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dionysianivy · 4 months ago

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𝐎𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐚

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What is Ostara?

Ostara is a lesser sabbat that marks the official arrival of spring and takes place on the spring equinox, around March 20-21 in the Northern Hemisphere and September 20-23 in the Southern Hemisphere. It’s the moment when day and night are of equal length, symbolizing balance before the days begin to grow longer and light overcomes darkness. This is a time of renewal, fertility, and new beginnings, making it perfect for fresh starts and setting intentions for the season ahead.

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The Legend of Ostara

According to a legend, Ostara is celebrated in honor of the Germanic goddess of the dawn and spring. The story goes that she once found a bird injured by the cold of winter. To save it, she transformed it into a hare, but the hare retained its ability to lay eggs. As a sign of gratitude, the hare painted and gifted eggs to the goddess, which is why eggs remain a central symbol of Ostara today. (1883, H. Krebs)

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Goddess Eostre

Eostre, also known as Ostara, is the Germanic goddess of spring, fertility, and renewal. Her name is linked to the word "east" and the rising dawn, and some believe it means "Radiant Dawn." Eostre represents the spirit of spring and the return of fertility to the earth. Her arrival was traditionally celebrated with flowers, singing, bell ringing, and the lighting of new fires at dawn. She is often described as a beautiful young woman with flowers woven into her hair, accompanied by her consort and also her sacred animal, a hare. Sometimes he appears as a full-grown man, other times as a small rabbit cradled in her arms. Together, they bring eggs, a powerful symbol of the earth’s rebirth and fertility.

There isn��t much information about Eostre, but she is mentioned in the writings of an 8th-century monk, Venerable Bede. He recorded that the pagan Anglo-Saxons of medieval Northumbria held festivals in her honor during the month of April. Other than this, we don’t know much about how she was worshiped in ancient times. However, by the 19th century, she had become an important figure in German folklore, appearing in literature, paintings, and stories. She is often depicted as a youthful maiden adorned with flowers, symbolizing nature’s renewal after winter.

Some ancient festivals are said to have honored her with offerings of flowers, eggs, and feasts, welcoming the warmth and life she brings. Venerable Bede documented these traditions around the year 700 CE while traveling through Europe, recording pagan customs for the Catholic Church. The Church later attempted to shift the focus from Eostre to the resurrection of Jesus, but many ancient traditions remained deeply rooted. Eventually, instead of trying to erase them, the Church adapted and merged the two celebrations, renaming their spring festival “Easter” as a way to unite both traditions.

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The Symbolism of The Painted Eggs

Eggs have long been a symbol of fertility, renewal, and the emergence of new life. Many cultures have used painted eggs in their spring festivals, from ancient Egyptians and Persians to European pagans. In the context of Ostara, eggs represent the potential for new beginnings and the fertility of the land as it awakens from winter. Decorating eggs is a tradition that has continued for centuries, carrying the magic of transformation and the blessings of abundance for the coming season.

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Magic Correspondences

Planets: Mars

Season: Spring

Element: Air

Time of the Day: Dawn, Early Morning

Tarot: The High Priestess, The Emperor, Sevend of Wands, Justice

Colors: All pastel colors, yellow, green, pink, blue, brown

Herbs: Sorrel, Mint, Rosemary, Ginger, Irish Moss, Tansy, Woodruff, Wood Betony, Star Anise, Catnip

Fruits: Strawberries, Tangerine, Bananas, Lemon, Grapefruit, Apple, Orange, Mulberries, Kiwi

Vegetables: Artichokes, Asparagus, Carrots, Spring Onions, Garlic, Wild Nettles, Mushrooms

Crystals: Aquamarine, Jasper, Amethyst, Rose Quartz, Green Aventurine, Moonstone. Amazonite

Runes: Teiwaz, Ehwaz, Berkana

Trees: Birch, Rowan, Dogwood, Ash, Alder

Godesses: Eostre, Freyja, Aphrodite, Isis, Hecate, Demeter, Gaia, Athena, Astarte, Minerva, Cybele, The Morrigan

Gods: Mars, Ares, Apollo, Pan, Cernunnos, Tyr, Odin, Osiris, Dagda, Adonis

Dragon: Grael, Sairys

Flowers: Daffodil, Hyacinth, Daisy, Tulips, Clover, Crocus, Violet, Rose, Jasmine, Lilac, Honeysuckle

Animals: Hare, Rabbit, Chicks, Lamb, Butterfly, Robin, Bee, Snake. Deer, Wolf

Magical Powers: Balance, Renewal, Action, New Beginnings, Hope, New Possibilities, Fertility, Rebirth

Symbols: Rabbits, Eggs, Flowers, Bees, Birds and Nests, Butterflies, Flower Crowns, Seeds

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Activities to do:

🐰 Decorate your space with Ostara symbols like eggs, bunnies, baby chicks etc.

🐣 Start planting seeds in your garden.

🐰 Buy or pick fresh flowers and place them in your home.

🐣 Paint some eggs. Use simple colors or add sigils, runes, symbols or anything you want to attract.

🐰 If you have a farm or a garden, it's the perfect time to buy and raise baby chicks! <3

🐣 Enjoy a festive meal to celebrate both Ostara and Spring Equinox.

🐰 Do some painting or other creative activities.

🐣 Do a deep spring cleaning, you rearrange your furniture for a fresh start.

🐰 Clean up your garden.

🐣 Leave seeds in your garden for birds.

🐰 Spend time in nature and look for the first signs of spring.

🐣 Make a list of goals to accomplish before spring ends.

🐰 Burn some incense to cleanse your space.

🐣 Make special Ostara candles with seasonal colors or herbs.

🐰 Do a tarot, rune, or pendulum reading in the morning of Ostara.

🐣 Try an Ostara guided meditation to connect with the celebration.

🐰 Honor Goddess Eostre with offerings or prayers.

🐣 Make an Ostara magickal jar

🐰 Wear clothing or jewelry in Ostara colors.

🐣 Try new recipes, especially with eggs and carrots.

🐰 Drink some tea and relax.

🐣 Read about Ostara and its traditions.

🐰 Make a flower crown for yourself or a loved one.

🐣 Try colorful makeup inspired by spring.

🐰 Dye eggs naturally or try flower prints on them.

🐣 Make friendship bracelets and share them with your loved ones.

🐰 Spend time with animals and connect with their energy.

🐣 Host an Ostara picnic or dinner with friends or family.

🐰 Plant your dream garden or buy new flower seeds.

🐣 Try aromatherapy with fresh scents (spring flowers).

🐰 Plan an egg hunt for fun with friends or family.

🐣 Connect with deities associated with Ostara and spring.

🐰 Worship your deities and honor Goddess Eostre.

🐣 Paint your nails in pastel colors.

🐰 Decorate your altar with Ostara symbols and colorful ribbons.

🐣 Try new activities, change routines, and care for yourself!

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Food and Drinks:

Anything that has eggs! omelet, deviled eggs, stuffed eggs, carrot cake, braided bread, honey pastries, lamb, ham, fish, green vegetables, asparagus, goat cheese, sheep cheese, cow milk cheese, goat milk, sheep milk, cow milk, seasonal fruits, orange juice, tangerine juice, homemade carrot juice, dishes garnished with parsley, sweet egg tarts, muffins, carrot muffins, waffles, hot cross buns, herbal tea, mint, salads garnished with edible flowers, lemon, lemon bread, violet flower cake, lavender cake, brownies, preserves from last season, apples, yogurt, mozzarella, chocolate cake.

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useful sources: Wicca: A Modern Guide To Witchcraft & Magick; Encyclopedia of Witchcraft: The Complete A-Z for the Entire Magical World by Judika Illes

gifs credit: Pinterest

tips♡🐇🌼

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639-hear-me-out-bby · 8 days ago

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under a thousand moons | jinu saja

each night, he plays his worn bipa beneath the temple eaves—music born not of glory, but of need, of survival, of something quietly breaking. she hears it from across the city, a melody like a secret meant only for her. when they finally meet, it isn't grand or loud—it’s soft, inevitable, like a thread tugging two hearts closer. in a city that forgets the poor and passes by the quiet, one boy’s song and one girl’s pause become the start of something neither of them expected—and neither can forget.

pairing: kpdh jinu x f. reader (she/her pronouns used) genre: rom-fantasy, timeless love, angst, slow burn (i hope i deliver aaaaaa) rating: teen and up audiences warnings: poverty, emotional vulnerability, animal neglect (implied mention), soft angst word count: 2.7k+ credits & honoraries: inspired by @scribblewytch’s incredible fic—thank you for letting me build off your magic ♡ nabi's notes: this movie has me in a chokehold im tellin' y'all soooo here's my entry to the fandom. to many more!✧˖° ⊹ ࣪ ˖

the bipa had five strings. two were frayed. one never stayed in tune, no matter how often he coaxed it. but when he sat down to play, it didn’t matter. the sound it made was still beautiful—raw and unpolished, yes, but achingly human. like something old and weathered that still remembered how to sing.

each day began the same way. at dawn, he rolled up his sleeves and helped his mother run the small tteok stall they kept on the edge of the lower market row. it was nothing special—just a squat wooden cart, its lacquer faded from too many summers, with a rusted grill and a few baskets of skewered rice cakes waiting to be cooked. they brushed each one with a glaze of sweet soy, let the sugar bubble and crisp over the coals until it shimmered, then handed them over with folded hands. some customers came with kind words. most came and went in silence. a few haggled over every coin. but his mother never turned anyone away.

by midday, the heat clung to their skin like syrup, and the scent of grilled tteok soaked into his sleeves. his fingers were often sticky from the glaze, and the soles of his sandals were worn thin from standing. still, they didn’t complain. that stall kept them fed. most nights, they brought home whatever hadn’t sold and reheated it for dinner.

only after they closed up—after the coals died down and the cart was wheeled into the narrow alley behind their home—did he sling the bipa over his back and make the climb to the temple wall.

there, just beyond the final incense stalls, beneath the tiled eaves that curved like crescent moons, he sat and played. the space was small, no wider than a doorway, but it shielded him from wind and rain. smoke from incense coils lingered in the corners, curling like ghost-thin ribbons around the worn stone. monks passed by in silent rows, their eyes never drifting toward him. not out of cruelty—just habit. to them, he was part of the landscape. a boy and his old instrument, folded into the city’s edge like moss on a wall.

he wore the same clothes each evening: a thin tunic that might’ve once been sky blue, now faded to the color of old parchment, patched at the seams. a ribbon of cloth—once red, now rust-brown—tied his hair back from his face. but the wind always had its way. strands slipped free and clung to his cheeks, kissed by the night air. he never pushed them aside.

around him, the kingdom moved. the scrape of sandals on cobble. the creak of carts laden with root vegetables and late-summer melons. laughter drifted up from the market below, mingled with haggling and half-sung lullabies. somewhere down the slope, a city official barked at delivery boys, his voice sharp as cut metal. and still, the boy played.

not for attention. not for pity. not even for coin—though sometimes a silver or two clinked to the ground from a passing stranger. there was no jar in front of him. no woven hat. only dust, and the long, curling shadow cast by the setting sun.

the music was quiet at first. a murmur. the low breath of something buried deep beneath the city’s noise. it didn’t rise like a grand overture. it seeped. moved. unfurled. a melody not born from memory but from need—notes remembered by the body.

it wasn’t a courtly tune, nor one meant for festivals or drinking nights. it was older. nameless. felt, not recognized. like something that lived between stories and prayers.

his fingers moved not with elegance, but with persistence. each note was earned. grit carved into calluses, calluses pressed into chords. his wrists ached from lifting tteok all day, from the strain of playing the same refrain until it stitched itself into his bones. the pain didn’t stop him. it was part of the rhythm.

"that again," muttered a woman, shifting the baskets on her shoulders.

"always that same sound," her companion said, wiping his brow with a rag.

"like a funeral."

"no," she said after a moment. "like something trying not to die."

a stray cat had taken up residence nearby—a scrappy thing with matted fur and ribs like bent reeds. it limped with every step, its tail dragging like a tattered ribbon. he sometimes fed it. never touched it. but he never made it leave. it came back each night and curled beside him, closing its eyes like it, too, needed the music to stay whole.

when the final note came, it didn’t rise. it fell—quietly, like the last ember giving in to ash. there was no applause. no dramatic hush. only the wind and the continued murmur of the city.

but the air had shifted. ever so slightly. like something had been scraped away, leaving a raw edge where silence used to be.

he leaned back against the temple wall. the stone was cool. firm. familiar in the way old things are—unyielding but steady. the wind slipped past him, threading through alleyways, brushing across rooftops like a whisper. his music went with it, tangled in the scent of grilled tteok, smoke, and rain.

down the crooked street, past the baker’s alley and silk stalls, a girl paused.

she was running errands, a woven basket clutched to her chest. her sleeves were rolled to the elbow, hands dusted with flour. her hair was pinned in a loose coil, held by a carved wooden comb that had begun to slip. people brushed past her, muttering complaints, but she didn’t notice.

her head tilted. not toward him��she couldn’t see him from where she stood—but toward the sound. that soft, distant melody floating between rooftops and lamplight. she had heard it before. every night, as she closed her father’s shop. always that same tune, never quite the same twice.

there was something in it—something that curled beneath her ribs and settled warm in her chest. as if the music was calling to something inside her she hadn’t yet named.

she didn’t smile. didn’t cry. she just stood there, for one breath longer than necessary.

and then she moved.

but her steps were slower now. not heavy. not sad. just... changed. as though the music had rearranged something inside her. smoothed something out. stirred something else.

she always heard it.

and tomorrow—maybe—she would follow it.

she was the shaman’s daughter, her mother, the royal spiritual and physical practitioner to the queen and the women of the palace. her mother’s hands—soft, but stained with oils and ash—moved between this world and the next with a grace that was half-learned, half-inherited. she was the one the queen called upon for warding dreams, easing births, or quieting the tremors that followed sorrow. her words were few, her silences deep. the girl had grown up beside her, tucked into quiet corners of court halls and forest shrines alike.

that morning, she walked the palace path with a woven basket in hand, heavy with herbs and thread. she was to wait by the eastern courtyard, where the garden met the temple wall, until her mother finished tending to the queen’s favored attendant—a young woman who had woken with a grief she couldn’t name. the girl did not ask questions. she had learned to let silence carry its own answers.

she sat on a stone ledge beneath a fig tree whose limbs arched low like old shoulders. sunlight filtered through the broad leaves, dappling her arms and the ground with uneven gold. the breeze carried the mingled scents of jasmine, roasted barley, and sandalwood. around her, the palace stirred with its usual rhythm—slippers whispering against stone, the faint clatter of bowls after morning offerings, the low calls of guards changing posts.

and then—she heard it.

that sound.

the bipa.

the boy had moved closer. she hadn’t seen him at first, but the music reached her before her eyes did. it always did. the thread of melody wove through the morning noise, rising from somewhere near the incense stalls beyond the temple gate. it was unmistakably his—rough around the edges, aching in places, but with a core of beauty that couldn’t be dulled.

she rose slowly and stepped out of the fig tree’s shade.

there he was.

seated cross-legged near the worn stone steps, tucked into the angle where two walls met, his back straight and his hands steady on the bipa’s body. the instrument looked more frayed than ever—its lacquer dulled with use, one string stretched so thin she was surprised it held. yet he played it like it was whole. like it had never known a flaw.

he didn’t play like the court musicians. there was no flourish, no poised performance. his hands moved with the rhythm of someone who knew work: who had scrubbed pots, flipped skewers, stacked bowls, then picked up his instrument. his sleeves still bore faint traces of dark sauce—evidence of the morning’s labor at his family’s stall along the lower market road. she had passed it once. she remembered a woman—likely his mother—turning skewers of grilled rice cakes over hot coals, brushing them with sweetened soy as steam rose into her face.

now, in the hush at the temple’s edge, he played. not to perform. not for coin. but for something quieter. truer. as though the sound was part of his breath, and he simply needed to let it out before it collapsed inside him.

she watched his fingers curve around the strings—not with elegance, but with effort. there was strength in the way he played, the kind born of repetition and necessity. the music wasn’t delicate, but it was deliberate. it resonated.

around them, the palace continued—vendors calling prices, monks sweeping walkways, officials stepping from palanquins—but it all seemed dulled, like the world had slipped underwater, and only the music remained sharp.

her fingers tightened around the basket’s handle.

her mother would appear soon—tall, solemn, cloaked in robes faintly scented with mugwort and pine. she would say nothing, only tilt her head in that knowing way, and the girl would follow. that was how it always went. routine wrapped in reverence. tradition passed like a cup of tea between hands.

but for now, she remained still.

her gaze lingered on the boy. his dark hair, tied back with a faded ribbon, caught the sunlight like thread in a loom. his face was calm, focused—neither hardened nor soft. his clothes were modest, worn but clean, carefully cared for even if the dye had faded to parchment hues. he looked like someone with nothing extra to give, but who gave anyway.

and the music—gods, the music.

it pulled at her, low in the ribs. not like a tune sparking memory, but like a sound tapping something older. like the cry of a crane over still water. like wind through hollow bamboo.

without thinking, her lips parted.

a hum slipped out—quiet, instinctive. a single note, then another. she didn’t sing in words, only tones. barely more than breath. a harmony beneath his melody. not strong enough to interrupt. just enough to thread through the spaces he left open.

her song met his like a second flame catching the edge of the first.

she didn’t know why she sang. only that her heart felt suddenly full—of smoke and sunlight and something she hadn’t named in years. something like longing. something like recognition.

and still, the boy never looked up.

he didn’t need to. the music didn’t ask to be noticed.

it only asked to be heard.

and across the courtyard, standing in that quiet pause between waiting and duty, she answered.

evening stretched thin across the city, staining the sky in folds of indigo and rose. the lanterns along the temple road were already lit, their warm glow pooling on the stone path like spilled gold. a breeze carried the scent of grilled chestnuts, burnt sugar, and the tail end of incense.

he sat in his usual spot, beneath the curved eaves of the temple wall, just beyond where vendors were packing up for the night. the bipa rested in his lap, its wood familiar beneath his fingers. he had just returned from helping his mother. his sleeves still faintly smelled of sweet soy and smoke.

he wasn’t playing yet. just sitting with the weight of the day in his limbs, brushing his thumb lightly across a string. adjusting. listening. breathing. the cat had already curled beside him, tail tucked in, eyes half-closed.

then—soft footsteps.

she appeared like a skipped beat in the rhythm of the street. a figure not meant to be there, and yet exactly right. she walked quickly at first, basket in hand, sleeves rolled from a long day, her hair pinned with the same comb now slightly askew. she looked like someone with tasks to finish, brisk in her steps, measured in her pace.

but then she heard it.

just a few notes, plucked like drifting questions. not a song yet—just a whisper of one.

she slowed. then stopped.

he noticed her before she noticed him. a slight hesitation in her step. a tilt of her head. she stood at the base of the stairs, caught between leaving and lingering.

he hadn’t meant to meet her eyes. but he did.

and something flickered—quick and quiet—between them. not quite recognition. just a shared pause. a subtle understanding neither of them could name.

she took a cautious step closer.

“is that a bipa?” she asked, voice low, careful not to disturb the silence.

“it is,” he replied, adjusting the tuning peg. his voice was soft, a little rough from the smoke and the long day, but steady.

“it sounds like…” she hesitated. “like wind inside a memory.”

he smiled—not widely, but enough. “that’s a good way to put it.”

she looked at the worn edges of the instrument, the curve of its belly, the way it seemed to fit him like a second spine. “i always hear it from down the hill. at the weaving stalls. every night.”

“i didn’t think anyone noticed,” he said.

“i notice.”

another silence stretched—longer now, not heavy, but held. she set her basket down at the stone wall’s edge and sat, folding her legs beneath her. not too close. not too far. the cat, ever territorial, glanced at her, then looked away.

“do you take requests?” she asked.

he chuckled softly. “only if you don’t mind it sounding a little... frayed.”

“i don’t mind.”

she looked at him then—not just his face, but the whole of him. how the threadbare tunic sat across his shoulders. how the ribbon in his hair was more string than silk. how his hands looked strong and worn and capable.

“what you play,” she said, “feels like it’s holding something together.”

he paused. then nodded, gaze lowering to the strings.

“i play because if i don’t,” he said quietly, “i’m afraid something in me might fall apart.”

he plucked the first note.

it rang out, low and full, then trembled softly into the night. the next followed. and the next—until the music unfolded like breath held too long. there were no words to the song, but she understood it anyway.

he played for her—not with grandeur, but with honesty. like unspooling thread from the chest. the sound rose and fell, shifting between shadows and lantern light. around them, the city exhaled. voices passed. the day let go.

when the music faded, she didn’t speak right away.

“do you always play like that?” she asked finally.

he shrugged lightly, wiping his fingertips on his tunic. “only when someone’s really listening.”

she looked down at her hands. then up at him again. “i’ll listen tomorrow, too.”

he didn’t answer. but something in his expression warmed.

then she stood, lifted her basket, and introduced herself.

he nodded. “i know.”

her brow lifted, amused. “you do?”

“you ask for the broken tteok at the end of the day,” he said. “you give it to the street dogs when you think no one’s looking.”

she flushed. “so you do notice.”

he shrugged. “only some things.”

she smiled—not wide, not bright, but real. the kind of smile that made the evening feel whole.

“i’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

then she turned and walked down the path. her steps were quieter now, as if she didn’t want to disturb the fading echo of his music.

and he sat a while longer, fingers resting on the strings, eyes on the place where she had been.

they had met by chance.

but in the way the world stilled for just a breath—just long enough for two people to notice each other—they had met at exactly the right moment.

should i continue? heart, reblog, or interact whatever. i highly appreciate feedback!

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shrowded-eng1ma · 2 years ago

Note

Hey! Can i request flirty Intro dialogue’s for mk1 but with male characters this time? (male reader or gn please)

Sure

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Characters; Syzoth (Reptile), Rizzler Cage, Bi-Han (SubZero), Gn Reader

——

Syzoth

I can see Liu kang taught you how to ensnare me in your fiery passion

What? The monks taught me. Not Liu kang.

Ready to lose?

I will be the winner once my tongue reaches you

Say Syzoth? Why’s Ashrah interested in you?

The same reason why IM intrigued in you

(I couldn’t think of any else ;-;)

Johnny Rizz

It’s surprising your not edenian angel~

Who’s angel?

I’m lost in your eyes, and I don’t want a map to the exit, only a map the leads into your arms~

This IS a sparing match cage, not an acting set

It’s pretty cold yeah? Come here, let me warm you up~

I like the cold

Sub-Zero

Around you, I feel a fire hotter then my brothers flame

Uh.. thanks..?

Your beauty is as chilling as my cryomancer abilities, yet it warms my heart

Wait.. my beauty is chilling? Isn’t that bad?!

Like ice and snow, our connection is undeniable

What connection?

#female reader #gender neutral reader #male reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mk11 x reader #mk1 reptile #mk1 johnny cage #johnny cage x male reader #johnny cage x reader #Johnny cage x gender neutral reader #reptile x reader #syzoth #syzoth x reader #bi han #sub zero #bi-han mk #bi-han x reader

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adragonprinceswhore · 7 months ago

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You’re Nothing But A Beast

Osferth x Reader

Summary: After falling into a river in the middle of winter, Osferth needs to warm up his lady companion.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, depictions of hypothermia, temperature play, water being too hot for comfort, yearning, religious guilt, fingering, praise

A/N: I dug this one up and re-read it today, feeling festive so thought I’d share it 🩵

Word count: 2600

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

It happened too quickly for Osferth to react.

Under his lord's request, he had been trusted with the important task of delivering a noble lady to her betrothed only two days' journey away.

But the sudden snowfall that met them after a mere half day's travel left the ground slippery, causing his companion's horse to panic and throw her off and into the river lining their path.

Osferth hadn’t hesitated when he jumped off his horse and reached into the river to aid her, swiftly dragging her to land as she coughed up the water she’d swallowed in shock.

He’d pulled the furs adorning his saddle loose and wrapped her in them in a futile attempt at keeping her warm, but to little avail. Shivers continuously erupted from her body so aggressively she could hardly stand still.

Now, dread makes Osferths chest tighten as he considers their situation.

Only half-way to the inn where they’re set to spend the night, one horse short and snow falling onto their cold bodies, freezing them further.

He glances at the Lady he’s meant to protect as he ponders their next move.

Her shaking form leaves him on high alert. She looks like prey; ready to be captured by any ravenous predator lurking behind the trees.

He knows how quickly the chill can claim a person.

I have failed her.

“My lady, we need to find heat”, he speaks rapidly, eyes blown wide in panic as one of his hands tenderly rests on her arm. She only shivers in response, mouth unable to utter words as her teeth chatter loudly together.

Lord Uthred had tasked him with this, a simple delivery, and he is failing him.

I have failed my lord.

Osferth tries to chase the defeatist thoughts rattling in his brain away. He cannot let this blunder best him, this might be one of God’s trials; a chance for him to prove to the Lord that he is still a good man, despite the depraved acts he’s indulged in as of late.

He places her in the saddle of his horse, continuing their tracking as he leads them on the narrow path lined with snowclad trees. He cannot help it when his eyes flicker to her. In the corner of his eye, he sees the strange shade her lips have shifted into; the drain of colour on her face.

When Lord Uthred had informed his men that one of them needed to escort a noble lady on a short trip, he hadn’t even bothered to look Osferths way. Fighting alongside them, offering his loyalty and by consequence, his life, to their cause still did not reflect on how they viewed him; always just a Baby Monk.

Osferth’s insistent advocating had finally worn his lord down. Uthred’s tone was laced with irritation when he reluctantly agreed to grant the young man his first expedition unaccompanied.

Looking around the sparse trees next to the path they were trailing, Osferth felt shame consume him like never before. He shouldn’t have been trusted with this; it was as they thought.

Still just a Baby Monk.

He sighs in resignation, moving to walk infront of where the lady’s shiver form is sitting so she won’t be able to see his face as the corners of his lips pull down.

Walking with his head cast down, shoulders tensing up with each step, he suddenly realises that he’s trailed this path before.

In summer, which could explain why he hadn’t recognised the scenery quicker, as it’s now coated in a layer of snow.

The Lord must be on my side.

“My lady, I know a place nearby that will warm you”, he speaks over his shoulder before he steers his horse towards where he is sure they discovered a natural spring spewing out hot water from the underground last time he walked this wood.

From the saddle of his horse, she let out a weak hum in reply.

Osferth’s estimations were correct. There is a source of hot water here; a blessing that God himself had carved out of the side of a rocky hill. Despite the harsh winter chill, it is still warm, judging by the steam oozing from it.

Could this be witchcraft?

They come to a halt before the water. “Lady, the spring here will warm you”, he explains, turning around to face her.

She’s stopped shivering, her body now seems stuck in rigidity. Osferth swallows thickly before reaching out to grab her waist to help her down from the horse. His fingers sink into the material of her coat with an unpleasant squelch; her clothes are soaked and freezing cold.

“You’ll need to remove this before entering”, he mumbles without looking into her eyes. The redness on his cheeks and ears are no longer solely from the harsh cold biting at his skin.

Before he joined Uthred, Finan and Sithric, he was a god-fearing monk devoted to a life in the service of God.

But his time with them had led him down a path of deviance; a life filled with swords, fighting and women.

The latter happened to be Osferth’s favourite of his new-found interests.

If he did not know of the pleasures of the flesh, he might not have found the lady he’s guarding so enchanting. He’d had eyes for her since he first saw her, admiring her soft skin and sparkling eyes. But only from afar.

Always from a distance.

A pious lady like her should not be sullied by my impurity, even in thought.

She moves unsteadily, hands stiff and rigid as she unsuccessfully tries to undo the buckles of her winter coat.

“Allow me”, Osferth offers as he quickly helps her get the coat off. Her thick wool dress underneath is just as soaked as her outer layer and Osferth helps her shed that too.

Soon, she is left in nothing but her undergarments; a thin, crem-coloured smock. It sticks to her curves like a second skin, giving Osferth a clear view of her perky nipples and the soft curls nestled between her thighs.

He does not know what to say, afraid his voice will betray his tainted intentions, and chooses to remain silent when he grabs her hand to lead her towards the heated water. He’s determined to help her get in, make sure she does not slip on any icy rocks, and then leave her to bathe herself warm.

Her cold hand holds on to him tightly as she steps into the water, a cry escapes her lips at the contact.

“I-, I cannot enter. It’s too hot”, she whines, stepping back. Osferth moves his hands to hold on to her elbows as he searches for her eyes.

“You must warm up, my lady. The chill could kill you”, he speaks softly. She nods in understanding, again moving her feet back into the scorching water. She hisses at the sting as she brings her second foot in, eyes growing glassy at the sensation.

“Osferth, it burns”, she meekly complains.

“Please, try to relax”, he instructs her. He cannot help but take pity on her, she still looks so weak, the familiar glint in her eyes no longer there.

She takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself before experimentally lowering her body a bit further. The hot water feels like a thousand needles piercing her skin and she quickly stands to her full height again.

The grip she has on Osferths coat tightens as she stiffly stands in the warm spring, “I cannot-, i- it’s too painful”, she says in a defeated tone.

Osferth feels how cold her body is through her thin smock. He sees the odd colouring of her face. She needs to warm her body, even if it’s painful.

The brief but instructive experience with the women he’d indulged in had earned him some new skills. Perhaps he could utilise that to make her more pliable?

“If I help you overcome the sting, will you stay in the water?”, he inquires with uncertainty, already ashamed of his lewd proposal.

She looks up at him curiously, nodding in response.

“I know of a way to relax you, if you trust me?”

“I trust you with my life, Osferth”, she gently replies, giving him the courage he needs to show her his debauchery.

He smiles nervously, allowing his hand to move from her elbow down to her hip. He cannot find the words to explain what he’ll do to her, and decides that it would be better to simply show her.

His palm travels from her hip, to her thigh, and then towards her centre. She shivers slightly under his touch, but does not stop him, eyes watching him in peculiarity.

He moves to gently cup her mound, long fingers reaching down to stroke her core over her garment.

The fabric will shield her from my impurity, if only slightly.

His face feels hot, his eyes flicker from her face to the snowy setting surrounding them. He tries his best to remain indifferent, but the sweet gasp she releases as he carefully strokes her stirs something awake within him.

“Focus on the pleasure, my lady”, he instructs her as he moves his fingers to circle her pearl through the wet fabric of her smock. He wonders if she’s ever done this to herself; ever allowed herself to engage in sinful pleasure.

Her fists are still holding onto the fabric of his coat, her breath heavy as she tries to forget the burning water her feets are submerged in.

Osferth grows bolder, pressing down a bit harder as his fingers work in steady circles. Her body squirms before him.

He instantly stops the movements of his hand, eyes filled with worry as he asks, “Am I hurting you?”

“No”, she says with a slight shake of her head.

“Then let me”, he pleads, picking up the pace of his hand once more, “Please”

She closes her eyes, tiny gasps leaving her stiff mouth.

“I-, If you.. also touch..”, he cannot finish the sentence, still ashamed of his depravity; the depravity he’s inflicting upon her.

She must know that he does not mean to besmirch her, his only wish is to help her.

She surely knows how sullied I am by now. Will she still allow me to guard her as our journey continues for another day?

“Osferth?”, her voice, close to a moan, brings his thoughts to a halt.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Is it a sin to kiss?”

Her inquiry leaves his mouth dry, yet he swallows and answers, “I-, I do not know”

“Oh”, she sighs, not in pleasure but more akin to disappointment.

“I-, I cannot imagine it is!”, he blurts out when he sees her eyes cast down, “Simply an expression of affection. Like between a mother and her babe”, he reasons, voice slightly breathless at the implication.

“Do you feel affection for me?”, she asks, gaze trailing up to meet his.

How could he resist her now, when she’s looking at him like that? When the shimmer in her eye has returned? When he can think of nothing else but to swallow the sweet moans that leave her lips?

He ducks his head down to kiss her in reply, the hand not between her thighs coming up to engulf the entirety of her cheek.

She moans into his mouth when his thumb circles her pearl, and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth. Her face and lips are so cold, but her kiss is just as sweet as he’d imagined.

He comes up for air, still revelling in the feeling of her, “Does it feel more bearable?”

“Yes”, she moans again, the colour now back on her cheeks.

Despite the depraved method, Osferth takes pride in knowing that he’s helping her; warming her up again.

“Kneel”, he instructs, allowing her to grab onto him as he lowers himself with her, standing on his knees in the snow as she sinks further into the scorching water.

She hisses at the stinging sensation and Osferth soothes her with another kiss, quietly murmuring, “I’ll make you comfortable, my lady”.

He can feel how cold the smock is against her skin, and without pondering upon it for too long, he moves to rid her of the garment. A voice inside of him tells him it’s to allow the steam from the water to reach her skin. Another voice tells him it’s for his own pleasure, so he may admire her fully.

Has the devil consumed my senses?

She is still shivering; from the cold air, the heat of the water, or Osferth’s touch, she does not know.

He brings one of his hands down into the water, large palm gently scooping up some of the scorching water and letting it slide down the side of her arm.

“You’re doing so well”, Osferth compliments her, eyes kind and inviting as they seem unable to stray away from hers.

His hand comes up to cradle the side of her face. She leans into his touch and closes her eyes, focusing on the pleasure, not her stinging flesh.

His other hand moves between her thighs again, but this time he makes contact with her pearl without hindrance and she whimpers at his touch, eyebrows scrunched together in bliss.

Divine.

His fingers travel down further. Feeling the wetness he created with his touch has his head spinning.

As he slips a finger inside her tight heat, she grabs onto his shoulders, rocking her hips in tandem with his movements, throwing her head back. He searches for that spot inside her that he knows will make her collapse into his embrace, and when he finds it she rewards his pursuit with another pleasure-thick cry.

“Use me, my lady. Find your pleasure”, Osferth urges as he places his hand so that the finger inside of her tightness presses at her sweet spot while the heel of his palm pushes down on her pearl.

Her fists hold onto his shoulders tightly as she rides his hand, mouth gasping as it searches for his to indulge in another sin. He lets her use him; he knows he’s the one responsible for her wanton ways.

I’ll pray to the Lord for her salvation later.

Another finger slips inside her, and he feels her tighten harshly as she peaks, falling forward into his embrace. He carefully moves his hand away from her warmth, allowing her a moment to steady her breathing as she rests her head against his chest.

Though she has found peace and comfort, Osferths body is still on high alert, painfully aware of the closeness between him and her naked form.

He’s been able to keep his gaze away from her, to offer her the slightest decency, but when she leans back his eyes unabashedly flicker down to watch the steady rise and fall of her breasts.

She finally sinks into the water, breathing heavily from the intense peak he drew from her. Osferth’s panting as well; cheeks tinted pink and eyes dark with lust. His mouth appears to be salivating as his gaze stays on her.

She lets out a breathless giggle as she allows the hot water to graze over her skin.

“You’re nothing but a beast, Osferth”

Her words wound him, but the playful smile on her face leaves him intrigued.

“Has the devil got his claws in you?”, she continues to taunt him, though he senses that her intent is not malicious.

“Consume me too. Show me the depths of your depravity”

#osferth fanfiction #osferth x reader #osferth x you #osferth the last kingdom #the last kingdom fanfic #my fics

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emmkayyy03 · 5 months ago

Text

🏹Astro observations again🐅✨

So, I'm back again after long and here is a new set of observations I thought of sharing.❤️

Venus in Ashvini Nakshatra

You're someone who loves a good challenge. You’re drawn to excitement, impulsive connections, and thrill. The turn-on? Someone who knows how to match your energy, with a fiery passion that keeps you on your toes. You’re into someone who takes the lead but knows how to keep things spontaneous and playful. Fast-paced romance, intense physical attraction, and adventure are what get your heart racing. You enjoy someone who pushes boundaries and doesn’t play by the rules, keeping things unpredictable and full of desire.

Sun in the 11th House

The life of the party, but always with a little something hidden beneath. People love being around you, but you’re not just a social butterfly; you're building connections that serve a greater purpose. You love attention, but it’s not just about fame—it's about respect. The turn-on? When someone admires your intellect as much as your personality. You're attracted to someone who can stimulate your mind and keep up with your social energy. Power dynamics, where you get to hold the reins, are your thing, creating a balance between leadership and being in control.

Ketu in the 1st House

Mysterious, detached, and giving off serious monk vibes, you walk into a room and immediately have everyone wondering who you are. People are captivated by your elusive nature and that "I don’t need anyone" vibe. It’s a major turn-on for someone who wants a challenge. You need someone who’s okay with your distant, independent side and is drawn to unraveling the layers beneath. Mental stimulation and someone who understands your need for space while keeping the connection strong is key. Power dynamics work well, with you as the one holding emotional control.

Moon in Revati Nakshatra

If your Moon’s in Revati, you're a walking mystery. People can’t quite put their finger on you, but they’re drawn in like moths to a flame. Emotionally deep, you’re not just sensitive; you pick up on everything around you. Your dreamy side? That’s a huge turn-on. You're the type that gets someone to fall in love just by being present, not even saying a word. When you let someone in, though, they get a taste of that intensity. You need someone who understands your emotional depth—someone who’s into connecting on that raw, unfiltered level.

Moon in Magha Nakshatra

Royalty vibes, straight-up. You're emotionally strong and carry the weight of your lineage. You don’t take disrespect lightly, and when you demand respect, you’re not joking. The turn-on here is when someone recognizes and respects your strength. If they’re intimidated? That’s a massive turn-on for you—someone who sees your true value and isn’t afraid to bow down. You enjoy being adored or even worshipped in subtle ways—acts of reverence and respect turn you on in a way that’s unmatched.

Mercury in Hasta Nakshatra

With your hands being your greatest asset, you're the charmer and the creator. You know how to speak with your hands, whether it’s crafting something, writing something, or just giving a killer massage. The turn-on is someone who appreciates your talent and can read your body language just as much as they listen to your words. You like being admired for your skill and creativity. Tactile acts—whether it’s touch, massage, or intimate creative acts—are your vibe. It’s about connection through action.

Mars in Ashlesha Nakshatra

You’re not just seductive; you’re dangerous. You know how to manipulate a situation with your words and actions. People don’t even realize they’re being charmed, but you’ve got them hooked. The turn-on here is someone who can handle your intensity—someone who can play the game without being scared. Mind games and roleplay, where you take charge, are your thing. Being able to switch between dominance and playful banter keeps things unpredictable and thrilling.

Rahu in the 9th House

You challenge everything, and that rebellious nature is what draws people to you. The turn-on? When someone is intellectually stimulating, someone who isn’t afraid to debate or question everything like you do. If someone can keep up with your rebellious ideas and isn’t afraid of change, it’s a huge turn-on. Intellectual dominance and someone who can challenge your ideas and make you think is incredibly enticing. You’re into the deeper connections that go beyond just physical attraction.

Saturn in the 3rd House

You’ve got the quiet strength, the kind that makes people listen when you speak. You're about quality over quantity in communication, and that restraint makes you stand out. The turn-on here is someone who values your wisdom and isn’t intimidated by your quiet power. You’re attracted to someone who can read between the lines and get what you’re about without you having to say much. Subtle power plays work for you, where the tension builds gradually, and the control dynamic is more about who’s listening to who than anything else.

Venus in Revati Nakshatra

You’ve got that fairy-tale love vibe with a touch of edge. You attract people who see you as their healer, and let’s face it, you’re a softie underneath that hard exterior. The turn-on is when someone really gets you—when they don’t just see you as a fantasy, but understand your need to help while respecting your boundaries. Emotional intimacy combined with physical tenderness is your sweet spot, where you can give and receive care in a deep, meaningful way.

Moon Square Rahu

the emotional tug-of-war is real, and it makes you unpredictable. You go through highs and lows, but it’s that intensity that people are drawn to. The turn-on is when someone can match your unpredictability and emotional depth. They need to be able to handle your conflicting sides and embrace both your heart and your ambition. Emotional push-pull dynamics where you can switch between being deeply connected and wildly driven works for you. The excitement comes in the balance of passion and tension.

Darakaraka (DK) in Punarvasu

Your partner is the definition of resilience. They’ve got this ability to rise again no matter what life throws their way. Emotional stability is their thing, but they also crave excitement and new experiences. They’ll have this calming presence that makes you feel safe, yet every now and then, they’ll slip into their own world. They might be into philosophy, spirituality, or something creative like writing. They believe in second chances—whether in life, love, or your relationship—and they’ll always know how to bring the sunshine back after any storm. You’ll love the balance they bring, mixing emotional depth with a thirst for adventure. Their quiet strength and ability to stay grounded, while still exploring new horizons, will leave you completely hooked.

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izzabela · 10 months ago

Note

Hello!! Can you write about Smoke trying to ask fem. reader to be his date for Kuai Liang's wedding?

Plus One - Tomas x fem!reader (5+1 fic)

in which Tomas tries five times to ask you to be his date, and the one time he finally gets it right

a/n: i love weddings guys

ship[s]: tomas x fem!reader

warning(s): post-kanon

1 - Johnny

Tomas had a plan.

Walk in the hosting room, hand you the small bouquet of wisterias, and ask you to accompany him to his brother's wedding.

Easy, right?

Wrong. Especially with a woman as beautiful as you.

You two weren't dating (yet), but Tomas had been pining after you for a couple of months now.

This wedding invite would double as an opportunity to ask you out completely.

Tomas holds the flowers he plans on giving you, stands in front of the door for a couple more seconds as he hypes himself up for you.

"You can do this," Tomas whispers to himself. Gripping on the handle of the door, he slides it open to meet you in a... precarious situation.

Johnny is chasing you around with one of Tomas's masks (elder gods know how that ended up in the hosting room). You were padding around the room in childish joy, but stopped once you saw him.

"Oh, Tomas!" you greet. "Sorry about that, Johnny dropped in for a visit for some research on Japan. Kuai Liang invited him in."

Your eyes drop to the wisteria bouquet.

"Who's that going to?" you ask.

Tomas tosses the bouquet out to the side, smiling tightly as he walks in and closes the door.

"Nothing! It was for sister..." he lies, guilty he's using Harumi as a scapegoat.

As you and Johnny continue playing, Tomas grits his teeth.

He has six days before the wedding. Day one didn't go so well, but he has six more days.

Yeah, he thinks, Tomorrow will go just fine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 - Raiden

You and Tomas are greeted at the entrance of the Wu Shi by Kung Lao and Raiden.

"Welcome, our esteemed guests," Kung Lao teases. You roll your eyes, bowing halfway.

"Funny, Kung Lao," you greet with a smile. Tomas does the same thing.

Five days until the wedding and Tomas still has his bouquet waiting for you. Since today was a visit to talk about security for the wedding.

Perfectly stowed away in his shirt, Tomas is by your side as Kung Lao and Raiden talk about the safety of the bride and groom.

A monk suddenly rushes to Kung Lao's side, whispering to him about... something.

"Apologies, everyone!" Kung Lao announces. "I'll be taking my leave, but Raiden will show you two more of the details."

Waving Kung Lao off, Raiden begins to tour you guys around the place and offer more insight to security and what the monks can provide.

You'd think that Tomas would have the perfect opportunity to talk to you about the wedding and going as a couple, but he didn't.

Raiden was stuck to your side the entire day. Literally, glued to your hip as he showed you every nook and cranny about the academy.

It wasn't even about the security of the monks anymore. He showed you everything and everywhere of the academy.

Little by little, Tomas could feel his confidence wilt and waver. It wasn't until the sun set that you finally were able to address Tomas.

"Raiden is such a hospitable young man," you gush, hand on your cheek as you wave goodbye.

"What was it you wanted to speak to me about?" you ask, walking with him as a portal opens back to the compound.

Tomas tucks the bouquet deeper into his shirt, smiling tightly as he glares at Raiden.

"It can wait until dinner, dove," Tomas answers politely. You smile, and Tomas can feel the guilt take bigger bites out of his conscious.

Poor Raiden, he was just trying to be friendly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3 - Kenshi

Four days.

Four days until the wedding and Tomas's chances have been ruined twice now.

No matter, since he still has time.

Today, Tomas knew no one would be taking up yours, his, or the clan's time at all. His bouquet for you was beginning to wilt a bit, but Harumi supplied him with plant food and a matching vase.

Carrying the flowers in its vase, he walks to the garden and pond in the back of the compound.

In all honesty, the days he got interrupted gave him time to practice his words for you. So this time around, he's more confident and ready.

Rounding the corner, he finds you sitting by yourself on the wooden ledge. The breeze was light and cool, and your hair billowed like a willow tree.

"Good morrow, dove," Tomas greets. You smile, a dust of pink over your cheeks.

Before you could say anything, Kenshi appears from the room behind you (was that always there? Tomas thinks). Though his eyes are no longer useful, his brows do the talking as they're up in surprise.

"Good morning, Tomas. What brings you here?"

A vein pops in his neck, and he bites back from saying "i live here, doofus". Keeping up appearances, he recovers and smiles semi-politely.

"I just finished training my students," Tomas answers.

You look to see that Tomas has the same flowers from a couple of days ago.

"I thought you had given that to Harumi already," you point to the flowers. "Did you not get it to her?"

Tomas mentally curses himself, "Ah, she wasn't in the other day."

Putting the flowers to the side, he sits down next to you and Kenshi, Kenshi to your left and him on your right.

You three are engrossed in conversation, and Tomas is actually okay with not being able to ask you out.

Besides, Kenshi is rational, Johnny was an idiot and Raiden was touchy (no he wasn't Tomas is just getting antsy).

I have tomorrow, Tomas thinks, Tomorrow I'll do it.

The wisterias keep bending over the lip of the vase, almost like a cursed rose counting down the time he had left before he'd be cursed forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4 - Kung Lao

With two days remaining until the wedding, Tomas's patience was running thin.

The wisteria bouquet was losing its color, and the taut petals were shriveling like raisins with the time passing like this.

Still, he remained hopeful. Just as there were wilting petals, there were still some that were bright and healthy.

"Today for sure," Tomas tells himself. "Today is the day I'll do it."

If Tomas had a ten yen coin for every time his allies came through and stopped his advances for you, he'd have three. It isn't a lot, but it is weird it happened three times.

Tomas opens another pack of fertilizer for the the flowers, dumping it in the water of the vase before he stirs it with a wooden dowel.

He's not bringing it today, since it looks like a bit of a mess. To replace it, he has a letter and a bouquet of baby's breath.

Leaving his room, he wanders the compound again to to try and see where you are.

It's a warm evening this time around, and the sun has barely just touched the horizon. Tomas can hear the birds chirp and fill the silence of nature, and he finally spots you.

You're by the entrance this time, leaning on the huge maple wood door frame while talking to someone. Despite the posture you're in, you look as regal as ever. The sun shines and illuminates your very features, and Tomas can't help but sigh like a school boy in love.

He steps closer, rounding the corner to see who could be making you cover your mouth as you laugh, only to find the silhouette of a sun hat.

"Oh, hello!" Kung Lao greets. His dimples are out as he smiles fully, pearly white teeth shining as he waves the smoke ninja over.

"Come join us! Little birdie over here was just updating me about the wedding plans!" Kung Lao yells.

You swat his shoulder and tell him to hush.

"You said you would not tell!" you scold. "This is a secret!"

Tomas hid the letter in his shirt and the bouquet in the pocket of his pants. He couldn't intervene, not now, and not when you were clearly enjoying the laughs Kung Lao was providing.

Still, Tomas remained by your side, back straight and putting up the best front he could. However, the bouquet in his pants portrayed a different story.

Tomorrow, Tomas thinks, I'll do it for real.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5 - Kuai Liang

The last day before the wedding.

Everything should have been in place so that the bride and groom could have time to relax and be with their respective parties before the day of the ceremony.

So why is it that you and Kuai Liang were together at a flower shop, piecing together his corsage?

It was strange, too, considering a corsage is a western practice- Japanese weddings didn't even need flowers unless it was for the bride.

Tomas didn't want to give up, not when the wedding was so close, but the fact he ended up following you and Kuai Liang to the flower shop in the village near the compound meant he was on thin ice.

And boy was he desperate.

Tomas was ready. His wisterias were healthy, the baby's breath was still in tact, and the flowers worked so well together. The letter was the perfect touch too.

So the fact he saw you and Kuai Liang leave together, he couldn't hide his frustrations any longer.

"Brother, I swear to the elder gods..." Tomas mumbles to himself as he watches you two from a roof nearby.

He was still thinking of a way to come up to you two naturally, and without showing the vase and letter.

At this point, though, and with the wedding tomorrow, he felt defeated. He felt like he had given up.

He keeps the flowers and letter on the roof, telling himself he'll get the later. He takes his mask off and ruffles his clothes to make it look like he ran errands.

Finally, he jumps down on the opposite end of the shop, walking down until you point out to Kuai Liang that you see him.

"Tomas! What brings you here?" you ask gleefully, unaware of the sadness that plagues his heart.

"Nothing, dove. Just running some final errands before the wedding tomorrow."

He spends the rest of the day with you and his brother, the flowers and letter sitting idly on the rooftop- just like his feelings rest idly in his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

+1 - Harumi

You brush Harumi's hair one more time before rolling the hood over her head. Through the mirror, you look at her and offer her words of encouragement.

"Oh Harumi, I'm so happy for you," you say with a wobbly voice, tears lining the bottom of your eyes as you squeeze her shoulder.

You friend of many years, your ride or die, your platonic soulmate, was getting married to the most honorable man in the planet- in the realm!

How could you not be happy for her?

Harumi can sense that something is amiss with you, especially since you've been so excited for this wedding.

"What plagues your mind, my friend?" she asks, turning away from the vanity to hold both your hands.

You shake your head, "Nothing is wrong, just so overcome with joy."

Yeah, no. Harumi isn't believing a word since your tone didn't match the words you spoke.

"Come now, you can tell me," Harumi coaxes you gently. You can't help but fall victim to her charm, and you sit next to her to tell her about the week leading up to today.

From Johnny and his research, Raiden and the Wu Shi visit, even the little meets with Kenshi and Kung Lao, and you can't forget the fact that Kuai Liang took you to a flower shop to get a corsage made for Tomas.

All of these little things, talking to your friends about how to properly ask Tomas out to be your date, Harumi hears everything about your dilemma.

"Well... why don't you hear him now?" Harumi asks. He waves the handmaiden over, telling her that she's ready for the men to come in.

Kuai Liang and Tomas walk inside, wearing the traditional attire of a Japanese groom and best man. While Harumi is practically drooling over Kuai Liang, you can't help but be breathless in front of the European.

"Hi..." Tomas waves awkwardly with one hand, his other hiding something behind his back.

You give him the same salutation, gripping the corsage against your yukata.

"We will be outside getting ready, but the procession can't start until our best man and maid of honor are ready," Harumi tells you both.

Harumi winks at you while Kuai Liang is giving his younger brother a knowing glance. Tomas just waves him out.

"You look... lovely," Tomas finally says, eyeing you up and down. "Your yukata is a flattering color."

He wasn't lying. Harumi went to great lengths finding you the perfect yukata in your favorite color. She even got the best tailor in the country to fit it well against your body.

"I uh, wanted to give you something-"

"Wait! I have something as well," Tomas interrupts. He pulls out the thing you had been seeing through the weekend, the vase with the wisterias and the baby's breath.

"Oh... Tomas they're beautiful," you barely whisper. "For me?"

He nods, pointing to the flowers as he explains, "Baby's breath symbolizes everlasting love, and wisterias represent grace."

He meets your eyes, and you can see a bit of red at the corners indicating his shyness.

"This is my graceful everlasting love to you, not only as a friend, but as a suitor, if you'll have me."

You take the flowers and set them down on the vanity, taking the note from his hand as well and replacing it with the thing Tomas had seen earlier in the week.

Tomas looks down, "The corsage? But I thought-."

You shake your head, "No you goof, it wasn't for anyone but you!"

You then begin to explain how you spoke to each man about your crush on Tomas, and how you were gathering ideas on a gift to pair with your declaration of love.

Kuai Liang's idea was the best, and he offered to go out with you to fulfill that. Silly Tomas.

You take the corsage and pin it to the hem of his yukata. The flowers you chose were a white peonies and dark purple violets.

"The peony represents beauty and the violets represent faithfulness. You are the faithful, beautiful, dutiful man who has captured my heart."

Tomas is wide-eyed, and you recover yourself before your shame can eat you alive.

"If you'll have me..." You don't need to ask twice before Tomas takes your hand in his, kissing the back of your hand as he nods to the door.

"Are you ready to accompany me, my consort?" Tomas asks.

You nod, "Gladly, my loving suitor."

=====================

5+1 fics are so funny, this also makes me miss weddings

see you guys in the next fic!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #x reader #mk1 2023 #tomas vrbada #smoke #smoke x reader #tomas x you #tomas x reader #tomas vrbada x you #tomas vrbada x reader #johnny cage #kung lao #mk raiden #kenshi takahashi

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volklana · 1 year ago

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Sihtric's Whore

Request: how about in season 3 when Sihtric 'betrays' Uhtred to go and spy on the danes, you try to stop him from taking the captives and then in the morning even though he doesn't mean it Uhtred scolds you in front of everyone for just 'letting him go'

Warning: Use of the word whore in a derogatory manner.

My very first time writing for this character I hope I did him justice.

Requests are open.

Sihtric was becoming more solemn with each sip, an uneasy expression crossing his face.

One you were not used to seeing, one that made you, in turn, uneasy.

Finan was barely able to stay awake, head propped up on his hand and you were yearning for Uhtred to finally release you all so you could away to bed.

Having checked on Osferth already, your eyes were heavy and your heart was weary, you would never admit to another soul that you had cried tears beside the sleeping baby monk earlier, death had come a little too close for your liking and until Skade had lifted her curse, you were afraid for your friends that it’s boney arms would try to snatch another one of them away before their time.

You released a breath you didn’t realise you were holding as Uhtred approached your table.

You watched in horror as the arguing began between Uhtred and Sihtric, reaching out a hand to stay Sihtric and shrinking when he swatted it away, as Uhtred got up to leave.

“Sihtric, you are drunk and tired,” Finan hissed and you silently urged Sihtric with your eyes not to continue down this path.

You were both equally horrified when Uhtred swung back around, informing Sihtric he was welcome to leave if he was unhappy in his service.

You and Finan were out of your seats quicker than the blink of an eye when Sihtric rounded on Unthred, raising his voice “I have fought for you!”

“Sihtric please, please don’t do this,” you pleaded, hands on his chest attempting to push him back towards his seat and he swung wildly free from your grasp with a snarl.

You turned, silently pleading with Uhtred when he spat “Stay or go I do not care,” you could not hide the hurt that etched across your face.

“He does not mean that. He does care.” Finan tried to appease, urging everyone to sit back down.

“If you wish to make the square Uhtred of Bebbanburgh, let us do it.”

“No,” you and Finan cried out in unison “There will be no squares made, no fighting, just sleep!” Finan pleaded.

After Uhtred’s threat to kill Sihtric if he was still here in the morning you heard your blood pound in your ears.

You scurried after Uhtred, catching him just as he made it outside.

“Uhtred,” you called but he made no reply “Lord,” you cried out this time more urgent and when he finally turned to face you, you could see the venom in his eyes.

“You can’t mean it, please?”

“Every word,” he spat “And if that displeases you little one, you may follow.”

You shrank back from him eyes stinging at the betrayal and burst your way back into the tavern.

You took a seat beside a defeated Finan. Sihtric was refusing to face either of you. Turning his attention instead to the Danes. You grasped at Finan’s hand a silent plea to reassure you that everything was going to be okay, and he shook his head, eyes softening when he took in your huge, worried ones staring back. He couldn’t reassure you, because he couldn’t even reassure himself.

You were sitting by Osferth’s side, sleep had long evaded you with the worry pitting in your stomach and for the first time in your life you prayed to the gods that morning would not come, your only hope at preventing the inevitable fall out from this night.

You saw the flicker of shadows and the muffled sound of steps pass Osferth’s window and realised with a start that the Danes were escaping and grabbing your sword you set off in pursuit, you arrived just as Sihtric was about to mount his horse.

“Sihtric,” you cried out in disbelief “What is this?” You demanded, angrily holding the sword up to his chest, whilst the rest of the Danes looked on.

You watched as his expression hardened “I am leaving, as has been commanded,” he spat.

“You began this course, Sihtric. I begged you. As I am begging you now. Please do not do this.”

“It is done,” he said with a finality, eyes softening only for a second when he registered the tears in your eyes.

“Put down the sword, y/n,” he urged, grasping your weapon by the blade and easing it down, “We both know you will not harm me. I leave tonight, come with me if you wish. You know I will care for you and keep you safe but I will offer this only once.”

“You know I can’t,” you cried begging him with your eyes “Please stay here. With me,”

“You know I can’t,” he countered softly, before his eyes hardened again, “Stay with Uhtred or come with me. Make your decision now and make it quick.”

You shook your head as tears freely slipped down your face and he nodded with a snarl, before turning and mounting his horse “And so you have made it, as I have made mine,” he kicked his horse into action and you watched in horror as the Danes did the same, leaving you amidst the chaos of hooves and dust.

Finan burst into your room at first light and one look at your disheveled appearance told him everything he needed to know.

“I couldn’t stop him,” you cried into his chest “He wouldn’t stay.”

“Hush now, it’s alright,” the Irish man soothed rubbing patterns onto your back “You’re alright. I’ve got ya.”

Osferth was well enough to make it to the Alehouse and was delighting in having you and Finan fetch him anything he needed, namely ale.

Silence descended when Uhtred returned back, as he and Finan embraced and he informed him Sihtric was gone, you watched in silence as he embraced Osferth and then his eyes like lightning found yours, and you quickly turned your gaze to the floor.

“I tried to stop him lord,” was all you could mutter.

“You let him escape,” he answered back quickly “And the prisoners,”

“Yes, lord,” you confirmed and he made a tutting noise, followed by a long sigh.

“She was one girl against a band of Danes,” Osferth argued on your behalf

“She was one girl, in love with one Dane,” Uhtred fired back and you felt your body light on fire with shame amidst the laughter that broke out among the men.

Your voice shook as you wrung your hands together “But I chose you, and I won’t fail you again lord,”

Uhtred softened at this, his expression melting, and he nodded your way with a soft, reassuring smile before he pulled you into a quick embrace.

“It is done, little one,” he whispered affectionately and you felt the weight of seven worlds fall off your shoulders.

Sihtric’s betrayal, the men and Osferth to your horror were calling it. As though Uhtred was the Christian nailed god, and Sihtric were Judas, you knew thirty pieces of silver had not been exchanged but maybe that would have made his desertion somewhat more understandable than a few heated words. But if Uhtred was Christ and Sihtric was Judas, you had become Mary Magdalene, the whore of the story. Sihtric’s whore to be precise, that’s what some of the men had taken to sneering at you, and one even spat as you were readying your horse to ride to the Dane camp alongside Uhtred, “Sihtric’s whore.”

You hunkered down in the overgrowth amongst the men watching the Dane camp, heart hammering in your chest. You knew Sihtric was within the camp and you knew that there would be no hesitation to kill him from the group of men you lay beside. You had tried to convince yourself that you would be able to hurt him if it came to it, but you knew deep down you would rather run the blade through yourself than harm him. Even after it all. Even now.

It was Finan who had sat beside you last night, your eyes tired and face gaunt and he bumped your shoulder in his merry way before taking your hand in his. Sometimes you thought Finan was the only one who truly saw how much you were suffering Sihtric’s loss.

Truth be told he had been teasing Sihtric for months about you, any man would have to be blind to not see the way Sihtric looked at you. He was your shadow ever since the day you joined the group. Always by your side, always prepared to help you up or down from your horse. He never returned with a mug of ale for himself, without one for you too.He always strategically set your tent up closer to the fire, sneaking you more furs and food rations when he thought you weren’t looking.

Finan had been sure the Dane was smitten by you, and he watched your regard for the Dane grow by the day. You tended all his wounds with tender hands and you oftentimes braided his hair, humming softly to yourself as your hands worked gently through his soft curls. In the evenings of merriment, he would watch your body lean almost subconsciously towards Sihtric and your eyes, half-hooded, always seemed to be memorizing his face when he wasn’t looking at you.

“You know he’s going to be there,” he murmured softly and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“I know,” you sniffed resolutely, “I’ve made my peace with it, and should the moment arise I am prepared.”

Finan squeezed your hand again once for good measure and left you with your mug of ale.

“Someone’s coming!” Finan shushed and a hush ran through your camp.

“It is Sihtric,” Osferth gasped and you felt your stomach drop to your toes.

“You have something to say to me boy?” Uhtred demanded and Sihtric approached further, steely determination across the features you knew so well.

“Yield to me,” he commanded and pressed his sword towards Uhtred’s chest, you were sprung like a coil ready to unleash if needed you watched Finan do the same. You were reminded of that night in the alehouse when you and Finan had acted in unison to try to prevent this.

You watched in horror as Uhtred and Sihtric erupted into laughter and moved to embrace each other, amidst Osferth’s joyful announcing that they had been playing you all.

“I fooled you,” Sihtric beamed to Finan who was almost stuttering in disbelief claiming to have known it was all a jest all along. Finan, Osferth and Sihtric took their turns embracing each other but you were rooted to the spot. You felt the world spinning like you were going to be sick and you pushed yourself through the men until you breached the last line and you were spilling your guts out onto the forest floor.

A pair of mismatched eyes searched the crowd for you, his face scrunching when he was unable to find you, and then turned his attention back to Uhtred as they formulated their plan for the night.

“You’ve never failed me Sihtric, I will see you at the tree,” you heard Uhtred utter proudly and then your legs gave way.

It was Finan who found you trembling at the back of the pack,“Good jaysus,” he mumbled before hoisting you up and patting you down before Uhted called him away. There would be time to sort this all out once this night had passed.

You followed through the long grass, fleeing to the ships following Sihtric’s lead. Uhtred had secured Skade and you were being pursued by Haeston’s Danes. You cut down any Dane who stood between you and the ship, jumping with ease and landing into strong arms that pulled you to the safety within, you punched at Sihtric's chest urging him to let go and were glad when he relented, turning instead to steady the men who were fleeing onboard. You pulled with all your might under Finan’s shouted orders, boring daggers into the back of the man you loved sitting in front of you.

Osferth was too weak too row and your arms were screaming with pain, having rowed through the night. The oars were beginning to blister your hands but you refused to give in.

Sihtric had tried to sneak glances over his shoulder at you but you refused to meet his eye. Instead turning all your anger and wasted worry into ensuring you kept rowing.

Your aching body was relieved to finally moor in Coccham, swatting Sihtric’s hand away as he attempted to help you from the boat.

“Please, y’n,” he muttered, trying to to meet your eye, but relented when you pushed by him, icy anger in your veins.

As you began the ride back to Winchester you were solemn. You had barely spoken a word to anyone and Finan regarded you with worry across his features.

“You could have told her,” Finan swiped at Sihtric, “Of all of us, you could have told her.”

“How could I?” Sihtric sighed, running a tired hand across his face.

“You didn’t see the way the men treated her for allowing you to escape.”

Sihtric froze, eyes wild, urging Finan to continue.

“They called her whore Sihtric. Your whore. They thought she had betrayed Uhted and she thought she had too. She barely ate or slept, and now you turn up and all is forgiven, But she has endured the brunt of yours and Uhtred’s decisions.”

Sihtric watched you ride wearily, he could see the defeat in the way you held yourself and he wanted nothing more than to take back all the hurt he had caused you, but he startled at the thought that you might not let him.

In Winchester you all settled in the alehouse, the lodgings above adequate enough for the rest you needed, You barely picked at the stew you were given and Finan took the spot beside you.

“Lady,” he sighed “You need to eat, come on, even just a few spoonfuls more.”

You shook your head and he grabbed the spoon, diving it into the food and bringing it up towards your mouth “Come ooon,” he urged “Look how delicious this is, open up that pretty mouth of yours and take a bite.” You couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped your lips when he all but shoved the spoon into your mouth and he quickly chased it with another.

“Finan, you are feeding me like a mother feeds a babe,” you giggled, the first time he had heard that sound in weeks.

“Well be and good babe, and take another bite, and I will stop mothering you.”

You swiped your spoon back and finished off the rest of your bowl.

“Happy, mother hen?” you teased and he wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“Happy,” he conceded.

“Finan,” you sighed and he hummed and you scooted up in your seat to rest your body against his, taking the hint he wrapped his arms around you, placing his chin on your head, pulling you closer.

“You were the only one who stood by me. You stopped me from falling apart.”

“Nothing you haven’t done for me a thousand times over, love.” he all but whispered into your hair.

Someone clearing their throat pulled your attention away from Finan’s warmth and you were shocked to see a rather meek looking Sihtric standing at the table, a bunch of flowers in hand.

“Can I talk with you lady? Please?” he begged.

Finan gave you a reassuring tap and slid away from you.

“Outside?” he begged again.

And even though you didn’t want to, your feet were moving of their own accord.

You walked a little in silence together and eventually you realised you were going to have to make the first move.

“Sihtric, can you please just say whatever it is you wish to say to me, I am cold and I am tired.”

It was like he was burned into action, shrinking off his cloak and wrapping it around your shoulders before you could protest, and he all but pressed the flowers into your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered gently “I am sorry for leaving you. For allowing all the blame to be placed upon your shoulders and I am sorry for demanding you choose between Uhtred and I.”

“Why did you do it?” you pleaded and he wanted to drop to his knees before you.

“I hoped..I hoped you would choose me. I would have confessed it all to you if you had come. But I understand why you could not.”

“They called me your whore Sihtric,” you cried, unable to stop the tears welling in your eyes, “And now you press these flowers into my hand and you say you are sorry but I have come to realise that maybe..maybe my regard for you is stronger than yours for me and I am no longer willing to be Sihtric’s whore.”

The name was especially unfair, when you considered you had never so much as pressed your lips to Sihtric’s, let alone lay with him.

“You are no whore,” Sihtric spat, sinking to his knees in front of you, “But I am a fool, that is true. A coward who should have told you long before this day that you are the light of my life. Ever since the day we met I have loved you and if you think I do not regard you in the highest form possible, you are wrong.”

You bit at your lip, allowing the tears to fall freely now.

“I have asked for Uhtred’s permission, and now I ask for yours, forget the name Sihtric’s whore and become Sihtric’s wife. Let me never leave you in doubt of my devotion to you again. Let me worship you. Let me be loyal to you. Let me fight for you. Let me love you.”

He moved closer to you on his knees, grasping your hips in his hands resting his head against your stomach “Let us raise pups who look like me but have all the best of you. Let me love you.” he repeated “Be my wife.”

“You hurt me, Sihtric.” you all but whimpered, but already your free hand was tracing the scar across his face tenderly all resolve melting.

“I hurt you this once my love and I will never, ever hurt you again. On Thor’s hammer,” he grasped at the pendant he wore around his neck and his two mismatched eyes bore up into your own.

“Be my wife.” he pleaded again.

“Sihtric’s wife,” you repeated and you were nodding furiously “Yes, yes Sihtric I will be your wife.”

He rose up furiously to crush his lips against yours, pulling you off your feet as he swung you around, the flowers falling from your grasp as you laughed through the tears.

“You are really mine?” you cried cupping his grinning face in your hands.

“From the moment I met you, I have been yours.”

Tagging: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @shamrockqueen @canyonmoon-2

#sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #sihtric x you

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demilypyro · 2 hours ago

Note

Which of the Sirens is your favourite out of the ones we’ve met so far?

Gotta be Maya. Lilith in Borderlands 1 was cool but she was very much the "girl vault hunter" whereas Maya felt more distinct as a character, with her backstory of having left an order of monks, and setting herself apart as a very wise and book-smart character compared to the rest of the cast. She has a cool, confident and sometimes smug vibe, and I really like her outfit, with the fancy looking combat bodysuit balanced with the practical looking pants. Just a really strong design, really strong characterization.

Amara from BL3 is pretty cool but I never completed a full playthrough as her, I always played Moze and didn't replay BL3 much. Vex in Borderlands 4 looks really good, I'm planning to play her on my first playthrough.

Angel is aight. Tyreen could've been cool if she'd had better writing.

#borderlands 2 #bl2 #maya the siren

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newkatzkafe2023 · 8 months ago

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How about monkey y/n as lady dimitrescu with the same powers and all (you can add her daughters or not if you want)

Whoa Short man Tall woman😳🫨

(Lmk Wukong) His Nerves are shot, infront of him was a 9 foot tall vampire monkey. He's not sure if he should be scare or turned on, but he's still very excited to meet you as he thought you were very beautiful and elegant to him. Then you had demonstrated motherly traits to your daughters, and your vampire strength to lift him off the ground with ease. Yup he's a goner🫨😳

(MKR Wukong) He stood there froze and he looked up at you, he had a blank face but his tail was wagging so fast that it could take him off the ground. He met you when the monk needed a place to stay for the night they would set up camp, but it's was raining that night, so you had graciously let them stay. When Wukong got a good look at you, he was in a state of shock and attraction and once you picked him up with little to no effort it was over for him😳😳😳

(HIB Wukong) Your hight makes him feel some type of way, and he's not sure that he likes that. He was nervous because you seem so dignified and fancy he feels that maybe he shouldn't be hanging around you. Although your kids definitely getting along with each other despite the age differences, your daughters loved Luier's curiosity and Silly girls spunky traits. His kids remain you very much of your daughters, and you like him too.

(NR Wukong) HE'LL SCREAM STEP ON ME!!!! and he will say thank you for it. Not to mention you can Lift him off the ground with ease, you had his heart beating right out of his chest at your inhumane strength and sharp claws. You are just a smoking hot extremely powerful single mom, and he loves it more then anything.

(Netflix Wukong) He's giggling and blushing around you while playing with his fur, as you tower over him. He immediately had a big crush on you when you and your daughters were on vacation. he also immediately went and gave your family a tour of his home as he bragged about himself to you trying desperately to impress you although you found him cute from the very start.

(BMW Wukong) He got an eyeful of your long sharp claws he was already imagining putting a ring our one of them. You are usually so proper and patient with everything you do in your life and you gave the same lessons to your just as beautiful daughters. You were also an incredibly powerful vampire monkeys, which up his attraction to you by the second.

(Destined one) He became a blushing chirping monkey, the very first time he met you. You were beautiful, strong, and Waaaay taller then him. He felt like a little boy getting caught Staring at the girl he likes, and the good news is you found him to be adorable too. You were tall, beautiful, elegant and had demonstrated inhumane strength for a vampire monkey and he's okay with spending time with your rather chatty daughters.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🧛‍♀️

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #x female y/n #black myth wukong #the destined one x reader #Resident evil #lady dimitrescu #resident evil the village

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

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Now and at the Hour of His Death

prompt: any who say, "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," were never loved by him.

pairing: Osferth x female!pregnant!wife!reader

fandom: The Last Kingdom

word count: 6.1k+

note: fuck you, Netflix.

warnings: you already know - author needs therapy, projects hard, pregnant wife, Lord’s name in vain, Christianity (obviously), and a fuck ton of fucking ANGST because fuck your feelings. hurt NO comfort, drama, oneshot, cursing, canon-typical violence, injury, and blood. character death and spoilers - yeah, i'm giving you THAT scene. requires maturity and caution. good luck.

also please note: NO, i do not age Osferth to be 16 - that's just a reference age for when he eventually runs away from the monastery.

again, you are missing nothing if this upsets or triggers you and you choose to skip. value your wellbeing, my angels. author is not responsible for the media YOU choose consume, but still, as usual, MDNI

"You should not be doing this sort of work," Ingrith's voice scolded you, and when you turned, you saw the blonde woman standing with her hip cocked and a stern expression. "It's bad for your health to be in such filth, we've stable boys for this sort of chore."

"I do not mind," you sniffled in the brisk air, shoveling the horse shit of the stable into a muck bucket to be dumped into the fields later. "It keeps me busy," you grunted lightly, sure to bend your knees when lifting the pitchfork, "keeps me humble," you listed, dumping the waste to grin at your friend, "and keeps me young."

"In what way?"

"Reminds me of my childhood," you eased, continuing your work. "I slept in a stable from the ages of 4 to... Oh, shit, I guess I was about 16 before I left The Loft."

"What?" She breathed in confusion. "Never knew that."

"Yeah, yeah, true story," you beamed at her, still shoveling shit. "I slept in the stalls with the horses, sometimes in the grain rooms - basically anywhere I could since my work didn't include official room and board, so, I had to make do with what was available. Then, one day when I was about ten, Old Man Rivers said I could use the hay loft if I cleared it out, fixed the rotten planks. Stayed up there till I was about 16, and after that, I kinda ran away."

"Old Man Rivers?"

You nodded, "My mother lived on his homestead, but she was real sick, you see. So, he kinda took me in without assuming responsibility for me," you cleared your throat, shrugging, "let me stay in his barn if I worked with the horses and livestock for him."

"Why would you want to be reminded of that?"

"Seems simpler when I look back."

Ingrith sighed, "C'mon, put the pitchfork down. Come help me prepare the rabbits. The scouts say the men aren't too far off, they'll want a hot meal."

You chuckled with ease and set your pitchfork aside, giving a hearty pat to one of the horse's necks as you passed by to exit the stable. Ingrith made sure you washed up before you were both mounting rabbits on the rack to start skinning them.

"Could I ask something?" She wondered after a time.

"Anything you'd like."

"Why'd you run away? From Old Man Rivers?"

You laughed, "I was in love."

"Oh, you and Baby Monk go that far back, huh?"

"Try even farther," you teased. "Our mothers were friends, and when I worked in the stable, he was in the monastery, but when he came to me, saying he couldn't do it any longer, I couldn't let him go alone. Life was supposed to offer more than what we were given, so, we set out to find the legendary barbarian, The Dane Slayer," you teased, both giggling, "our Lord, the legendary, Uhtred of Bebbanburg."

"And all this time...?" She smiled, watching you shuck hide like you've done it your whole life. Ingrith inferred you probably did.

"Yeah," you eased, "all this time, he's been by my side. Kept me close, never left me behind. The others weren't too sure about me on account of being a woman, they told us to piss off a few times - but they came around after Osferth refused to send me away."

"He's a good lad, Osferth," she nodded.

"Arguably one of the best ones," you agreed, nudging her arm gently, "but look who I'm telling, right?"

"Oh!" She giggled, swatting at you loosely before going back to your work for a moment. Suddenly, the townspeople of Rumcofa stirred to life, and over the voices, you heard them announcing their Lord's return - which meant all of your men were home. You both grinned and breathlessly left your post, Ingrith pausing a young lad to ask, "How many return to us?"

"Does it matter? Come, c'mon, let us see ourselves!" You all but squealed, overwhelmed with excitment; eager for your own reunion with the man you've loved since you were a young lass.

"Warn the alehouse!" Finan was heard shouting. "Osferth's thirsty!"

"Jesus," you laughed, dodging around the procession of people waiting to greet their warriors on their return home so you could approach the white gelding your husband rode.

His face was absolutely priceless when he caught sight of you. As Osferth eagerly dismounted, your hands smoothed over the small swell of your belly - purposefully wearing a dress that accentuated your ever-changing figure. "Am I dreaming?" He laughed, a stablehand taking hold of his horse so his hands were free to caress your belly. "Oh, my God, I'm not, 's real, oh, God," he beamed, laughing with you. "You're pregnant? Truly? Yes? I-I am not - I am not being deceived?"

"No, my love, I guess our prayers were finally heard."

"OH-HOOOO!" You heard Finan holler as Osferth finally pulled you in for a sweet kiss; both ignoring the Irishman. "Lord! LORD! Uhtred! Hey! Did you hear!? Baby Monk's got some spunk in 'im afta all!"

"Oh, God," you laughed against Osferth's lips, but he was quick to shush you with another breath-stealing kiss.

"A baby Baby Monk! AHA!" Finan was still laughing, your husband's hands caressing both your cheeks when he pulled back just in time for Finan to descend. You grunted lightly when his heavy arms dropped over both yours and Osferth's shoulders, his laugh still booming as he gave a squeeze and cooed, "Oh, congratulations, yah two love birds! Wasn't sure you had it innyah, boy!"

"Don't be so rough with her, Finan, for God's sake," Osferth scolded, nudging his friend to get out from under his arm.

"What?" Finan looked at you gobsmacked. "Sayin' I gotta treat yah different now or somethin'?"

"I didn't say that," you told him prettily with fluttering lashes, fist quickly balling up to jab him in the weak spot of his armor - making him grunt and wheeze. "Aht-aht!" You warned with a pointed finger when he flinched as if to retaliate, "Can't hit a pregnant woman."

"Oh, yeh li'l shite," Finan laughed, Osferth pushing him towards his wife so he could stand in front of you and command all attention.

Osferth took a moment to simply look at you; thumbs gently tracing over your cheeks in sweeping motions, a slow grin breaking across his lips. "This almost doesn't feel real... But how I have to praise God for this blessing. A baby," he breathed.

"A little you and me," you agreed softly. "Sound okay to you?"

"More than okay," he chuckled, pecking your lips, "sounds like a lifetime together."

"Good by me." His nose nuzzled up yours, the sweet moment broken when he sighed sadly; eyes shut and smile dropping. "What is it? What's wrong, love?" You asked, stepping into his embrace so you were nuzzled into his neck and his arms were wrapped around your form in a vice.

"Uhtred means to move us again," he whispered in your ear. "Brida, she... She's got Father Pyrlig, and - "

"What!?" You snapped, rearing back slightly to pin him under your hardened glare. Pregnancy hormones would surely give Osferth whiplash.

"My love, I did not - "

"Brida's got Pyrlig? Fuck are we standin' here for, let's go!" You reached for his hand, ready to march off.

"Uh, no, no, no, no," he pulled you back to him; anchoring his hands on your hips so you could not escape. "You are not going anywhere. Not now - especially now," he glanced at your still-growing bump. "The men will go, you know we will return, but you have this new responsibility, and that's keeping this little one safe. For us," he smiled at you.

You huffed, "I'm not unfit to do what needs done, Osferth."

"I did not say you were unfit, but look at the timing of it," he frowned. "I should've been here when you learned, but I was not, and I am truly so sorry for it. Look, I do not know how long this venture will be, but you know I will return. We've waited for our family for far too long, I will not jeopardize this - so I will return. If you go with us, and something were to happen," he shook his head, "my angel, I would never forgive myself. So I need you to stay here, stay safe, if for nothing else but for me."

"But Pyrlig - "

"Will be saved," he assured.

"And Brida - "

"Will be dealt with," he eased, chuckling lightly. "My angel, you worry too much about everyone and yet never about yourself."

You pouted, "Well, why is it just me meant to stay back? This is your child, too, Osferth, and should have the right to meet them! You can't always control what happens, accidents are real, what if you don't return - "

"Don't think like that - "

"But it's a real threat to us - "

He agreed, "Of course, but - "

"Yeah, I know," you nodded, cutting him off, "we serve Lord Uhtred. This comes first, and I'm not - "

"I've made a vow to him."

"You made one to me, too, you know."

"Angel, please, don't do this. Do not ask me to choose," he begged with a frown, and you caved.

So, with a sigh, you nuzzled into his embrace and relented, "All right, yes, fine, go after Brida and Pyrlig. And when you find them, tell him I am waiting for his safe return, he is dearly missed. Ideally, I'd have him birth our child."

"Of course," he breathed, finding a small reprieve of relief that you did not fight him further about leaving - about choosing which vow to fulfill: the one to his Lord Uhtred or the one to his wife.

Both made to God.

Luckily, Osferth married his best friend and you were never one to pick fights with him. You liked the harmony you had; the peaceful environment you had both cultivated to preserve the trust and love you built through the years. He was genuinely one of a kind; a man who walked many lines between faith, humanity, right, wrong. He was the voice of reason, constantly striving to do better than he did before, learning all he could as if a rag soaking in water. For all he was, Osferth has always been enough for you, and for that reason alone, you never felt the need to argue.

To fight. To voice contempt.

"Question," you perked up, smirking at him as your pregnancy symptoms ran a little wild, "think we've time to, you know, really give our thanks?"

"Angel - "

"What?" You grinned. "You fucked me on the alter all those weeks ago and look - your seed stuck. We might as well go give thanks in the same manner, just to really show God how thankful we are for this blessing he's given us."

"Think the Devil's gotten into you," he laughed.

"Or your child is ruining my hormones," you countered, his lips meeting yours in another passionate display of his excitement.

"C'mon," he whispered, taking your hand, and leading you to the chapel - thinking you were being sneaky, but your matching giggles made Ingrith and Finan beam at each other.

"He does know she can't get more pregnant, right?" Finan teased, flinching when Ingrith smacked his upper arm.

"WHY!?"

"My angel, please - "

"What the fuck is going on, Osferth!?"

"I'm trying to explain - "

"The Queen? The fucking Queen is dead in our village! How can that possibly be explained!?" When Osferth didn't answer, just sat in the wooden chair before the shared hearth of your humble home, you snapped, "Well!?"

"Are you finished? May I speak now?"

With a huff, you nodded and gestured for him to speak; arms crossing around your swollen tits. He explained to you the reason for Haesten's arrival, the wagon his men toted, and why he brought the Queen's dead body to the settlement of Rumcofa. He told you Haesten wanted to keep the peace when King Edward found out, claiming Uhtred's son-in-law, Stiorra's husband, Sigtryggr, had ordered this death - thinking war would surely roll over his lands.

You never knew Haesten to be a generous man, nor much of an honest one, but it seemed the severity of the situation made everyone eerily on-edge. Uhtred dispatched his men; leaving Finan and Osferth in the village with you, developing a plan that would save both Saxon and Danish life. And yet, it was all futile when evil forces worked against good.

You didn't feel safe in Rumcofa anymore, there was a stench in the air; tension that mounted to embrace all residents with discomfort. Something was about to happen, but nobody knew what. You didn't claim or pretend to know what was happening, but Haesten's abrupt appearance spelled danger for everyone involved. So, as a security measure, you kept a long sword buckled around your swelling waist and a dagger strapped under your skirts. With Lord Uhtred gone, there was no invisible fence protecting Rumcofa - leaving it up to you, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf to pose as guard.

Yet you'd never be enough.

Like the surf over sand, a group of angered men descended on Rumcofa. "Who's men are yah?" Finan asked, you lingering at Osferth's side to watch the interaction from a short distance.

"We come from the King," a burly Saxon replied, your head cocking in interest - swearing you've seen him before. "Dane murderers are hiding here and you must hand them over."

"You're mistaken, sir," you kindly offered, the man's eyes shifting over you, "because we live in peace. Any murderers have surely moved on from here. We do not host them."

The man growled, "Don't think that's true, love."

Finan held a hand back at you, meeting your eyes and nodding simply. He turned back for the man in fur, diverting, "Of course, my men will attend to it."

Finan turned from the group, his eyes connecting with yours as he passed by. There was urgency, a quickened pace he adopted; having no intention to hand anyone over, wanting to remove these men without bloodshed. However, that was a distant thought because Father Benedict tried to assure the Saxon leader that nobody in Rumcofa would murder Queen Aelflaed.

You wanted to step in when the Saxon evidently didn't know about the Queen's demise - getting in Benedict's face and demanding to see what he spoke of.

"No, no, no," you muttered nervously, "he can't see the body, love, no, no, no, this is bad. Very bad."

"We can't stop Father Benedict without altercation," Osferth whispered back, keeping a tight hold of your hand, just watching the group. "If something happens, you need to get yourself safe."

"How do we truly know they're from Edward? What credentials do they have?" When Osferth shook his head, you worried, "Got a bad feeling 'bout this, angel."

Then the violence began.

The strange men took charge when their leader walked away, starting to physically harass the citizens; making both you and Osferth step in to try and diffuse the tension. You pushed men off unarmed women, got in between them and the children, did what you could without drawing a weapon.

When a man shoved you away from him, Finan wrangled him away, sneering, "Get yer hands off of her!" He kept the violent men at bay for a moment, telling you, "You need to go, darling - "

"Not now, Fin, look around us! We need to contain the situation, you'll need all hands you can get," You snapped, the two of you forced to part way.

Osferth panted nervously and looked left and right, turning to meet the Saxon and demand, "Tell your men to stand down!" But then, his eyes squinted when you joined his side to pull him back a step or two, recognizing him just as you did.

"I don't think they're here for the Queen, love," you heaved for breath in warning, still backing him up. "They've planned this."

"Finan!" Osferth barked, "These men have been here before!"

The Saxon roared over the fray, "Danes of Rumcofa have murdered our Queen!" His men jeered in anger, making Finan brandish both swords and for Osferth to push you back further from the attention. "Do your duty and rid the cockles from the wheat!"

You were left no choice. Osferth and you both armed yourselves, starting to fight off the Saxons as their leader demanded Danes and Christians be separated. You were unable to help, engaged in battle, but Young Uhtred gathered the Danes and begged Father Benedict to declare the church a sanctuary - thinking it would save lives.

It was only leading the Danes to slaughter.

The Saxon, Bresal, punched Father Benedict when he tried to stand in the way; his men holding Young Uhtred in the doorway to let their men enter the church the Danes were gathered in. They forced Young Uhtred to watch the massacre - men, women, and Danish children all slaughtered with no escape. No hope. No answer to a single prayer. Nobody to stop this bloody situation.

You fought on, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf doing their best to protect you by keeping you in the middle of their wee group. But you still got plenty of action.

"This is madness!" You cried out, slicing a man's throat open. "We need aid! We need more men!"

"This way!" Finan encouraged, "We must cut a path for Ingrith! Check the docks! Check the docks!"

You and Osferth ran towards the water, Cynleaf not far away. You searched for Ingrith, but you had no time to linger; engaged one-on-one again, forced to protect yourself and unborn baby. Not a minute later, you saw Ingrith on horseback, being stalled by a Saxon and for your husband to rush to her aid. He punched the man away from the horse, you hacking at another enemy, in time to see Osferth engaging with two Saxons - one being the leader, Bresal.

It all happened so fast.

You were already racing towards them when the unexpected. Osferth was battling on two fronts, holding Bresal at bay, fending off the other Saxon, screaming for Ingrith, who only managed a few paces before the Saxon's dogs spooked her horse. The noise was deafening; people screaming, crying, dogs barking, horses whinnying, swords singing as they clashed.

You watched it happen in slow motion.

You sprinted faster than ever before.

"INGRITH!" Osferth bellowed in worry when her horse reared back and dropped her to the dirt. It left an opening for Bresal to stab his dagger into Osferth's lung - freezing time and wrecking your world.

"NO!" You screamed, Bresal smirking at you and yanking his dagger free. Osferth wobbled, eyes wide as he met yours, the Saxon walking away as Osferth dropped to his knees. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Oh, God, no, no, you can't take him - not yet! Please, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," You repeated, sliding on your knees in the dirt to catch him. "No, no, oh, my God, no, Osferth, no, please! Not now, not now, please, no, God, no! Don't do this! Please, please, please," you rambled, readjusting to better hold him, hearing Cynleaf and Finan yell for Baby Monk, too. You raged at God, "You can't take him yet! You can't have him! He's mine!"

But you heard nothing except your husband's labored breathing.

"An-Angel, angel, my angel," Osferth choked, wheezing and crying as he couldn't hold himself up and completely slumped back into your body. He pawed at your arms in an attempt to get closer.

"No, no, no, you're all right, you're okay, you're okay, my sweet love, you're all right," you insisted, hands stained in his blood as it poured from his wound. You knew it was essential to add pressure to a wound, but also, that this was all futile. Yet you needed to try. "Hey, hey, hey, look at me, just look at me, sweetheart, please, only look at me, nothing else matters," you pleaded with him in a rush, the lads sprinting to where you held your husband to your lap.

Nobody interrupted you.

"Where's the wound?" Osferth sobbed, trembling, blood spurting from his mouth; going paler by the minute. "Angel, please, the wound? Where's the wound?"

"No, no, no, don't worry 'bout that, hey? Don't you worry, you just keep looking at me," you sobbed, holding his neck and cradling him to your swollen belly. "Just at me, my love, okay? Just look at me - don't look anywhere else, okay? Nothing else matters."

"H-How bad? How ba-ba-bad-bad is i-it?"

"You're going to be all right," you lied to Osferth for the first time.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God," Osferth repeated through his tears and fears, "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die."

He held onto you desperately, sobbing, you slowly rocking. "No, you're all right, Osferth, it's okay, just look at me." You caressed his cheek, smearing blood, but locking eyes. "My love," you whispered, "listen to me - "

"I don't wanna die, please, please, angel, my love, please," he coughed, holding your arm tightly as if it would give him life. "Don't let me die," he wheezed, "don't let me die, my love, please, please. Don't let me die, I don't wanna die. I-I wanna meet our baby, please, I want to meet our baby, I want to be a father. Don't let me die, love, please, I-I wanna be your husband longer - "

"You'll never not be my husband and you'll never not be a father, hear me?" You sniffled, trying to smile at him. "Don't you worry, you're gonna be okay, you're okay, Osferth. You'll always be my husband, nothing will change that - I swear."

Blood pumped with each beat of his frantic heart, making it gush over your fingers. You didn't even feel it.

"Please," he choked, more blood bubbling from his lips, "don't let me die, I don't wanna die. Don't let me die, please, not now, not when our baby isn't here yet, please, I just wanna meet 'em, be a family, I wanna stay with you, don't let me go. Please, don't let me go, I don't want t'go! Don't let me - "

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here with you. I'm right here, Osferth, you're not alone, you're never alone. I'm here. I've got you. I'll always have you, I won't ever let you go. Never."

He sobbed harder. "I don't wanna leave you. Please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be without you - " But the words choked him, a splatter spraying across your face when he coughed; you didn't even flinch.

"Listen to me," you begged, "I commend you, my dear, sweet husband, to Almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator."

Finan was heard behind you, retching jarring sobs as you read Osferth his death rite prayer. "Don't let me die," Osferth begged still, as if you held that power.

He had always looked at you as if you hung the sun and stars, and now, as if you were his very reason for living. You hated God in that moment for forcing you two through this.

"May you return to Him who formed you from the dust of the earth. May Holy Mary, the angels," now, you choked on your words, emotion clawing your throat, but still continued, "and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace." You sobbed, "May Christ who died for you admit you into His garden of paradise. May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of His flock. May He forgive all your sins, and set you among those He has chosen. Amen. Please, please, say amen, Osferth, say it, please!"

"A-Amen - Amen!" He coughed, trying to get closer to you, nestling into your warmth as he felt impossibly cold. "Don't leave me, don't leave me, please, please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be alone. I can't go without you, please, don't let me go - don't let me die, angel, please, I can't go without you. I-I’ve never been without you my whole life, I don’t wish to start now. I love you. I-I love you, please, don't let me go, I love you. I need you."

"You'll never be without me," you promised, face coated in blood, grime, dirt, and ash; all streaked with your tear tracks. "You will always be my husband, hey? Hear me? You're always gonna be with me, I will never be apart from you. I'll love you forever, Osferth, I won't ever stop." You felt your chest cave in as you sobbed, "Please, don't you leave me - "

But Osferth was wheezing and panting, only staring up at you. "I only need you," he whimpered, "I've only ever needed you, I can't do this without you. Please, I can't - I can't go without you. I don't want to leave you, I can't leave you, please!'

"So don't leave me," you sobbed, him still clawing at you in desperation. "I love you more than life, Osferth, please, don't leave me, okay? Don't go. I love you so much. Being loved by you was my greatest pleasure in this life, I want our child to know your love, too, Osferth, please, don't go."

"I-I wanna meet our baby, I wanna hold 'em, love 'em," he repeated. "Please, this can't be the end, don't let this be the end. W-We have so much more - we were supposed to have eternity together, my love, my angel, please! This isn't the end, I can't - I can't go without you!"

"You're okay," you soothed uselessly, rocking more prominently. "Just stay with me, my love, okay? Stay with me. Don't go. Only look at me, all right? You hear me?" You sniffled, caressing his cheek. "You're the best thing in my life, Osferth, yeah? Understand me? Where you're going, y-you'll be welcomed a hero, with open arms. You'll be my own angel. My real angel. The reason I keep going for our child. An-And you'll stay there just for a little while until I join you, okay? You'll watch over us, me and the baby, right? Our own angel? Hey? 'Cause you'll never be part from us - you'll never be apart from me. You and I are a forever sorta thing, we'll never be apart, we'll always be part of each other no matter what."

Osferth lost his words, eyes widening and pulling you closer.

You just soothed, "I'm here with you, my love. I'm here, I've got you. You're not alone, I'm right here, I have you. I've got you. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Osferth, okay? I love you more than anything, you're my everything. I love you," you sniffled, breaking down in worse sobs, repeating, "I love you, I love you, I love you so much, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't faster, I love you, this shouldn't be happening. I'm so sorry, I should've come faster! I love you, I'm so sorry."

With his last breath, Osferth choked, "L-Love y-y-you."

"I love you," you hushed, bending at the waist to rest your forehead on his, "I love you so much. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be all right, you'll be safe - where you're going, you'll be safe. I'm so sorry, my love... I'm so sorry."

You felt him go still. You felt the last of his breath exhale, his body deflate. You felt his soul detach from his body.

You froze.

"Oh, my God," you breathed, pulling back to look down at his petrified features. "Oh, my God, no, no, no. God, please, please, give him back," you sobbed, "give him back to me! Do not take him! It's not his time, you selfish cunt! Give him back! It wasn't supposed to end like this! Give him back to me, please! Please! This isn't how this was supposed to happen! We promised eternity together, please! Let us have that! Let us be together, give him back to me! I need him!"

Your shrill hysterics were heard all over Rumcofa.

Finan sobbed into his wife's arms behind you, Cynleaf knelt to slowly extend his hand onto your shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he offered, but you pushed him away harshly; knocking him into the dirt.

"No! I don't want your fucking condolences!" You snapped, holding Osferth tighter, "I want my husband! I want my husband back! Can you give him to me? Can you, Cynleaf? Can you give him back to me!?"

"No - "

"Then you have nothing to offer me! I want nothing else, nothing from you! I only want him!" You looked away from the young lad, finding Osferth's wide open eyes staring up at you. You whimpered, "I only need him, so, please. Please, give him back to me. Please. I need him, I need him, I can't do this without him, please, God, don't do this. You take so many lives, why add him to the mix!? Give him back! C'mon," you begged the cooling body, "c'mon, love, get up. Get up for me, please, just wake up. Come back to me, get up... Get up, Osferth, get up! Please! WAKE UP!"

But Osferth never moved. Never blinked. Never drew breath. And God never answered your pleas. Your dress was saturated in your husband's blood; a pooling puddle seeping into your knees, bodice drenched, his baby moving in your belly. You wailed into the still air, holding your husband tight to your chest; mouth agape to release the terrible screams of anguish, tears never ending, rocking on your knees. You didn't know what to feel... But devastation was prominent.

You wept until your throat went raw, jaw tender from your open mouth. "I'm so sorry!" You repeated, "I should've been quicker! I should've been at your side! You shouldn't have been alone! This is my fault! This is all my fault, I shouldn't have been away from you. I should've been with you, you did not deserve this end. Please! Forgive me, wherever you are, forgive me, I did not intend for this, I shouldn't have left you, I should've been at your side, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry."

"No," Ingrith whispered, "no, do not say this is your fault, you did nothing - "

"Exactly!" You snapped at her, eyes ablaze, her husband silent. "I did nothing, I wasn't with him! I wasn't where I was supposed to be! And he was stabbed because of you!"

Finan whispered your name in reprimand.

"No! How many times have you rode a fucking horse, Ingrith!? And now, today, the time it truly matters, you fall; you posed distraction," you sobbed, crumpling in on yourself. "He was distracted by your fall... This shouldn't've happened, this is all wrong!"

The trio just watched you, knowing your emotions were raw and unwavering, that your words did not have meaning because your husband had just died in your arms. Hours passed, you did not move. Hours passed, your husband did not return. Hours passed, and your heart shattered with each passing breath you selfishly drew.

Because living felt selfish now without Osferth.

"Sweet one," Finan whispered, the sun setting, "we should move him. Bring him to the church so Benedict can pray."

Your head shook, "No."

"Darlin', we have to - "

"No," you whimpered, "because if you take him to Benedict, it's real. If we move, he's truly gone... He can't be gone, Finan," you sobbed, meeting your friend's eyes. "If you move him, he's gone, I'm not ready to say goodbye, please. Please, don't take him from me."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "but he should be laid to rest."

"Don't take him from me," you begged, a new wave of tears starting. "I just - we were supposed to be a family. We were supposed to have this baby, and now, it's just me? This cannot be, so please, don't take him from me, I only need him back. Give him back to me, Finan, please, I can't be without him."

"I know," he nodded, gently encouraging you into his embrace. It meant you had to let go of Osferth, something you did slowly and gradually, leaning into the Irishman's chest. "All right, I got yah," he whispered, looking to his wife. "C'mon, stand with Ingrith. I'll carry him."

"Be gentle," you sobbed, feeling Ingrith grip your arms to help heave you to your feet; watching Finan scoop Osferth over his shoulder. The change of position made more blood splatter to the dirt, your heart stalling in your chest when you heard the mess.

You felt your soul shriveled and hidden somewhere deep in your chest, following as if in a trance. You watched Finan and Cynleaf slowly lower Osferth to the ground with the other dead Danes, feeling yourself drop to the ground in shock.

Seeing Osferth amongst the dead made it so much more real.

"It's all my fault," you sobbed, Finan moving to your side, "it's all my fault, I got him killed. I should've been quicker. This is my fault, my fault, I did this, 's my fault."

Finan knelt beside you, bringing your foreheads together to hold you tightly and let you sob into his embrace. "You didn't do this," he promised, "you did nothing wrong. You are not at fault. Do not carry this guilt."

You sobbed without reprieve.

Young Uhtred halted Father Benedict from praying over the Danes, telling the older man they had different customs, but looked back at you. He asked your name softly, wondering, "Do you wish for a prayer for... Him?"

Even Young Uhtred couldn't stomach the truth, avoiding using Osferth's name out of sheer disbelief.

"That'd be nice," Finan agreed, turning to sit beside you and hold you under his arm. You leaned into his embrace, head to his shoulder. "She read him his death rites when... It happened."

Young Uhtred nodded, bowing his head, leading, "Our Father, Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, On earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

Then, you joined from under Finan's heavy arm, sobbing through your words, "Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death."

Benedict finished, "Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end."

Together, you, Ingrith, Young Uhtred, Benedict, Finan, and even Cynleaf ended, "Amen."

Feeling the most level-headed, Ingrith stepped in and directed the men; informing that Young Uhtred should lead the remaining Danes to Daneland, Finan and Cynleaf would meet Uhtred on the road, and she would accompany you to Wessex - where Osferth could be laid to rest at the place of his birth. Then, the people mourned together for their fallen.

Finan disagreed initially, telling his wife you were his responsibility now that Osferth was passed. But there was no way you could continue with the company, not in your pregnant state. Finan didn't like the idea of you being without him, considering you close to a sister; something of a best mate, someone he couldn't turn his back on - no matter the situation. However, he understood the predicament and finally agreed to part ways, but not before he untied Osferth's crucifix and latched it around your neck. At the gates of Rumcofa, before separating, Finan gifted you his rosary; thinking it might bring comfort in his physical absence.

Years from then, you would bring up a single son named Gabriel (a name your husband favored, a name benefitting an Angel) under Lord Uhtred in his birthplace of Bebbanburg. You never remarried. You never even so much as looked after another man with lust. Gabriel would grow into a handsome warrior and a devoted man of God, satisfied on tales about his father; being painted as a man of honor, integrity, and bravery. Osferth, too, was a man of God, a man of the sword, and a man of his word... Until the very end. And when your time came, you were brought back to Wessex to be laid to rest with your husband; your son having a son, naming him Osferth, and knowing, both his parents shined down on him in pride.

It was a comfort for everyone to know, somewhere in the afterlife, in God's warmth, you and Osferth were reunited; looking just as you did the day you parted from one another.

requesting rules and masterlist

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captainlunaxmen · 9 months ago

Text

Frustration

Finan x fem!reader

Hi! I got this idea last night and thought to write, to ease the wait for the next Finnick's chapter.

Hope you'll like it, let me know❤️

Summary: The Reader can't stand when Finan opposes himself to her involvement in the group's plans.

Warnings: mention of bleeding, mention of sexual assault.

I can feel a headache growing in my skull, Uhtred and Finan have been fighting for far too long now.

I take a big gulp of ale and stand to join them and put an end to it. I get in between them, separating them.

"Would you please stop, now?" I demand, i turn to Finan, "I am going. End of story."

"No you're not." He insists and I deeply sigh, more frustrated then before.

"They don't know her! She can blend in better than us." Uhtred almost shouts out of frustration.

"He's right, Finan, it's the only way we can find out about their plans." Sihtric chimes in, supporting our plan.

"She can't." Finan insists, "no way."

"I can't?" I ask, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"You've not trained enough. It's too dangerous." Finan insists, hard expression on his face.

"Excuse me?"

"She's more prepared than me." Osferth supports us too.

"That doesn't say a lot..." Sihtric mutters.

"She's more than prepared, Finan." Uhtred declares, "she's going."

"End. Of. Story." I add, walking away, ignoring Finan's furious eyes.

I don't understand him, Finan never talks to me, never cared before tonight, and now he acts all mad about me going into the enemy's camp.

I file off my sword, ignoring whoever came in with me.

"I didn't want to ask in front of them, but.." Uhtred's voice is close, "are you sure you want to do it?"

Want... not can, at least he believes in my skills.

"I'm sure, lord." I look him in the eyes, "I'm sure."

"That's what I wanted to hear." He smiles, "all set?"

"Yes, lord." I nod vigorously.

"Let's send you off then!" He cheerfully pats my shoulder, then hugs me.

I say goodbye to everyone as I walk towards the camp. I feel a particularly angry stare piercing my skull as I walk off, but I decide to ignore it.

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

Well, that didn't go as planned.

I hold my bleeding arm as I hide from the Danes chasing me. I need to take the longer route to get back to my camp, so I can lose them.

I take a deep breath once I see in the distance Uhtred's camp, one last effort and I'll be safe.

"She's back!" I hear Osferth voice calling the others.

Once I arrive at the camp everyone else is already gathered there to greet me.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Sihtric exclaims.

"They didn't find out I work with Uhtred, if that's what you're wondering." I groan as I sit, Osferth is already kneeling beside me to check on my arm.

"Then what happened?" Uhtred asks, alarmed.

"Nothing particular." I answer.

"What?" The familiar hard tone of Finan is present.

"Nothing."

"That doesn't look like nothing." He insists.

"Am I about to die, Osferth?" I innocently ask the monk.

"Uh... n-no... it just needs stitches..." Osferth hesitantly answer.

"See?" I tilt my head, pointing at Osferth, "it's nothing."

"Y/n..." Uhtred sighs, "what happened?"

"One of the men wanted to 'have fun' with me as he said it." I explain, "I dared to say no."

"What?!" Finan exclaims, but recollects himself immediately.

"But I got the information you needed." I turn to Uhtred.

"I don't care about that now." He says, "are you okay?"

"I'm saying I'm fine. It was nothing." I insist, "they keep the hostages in a chariot, sort of, not many and-"

"You need to rest." Finan interrupts me, earning a glare from me.

"I said I'm fucking fine." I snap at him.

"He's right." Osferth agrees with his friend, "you did lose a great amount of blood apparently. Stay warm and I'll get you something to eat."

"I..."

"Do as he says, you'll tell us later." Uhtred orders. I groans out, but accept the blanket Sihtric brings me.

"Told you." Finan mutters to me and walks off before I could tell him something.

I groan in frustration and just sit there warming myself as I wait for Osferth.

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

I ate and they finally let me share all the information I gathered. Now we just need a plan to rescue the hostages.

As we plan I keep sensing Finan's eyes on me, and everytime I look up he stares, furious at me.

"Can I ask what's your problem?" I interrupt Uhtred.

Everyone looks at me confused then move their attention to Finan as well.

"Finan, she's coming too, I don't want a repetition of what happened the other day." Uhtred states.

"You saw what happened." Finan insists.

"I got back with information." I state the obvious.

"You got injured!"

"It was merely a scratch!"

"You're staying here!"

"I am not!" I shouts, "I'm part of this just as you are. I am coming. I am capable, I'm not a fucking child!"

I stand and walk away.

"Y/n..!" Uhtred calls.

"No. Call me when he decides to treat me with respect." I turn around and walk off, away from them. Away from Finan.

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

I enjoy the solitude, looking up at the sky when I hear footsteps coming closer.

"I told you my condition, Uhtred." I say.

"Not Uhtred." Finan's voice catches me off guard, I turn to look at him, he looks tired.

"What do you want?" I ask, turning away.

"I... I guess I wanted to apologise." He says softly.

"You guess?" I scoff, "more like Uhtred forced you."

"No... he just sent me off to think, and I cane to the conclusion that I owe you an apology." He sit beside me.

"Okay..."

"So... I'm sorry." He says softly.

"For...?" I urge.

"For looking out for you too much." He says.

"What?" I ask, confused, I stand up looking down at him, "looking out for me? Are you serious?"

He stands up too, and now he's the one looking down at me, since he's taller.

"Yes.."

"You thought that treating me like a child, was looking out for me?" I ask, frustrated.

"I was..."

"Shut up." I say walking away again, but stop when he grabs my wrist and turns me back to him.

"Talk to me." He almost pleads.

"Talk to you?!" I widen my eyes, "you're the one that doesn't talk to me... you don't talk to me, you ignore me, you treat me like a child, you treat me like I'm useless and incapable of helping... like I'm not part of this group and you ask me to talk to you?"

"I've never... I didn't mean it." He tries to explain.

"Then why? What did you mean?" I ask him. He just stares at me, so I insist, "so? Are you going to say so-"

His lips on mine cuts me off.

I'm stunned for not even a second before I kiss him back. Once his hands are on my body I can't think of anything else, but him.

I move my hands to his face, caressing his beard to pull him even closer.

Eventually we both need air and we pull away just enough to breath, but not too far.

"I'm sorry for treating you like a child." He breaths heavily as he apologies.

"What?" I ask, the kiss got too into my head I completely forgot what was going on, he chuckles and caresses my hips, leaning his forehead against mine.

"I'm sorry, my love." He repeats.

"It's.. it's okay." I say, still catching my breath.

"It's not, I shouldn't have treated you like that." He looks at me in the eyes, "I think the world of you, you're the best with the knives and you're definitely part of this group." He leave a quick peck on my lips, "I was afraid. And when you got back bleeding... I couldn't see anything else."

"Thank you." I say, stroking his cheek with my thumb, "just don't treat me like that ever again."

"I won't." He kisses me again, "I promise you." Another kiss, "fuck, I promise you."

He keeps kissing me and I chuckle at his eagerness.

"Okay... mmh.. okay, Finan." I say between his kisses, "contain yourself."

"Oh you're asking the impossible here, my sweet." He keeps kissing me, moving slightly down my neck.

"We still need a plan to rescue those hostages." I say and he stops with a sigh.

"You're right... as always." He nods.

"But I mean..." I start and his face lightens up, "once they're safe..."

"Yes?" He urges.

"Well... we'll see." I wink.

"Don't play with me, woman." He jokingly warns me.

"Or what?" I tease.

He smirks and wraps his arms around my waist pulling me completely against his body, he put a hand on my cheeks and just kisses me more deeply than before.

"I'm glad tou made up, but we have hostages to safe, c'mon!" Uhtred's voice startles us making us pull away.

"Coming, lord!" Finan calls, then he turns to me with a stupid smile on his face.

He pulls away and takes my hand leading me back to the camp.

Before he lets me go he pulls me to him once more to whisper into my ear.

"Once they're all safe, I'll take care of you myself, love." He says and walks to stand with Uhred, not before giving my ass a small smack.

I look at him shaking my head and then I sit next to Sihtric, who looks at me with a knowing smirk, I slightly shove him before our attention is back on Uhtred explaining the plan to us.

And this time, Finan doesn't have anything to say about my involvement.

#the last kingdom imagine #the last kingdom #tlk fandom #tlk imagine #finan fanfic #finan x reader #finan imagine #tlk finan #finan the last kingdom #finan the agile #the last kingdom x reader

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