Alastor set out to dominate Husk when he was removed from the collection. With Alastor’s win, he owned Husk’s soul and revealed that he was history to you. The look on Husk’s face was enough of a dedication to you, Alastor returned his dues

Though there were times when you allowed some lesser demons into your circle. Namely the Vees, specifically Valentino. He was at risk of your removal, yet time and time again, he was saved by Vox and Velvette who proved they work better as a team than individually like other Overlords. So to keep Vox and Velvette, Valentino was allowed to stay

That’s until you find more worthy ones

Yet it was in the Overlords’ nature to be the remaining one in your collection. To put down the other as a method of showing their superiority to you. You knew this ploy, so you set that they weren’t to fight or belittle the other with the aim to kill. You didn’t need or want souls that would harm other souls you hand picked

The Vees were your unique case. A case that was fragile to maintain. Wrong moves here and there, disrespectful words spatted out, risky actions committed. And they risk their entire group gone from your collection. Was there one that was save from your removal? Hardly, it was with a comparison does Vox and Velvette appear to be better

“When are you going to show me your wound, Alastor?” You got to your goal. You knew of the battle, you also knew Alastor took up the impossible task of defeating Adam to show you he was strong to remain in your elite. You knew your souls do their best to maintain your interest in them. Alastor was no different, especially when he disappeared for 7 years.

“A mere scratch! Nothing for you to worry over.” Alastor laughed, who was he lying to?

“It wasn’t a question.” You spoke with half-lid eyes staring back at him.

He flinched and bowed his head, slowly undoing his coat and shirt, finally showing you the large bandaged wound that was soaking with more blood by the minute. “It’s… not as bad as it seem…”

You becken him closer to you so you could inspect it. Silence filled the room. Alastor was ashamed, the silence was deafening to him, he can’t handle it. His heart beat fast, his mind wondered if you’re throwing him away like you did Husk. This was the calm before the storm.

His head jerked up when your soft hands pressed against the center of his chest, he’d have felt more of your touch if not for the layers of bandages. A warm feeling covered his wound and he felt energized and relaxed, his knees caving in when your hand retreated

He didn’t even realize his head was in your lap as his ears pinned back while your hands combed through his hair soothingly. His eyes closed from the peace he felt

It reminded him of the time when he first met you. How foolish was he to want to overtake you, to think you were weak, to think that you were only relying on the souls you collected. No, you held real power, power he can’t even imagine

“Alastor, you know I’m never going to let your soul go, right?”

“Thank you, My Liege.”

BONUS!

When another Overlord meeting was held, nearly all were in attendance. The news of your appearance was enough of a goad to draw in the others. Even the Vees were all present

Once everyone was seated, Alastor took the floor. You approached him, he wasn’t released by you, and you were staying where he was. As expected, there was an uproar. How was Alastor this lucky?!

Alastor directed to Vox, retelling your displeasure in his stalking while he defended that it was for protection. More eyes directed to Vox, seeing him as the reason why you weren’t as active as before, you were uncomfortable because of all the devices and camera Vox has around the city

“Hahaha! However you spin this to your favour, you can’t deny that Our Lovely Protector and Liege is vexed by your actions. So much so that Our Liege has seeked me out for haven! Now what’s to be done about that, hm?”

“You little!!!”

Meanwhile, you watched from the comforts of your room while a holographic display. A fond smile on your face and a chuckle of amusement let out, “I’ve collected quite the group, huh? I never get bored with them around.”

Note: Yes~ This is out now!! Wonder if you guys like this one. I'm wondering if I should add 'yandere', but then it's more like that, more of devotion and loyalty. Anyways! Love to hear your thoughts (if you have any)

I got a challenge for you though!! Can you name, in order, all the Overlords that were used to illustrate swearing allegiance to?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

@mistpurpl3

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Circe's requested writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #alastor fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Collection of Overlords

[healerinchief]

Pro-Choice = One who supports a proposal or takes the affirmative side in a debate for the power, right, or liberty to choose; option. 

I wish all the people who claim to be "pro-choice" who are actually only pro-abortion would have the courage and integrity to be honest and admit that... instead of masquerading as something they are not.

Since 2020 it's been made very clear that pro-abortion people are not the same as pro-choice people. There is some overlap, but very minor given how many people have wanted the government to choose their way of life for them versus taking personal and complete ownership of their own lives.

I am 100% pro-choice.

That means I am 100% for each individual, male or female, to have the freedom to choose what they do with their bodies, including what they put in or on their bodies, as well as how they choose to live their lives as long as they are not going out of their way to intentionally harm others... even if it's something that I would never do, even if I may not see the value of them doing so, and even if it makes me uncomfortable.

Ultimately it comes down to minding your own business, being honest, and giving people the right to be their most authentic selves... even when it is the polar opposite of your most authentic self.

Love, Logic, and Liberty,

Sorinne - Healer in Chief

#pro choice #pro abortion #integrity matters #words matter #be honest #be courageous #be yourself #respect one another #healer in chief #soul food for thought #take off your mask #sorinne2020 #sorinne ardeleanu #small government #freedom matters #let freedom ring #founding principles #american dream #sovereignity #self ownership #be consistent #cognitive dissonance #free choice #mind your own business

[thesovereignsring-if]

Your golden eyes are red rimmed and splotchy with tears. You had cried the entire trip and nothing your brothers did could soothe your tears. Mama was dead.

DEMO: PROLOGUE (PLAY HERE!)

(08/19/2023)

Word Count: 15,000+ words

After a little over a month of writing and coding, I'm very proud to release the Prologue!

Patch notes (08/19/2023):

Mobile users can now save their progress from the main menu at the top of the screen (look for the downwards arrow) .  Fixed some of the UI so it doesn't look ugly as sin on mobile.  Fixed the bug preventing font-size configuration from the settings menu. 

What to expect:

✦ Move to the Imperial City of Nephilim

✦ Celebrate your Birthday! (I hear there's going to be cake!)

✦ Meet your other family members and make some friends.

✦ Do some family bonding and learn some history.

✦ And have a lot fun! :)

CONTENT WARNING: The Sovereign's Ring is intended for an 18+ audience. The Sovereign’s Ring contains disturbing/dark subject matter that is not for everyone, such as graphic depictions of violence, gore, death, trauma, sexism, racism, poverty, misogyny, sexual assault/violence, child abuse/grooming, suicide, depression, alcohol more.

The prologue is short and sweet and will set the tone for the rest of the game. I did intend to make a bit longer- but at some point it felt like it was overstaying welcome. I'll come back to it one day, if I ever want to write about palace life.

Please enjoy! If you come across any bugs/errors shoot a message to my inbox and we can cry together while I try and fix it. :)

✦ Lili ✦

#The Sovereign's Ring #Public Demo #I'm so nervous i'm going to throw up #instead I will sleep now. #writing is not my strongest suit #but here we are! #interactive fiction #if wip #twine if #twine interactive fiction #twine wip #if

[dewdropdinosaur]

I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship

ALASTOR x (F) READER

Summary: You are Charlie's older sister and the pristine image of what a princess of Hell should be. But sometimes even perfect pretty princesses have their secrets.

Warnings: NONE

This was a request from the lovely @fandomfan-102

REQUESTS OPEN

In the heart of Hell, amidst the chaotic streets and vibrant nightlife, stood the Hazbin Hotel, a haven for lost souls seeking redemption. Among its eccentric inhabitants was Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, a charismatic figure whose mere presence commanded attention. Furthermore,  Y/N Morningstar, the older sister of Charlie, the hotel's founder; too commanded the room with her devilish charm and royal style. 

Unlike her sister, Y/N was a bit more of what people expected from a princess of Hell. Though by no means was she sadistic or remotely close to some demon’s level, she was not as bubbly or optimistic as her sister. More cunning, reserved, and always dressed to impress; Y/N held power unknown and one that could possibly even rival her father. 

Fortunately or unfortunately depending on who you ask, Y/N often found herself drawn to the enigmatic Alastor. Their love, a delicate dance hidden from prying eyes, grew stronger with each stolen moment amidst the cacophony of Hell's chaos. Stolen kisses, lying about laying one's head on the other's shoulder. Whispers of sweet nothings in the back of hallways and sly hand holds.

At first, to the average outsider, Alastor might have been using Y/N for power or station but truly as time wore on; he grew to love her in his own way. Yes, their relationship was not like most but despite their differences, a deep connection had blossomed between them, eventually culminating in a secret engagement under the light of the red moon as Alastor presented Y/N with a heartfelt declaration and a ring. 

As fate would have it, soon news spread like wildfire through the corridors of the hotel that Lucifer himself would grace them with his presence. Panic swept through the inhabitants, each scrambling to prepare for the arrival of the feared and revered ruler of Hell. As rumors spread of Lucifer Morningstar's imminent visit to the hotel, tension crackled in the air. Lucifer, the Lord of Hell himself, was rarely seen outside his domain, and his presence promised both excitement and trepidation.

Y/N and Alastor found themselves in a particularly precarious position. While their love burned bright, Lucifer's presence threatened to expose their secret engagement. Yet, they dared to hope that their careful charade would remain intact. On the eve of Lucifer's arrival, Alastor and Y/N found solace in each other's company, stealing fleeting moments of affection amidst the chaos. Little did Y/N know that the carefully guarded secret was about to be thrust into the spotlight by none other than Alastor himself. 

On the fateful day of Lucifer's visit, tension hung so thick in the air a cannibal could have taken a bite out of it.. The inhabitants of the hotel stood on edge, awaiting the arrival of their sovereign. As the grand doors swung open, revealing the imposing figure of Lucifer, the room fell into a hushed silence. As Lucifer's shorter but nonetheless dominating figure materialized in the hotel's grand foyer, all eyes turned to him. Charlie greeted her father with nervous excitement, eager to showcase the progress of her ambitious project.

Alastor, ever the charismatic showman, stepped forward to greet the Dark Lord, a charming smile playing upon his lips. Power plays were always Alastor speciality. 

"Ah pleasure to meet you sir, quite a pleasure. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. Though I must say,  you are much shorter in real life." Alastor declared with a flourish. 

With an annoyed look, Lucifer replied “Who is this? Who is this man? Are you the bellhop?” 

"Ah no. I am the host of the hotel. You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast. Or from my fiance Y/N."

If the floor could have dropped beneath Y/N, it would have. The words hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating the room with stunned silence. All eyes turned to Y/N, whose cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment and whose eyes glared at her lover. Charlie's jaw dropped in disbelief, her eyes darting between her sister and the Radio Demon.

Gritting her teeth, Y/N whispered “Alastor…what in the devil are you doing?”

Lucifer's expression remained inscrutable as he regarded Alastor with a raised eyebrow. "Is that so?" he mused, his voice dripping with disdain. "Well, well, it seems my daughter has been keeping secrets from me." 

Charlie's jaw dropped in shock, her mind struggling to process the unexpected revelation. She shot a bewildered glance at her sister, who could only offer a sheepish shrug in response.

The spirited founder of the Hazbin Hotel stood frozen in disbelief, her eyes widening in shock at the bombshell dropped by Alastor. She blinked rapidly, struggling to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

"Wait, what?" Charlie stammered, her voice laced with incredulity. "Y/N, you're engaged to...Alastor?"

Husk, the cynical bartender with a penchant for chronic alcoholism, arched an eyebrow at the revelation, his expression a mixture of skepticism and mild amusement.

"Well, I'll be damned," Husk remarked dryly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Guess Hell just froze over." His boss did really have it in him.

Angel Dust, the flamboyant and irreverent resident of the Hazbin Hotel, let out a raucous laugh at the surprising news, clapping his hands together with glee.

"Hot damn, talk about a plot twist!" Angel exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Looks like we've got ourselves a real-life soap opera unfolding right here!"

Despite the initial shock, the atmosphere soon shifted, morphing into a cacophony of laughter and chatter as Lucifer not so graciously accepted the news of his daughter's engagement. After several threats towards the Radio Demon, the King of Hell reluctantly relented though he did stay close to his oldest daughter’s side the rest of his visit. 

Alastor and Y/N found themselves enveloped in a whirlwind of congratulations and well-wishes from their surprised friends and colleagues.

As the night wore on, amidst the revelry and celebration, Alastor and Y/N stole a quiet moment alone, their hands intertwined as they basked in the warmth of their newfound truth. Despite the unexpected turn of events, they knew that their love would endure, for in the heart of Hell, where chaos reigned supreme, their bond remained unbreakable. Though Y/N did get payback at Alastor for his little stunt. You can imagine how that went over my dear reader. 

#romance #hazbin hotel fandom #alastor the radio demon #answered #hazbin hotel alastor #vizziepop #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #radio killed the video star #request #alastor x reader #secret engagement #hidden love #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #charlie morningstar #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #dead beat dad #take that depression #help me this fandom has a hold on my soul #king of hell

[bonesnt]

More sketch for Alberich from @thesovereignsring-if

Love character with braids :]

#art #fanart #interactive fiction #sketches #the sovereign’s ring #thesovereignsring-if

[redrook]

not too proud to say that sometimes I send my flop posts to my husband beemovieerotica so I can get more notes

I feel like a simple peasant kissing the ring of my lord and sovereign if only he should aid my humble village with this year's harvest at his leisure

#my husband beemovieerotica

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to A Coronation

Coronations are the ceremony in which your monarch is confirmed by church or state or the people by the bestowing of a crown and regalia and the taking of oaths. So how do we write them?

When does Coronation takes place?

A Coronation usually takes place some time after death of the previous monarch. Past coronations would take place mere weeks after the death of a monarch as it was essential that the monarch be crowned to confirm their legitimacy. Modern coronations would take place months after the death of a monarch. In this time period, the new monarch IS the monarch - just uncrowned. This does not effect their powers in any way.

What’s in a Coronation?

Coronations are usually very lavish affairs. These are not only just ceremonies, these are statements a sort of opening show to the monarch's reign. A Coronation will usually be accompanied by numerous parades, balls, pageants, military displays and concerts. It's usually framed as a celebration of the Royal family of the monarch or the nation as a whole. The population is expected to celebrate.

Who attends a Coronation?

Coronations were big affairs. Many invitations would be sent out, inviting representatives from other nations, friends and allies, even uncertain friends and unfriendly nations. Other monarchs are generally not invited out of tradition but they will send heirs and relatives to represent them. Coronations were a display of wealth and power and it was in the monarch's best interest to get as many people there as possible. Coronations were also essential to monarchy for one very good reason: not only were you recognised by the state but it was a chance to accept fealty - promises of loyalty - from nobles. Many nobles from across the land would be invited to witness and then profess their loyalty to the Monarch.

What to Wear to a Coronation?

Coronations were meant to be pageants so everybody wore their very best clothes, jewels and put their best foot forward. Peers or nobles would wear red velvet robes (see above) over their clothes along with coronets (also see above) denoting rank. Traditional clothing would also be encouraged, the Japanese Imperial family often don traditional garments for their enthronements. The Royal family would wear military uniform or royal robes usually purple velvet rather than red trimmed with ermine. They would also wear coronets. The monarch would usually be the most expensive dressed, yet however this can also backfire. The monarch has to be modest yet also outdone everybody. George IV made the grave faux pas of spending a shit ton of money on his outfit for the coronation which he only wore the once. Most monarchs tend to have their Robes and clothes embroidered with emblems of the nation and to wear significant relics during the ceremony.

The Ceremony

After a procession through the streets the monarch and/or their Consort arrive on the scene. They will be wrapped in red velvet Robes on their arrival and accompanied by pages or maids of honour who help carry the train of their Robes.

Before the monarch, selected peers will carry the regalia. These are the relics that are bestowed on the monarch throughout the ceremony. These usually include the crown itself, the sceptres, the coronation ring, the coronation Robes and an orb.

In some instances, the monarch would be presented to the assembled crowd at each Cardinal point - North, south, east, west and proclaimed the undoubted king/queen/sovereign. It is then the crowd issue an acceptance.

Monarchs would then be asked to take oaths by the figure ordaining them before the assembled crowd. These oaths would be one of service, something along the lines of promising to uphold law and tradition, being merciful, trying not to murder the peasants too much, keep their deity on side and try not to be too much of a failure.

Then monarch will sit on the throne and be anointed. During this part, they usually put a linen smock over their clothes to protect their finery. The anointing in Western culture is usually linked to Christianity, with the application of holy oil. However, the annointing can be replaced with a blessing in any other setting. During this part of the ceremony, the monarch and/or the Consort is shielded by a canopy of cloth of gold held aloft by high ranking nobles. This part of the ceremony is not to be witnessed by the crowd. It is sacred.

Then the monarch is wrapped in their new Robes. They are presented the regalia. The orb represents the monarch's power. The ring is symbolic of wedding oneself to duty. The sceptre is symbolic of power over governance. Once the monarch has been wrapped up and given these items, the Crown is then lowered onto their head. The crown is usually a jewel stubbed coronet fitted over a velvet cap and trimmed with ermine. There would be the monarch's crown and the Consort's crown (which is usually that much smaller). Around them, the nobility will place their coronets on simultaneously while the military give a gun salute.

After this, the Royal family and the peers would then come and kneel before the monarch, removing their coronets and making their oath of "I swear that I will pay true allegiance to Your Majesty, and to your heirs and successors according to law. So help me God." Once the path is made, they can step back and put their coronet back on.

Once homage is paid, the Consort would then be crowned if this is a married couple having their coronation. Consorts do not have to take an oath but they are given a coronation ring, a crown and sceptres.

Once everybody has made their oaths and the monarch can barely move under their Robes and regalia, it is time for the monarch to make a procession back through the streets - now a crowned monarch.

When Coronations go Wrong

Like most ceremonies, things can go wrong at coronations. Most coronations go off without a hitch yet there are always downsides to a large, expensive ceremony of an unelected figurehead. Surprisingly.

Coronations are often long affairs. There are numerous historical accounts of peers and guests fainting from the exertion of standing in such heavy Robes. These Robes were not only deadly because of heat exhaustion but also their length. The elderly Lord Rolle actually fell down a flight of steps at Queen Victoria's coronation.

Many past coronations have failed due to poor planning. Nicholas II and his Consort Alexandra's coronation was a very lavish affair however due to terrible planning, a stampede occurred where thousands of Russian people where injured and killed. Despite the tragedy, the Couple did not visit the site or the injured, instead going to the French ambassador's ball on bad advice. History would remember him as Bloody Nicholas, made all the more bloody by the Revolution years after.

George IV, as per usual, caused consternation at his own coronation by constantly walking out from under his canopy which caused the nobles holding it to speed up making it all look rather silly.

Guestlists are often contentious points. It is very important not to jar international relations by snubbing foreign powers. While some of the nobles are invited, it is usually expected that the crown will invite representatives from all nations. If invitations are not issued, it can lead to issues. The Royal family is nearly always invited in its entirety even despite criminal activity (fuck you Andrew) but sometimes snubs are issued. Caroline of Brunswick, the rightful Queen Consort, was actually barred from being crowned by her husband. Its rumoured that her hammering on the door could be heard throughout George IV's coronation. Edward VIII, the King who abdicated over his love for Wallis Simpson, was not invited to either his brother's subsequent coronation or his niece's due to the optics of him being a former king and his rumoured ties to Britain's enemies.

Queen Victoria's coronation got off to a very bad start since the coronation ring had been made too small and then shoved onto the wrong ring. Victoria wrote in her diary that she had to rest her hand in ice for the rest of the day.

Coronations are framed as ceremonies of celebrations and national might and while that may be their intention, they are very often, rightly, subject to criticism. Coronations are widely expensive and very often are a display out outdated or unpopular ideals especially modern coronations. In a post WWI world the time of difference is now over and the media rightly critises such an expensive and outdated ceremony. Many monarchies have hastened to modernise to keep up with the new world, cutting down the budgets and revamping the ceremonies. The Swedish monarchs are no longer crowned but instead invested through an oath and sitting on their famous Silver Throne. However, many feel that coronations are becoming a thing of the past and may not be seen in the future.

#Fantasty guide to a Coronation #Coronations #Writing coronations #Writing royalty #Fantasy Guide #writeblr #writing resources #writing reference #writing advice #ask answered questions #writing advice writing resources #writing reference writing resources #Nobles #Nobility #Writing help #coronets

[alessabriel]

circles in heaven and circles in hell

Cw. Past Lucifer Morningstar x ReaderFem!, blood, inaccurate representations of heaven and hell from Hazbin Hotel, typical canon violence, Alastor is aroace (but he won't totally fit everyone's representation of him) but he is married, Alastor is if it's a warning, ReaderFem Angel superior and a fallen angel after she became sovereign, use of "Lettore" which is Reader (only in Italian because it looks cute)

🪽You were an angel created in the image and likeness of the first woman Lillth but, the divine correction you heard among the elder seraphim, and although you were created in the image and likeness of the first woman you were not placed in the hands of man, of humanity but maintained close to God fulfilling a duty of caring for souls to reach heaven on earth directly, it was an exhausting duty but it made you close to humans, seeing them up close, they were strangely fascinating as well as terrifying. Their creations were magnificent, advances for their survival and then their comfort, they were interesting beings, you loved humans in their ambivalent existence and God loved you for it, you knew how to see the bad and the good, the bad was punished even if it hurt but you didn't. you opposed it. You obeyed and complied, until Lucifer entered your soul, you loved the creations he gave to humanity. You an improved creation of Lilith and the image and likeness of God: Lucifer were divine beings seen as the joy of heaven and the meaning that order and peace went hand in hand, they became friends, confidants and although sometimes they did not You understood, you came to love him, managing to see the good that he brought, but you saw how everyone turned their backs on him, throwing him into hell, which he himself created, calling him a troublemaker. And you loved him to the point of falling with him, of taking off that blindfold that covered your eyes with a soft comfort for you given by the hands of God, of staying by his side when he was sinking.

🪽You had never doubted God's efforts and order, but when you saw that, when you saw the enormous punishment given to Lucifer, doubts began to assail you. Did God love everyone as he said? You began to notice that his love was governed by usefulness, by prompt action, and it was frankly painful because you lived for years comfortably in that scheme, being useful and therefore being loved.

🪽Then you made the worst mistake in the eyes of all of heaven, making Lucifer's gift prosper in humanity and in the souls to come, who would decide and have the freedom to believe or not believe, for which you were thrown into hell by the same hands of who was your father, who created you as the correction of all the evil that resulted in Lilith.

🪽They never called you a mistake, but you thought you saw a slight pain in the eyes of the one who believed you, but you accepted the pain, and the punishment that it all meant, because even if they gave you the opportunity to recognize your mistakes and repent, you would not find anything in yourself to repent For this reason, from among the clouds of heaven you descended, falling into hell, which to your surprise was nothing more than seven rings of sins resulting from the creations of Lucifer, which among all things was the result of each human being being able to make their decisions and not. They dressed so badly, yes they made mistakes and so on, but inside everything they decided themselves knowing the result and lived comfortable lives according to their decisions.

🪽If no one called you a mistake it would be because you would make the worst mistake; feeling love towards Lucifer when his sad heart belonged to another, you believed you could heal and heal the wounds left by Lilith, caring for her and loving him, understanding him, helping him with the hell in chaos that Lilith left behind with a little girl who cried at the carelessness of his two parents.

🪽Everything was a mistake except taking care of Charlie Morningstar, a little sun created in hell and who was charming, her smiles were the right balm on the wounds you never allowed to heal. Charlie was the only success.

🪽The second worst mistake was believing that Lucifer loved you on those nights where he professed his love in desperate prayers, seeking comfort in need. And perhaps whoever believed you was right, love dictated in desperation may contain truth but where is the line drawn between truth and what is said to obtain relief?

🪽Were you stupid? In fact, were you close to falling into that self-destructive pit with him? Unfortunately yes, but you managed to leave with bleeding fingers and the dull pain in your chest caused by the cruel rejection of Lucifer encouraged by Lillth in his moment of glorious return, which you accepted with pain. It was a scar that no longer itched, a mark forgotten long ago when the physical pain was completely overshadowed by the person you believed loved you, because he swore so and whispered it in your ear at night. But, as soon as she returned from the past to continue what she left behind as if it were a book left in the middle, you understood better. Unfortunately you understood it perfectly; you were just a distraction, a mere game until she will return, until Lilith will get tired of being in heaven and will go down back to hell recovering everything she left behind; her husband Lucifer and daughter Charlie (you didn't know it but she was happy to see Lillth but that place as a mother was occupied by the one who accompanied her every night of nightmares, who wiped her tears and motivated her to never give up until she had tried, to be who he was and was you).

🪽And although hell was seen almost as a seedy slum full of sinners and demons seeking to destroy, it was only more than a human city with chaos and no rules due to how Lucifer allowed himself to sink and leaving his kingdom only to have a few years of order (because you took care of it in its worst moments to allow it to heal and it never did) but if hell had taught you anything with its unpredictable changes in climate, crime, strange sinners everywhere and only small extraordinary events happening, was that, resilience was your motto. It was when you fought for Lucifer, when you raised your voice in his name, when you wanted to take his pain and make it yours, when you helped him raise a daughter that he himself neglected, and when he left you after years because Lilith had come from return to his life, as if it had not meant eternal days of suffering that you witnessed and it was painfully ironic, that all of Lucifer's depression was fixed with the return of Lilith. Lilith was his solution to everything.

🪽In retrospect, you were used to suffering so much in heaven in a pleasant and comfortable ignorance since if you were useful and fulfilled you would be eternally loved by the one who created you as in hell where you finally knew the pain of humiliation and a broken heart combined , until you yourself got up from the puddle of tears you had created. Was it difficult? Did it hurt too much? Significantly a lot. Was there resentment in your heart? Since you had to tear off your own wings. The sky was a wound that bled with raw slowness until the last drop was squeezed out and left you with no blood or tears to shed. Hell a scar that regenerated before each extermination, rising as if nothing had happened. Resilience was definitely your motto and you carried it in your soul.

🪽After the time you allowed yourself to suffer and wallow in your self-pity, you managed to see that hell was not all bad as you taught Charlie in the past when she was a child. It had its pros and cons, with that new perspective you forged a reputation and power in hell, consolidating yourself as another sovereign, since, as expected, they were the ones who managed the ring of pride in its entirety in the face of Lucifer's inactivity (now you risk ) and, to your surprise, everyone wanted to rub shoulders with you, your power and past a secret well hidden behind your calm and imperturbable expression, as well as the sinners that were accumulating in your long list of contracts, benefits for both parties, you took care of their interests by getting what you wanted from them, obtain their loyalties without pain. And then, in the newly acquired comfort it happened, it was as if a ray of light other than hell fell on that other sovereign who approached you, you could notice at that time an unprecedented desperation in his body and well hidden behind his eternal smile that I wasn't fooling you at all. You met him; Alastor, the Radio Demon.

|| For Lettore it was common to receive a few sinners a day, he had managed to get into good hands a sector of hell almost at the end of the circle of hell that was neglected and characterized by guerrillas who ceased when their power cleared them of burdens but overwhelmed them with new chains with more slack, which the sinners were grateful for by being loyal and starting the foundations of what would be known as the Impure District, it was a masterful control and born from nothing before the eyes of all hell.

Everyone had crazy ideas.

None close to reality, all nonsense fueled by crazy theories and encouraged by the euphoria of interesting information. But no one but the bound sinners knew, even though they would rather tear out their tongues than speak. Secrets that ensured loyalties forged by the fire of mutual benefit.

Therefore, for Lettore, receiving sinners was common, allowing access from the top of the library of his home; a large house well hidden by a sinuous and sinister forest that extended in some parts of the district as if it were a garden, a deceptive forest. In the brief moment when the last book was slid into place, Lettore felt that he was not a common sinner but a sovereign and therefore he paid attention to it with curiosity.

"To what do I owe your presence in my home this day?" The woman questions, her voice soft and silky, calm.

Alastor, who had come without knowing where else to turn and with the dilemma still fresh in his hands, decided to show a lack of faith (however ironic it was and it was a joke that he would genuinely laugh at) by going to the sovereign who emerged from among the shadows like a dream, a nightmare that was calm but left terror installed.

"I have heard rumors throughout hell since their appearance," the radio demon explained briefly with his characteristic voice covered by the effect of subtle static. "I have wanted to have the pleasure of knowing if they are true or not."

Lettore only looked at him for a few seconds before inviting him to have a cup of tea, with the comfort between them, just a fixed gaze on Alastor was enough, noticing the tension in his being, like ropes from a guillotine about to fall. She suppressed a smile as she was able to get an idea, no sovereign was free from dangers, quite the contrary and she knew that well, it was not for nothing that Alastor had become sovereign by devouring and destroying all the original sovereigns.

"...there are many rumors, I would appreciate it being clearer," the woman commented in a harmonious voice.

And perhaps Alastor was precarious (among so many sins) to be direct, he felt the shackle tied and tight around his neck just before cutting his neck, which was causing him anger, desperation that he could barely keep within his being, he wanted to tear and to be able to swallow such a harpy who had tied him up, challenged him and left him on the verge of losing what he had earned through years of instilling terror and fear, so he would have to let that truth out no matter how much he didn't want to.

"...I've heard from some sinners that you managed to get them out of contracts," the deer demon said bluntly.

The woman only handled herself carefully, without much importance in the face of such loud recognition and above all, she did not react. Lettore knew very well that a secret that was never believed was a well-kept secret, truths denied and rejected were someone else's advantage.

"...Why would you look for someone capable of breaking contracts?" The female questioned with a bewitching voice, almost seductive, just dazzling the ears.

"Because someone managed to tie me up as collateral," the radio demon blurted out, noticing that sweet voice full of secrets behind that condescending edge. "Why not be honest?"

The woman only limited herself to leaving her cup on the delicate and elegant black porcelain plate, on the low table of a pleasant room filled with a sweet aroma.

"...if I undo the deal, you will now be tied to me, equivalence" he explained in an assertive voice and without hesitation "I need to know what was in the contract, so I can break it and forge a deal with me, but my deals are eternal until let me decide"

For the radio demon it was as if an enormous weight was lifted from his shoulders, the mere idea of ​​being able to remove that contract from his soul with that similar harpy who had only ambushed him, forcing him into a deal that he never sought or asked for. . Alastor sighed, recovering his eternal smile as if he had control of the entire situation, things that, although not so true, were in part.

"It's a long story dear"

"...hell is eternal and its nights seem endless" ||

🪽It only took one night to know his biggest secret, he was tied to Lilith out of obligation, he had never accepted and was manipulated beyond his understanding, and you could taste his frustration in the air, but, his contract came to an end because of you. hand and that contract was transferred to your long list, only fulfilling part of what was stipulated in the past; Make sure you keep a close eye on the Hazbin Hotel.

🪽From that night Alastor became close to you, both of you found a quiet place in each other's company; Alastor, with his voice always covered in subtle static, became the everyday hum in your ears and without knowing your voice, always soft, became what Alastor always wanted to hear.

🪽With time together and creating a daily life, it was as if you found something that you had been missing for a while. You knew his life and he knew yours, you lost count of how many nights you spent enchanted by everything he experienced as a human, how many outings to have a drink together and mornings waking up under the same roof. Broadcasts on the air dedicated to you, even if no one else knew and only you knew that, a sweet secret that made you feel euphoric. Gifts and details found around the house, from a single red rose to sweets placed in areas where you would see them clearly. They created together a domestic comfort that surpassed any sensation and feeling, it was as if you had found your soulmate, which complemented you. Alastor always took you out of your comfort zone, made you try things you would never have thought of and live, you felt like you were living next to him. It was a completely new feeling.

📻 For Alastor, it was an invigorating and novel sensation that did not leave his being complete, each transmission he broadcast with Lettore in mind he enjoyed much more almost with the same feeling of purpose and fascination as when he was human, in each night spent in his home or that of her new companion telling her all her experiences as a human, seeing how her eyes shone in a singular way like a moon in the sky overshadowing any star around her, meals shared together even with her peculiar tastes (deer or human meat) she just smiled in an exasperated but amused way with that soft pout that she never noticed he made and he felt a strange sensation of fullness, filling him even with society. It was a sensation and feeling of being complete, of having found his complement and those strange nights that he invited her to his cabin where only once he transmitted with her there and managed to hear her sweet song, a song worthy of a seraph like her since she knew her entire history, her past and present, the pain she carried in her chest that she let go of to start living, she knew of her love for Charlie even when Lucifer made her suffer and feel like a used toy. Frankly, she was surprised when she felt a forceful and overwhelming anger take him into the jaws of a beast, because of that pain in her, but what prevailed in her being was to give her words of encouragement: "You are not to blame for anything, there are people who will not value a good heart in this hell" and a hug that took him by complete surprise because he started it because he hated being touched but the moment he felt her hands on his back, clinging to him, it was like a warmth that, far from being overwhelming It was like a breath of fresh air.

📻 Alastor was tied to Lettore but being tied to her didn't cause him major weakness or anything, just a light protection and the feeling that (even if it was twisted) he was always a humming distance away (because he's already heard her crystalline laugh and which bells when he made him appear at his home out of nowhere and it made him laugh just remembering it) so taking care of Charlie in his hotel was like a thank you to Lettore, and he always carried that gold watch in his pocket, a gift that meant like a small world; As a human, he had never found that watch no matter how much he searched and Lettore gave it to him, it was the first gift that almost moved him to the point of removing the moisture from his eyes, but he did not shed any tears (although honestly he was close to nothing).

🪽Alastor's presence in your life was everyday and you came to feel a silence foreign to hell. And the memory of Alastor's reddish doe ears when you gave him the gift that it took you a while to obtain would never be forgotten.

📻 Alastor had racked his brain thinking about a suitable gift to match the one Lettore gave him but, it was in front of him the entire time he was at the Hazbin Hotel so, one day when Charlie would have guests he would also bring someone (he didn't say who) who would support the idea of ​​the hotel. So bringing Lettore to the Hotel, on his arm the moment they set foot inside Charlie ran towards his companion and it was a sweet feeling. Which became even more exquisite seeing the veiled anger in Lillth and Lucifer's gaze.

|| Lettore couldn't help but wrap his arms around Charlie, feeling how he squeezed you tightly and with the feeling on the surface, you kissed his forehead.

"Charlie," Lettore said in a harmonious and soft voice, seeing Charlie's crystallized gaze, "I'm proud of you."

For Charlie, hearing those words coming from the lips of the one who took care of her little girl, of the one who remembered her tears cleanly and accompanied her in every important moment until he left her with a painful but bittersweet farewell with a promise to always take care of her and to be together again. . He couldn't help but hug her tightly.

"Mom," Charlie stammered, still clinging to Lettore, feeling like she was treasured in the arms of someone who would never doubt loved her. "Thank you for coming to the hotel. I want to show you everything!"

Charlie excitedly took Lettore by the hand, talking non-stop about her project with Alastor accompanying them from behind, passing by Lillth and Lucifer, not intentional. ||

📻 🪽

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x reader fem #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #alessabriel ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ #alessabriel writting #writings alessabriel

[quecksilvereyes]

oh, sister, I am sorry. your eyes are sunken and your skin is bruised. your lips are chapped, your nailbeds bitten raw. your husband's hand on your waist is a ghost's touch held by the band on your left ring finger and I-

I am dead.

I got on the train, Su. Nevermind your tears, nevermind the plea you could not shape with words, nevermind your fingers on the pulse point of my wrist. "stay", you'd said, as you have always done, dictionary in hand and baby teeth yet lodged in your jaw. "don't go where i cannot."

I step through a wardrobe and you follow, damned be reason. I slay a wolf and you follow, I cling to the little ones and you follow, I am crowned and you follow, I am-

I go past a lamp post, and you follow, damned be dread. I go to a train station and you follow, trembling hands and tender heart. I go, and I go, and I go, and you follow. Sun of my skies. Light of my life.

I go. you stop.

are we too old for stories, now? ten-and-four and ten-and-three, budding bodies and steel bones, we are cast from our home. i hold the little ones until i drown in them. you grip your skirts until no iron can press the shape of your palms from them. and you have ever been, cruelly reasonable and logically callous.

say you, glass shard eyes and rouge-red lips: we are english. we are children. she thinks she has found a magical land in the upstairs wardrobe.

say I, trembling hands and coiling guts: we are narnian. we are monarchs. if she's not mad and she's not lying, then logically she must be telling the truth.

my sister Susan, beautiful as folk tales are and twice as sharp, did you intend every invitation you took for me to twist the knife a godly animal once thrust into my guts? perhaps it was the way your eyes turned blue, or the sound of your laughter losing its bells. perhaps it was just my trembling fingers at the back of your legs, drawing stocking lines where no stockings had ever lain.

the line came out shaking, and you rubbed it off until your skin cried red. the hem of your dress still dripped wet when you left that day, turning on heels too narrow for you to walk in.

do you remember? it took you days to come home, and mother wailed for all of them. you crawled into my bed that night, as you did when we were parents to our little ones, those terrible months. your head on my shoulder, your breath in my ear, I held you until morning.

your mouth in my throat, eyes heavy with sleep, tongue heavy with champagne: we are here now. we must make the best of it. he cannot have all our lives, and all our joys. i wish you would laugh again.

doesn't little lucy, shrieking mouth and tumbling legs, laugh enough for us all?

lucy's manic. if she didn't laugh she'd cry.

i think sometimes, in the parts of my guts that are still a schoolboy, and are mean and cruel to match, that the alcohol makes you softer than the daylight ever could. i do not tell you.

i press my lips to your forehead. i wrap my arms around you. the year between us rings heavy, and when I get up in the morning, you do not follow.

I tried, Su. I did. I applied for university, I saw that girl with that smile. with those eyes. I let you take sections from the paper before I ever touched it, I held the little ones in my arms, and I made coffee in the morning. I sat all my exams.

I smiled when the little ones came back smelling of home.

Aslan's wounds, did I try. but-

I have ever been a thing made for stories. brave the way knights are, bloody knuckles and buckling pride. a horse between my calves, a sword in my hands.

I think, sometimes, that I was born for my sword, for the hollow ringing of my heart when I first held it. a part of me, even then, ten-and-three and soaked to the bone.

such bravery is not made for real world boys and real world taunts. there is a map, I think, from the summits of my knuckles to the jaws of every boy who ever looked at me and bared his teeth.

I am sovereign. I am the skies for your sun to burn in.

I am made wrong, for this england, and I cannot take this life you want. I belong, I think, into myths and legend, the star-studded shards of our home.

so I went on the train, Susan. so I died, and I named what you have chosen. so I banned you from their scorning mouths. so you grip your husband's hand, realest of us all, and you cry. you do not follow.

Forgive me.

#tcon #narnia #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #sibling relationships #in which peter is a story of a man more than he is a boy #in which susan is a girl more than she is a story of a queen #on diverging paths #on following #and staying #death tw #the last battle #alcohol abuse #brief implications of lucy having manic episodes #hello #i have brainworms #it is 3am #susan is real in a way peter isnt #he is a story and she is a person #the chronicles of narnia #narnia fanfic #narnia fanfiction

[bits-and-babs]

𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 — 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋

summary: With the Great Hall empty, you take an opportunity to gaze upon the Iron Throne without its ruler. You can't help but wonder what kind of monarch Oberyn would make. The King is dead, long live The King.

pairing: Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: 3k

content: 18+ MDNI. SPOILERS FOR GOT, (In order) Reference to death and vague mentions of gore, celebration of said death (Nasty character go bye bye), fingering, PIV sex. This is a @beskarbabs remaster — original post date 2021.

➛ oberyn masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

Summer sunshine bathes the throne room in a golden glow yet does nothing to dispel the cold, unnerving energy that reverberates inside the stone walls. Red refractions from the stained glass sun at the window at the head of the room leak across the floor. You can’t help but consider the stone flags are often streaked with that colour. That those who have paced the stone flags, their footsteps ringing out in the Great Hall, have given the order to paint the Seven Kingdoms that same crimson shade. 

Standing before the steps, you consider the Iron Throne seated upon them, its bleak colours contrasting the warm hues in which the sunlight drowns the room. The Throne surprisingly does not live up to your expectations. You had heard so many stories, forged of a thousand surrendered swords at the conquest of Aegon The Conqueror. Now it stands before you; you can hazard a guess that there are less than two hundred. 

Its symbolism is not lost on you. It had seated some of the evilest men, who had brought terror and despair across the Seven Kingdoms and its people. When you had arrived at King’s Landing and entered the Red Keep before the wedding, you had expected to see arguably the worst of them all, King Joffrey, stare back at you.

Now it was empty.

The crimson that daubs the floor in splotches reminds you of the events just hours before. Reminds you of the lifeblood that leaked from the young king’s nose and slipped down his pale, blotched cheeks, dripping into the golden collar of his robes at his neck. Reminds you of the bloodshot colour of the whites of his blue eyes and the way they seemed to almost threaten to bulge out of his sockets. A gruesome death for a gruesome king. 

You hoped that his mother’s screams, ex-queen regent Cercei Lannister, mirrored those of the countless he had killed in these halls so brutally. Hoped it would bring those dead some peace. That it please the Old Gods and the New so that the kingdom could find peace and crown a more considerate, less destructive sovereign. 

The Great Hall was quiet. With no king to keep the Iron Throne warm, there was no requirement for anyone to be here. With this knowledge, you slowly make your way up the steps, the sound of your soles scuffing the stone floor ringing out in the vacant room. This close, you could regard the details. The ridges of the sword handles catch your eye, and the hilts of the weapons all ensigned with symbols that represented their owners long gone. While it didn’t meet your expectations, it was undoubtedly a throne for a king. 

You cast your eyes over the armrests, reaching out to touch them. They seemed so uncomforta-

“It’s underwhelming, is it not?” 

You snatch your hand back from the Throne with a gasp, like it had scalded you, eyes wide as your head whips around to look at the source of the sound. 

Oberyn smirks, standing in the centre of the large floor before you. His warm energy radiates despite the distance between you, and the golden robes he wears provide some much-needed colour to your bleak, almost desolate surroundings. You had asked him to wear those patterns for the ceremony, confessing they reminded you of the sun-kissed beaches of home. Oberyn agreed, delighted to represent Dorne this way. 

“You startled me, my prince!” You exclaim, pressing your palm to your chest in an effort to steady yourself. Your Viper had always been stealthy. 

“Apologies, My Sun, but you were so lost in thought that I fear I would have startled you regardless,” he muses, slowly crossing the floor. He looks so at ease in these four walls, sauntering as though he owns them. In honesty, this is how Oberyn always acts, but he is expected to uphold respect in the Red Keep and appear humble. He certainly didn’t seem to care much for that expectation now. 

Despite this, he regards you with a whisper of concern. 

“Are you well? What you saw back there… It wasn’t pleasant,” he treads carefully, uncertain how you had handled the events of the wedding, given he had sent you away from the gruesome scene. But, much to your surprise, the only thing that you happened to find grim were Cercei’s pitiful cries of “take him!” You swore they still rang in your ears like the screams of squealing pigs. 

“Just fine, my prince,” you promise him, dropping your hand to your side. You were fine, honestly. While you weren’t often exposed to atrocities in Dorne, you had certainly seen your fair share of them. Choking to death paled in comparison. 

Finally, he steps upwards, making his way slowly up the levels to stand before you. You’re taller than him on the top step, so he cranes his neck to look into your eyes. There is a glimmer in the blackness of his pupils - vindication. 

“And so the boy dies,” he says, voice quiet as he reaches for your waist. He slowly brushes his palm up the curve of your waist. 

“He was a Baratheon, Oberyn,” you remind him, watching how his eyes trace the neckline of your dress. A knowing smirk flickers across Oberyn’s usually measured expression. He knows something you don’t. 

“So they say,” he appears to pick his words carefully, despite your isolation. The walls of the Red Keep have ears, and unsavoury words often come back to haunt the utterer. “I fear his pedigree has come into question.”

A frown pulls at your eyebrows, searching Oberyn’s guileful countenance for an answer to your unspoken query of ‘why?’

“You saw how that wretched boy acted. Are you to tell me he isn’t a Lannister?” He questions you, holding your gaze. His usually warm brown eyes have that very same intense look he aimed at Cercei and Tywin at the dinner. Abhorrence. How were you to deny what he saw, what you saw? Joffrey was a monster, the kind of cruelty he dealt only shared with one family- lion’s jaws would easily maul a stag. Regardless of whose blood had pumped his heart, he deserved every moment he suffered. 

“Well,” you sigh softly, agreeing with your lover, “I suppose if the shoe were to fit….” 

“It does,” he speaks, dismissing any question of the legitimacy of his opinion, “This is a triumph.” You nod firmly, the two of you acquiescing unanimously to this fact. It was of no consequence who Joffrey truly was. The most imperative truth was that his death had devastated the Lannister family, precisely what Oberyn had set out to do. While he couldn’t claim responsibility, it certainly didn’t diminish his appreciation in seeing the panic amongst the blonde-headed savages - the infighting. 

Oberyn’s hand creeps from your waist and down the small of your back, taking hold of your ass and gently squeezing it. His eyes are hooded as you look down at him, iris’ hidden as he gazes down the neckline of your dress. 

“This could be your chance to become king,” you muse, smiling playfully as his eyes snap up to your face, disgust evident if only briefly. 

“Live here in King’s Landing? As sovereign? I would rather be abstinent,” he muses with his own knowing smirk, “not even your bewitching looks could implore me to rule the Seven Kingdoms.” 

You huff, acting disappointed as you cross your arms across your chest in apparent dismay. Oberyn simply arches an eyebrow, the edges of his lips lifting up in intrigue at your little display of audaciousness.

“What is it, My Sun?” He asks you, clearly amused. You purse your lips slightly, playing coy as you reach for the collar of his golden robes and brush your fingertips over the silk, moving them down slowly until you hook them into the leather belt that sits loosely on his waist. You tug harshly, catching him off-guard and forcing him to move up onto the top step beside you. 

“Oberyn, play the game with me. We’re celebrating, remember?” You whisper, looking deep into his eyes. They always reminded you of the bark of the blood orange trees that grew in the orchards in Dorne, the wood a deep brown colour that lightened with flecks of gold in the light. His tan reminds you of the sunshine, his sigil, the very name he affectionately calls you. Everything about him reminds you of home. 

He regards you for a moment, knowing exactly what you want. You want him to imagine what it would be like if he was king- just for a moment. 

“Anything for you,” he murmurs, allowing you this happiness. You grin, launching into questions as you smooth your hands down his chest again, ignoring how his voice dips an octave.  

“What would you wear, My King?” You ask, smiling wide as he places his large hands on your hips. His palms practically eclipse you, which always makes you feel safe, even in King’s Landing. 

“I would wear golden silk,” he muses, turning you ever so slowly until he stands between you and the Iron Throne, his back to it. You watch him for a moment, the deviant look in his eyes, “I would wear velvet, and I would ensure you were to dress just as remarkably.” 

You allow yourself to imagine that for the two of you, always matching to ensure everyone knew you both belonged to each other. 

“And what would you eat?” You ask him, finding yourself lost for words just seconds later when Oberyn takes the initiative to sit himself upon the Iron Throne. He sits back, legs spread wide, looking up at you. Your blood runs cold, and you glance around quickly for a King’s Guard. There’s still no one around. 

“What would I eat?” He repeats your question, smirking as he retakes hold of your hips, “I would order that all the best foods of Dorne be delivered periodically, blood orange, pomegranates.” His palms work their way behind you as he talks, resting on your ass and pulling you forward. 

“Oberyn-” 

“We’d gorge upon the finest venison, the boar from the woods and wash it down with our wine,” he continues, pulling you forward until you were forced to straddle his lap, bracing yourself with your hand against the ‘head’ of the Throne, “We would want for nothing, the finest food always available to me upon my request….” 

Oberyn’s hands pull your hips down gently, rolling your hips against his. He’s stiff in his tight brown pants, his body disclosing his need for you. 

“And I would eat you,” he ponders cheekily, a smirk crossing his lips as he sees your surprise at his readiness to take you here, in the Grand Hall, upon the Iron Throne. You have barely a moment to snap out of your shocked stupor before he’s working at shucking your skirts upwards, fingertips grazing the inside of your thighs. 

Heat sparks up your spine at the realisation- he actually wants to do this. He wants to fuck you now, here. You spring into action almost immediately, working hastily on the belt that encompasses his waist. 

“As for activities, we would have magnificent feasts, drinking the night away. We’d fuck-” he punctuates with a spank to the bare skin of your inner thigh, causing you to gasp, “into the early mornings, with as many whores as you desire….” He trails off with a smirk as you slip the belt open and pull open his eggshell-coloured long coat, adorned with golden patterning to expose his bare chest under his low-cut tunic. 

As you work on the ties of his pants, fingers trembling with anticipation, he slips a finger into your exposed core, causing your back to arch into his touch. Your jaw slackens, the sensation electrified when accompanied by the possibility that anyone could just walk in. The two of you could be put to death for this, as it certainly constituted a charge of treason. 

“So wet for me, My Sun. Does the prospect of fucking me here excite you?” He teases unrelentingly, gazing at the needy expression on your face. You can feel him search for that spot inside you, the one he knows will have you positively dripping with anticipation. 

“I-I’m the one asking questions,” you say, wanting to sound assured and confident, but you find yourself rushing the words so as to not get cut off by a moan. It made you sound ingenuine. Your lover just smirks knowingly, slowly working in a second finger. You’re already so aroused that it doesn’t take much effort. 

“You are?” He murmurs, watching the way you keen for his touch, feeling your hips rock forward in search of contact with that sweet spot inside of you. If Oberyn put his mind to it, he could make you cum in seconds, but he liked to draw it out. Wants to torture you with pleasure. “Ask away.”

You let out a soft moan as his knuckle brushed your clit, fingers buried deep inside your cunt. Drunk on the building pleasure between your thighs, you allow yourself to consider for a moment what kind of king Oberyn would be. With a broken train of thought, as he focused on building your arousal, you find a half-answer of ‘compassionate and just’. 

“How would you wish for your crown to look?” You finally find the strength to ask of him. You work him out of his pants slowly, easing his cock out and brushing the swollen head with your thumb. Even through your lustful haze, you could imagine all kinds of styles he would wear, but always gold. 

Oberyn, though still moving his fingers, seemed to pause to contemplate this. His eyes searched your face, almost as though looking for inspiration. The silence of the Great Hall is cut only by your laboured breathing, the soft sounds of the fabric of your clothes rustling, and the wet sound of Oberyn pleasuring you.

The quiet is almost too much, and you find yourself growing anxious. Only as you turn your head over your shoulder to check for people does the Prince of Dorne take your chin in his free hand, forcing you to look back at him. He always did ask for your undivided attention.

“I ask they do not place a crown on my head,” he finally drawls in that pretty accent you had come to adore, removing his fingers from you and taking hold of the curve of your ass to lift your hips upwards and align you with him, “Just you on my cock.”

Before the words can settle into your bones, he’s sinking himself into you, using his hold on you to bring you down slowly. You both exhale shakily, the sound teetering on a moan and a whine as he stretches you out around him. He grits his teeth together, the muscles holding his jaw pulled tight as your warmth and tightness overwhelm him. 

You begin to circle your hips, grinding them against him as he leans back into the Throne, gliding his hands from your knees and up your thighs, smirking at the obscenely wet sounds that come from where he fills you. 

“Lift your skirts,” he murmurs, gazing up at you with hooded eyes. They are practically black, the pupils having swallowed the brown of his iris’ with need, “I want to watch myself fuck you, My Sun.” You whine softly, not in complaint but in contentment, as you bunch your skirts around your waist higher, exposing the sight to your lover. 

Oberyn doesn’t allow you to put in all the work, grinding his hips upwards to meet yours each time you sink onto his cock. Your head lolls back, enjoying the trail of tingling skin he leaves as his hands brush over the skin of your waist under your dress. You always claimed that Oberyn had sunshine in his fingertips, his touch leaving a trail of warmth as it brushed your skin. You can feel it now, the gentle heat that swirls under your skin as he drags his hand over your abdomen. 

And Oberyn just gazes up at you, dragging his eyes over every inch of you. He loves how your eyes roll back into your skull as he rolls his hips and hits something deep inside you that makes your toes curl. He feels the way the muscles in your thighs twitch at the sensation, and that’s how he knows he’s found it. 

“Right there?” He murmurs, voice so low and smoky that it creeps down your spine and settles deep inside your cunt. You can’t manage words, your voice stolen by the throbbing in your clit, so you just nod in agreement. 

Typically, he would begin to thrust harder, chase his high. But half of the reason this feels so good is the anticipation of being caught. He wants to drag it out as long as possible, so he uses the grip on your hips to slowly rock them back and forth on his cock, ensuring that each time he pushes into that spot inside you. 

You’re clamping down on him, wailing quietly as he teases you. Oberyn was brutal, never settling for anything other than blinding pleasure. But this is almost acute, so strong that you could cry- you do, tears welling in your eyes as he circles your hips slowly, his tongue brushing his lower lip as he watches his dick slide in and out of you. 

The sopping sounds of Oberyn’s cock continually slipping in and out of you ricochets off the ancient stone walls of the Red Keep. Your whines of bliss appear to spur him on, lighting something ablaze in him that had sparked with King Joffrey’s last breath. He’s almost delirious when he speaks but utterly sincere.

“I want you to conceive a child - here on the Iron Throne. I want you full of my seed, knowing he was born for the Throne itself.”

join the taglist here:

@xwing-baby , @mybugboy , @pansa-1-san , @pedrosprincess , @cosm1c-babe , @stardu5stbunny, @lil-stark , @heart-atttack @crybaby-blue-blog, @wingedgothapricot, @ssimelttilgniht @2pacacabra @pauldanosgf @leithatnight @hairyballs-101 @kirsteng42 @dindjarinsmut @s0ftgabby @milly-louise @aynsleywalker @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @uncassettodiricordi

#oberyn nymeros martell #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x y/n #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell fic #oberyn martell imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones smut #game of thrones fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fics #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader