#im glad to be a kindred spirit!!

[petewentzisblack1312]

i like catbite, we are the union, and jer! i dont listen to a lot of ska like i said but those are some bands ive listened to and enjoy :)

Z0MG i love JER!!! Kill Lincoln is also really good, you should check them out, i recently listened to their album You Were There! id also recommend Jeff Rosenstock's album Ska Dream

i also liked the Ska Against Racism compilation from bad time records; it has a song by JER and another by We Are The Union on there, and JER's song was one of my favorites on it. i also really loved the one by Kill Lincoln and the one by The Skints and the one by Westbound Train. great stuff! not all the songs are winners, i disliked one or two of them but its a great album overall with broad array of artists and musical styles

i discovered ska through the Digimon movie when i was 10 so its a very nostalgic genre for me ^_^ id love to hear your recs! been trying to branch out lol

it sounds like i should be getting recs from you! i follow bad time records (on jers recommendation, theyre very knowledgeable about ska, even just on a technical level) and i feel like thats a good place to start. i remember listening to some kill lincoln and jeff rosenstock and liking them both too!! like i said i dont follow ska super closely but i like most of what i hear :]

[sfsolstice]

Anon, quite humbled linguistically here. I actually read the primary color and secondary color books! I need to go back through them though to really ingest and digest those ideas.

I am so glad we think alike

me 🤝 you a love for linguistics, colors, and poetry

[carbonated-q]

One of my coworkers just started texting me out of the blue, getting pretty personal, bc she said she felt like she needed a friend to talk to 🥺💕

[scp230kinnie]

Hey bro I see that your back now!!:)Was wondering if you could write a Hunter fic there are none on this app and I’m dying😭💕

YESS OKAY OKAY ermmmm let’s see

Hunter Sylvester x reader

Character: Hunter Sylvester

Genre: Fluff I guess😭 sum angst i think

Lots of it is paraphrased cuz I didn’t wanna sound stupid.. I also change the plot a bit

Warnings: I KEEP SWITCHING BETWEEN SECOND AND THIRD PERSON IM SORRY mentions of his mommy issues. Arguing. I suck at writing things. Reader = y/n💀 That’s it I think,,,, nOT PROOFREAD

Hunter Sylvester and you were once kindred spirits, enduring the rough path of middle school together. Your friendship was going perfect for a while, and he’d even started to gain feelings for you.

The long shadow of change began to appear as the first day of high school approached. Hunter, a sentimental guitarist with a heart full of unsaid things, started to notice changes in the shapes of your friendship. The smooth relationship you used to have was torn apart by new people, different schedules, different levels of popularity, and new environments. When high school came around, you started to get (somehow) more popular, and he felt as if he was left behind.

underneath it all, Hunter had more than just a quiet crush that had grown stronger with time. When life threw a curveball at him in sixth grade, your friendship came through for him. His mother had left abruptly, leaving a kind of void in him. You were one of the few constants in the midst of the chaos, providing comfort during the storm.

The strains of life’s melody transformed into a battlefield where your two bands were destined to be put against each other—a Battle of the Bands. As the band's frontman, Hunter struggled with the memory of a friendship that had endured heartache and the passage of time in addition to the need for victory. He would do anything to win the battle of the bands, and you both knew that.

On that crucial night, Hunter's nerves were crazy. His fists tightened, and like a melancholic tune, the recollections of sixth-grade hardships and your support reappeared. You tuned your instrument (or practiced your vocals), symbolically adjusting the common past that appeared through the bonds of your friendship.

The night goes on and the crowd seats and sings along with all the different songs that the different bands were playing. The judges had made their decision and everyone was waiting to hear who the number one champion. Or “metal lord” would be. (I’m so sorry💀)

Hunters band, Skullflower secured the place of runner up. A bittersweet taste after hearing that your band had been the winner. Amidst the cheers and applause, Hunter knew he had to come find you. He may have been a little upset, but ultimately he was extremely proud of you for winning. He’s always known you’d loved music, and you would constantly practice.

He found you in the band room in another hallway of the school. “Hey.” Is all he can manage to say. He says it quietly, but just loud enough for you to have heard it. You turn to him and look up to meet his eyes. “I’m glad you guys won, you really deserved it.” He says. He tries his best not to sound bitter or sarcastic, because he really means what he’s saying. You smile in return.

“Thanks Hunter. Honestly I feel like your band should’ve won. You guys were amazing” you say in response. He smiles the slightest bit back at you.

“I feel like you should know.. while it’s just us..” he starts to say, but doesn’t know how to finish it. His eyes reflect years of shared history, as well as love for you. He thinks you look absolutely beautiful tonight. As well as every day of course. “I really missed you. Being with you- I’m- hanging out with you I mean. We used to be so close I guess we just.. drifted when we got to this school you know? Your popularity just intimidated me a bit and I thought you would turn out like the other fake bitches at this school.”

“I missed hanging out with you too. We used to be so close and I just.. thought you didn’t want to be friends with me anymore when you stopped talking to me. Stopped calling me to talk about random things and texting me about your day. I thought you hated me” you respond.

“I thought I did too. But if I have to be honest, I was just scared. I just really liked you. Ever since middle school.. I mean- I still do, but I- I just- I don’t know. I thought that if I told you that you’d make fun of me and tell all your friends and stuff. I dont Care if you don’t feel the same, I just wanted to tell you.” He says. It sounds like he’s just saying whatever comes into his mind, without even thinking. “You just looked so beautiful on that stage and I just felt so proud when I found out your band won”

You’re not sure how to respond. “Hunter i… what..? Why..? I’ve never really seen you as the type of guy to have a crush on people. I thought you were too ‘metal’ for that” admittedly you’d caught him staring at you a fair bit of times. You’d had a hunch he felt something for you, but you couldn’t be sure because of his usual demeanour. “I really like you too, if I’m being honest. I always regret us drifting apart. I felt like you’d never like me back, but knowing what I know now.. it’s really.. I don’t know”

“So if that’s the case, want to go out with me? I have some tickets to a concert in town later this week”

And whatever you can imagine what happens from there

Thanks for reading, sorry if it’s bad or hard to read. Leave me more metal lords requests AND ALICE IN BORDERLAND REQUESTS PLEASE

Read more of my stuff yay

[solstic13]

Love the exit seekers au the idea really fascinates me you think you could tell us how the groups dynamics works

So im gonna go in order for each of them and show what they think of the other three!!

Pomni

Queenie: Mother figure, scary when angered (good thing she rarely is), Pomni also likes her a lot because shes quiet and not in-her-face like some of the others

Kaufmo: Kindred spirits, she likes watching him paint, they often collaborate for entertainment and exit finding purposes, he's also a Jax repellent.

Gummigoo: Besties, they love just speaking absolute nonsense to eachother (ai glitch + the human need to be more nonsensical), gummigoo sleeps in her room because, quoting caine, "hes not a human, and so doesn't get a room, sorry!".

Queenie

Pomni: This lovely jester is the newest to her court, so she must make sure Pomnis welcome! Often laughs at her jokes, trying to encourage her

Kaufmo: An older jester in her court, and one of her most trusted friends. She finds his darker jokes hilarious, even if few others do.

Gummigoo: A wonderful knight, real or not. Queenie does her best to teach him how things work, and how to exit seek.

Kaufmo

Queenie: Shes nice. Laughs at his jokes, and compliments his art.

Pomni: Partner in crime! Always adds a light spin to his jokes, likes to watch him paint.

Gummigoo: Not sure how to feel, fun to paint, though.

Gummigoo

Queenie: So very kind to him and patient with him, and hes glad she allowed him to tag along on the exit seeking stuff.

Pomni: Shes his best friend, they are gossip buddies for life. He prefers her floor to her bed though. He loves watching her write poems.

Kaufmo: Relationship is a little rocky, but theyre trying. Poses for his paintings sometimes.

Basic Au Info

in case your new here! No one ever abstracts. the "exits" were completed as little vacation spots away from the shenanigans and caine, sometimes you can end up in the void via the exits, though, so id be careful. Oh and, Pomni is able to convince Caine to let Gummigoo stay.

[swifty-fox]

I absolutely love your fic my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder. You captured Buck's thoughts and struggles so perfectly. It's a delight to read.

Is there a part of it that you've enjoyed writing the most? One that made the strongest impact on you?

aughaa Im so glad people love this story. And I can say. I officially wrote... a kiss scene today. Y'all aren't ready :)

I think my favorite parts to write was anything with Gale and John Sr.. It was very unexpected and they ended up having like triple the scenes I meant for them to but something about their dynamic intrigued me so much I kept having to come back to it.

I think that like John says in the opening scene, Gale and John Sr. are very alike. I think they sense a kindred spirit in each other for multiple reasons. Personality, trauma, caring for John who is just a bit larger than life. I think John Sr. also sees Gale as someone who desperately desires security and fatherly advice and John Sr. despite his flaws is a good dad. So if he can give Gale a pat on the shoulder or space to ask him questions a son might ask (does the war ever end?) He's more than happy to do so.

I think it fascinates me too because John Sr. is such a nuanced character. He would not Accept Gale if he were to come out. He is victim to societal expectations and the mindset he was raised in. And so there's also this sense that the care Gale gets from him is also dependent on him just Being John's War Buddy and nothing more.

I also really loved the scene where John and Gale are discussing John's sobriety and Gale's father and Gale's type in movie stars lol. I think through the entire story that's the biggest moment we have of them not being in any sort of real conflict.

For the scene that had the most impact on me? Probably the James/Party arc. I was so concerned with getting it right getting it perfect and respectful and just the right amount of angst without it feeling exploitative. Many of my moots can attest how much I worried in their dms lmao. Aside from John's scene now it's probably the part I rewrote the most and lingered over the most. I think it came out perfect though, especially them in the car afterwards. Seeing Gale so unhinged, seeing him almost kiss John and how awful it would have been for the both of them given the mindset they were in. It was just. Juicy haha

[enemywasp]

OMFG A PROSHIPPER !!+! SAME BUT I HAVE TO HIDE MY IDENTITY BC EVERYONE HAS DNI PROSHIP IN BIO LIKE WHY?????

UMMMMM ..... Rant bc it's so rare to find a kindred spirit in this shitty immature ""war""

it fr just means i believe we should ship and let ship??? why is the "i don't judge u for your preferences" thing seen as bad idfk like. it's fucking fiction.

if it's problematic then I don't condone it irl. but I'm human. I have curiosities and shit. Like,, ppl don't listen to true crime bc they condone murder and ppl don't go calling true crime fans murderers. so WHYYYY is shipping any different, in fact it's b e t t e r bc at least fiction. isn't. real.

like why tf is what i ship anyone else's business??? unless it's bc we have smthn in common to bond over, why tf do ppl care abt the ships we don't have in common.

istg ship wars are crazy af and this whole pro- anti- ship shit is just another way to try to control smthn that doesn't need controlling.

it's like U said no one fucking cares abt it irl and the damn DEATH THREATS ppl get over **not giving a damn what other people ship** instead of being the fucking fandom shipper police or smthn is disgusting and i hate that im never allowed to talk abt this w/out ppl hating me and calling me a disgusting monster.

why can't I just do what I fucking want when in my own privacy while not causing any harm???

like ppl are so damn delusionalllllllll!!!!.!.!.!

-> some proshippers just mean they support any and all ships bc fiction is fiction

-> some proshippers ship "problematic" ships and that is FINE because it is NOT REAL and THEY ARE NOT HURTING ANYONE and i meannnnm ppl are curious right. they gonna explore alien concepts some way or another. why tf would ppl stop them from exploring it in a safe. healthy. fictional. harmless. way.

why is it that it's okay to consume problematic content but not okay to ship problematic ships?? literally what is the fucking difference ships are a subgenre of content.

if you think it's okay to be a fan of lotr or american psycho or some shit then it is damn hypocritical to say it isn't okay to ship something problematic. same thing if you think it's okay to stan/simp for a villain character.

it's only even called ~problematic~ bc that's how the relationship would be if it were real. which it isn't. so it isn't fucking problematic bc it's fictional content and the ppl shipping it do not condone the irl versions.

also sidenote,,, why tf are proshippers and multishippers grouped together in the dni stuff?? they are not related. a multishipper just. ships the same character w/ more than just one (1) other character. how is that problematic too?????

okay sorreryyyyyy i just have so many thoughts on this that im never allowed to share pls feel free to let this one collect dust in the inbox. or just straight up delete it lol.

Do not apologise! I love a good rant!

If you want to interact with proshippers more the tags "proshipper", "proshippers pls interact" and "proship positivity" are usually very nice and lots of wonderful people post there!

And you could always make a side account for proship stuff if you want to be able to take a break from the intense pro vs anti stuff if and when it gets too much, whilst still having a place to enjoy that stuff.

Honestly I think a lot of the issue is people seem to take the word "ship" as their ideal relationship. Less so than a dynamic they enjoy in fiction. But I don't know, I can't pretend to understand the mind of antis.

Proshippers and multishippers getting clumped together is probably linked to the idea that a ship is a pairing you want to see canon and shows actually pandering to ship wars lately. Or maybe people are just weird!

Everyone takes shipping way too seriously now and acts like a fictional pairings existence will romanticise the topic and brainwash kids. My general rule is that its for fun, who cares ?

And feel free to rant in my inbox whenever! It's always open to anyone. Glad you could get that off your chest :)

[arcielee]

Farewell Wanderlust

Warnings:  Mentions of sexual assault, implied PTSD, detailed bloodshed. MDNI, 18+ Pairing: Osferth x OFC Word Count: 3896 Summary: Torn from her home country, Keavy finds herself trying to survive across the Irish sea. She happens across Uhtred and his motley crew, and finds herself befriending a monk who is determined to become a warrior.  Author’s Note: Stiorra and Oswald are aged up a bit. Again, this is a hybrid of the book series and Netflix series. 💜 Thank you @itbmojojoejo​ for being my beloved beta reader. Enjoy!      Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! Dividers are by @saradika​  💜 Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aspen-carter @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @randomdragonfires @httpsdoll @triscy @assortedseaglass @whoknows333 @shesjustanothergeek​ @heavenly1927​ @greenowlfactif​ @babyblue711​ (bold for those I could not tag, but requested!)

Chapter 3

The air seemed sweeter the further west they went, just the soothing rhythmic row as they followed the curves of the Temes. Ahead, Keavy spotted horses grazing near the shore and they docked, greeted by a man who called to Uhtred. “I had them brushed, lord,” his words searching for favor. “And fed as well!” 

Uhtred rewarded him with a silver coin for the care and the men began to climb from the boats. She appreciated that Osferth lingered, his hand outstretched to take her own, his firm grip that helped her onto solid ground. She smiled at him before her attention returned to the horses; she took shy steps towards one whose ears twitched with her approach, its large eyes watching her. She held out her hand flat and giggled with the way its muzzle tickled her palm. 

“You will be riding with me, Keavy,” and she turned back to see Osferth moving towards her, his arms folded behind his back. His tongue wet his lips. “Have you ridden one before?” 

“I have not,” and she smiled again, her hand moving to follow the crest and reaching on her tiptoes to try and scratch behind its ears. “What must I do?”

As the men found their respective horses, she followed Osferth to a brown mare with a white diamond on her forehead. He allowed her a moment as she held her palm out once again, her tentative scritches to the jawline before he stepped closer, taking her hand to place on the cantle. “Keep your hold here,” his voice was low with his command, before he kneeled with knitted hands to cup her step and help her aback, and then he pulled himself up. 

Keavy burned as he settled himself behind her, the feel of his solid chest against her backside and the same tenderness of his touch as before, respectful, almost hesitant. She grabbed the reins and held them for him, her soft sigh when he reached around her to take them.

They began towards Wintanceaster and she found his presence was not suffocating, unlike how she felt around the Thurgilson brothers and their men. There was a comfort, a consideration with his subtle actions towards her, how he held his arms to hover above her thighs until she placed her hand on his forearm to show he could rest them on top, to his warm tone in the shell of her ear as he explained the simplicity of riding horseback. 

“Keep your hold with your thighs,” and she flushed with his words. 

It was uneventful otherwise, just  the soft murmuring exchanges between them; Osferth allowed her to take the reins and she smiled with how his palms fit over her hands, the vibration of his chest with the low instructions that tickled her ear. 

Once in Wintanceaster, they dismounted and only then Keavy noticed the man from before, his brown eyes squinting in recognition of her. “I am so pleased you escaped, priest,” she said. 

He introduced himself as Pylrig. “The Lord allowed me an opportunity I had to take,” his smile grim beneath his haggard beard. “I am glad you are out of their shadows. It seems, perhaps, that He has something planned for you as well?” 

She gave a noncommittal hum in return and Pylrig and Uhtred left, the Mercian lords following behind them. “What do we do now?” Keavy turned to look at who stayed behind.

She saw the glint in the Irishman’s eyes, a wolfish grin beneath his beard. “Now, cailín, we will fill our time with food and ale while Uhtred relays to the king what we saw in Lunden,” and they began to move towards the tavern; Finan dipped into the doorway and looked back to Keavy. “In return, the king will question Uhtred’s loyalty and I assume we’ll be banished back to Coccham within half a day.”

She made a face. “That seems…absurd.”

“Ay,” he agreed, “but that is what we do. Still plenty of time to drink, though,” and with that he called out to the owner. “We need pints!”  

They settled around a table and Keavy felt the curl of apprehension as the mugs were set down for them. But as the night continued, as the ale flowed, she did not see the flare of cruelty the liquor seemingly brought out in the Danes in Lunden, but instead her cheeks were rosy from laughter they shared stories. 

The night waned away and eventually Uhtred returned, calling to Keavy. She pushed from the table, her limbs heavy from the day, and followed behind him as they pushed towards the bar. Uhtred spoke with the man and her eyes flitted over the tavern, returning to the table and catching the brilliant blue of Oferth’s steady gaze; she felt her lips curl upwards but he quickly returned his attention to the men. 

An ewer was placed in her hands, folded fabric draped over her arms, and she looked to follow Uhtred. They came to an empty room with empty beds, moving towards another door where a smaller room was attached. 

Inside was a bed small enough to fit within and a crude, wooden table with a shallow washbin on top with a looking glass that hung above. In its smudged reflection she spotted the empty gaze of a stranger, realizing the dark circles beneath her eyes and the beginning bruise on her chin from the backhand earlier. 

Keavy suddenly felt very tired. 

“I imagine you need your rest from the day,” Uhtred spoke like he had heard her thoughts. “My men will continue to drink, but we will not bother you.”

“Thank you, lord,” her voice was hoarse and she looked into his eyes for a moment. “I did not mean to lie… I will repay the debt to Lady Gisela, she truly did save me–” 

“She spoke of Ebchester before,” he interrupted her, pausing in the doorway a moment. “She told me there was a girl who had the spirit that reminded her of me,” and he smiled. “I understand you did what was needed to survive and I trust that you will repay your debt.” 

He left her, closing the door behind, and she exhaled deeply, a release of the anxiety that bound tight in her chest, her exhaustion lifting from her shoulders, and she looked at her reflection once again. 

Among the fabric she found cleaned rags and peeled the frock she wore, her hands and eyes flitting over the damage caused from the prior days: the dark bruising on her thighs, the scabbing on her hip from the sheath worn on his sword hand…

Keavy shuddered off the memories; she poured the cool water from the ewer and used the homemade soap to scrub every inch, to remove the grime of Lunden, to peel away that tainted layer of skin. Her chest felt tight until she saw her reflection once more, a raw redness that now flushed her pale skin, and she finally felt she could breathe again. 

She slipped on the tunic and crawled beneath the covers, allowing herself to cry until she fell asleep. 

+ + + +

The next morning, Osferth was first in the stables; he was feeding straw to his mare when Finan and Sihtric rounded, with Clapa clamoring behind. “Don’t worry, baby monk,” the teasing lilt of the Irishman was loud, “she has to ride with you, as you are the slimmest of us all.” 

He felt his blush reach to the tips of his ears as they chuckled, but before he could say a word, Uhtred then walked up with Keavy. Osferth felt his eyes go to her, admiring the curve of her neck shone with how her dark hair was braided back, the leather strap of her necklace peeking beneath the collar of the oversized tunic worn, her waist was cinched from the belt that held her dagger. 

Osferth fell back a step when she approached, the warm crimson of his cheeks spreading to his neck and chest from how bright her eyes shone, from the sweetness of the smile she offered him. 

He swallowed thickly. 

It was the boom of Finan’s voice that brought his attention back. “Where to, lord?” 

As expected, they were to return to Coccham. Like yesterday, Osferth helped Keavy up first before he climbed up behind her, swallowing the mixed scent of wood ash with lavender and thyme on her skin. She nestled against his chest and he swallowed again as he reached for the reins, caging her against him. 

Uhtred moved his horse to the front and the rest fell in line, following the trodden path that led back to Coccham. Finan paced his horse alongside and Osferth was quiet as he listened to them talk of Irland; he shared his somber story of a love left behind, how she was ripped away and when he tried to retrieve her, he became cursed with the blood that was shed. 

“I believe your curse remains in Irland,” her voice was soft and Osferth peered down, watching as she turned to face Finan, his eyes trailing the marr that lined her jawbone. “That it remains in the soil across the sea.” 

Despite the tragedy Finan shared, his tone was still teasing. “Do you feel as if your fortune is turning now?” 

Keavy pursed her lips together. “I would have said no if I was asked a few days ago,” she admitted, looking back in front of them. “However, I keep being informed by holy men and women that their God has a plan for me.” 

“Do you believe that?”

“No, but I can respect it,” and she was quiet a moment before she added, “I choose my own fate.” 

They followed the sun as it curved above and began to tuck away into the treeline, the evening shadows stretching until Uhtred called them to dismount and set camp. Osferth climbed down and reached for Keavy. “Your legs may be unsteady,” he warned her and she gripped his arms to balance herself. 

“Osferth,” but he saw she was smiling, his name the sweetest sound on her tongue, “I am sore.”

His cheeks dimpled with his own grin. “I swear your legs will grow use to it,” he offered. 

As they settled around the fire, Uhtred called Sihtric for the first watch. It seemed only a moment that his eyes closed before the Dane woke him, and Osferth pulled himself upright and placed his sword across his lap, watching the silver light that poured through the trees as the others continued their fitful sleep. 

When he tried to wake Finan for his turn, he received a grizzled, “Fuck off, baby monk.”

So Osferth watched as the fire dulled to a glowing ember when a soft cry caught his attention; he looked to see Keavy flinch in her sleep, her eyes opening wide and her breathing rapid. 

“Keavy,” Osferth called to her, his voice low; he moved closer, careful, “Keavy, you are in Wessex.” 

She pushed herself upright, nodding her understanding. “Just a dream,” her voice was weak and she took a deep breath. “Osferth, should you not be sleeping?” 

He felt himself grow warm under her gaze, grateful the fading fire masked the coloring in his cheeks. “Finan is a heavy sleeper,” he mumbled. 

“Then allow me to keep you company,” and she wrapped the fur around, moving to seat herself on the log he rested against. “Tell me your years spent in the monastery and we can compare with the ones I spent with the nuns.” 

Keavy kept her tone light, unwilling to attempt to sleep again, so he fed a log to the fire and they talked with the low crackling of the rekindled flames. They shared the stories of their paths and what brought them to Uhtred; there was an ease, a comfort, with their exchange and he mentioned her words from earlier. “My uncle told me something similar,” and Osferth looked to her, “how it is our steps that create our own destiny.” 

Keavy hummed, a smile on her lips as she poked the flames with a stick. “Wise words,” and she bit her bottom lip. “So, this was your choice, then? You truly left the monastery behind?”

“I would say.”

“Well, if I was you,” she continued, almost shy when she looked to him, “I would cut my hair, to shed the remnants of that monk lifestyle, perhaps along with the pet name they chose for you.” 

Osferth watched her and she grinned with her words, her scar deepening the dimple in her cheek, and the fire seemed to breathe life, warmth into her features. His tongue wet his lips and he looked away. “Perhaps I will,” was all he managed and then he pushed himself to stand, excusing himself for a moment. 

In part it was to relieve his bladder, but also he needed a moment to breathe; his steps pulled him deeper into the trees, with the thoughts of the amber glow from the flames and how they reflected the golden halo in her eyes.

+ + + +

Keavy did not care for the night, as it allowed shadows for traders, for slavers, for Danes to roam without consequence. She remained seated for a moment, allowing the blood to leave her cheeks as she listened for his footfalls, the crunch of the leaves beneath his feet until they faded too far for her comfort. She knew she should allow him his privacy, but her stomach knotted and it compelled her to follow after, as though something within the trees beckoned to her.

Her own steps were soft and she soon spotted the lithe figure of Osferth, his backside to her, as well as a hulking shadow that crept towards him, with a sword and shield in hand. Without a thought, without a sound, she sprinted forward, her dagger gripped in her hand.

Osferth turned towards the noise and she heard the sickening crunch of the shield that cracked across his chest; he fell back against the ground, the air swept from his lungs. 

She struck into the back of the leather cuirass; the Dane cried out, her other hand grasped and pressed until the blade sunk to its handle into his flesh. There was the wheezed escape of his last breath and he collapsed to his knees, falling face first into the earth.

Keavy remained standing over the body. 

Osferth looked to her and she stared back, her eyes wide. “Are you hurt?” her voice trembled, spilling from her lips. 

He did not answer and his expression seemed pained with his fluid motion, pushing to his feet and unsheathing his blade, shoving her aside and swiping across. Keavy fell back and she looked up to see his blade connect with the throat of another Dane, not deep enough to sever but enough for his head to snap back and the body to crumple to the ground. 

“Quick,” Osferth rasped, moving to pull the blade from the backside of the first Dane and handing it to her, “there will be more.” 

They ran, leaving behind the men slain, away from the sound of more that followed after. “Uhtred,” Osferth gasped, his lungs burning with the alarm. “Finan! Sihtric!”

Uhtred and his men moved quickly, as a unit, bleary eyed but their swords drawn, quickly creating a circle and facing outwards to whatever was coming. Osferth pulled Keavy and they tucked into the readied stance of men; she felt his soft touch, his gesture for her to step back, but she saw his unsteady hold of his sword arm and her own tightened around her dagger that was still red with blood. 

Keavy could feel her heart pounding against her rib cage as she watched the Danes move towards them, seeing a heavier set Dane that step forward. “Uhtred Ragnarsson,” his tone almost gladsome as he sheathed his sword.

But the rest did not relax until Uhtred sheathed his own sword, calling the Dane by the name Hæsten. They listened to the awkward exchange over what he claimed to be a misunderstanding, that Hæsten continued on that his men paid with their lives. “Had we been aware they were your men, we would have just continued on our way, Uhtred.” 

“And which way is that?” Uhtred called as they retreated back towards the woods, which brightened as the moon tucked away and the early hour of the morning began to peek through the treeline. 

Hæsten wore a sleazy grin. “Why, to Lunden, of course.” 

As the Danes made their way, the adrenaline seemed to follow. With the mumbled command to break camp, Keavy looked to Osferth and saw him hunch forward, his hand pressed to his chest with a staggered step. She moved towards him, but Finan was quicker to catch him; she saw the blood begin to stain through the thick, burlap fabric of his albe, creating a diagonal line of red from his shoulder and across his chest. 

A satchel was brought and Finan moved quickly to remove the layer, and after a lookover he began to wrap the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. Keavy shared what happened in the woods as Uhtred watched; there was a glimmer of pride to his features and his brow raised when he asked, “You killed them?”

“I killed the first one, lord,” she corrected, but her eyes did not leave Osferth. His complexion seemed ashen and he smothered a grimace as Finan knotted the fabric. “Osferth beheaded the second one.” 

“We will celebrate your first bloodshed once we’re back in Coccham,” the Irishman grinned and clasped his hand on the shoulder that was not bandaged. Osferth’s eyes fluttered from the touch, but he kept quiet. “I don’t believe anything is broken, but I know you will be sore, baby monk.” He then looked up to Uhtred. “It may be best to have Lady Gisela look him over, lord.”

Uhtred nodded, calling Sihtric to accompany them, announcing that Keavy would ride with Osferth and return to the village as quickly as possible. “We will not be far behind,” he finished while the men continued to disband the camp. 

Keavy pulled herself onto the horse, turning to help Finan with Osferth behind her. He groaned softly when seated and she pulled him arm with the whisper, “Wrap your arm around me, I swear I won’t let you fall.” 

There was a warmth from his hold and it spread to her cheeks as he rested his jaw on her shoulder. Her heels pressed to quicken to a trot, keeping the pace with Sihtric, and she felt the vibration of his groan. Keavy placed her arm on top of his, her hand over his own with a soft squeeze. “Hang in there,” her voice was so low that she was certain he would not have heard, but she felt his hold tighten around her waist. 

Coccham was a welcomed sight, its walls built sturdy amongst the trees at the Temes’ shore; the village was coming alive in the early hours of the morning with the callouts of their return. Lady Gisela stepped from the main house with two children in tow, and her brow raised when she spotted them. 

“Sihtric, you return without my husband and instead bring me a face that I do not know…” and her lyrical tone broke off, a smile pulling at her pink lips with her recognition, “and a face that I do remember.” Gisela gave a sweet sigh of disbelief. “Welcome, Keavy.” 

Had Osferth not anchored her with his grasp, she felt certain she would have fallen from the horse with the surge of relief that washed over her. Sihtric dismounted and moved to help them down, explaining, “Uhtred is not far behind us, lady,” his tone almost apologetic as he gestured to Osferth, “but he needs your help.” 

Gisela nodded, her children passed off to another set of hands, and they moved back to the hall, towards a side room with a cot. She was not fazed with the removal of the bloodied bandage, her tone was kind but sharp with her instruction and Keavy was quick to return with a filled ewer and fresh bandages. 

Her composure was the same as Keavy remembered from the days at the nunnery, she had the same gentleness with the soft flit of her hands across Osferth’s chest. The sunlight poured through the window and Keavy could see the gash from the shield edge that struck him, with a bruising color that bloomed around it. 

“Nothing is broken,” her sweet tone said with certainty, “and the bleeding has stopped, so sutures are not needed. However, you are bruised to the very bone. You will need rest, to allow the skin to mend, whoever you are.”

Sihtric supplied, “He is Alfred’s bastard,” and Keavy saw the discomfort that played across Osferth’s face from the words spoken. 

“I am Osferth, lady,” he rasped. “I am simply called Osferth.” 

Gisela only smiled, finishing the fresh wrappings and then wiping her hands before she stood up. “Well Osferth, you will rest here until my husband returns and tells me what we are to do with you.”

“Thank you, lady,” he sounded weary, but his hooded eyes still watched Keavy as she moved from his side to follow back into the main hall. 

Sihtric left to tend to the horses left out front and Gisela then turned her focus onto Keavy, her hazel eyes glinting with a golden warmth as she looked her over. She still glowed with the same prowess Keavy remembered, with a matured beauty that accompanied her motherhood. “You have grown into a woman,” she began, gesturing for Keavy to sit with her at the table. A cup of ale was poured, a clean plate filled, and she quietly thanked her. “Let us begin from when we last saw one another in Ebchester.”

It was a dam broken as she shared the summary, beginning with her service to Guthrum of East Anglia, to the siege of Lunden and about the brothers Erik and Sigefrid. 

She could not control the hurt that choked her words and Gisela reached across, taking her hand into her own. “My sweet girl,” and her sweet voice was a balm for her broken soul, “I spoke to Uhtred that you were clever, and you did what was needed to survive still. You can rest, as you are now welcomed here, always.”  

“Thank you, lady,” she sipped from the goblet, the ale burning her throat. 

It was then Gisela called for her children and she met Stiorra, a bright eyed little girl who had only begun to walk, and Oswald, who smiled shyly from behind his mother’s skirts. “My hands are full with them and your help would be welcomed.”

Keavy smiled and felt shy to ask, “Should I bring a plate to Osferth, lady? I would think he would be hungry.” 

Gisela watched her, a shift in her smile, something knowing that played behind her eyes and the dark lashes that framed them. “He will need to be tended to,” she agreed, and a fresh plate was brought out. “His bandages will also need to be changed, so you should continue to check on him daily until he is well enough.” 

“Yes, lady,” and her green eyes were bright with her returned smile.

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[queermasculine]

im a gay trans male, but scrolling through your blog feels more like home than being around most guys that share the same identity as me

that's funny, sometimes i feel more at home among gay trans guys than i do among other butch lesbians! i guess some of us are just destined to be misfits even among our own kind at times... either way i'm glad to have you here buddy. always felt to me like butch4butch dykes and gay guys were kindred spirits. there's so much we share.

[thatdammchickennugget]

Hii! Congrats on growing your blog I’m so glad you’re getting recognition for your writing! I was wondering if you could do a romantic pairing with Theodore Nott (loml) I'm a September Virgo and a Leo sun. I’m a Gryffindor but easily could be Slytherin. I’m a perfect mix of James and Lily Potter both personality wise and also how I look, im very empathetic, love psychology and learning about the brain. I’m also bilingual and love to learn. I seem very mean but I’m just blunt and I love to love!

Thank you love💕

Romantic Match-Up: Theodore Nott

theo and you first cross paths during your fourth year at Hogwarts. with your gryffindor bravery and fierce loyalty, you immediately catch his attention, despite his slytherin upbringing. you possess a unique blend of traits that intrigues him from the start.

your interest in psychology and learning about the human mind forms the basis of your initial interactions. theo is drawn to your intellect and your ability to see beyond surface appearances, recognizing a kindred spirit in your curiosity and thirst for knowledge.

despite your seemingly opposite house affiliations, you find common ground in your mutual empathy and compassion. theo is surprised by your genuine kindness and warmth, breaking through his initial skepticism and prejudices.

as your friendship deepens, you discover that beneath his stoic exterior lies a sensitive and introspective soul. he confides in you about his struggles and fears, finding solace in your understanding and support.

you, in turn, appreciate theo's unwavering loyalty and quiet strength. he stands by your side through thick and thin, offering a steady presence and a listening ear whenever you need it.

over time, your friendship blossoms into something more as you both come to realize the depth of your feelings for each other. Despite the challenges and obstacles you face, your bond only grows stronger, fueled by mutual respect, understanding, and love.

Song: Lovers Rock by TV Girl

[splashtail]

phantom planet is really fun as a theoretical cheeky like. oh yeah raaah the earth almost gets destroyed but all the ghosts come together to help save danny if they werent like literally binning the fact all the ghosts really do care about danny for tension points. bc like the last three times the ghosts worked together to save danny, skulker came to danny and was like "good luck. i want the opprotunity to hunt you again, boy." and using him as the focal "well the ghosts dont gaf about your world. and i dont gaf about you" skulker fucking cares about danny !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but it really is like an honest vocal thing of how the character writing falls apart after kindred spirits give or take. just in general s3 is a mess, especially in acknowledging the actual characters OF the ghosts and their individual personalities & relations to danny specifically .

phantom planet is like. its very much something you watch to be like "wow! that sucked ! well im glad i finished danny phantom!" especially considering the way it compares to reign storm. the only ghost who speaks and interacts in phantom planet besides vlad and danny obviously is skulker, who is not characterized right, when in reign storm, several of the ghosts had a say about what was going on - but especially the notableness of poindexter standing up for dannys points & them all agreeing and working to listen to danny even though they laughed him off in the end - only because they thought his plan was ridiculous, unlike phantom planet, in which it tries to act like the ghosts would not care about the human realm being destroyed, and especially not *danny*. i could probably write an entire essay about this but yknow

(which is to say, most of the original writers didnt write for season three. only elmer. i looked and checked bc that felt like the case)

[muckyschmuck]

i woke up and was hit with whiplash about sending you that envious ask lol im probably gonna think about that when i hit my herb vape later hell yeah im glad you're so cool about like.. everything.. you're cool!!!

ur cool too anon don’t trip i’m envious of a LOT OF PEOPLE ALWAYS we’re like kindred spirits u and i

[toxycodone]

I think yourereallu cool and I super asmire your vibe. I thunk wed get along in real life and seeing you on my dashboard always makes me happu. Im drink rn but hi 💕

bruh i was drunk asf last night kdfjaks we are kindred spirits....real

but ty dkfjaaksjhdf i. just be doing me im glad im cool in your eyes

[tennisarchives]

💌? - shapovalovvs <3

loena HIIIII you are so hella fun to see on my dash likeeeeee genuinely brings joy to my life bc your tags are always great and your liveblogging keeps me so up to date when i forget abt matches LMAOOO. and im so glad to have a shapo stan on here bc he DESERVES IT and i hope he gets out of flop jail soon. and ALSO BTW i always forget to tell you this but i have been so happy to see you talking abt struffi bc ive been attached to him since last year and only now have i seen a kindred spirit <3 anyway we haven’t talked too much yet but i think you’re really sweet and i would love to get to know you more mwahhhhhh

[boeing-787]

as someone who's not particularly into planes, I have to say I really appreciate and enjoy the art and the planeposting. like I genuinely think it's really cool [I'm a furry so kinda kindred spirits].

one question I have if it's appropriate - is it in any way a romantic or sexual thing? absolutely no offense intended and absolutely no judgement either way, I just saw some posts tagged as objectum so it made me a bit curious. [I'm not objectum but I heavily respect it and understand it as much as a non-objectum person could]. apologies if it's a weird question and super sorry if it makes you uncomfortable!

either way, I enjoy your planeposting and think it's all really cool! I really like seeing it on my dash! and your art is super cool! :]

hiya! i'm really glad you like my art & and i really appreicate the compliments, they make my whole day tbh

as for the objectum thing, yes and no? im hoping this makes sense as a fellow furry: i like anthropomorphising things and i do enjoy a good anthro as much as any furry does so who knows if that counts. i've never been one to really define myself on sexuality and gender beyond gay as hell and bigender. i'm aware this probably does not answer your question 👍

[xenosaurus]

omg my cat also only sits on laps if you're wearing jeans! im glad it's not just her lol

Kindred spirits!