#tlk x original character

[writervaul-t]

The Ruined and its Damned

Summary: The mysterious death of certain individuals causes a Rose and her family's safety on the line. Desperate for answers, Rose must work with a group of warriors within Rumcofa to prevent her family from meeting an early death. The only problem: their presence was never made known to the settlement so now they must not only understand the reasoning behind the deaths but to also gain the trust of the suspicious settlers, specifically the newly placed Uhtred and his group of warriors sent to protect Rumcofa from any oncoming threats.

Pairing: Osferth x OC

Warning: Non-canon, spoilers if you're not caught up to s5, blood and wounds, lots of fighting

ao3 post | next chapter | masterlist

Chapter One: Amber

- ROSE -

The air was cold, but not cold enough to keep Rose from wishing to go back in the confines of her home. If she had the option, she was sure she’d like to stay outside, basking in the silence from nature in turn for the constant ruckus her brothers and father made back in their humble cabin.

Rose closed her eyes, breathing in the crisp morning air as she let her horse trot against the horribly beaten trail she was accustomed to. Only the gentle crunch of snow and muted calls from animals greeted her. Yes, she would definitely trade days like this with her noisy family if it meant she was able to savor more of this silence, even for just a moment.

Though, she knew that would not be an option in a very long time. She was needed at home, taking care of the younger half of her brothers when she is not where she is now. Like her brothers, Rose had a duty to uphold for her family and, to some extent, even those who would ever come by the areas she always crossed through.

“Rose.” The voice, annoyingly familiar, called out to her from ahead. Rose continued to close her eyes, ignoring the familiar voice as she took in the smell of the snow and the sound of her horse trotting. “Rose—”

“Jehan if you speak once more, I will certainly make sure you come home with no game and a split lip if you continue to disrupt me.” The girl said sharply, giving her twin brother a scathing look for ruining what little time she had with the outside world. Her irritation subsided, however, when her brother cast her a look that indicated anything but jesting—eyes wide, jaw tense—that she was not most favorable to: a threat was nearby.

Quickly, Rose’s fingers thumbed at the daggers attached to her back before checking for the ones hidden in her arms and boots before pulling her hood over her eyes. “Where.” Was all she asked, head whipping around until she finally spotted the billowing smoke rising from below a cliff just several feet away.

“Sounds like there's many. Almost fifteen…” Jehan whispered in his usual low, steady voice. He halted his own horse, effectively stopping Rose’s own from moving as well. “We can’t take that many if they really are a threat…”

“Definitely not.” Rose mutters back. “How do you know it’s a threat, though?”

“I don’t.” Her brother replied honestly, his jet black hair brushing against her own set of curls as she drew closer. “But the sound of swords being sharpened is enough of a warning.”

Rose nodded, scarily impressed by Jehan’s sharp hearing. If she were alone, Rose was sure she would hear the crunching of the snow beneath her horse’s hooves instead of blades being sharpened. “Do you need me to look?” She asked, though she had already been off her horse and throwing the rope to her twin in smooth succession.

Jehan nodded. “Just get a glimpse of them, see who they are: Dane or Saxon.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Both are threats to us no matter which one they are…”

Her brother only urged her forward with a warning look, Rose taking note that he hadn’t corrected her behavior statement. She was right, is all Rose could conclude from the silence, fingers dropping to the cross on her neck before brushing her fingers at the Yggdrasil hair beads woven into strands of her hair.

Dane or Saxon, they were surely in need to run away if they ever were to ever catch sight of Rose and Jehan’s appearance. The very thought made Rose tuck away the cross and pull her cloak’s hood further over her head as she carefully made her way over the cliff, not a sound being made by her as she glanced over the cliff.

Jehan had been almost correct; there was a camp full of men under the cliff, sixteen or seventeen to count from what Rose could spot, fingers signaling a succession of numbers behind her back for her brother to understand what was happening. They all looked worn out, tired from marching around in the freezing cold, she could only presume.

Her eyes narrowed in on six men sitting around the middle of a fire—well, four men and two boys, from the looks of things. Rose made sure to signal that to her brother as well. They were all unique in look and Rose’s eyes narrowed in confusion as she finally took notice of the group.

A mix of Danes and Saxons, she concluded, frowning as she spotted two of the six to be wearing Mjolnir around their necks and another two bearing Christian crosses. Curiously, her eyes drifted to one of the Christians; the tallest of the six, a blonde wearing garbs she only sees on monks.

It was modified, the sides ripped so he could possibly sit easier instead of being restricted by the long fabric, a sword hanging off his hips and a chestplate over the drabby beige clothing. Rose wasn’t sure what to signal, but she did her best to tell her brother what she saw with her hands.

"A… Warrior monk?” Jehan asked, voice echoing in their empty space. “The hell does that mean...”

Rose whipped her head, finger pressing against her lips harshly, heart pounding. She had yet to determine if they actually were trouble or not for them. She was too caught up in the group’s strangeness to notice the amount of weapons all of them had attached to themselves. Jehan’s eyes widened, shocked at his own loudness as well, slapping a hand over his lips.

Though that was too late.

“Whoever’s there, come out. Now.” A sharp voice, annoyingly familiar as well, ordered from below.

Sounds like Father. Rose would have mused to her brother if she hadn’t been on edge about watching these men. Her eyes glared at Jehan, who moved forward toward the cliff. Rose stayed as still as possible, body closely wrapped against the large boulders she had been laying her stomach against. Surely, she couldn’t be spotted—

“The same goes to your companion as well. Come out now.”

Rose let out an aggravated groan.

I just wanted to go outside…

- OSFERTH -

“How did he know someone else was with him?” Aethelstan asked, staring at Uhtred in wonder before turning his gaze back to the pair standing over them.

“Intuition.” Was all Osferth could offer, hand ghosting the hilt of his sword as the second figure maneuvered their way to their horse. The man already on his horse offered a stiff smile to Uhtred and Finan’s suspicious gazes.

“A fine morning to hunt, don’t you think?” The man tried to offer, the hooded figure beside him turning their head to them. Seems that even they found his ice breaker strange. From the corner of his eye, he could spot Sihtric move backward a bit, as if ready to melt into the shadows and come closer to them.

Looking back, Osferth could see the hooded figure trot their horse backward as well, as if sensing Sihtric’s movement. Osferth held a hand out to his friend, shaking his head. “The hooded one is watching you. Stay cautious.” He advised. Sihtric only nodded, keeping himself still instead.

Uhtred, always so blunt and brute, was quick to stay on the topic. “Who are you? What are you doing on this trail?”

“I could ask you the same thing, but we’re clearly all here for one thing: hunting, correct?” The man said. His dark hair, long and straight, blew with the wind as he motioned at the bow and arrow attached to him under his cloak. “What else can you do around here besides trade at Rumcofa? Besides, Blood Month is coming soon and we all know the pressures of that celebration as men, do we not?”

Cynlaef and Aethelstan nodded, making Osferth shake his head. Clearly, the man was trying to convince them of something else but he made a good argument; around this time men did go out hunting to practice. Finan was the next to speak up.

“You know of Rumcofa, yet we’ve never seen you.” Finan said, eyes glancing at the hooded figure. “And it seems like we have yet to see your friend as well.”

“She is hardly a friend. Torturer would be a better word.” The man states, earning a harsh slap in the arm by the figure. Finan snorted at the action. “She is my sister; wanted to accompany me and possibly hunt something as well.”

The man motioned for his sister to pull down the hood and Osferth was in no need to convince himself the pair were siblings. Their hair was jet black, both of their tan skin showing under the sunlight. Osferth was more focused on the girl, however, noticing the curls that were hardly contained when it gathered at the nape of her neck.

Still, Osferth can detect the discomfort on her face despite keeping it so still since she had removed her hood, unlike her brother, who seemed to be smooth at every motion he made as they continued their standoff. They were like day and night, despite their appearance clearly indicating they were possibly twins.

Finally, she spoke, eyes trained on Uhtred. “I apologize for my brother’s long winded explanations but he is not wrong; we are meant to hunt. We follow this trail often but it is a bit of a ways away and we never see anyone. Forgive us for not being too friendly at the beginning, lords. We like to remain cautious, especially in times like this.”

Uhtred nodded in understanding. Living in a village was troublesome enough; only those who have lived on their own outside of promised protection knew how much more dangerous it was to willingly trust random strangers on the road.

“I hope we didn’t scare any of the game you are seeking then. A few of our men hunted and managed to hunt quite a few animals.” An amused chuckle escaped from Cynleaf’s lips. Years of accompanying Uhtred let Osferth know it was a boast masked under a jesting. He watched as the siblings gazes settled on the dead animals stacked next to the fire.

The girl was seamless with her reaction, only offering an unreadable expression to Uhtred before saying, “I’m sure we’ll find something.”

Her voice was soft but Osferth could sense a bit of rigidness behind it, almost like the snowflakes gently coming off from the trees above and landing on warm skin; similarly, it sent shivers down his back when her voice came out. His mind wandered for a moment, questions arising left and right from his mind until he finally asked a question as the siblings pulled off from the cliffside.

“You didn’t answer the question.” He suddenly pronounces, catching everyone’s attention. His eyes locked on the girl’s own, widening as he noticed they were almost glowing from the rays of light. He was sure they were almost like gold, the color seemingly paling against the stone at the pommel of Uhtred’s sword. Gold. It looked like molten gold.

“You know of Rumcofa, yet we have never seen you there.”

A few men nodded, others looking expectantly at the set of siblings, knowing Osferth wasn’t wrong. It had been years since Rumcofa was built, Aethelstan being only a boy when they settled in the trading village. Now he was accompanying hunts, carrying steel weapons instead of practicing with wooden ones within the safety of the village walls. Throughout all those years, Osferth was sure he’d remember eyes that seemed to shine under sunlight.

He watched as the girl’s lips twitched, to a smile or a frown, he wasn’t so sure. Still, he garnered a reaction out of her and some sense of satisfaction consumed him. “We have lived here since before Rumcofa’s construction. We just wished to stay outside the village borders since we are self serving ourselves.”

Osferth nodded, taking her words to value, seemingly knowing she wasn't lying. Still, he wondered one more thing.

“What are your names?” It was Uhtred who asked the question, seemingly reading the ex-monk’s mind.

The girl opened her mouth, then closed it. She turned to her brother, who shrugged before they responded, one after the other.

“My name is Jehan.”

“My name is Rosemonde. I go by Rose.”

Rose. Osferth thought, staring at the woman thoughtfully. Rose.

Somehow he couldn’t keep the name out of his head, even when her brother, Jehan decided to speak. “It is not safe to be out here too long, lords. Even in broad daylight, there are many dangers out there you should keep watch for. My sister and I must go now. Bountiful luck to you all during your hunt.”

With that, both siblings rode off, before anyone could ask any more questions.

"Strange people.” Finan mused, Osferth nodding

Silence returned on the group, though Osferth’s mind seemed to be somewhere else, Rose’s name still repeating in his head, not wishing to forget it.

- ROSE -

“Bountiful luck?”

“Shut up.”

A look of amusement crossed Rose’s face as she eyed her brother. “You sure love hearing your voice, brother.”

Jehan sent a glare her way. “As if you could do any better, sister. You talk sweetly but look as if you’re ready to go into battle. I hardly think I’d be ever able to believe you if I were those men out there.”

Rose shrugged. “If they detect a lie, they would have had us taken away. Clearly they believed us. Besides, it’s not as if we aren’t hunting.”

She dismounted from her horse as she said this, walking toward one of their hidden traps set up not far from the trail. She listened for the crunch of the snow, ignoring Jehan’s call from behind.

“That monk sounded like he didn’t believe you!”

A smile made its way to her lips again, the idea of the blonde man wishing to know them so much amusing her. He was peculiar, she remembered thinking, watching his expression intently when she had given her name. She could see his lips moving, though she wasn’t sure what she could make him out from saying.

Rose was ready to speak once more, before a muffled scream had brought her back, the memories of the crunching snow and the warrior monk pushed to the back of her mind. She narrowed her eyes, realizing the trap she set up the night before had worked. The muffled screams turned to a panicked one as Rose made herself visible to the man trapped by the spikes dug under the soft piles of snow that were carefully packed together as if to seem stronger.

“Nasty wound you have there.” Rose responded, eyes narrowing in on the man’s leg, which had the five wooden spikes jutting out from it at the start of his ankle to just below his knees. His hair was matted and frosted over, clearly having been there for several hours. “Would be a shame if we left you here.”

“Please,” the man begged. “Let me free.”

Rose ignored him, procuring a dagger hidden beneath her sleeve. “Since you said please, I will.” The man sighed in relief. “But not before you answer some questions.”

The men let out another wail, only to be silenced as Rose struck the back of his head with the hilt of her dagger. She didn’t waste time to take out a sack from the bag hanging off her, bringing it over the unconscious man’s head. A four toned whistle was heard from a distance and Rose was quick to send a two toned one back.

From a large pile of snow close by, another dark head popped up. “He’s been screaming all day. I had to come around and shut him up a few times before he could spot me.”

“It was a good thing you did.” Rose says to her younger brother, remembering the warrior monk and his warrior friends. “Help me out, won’t you Saewin? This man probably weighs like a horse.”

Saewin only nodded, making his way around the pile of snow so quickly, Rose felt like some sense of time disappeared on her when he made his way over. They lifted the man by his arms and legs, Saewin huffing out of anger after taking careful steps closer to the road. “This man weighs more than a horse; he’s probably the same weight as Jehan…”

“Hey!” Was all Jehan offered, running to help his siblings drag the man onto the large cloth he spread out and attached to his and Rose’s horse. All three of them heaved sighs, looking at one another before nodding to one another in understanding as they stared at the unconscious man in front of them.

“Let’s go home.” Jehan mused. “Looks like we’ll be having a busy night.”

Rose only nodded, her gaze lingering longer on the man while Saewin moved to mount her horse, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach as she spotted a cross around his neck. Faintly, her fingers brushed against her own and a prayer was sent out silently, Rose praying that her way to Hell was as painless as possible before she finally made her way to her horse.

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[pupsandartwork]

Rose x Max

Rose likes simple things like a rose

[finanmoghra]

damn seasons

modern!Eadith x ofc

this is my entry for @emilyhufflepufftlk 500 followers challenge, congrats again Em!! the prompts I chose were cruel summer and 'tis the damn season, so this is a two parts story, and also this is my first oc story, i hope you like it! please let me know if you want to be notified when the second part comes out.

This is a story about a relationship that changes just as seasons do. This is the story of how Tove Kjartandóttir and Eadith Flowerdew turned from friends to lovers and then from lovers to strangers.

cruel summer

'tis the damn season (upcoming)

[morosemagick]

Lost Voices | Chapter 7

“I think that you are the one for me, 'cause it gets so hard to breathe

When you're looking at me, I've never felt so alive and free

When you're looking at me, I've never felt so happy.”

TAGGED:

@solinarimoon ​ @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites ​ @lauwrite1225 @93xdiagonxalley @trenko-heart @illjustgositinthecorner @blah-blah-blah-bla @lizblogging @saint-helga @osferth @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @mrsalwayswrite @amuddleofnervouswords @medievalfangirl

[smollangrycat]

Liv Of Bebbanburg

Name : Liv of Bebbanburg / Liv the Savage

age : 17 (Current)

Parents : Uhtred/Gisela

✨likes✨

warm fires, cozy beds Lightning (Thinks it’s pretty) Cooking joking Around with friends and family

✨Dislikes/Fears✨

Archers Big bodies of water ie, lakes (She can’t swim) Nuns (They scare her) childbirth (Her mother died birthing her brother)

“Liv is fiercely protective of those she loves and won’t let anything get in the way of there safety or happiness but that said she is always there to lend a helping hand and tries to make everyone smile.” -Uhtred

[arcielee]

Interview With a Writer

I know I usually do Ewanverse or HotD, but I fell in love with this story. Thank you @bhxrdy for indulging me and answering my questions. 💜 As always, Interview With a Writer is my ongoing series of the talented souls on Tumblr and ao3, and their brilliant writing!

Dividers by @saradika

Name: bhxrdy

Story: timeless

Paring: modern Finan x original female character

Warnings: Explicit/18+, be mindful of chapter warnings!

So, when did you start writing?

I started really writing, like 10 years ago now - right into 2013. I had discovered and gotten very into (I'm shy to say) k-pop, and at the time, social media was new to me. I had joined a couple of forums here and there, but really got into the thick of it once I joined Twitter and Tumblr. It was also then - for the 1st time - that I found out about fanfiction, which was an unfamiliar concept to me.

Its a bit blurry, but I remember I started reading a few stories here and there about my fave group at the time and - I don't remember the specifics but - I had eventually started coming up with wild scenarios, small ideas here and there, that I wanted to put down on paper.

Writing in general was relatively new to me (a few years before, when I was in high school, I was writing "poems" and other notes in a massive emo-like notebook - all because of a boy of course), so the idea of creating something substantial, like the fics I had read so far, was a bit terrifying but also kind of exciting because I stumbled on something brand new to me and was dying to be part of it along with some new online friends I had made (which I unfortunately lost touch with over the years).

Within the span of 2013-2015, I wrote 28 stories (on a 3rd party site) - a mix of one shots and multi-chaptered fics, which includes 2 unfinished stories - which were left to die by 2017-2018. I had finished school and started working, which totally changed my routine. The lack of interactions in the fandom didn't help either as by then, it was pretty much dying from the band's moving on and eventually disbanding. The stories are still there, my account is still there, as I don't have the heart to take it down. I've spent so much time on them, and loved every genre I wrote. I either went fluffly fluff or super angst and dark, all of them fun to write.

After that I moved away from the fandom as well and just the k-pop scene in general. I took a hiatus from writing altogether too - the will of it had died so I mostly focused on editing. And then, I started back again in 2020, wrote a couple of stuff on Tumblr (for the 1st time) until I stopped again a few months later. The inspiration stopped and I just couldn't bring myself to write anymore. So I moved away.

And then this year, TLK happened and I just had the inspiration back on the tip of my fingers, just swirling in my brain and was dying to write it down, so I gave it another shot and wrote my first Finan fanfic. It was very rusty getting back into it after so long but I'm glad I did because I got to meet amazing people which I'm grateful for.

I have a tendency of daydreaming a lot, I can easily get lost it my own head. Finding out I could actually just write them down, liberating everything I held up and see them face to face vs. just thinking about them, became a whole new ball game.

Where did the plot for timeless come from?

It hit me out of nowhere and happened when I was re-watching The Originals (TVD spin off). I'm not sure how, but it physically/literally stopped me in my tracks (mind you I wasn't doing anything special, just going to the kitchen to get a snack) as if I was hit on the head with it, like, "Yes! omg! shit! this is it!!"

I immediately picked up my phone and started typing random thoughts and notes down for the story. It was very rough, just generalized ideas of what could happen. Some of those ideas did change trajectory from where they started, but I'm hoping they were good changes and worth the story telling 😊

Watching The Originals helped with the inspiration. I knew Finan was always meant to be cursed, I just had to figure out the best way to present it. I also drew inspiration from other witch shows like Charmed, A Discovery of Witches, and BTVS. I love anything related to the supernatural and witchcraft, so it was fun coming up with the initial layout of the story.

At the beginning, I debated if it should be a one-shot or multi-chapter based on how much I had come up with. I was 99% sure I would stick with the one-shot, but eventually the 1% took over and I just went from there...the lines took a life of their own.

Explain your interpretation of Finan. What drives him? Why is he the way he is in timeless?

I was mostly trying to stay true to how his character was built on the show and transport that in writing within the concept of the story (I'm sure I've strayed, but hopefully that's alright).

When we first meet Finan, he's infiltrated modern day life as if he was part of that world, always. Then he meets a woman on a random night and everything changes for him.

Thinking of it this way, the man has been by himself for a thousand years - the life he knew, his family, his friends - everything from his past has disappeared and he is all alone, and so he was just at this point in his existence where he was done with everything, partly discouraged from being immortal, partly begrudgingly accepting of his fate as a man who will never die.

But then he meets Rebecca, a woman who has no inkling whatsoever of who Finan is, i.e. their meet up was random passing of time in the(ir) universe. Once they meet, his life alters. She was the light at the end of a tunnel, she was a beacon of hope. Meeting her, befriending her - he found purpose again. He was ready to fight again, to live like a normal man again.

Throughout the story, I tried to focus on this aspect specifically - on the basis that he is hopeful to become a free man again. And though, there is conflict within himself, to the point he was ready to give up again, I'd like to think that Rebecca was simply someone he needed in his life. Not because of what she could do for him, but because of who she was, as a character, as a person to him. She put her life on hold for him and in return, the universe gave them something that everyone wants - to love and be loved and not be so alone in the world.

Finan, having been alone for a century, found his drive through Rebecca - through her presence, always standing by his side and fighting for him. Them falling in love was an added bonus.

Do you feel Rebecca/Bex complement Finan in this?

I would like to think that she does, because she gave him a new spark into his life, allowing him to feel truly alive again - which was something he had been deprived off since his original lifetime (i.e. since the TLK era).

With Bex's stubbornness driving him insane at times, I think it also helped him on the hope aspect - she was willing to go to the ends of the earth for him, for someone she had just met all because she wanted to make things right, to help him (a stranger, when they met) find peace. She wasn't reluctant about it nor did he even ask for help (he was the apprehensive/suspicious one). And I believe, at the end of the day, it all came down to how they felt about each other from the night they met. They unintentionally nurtured a connection they created until it became so immense, they ended up wearing it naturally, like a second skin.

Not only was she his anchor to the world of the living, Bex had become the part of him that died a long time ago. This makes me believe - in a some kind of weird way - that she was his soulmate. That, despite the heaviness of the curse, Finan was meant to cross path with her, that the(ir) universe gave him a break in the form of a kind-hearted and stubborn as a mule witch. A woman who would end up gifting him a second chance, and the opportunity to experience the good aspect of life again (as well as love).

Where did the dreams and the curse lore come from?

The dreams part of the story was inspired by The Originals, as there is the concept of the “other side” where non-resting souls are (the cemetery/graveyard scene description was inspired by the one they have on the show) - so I leveraged it and made it so Bex was forced into contact with another witch while sleeping instead of through a spell (as she had no reason to contact the dead while awake).

For the curse, I knew what I wanted out of it as it was already part of the original draft when I first came up with this story idea. I knew where it was taking me and how I would want it built - the reasoning behind it though was a bit if the tough part which I had also integrated into the storyline with Bex losing her shit over it.

Any chance of a sequel? Or do have anything else you are working on next?

So, unfortunately no sequel. But it does not mean I haven't thought of an epilogue - or kind of. Just random scenes with Bex of what life is after the ending that randomly play out in my head. I don't think I'll want to write them mostly because I want to keep the ending as is.

I'm working through a few other stories at the moment. The priority ones are for Osferth (a one-chaptered drabble for your 1k celebration, and a multi-chaptered fic which will also tap into the supernatural concept), which I am hoping to get started - officially - very soon!

I have some others dangling as well, which should eventually come soon as well - this includes Finan, Sihtric and Aemond.

Do you have a personal favorite story you'd like to share?

There are so many to choose from! We Were Something, Don't You Think? by Maggie (@inthedayswhenlandswerefew), as well as Comet Donati and Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep?

Some other favorites include Wolf-Heart by @gemini-mama, Crimes of Passion by @itbmojojoejo, Sanctuary by @st-eve-barnes, and Winterwood by @lonnson

There is also a myriad of Finan x Aisling (OFC) fics by @persephones-journey which are heart-wrenching and good.

And Fire in Her Eyes by @emilyhufflepufftlk is another amazing one for Finan fans.

[ravenofthefandoms]

The Path of the Bear

Word Count: 2690 (nice)

Pairing: Leofric x Reader

Characters: Leofric of Wessex, Uthred Ragnarson/Uthred of Bebbanburg (brief), Mildreth (brief), Iseult (mentioned), King Peredur (mentioned)

A/N: First TLK post! They gave us a sassy, badass warrior that is absurdly large and slightly too old for me and since that’s exactly my type, I had to write about him. I want to make this a series as well, but I’m gonna start my Beric request after this and then my modern!Aemond fic/series to be hopefully. Also also, there’s a Grenn x reader sitting in my drafts rn. FYI, in this one I use italics for thoughts, which is new for me, so tell me if you like it! Also, I mention Grian who is, according to my five minute on Google, a Celtic/pre-Christian goddess of the sun, and specifically the winter sun. Since reader is Iseult’s sister in this, I imagine she would be a pagan, just not a Danish one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned. They belong to Bernard Cornwell and the producers of The Last Kingdom. I do not own any gifs used. They belong to their original creators.

The farmstead you had been camping near for the past few weeks was quiet. There was only one man who you ever saw near the house, and sometimes a woman was with him. Workers tended the fields and took care of the animals nearby, but they were always too busy with their daily chores to notice. You did not necessarily need to hide yourself well, typically just spending your days in the woods foraging or hunting if you could and your nights sleeping in the barn on the grounds. Once the workers all left for home after their day, the farmstead was empty save for the animals you roomed with.

It was not luxury and it was nothing like the life you grew up with. The life you had up until two months ago almost felt like a sweet dream. There was much of it you missed, like your sister and a day filled with nothing but chores and gossip. Then your sister left, married off to some king in Cornwalum for her skills as a gwarch. A mother’s gift, as your own mother called it. Something she inherited from her mother, who received it from her mother, and so on. Only you did not receive it. Your older sister, Iseult, did and she was quite powerful. Her bride price was very valuable, more valuable than you could have ever dreamed of bringing to your family. That did not stop your father’s efforts. It took two more years for him to find someone who would pay a good bride price for you. The day he told you that he found you a husband was the day you ran.

The bleating of the ewe drew you from your thoughts. A small smile formed on your lips as she stared at you, annoyed that you were laying in one of her favorite spots. You could not blame her. The hay was a nest, keeping you comfortable. “I can make room for you, but I will not move.”

Scooting over, you grinned and patted the ground next to you, as though she could understand your jest. Instead, the ewe seemed to glare at you before settling down in another little nest on the other side. Shaking your head, you settled back down into your little nest of hay before closing your eyes and drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

                                                             —

You awoke early, as you have done everyday since you started sleeping in the barn. The workers woke early too, so you needed to leave the barn before any discovered you in your attempts to hold the sheep. 

The trek back into the forest was quick, your surroundings becoming easier for you to manuever. Your first stop was the brook that ran through the country side. The cold water helped to pull you from the last of your sleep, waking you completely. You wanted to bathe soon, but you had not followed the brook far enough to find a spot deep enough. Instead, you began to forage for food, checking the traps you had set, smiling to yourself when two of your traps had successfully captured two rabbits. Two was too much to eat for just one meal but it would be just fine if you cooked them both now. Starting a fire later would not be smart, the workers on their way home would be more likely to see it.

                                                            —

Night begins to fall, watching from a ridge as workers began to go home. Once they were all gone, you snuck your way into the barn quickly, the final rays of sunlight twinkling through the trees. The sheep and the cows were in their stalls, along with a few new horses. You looked through a crack in the wall towards the hut. There was light coming from the house, but you did not worry. Surely it was just the lord and his wife who lived here. 

It was easy to shrug it off as you made your way to a spot towards the back of the barn, where you could watch the doors with ease. As you tore into your rabbit, your mind drifted back to the last days you had with your sister. 

You had wept as your elder sister held you, learning that she was leaving soon, and you were not prepared for the separation. Though you were 18 years old at the time, she was the only one who took care of you, loved you. She was always so gentle with you and always understanding. When her gifts came to her, she became your family’s jewel. Your parents preened over her constantly, your mother nurturing your sister’s gift. The work paid off and your sister’s abilities were soon sought after. It was a long time before they were sold. During that time, your sister taught you what she could, more about healing and herbs than seeing. When she did go into the woods to see, you went with her. Silence was kept between you, but you helped her as much as you could.

The last thing she said to you will always ring through your ears. “We will meet again, sweet sister.” She tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “But you cannot marry, not who father chooses. You simply need follow the bear. He will bring you back to me.” You nodded through your sniffles, holding onto her as tightly as you could. Moonlight shone on the two of you, raven hair shimmering beneath it. 

Two years later and you still had not found the bear that was meant to lead you. Though you were also not entirely sure how a bear would take you to your sister. Nonetheless, you trusted her sight and would be ready to follow.

The creak of the barndoor snapped you from your reverie. A tall shadow appeared and you cursed, scrambling to a stall. The resting cow looked up at you, lowing  as you approached in a crouch. You held your breath, drawing the dagger that you had tied to your waist. “Who’s in here?” A deep voice called, the signature hiss of a sword drawn from its sheath following, “I saw you. Come back out.” You cursed again before swinging out again, taking a low stance with your blade.

The man was much closer than you expected, with a torch sitting in a sconce between you. The flickering light revealed the scarred, though quite handsome, face of a very tall man. “What are you doing here?” His blade was level, though he did not appear to be very worried.

“Sleeping. The sheep make good company.” He scoffed at your answer. “What are you doing here?” You straightened slightly from your stance, trying to relax the tension. It was quite obvious to you that this bear of a man would have no trouble disarming you, let alone killing you. But there was still a chance you could talk your way out of it.

“The same, by invitation of the lord of this farmstead. Don’t think I can say the same for you,” he stated. You answered only with a shrug. “If I put away my blade, you will as well.” It was not a question, but you nodded your agreement anyways. He began to sheath his sword and you rose, putting your own blade away. “Been here long? Seem to know the locals quite well.” He nodded to the barn animals who had returned to their resting.

Another shrug from you. “A few months. They cried when I tried to leave.” He chuckled at that, looking you up and down.

“What’s your name?” You turned to look at the ground where the rest of your rabbit laid, tossed in your panic to hide. A beat of silence as you picked it up, brushing the hay and dirt from it before taking another bite.

“So many questions. I thought Saxons were supposed to be Christians and gentlemen.” You held out the rabbit to him, a peace offering. Despite having already eaten himself, he accepted.

“I’m deciding if I should tell the lord that you are here. He is not happy, and I do not think you would wish to cross paths with him this night.” There was a small twinkle of mirth in his eyes despite the serious sound of his words.

“(Y/N). Of Cornwalum. You?” He raised a brow. A Briton was not something he had expected to see in Liscumb but here you stood. 

“Leofric of Wessex. Can’t save I’ve met a Briton before.” He tossed the rabbit back to you before moving to sit in what looked to be a decently comfortable pile of hay. “How’d you get out here?” 

You finished the last bit of rabbit before tossing it into one of the back corners of the barn. “I walked, mostly. Ran a little bit. Even got to ride a horse for a while. Though the horse and the running were on the same day.” He chuckled at the mischievous grin on your face. “What is a warrior of Wessex doing sleeping in his lord’s barn?”

Leofric’s eyes followed you as you paced slowly, more out of boredom than nerves. He couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. Here you were, silver-tongued and beautiful, with full hips that were hugged by the pants you wore and alluring eyes that seemed to call to him from the very depths of his soul. For a man like Leofric, you were a sight to feast on. Though a God-fearing man, the ancient and arcane feeling that washed through him when he met your eyes had him questioning. “It’s my lord’s wedding night.” He smirked at you slightly. “I cannot say that I wish to be privy to it.” His eyes flicked back up after their southward expansion when you stopped, sights locking on each other. There was a beat of pregnant pause.

“Then do not worry, Leofric of Wessex. You shall have a silent night to rest.” A twinkle mirroring his own caused the great warrior’s heart to falter a moment. Though not entirely unfamiliar, the stutter was not something he had felt in quite a long time. With a final small smirk gracing your lips, you slipped into one of the nearby stalls where you were met with a small bleat of an ewe. “I told you, they missed me.” A soft chuckle was met to that.

“If you are to hold the sheep for warmth, then whom should I?” His flirtatious words made you grin, though he could not see it.

You responded without missing a beat. “The cow seemed lonely.” He gave another bark of laughter at this, and you couldn’t help the small laugh you let out. Laying down, you made yourself cozy in the bed of hay. Snow was falling that night, and a freezing wind blew through the cracks of the barn. A shiver ran through your body as you tucked your knees into your chest, another attempt to keep the warm in. After a while of silence, you were able to finally fall into blissful sleep.

                                                            —

Grian emerged from her slumber and the early rays of her light began to illuminate the sky. Your eyes fluttered open with a yawn following quickly. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes before rising quietly. Soft snores carried from the other side of the barn, affirming that the man from last night, Leofric, was still in the barn though sound asleep. With a final stretch, you stood and made your way out of the stall. Leofric leaned against the wall in the same place as last night, his head fallen to the side in his slumber. A soft giggle escaped your lips as you looked down at him. Such soft and small noises from a man so big were nothing short of amusing. 

Quickly and quietly, you slipped from the barn. The gray dawn of morning held the chill of the long winter night. Soon, you were free, traipsing through the woods as you began your day.

                                                            —

It wasn’t long after you left before Leofric woke. In fact, the soft knock of the barndoor closing was what roused him. It took a moment for him to truly wake, but when he did, he shot to his feet. Leofric took a few partially stumbling steps towards the door before yanking it open. To his dismay, you had disappeared before he could call out your name. The slight ache in his heart had nothing to do, he told himself, with the fact that you left before saying goodbye or anything else. 

With a sigh, he shut the barndoor again and leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes as he waited for the fog within his head to abate. One breath, two and then he righted himself. She would have been a good hump, he thought to himself almost forlornly. Deciding to give no further thought to it, he exited the barn and started for the hut where he hoped to find something to break his fast.

                                                            —

The day passed as any other, Grian warming the sky as much as she could. Her journey across the sky was unmarked yet unchanged, descending the same as it had ascended. As night fell, Leofric thanked Mildreth for the dinner in his hands, ready to make his quick escape to the barn. Pale dusk began to settle outside and, standing in the doorway, he could’ve sworn he saw a figure disappear near the barn. The air in the room was a bit… tense between Mildreth and Uhtred, but not in the way they had been when he yelled at her the day before. This was the tenseness of a wedding night, and Leofric had no intentions to find out if he was right.

“You do not wish to sleep in the house, Leofric?” Mildreth inquired politely.

“No, lady. The sheep will be missing me.” Uhtred snorted with laughter, eying his friend mischeivously. 

“Taking extra with you tonight, Leofric?” There was a gleam in Uthred’s gaze that reminded Leofric of why he had wanted to knock a tooth or two out of the arseling’s gleeful smile when they first met. “Worked extra hard today, I hope.”

Leofric glared at the arseling, tilting his head at the playful challenge. “Aye lord, I did. So hard, in fact, that I think I deserve this as well.” The taller man grabbed the horn of ale from Uthred’s hands before taking a long swig. “Well, I’ll bid you good night lady, arseling.” He gave them a curt nod before making his way to the barn.

Opening the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see you sitting across from where he had slept. “Missed the sheep?” he questioned teasingly.

“Aye. The one in the back, I’ve decided to call her Veldicca. She has been too great of company for anything else.” You were lying, of course. What you should have done was find somewhere else, gone anywhere else, but you didn’t. You came right back to this barn, and the reason for your return was now sitting across from you. 

Leofric chuckled as he stretched out his long legs in front of him. Grabbing one of the extra chunks of bread that he had taken at dinner, he tossed it to you. “Have you been thinking of me, Leofric of Wessex?” A shiver ran down his spine at the teasing tone of your voice. 

“Not at all.” Lie. You have haunted my thoughts all day. “I was extra hungry tonight, but I will be a gentleman and share my food with the lovely lady.” He gave you a small wink, which only made you return it with a small smirk.

You opened your mouth for a retort when the barndoor opened. Startled, the both of you jumped to your feet, hands flying to the pommels of weapons. “Leofric, I wanted to tell yo-...” Uthred stood in the doorframe, his words faltering mid-sentence when his eyes landed on you. A confused and somewhat concerned look graced his features, eyes flicking between you and Leofric. “Who is this?”

[sepublic]

            In The Last Knight, we get kind of a gag moment with the character of Berserker, who uses the exact same model as Crankcase. Megatron bargains for his freedom, but if Dreadbot was stretching it, Berserker is WAY too far, and Megs doesn’t even try to argue this, knowing it’s a long shot, and settles for someone else instead.

         Since Berserker is a copy-paste and I’m not really interested in doing those when the original suffices (see Grindor and Demolisher), instead… I’m going to make him Protoform X, an adaptation of the Beast Wars character for the Nizziverse.

         My reasoning is that they’re both (somehow, in Berserker’s case) a former member of the ‘good’ faction, with an X motif, as well as lots of sharp spikes and bits, and a monstrous face. They have a fixation with cannibalism and viscera despite being robots, and are noted as particularly deadly. So, I figured I may as well mash the concepts together.

         Protoform X was an Autobot experiment, headed by Prowl behind the others’ backs; Obviously, things went wrong and he joined the Decepticons to fuel his bloodlust and rage. Optimus was less than pleased to find out about X, and Prowl justified himself on the basis that research into immortal Cybertronians could save their race and also remove the moral ramifications of killing enemy combatants in war. Optimus tried to make peace with Protoform X and apologize for bringing him into this world like this, but X wasn’t listening and had to be contained.

         By The Last Knight, Megatron is halfway hoping to get Protoform X on his team, but given his grisly murder sprees of not just Cybertronians but humans too, it’s not happening anytime soon. Of course, in the ‘sixth film’ of the Nizziverse, Protoform X does escape prison and play a part in the plot.

         One dilemma I have with X is… Well, he ends up better known as Rampage, in the source material. But we already have a Rampage in the Nizziverse, and a prominent one at that; The Constructicon bulldozer. So is our immortal monster just going to have to remain as Protoform X? Constructicon Rampage DOES have an identical yellow twin named Skipjack, and Rampage himself was even referred to that name in the end credits for Revenge of the Fallen.

         So I might just go with the name of Skipjack and make him red instead of yellow, and give the name Rampage to Protoform X. I could also go with the idea that just as humans have repeating names, so too do Cybertronians, but Watsonian explanations aside, there’s a Doylist reason to have only one Decepticon named Rampage in the Nizziverse. What do you guys think, should there be a Constructicon named Rampage, and an Autobot experiment gone wrong named Protoform X? Or the Constructicon known as Skipjack, and the Autobot experiment Protoform X, who is renamed Rampage?

        And speaking of Beast Wars characters who are adapted for the Nizziverse’s TLK (which is fitting since TLK concept art had Beast modes), I’ve gone ahead with reimagining Dreadbot as an adaptation of Dinobot. He’s still called Dreadbot and will remain that way, to avoid confusion with the Dinobots, plural, who are also running around. I do plan for the Dreads to be redesigned to be sleeker and less overtly monstrous, to avoid Dreadbot just being a copy-paste of Crowbar’s appearance. I know I said I wanted to avoid the Decepticons looking too overtly monstrous, but with Dreadbot, I feel justified because he’ll end up redeeming himself in the sixth film as an Autobot, while still looking like. THAT.

[talesofourworlds]

A few questions from the mun meme!:

How do you describe writing / rp to others?

Are you happy with how your favorite canon muse was portrayed in canon?

Who was your first OC?

Appearance or story first when you develop an OC?

How do you describe writing/rp to others?

(ooc: Truthfully, I don't really. The last people I had to explain it to was the couple we were catsitting for back in 2022, and you were there so that helped. But otherwise I guess if I had to describe it, my go to would be 'Oh, it's like writing a story with another person where you control x number of characters and build off each other.' But since I don't really tell people I know outside the internet much about my roleplaying these days, with the exception of my sister who already knows, I just... don't.)

Are you happy with how your favorite canon muse was portrayed in canon?

(ooc: That depends entirely on the character in question, because for the most part I am happy with how each of them was portrayed. But then you get to characters like Alisha and it's like 'No I absolutely am not happy. She deserved so much better than the treatment she was given by the writers and the story and the world and let me tell you every single thing I wish was different.' But for characters like say... Rinwell. I absolutely love how she was portrayed, but I do wish we'd gotten a little bit more like I dunno, some conversation between her and Dohalim following everything with Almeidrea happening. But that's what fanfics and roleplay are for.)

Who was your first OC?

(ooc: The earliest ones I can remember are from before I was really online, and they were a pair of TLK lion cubs named Mirage and Onyx that were a white lion cub and a black lion cub respectively for... some reason. And also a The Cat Returns OC that was Yuki and Prince Lune's daughter who had rainbow wings for... some reason. They were terrible, but I kind of look fondly on them because it shows how far I've come. But I do not plan on bringing any of them back.)

Appearance or story first when you develop an OC?

(ooc: I know it should be story first, then appearance, but most often I'll do appearance first and then story. Like... for my Lunar OCs I mentioned in the previous ask. One specifically was done design first because she already had a basis, being an OC I'd originally come up with many, many years ago but again... revamped so she resembles absolutely nothing about how she originally was. Fun fact, she used to be a boy and had her name swiped from LotR, being Shadowfax. But now she's a girl and her name is Umbris. The rest came together as I worked out that their story takes place twenty-five years after Lunar 2, and was a mix of just what made sense for what I want to do and also various ideas screaming at me.

...Wow, y'all are really getting lots of little bits about my Lunar stuff today. xD)

[nxrdist]

Season Five Spoilers up to Episode Six

Fandom The Last Kingdom

Summary  Oistín, son of Finan and Tove, seeks out Stiorra to check on and comfort her if he can. Hurt/Comfort.

Words

Ship; Stiorra/Sigtryggr (mentioned)

Other relationships; Stiorra & Oistín (OMC), Finan/Tove(OFC)(mentioned)

Season Five Spoilers up to Episode Six

The flames were burning low in the hearth when a knock sounded against the door frame startling Stiorra. She had been staring so deeply into the flames that her mind was entirely transported -almost as though she too had left her body, though in a rather different manner than her dear Sigtryggr. Thoughtlessly she rubbed her chest where the dull ache of his absence pained her as she turned to face the intruder upon her peace.

In the half-light, she could make out a familiar form standing a tad awkwardly in the threshold clearly unwilling to enter the room fully. His hands were behind his back and his posture stiff, but Stiorra knew him easily. It was Oistín.

“Yes?” Stiorra spoke after a moment of observing him. She wished he had spoken first to save her the trouble of doing so. Her throat felt tight though she managed to sound near wholly normal.

With nary a moment’s hesitation, Oistín stepped into the dying firelight, but only just. “Stiorra,” he began but paused upon seeing her face. Her eyes were no longer red from tears instead held a tiredness. “I…only came to check on you.”

A slight frown tugged the corners of Oistín’s mouth as he spoke.

Clearing her throat Stiorra gave an absent nod. “Yes, of course. Well…I am fine. Thank you for your concern.”

Oistín hovered in his place clearly debating what he ought to do next. Part of him thought it best to simply leave having done the errand he set out to complete, but the other part of him knew very well that Stiorra was not at all alright. Sigtryggr her great love was dead. He could not comprehend the pain of such a loss. The closest thing to it he could equate was the loss of Osferth who was like an uncle to him and though it was a different sort of love the pain he felt was quite raw.

“The dead…” His voice wavered slightly. “They do not truly leave us.”

It was Stiorra who became rather stiff then as she turned her back to Oistín. Taking a breath through her nose and clenching her first around the fabric of her dress, she composed herself.

“I know. I will see him in Valhalla when it is my time.”

Pacing towards her, Oistín raised a hand to place on Stiorra’s shoulder in comfort, but she turned to face him just then. Oistín’s hand hovered in the air for a moment before he let it drop.

“You will Lady.” Said Oistín, his mouth suddenly felt dry.

She stared up into his startlingly blue eyes and it briefly occurred to her that she didn’t recall him being so tall.

“You won’t be staying in Jorvik.” Her words were matter of fact.

Oistín furrowed his brow at the sudden change in topic. “No, I’ll follow your father…and mine wherever the road takes them.”

“Our fathers,” Stiorra sighed.

The corner of Oistín’s lip twitched in amusement.

“How are they coping? …I heard about Osferth.”

Oistín grimaced.

“Fighting helps,” he offered with a slight shrug. “But mother near took a chip out of her sword hacking at the stone cross in the square… It doesn’t seem real.”

“No.” Stiorra paused a long time. Then with a far-off look in her eyes. “It does not.”

“Lady Aethelfled, Osferth…and now.” She almost choked but did not manage to utter Sigtryggr’s name. Instead, pressing on past it, she finished. “All for Edward’s dream, his father’s dream of England. How many more…?”

Oistín thought to argue but stopped himself. He could see how Stiorra blamed Edward. Though by that logic, she could simply blame the Lady Aethelfled for dying as her passing seemed the domino which tipped beginning the events that followed.

“I met him, Alfred, you know?” Stiorra said. “I was a young child then. He was so serious. Always praying.”

“My mother said much the same…and more.” Said Oistín.

Stiorra cracked a smile despite herself. “I am sure she has.”

Oistín smiled back gently. It was good to see Stiorra could still smile at all. He knew some became a shell of themselves in their grief over a loved one.

“Yes, something about a priest for each day of the week, though, father swears that was originally his joke.” Oistín ventured in an attempt to capitalize on the slight upturn in the mood. “Though you can never be sure with them.”

Stiorra exhaled a soft chuckle, but the smile on her lips wavered then and she turned back toward the hearth.

She whispered, “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Oistín said lowly.

Closing her eyes, Stiorra inhaled slowly through her nose to steady herself, but she could not bring herself to turn back to Oistín just then. It was strange, grief. They hadn’t even spoken of Sigtryggr. Yet laughing had struck her with a pain in her heart simply at not hearing him laugh with her.

Cautiously, Oistín reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for Lady.”

She wished to contradict him but could not open her mouth to do so just then. A few minutes of companionable silence passed between the two during which Stiorra looked into the dying flames and Oistín’s hand remained on her shoulder.

“He…I wish-“She pressed her lips together. “He should’ve listened to me. But Rognvaldr-“

Oistín waited to see if she intended to finish her thought, but Stiorra said nothing further.

“It was unlucky.”

“It was my father,” Stiorra countered softly. “He brought Edward.”

There was no denying that. So instead of trying, Oistín moved in and wrapped his arms loosely around her in a comforting hug. She stiffened then slowly relaxed into the embrace even raising a hand to rest on his forearm.

“I am sorry that we came.”

“I am only sorry at the result,” whispered Stiorra.

[writervaul-t]

The Ruined and its Damned

Summary: The mysterious death of certain individuals causes a Rose and her family's safety on the line. Desperate for answers, Rose must work with a group of warriors within Rumcofa to prevent her family from meeting an early death. The only problem: their presence was never made known to the settlement so now they must not only understand the reasoning behind the deaths but to also gain the trust of the suspicious settlers, specifically the newly placed Uhtred and his group of warriors sent to protect Rumcofa from any oncoming threats.

Pairing: Osferth x OC

Warning: Non-canon, spoilers if you’re not caught up to s5, blood and wounds, lots of fighting

ao3 post | prev chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Chapter Two: Godless Heathens

- OSFERTH -

Of all his years being part of Uhtred’s party, Osferth was quite used to being pulled out of slumber in the dead of night for whatever reason. He did his best to fight off sleep as he stood in the hall, eyes glazing over to his companions, who were also most likely pulled out of sleep from the way Sihtric leaned against a pillar and from Finan rubbing at his eyes.

Uhtred and Aethelstan, the latter of which had been the one in charge of manning the night’s watch, were the only ones wide awake, eyes alert. “A body has been found. Again.” Was all Uhtred announced. “Just outside the village entrance. His body was burned to the point of no return so no one knows who he is. Heavy cuts were all over his body, like he was tortured.”

“Just like last time.” Osferth muttered to no in particular, but it was heard nonetheless from the way Uhtred shot him a glance and offered a nod in confirmation.

“Just like last time.” Was all that was echoed. “He’s been buried already.”

Osferth only nodded at the notion, signing a cross silently out of respect but also in selfish relief. The last time he had seen a body similar to that condition, he nearly vomited out all the ale he had consumed that day. The day had been unfortunately etched into his memory. The snow hadn’t fallen, but the ground was cold. A day he expected to be no different than before had been interrupted when a child’s scream was heard past the borders.

Everyone, especially Uhtred and his men, ran immediately to the sound, only to find what seemed to be the remains of a man laying on the dirt, strewn about as if he had been tossed to the ground haphazardly. Osferth and Cynleaf had been the ones to bury the first man, but found it difficult to bury him in such conditions. As mentioned, the ground had been cold.

The dead man had put everyone on edge; mothers making sure their children never wandered far and when it was time to go to sleep, nearly everyone had been locked into their home. The only ones brave enough to stay up and out in the middle of the night were men who couldn’t sleep without ale or Uhtred’s men (though, Osferth could argue that it didn’t make much of a difference).

Uhtred ordered a select few of men to scout the areas, most of them finding nothing before he had decided to make a small party of men, saying larger groups should try and find something. All that was found was a pathetic excuse of a dirt trail that had not been seen by anyone, just far enough from Rumcofa for anyone to notice. They followed the trail for half the day, only going back to the village after Uhtred had said there was no use of wasting good men to hunt for something that might not even be there.

Days had since passed from their first party scouting and Osferth had a sense of innocent hope that nothing else was to come of this incident anymore. How naive that was of him to think, watching as the great hall in Rumcofa was near dead silent, despite it being consistent of the loudest men he has ever made an acquaintance with. 

“What do you want us to do?” Finan finally asked.

“Secure the area. See if anyone knows anything else.” Uhtred commands, grabbing his riding gear. A look of contemplation was evident on his face, clearly something else on his mind. “Come back here when the sun breaks; another search party. We can’t waste time.”

Everyone nodded, turning toward the door. The only ones who stayed were Finan, Sihtric, and Osferth, who seemed to have sensed something in the way Uhtred stared off into the distance. Once it felt as if the room was cleared, Uhtred turned to the three men, ready to speak his mind.

“That girl and her brother. They might be in on this.” Uhtred admits, holding his hand out to show a familiar bead in his hand. Osferth frowned, narrowing his eyes on the symbol, which had a tree inscribed on it. “This was found in the man’s beard. The same one I saw in the girl’s hair when we met them.”

The notion made Osferth frown even more, but didn’t question it. His mind drifted to that moment, when the girl pulled her hood down, to her long black hair. She did have beads in her hair and he hadn’t seen anything like them; encrusted in gold instead of the usual silver he sees and no doubt a valuable item to have. So why was it found on a dead man? An unsettling churn was finding itself in his stomach as he examined the bead between his fingers.

Passing it along to Finan and Sihtric, he looked at Uhtred. “What do you need us to do?” He asked, ready to follow whatever it was Uhtred had to say. 

“I need you and Finan to check the trails where we met the girl and her brother. See if there’s something from the trail that could possibly lead to the man. Stay hidden as best as possible..” Uhtred commands, pausing for a moment, lips set in a tight line before turning his attention on Osferth. “You spoke to the girl the longest, almost even got a reaction out of her. If you find her, do your best to keep a distance from her, baby monk.”

Osferth felt as if his mouth had been sewn shut at the warning, embarrassment flooding through him as he only offered a nod of understanding, the implication behind Uhtred’s words as clear as day. He was used to it by now, the jesting and teasing of his disposition around women from his companions after all these years. For some reason, he felt like the young monk that had just left the monastery once again as he watched Finan and Sihtric send him a teasing look.

He only let out an annoyed sigh, making sure to send a harmless punch at Finan’s shoulder, his eyes narrowing for him to not say anything anymore as they made their way to the stables.

- ROSE -

“Nice to see you here.” Rose calls, making the figure several feet ahead of her nearly jump from his spot. The man heaved a great sigh, giving the girl an irritated glance while she supplied an amused one as she trudged through the snow.

“Scared me half to death, Rosemonde.” The man said sternly as the girl stood beside him.

“Do you ever venture outside those walls nowadays, Father Ricard?” Rose asks. “You were never this afraid before the settlement was built. Rumcofa’s made you soft.”

“Rumcofa’s made me realise there's a lot more dangers to fear than what I initially thought.” The priest counters, lip stiffening as he glanced back at what was in front of them. “I still would like to come see my sister, however. That, I am more than willing to leave the settlement for.”

Rose offered a sullen smile, glancing at the tombstone in front of them. “I'm sure my mother enjoys your company.”

“Do you enjoy my presence, Rosemonde?”

“I do, uncle.”

“But not as much to visit me at Rumcofa.”

At those words, Rose bristles. She opts to stay silent, looking at the wooden cross staked into the ground, her eyes focused on the carvings she made last year; a mix of Christian symbols and Danish runes littered the cross, most for protection for her mother’s journey to Heaven and a few prayers that essentially begged God to allow such a woman in to the gates.

If she had to beg God to let her mother into Heaven, then what of Rose? Her mother didn't have to do what she did. Would there even be a place for her in Heaven? She would most definitely not find herself in Odin’s hall, either. At this point, the reminder of having a lack of possible salvation made her send her uncle a look of lost hope.

“I do not believe I will be happily accepted into your home.” She responds, matter-of-fact. “Last I remember, Friar Timult practically damned us to your Hell when I accidentally pushed over the offering candles.”

Ricard sighed. “You were eleven and Friar Timult is, and pardon my language, as tight as the devil’s arse about procedures done at the church.”

Rose smiled. “Nearly passed a decade and I still hear from Saewin that he warns townspeople about ‘godless heathens’ outside the gates.” She watched as her uncle’s lips set to a harder line. His eyes, so similar to her mother’s, become foggy at the mention of godless heathens.

She raised an eyebrow. “What news has come now?”

“Vragi. He was found dead just this morning.” Ricard says, staring at the wooden cross solemnly before casting a glance at Rose. “They're suspecting a couple of godless heathens had done it.”

The implication was as subtle as a knife to the throat. A sense of worry had her mind running all the possibilities of what could come over her. Worry laid over Rose, her stomach lurching as she processed the information. 

She had just seen Vragi, the old man, stopping by her family’s home almost a week ago, asking to be lent some gold to buy more feed for their shared cattle. Rose had given one of her hair beads to him, a joke about giving more feed for her family surfacing in the midst of drinks being passed around that night before he bid them goodnight.

She had only assumed he travelled far, not being able to return for the next few weeks due to the amount of feed he would have had to buy. The last thing she expected was for him to turn up dead. Her mind thought back to him, committing to memory his kindness and how beloved by their small community. His wife must still be waiting for him, she thinks to herself, letting out a sigh as she realized that she would be the one who has to break the news to her family to signal warnings to the others.

Rose shakes her head, unsure how to continue as she feels Ricard look at her expectantly.

“These godless heathens they’re mentioning…” Rose implies, Saewin crossing her mind. He had been the one always willing to venture into Rumcofa while her and Jehan stood near the settlement instead. If they had seen him then he would have to stay inside the home for a while.

“Mainly town gossip,” Father Ricard reassures. “Sounds like they’re just saying it to warn their children to not walk past settlement boundaries.”

“But they’re still talking about godless heathens…” Rose trails off, making her uncle nod. “That’s not good for us. Surely, some believe it?”

“A few months ago, a man was found the same way Vragi was. It left the town shaken and wanting answers. Talks around the town were saying they spotted someone dressed like a Dane just outside the walls; they were quick to settle on that suspicion and continue to believe it.” Ricard explained, looking at Rose’s wool and fur lined shawl peeking beneath her cloak.

Silence settled over them, the young girl finding her mother’s grave more interesting than whatever she just heard for a while, savouring the milliseconds of blissful ignorance before speaking once more. “My family is not safe.” She denounces, an alertness finding itself in her once more as she looks around, panicked.

“The warriors posted around the settlement are starting to believe it. They’ve been coming around the trail you and your brothers frequent. People have been restricted from leaving recently as well. I only managed to leave after the day's break.” He explains, confirming Rose’s concerns. “I cannot stay here for too long, but I just wished for you to know.”

Rose nodded. “Thank you, uncle. You must have travelled here against your own safety so I’ll make sure to let my brothers know.”

The man raised his hand to smooth out the unruly curls that escaped from her hood. “My niece, the diplomat.” He mentioned, laughing when Rose rolled her eyes as she whispered something about diplomats not hiding blades in their sleeves. “I must leave. I’ll make sure you have your alone time with Melissande.”

He walked away, leaving Rose and her mother alone, the wind carrying any sense of voice Rose had previously. She lifted a hand to brush off the piles of snow settled on the cross, a whisper of a prayer leaving her lips as she continued to clean the area around her, the snow being pushed aside until the ground beneath the sheet of white was finally revealed.

She sat down after a hushed Amen. Her mouth opened, words never finding itself settling on her lips as she examined her mother’s grave. Rose couldn't remember a time where she spoke to her mother; her voice was as lost as she is whenever she tried to conjure the will to speak.

Instead, she wiped her cross and grave so it can see the sky better and offered a prayer—Christian or pagan, whichever one suited the day—before trekking back home. Today was no different, though Rose made sure to add extra carefulness to her prayers as her uncle’s words repeated itself in her head.

“Saewin.” Rose calls out, the earth and snow almost silencing her already soft call. “Saewin, I know you are there.”

She spun around, glaring at the treeline her brother was most definitely hiding behind. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at the farther end of the trees, her vision failing to distinguish if the movement nearby was a person or a large branch.

Faintly, she was sure she saw brown cloth tugging against the trunk of a tree she was focused on. Taking a step forward, she leaned closer as she did her best to focus better on it.

“Are you just going to watch the trees all day?” Saewin’s voice cuts through from behind, making Rose jump. 

She hadn’t given herself a second to think as her hands automatically signalled for the blades hidden in her wrists to release itself, only stopping herself from pressing the knife against Saewin after recognizing a familiar set of gold-brown eyes.

“Idiot.” She snaps at him, retracting her blade and punching his bony shoulder. “I could have killed you, Saewin.”

“What were you looking at?” Her brother asks, ignoring Rose’s chastising glance over her shoulder. Rose turned back, looking back at the treeline, narrowing at the empty space. “Rose?”

She only shook her head in response, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. “How much did you hear?” She asks him, watching him glaze his fingers over the cross in front of them.

“Everything.” He admits, offering a concerned glance back at her as he walks past her. “I’m assuming we should have our honoured guest released?”

“No. If Vragi is dead, then he really does know something and we need to pry that out of him.” Rose says, manoeuvring around the trees carefully as they try to make their way back to the beaten path back home. “Has he said anything about why he was near the borders?”

Saewin gave a disappointed grunt. “Only a few things. Said he was just out hunting for—”

“Blood Month, right.” Rose said with an eye roll, remembering Jehan’s words from a few weeks ago. The man had most definitely not been out hunting, Rose recalling the man hadn’t had any gloves—a small detail to note, but an important one nonetheless if someone was going to practise hunting for hours for an important event like Blood Month. “What else?”

“He said he’s one of the warriors at Rumcofa.” Saewin says, making Rose nearly whip her head around at him. They stared at one another, their uncle’s warning fresh in their minds.

The sudden crunch in the snow caught both siblings’ attention. Rose reached for her blades behind her. From the corner of her eyes, she spotted Saewin reaching for the axes strapped to his hips, though she kept her eyes forward, staring at the treeline she had looked at earlier.

“Rose—” Saewin started, ready to tug at her hands as she crept closer to the trees, squinting in the darkness ahead. Within moments, the snap of a twig caused both siblings to nearly jump out of their skin.

Without a second thought, Rose found herself shoving her brother forward, screaming, “Run. RUN!”

Rose felt like her heart had dropped to her chest as she darted around the trees, only keeping focus on Saewin’s back and the hurried steps just behind her. Faintly, she could hear someone calling for them to stop. Rose could only hear the blood rushing to her ears as the calls continued, adrenaline and fear overshadowing anything else she had to process.

Her body felt like it wasn’t her own. Weaving around the countless trees in the snowy woods was something she was familiar with, though the countless times she had been running this course, it was her laughing as her brothers chased after her. If she wasn’t attempting to save her own life, she would have found this situation more amusing that she was doing the same thing but for different purposes.

“Stop!” A voice called out, the sharpness to it unfamiliar to Rose as she darted around a mass of trees in an attempt to slow them down. Her ears perched as she heard the voice yell something to someone else and fading footsteps.

There’s more than one person, but how many? Rose thought as her eyes darted around where she could see, trying her best to spot any suspecting shadows or people manoeuvring around from beside them.

A grunt from Saewin made Rose pause completely, turning to see his foot catch onto a branch, flinching as his chin brushed harshly against a stone. Quickly, she grabbed his arm, giving him a once over (his chin had been completely red, though she was sure it was just a deep cut) before helping him on his feet to keep him running. A set of footsteps approached them and Rose found herself reaching behind for her daggers with one hand, the other grasping her brother’s arm tightly.

She pushed herself in front of Saewin, blade pressed against the side of her arm as she watched a growing shadow come forward in the clearing they were at. Rose grit her teeth as she felt Saewin press against her. “Do not approach.” Rose snapped, making the shadow pause at the sound of her voice.

“We just need to talk, lady.” The shadow calls out, this one familiar to her. “You mentioned the dead bodies—”

“We know nothing.” Rose counters. “We only heard about them.”

“You said one of the men’s names.” The voice says. “We hadn’t even known about his name. Not to mention, you apparently have one of our men.”

“Christ, how much did he hear?” Saewin whispers into Rose’s ear, who only shook her head as she backed them away when the man slowly exited from the shadows, a weathered brown tunic familiarising itself to her.

The warrior monk was much taller than Rose had anticipated, the man nearly towering over Rose and her brother as he held his hands up to her when he spied her blade. “I only need to ask questions.”

“Like hell.” Rose quips again, pointing her blade forward to the monk. “You’ll have us killed.”

“I promise I will not.” The man responds, keeping his hands up and motioning to his sheathed sword. “My sword is away, as you can see, yes? My hands are also up. Let us—”

Whatever words he had yet to say were quickly silenced by Saewin, who had been constantly whipping his head from side to side, as he swung his axe behind him, the metal of the blade offering a shrap clink! as it collided with another man’s blade. She recognized him as the one who stood beside the warrior monk all those weeks ago. She also remembered how ready he was to draw his sword if Jehan were to say something suspicious during their conversation.

Saewin’s actions alone made Rose move as well, pulling out her second dagger from behind to swing at the warrior monk, who dodged her swipes. From behind, the sharp smacking of swords could be heard, though it was faint to Rose as she kept a heavy gaze on the warrior monk, waiting for his next move as he withdrew his sword.

“I only wish to speak!” He repeats, bringing his sword up to block a dagger, quickly manoeuvring away when Rose brings her other one up to aim at an opening he left.

A curse nearly spits out of Rose as she motions toward the fighting men behind them. “Your friend didn’t seem to think the same way.” She responds before turning and throwing one of her daggers toward the short haired brunette still fighting Saewin. She watched as the edge of the knife caught against his sword, almost ready to strike down against Saewin if she waited any longer to throw her dagger at him.

“Christ—” The brunette curses, the sudden movement nearly causing him to tip over before dodging another one of Saewin’s swings.

“Wait!” The warrior monk starts, ready to grab her arm but was stopped when Rose ducked under his arms. The blade remaining on her other hand found its way to his throat, seemingly seizing the fight at the notion of someone’s life could be finished with just a swipe. Regardless if a blade is placed on him, the monk held Rose’s murderous gaze. Faintly, she could feel Saewin press his back against her’s, most likely having his axe pointed at the brunette.

“Lady, please—” The monk starts.

“No. You do not speak with my blade to your throat.” She snaps, not taking her eyes off him as she nudged her brother’s foot, her voice switching to their father’s Norwegian tongue. “Take my blade and go.”

Saewin snaps his head at her. “What—?”

“Take my blade and give it to Father.” Rose instructs again, using both men’s confusion to her advantage.

“Rose—” Saewin says, but stops when Rose shoves him away from the men, sending him a hardened glare as she swipes at Saewin’s opponent with the blade hidden under her sleeve.

“How many knives you got you?” The man snaps, hissing when the edge catches his arm.

“Run!” Rose snaps at Saewin, swiping her larger dagger at the monk, knicking him slightly on the neck and cheek when he hadn’t moved fast enough.

“Hold her down.” The brunette snaps, voice sharper now that she had struck both of them. There seemed to be an unspoken conversation going on between the two, much like how Rose had with her brothers, as there was a pause between the two of them when the shorter man gave the order. “Osferth, hold her down!”

What sounded like a groan mixed with a struggling sigh escaped the monk as he grasped Rose by her arms tightly. She was sure she felt her shoulder connect to his collarbone from the hiss of pain when tried to swing herself away from his grasp, trying to see if Saewin had managed to run off yet.

She was sure she saw a flit of his cloak brush past a tree, far away from where they are, making her feel better a little as she felt something hard hit the back of her head, sending her into a void of darkness.

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tags:

@mischiefmanaged71

[bird-on-a-wire20]

Fanfic: haunt all of my what-ifs - Sihtric x OC

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26417515

[morosemagick]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

HOOO HOO HOO BRAGGIN' RIGHTS YOU SAY?!

Thank you Ana for sending this to me ! I appreciate it so much! 💜

If I'm gonna toot my own horn over anything, it'll be these fics right hurrrr:

Songs of The Unbroken: obv. #1. It's my 77 Chapter, Completed Finan x OC fic that follows along with the plot of TLK from S2 - S5 ft my baby OC: Sigrid Kjartansdottir. The older half sister of our favorite rat lemon boy, Citrus - I mean Sihtric. If you like all of the angst and 3 years of really stupid people pining over each other this is the fic for you. Working on the sequel currently: Children of the Unbroken!

Lost Voices: this is my current baby!!! A Sihtric x OC fic about a girl named Rosaline Blaine who accidentally gets yeeted through time with nothing but her iPod. Friends to lovers, full of music references, may be an actual comedy idk this fic writes itself lmao

The For My Sisters Series: this is actually two separate fics (and one I have yet to finish because I am a clown) but these fics are about my OC Sigrid and my friends OCs, Lucinda (@emilyhufflepufftlk ), Saegyth (@lauwrite1225) and Cwen (@solinarimoon ) who here are sisters who've traveled to England from Frankia to find peace with their father, Frode. Fic one is Valhalla May Find Me and fic two is My Heart Will Mend. The third will come out.... Eventually 🤡

Finally Woken: A short 10 Chapter fic about, you guessed it, Finan and my OC: Sigrid, but with a modern twist. This is a story of how they fell in love, except told backwards. Also with a tone of music references. And two idiots pining. You see I have my thing.

From The Skies, Watch Them Fall: So this short 5 chapter fic is probably really niche but I am really happy with it. The story is a TLK x Original Works cross over featuring a character from a book I'm writing in my spare time who accidentally ends up in TLK world. It's very very niche and has like 50 hits on AO3 but I really love this fix okay?! 😭

[artemiseamoon]

What I’ve written & plan to write: March, April, May 2022

See previous ones (writing roundup ups)

Steven Grant /Moonknight

Our lonely hearts

…

Oscar Isaac

Inside Llewyn Davis

Triple frontier

All the guys / Will pairing

A lighthouse in the dark

All the guys appear / Santi focus

A little bit of hope

Santi focused

Soft mornings

Benny only

When birds sing

…

The Punisher

Billy Russo

Untitled

…

Mayans MC

Reader,Manny, Angel

If this is our destiny

Will Medina

headcanon 1

Ez Reyes

The Best Gift

Angel Reyes

One more round

…

Vikings

Ubbe

The Chaos of Desire

Ivar x reader , Hvitserk x reader

What do we do with you now

Hvitserk

Le vampire pt 1 of 3

…

Sons of Anarchy

Jax x ofc | omc x ofc (Jon Bernthal)

The longest ride 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

…

Narcos

Javier Peña

Room 322

F reader x Javi x Carrillo

How much longer

…

Pedro Pascal - Characters

Ezra

Queen of poisons update! Ch 7

Marcus Pike

You are my #1

Second chances

Jay Castillo

Dreamland

Nico (house comes with a bird)

A taste of honey preview

Dieter Bravo

Nothing but trouble

Agent Whiskey

The real you

Ezra

Love on the green

Minx

Ofc & minx crew

Wrap party

Peaky Blinders

Tommy

Back to life

Original story - Wisteria & Moonlight - in progress

Original story - Dark Shadows -on hold

Mayans Mc

Moon Knight

Sons of Anarchy

Character - Jay Castillo (see link in section above)

Steven Grant | Moon Knight

Dieter Bravo | preview Nothing but trouble | His muse

Minx hbo - wrap party

Inside Llewyn Davis - 37 letters

WIPs & upcoming updates

Pero Tovar

The terms of enchantment  ( pt 2 update)

Man with the dark eyes

Max Phillips , Eddie, ofc

How to be a vampire (pt 2 update)

KJ (Mayans Mc)

3am

Omar Assarian

When the lights go out

Ofc, Werewolf Ezra

Queen of Poisons

Ben Barnes

Requiem

Ofc, Poe, Mando

Azure

Oc, vikings, tlk

Riders of the Storm

Rogue One

Masterlist

*Tags? No longer curating long lists or forms. I will tag on a wip-by-wip basis. Ask to be tagged or sign up for notifs.*

Are you following something that’s not on the list? Don’t worry, it’s likely on my overall wip list

Masterlist

WIP list | wips spring 2022

[aadmelioraa]

tlk spoilers and salt beneath the cut, seriously do not click the read more unless you want to see unfiltered critical thoughts and major character death spoilers

ok i’ve had a day to process and can confirm that aethelflaed dying in uhtred’s arms so that her death could be all about him is in fact my villain origin story...i fully acknowledge this is a personal opinion informed by 1. my fascination with historical aethelflaed/adoration of show aethelflaed, 2. my frustration towards her writing much of the time, and 3. my dislike of uhtred x aethelflaed, but the relationship simply does not compel me and it never has...there isn't any real chemistry between the actors imo (which is weird! they are both very talented and have chemistry with tons of other cast members!) and the writing never justified what we were told about the nature of their bond. it could have been so interesting, they could have explored or explained how and why they were drawn to each other, but they never did throughout the course of the entire show. the convo between them at the end felt like retconning to me...i hated it, i really did. i know tlk is the uhtred show not the aethelflaed show, but i'm still annoyed.

additionally, i think it detracted from brida's death since it was essentially the same beat. i wondered for a second if maybe uhtred would be too late to see aethelflaed, that would have actually been interesting for him imo. but then he wasn't, and that moment and brida's both got tied up so neatly and in such a similar way it really diminished the impact for me.

on a positive note, the aelswith/uhtred grief scene was lovely and so well done, that really worked for me on every level.

[whenimaunicorn]

The Last Kingdom Fanfic Masterlist

Uhtred x Reader - Pretty Boy - Danish warrior Reader falling for Uhtred 

Uhtred x Aethelflaed - That Will Not Convince Anyone - just a little fake-married fun

Uhtred x Skade - I Will Not Worship You - didn’t one little part of you want to watch him give in to her?

Uhtred x Hild - Too Good A Woman - Hild tries to comfort a drunk and lonely Uhtred. He’s even harder to shut down than usual.

Uhtred x Reader x Sihtric - It Would Be An Honor - smutty threesome; Sihtric asks for permission to marry, and Uhtred decides he will test the girl before approving. Sihtric more than he dared to hope for from his Lord.

Uhtred x Reader (me) x Ragnar the Younger - Splash - threeway in the pool; frat boy AU, self-indulgent kinky smut.

Uhtred x Reader x Ragnar the Younger - You’ll Just Have to Have Two - flirtatious modern drabble about these two teasing you into submission.

Ragnar the Younger x Original Female Character x Brida - Lessons - slow burn, multiple chapters, eventual polyamory

Finan x Reader 

   Guardian Angel - hurt/comfort fluff

   I’m sorry I’m not what you prayed for - Pirate AU

   we are in this together - crossover with Vikings’ Ivar the Boneless

Finan x Aethelflaed - Yield, With Intent - the Lady of Mercia takes a lover

Sihtric x pregnant!Reader - Ripe

bonus crack: OFC plays slap/kiss/fondle with Uhtred, Finan, and Sihtric

Spooky Drabbles (tlk-tober)

Iseult the ghost

Uhtred the vampire

Sihtric the seiðmann (witch)