Kingdom Come [Claiming]

[Deleted]

His plan was coming together nicely; like the birth of a forest, he stood as the first lone monolith to bring life to the soil at his feet – soil rendered filthy by the sinning world that rested upon it. His divine roots sunk deep and impenetrably into the ground, and as his ambitions for Kairos ascended, so too did that forest, rising high from the filth that it breached, and spreading their purity far. He was the lone patriarch of this forestry that dwelled in his mind, and though its birth was still fresh and untouched, it was an unstoppable force, unhindered by even the walls of the ocean that encircled their island home.

Goliath rose from the calm waters, his breathing harsh and quick as his exertion caught up to him. The swim from Ina’mos to Vor’asa had been insufferably arduous, dusk to dawn of ceaseless swimming, but his toil had been worth the effort, for the sight that rewarded him was a grand one. Vor’asa was as he had imagined, perhaps even greater – the land was an endless expanse of clarity and blue sky, and though it was dry, it was by no means a desert. It hardly compared to that godforsaken and dreary wasteland that covered the southern end of Anikira. The land of Vor’asa was bountiful and lush, the winds temperate and the heat modest. Plants and oases thrived amidst the whitened dunes, no doubt harbouring plentiful wildlife to sustain their pack. Unlike the dry abyss within the Occasus, which had exuded nothing but dismay and death, the Aisu dunes exuded life and abundance.

Visions of warriors brawling gloriously filled his mind, this sacred sand their battleground to test their fealty to Kairos and hone their righteousness as its brutal, blessed guardians. Hunters would test their merit with the hardy creatures that roamed this ruthless wilderness, each kill refining the claws already sharpened to purpose by their divine leader. Ina’mos would be the lavish haven of Kairos, a safe paradise to rear their future kin, but Vor’asa… Vor’asa existed to trial the bravest, confronting them with an uninhibited arena that would groom and forge them into beasts worthy of their pack’s name.

A howl rose over this untouched land, born from the very beating in his breastbone; solemn and steady, at first, but soon it ascended in terrifying power – a supremacy unheard of on Tas’alea. The voice beckoned forth the worthy, for in its divinity it was unmatched. It was a sound of pure, unrelenting conquest, and even after the seemingly infinite breath perished in the alpha’s throat, the call rang out eternally. His claim was final – this land was his.

TAGGED: @datura

[Deleted]

The resounding call greeted her senses like a hymn, echoing through the sloping dunes as he beckoned the faithful to him. Instantly, she stopped dead in her tracks, dainty paws stilled mid-step to listen. A pair of russet ears flicked forward, savoring the ominous timbre of his howl as it reached its powerful crescendo. Datura knew it could only be one wolf, the same one she had been searching for. Even from a distance, he was a commanding force, drowning out the sound of the tide as it pummeled the beach. An ominous silence settled in around her as his voice evaporated from the salty ocean air. No other brute roaming Anikira could emulate her alpha. He was not called Goliath because of a timid disposition. She had yet to witness any semblance of weakness from the massive beast.

Ebony nostrils flared, exploring the breeze, but the smell of wet sand and the sea smothered any hint of the direction Datura should go. The same ocean breeze rustled the trees of Ina’mos, a welcome presence during the hottest part of the day. The weather was turning swiftly though, she could feel it in the air as she began to trot away from the beach, and fall would soon submit to the inevitable winter months. The fae was so light, she did not even stir the fine sand beneath her, leaving only tiny paw prints in her wake while she traversed the dunes. Each step, every movement Datura made was intentional. Her careful gait and placid expression seemed not to fit her tempestuous personality – an innocent appearance was an invaluable weapon.

Vor’asa had proven its value to Datura, providing new blood to strengthen their ranks. Each new recruit brought the promise of an unstoppable future for her pack. The fluidity of her deception was masterful. Her lies seemed to come easier than the truth ever had. She did it all for him – and she did it for herself. The typical wolf could expect little from their miserable, meaningless lives. The memory of those who died would soon fade away after a generation or two. Countless numbers of their species had come and left, the young and the old, squandering lives in the endless toil to survival. Most were destined to live a sad, insignificant existence. Datura was not like most wolves.

Datura, being the pragmatic wolfess she had grown up to become, was not going to allow her life to be so meaningless, even if meant destroying others along the way. Some unavoidable sacrifices were to be expected. She would fight to make sure those sacrifices would not be her own. Her focus remained on the present instead of her messy past, with each of her senses in a persistent state of heightened awareness. The female’s hyper-vigilance had brought her this far, relatively unscathed.

A surge of adrenaline shot through her core like a lightning bolt, stepping with renewed vigor as he came into sight in the distance – a monument built from sinew and bone, imposing even from afar. He seemed to grow before her with every step she took in his direction, and the auburn-licked female was quiet as a grave when she approached, head bowing and ears placed back neatly against her skull. Her tail wagged behind her slowly. Being close to her alpha made the fae feel feverish despite the cold autumn breeze, agitated and restless – strange sensations Datura was not accustomed to and could not name, that she no longer attempted to deny or hide. It excited the female to be in his presence, reeling her back in.

His scent filled her senses when she was finally close enough to Goliath, intoxicating after their time spent apart. Her smallness, so easily ignored when she was around others, seemed exaggerated when he was there. She was a speck of sand and he was a mountain. Her purposeful gait stopped only when she was before him, and she pressed her muzzle against his in silent, submissive greeting to him – her alpha. It was not her place to speak first, so her sharp tongue was silenced.

words: 686
tag: @zenith

[Deleted]

The silence that followed his call was deafening, the very wind from the sea subdued by his merciless occupation. His place in the world felt right, standing upon this new and untainted land, fresh to be engraved as a warrior’s Valhalla. His disciples would come – strangers with a greater purpose than to simply exist would hear of his name, of his monumental reign, and be beckoned to join him in greatness. His plan was so relentless and pure that it may as well have existed in nature’s design from the very beginning, for even now, this territory seemed all the more at peace with its rightful ruler upon its shores.

A vague shape appeared in the distance, its beige coat blending seamlessly with the mottled sand that cloaked their miniscule form. Without needing the creature’s scent, Goliath knew who this would be, for her loyalty to his cause was an identification all on it’s own. Closer she came, submission exuded by the timidity of her approach, and Goliath could not help but flare his nostrils and release a heated gale of air in edginess. For too long they had been separated, and the impatience in his primal glare was profoundly obvious, even from the vast distance that estranged them. His lips pulled back, faintly showing a glimmer of teeth as his eagerness overcame his fortitude, and when she was close enough to see the whites of his eyes glint with animalistic fervour, he stepped forward to meet her offered maw with his own.

Tenderness did not consume him as it did her, the reverence in her coy touch igniting something far more primal in him. In the heat of their reunion, a steady rumble awoke from the cavern of his chest, which propagated into an appeased growl that would have warded off anyone else – but not her. Not his Datura. His touch was rough and tenacious as he curled his robust neck over hers, his affection borne not from blissful composure, but a boiling and irrepressible need to secure her underneath him. To have her frail body pinned at his mercy, so that he might guard and have reign over her until the day that one of them perished. He seized her in an embrace akin to a snake coiling its prey in innumerable spirals of possession, and it was an embrace that he would not slacken – now, or ever.

The dainty female seemed to bow to his authority out of wilful acceptance now, and though in the conception of their relationship she had resisted him, whether out of fear or out of resentment, he did not care – that resistance no longer existed within her, and that was all that mattered. Like a faithful subject prostrated before her god, she acknowledged him as the almighty, as many others would do in her stead, and her veneration filled him with purpose and passion. She was so close to being entirely his, but the time for that was not now. He could wait - if patience could exist in him for one thing, and one thing alone, it would be for her to be ready to accept his divine spore, and birth kernels of his greatness to the world.

“I gave no consent for you to leave Ina’mos,” he growled lowly, the breath of his punishing voice fussing her silken fur like a menacing wind. “Why are you here?”

There was no apparent softening in his voice, but inside, his anger was brief and fleetingly replaced by curiosity. He knew Datura well enough to know that she would not have simply left, if not to pursue some underhanded scheme or sly conspiracy to advance herself. A grim smirk emerged on his face, toying with the delightful notion that his own nature, in its blend of shrewdness and impulsivity, was imparting into hers.

TAGGED: @datura

[Deleted]

Datura did not expect a warm greeting or affection from her alpha. She was not surprised by the thunder rumbling deep within his barreled chest, and the tiny fae could feel the vibration of his growl against her cheek. Learning to please the giant had taken a few months. Now it seemed to come naturally, a flirtatious impulse she could feign for the others, but with Goliath, it was not so. Naturally, she had never voiced whatever feelings ruminated within her aloud. She expressed it instead in her obedience, making no attempt to shrink away from the dominant brute’s touch.

Despite the obvious and absurd size difference between the pair, the auburn-licked female was not scared of him in the unusual way. The little femme was not intimidated by his size as she had been during their first few weeks together. There was something far more enticing in his assertion, his unyielding dominance of the land and the living, than in any so-called romantic gesture. His weight against her body took the girl’s breath away.

Twin eyelids flittered shut as his voice tore through the quiet – his words were not loud, but they did not need to be. She could feel the energy between them, tense, powerful. She had longed for it during his absence, and indeed, she had missed him, but she would not say so. Instead, she remained passive, making no attempt to escape his touch. ”I have searched these lands for the worthy.” She restrained the smug look from spreading across her muzzle, offering only the hint of a clandestine smile to her master as she moved away, barely, to gauge his reaction to her duties. ”I have been gathering followers. Your name is no longer a secret to the outside world.” Like sheep to the slaughter, they came to Ina'mos. There was a deluge of rumors seeping through the main island now, Datura suspected. Word of Goliath’s notoriety and the rise of Kairos would soon spread from loner to pack, to the alphas of each.

How badly Datura wished to see it for herself – the inevitable conquests and battles, the future victories of Kairos. She could envision her Goliath covered in lupine blood, claiming the spoils of war, and she could imagine the fear he would inspire. She could never dream to be a warrior, but the intensity and gore that accompanied violence had never made the fae squeamish. The thought sent a quiver through her body. Instinct urged her closer to the massive wolf, and the mottled female leaned closer to Goliath again, resting her face against his chest. She could hear the rhythmic rising and falling with each breath he took, the strong thump of his heart beneath his ribcage.

She lived for this – for him. Any existence without his influence now seemed worthless. Datura had been down to the bottom before. Never again.

words: 480
tag: @zenith
ooc: a bit shorter than my usual,
but fun to write! <3

[Deleted]

I have searched these lands for the worthy.

His grasp over her body loosened when she spoke, her voice rendered thin and airy from his tightening grip. The possessiveness was unintentional, but not in the least a thing that he attempted to quell; she was his, and neither one of them would deny that fact. His to hold, to caress, and his to suffocate, if he chose it - and if loving her meant bruising the delicate rind that held her together, then he would leave his mark upon her again and again. Fenrir had gifted her to him, one god to another, and his right over her body was as undisputable as the sun’s existence in the sky.

I have been gathering followers. Your name is no longer a secret to the outside world.

Her claim brought a dry smile to his lips, shadowed by her fur as his wide maw traced along her neck, testing how little she flinched from his touch. He relished at the imploring sound of her voice, enunciating her veneration with wanton need to find her lord's approval. “Our name,” he corrected her with a darkening charm in his voice, “was never a secret, dear one. Kairos has always existed in some way, in the nightmares of the weak and the dreams of the strong.” His tone was absolute in its stance, his pride a monolith standing at the forefront of every syllable that dropped from his teeth – but alongside that towering monolith was a softening ray that revealed a glimmer of his warmth towards the female resting against him. Hiding his affection from her was a fool’s errand, when their bond would soon bring unfathomed glory to his pack. She would have his pups, by choice or not, and bring a new generation of power to fruition. That day could not come soon enough. Eagerness cursed his blood like a sacred bolt, and the thrill shot his hackles towards the sky; however, his jaws remained clenched in forced composure. His patience, feeble as it was to begin with, hung by the thread of the fates... and Atropos stood in waiting with her shears on the trembling string.

“But your contribution will not be forgotten, and your efforts will be rewarded. Soon,” his timbre dropped at the perverse offer, though his pale eyes were severe and lit with primal intention. Her scent was crude and enticing, enough to wet his tongue, but she was not yet at the peak of her heat.
“Until then, return home. If you are to be the conduit of something so much greater, to bear the divine, then you must conceive on Ina’mos.”

The restraint it took for him to push her away was a torment of the genitalia more than the heart, but the loss of contact still weighed heavily in both of the thrumming organs. “I will find you,” he bid her a foreboding promise; his tone was hushed in quiet warning, sounding closer to a threat than a farewell. Whether Datura read it as either one was his darling's prerogative.

TAGGED: @datura

[Deleted]

She breathed him in, hungrily sucked down the warm air that departed his lungs for her own. The potency of his sheer weight against her fragile frame was a landslide; Datura was still impressed by his enormity. Any wolf that failed to recognize his might would learn soon enough why he was called Goliath and why so many of their kind sought to join his ranks. The petite femme could feel his vigor in every breath he exhaled, the warm air rustling the ebony fur along her withers. She felt the hypnotic, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest – Divinity given shape, unleashed upon the tedious lands of Anikira and its inferior inhabitants. He was the only god she would ever follow, a savior she could feel... and she wanted to feel him, even if his control threatened to devour her whole. Datura was a zealot for her alpha, until the breath left her body and her blood turned cold in her veins. No other creature left her burned with desire for something intangible and all consuming.

I am blessed. Datura smiled a private smile for her own good fortune.

She regarded other brutes as the filth beneath her paws, lecherous fools unworthy of her time and effort. Already, she was old enough to be a mother twice over, but the thought of a different sire for her offspring was sickening. As winter settled and the feminine hormones flared across the island, Datura would not take any chances. She would avoid her male cohorts until her day arrived and Goliath came. To accept any other male’s progeny would be a sin. Other females would be in heat, but Datura would be the first for her alpha. She was a follower even when Goliath had no others to lead. No one could be as devout, she was certain. And if they tried? Heaven help them.

It was hardly a secret between the pair that Datura was nearly as depraved as the only wolf who she bowed down to, though strangers would not guess it from sight alone. She looked every part the innocent fae, when all the while, the demons still whispered in her ear, urging her forward. No one else could comprehend the sick gratification she found in belonging to him, that streak of masochism tucked away deep inside.

When he spoke, the ominous, low tones that escaped his chords caused the girl to quiver from tail to snout, haunches withering towards the earth below her. The close proximity of her lord brought a feverish heat that sweltered beneath her cream-colored coat. She could not describe the chaos within, but the indulgence in his voice hinted that he felt something akin to her own quivering need. Pawing at his massive toes impatiently, her dainty mitts looked so miniscule in comparison. Every bit of Goliath was exaggerated. She looked to his face, the crushing jaws and glinting canines, and the female fantasized about the number of meaningless lives he would demolish. He would make them suffer. A different fate waited across the waters for Datura – Torture of another kind. The thought made her entire body quiver with anticipation.

He had claimed her mind and body, taking without hesitance, and she would give to him willingly when he came for what waited beneath the surface. She would allow him in, deeper than ever before, and Datura would claim a piece of him in return, to fill the empty spaces that no one else could touch. Agony and ecstacy were one and the same, all in the name of that which was sacred to her. Regardless of the price she would pay, she would crucify herself for him.

Goliath’s self-restraint deflected her ardor, forcing the little she-wolf away as if she was no more than a pup. Deep in her core, her tiny body fought against obedience. Her stoic façade thawed in silent protest, muzzle falling visibly. The wolfess was not yet ready to be dismissed. No argument followed, though. She knew better than that now. The alpha of Kairos had business to attend to – pack mates to accept or deny as he deemed fit, and now two territories to protect from outsiders. Given no alternative, Datura curtailed her appetite to regain some composure, offering up no verbal protest. The decision was made and he gave no room for interpretation.

Undeterred, her disappointed expression was soon replaced with a brazen smile. Her tail twitched between her hind legs. When she did finally speak, her voice was tinged with her savage fervor. “Then I shall eagerly await your return, my alpha,” she purred as she turned. The fae slipped away, away from his crushing weight and her unquenched thirst for more. The ivory tip of her tail curled around her hip as she left him to expose her heat – a sultry promise of what was to come. She was his, and she would exist for his indulgence until the season passed.

Joyfully, she would receive his blessing and his seed in those hallowed lands, the island Paradise of his birth. Earthen eyes cast over the newly claimed territory a final time before she followed his word. Vor’asa had been fruitful, but Datura’s duties to the pack now shifted to Ina’mos. Ina’mos would be her home, the same place Goliath’s sire had once reigned. She would make her alpha proud, all others be damned. As he desired, Ina’mos had to be where his successors were born. The swim was not so daunting as the patience required to wait for her beloved to join her there. If mercy existed, the wait would not be long.

words: 940
tag: @zenith
ooc: :>