#also i love blonde eivor but

[xolaanii]

EIVOR 'WOLF-KISSED' VARINSDOTTIR ASSASSIN'S CREED VALHALLA dev. Ubisoft

[jikanet-tanaka]

My dumb ass keeps thinking about an ACV longfic idea (kind of a sequel taking place around 899 while Edward the Elder is king of Wessex)...

Here how it would goes:

Main characters:

Eivor Oswaldsdóttir: The daughter of King Oswald of East Anglia and Queen Valdis. She is short like her father (has his thick eyebrows too!) with green eyes and dark curly hair tied in a messy ponytail. She isn’t the talkative or sociable sort, and she spends most of her time hunting and living on the fringe of society. She loves her family, but since her elder brother Eohric is the king of East Anglia, she doesn’t enjoy visiting home much (too many people sticking around the royal court for her taste). The death of her father in her youth in a battle against Wessex insurgents is a wound that has not quite healed. Like her brother, she carries a grudge against West Saxons for that reason.

Sigrún Gullveigsdóttir: The bastard daughter of Sigurd, conceived when he was fighting alongside the Ragnarssons in Ledecestre. Her mother was a shieldmaiden under Ubba’s banner. Not long after the Danelaw was established, Gullveig, now dying, brought her daughter to Ravensthorpe. However, Sigurd had already left England by that point. The girl was thus raised by Eivor and Randvi as if she was their own daughter.

Sigrún was injured in her youth, and she needs a cane to walk. She is sweet-tempered and sharp-witted, though deep down she has some insecurities, especially since she feels she can’t quite measure up to her legendary mothers, who were both prodigious warriors. She has also abandonment issues caused by Sigurd’s absence in her life. Sigrún is of average height, with blond hair tied in a plait behind her back. She wears her birth mother’s kransen, the only memento she has left of the woman.

Aethelflaed of Mercia: The oldest child of Aelfred of Wessex. She married the much older Aethelred of Mercia in 885 to unite the two kingdoms; together, they have one daughter, Aelfwynn. Aethelflaed is her father’s daughter in every way, blessed with a strategic mind and a courageous heart. She dislikes her family’s link to the Order of Ancients and the nascent group that will one day become the Templars. For this reason, she does not trust in her brother Edward’s intentions, nor does she wants to support her cousin Aethelwold in his rebellion. She is nearing thirty of age, and she has brown hair gathered in a neat bun.

Edward of Wessex: The king of Wessex following Aelfred’s death in 889, and Aethelflaed’s younger brother. He is more militant than his father, both in his desire to conquer the whole of England to purge it of pagans, and in his new position as Grand Maegester of the Order of the Ancients.

Aethelwold of Wessex: Aelfred’s nephew, who is challenging Edward’s claim to the throne since his father was Aelfred’s older brother. He is a schemer who wishes to restore the Order of the Ancients to its old glory (his father Aethelred was King of Wessex and Grand Maegester before Aelfred got the position).

Eohric of East Anglia: King of East Anglia, and Eivor’s older brother. He is a charismatic and well-liked figure, though he tends to ask rashly in the absence of wise counsel.

Among the characters from the game, you’d have cameos from people like Hytham and Valka. I haven’t decided who else is still around. Maybe it would be funny to have like, old Birna and/or old Vili still kicking around and making nuisances of themselves?

 Story elements:

- Eivor and Randvi left Ravensthorpe together (again this is a way for me to say eff you to that last DLC).

- There is a civil war going on between King Edward of Wessex and his cousin Aethelwold; the latter has the support of the Danelaw, including King Eohric of East Anglia.

- Meanwhile, in the shadows, the two are battling for their own vision of the future form of the Order of the Ancients. They both seek an Isu relic of great power to achieve said vision.

- Aethelflaed is aware of this and wants to find this relic to keep it out of their hands. Through a strange set of circumstances, she enlists the help of Sigrún of Ravensthorpe (who has knowledge of Hidden Ones stuff thanks to Hytham and Eivor) and Eivor of East Anglia (who is a lot like her namesake when it comes to being sneaky and killing stuff). The latter two both want the relic in order to protect their respective people from Wessex’s might.

[syninplays]

If looks could kill <3

[deimcs]

it’s me and my dark haired eivor propaganda against the world

[itseivwhore]

Now:

I saw a man so beautiful I started crying

Beautiful boi

[kiatheinsomniac]

Hello again, I'm the anon from before... I have a request, if you can write it... it would be male Eivor x f!reader... Eivor meets a lady and has to fulfill some tasks to get an alliance for the Raven Clan, but he ends up falling in love with her and things get hot between them... (sorry my first language is not english lol) thanks and xx 😘💚

“That is my offer.” You laid it out before him, standing over the table that showed where the Raven Clan had established their alliances in England thus far. They had been making good progress.

You had come to Ravensthorpe on behalf of your people in a town just a 15 minute ride by horse away. You were agriculturalists which meant you were rarely hungry but also quite defenceless and a target to those without food. You had come here alone considering that your town’s people were not too fond of these norse and danish settlers but their pride and prejudice would be the death of them. The previous day, bandits had stolen five cattle and set a silo on fire in retaliation to the farmer trying to stop them. He had been burnt to a crisp trying to preserve the grain.

“Five percent of your harvest goes to my town’s people…” The norseman before you began, “And a system of trade established between us.”

“In exchange for your protection, yes. My people are not fighters, Eivor.” You paused to let out a sigh, rolling your eyes, “In fact, they’re quite stupid too when it comes to the wider picture, I’ve had to come alone because they’re thick-headed enough to want bandits to pillage us more than they want protection from your people.”

“And you don’t harbour this same disdain for my people?” He raised a brow, crossing his arms, looking rather amused.

“You’ve never wronged me but bandits have. Sure, I’ve heard tales of monasteries being raided and burned but…” You scrunched your nose distastefully, “When famine strikes and all those monks sit around their feasts in silence, what do they give us? Prayers. They give us empty words and false hope instead of bread to feed our starving families with. I say let them burn and if you take their gold when you do it, it matters not to me.”

“You seem like a cold woman.” He spoke, a tone of amusement in his voice.

“I’m logical, not cold.” You corrected, leaning against the table.

“What would you have us do to secure this alliance, if your people do not like us?” The woman with fishtailed brown hair, who had earlier introduced herself as Randvi, asked.

“Take out the bandits, make them realise how foolish they are being. We have not yet lost enough to be at risk when winter comes, regarding food stores, but gifts will help too.”

“Are you a sort of leader in your town?” She asked, pacing around the table a little.

“No, just the one with a bit of common sense.” You shrugged, “I don’t like the leadership role - I’ve never liked the attention - but it’s frustrating to see people fail because they’re…” You furrowed your brows, trying to contain your anger and direct it into a sentence, “so stupid, you know? So I guess that I’m only doing this because I think everyone else is going about it wrong.”

“Now that,” Eivor laughed, “I can understand. You may call on my people whenever you are in need of defending, we will come and we will help repair any damages from conflict.” You bowed your head in thanks, glancing up to him one more time.

You had thought it when you first laid eyes on him after asking for an audience with the Raven Clan’s jarl. He had long blond hair that was held away from his face with various braids that had little metal cuffs around some of them. His eyes were a brilliant blue and he had an angular face with a jaw covered in a well-kept beard. A scar ran from his cheekbone down to the corner of his mouth and he had a raven tattooed across his right temple, dipping back towards the shaven part of his head. Your eyes followed that tattoo to the large scar at his neck. You wondered what story it had to tell, you were sure that he was full of stories that would mesmerise a girl from a small farming town like yourself.

“Thank you, Eivor. I hope that my people will take kindly to your generosity.” And with that, you excused yourself from Ravensthorpe’s longhouse, getting back on your horse to head home.

When you returned, your mother had demanded where you had been, which led to your father yelling at you for what you had done, which led to you being put before the master of the town who did very little other than sit on his arse all day and ask how the harvests were coming along. You were already in his bad books after refusing a marriage that he had wanted arranged between you and his second son. It had taken a lot to deter him and so you weren’t particularly thrilled to be in his home once more.

However, you stood your ground. You preferred to be right than to be liked and you knew that, with a little patience, everyone would come to see the sense behind your decision.

“You trade away five percent of all our harvest to these…. Invaders?!” He exclaimed.

“I’ve watched the harvests over the years, it has been long since famine has struck and even with paying the five percent, it means we are far less likely to lose any stocks if we are defended and we also have to opportunity to trade with the Raven Clan who are much more connected across the lands than we are.”

“You deem yourself more fit to make these decisions for the town than I, woman?” He spat the last word and you knew that it had been in an attempt to degrade you.

“Perhaps we need a woman making these decisions, that way she will be thinking with a brain and not a cock. I’ve watched you sit back and do nothing-!” You shrugged off the grip of your mother’s hand on your upper arm who was trying to stop you from offending the master, “When we have been attacked! Our cattle have been stolen, slaughtered, our silos have been burned to the ground and we have had bandits stealing our crops in the night for weeks. What have you done about it?” You gestured around, “Sat on your arse and demanded that we fix our own messes. Well, I hate to break it to you, master,” The word dribbled from your mouth like venom, “but your position defines these problems as your own before they belong to anyone else.” You clenched your fists, “We will see who is the more capable leader when the bandits strike again.” And, not waiting for a dismissal, you stormed out of the hall.

***

As they usually did, the bandits had struck in the cover of night just two days after your meeting with Eivor and your clash with the master. Wasting no time, you got on a horse and rode off towards Ravensthorpe, hoping everything could be sorted in time. You had been stopped by patrolling guards at the town’s border and hurriedly explained the situation to them. In no time, warriors and shield maidens were shaken awake to come to your aid and you led them all back to your humble little town, gasping at the sight.

Two thatched roofs of homes were on fire and a few bodies were laid around. This was terrible; it wasn’t a raid but a full-blown attack. As soon as you dismounted your horse, a set of hands landed on your shoulder and opposite upper arm, you jumped at the contact and turned to find Eivor.

“Get to safety, find your family if you can.” There was concern in your eyes and you nodded your head before running as fast as your legs could take you to your home, finding your mother, father and infant brother inside.

“Barricade the door!” You exclaimed, pushing the dining room table onto its side. Your father joined you to push it against the front door and your mother was desperately trying to shush your brother. Nothing could be done about barricading the windows for now so, instead, you drew the curtains while your father blew out all the candles.

You waited in the dark, longing to peer out of the window to see what was going on but knowing that it would only put you in danger. You trusted your decision in establishing this alliance and you knew that your people had a much better chance of surviving this way.

But something wasn’t right. There was something wrong. The bandits had never been so bold before, why would they strike like this so shortly after an alliance had been established? At the rate the crop fields were burning, the town’s people would have to buy whatever they could afford from the nearest town that the master had-

“It’s all planned!” You exclaimed, leaping to your feet and peering out of a window to look towards the master’s house.

“What do you mean?” Your father spoke in a quieter tone, trying to urge you to be quieter.

“The master’s eldest son, he’s married to a Lady from Oxenefordscire.” You breathed out, “A few winters ago, after the last famine, we were bled dry buying food from them just to live. The master got all the best cuts and was rewarded in gold for the… boost that we provided to their economy. The selfish bastard! This is all about money to him! I’d be willing to bet he’s working with the bandits!” You pulled the table from the door enough to slide out of it, grabbing a nearby pail. “We have to save the crops now or else he’ll succeed and we’ll be put into that same position.”

You and your father had had disagreements about your ways in the past, but looking around at the flames and hearing the sounds of battle, noting how the norse fighters were saving your town, he nodded his head and your mother was barricaded back into the house as the two of you ran off towards the fields, calling for help along the way. You looked to the fields and dropped the pail for a scythe, getting as close to the scorching flames as you could and beginning to crop them in fluid motions that you had spent your life learning, stopping the fire from spreading any more.

“You fools! Fight back!” You heard the master’s voice and you glanced over to where the bandits were now retreating. You were right. He was paying them to push your people to the brink of starvation so that the nearest county would reward him for it in gold. You continued cropping, two men and a woman having joined you by now while others had come to douse the flames. You didn;t have much time to take in your surroundings in the rush, but you were later informed of how Eivor’s people had fought bravely and helped to put out the fires started in homes. Your family came out unscathed too, minus you and your father being drenched in sweat from the heat of the fires you had tried to protect your produce from.

Most of the town were up all night and beyond the sunrise to repair the damages while the master holed himself up in his home, people now standing guard at each exit so that he couldn’t escape without facing the consequences of what he had done.

You managed to catch up with Eivor as he was hefting a scorched wooden beam over his shoulder. You paused to take in the sight: he looked so powerful, effortlessly lifting such a heavy thing and leading the people around him to clear up the damage so that repairs could be made.

“Eivor!” You called after him once he had set the damaged beam aside, he turned around to meet you, hair falling past his shoulder as he did and he gave you a sympathetic smile.

“I am sorry for your losses.” He spoke up in that accent of his that only seemed to make you swoon now.

“There would have been many more if not for your help.” You glanced around to see your own town’s people and the Raven Clan working together. “And I’m glad to see that it has dispelled any harsh feelings that my people harboured against yours. I hope that we can build upon a strong foundation after this night.”

“As do I.” He rested his hand on your shoulder to convey his sincerity and you took that hand in your own, wrapping both of yours around it.

“If it isn’t too much to ask, I would like for you, or one of your people if you haven’t the time, to teach me how to fight. I felt… defenceless in my home, which is why I went out to save the crops, why I went to Ravensthorpe to establish this alliance in the first place, I hate sitting back and doing nothing.” He nodded his head, a sincere smile playing at his lips.

“You were brave to do what you did, I saw you. You were also clever enough to see that your town’s master,” The word was spoken with utmost disdain as he looked towards said man’s home, “was making your people suffer for his own gain. Once you have taken account of all losses and damages, I will see what I can do about teaching you how to fight. Is that alright?”

“That’s perfect, Eivor, thank you.” You gave his hand a slight squeeze before excusing yourself to go help take down the blackened crops in the field.

***

Your town had handled the situation as follows: count the dead, bury them, calculate the losses of produce, preserve what you could, hold trial against the master, hang him.

There was talk of an election to take place soon and your father was considering running, so long as he could have you to advise him. You had since moved out and had now settled in a cosy little home on the outskirts of Ravensthorpe. Eivor had been teaching you how to fight with an axe and shield and you were taking to it naturally. You enjoyed the mix of English and Norse culture that could be found in the hamlet and had even taken to Valka’s guidance on what offerings to leave to which gods. You donned more Norse-looking attire in the winter when it grew cold as it was more practical for such temperatures and reverted back to your English tunics when the heat rose again in summertime.

Oh, and you had been right about Eivor being full of stories that would mesmerise you. He laid in your bed now, on his back with your head resting on his chest, tracing over the lines of his tattoos as he stroked your hair with one hand and gesticulated alongside his story with the other.

“I’d love to see Norway…” You mumbled against his skin, “It sounds beautiful… I don’t know how I’d fare against the cold, though.” The two of you laughed a little at this.

“Perhaps similarly to how I handle the summers here.” You laugh even harder.

“Being pushed to the brink of death by the weather then?” He jostled you a little, making you lean up on one of your forearms to smile at him, adoring seeing him so happy in moments like these. It’s true though, he had told you all about how horrid he found those few weeks of English summertime: it was different to other lands he had been to, he explained, it was so humid that it felt hotter than it really was and he had fallen victim to heatstroke a few times.

“You Norse folk come over here, do the devil’s work and steal the lord’s gold,” He rolled your eyes at your theatrical tone, knowing the two of you both found this narrative utterly ridiculous, “and we have nothing to defend ourselves with against you except for the few sodding weeks of summer we get on an annual calendar that’s otherwise utterly miserable. The moment summer’s over, what do we get? Rain, wind, wind, rain, a sprinkle of snow and some more rain.” He pulled you back down onto him and kissed the top of your head.

“I think you’d do fine enough in Norway as long as you’re wrapped up warm enough…” His tone dipped to become deeper as his lips trailed down from your temple to the side of your neck, turning you over slowly with his hands pressing your hips down into the furs beneath you, “And if all those layers don’t work…” A nip at your collarbone which made you gasp. “I can think of some other ways to warm you…” You held back a moan as his lips trailed down to your breasts, hands roaming up and down your sides.

“And what would that entail?” You shuddered in anticipation.

“Allow me to show you…”

[agoracactus]

AC Valhalla x Reader - Real Life AU Headcanon

happy new year yall! hope whoever’s reading this is having a good day / weekends!

if theres anyone u wanna see let me know!

Warnings: lack of proofread

update: idk why it took me so long to add Vili on the list i mean, c’mon

Eivor

She's a big woman. Tall, fit, tough looking with broad shoulders, intimidating. However she's the softest between the both of you.

You love watching rom-com with her, because it makes her cry all the time. She always tries to hide it at first, then would give up and turn into a sobbing mess. She’s definitely the more emotional one.

People assume that she's a bouncer or a bodyguard or perhaps a member / leader of a mob. But really she's a business consultant, and a damn good one. Though sometimes you do wonder if her clients are terrified of her, or if she bullies her clients into doing better business.

Was a wild child, running in the woods climbing trees and catching fish with her bare hands all the time. Claimed that she fought a pack of wolves when she was little, which got her the scars. Later confirmed by her stepbrother Sigurd, that the "wolves" were in fact, 3 stray dogs. She's still proud of her glorious fight and keeps telling people that she has fought wolves.

A huge fan of MMA. She thought about getting into it when she was younger, and still thinks she could if she quit the consultant job.

Goes to the gym every morning, and would bring back coffee for you after training. If she doesn't feel like going to the gym, she'd work out at home and make breakfast.

She loves cakes. It was something she kept as a secret, when you first got together. After you found out you bake her a cake every year for her birthday.

Mostly work from home, and could work anywhere in the house. Meaning she works from the bed to the living room to the backyard. She does have a home office, but she rarely uses it, for “it confines her”. After you moved in, it became your workspace. Then she'd (not so) subtly annoy you out of the office and go sit with her.

When she’s in the work mode nothing could break that focus of hers. Sometimes you’d have to grab the laptop from her so she knows it’s time to eat. But it also means that you could stare at her intensely when she works. Which you love.

She usually wears comfortable sporty clothes. When she needs to go out for work she wears more fashionable business suits, which in your opinion, is super sexy.

You met at a business cocktail party, you spotted her in the crowd when you were bored to death and wanted out. She was with some big CEOs, casually talking and laughing, with a glass of wine in hand. She was in a black short sleeve dress with pointy shoulders, a deep neck and a slit that ran up almost to her bum--- later she told you it’s to attract men’s attention, so she has more advantage. She had her wavy blonde hair on one side, dark eye shadow, and burgundy red lips. It was obviously love at first sight. Later that night she came and talked to your boss, and exchanged business cards with you, that’s how your relationship started. She told you later in your relationship that she noticed you first, and that she thought you were adorable looking anxious and bored in the corner.

She usually wears her hair in a side braid, sometimes you’d want to braid her hair and she’d let you.

She spoils you. You felt like a child around her all the time, but you don’t mind. She surely doesn’t.

She loves drinking, but she’s not very good at it. Meaning she gets drunk and brings chaos everywhere and forgets about everything the next day. You worried about her safety when she’s drunk, for no one could stop her from doing anything she wants. Once you got mad and stormed off, didn’t come home all night. After that she never let herself get uncontrollable, even when Sigurd comes to visit.

She was adopted, and even though her stepfather and stepbrother love her very much, she struggles with the sense of belonging. It was when she’s with you that she felt she was finally home.

You asked her step family for pictures of her parents (her stepfather was her parents’ best friend). And you framed the one with her blowing off the candles on a cake, and her parents smiling beside her. She got emotional when you gifted it to her.

The picture is now hung on the wall where people could see it when they first enter the house. Next to the photo of you two laughing together, taken from the first holiday you spent together oversea.

Although she’s very capable in her career and social life, she’s a complete freshman in life. Her place was a mess before you moved in. After you moved in together, you taught her how to do laundry and dishes, now she’s able to help out with the chores.

Basim Ibn Ishaq

Definitely a yandere. But he doesn’t show it. He's the type of guy who your friends and families would approve first time meeting him, but after some time they'd start worrying about your safety. He'd never hurt you though, not without your consent.

Gives out this serial killer, sociopath vibe. Very charming, but has a pair of cold eyes, like he knows everything and he cares about nothing. Those eyes only warm up when you are around. But you’re not aware of it.

A professor of history of art and architecture, and has two PhDs, one in history and one in architecture. The smartest man you know.

People either wanna sleep with him or is scared of him. Receives love notes in his office mailbox all the time, sometimes he gets the dark and dangerous notes, but he doesn’t care. You suspected that he knows who these notes were from, and is secretly enjoying the attention.

Had one marriage, and another relationship--- that got him divorced and dumped. Has 5 kids. He only visits them from time to time. His exes didn’t like him around the kids so much. Which hurts you, for you know how much he cares about his children.

His exes actually like you and feel more comfortable with you around their kids than just him alone. It really feels like you got two older sisters and Basim is the boyfriend they judge all the time.

You are younger than him, and you feel insecure all the time. For he is popular among his students and co workers, and has a history of cheating. However he thinks you being jealous is cute, and is scared of letting you know what really is going on in his mind. It would take him a long time before telling you how much he cares about you and how scared he is to lose you.

Dark academia is his dress code. And he looks so sexy in a turtle neck that you think it exists just for him.

He always makes sure he is well kept even at home. What you don't know is, when you are not there, either going home visiting your family or going on a vacation with friends, he becomes a caveman. You’d walk in on him one day--- if you decided to surprise him and got home earlier than planned--- in his PJs, wrapped in your favorite blanket with a bowl of popcorns, watching the show you wouldn’t shut up about in the dark.

Very romantic. He remembers all the important days and would always plan ahead. Spoils you with presents, although you told him many times that you don’t care about material stuff.

The truth is, he is scared that you would leave him like his exes, and he knows he can’t bare to lose you. Giving presents is the only way he knows how to keep people around. You would need to have a lot of conversations with him to help him get over his fear.

Didn’t need glasses, but as he’s getting older he started to notice his sight getting more blurry. It took you months before he let you drag him to the optometrist and get him a pair of gold rim glasses.

Great with the chores, even gave you some tips on how to clean better.

Of course he tells dad jokes, but only when he's around people he trusts. Meaning you, and his kids. Sometimes you wonder why the smartest man in the world tells the lamest joke.

He stuck pictures of his children on the wall of his office at school (cuz there r so many and he doesn't have enough space on his desk), and has the pictures at the ready on his phone so he can show them to anyone. However he has your picture on his desk right in front of him, and as his phone home screen.

Vili Hemmingson

He is a relatively renowned interior designer, has quite a few clients who are celebrities.

Part of his reputation comes from being the son of the founder of a huge real estate firm, but he secretly doesn’t like people bringing that up. 

He started his interior design career when he was “young” and wanted to get away from his father’s shadow. But he loves and respects his father very much.

Looks like a playboy, especially with his sleeves rolling up to his elbow, showing the fully tattooed muscular arms, casually sticking his hands in the pockets of his white washed jeans, with the front of his shirt slightly unbuttoned, smug face with a smirk and a pair of expensive looking sunglasses. Who wears sunglasses indoors at a pub?

He came up to you, hoping he could get your number while making small talk. The conversation was so awkward that you thought he was messing with you. Your friend slipped him your number when you made an escape to the bathroom.

He's an ass when he's with people he likes, always teasing and bullying you, to the point that you sometime would secretly questioning if he really likes you, eventhough you enjoy having these flirtatious banters with him.

After some time into your relationship, he drunkly admitted that he teases you so you won't notice how nervous he is all the time when he's with you.

You two bicker a lot, and would pull small pranks on each other, like some stupid kids.

For a while you were jealous of his childhood best friend, Evior, because of your own insecurities. They are both successful and really good-looking, when they stand together they look like a power couple. It’s hard not to think about how your relationship seems so childish seeing them being at a casual business gathering, with people asking when they are going to get married.

But then his eyes would meet yours, the polite smile for business occasions would melt into a warm, heartfelt one. He’d leave whatever conversation he was having, come to you with a peck on your lips, and introduce you to his companions with his arm around your waist.

Not the most thoughtful guy, sometimes he forgets about anniversaries or even your birthday, sometimes he neglects you and buried himself in work, sometimes he walks too fast when you’re on your period and is in pain... but once he realized that you were upset, he would make it up to you at least ten times in return.

You get why Vili is the way he is when meeting with his father, Hemming. He is a very warm man, cares deeply for his son. Not in his best health for him working too hard starting his company years ago, now he entrusts the company to their family friend Trygve and is living his best retirement life.

Hemming would invite his son to a fishing trip, Vili would decline thinking it’s too boring, Hemming would then invite you, you (enjoy spending time with this lovely old man) would agree, Vili would then get jealous about you two spending time together without him and come joining the trip “unwillingly” (he’d put his bag that he packed behind your back into the back of the trunk and snatch the keys out of your hand while mumbling that he’d drive your there, and never leave once you’re there). Happens all the time without fail.

Plays guitar. You learned from his father that he was in a high school band back in his emo days. You teased him profusely for that.

He sang for you for your one year anniversary. He's a really good singer, but you decided not to tell him, otherwise you'd have to put up with his cockiness for the next few weeks.

Sigurd

A freelance photographer / reporter / column writer / blogger. Travels all around the world. In fact he couldn't stay in one place for too long, or it'd drive him crazy.

Had a short marriage with Randvi. Their parents are very good friends and set them up with each other. They broke up mostly because Sigurd travels too much and Randvi was insecure. Then the love quickly died out. They are however, in good terms.

Has dark skin due to how much time he spends outdoor, and his clothes always seem somehow dirty and patchy. You made him keep a set of clean clothes at home so he doesn't look like a homeless person when you are out having a date night.

Can talk himself out of anything. Knows how to deal with people and how to win over their hearts.

When you first met you thought he's a little prick who's full of themselves. After a few talks you realized he actually has a heart of gold, and all his brags are actually unintentional.

He would call you every day when he’s not there with you, asking how you’re doing.

You receive postcards from all over the world, sometimes it’s the picture Sigurd took himself. He’d write love notes behind them and they always warm your heart, making the time without him a little bit easier. You stick the postcards on the wall and it basically serves as your wallpaper.

You live close to Eivor, Sigurd’s step sister’s place. Sometimes you’d visit her and help with the house chores, making sure she’s not dying in a burning house or drowning in the aftermath of her laundry.

Sometimes when you miss him too much, you invite yourself to Eivor’s place. As long as you brought enough booze, she’d be happy to welcome you in anytime. She treats you like family and you’re glad that you have her approval, you two are like siblings now.

When Sigurd finally comes home, he’d bring you all sorts of trinkets from his travel. In fact, half of his luggage is filled with presents for you. You tried to persuade him not to buy you so many gifts, but also think it’s super sweet that he bought everything that reminds him of you on his travel.

Your place is filled with things he brought back, the interior design is all over the place. It was a bit annoying at first, then one day he told you--- half drunk--- that he wanted to travel with you but couldn’t, so he brought the world to you.

When you can finally work out your schedule and go on a short vacation with him, he was over the moon. He won’t let you do any prior research or decide where to travel to. He planned everything in detail, even pulled a few late nighters to ‘refine’ the plan. You did have a blast, but you did talk to him and ask him to plan the trip together with you next time.

You have a scrapbook dedicated to his work, collecting all his articles and photographs, sometimes you write down some of your thoughts at the side. You keep it a secret though, you know that this would feed his ego and it would probably pain the others.

He is secretly planning to find a job that allows him to stay with you, finally ready to settle down. As you are planning to quit your job and travel with him. Eventually you two would find out about each other’s plan, and work things out in the best way possible.

Randvi

Currently studying for her PhD in Politics. Wants to be an ambassador.

Is friendly with her ex-husband, Sigurd. He and his family often invite you over for the holidays. You made quite a few friends due to that.

A terrible cook. She tried, she really did. But eventually you both agree that it’s better that she leave the cooking to you.

Giving out a big sister / mom vibe. Always takes care of other people around her. Often asking if you’re eating properly, if you’re wearing enough etc. Others assume that you are younger than her when in fact it’s the other way around.

Sometimes you’d have to remind her to take a break from all her studying, and take her out on a car ride. She would resist at first, but once she got outside you would have to physically drag her home.

When she’s with you is when she could really relax and be herself. She’d show the younger, naive side of herself. You enjoy being the special one. Although you do realize that she is also relaxed when she’s drunk at the family events at Sigurd’s place, when she’s with Eivor, and it makes you a little jealous. What you don’t know is, she’d never let herself get drunk when you’re not around.

Always trying to act tough, and she is one strong and independent woman. You do wish she can lean on you a bit more, and is worried about if she’s hiding her stress and worries from you. After some time into your relationship you noticed she started to loosen up around you, and would share more about her thoughts, which made you very happy. You are confident that you’d be able to tear down that steel wall of hers in the near future. 

Has a terrible sense of direction, and is actually terrible with maps. You think it’s adorable when she tries to work out where she’s at using a GPS. She always blames it on the GPS. You think if you leave her in the parking lot of the grocery shop you go to all the time, she’d never be able to leave.

You both really like animals, but she’s allergic to fur. You wonder if you could find a brand of dog or cat she won’t be allergic to, but is also scared to try. On the other hand, she is secretly getting her allergy tested, so she could get you a pet for your birthday.

Do not have a clue about how to dress fashionably. Lives in blue or grey jumper all seasons. When you two just started dating, she got insecure and desperately tried to learn how to do make-up --- only to fail miserably. You introduced her to some simple makeup and assured her that she’s perfect the way she is. You slowly build her confidence back up after some time. 

Needs thick glasses or she’s blind, for she often studies in dim light. She wears contact lenses because she hates how the thick glasses make her eyes look smaller. She only wears them when she’s at home, and when she’s absolutely sure no one would see her in those that day.

You love giving her different pet names. She always has a reaction--- blushing, stuttering, avoiding eye contact etc.--- towards your creative name of choice. And you made it your goal to think of a new one every month, just to see her being surprised and flustered.

You enjoy spending your time together in silence. With her at her desk writing her essays, and you by the window reading a book. Sometimes she’d read a sentence out loud and ask about your opinion, sometimes you read the line in your book to share it with her.

[bloodthirstychaos]

Past

f!Eivor X f!Reader

In which the reader reveals her past to her lover.

CW: Mention of Death, Depression

The breeze that flowed up the mountain was soothing, making the leaves dance across the grass. There was a stream of water, flowing down and making a small waterfall. I find these kind of places to be the most soothing, allowing me to meditate and indulge in my mind without any interruptions. It allows me to escape the past that haunts me. A past ridden with death and despair, yet also littered with good memories as well. Memories of me and a blonde haired and blue eyed girl playing with our wooden swords. Both determined to become a mighty warrior. The best of friends, who later on in life became lovers. Both having pasts that they carried around like a shadow on a sunny day, but maybe it was that past that brought them closer together.

"There you are, my love." A voice said behind me making my heart dance in my chest. A common occurrence when I hear it. I looked back and made eye contact with those same icy blue eyes that riddled my childhood. Ones that captivated my heart.

"Eivor, only you would know where to find me." I hummed giving her a small smile. The love I had for this woman, and she had for me. I'm truly thankful the Gods gave me this woman.

"Only I know you best." She smirked with love in her eyes. She walked over and sat beside me, both of us taking in the view.

"What it is that haunts you?" She asked me, causing me to look at her..

"Who says anything does?"

"You must forget that I can read you like an open book. What plagues your mind, my love?" She asked, grabbing my hand. This side of Eivor is something I cherish. A side that only I get to see.

"I am a warrior, I am supposed to be strong," I sigh, hanging my head a bit, "and I mostly am, but there are days where I am fighting a battle that I cannot win."

"We all have those times. Even the strongest of warriors do." She said squeezing my hand. "Speak with me, allow me to help."

I never spoke of that night. I never talked about how my whole family got burned alive in front of me. Eivor had faced the same trauma of losing her parents, yet she seemed to deal with it better than I. Their screams echo in my head, ones that I couldn't prevent. I couldn't help them because one of Kjotve's men prevented me. If I had been a little bit stronger, fought more, then I could've helped them, but I was weak.

"The night Kjotve came. Sometimes, the memories haunt me. It's as though I relive the night over sometimes." I said, taking my hand from hers and running it over my scar. A scar that serves as a reminder. It ran from my hand all the way up my arm.

"You never talk about that night, even to me. I know that it bothers you greatly, so maybe it's time you speak of it." She replied, eyeing the scar I possess.

I began, releasing a sigh, "One of his men forced me to watch my family burn to death. They were wailing in pain, and I couldn't do anything but watch. I feel like it's my fault because I couldn't help them."

“It is far from your fault. Do not put the blame on yourself.” She said then paused. "What about this?" She asked, delicately touching my arm. It was almost as if she was afraid that I would shatter at the touch.

"Afterwards, the same man tried to push me into the fire, but I ended up catching myself before I could fully fall into the flames. My arm was the only thing that got burned. I got up and ran as fast as I could, running until I couldn't anymore."

"I am sorry, Y/N." She said eyeing me. "I did all that I could to find you until Sigurd whisked me away."

"There is nothing to be sorry for, love. I am not the only one who suffered that night. It is just that sometimes, they get to be too much. The dreams of it, seeing it every time I close my eyes." I say standing up, making her stand with me. I look at her thinking about the many nights my sleep was broken from the nightmares. The many nights that Eivor had gotten up to retrieve me, only to stay awake with me. I sigh, looking up into the sky. The once blue horizon had turned into a shade of orange and pink. The sun was setting, the earth swallowing it up making it smaller and smaller.

"We all suffered that night, but that doesn't mean your pain is lesser. You have been there for me many times, so let me return the favor." She said, wrapping her arms around me, giving me a blanket of comfort.

"I'd be lost without you, Eivor." I sigh, content with the comfort she’s giving me.

"I'd be lost without you too." She says holding me as we watch the sun finish sinking below the horizon.

[abbysfrenchbraid]

hi! i love all of your writing, especially your abby fanfics. i know you’re in the middle of your eivor series right now, so pls disregard if you don’t feel like writing this request or don’t want to write for abby, but i was wondering if you could maybe write a hurt/comfort type imagine where abby either comforts the reader when they’re sad or after they have a nightmare. i get really frequent nightmares and love to read fanfics like this but totally understand if you’re not into the idea. all the love and i hope you’re doing well; merry christmas if you celebrate!

so this is half a year late, but I finally have a little more time to go through my requests so here it is! this is also the first time I've actively avoided gendering the reader as I've gotten a few requests for a nonbinary or genderfluid reader. This is not a cop-out on that, I definitely want to write an explicitly nb reader but I figured this would make the reading experience better for quite a few people!

Summary: The reader has recently lost a family member and stranded with the WLF. They struggle with frequent panic attacks and nightmares. Abby notices and tries to take care of them.

CW for loss of a family member (sibling), death and grief, heavy trauma, panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares, and struggling to breathe. The nightmares are also fairly violent and creepy so please watch out for yourselves and only read this if you're in a good state of mind <3

I've Got You

The truck rattled as Leah drove it up the road to the WLF stadium. It had been a particularly rough day on patrol. You and the other wolf had run into a group of freshly infected that seemed to have been three families once. The children had been the worst. The youngest had probably been about ten years old before she had turned, her eyes bright blue and her blonde curls matted with dried blood. You had taken care of them all, of course you had. But it had been horrible. You folded your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking.

You had joined the WLF a few months ago after losing your team and your little sister in a clicker-infested cellar you had set up camp in. It had been so fucking stupid, so careless. But everyone had been tired, you hadn’t seen any infected in days, and so only one of you had kept watch. He barely had time to scream before the clicker had ripped out his throat. It had been chaos, madness, everyone scrambling to escape into the network of damp corridors and storage rooms, more and more clickers being drawn to you by the noise.

Leah raised her hand at the armed guards at the gate and they opened for your truck. The sun was setting behind you and most people were inside the stadium now, eating or spending time with friends. Both of you were quiet. Leah’s legs were covered in slowly darkening blood and the smell was nauseating. The tall wolf pulled the truck into its designated spot and took a deep breath.

“Y/N?” You looked up at her. The circles under her eyes could compete with yours, but her face was still as kind as ever.

“Yeah?”

“You take care of yourself today. Take a long shower, get something to eat. I’ll let Martha know to give you a double portion for dinner.”

You smiled faintly at her. This was how it was here. All the wolves had seen terrible things and probably done even worse. They all chose to let it out in training and then leave it behind them. No sense in holding on. You nodded.

“Thanks, Lee. See you in the gym tomorrow.”

The brunette grinned and patted your thigh.

“6 am sharp!” She jumped out of the car and gave back the keys at the checkpoint, then she vanished inside the stadium.

You stayed in your seat. Your fingers had cramped up and you were scared to unfold them, scared you would never be able to stop them from shaking again.

Sierra had held your hand all the way, not letting go as you dragged her through the darkness, fought off four infected, stumbled up stairs you had not come down on, and found yourself in a ravaged theater. You had run all night and only stopped when you were unable to go a single step further. When you had found a small pawnshop that you could lock up safely, you had made a bed of your jacket and a moth-eaten blanket from the theater. Sierra had started to cry. You would never forget the way dread had started to creep into your limbs, seeping into your skin and stretching dark tendrils toward your throat. You had rolled up Sierra’s sleeve and there it was. A relatively small mark, just the puncture wounds from two teeth turned into mean scratches as Sierra had pulled her arm from the jaws of a clicker and kept on running. But it had already begun to fester, the edges of the wound an angry red contrasting the white blisters forming around the site. It felt like the ground had been pulled from below your feet. You fell and fell, unable to speak, to do anything, just staring at the thing that meant the end of the world. The end of your baby sister.

A shout caught your attention - another car had returned to the stadium and was pulling into a spot a few paces away. It was Manny and Abby, everyone’s favorite duo. The attractive joker and the stoic warrior. They were among Leah’s best friends and she had introduced them to you a while ago, all of them welcoming you warmly. It had been strange, being part of a group again, a team. Your heart was still too sore.

So you had quietly pulled yourself out of most of the group evenings, the film nights and game nights and arm wrestling tournaments and what else there was to do. Manny had tried his luck flirting with you a few times and one time you had even joined him for a dance, but after realizing he wouldn’t land with you he had respectfully backed off and now treated you more like a little sister. Mel and Owen had been nice, too, both very secluded when they turned up together, but Owen was funny and enthusiastic and always yelled your name across the cafeteria or the training course when he saw you. He was one of the few people who could make you laugh no matter how hard you tried not to.

Nora was a whirlwind, the smartest person you had ever known and unfaltering no matter what the universe threw at her feet. She liked poetry and hard rock music, big men and even bigger women. You had often wondered whether she and Abby had ever hooked up. But you weren’t sure of anything concerning Abby. Always the stony face, the impenetrable wall, the arms-length smile and polite nod in the hallway. It could be infuriating at times. Especially because despite it all, against all your better judgment, you could feel yourself growing more and more interested in her, constantly looking for her in a crowd and sneaking side glances to see if she was listening to you or laughing at the same things.

The car doors banged and the sound echoed through the small space. Manny was laughing about something Abby had said and walked with a bounce in his step as he approached the counter to hand back his keys. Abby looked like she always did, khaki cargo pants and a black cutoff, her green backpack slung over one muscular shoulder. Some strands of hair had escaped her braid and curled up at the back of her neck, slightly damp from her sweat in the hot summer air. Trying to calm down and distract yourself, you let your gaze wander up her strong build, freckled biceps flexing as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. And then she looked straight at you. You didn’t move, stayed frozen as you had for the last few minutes, wishing you were invisible.

Your face felt hot and suddenly there were tears blurring your vision - what was happening?! Your knees started shaking as well, bouncing uncontrollably as your nails dug into the backs of your hands. Your throat was closing up and your bottom lip was quivering. All you saw were specks of grey and green, all you felt was your body resisting every command and rebelling against you, trying to hold you in place and suffocate you silently.

Suddenly the door opened beside you and a soft, deep voice said your name. You tried to blink the tears away but your vision wouldn’t clear up, panic blinding you further. You began shaking your head as your chest convulsed in a desperate attempt to draw breath.

“Fuck, Y/N, okay.” Abby’s voice was determined and suddenly her hands were on your wrists. Her skin was warm and dry, her grip firm. She softly shook your clasped hands and somehow moved so her face was in front of yours, a mess of green and brown and there, soft pink where her lips moved, speaking quietly and telling you to breathe with her. One hand stayed on your wrist and her thumb massaged the cramped up muscle there, digging painfully into your flesh but pulling you back to her slowly. One hand came up closer and a calloused thumb brushed the tears from your cheek before her hand landed on your shoulder, fingers pressing into your upper back.

“Hey, look at me, look at me, Y/N, you’re okay, I’m here. Can you try to breathe in with me on three? Just stop fighting for a moment, count with me and then we’ll breathe in together. Okay? One.”

You tried to sit up straighter and stop the erratic twitching of your chest, still choking on your breath as you waited for her commando.

“Two. Three.”

Her hand pressed between your shoulders from behind and suddenly you could breathe again, a loud gasp that turned into quiet sobs as you fought to release the air from your lungs before breathing in again.

“There we go, you’re doing so good,” Abby’s hand was on your cheek again, “so good, Y/N, breathe with me, that’s right.”

Your vision slowly returned to you now, though it was still distorted by  tears. Abby had half-climbed into the truck, one foot between yours and one dangling out of the open door, her weight held up only by her right leg as she pressed her back against the dashboard. A wet laugh escaped you. Abby shot you a confused look, paired with the hint of a relieved smile.

“What?”

“You’re gonna get a cramp as well,” you rasped, “if you keep that up.”

You slid further to the inside of the broad seat, making room for Abby next to you. She grinned and sat down, one hand still on your wrist. Her eyes went down to your trembling hands, your knuckles still white from your iron grip.

“Okay, let’s take care of your hands, hm?”

Her fingers wandered softly over yours, then she rested one hand over your tangled fingers and pushed her other thumb between your palms, gently loosening your hold. She pulled back each finger slowly, starting with your thumbs and stroking each one as they relaxed. Finally, your shaking hands lay freely on your thighs.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N, don’t worry.” She took one of your hands in her lap and started massaging the inside of your palm. “Wanna tell me what got you there?”

You sighed, breath still shaky with tears.

“Um.. We ran into infected today. Runners. Families, it seemed.”

Abby sucked in a breath and gave you back your hand before taking the other and starting the same gentle procedure.

“Those are the hardest. Kids?”

You nodded and Abby made a soft noise. You took another rattling breath.

“I… I lost my little sister. Back when… before I came to you.”

Her head shot up and she stared at you, shock and sympathy playing over her features.

“Fuck, Y/N, you never said…”

“I know.” You lowered your head.

When you had stumbled out of the woods around the WLF stadium and begged them to let you in, they had stripped you and searched you before bringing you to their leader. After hours of questioning to make sure you weren’t a spy for any other group, he knew about your team and everything you had done in the last three years, but you hadn’t mentioned Sierra once. It wouldn’t change anything anyway. They had brought you to Nora who had patched you up, examined you, and fed you before showing you to your new room. It was a small closet on the base level of the stadium, with only a tiny window letting in some light. You were thankful for a roof over your head and the armed posts surrounding the stadium.

“I didn’t want to talk about her. I didn’t lie to Isaac or betray you. It wasn't anyone's business.” You gave Abby a fierce look. Nothing would change your mind about this. She just nodded, her eyes wide. You sighed, brushing your hands against each other.

“She was bitten. I see her every time I close my eyes. It wasn’t fair.” You dropped your hands into your lap. “I just don’t… I can’t -”

Abby’s hand was on yours again, her fingers sliding between yours.

“Hey. I won’t tell anyone. But I’m here, okay? If you want to talk.”

You scoffed.

“No one ever talks here. You’re all made of stone.”

Abby contemplated this for a few seconds, then she squeezed your hand.

“My dad was murdered a few years ago. Almost all of our families are dead.” Now it was your turn to be shocked. Fuck. You had been so insensitive. “By us, I mean Owen, Nora, Jordan, and me. Owen lost his parents to infected and his brothers to the scars just last year.”

Abby leaned back and stared out of the windshield, the garage now dark except for a few small lamps at the exits.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Of course, I’m in no place to tell you how to deal with it.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re right, you know. We don’t talk about those things.” She looked at you, her gaze so intense you almost pulled back. “Would you like to?”

You forced yourself to hold her gaze.

“I think I would. Now that it’s all… further away.”

Abby nodded, squeezing your hand again.

“Then we’ll talk. You can tell me all about your sister. And… I haven’t talked about my dad in a long time. I think I’d like to tell you about him, too. He was great.”

A small smile played around her lips and you felt a rush of gratitude for this wonderful woman. You could practically see the memories playing through her head behind those green eyes. She blinked, looking back at you.

“Wanna get something to eat? You must be starving. I know I am.”

“Sure.” You shared another smile and exited the car together, fingers still intertwined as you crossed the lot and Abby held the door open for you.

Dinner was already over, but Leah had kept her word and the elder woman at the counter gave you both gigantic bowls of beef stew with thick, coarse bread. You told Abby about your patrol that day and she hummed sympathetically. She knew what it felt like to deal with infected children. After a while, the door to the cafeteria flew open and Manny came in, sleek black hair still wet from a shower. He grinned brightly as he made his way over to you and sat next to you on the metal bench.

“You coming along tonight?” he asked you, drumming his fingers on the table. You raised your eyebrows.

“What’s happening tonight?”

He tutted at Abby and gave her a theatrical frown.

“You didn’t invite Y/N? It’s Mel’s birthday! Owen got his hands on some prime hooch. You celebrating with us?”

You smiled at your plate. The last thing you needed was to get wasted and completely lose any shred of sanity you had left.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll join you. I still haven’t showered and I had a terrible day. I’m just gonna read a bit and pass out, I think.” You gave him an apologetic shrug.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. Read and pass out? It’s a special occasion! You sure?”

“Yeah, but really, thank you for inviting me. Maybe next time.”

He sighed heavily, then he clapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Abby, you need to get moving, girl. We’re meeting in 20 and you stink.”

Abby just raised her eyebrows and shook her head, finishing her stew. Manny's laughter echoed through the empty room as he left.

“Do I really smell that bad?” There was a twinkle in her eye, a conspiratorial smile on her lips. You smiled back.

“Not at all. He probably smelled me.” You grabbed her empty bowl and placed it in yours. “Go have fun, I’ll clean this up. See you at training.”

Abby cocked her head to the side, seemingly not sure what to do. You gave her another encouraging smile.

“Really, I’m fine. Thank you for taking care of me, I owe you. Go celebrate!”

The tall blonde stood up slowly. She still seemed hesitant.

“I’ll come check on you later if that’s okay. And you can always come over and talk to me if something’s wrong, alright?”

Your chest felt tight all of a sudden, but not in the way it had earlier. It was the feeling of reaching for something knowing you’d never have it, of wanting something so bad and only being able to admire it from a distance. It felt like being homesick. You thought of Sierra again and how she had been your home, the only anchor in your life. Fuck, not now.

You shook your head as if to get rid of your thoughts and gave Abby a brave smile.

“Okay. But I’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Okay. See you later, then.”

“See you.”

Abby gave you a last look over her shoulder before exiting the cafeteria and you made your way over to the kitchen. The cooks had already left and a lanky red-haired boy was the only one still there, washing dishes and listening to music on an mp3 player. The metallic sound in his headphones echoed through the peacefully quiet kitchen. He almost jumped two feet into the air when you approached from the side, bowls in your hand.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me! Jesus Christ.” He pressed a wet hand to his chest, the suds leaving a dark print on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how not to scare you, music and all. Sorry.” Both of you had to laugh and he held his dripping hands out for your dirty bowls.

“Don’t worry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone this late. You just come back from a mission?”

“Just a patrol run.”

You leaned against the counter and watched him clean the dishes.

“Anything exciting happen?” His eyes were bright and excited. He was even younger than he had looked at first, he couldn’t be older than 15. “My brother is on patrols too. Maybe you know him, his name is Danny.”

You crossed your arms and tried to remember the face that matched that name. Danny had been on patrol with Owen for a while when you had first arrived, but now he was stationed on some outpost and you hadn’t seen him for a long time.

“Yeah, I think I do. He’s not here at the moment, right?”

“He’s at the Serevena Hotel. I may be able to visit him there soon, depending on how my training goes.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Training to be a soldier?”

“Of course.” He stood up straight. “I want to do my part, protect our people. Fight the scars.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that. Even though you were thankful the WLF had taken you in and even though you had also participated in rigorous training from the first day on, soon being cleared for missions, you didn’t really have the same loyalty and faith for the organization. The seraphites were your enemies now, of course, but they were just people. You all were. Sometimes you wondered how it could have come to this - so few people left on this earth and here you were, slaughtering each other.

“I hope you can visit your brother soon.” You let your arms fall to the side and turned to leave. “Thanks for the dishes.”

“No problem,” he mumbled, putting his headphones back in.

You were in no rush to get to your room and so you took a few detours, passing the gym which was filled with quite a lot of people getting their training in after work. You looked into empty classrooms, trying to decipher what was written on the board. Would Sierra have studied here? Sat in the front, eager to learn the things you hadn’t been able to teach her? What if you had come here earlier, before it all happened? Could they have protected her better than you had? She would probably be walking next to you now, telling you about her day.

When you finally arrived at your room, you just quickly grabbed a towel, a clean shirt, and some shorts and headed for the showers. The hot water seemed to help somewhat. You wondered what Abby was up to right now. Probably getting drunk and having fun. Was she the type of person who danced? You had never seen her dance before. Maybe Nora would persuade her. There it was again, that heavy, pulling feeling. You turned the water off, got dressed, and went straight to bed. Enough heartache for one day.

-

You woke up confused, not knowing where you were at first. It was pitch black and there was some kind of noise outside. You reached around you and finally found the flashlight next to your pillow, turning it on and trying to wipe the sleep from your eyes. What was going on?

It had to be after midnight. The lights in the stadium were only on from 5.30 am to 10 pm in order to save power. You untangled yourself from your sheets and got on your feet, swaying a little. There it was again, that strange scratching noise accompanied by a quiet mumbling sound. It wasn’t directly at your door but seemed to come from further down the corridor. There were a few other people living down here in storerooms and sectioned hallways.

Yawning, you walked to the door and opened it ever so slightly, pressing the flashlight to your thigh in order to keep the light down at first. You couldn’t see anything, so you waved the flashlight around the corridor. Your stomach dropped.

At the far end of the hallway, a small figure stood in front of one of the doors, trying to open it to no avail. Small hands scratched at the wood, quiet brabbling reached your ears. This was wrong. Very wrong. The figure hadn’t noticed the light yet. It went on to the next door, trying the door handle and whining in frustration when it didn’t open.

Why didn’t the people inside wake up from the noise? You stood frozen as the figure tried the next door. It was a child, dressed in dotted pyjamas. Its blonde hair was shoulder length and tangled in knots. You slowly pushed your door open wider in order to step out into the corridor. Suddenly, the hinges squeaked and the sound echoed through the hallway.

The child slowly turned toward you. Blood was dripping from its mouth, its eyes were cold. It took a step toward you. You looked down and realized you were holding a gun. Oh. Right. Infected. You were supposed to shoot them.

As the kid made another strange brabbling sound, more blood ran down the front of the cotton pyjama shirt. You raised the flashlight with shaky fingers and aimed it right at the child's face.

Your blood froze in your veins. No. This couldn’t be. You had taken care of her, you had made sure she wouldn’t… wouldn’t turn into one of these… No, you had given her a peaceful ending.

“Sierra.” Your voice was raspy, quiet with terror. “Sierra, what are you doing here, baby?”

She growled. A horribly wrong sound, coming from someone so small and so lovely. Only she wasn’t lovely anymore. She was sick. Infected.

“Sierra!” You spoke louder now, your voice pleading. “Baby, please don’t do that. It’s me, see?” You raised the flashlight to light your own face for a moment. When you put it back on her, she had stopped walking. Her face was a mask of ice-cold fury. When she spoke, her voice rattled like nails in a metal box, rough like chalk on board.

“Y/N… Why?

You sank to your knees.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry Siri, I was so helpless. I didn’t know, I didn’t…”

“You… killed… me.”

She was getting dangerously close now and all of a sudden you could smell her, too. Foul, dead, vile. The smell of sickness and decay. You raised the gun, a war raging between your head and your heart.

“Sierra, stop. Stop.” Tears were streaming down your face. “Please stop, Siri. Don’t come any closer. Stop, stop! Please stop!”

Your little baby sister was so close that you could have reached out a hand and brushed through her hair. You stood up and took a step back.

“I’m gonna have to shoot you if you don’t step back. You’re infected, Siri. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you can’t, please Sierra. Don’t, please don’t…”

She hissed at you and lurched forward. A shot rang through the air and the girl fell to the floor right before you, her tiny body at your feet, blood slowly pooling around her head. You dropped the gun and it clattered on the concrete floor. You clapped your hands to your mouth and screamed into your palms, crying out again and again, trying to gasp for air. It felt like your heart was being torn in two.

Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder. You whirled around, but there was only darkness. You let yourself fall to the floor and kept weeping into your hands. Someone gripped your wrists and shook them slightly. You opened your eyes.

Abby was sitting on the side of your bed, her face right above yours and full of worry. You shook your head, frantically looking around your room for any kind of danger. The room was almost dark, light just seeping through the crack under the door. It was still early in the night.

“Y/N? Hey, hey. You’re okay.” Abby slowly let go of your wrists. “You had a nightmare. You’re okay now, I’m here.”

You were still too terrified to speak, so you just scooted further to the side and grabbed Abby’s hand, giving her a pleading look. She understood immediately, kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed next to you, holding out her arm for you to crawl into. You pressed yourself to her side and rested your head on her chest, feeling yourself tremble in her arms. She just held you for a while, letting you listen to her heartbeat until your own body began to calm down.

“Hi,” you whispered into the dim room. Abby stroked your hair while she held you tightly.

“Hey there,” she mumbled back. “Feeling better?”

“Not really.” You looked up at her. She smelled faintly of alcohol and something sweet. “How was your party?”

The corner of her mouth twitched.

“It was absolute chaos. I had to escape from there before it could consume me. And I also had someone to check on.” She squeezed your shoulder. You cringed at the thought of her finding you like this, writhing and talking in your sleep, crying out or even fighting her without knowing who was in front of you. You had always had horrible nightmares and Sierra had taken the brunt of them, waking you countless nights and trying to stay brave when you yelled at her or shoved her away in the first moments of consciousness, not yet fully back in the real world. Now that she was gone, they were a hundred times worse. You pressed your forehead to Abby’s shoulder.

“Did I scream?”

“Not really. I just knocked a few times and then I heard you talking, and you sounded so panicked that I thought I should make sure… I’m sorry I just came in like that.”

You shook your head.

“No, don’t. Thank you for waking me. It was… God, I hate this.”

Abby’s fingers combed through your hair, massaging your scalp. It was heavenly.

“Does this happen a lot?”

You snorted involuntarily.

“Every night. Several times. I never sleep through and I never sleep enough.” You wiped a hand over your face. “Sorry, I know I’m not the only one and it could be worse. It’s just… hard.”

“Excuse me?” Abby’s tone made you look up at her. “You’re telling me you have several panic attacks in your sleep every night but it’s fine because others have nightmares, too?”

You frowned. Panic attacks? You’d never thought of it that way.

“Y/N, you’re allowed to complain. To me especially. Remember, we wanted to talk about our problems? Be open about all this?”

She was right. You pressed yourself closer to her.

“I guess, yeah. Thank you for… for being here.”

“Wanna tell me about your nightmare?”

You held onto Abby’s shirt, clenching the fabric in your fist as if she might be ripped from you at any moment.

“I don’t know… I mean, why not. Well…” How were you even supposed to explain all this? How would you ever talk about your sister without freaking out again?

Abby pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you felt the tension in your stomach dissolve. You took a deep breath.

“I can never tell I’m dreaming. This time I thought I heard something in the corridor and I went to see what it was. A little girl was scratching on doors, trying to get in. She looked like the… like one of the infected we ran into today. But I made a noise and when she turned around she was... She was -” You gasped for air, trying to keep your calm. Abby hummed softly, stroking your back and giving you time to think.

“She had the face of my sister. Sierra.” You hadn’t said her name out loud in so long, only in the nightmares. Maybe it was time to rid her name of that terror, that fear, and grant it the love and warmth it deserved. “Sierra was my little sister. We ran with a group the last few years, stayed with them after our mom died. But she was bitten and I had to… I had to let her go.” You swallowed hard. Abby’s thumb drew circles on your back.

“So in the dream… the girl turned around and she was her . And I didn’t know what to do. I begged her to stop, to not come any closer because she was infected, she was bleeding, and -” You drew in another breath and buried your face in Abby’s chest. “She asked me why I’d done it, why I had… and she kept coming and then she attacked me and I - I had to, I had to shoot her.”

Hot tears were burning in your eyes and your throat was impossibly tight again. Abby gently placed a hand on your cheek and turned your face up toward her.

“I’m not gonna tell you it was just a dream because I know it's more complicated than that. I get them, too, sometimes. But what I can tell you is that I’m here, that you’re safe now, that your sister is in a better place and that one day you will be able to speak about her without feeling like you’re falling apart.”

“You think so?”

“I’m sure of it. And now you're with me. We can heal together. I’m here, I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

You raised your head from her chest and turned a little in order to get face to face with her.

“Abby?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this? Why now? I didn’t even think you liked me. You don’t have to take care of me.”

Abby’s features softened and she huffed out a silent laugh.

“I don’t know. I really… You were right when you said we keep everything to ourselves. But some of us do it more than others. And I guess I’m the worst when it comes to showing what I want.”

The sentence hung in the air for a moment. Abby took a deep breath.

“I like you, I really do. I just thought you needed more time. I know what it’s like to suffer and to feel like you can’t breathe. I wanted to give you space. But then I saw you in the car and I immediately knew what was happening. And I finally realized that I wouldn’t make things better by staying away.”

She held your gaze and you felt something shift between you. Her hand on your back came to a halt. You smiled softly.

“I always thought you didn’t find me interesting enough to talk to me. I was so jealous of the others for being this close to you and for making you laugh. I wanted that, too.”

“You’re the most interesting person that’s ever walked into this stadium,” Abby said softly. “God, I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to feel left out.”

You rested your head back on her shoulder.

“You made it up to me already. Really, you saved me today. Twice.”

Abby chuckled.

“Just wait until I have my next breakdown and then you can return the favor. Shouldn’t be long, they get to me every few days.”

You wrapped your arms around her torso.

“Well, then you’ll just have to stay close by.”

She hesitated, holding her breath for a second. You waited.

“Do you want me to stay? Tonight?”

You smiled to yourself.

“Would you?”

“Of course.”

You kept talking for a while. Abby told you about the party and about the cook Nora was currently hooking up with, and you told her about the boy in the kitchen. She recalled training with Danny when she first joined the WLF, laughing about how he had boasted that he wouldn’t lose to a girl and how she had him on the ground in a headlock in about two seconds.

At some point you must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew you were in the truck again, sitting in the passenger seat as the car flew through Seattle at top speed. You looked over and in the driver's seat there was the red-haired boy from the kitchen. His face was determined, a hard mask of concentration. He was panting hard, driving as fast as he could. Arrows were flying around you, soaring through the broken windows of the car and missing you by mere inches. A horse was whinnying. Scars. You immediately pulled out your gun and started shooting at everything that moved outside, hitting at least three people and a horse.

“Sorry,” you whispered as you reloaded. Animals weren’t fair.

You looked up and suddenly there was someone standing in the middle of the street. A small girl, brown-haired and in a red dress. Her back was to you. You screamed at the driver, but it was too late. The truck hit the child and it was thrown against the windshield, making a horrible noise as it cracked the glass and rolled over the roof to the back of the car where it fell to the ground. The truck came to a shrieking halt and you jumped out, gun drawn. The scars had vanished. You and the redhead ran back to where the girl was laying in a heap on the street, so small and fragile. Blood was running through the cracks in the pavement.

You turned the girl on her back and froze when you saw her face.

“Sierra! No, no, no, oh god no, what have we done - Sierra, Sierra, baby, look at me!”

“Y/N!” You heard your name but Sierra’s lips weren’t moving. “Y/N!” You whipped your head around and woke up.

It was dark and Abby had an arm wrapped around you, the other was holding your cheek. You swallowed and struggled for air.

“I’ve got you, hey, just breathe for me, I’ve got you.” Abby’s voice was sleepy and rough, something you'd have never thought you’d have the privilege of hearing. It calmed you down instantly. You dug your fingers into her arm, strong muscle flexing beneath your touch.

“Shhh, that’s right, just hold on. You’re okay.” You melted into her arms, hands and legs still shaking. She made a quiet humming noise in the back of her throat and pressed another kiss to your scalp. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” you whispered and she hummed again in response. You rested your head against her chest and listened to her breaths as they slowly became more regular, chest steadily moving against you. Her heartbeat thumped softly in your ear. Cocooned in the wolf’s arms and serenaded by the quiet symphony of her sleeping body, you finally drifted off to sleep again.

[author-morgan]

are... are requests for Eivor open again? if so, could u, um do something where he gets into the cold water or has been out on a cold night for too long and needs to be warmed up? anything fluffy because i love how u write him.

here you are, anon! fluffy lil drabble about getting Eivor all warmed up. also did you read my mind, because i was thinking of something very similar to this not too long ago?

m!Eivor x fem!Reader

“EIVOR!” YOU CRY, dropping a cup of ale onto the floor in shock. He is standing in your doorway, soaked to the bone, and trembling in the cold night —ice stiffens his clothes and gathers in his uncombed beard. You motion him in and push him toward the burning brazier at the center of the room, tossing three more pieces of halved wood to keep the flames from dying down. 

Returning to Eivor, you begin undressing him —frozen clothes will do nothing but make him colder and sick. His wool and fur mantle falls away from his shoulders, followed by his leathers and linens until he’s bear, arms crossed over his chest. You lay your hand on his shoulder, urging him to sit by the brazier before turning to gather up the patchwork of pelts from the straw mattress. 

He glances over his shoulder, finding you’d stripped from your woolen dress and were only left in a loincloth and breast band with a woolen blanket and furs in your arms. A moment later, you join him on the floor —sitting astride his lap, draping the fur and wool around you both and pressing your chest tightly to his, arms wrapped around his middle. Eivor’s skin is like ice, the warm glow of the fire revealing the blue pallor that’d taken him. “What are you doing?” He asks, voice still shaking. 

“Using my warmth,” you breathe, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. The cold could kill a man, but so could warming up too quickly after being nigh frozen. Eivor loosely grips onto your hips —fingertips pressing into your thighs— as you run your hands up and down his back, his heart racing. You hold fast to him, feeling the part of the cold sink into your bones too. He turns his head, rough lips brushing over your forehead. 

Once his heart calms and breathing grows even, he leans against a stack of firewood and pulls you with him —unwilling to give up your warmth. Resting a hand over his cheek, you trace the scar there and meet his clear blue gaze. “What happened?” You ask, hand slipping down to his shoulder and chest.

Eivor shakes his head, ridiculing his folly —he should have known better than tread that path. “The ice wasn’t as thick as I thought on one of the pools near Hildisvíni Crag,” he answers. One misstep and the next thing he knew was a cold that felt like a thousand blades stabbing him at once. Had he been further from Fornburg, he would likely have frozen in the night, but he’d made it home and into the warmth of your loving arms.

Knowing he must be starving after having left before sunrise, you rise from his lap and lift the kettle from over the fire —pouring out the remaining hot water into a cup holding a sash of dried bilberry and birch. Leaving the brew steeping, you gather a small meal and return to his side. “Here,” you press the stone cup into his hands and sit back at his side with a plate of brown bread, butter, and smashed elderberries.

“Better?” You ask, smiling. A soft flush of pink returns to his cheeks and his touch is no longer like ice. Eivor nods and leans to the side, pressing his lips against your temple. He’s lost track of the times he’s returned home at ungodly hours in unpredictable conditions only to be greeted by your smile and kiss —it’s only recently he has been able to start referring to you as his wife. 

Sighing, you reach for his hand and thread your fingers through his, tucking your entwined hands beneath your chin. The gods both blessed and cursed you by entangling your fate with Eivor Wolfsmal’s. He is the best man you know, and you’re grateful to call him yours, but you worry for him a great deal —never knowing if he’ll come back bloody and missing limbs or nigh frozen in the night. “You scared me,” you admit, voice barely a whisper.

“That wasn’t my intent,” Eivor notes, pulling you back against his chest, his arm settling around your waist. He doesn’t like it when you worry for him, but he knows nothing he says can change that. You’d been his best friend years before he ever called you his wife, and you always worried for him until he was back safe at home.

“I know,” you tell him, gaze darting from the patch of dark blond hair on his chest up to his eyes. “Just don’t go making a habit out of it,” you add, laughing softly. 

His lips kink into a smile, and he bends forward. Eivor’s beard scratches and tickles your cheek and chin just for a moment before his lips touch yours —still smiling. You slip your hand from his and loosely comb through the hair at the back of his neck as you push closer to him. Eivor’s kisses are sweet as summer mead, soft as the first snowfall, and you can never get enough of them. He pulls away, brushing the backs of his fingers over your cheek. “I don’t plan to,” he assures you. Plans seldom seem to go in his favor, though.

Rid of the deathly chill that’d taken him, Eivor gathers you up in his arms and moves to the straw-and-rag stuffed mattress separated from the main room by a screen of wattle and settles in for a late-night. Under the woolen blankets and patchwork of fur pelts, you curl into his chest and tangle your legs with his. He brushes away the hair covering your cheek and places a short kiss there. “Sleep well, love,” he breathes with a soft sigh, feeling you press a light kiss to his collarbone in return. Eivor settles his arms around you and feels a blossoming warmth in his chest —he smiles into the crown of your hair, knowing you to be the source of that warmth.

[taglist:  @kvitravn​ @vanillabeanlattes  @nemo-my-name-forevermore​  @withered-poppies​ @ananriel​ @britishhotassassin @maximalblaze​ @khaoskrossed @theelvenvalkyrie @xxdearlybeloved​ ]

[tornsurvivors]

@tornarts​ sent in:   Bo and Tamsin for the five times touched oh and when you get a chance eivor and Kass

i.     This woman was beyond INFURIATING.   Who does she think she is?   Bo Dennis has never played by anyone’s rules, but her own. She chose humans over Light and Dark. Over her own kind. But that does not mean Bo would commit murder purely out of a twisted pleasure.  Kill out of self-defense? Yes.  But if it’s not self-defense... then it’s most likely because her hunger spiraled beyond her control and knowledge. Then on top of that, Bo was still NEW to the Fae world... there was so little she knew about the power her blood possessed. Speaking of-- brown irises fluctuated, letting an otherworldly glow of blue bleed through. Her jaw clenches as a growl reverberated. With a burst of unnatural strength, the unaligned succubus BROKE FREE from the grip the valkyrie had on her wrist and turned the tables so fast she made Tamsin stagger for a moment. Now, she was in complete control again.  Her hand was wrapped tightly around Tamsin’s wrist as she snarled, her voice sounding completely demonic:  “Do that again, I dare you.”   Bo certainly did NOT like being dominated. At least not outside of the bedroom, but not every person she fucks gets to dominate her. Only those she trusts. The rest are just for feeding and healing purposes.

ii.     Tired,  MUST KEEP GOING.  Must... find her.   Hel knows there would be no mercy from Bo if anything were to happen to the missing human daughter of a Fae client.  A brow twitched in irritation when she hears her ‘company’ give an annoyed huff.  Shut up, Tamsin-- before her snippy response to that could even roll off her tongue, the Valkyrie proceeds to floor her with a question. Something Bo could’ve sworn that Tamsin was not capable of... “When was the last time you fed?”  Dare she question that somewhere in her wretched body, there’s a caring bone?  Perhaps Bo has underestimated her.  Ought to work on that some more. “I don’t know. What does it matter to you?”   Or maybe she didn’t underestimate her, proven by the answer: because I’m not going to carry you. Bo just rolls her eyes. Welcome back, asshole-- had her worried for a second there. Oh, it doesn’t end there. The valkyrie,    yet again,     manages to floor her with the offer of feeding off of her. But not without the threat of killing her if she told anyone about this, which restores that stolen comfort.   Fuck it, might as well. Tamsin was right, in her own mean way-- she’s going to need the energy to find the daughter.  So with a glower at Tamsin once the valkyrie lowered herself to her eye level, Bo reached out to grab a fistful of the blonde hair, dragging her in. The hard kiss was sort of accidental, before she begun to inhale a steady stream of Tamsin’s chi.  Jesus, she forgot how incredibly unique Tamsin’s chi tasted. Just like Dyson’s... feels like fireworks going off, but this was far more intense. 

iii.     ‘You idiot.’    She doesn’t say it out loud, because the unconscious valkyrie won’t hear her.  Worry was heavy in tired brown eyes as they watched over Tamsin on the bed in Lauren’s clinic. Her arms were folded across her chest,    tightly in an almost defensive stance,     as if she was trying to shield her heart from getting hurt.  It’s too late-- it already ached so bad from a combination of different things.  Heavy emotions.    The shock when Tamsin was struck after carelessly throwing herself in front of her,  followed closely by the fear that Tamsin might have not survived the hit and lastly... an emotion that Bo Dennis was very well known for. Love.  She was a creature of love and passion. Yet, it still shocks her beyond words-- the fact she was... falling for this stubborn asshole. She loves Lauren, and now she also loves Tamsin. She cannot bear the thought of losing them both.   Her attention shifts to the blonde doctor who had finished checking Tamsin’s vitals, before Lauren fixed her with this soft, reassuring stare and walked around the bed. Bo cannot recall a time when Lauren’s hand was cold... it just never was, as it laid on Bo’s forearm with a squeeze.  “She’ll live, Bo. Even if she had died... she would’ve been reborn and came back to us. She IS a valkyrie after all.”   Bo slowly exhaled and closed her eyes momentarily, nodding with a small smile. She was right-- but that doesn’t lessen the fact it tears at her heart to see Tamsin getting nearly killed. Unfolding an arm from the defensive stance,     which had been eased by Lauren’s warm touch,   Bo reached her hand down-- slipping it into Tamsin’s with a squeeze. Eyes opened and flicked down at Tamsin as she whispered:  “You better come back to us. Or I’ll hunt you down and kick your ass, old woman.” 

iv.       ABSOLUTELY BREATHLESS,    Tamsin never fails to stun her.   This time was just whole another level. The valkyrie had died weeks ago and was reborn,     that day nearly destroyed Bo’s sanity,     but here she was. Looking exactly the same she did before she died. However, this was the FIRST TIME she saw Tamsin’s wings-- spread out all in their glory. For the first time in a while, the powerful succubus felt... intimidated.   Just a little.   “You’re beautiful.”  Bo suddenly blurts out, while slowly and cautiously drawing closer to the valkyrie. “I used to hate you when we first met... I thought you were infuriating. But now I think you’re... absolutely beautiful, and I wish I had met you sooner.  I didn’t know what I was going to do when I lost you... I wanted to tear Valhalla apart just to find you.”  Closer, and closer-- till she’s finally standing directly in front of Tamsin and a warm, genuine smile spread across Bo’s face. The urge to touch the wings was overwhelming, but she knew that’d be overstepping the line at the moment-- so she refrains from doing so. Instead, she carefully closes off the gap in between their bodies and wrapped her arms around Tamsin. As soon she felt the valkyrie relax in the embrace, telling Bo it was welcome-- she tightened her hold and buried her face in Tamsin’s neck. Inhaling her scent. She nearly cries, because it just feels like a WHOLE weight had been lifted off her chest. She had Tamsin back, that was the only thing in the whole entire world that mattered right then. 

v.       Pure bliss is absolutely an understatement here.  HADES,    her father,     was sent back to the depths of Hel where he belonged.   The world didn’t end. Kenzi was alive and well, living her own life like she deserved.  Even though her grandfather, Trick-- is gone... she knows he’s watching over them anyway. Along with her mother. They were at peace, that’s all that mattered to Bo.   For the first time in MONTHS, Bo was slipping out of a deep and peaceful slumber... untouched by nightmares. Only to be greeted by the breathtaking sight of Tamsin looking down at her with this ridiculously happy smile. It just makes her heart skip a few beats.  “Mmm... having fun watching me sleep? That’s adorable.”  Bo murmured, voice still a little scratchy from sleep.  God, even Tamsin’s genuine laugh hits her so hard in such a divine way.  The valkyrie’s bright blue eyes glinted as Tamsin’s lips quirked in amusement. Bo couldn’t help but... just stare.   The morning light spilling through the window of their honeymoon suite, just above the king-sized bed-- painted quite the stunning picture behind Tamsin’s head.  Made her look like an angel for a moment there, despite the devilish smirk on her wife’s face.   “No, I’m just happy that I don’t have to listen to you snore anymore.”     Bo laughed and rolled her eyes, before reaching her hand up-- the one with the wedding band on it,   and grabbed the back of Tamsin’s neck... pulling her down for a deep kiss, mumbling in between:  “Shut up and give me a proper good morning, why don’t you?” 

[nekokennedychan-blog]

Medicrinn Chapter One

Self Insert F!Eivor/Female Reader. Intuition is something one should never ignore. The wind will always hint at what is to come.

Masterlist here.

Trigger Warnings: VERY Graphic depictions of violence, blood, and death. Themes of depression and solitude.

A/N: First ever fanfic. I don’t know what I'm doing. I have absolutely no idea how far this will take me, but I've been inspired by so many writers in this community and of course by lovely Eivor. This is the first chapter. Very little Eivor here. Some building up of our lead's personality and a little history. But don’t worry. Eivor is coming. And it’ll get sexy. Eventually. feedback welcome. I am newborn child with no idea what I'm doing. Please help me.

The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange, blue, and purple, stars already twinkling in the darkest areas of the sky. A large crescent sliver sat on the western edge, the sight of the moon reminding you of a grinning wolf. There was something in the air tonight. Something that made your skin crawl, contrasting with the gorgeous end of the day. It unsettled you, though you couldn't pin point what the actual problem could be.

You bent down and continued to gather the calendula that grew on the hill here. You were running low as the monastery you lived on the edge of had recently begun to acquisition you for as much of your healing ointments as you could make. You didn't keep up with what monks of Beodoricsroth involved themselves with, but you were thankful for the patronage. It wasn't often the Holy men would seek outsiders for medical remedies, and they paid very handsomely. You had heard talk amongst your neighbors about some unrest due to some type of savage raiders.

Perhaps that is what has them panicked…

You gathered as much as your satchel could handle, and glanced at the moon. A burst of wind caused the unsecured pieces of hair to obscure your vision, bringing with it an icy chill. Rubbing your arms and pulling your furs closer to yourself, you turned to your dale. His large black eyes watched you closely as he huffed, seemly agreeing with your inner thoughts.

"We should get back, Fallon. The winds tell of misfortune today."

Mounting the tall horse quickly, you dug your boots into his sides and pushed him to a full lope, guiding him down the familiar path home with ease. As you got closer to town, dark clouds rolled across the sky, bringing with it sharp gusts of cold wind and the smell of coming rain. The familiar lighted windows of families already settled for the night greeted you are you slowed your steed on the main road of the outwr abbey.

You moved through the settlement quickly, to a lone house with a small stall to its left. Quaint but well kept, your home was the only thing left to you when your parents passed. Pink flowers peppered the yard, bringing you back four autumns in your mind.

Taken within weeks of each other, the fever and sickness did not take your parents swiftly enough. You could smell the posies your father had made you bring into the home. You remember crying as you gathered them, as your father had given you all his knowledge, as they would be used to hide the stench of their coming deaths. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull the bushes up.

Once grounded, you pulled Fallon into his stall, tossed him some hay, and hurried through your front door, carrying in your collections of the day. The strong smell of multiple herbs greeted you, and you fumbled for the candle you kept just inside. Once lit, the medical storehouse that was your home was brought into pale focus.

The flickering light, coupled with the feeling of dread pitting in your stomach, the made many candles, dried herbs, and vials laid out take on a sinister appearance. You hastened to light the hearth to dispel the illusion.

Notes in your flowing chirography littered almost the whole table you set your satchel on, each one depicting in detail different cures, remedies, and treatments. You liked being thorough and enjoyed carrying on your father’s work. It made for a very singular existence, as no sane man wanted an independent and intelligent woman. Perhaps spending so much time alone was making you nervous. The dark evening and spooky feelings were surely just your loneliness taking a toll on your psyche.

You slid the furs from your shoulders, hanging the coat over the small bench at the table. You sat on top of it, reaching down to pull the expensive leather riding boots from your sore feet. Unlacing the black outer dress at your chest, you shook it from your shoulders and let it fall to the floor, leaving you in the white underdress you would wear to bed. Lifting a pot of water, you hung it up over the fire and began prepping a small portion of meat.

A good supper and a night's rest through the coming storm would bring a better tomorrow. Or so you told yourself.

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

Acrid smoke. That is the smell that woke you from a dreamless sleep. Fumbling on the stand next to your bed, you managed to light a candle. Thick smoke filled your home, but the smell of it was of nothing within. Confused and sleep dazed, you tumbled out of your fur blankets and slipped on your simple house shoes.

Once standing, and with a gust of wind from the slatted window, it was clear that the smoke was being pushed inside. At the moment of this understanding also came the awareness of sound - that of screaming, metal on metal, and the terrible sound of a maelstrom, all entwined together. No sooner does this register for you, and before any decision or action can be taken, does the door to your home splinter violently open. An armored man tumbles through the ruined door, the red and silver armor marking him clearly as one of Aelfred's men. Frozen, you watched as the man raised himself to his knees, his brown eyes meeting yours through the opening in his helmet.

"Apothecary," he wheezed, reaching out a hand towards you, "we need..." The man never finished his sentence. With a whistling sound, an axe cleanly sliced through the male's throat, embedding itself in the wall next to the fireplace. You watched in horror as the man's mouth hung open and his head fell from his shoulders, rolling across the floor. Blood sprayed everywhere, coating the walls and ground. You dropped your light and rushed forward, sliding across the slick wood, trying to get to the only weapon you kept in your home.

A flash of lightening temporarily drew your attention to the now hole of a front door, and your heart stopped beating. Standing in the opening was a tall figure. Covered head to toe in sliver armor and black furs, stood a Viking. Braided blonde hair hung over the warrior's shoulder, the shaved side of her head decorated with tattoos. Fresh blood spatter danced across her scarred face, drawing your eyes to bright green ones accentuated with charcoal war paint. And in her left hand, from the peripherals of your vision, was an axe - one you were sure matched the one in your wall.

[jikanet-tanaka]

Playing the game, it’s cute and all for Eivor to make all these friends while she travels, but I always think about poor Randvi stuck behind in Ravensthorpe and… well, I like to imagine that she ends up with pen pals from all around England (because Eivor doesn’t strike me as the kind to actually take the time to respond to her allies’ letters). So here is a list of all the people with whom Randvi keeps correspondence over the years!

Valdis: These two struck me as being pretty similar, both in temperament and in the kind of life they’ve led. They’re both calm, serious shieldmaidens who were pushed to a position of power (one that they might have not exactly wanted) thanks to an arranged marriage (Valdis is just luckier on that count since she ended up with the goodest boy in all of England). I just feel they would bond over that and also vent about the useless men in their family getting in the way of everything.

Stowe: again, they’re two people with a solid head on their shoulders and who have the heavy responsibility of ruling a growing, multicultural city. I can see them exchanging advice and becoming close friends over the years. They would also fondly complain about the shenanigans of the dumb blond warriors they love, because wlw/mlm solidarity, am I right?

Ceolbert: he didn’t actually send her that many letters, since he was so busy helping broker the peace with the Britons. Yet, Randvi kept all of them, putting his letters in a small, beautifully carved box, treating them as if they were the most precious of mementos. Sometimes when she feels lonely, Randvi sits in her bed, reading his words and wondering… could things have gone differently?  Was she lacking as a teacher? Could she have prepared him better for the harshness of life? Deep down, Randvi knows there was nothing she could have done. She knows that her guilt is unfounded and that his fate had already been decided by the gods. Still, she reads his letters and wonders. Still, she reads his letters and mourns.

Ljufvina: they both seems so cooped up in their new roles, you know? Yes, Randvi and Ljufvina have found happiness in England, yes, they have more power and wealth at their disposal than they ever had in their lives, but still… once upon a time, they were fierce shieldmaiden, courting death in search of glory. Now they’re stuck playing politics, forced to meddle in the small lives of small-minded people. Yes, Randvi understands Ljufvina’s rancor all too well. A bit too well, even.

Hunwald: At first, Randvi never wrote to Hunwald (she isn’t stupid, y’all, why would she feed the beast?) But the guy kept sending letters upon letters to Eivor, more than any of her other allies combined, and, well, someone has to answer him, right? It was a dreadful idea; soon, Randvi herself was drowned in letters filled with bad poetry and ‘fascinating’ tidbits about the lineage of the kings of Lindsey (did you know that they were descended from Woden himself??) For quite a while, Randvi entertained the notion of using these wastes of parchment and ink as kindling. In the end, however, she was glad to have kept those reminders of a simpler, happier time.

Tewdwr: The guy actually never writes to Randvi, though she finds herself having to read the letters he sends to Eivor. Turns out poor Tewdwr is nursing quite the crush, and he keeps trying to court Eivor with horribly written verses. Is that a thing with Saxon lordlings, Randvi wonders? She writes Valdis, and the other woman answers (with clear amusement) that, yes, them Saxon lordlings sure love their dorky love poems. Eivor never actually thinks to read any of Tewdwr’s letters, and so remains blissfully clueless about the entire affair.

Vili: if he becomes Jarl, that is. I don’t know, the guy is so effortlessly charming, I’m sure they would become fast friends. He would be one of the only people to make her laugh out loud whenever she read his letters. She also prods him mercilessly for stories about the dumb shit Eivor did as a kid. Vili happily obliges, of course. Eivor starts to regret ever introducing them to each other.

[camdentown-library]

Day O1 : Holding Hands || male!Eivor x fem!reader

𝕺𝖍, 𝖆 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖋𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋𝖋 𝖆 𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖋, 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖎𝖙 𝖇𝖊?

You and Eivor have made your way to Glowechestreschire, apparently his blacksmith friend was in the mood for marriage and in all honesty after the tragic chapter of Sigurd it was a valid excuse to change a bit 'air. By now the air when the two Vikings were close became almost unbreathable, even for you, Hidden-One with a calm and static mind. As soon as you arrived from Gunnar you were expecting a wedding, sure, but you certainly weren't expecting a party country! Apparently a pagan celebration was upon us: Samhain. Gunnar explained to you that on this holiday the monstrous creatures of the night came out and the people of the village left all kinds of sweets to them. So the blacksmith advised you to disguise yourself as monsters so you can have fun collecting some sweets and scare some naughty children.

"Hahaha ... I feel ridiculous" you said after Gunnar and his promised wife helped you dress up as a monster "You are ridiculous, mate" you said pointing at Eivor with a laugh. He wore the skull of an animal, which covered his face and you too were dressed in the same way. Eivor laughed under his breath as he watched you from head to toe. "Believe me, if there's anything ridiculous it's a monster of your short stature, y / n" he commented crossing his arms to his chest. "Hey!" you said with a slight pout. "Nonsense! You are the spirits of Mari Lwyd herself, Now let's go! Don't take your cloak off during the party and if you sing the locals will delight you with beer and sweets" Gunnar explained, in his usual way of brave storyteller. "Even with a knife to my throat you won't hear me sing" Eivor commented, with the same friendliness as a hunting wolf, you and Gunnar held back a laugh at that point. "Too bad. You know, y / n, Eivor has a really beautiful voice when he sings. Once larks have fallen before him" the building told you in his rich, bubbly and cheerful voice. You bit your cheek so as not to burst out laughing and thanked the gods of Eivor and Gunnar for hiding your face behind a mask. "You know Gunnar, I don't know if the larks have fallen in front of him or fainted for some out of tune" the blacksmith then replied with a fat laugh, while Eivor stopped walking and turned towards you putting his hands on his hips. "Enough..." he said curling his lips a little "Come on now y / n, we have a lot to do and...Gunnar if I find out that my friend and I are the only ones dressed in this absurd way, I'll fill the shop with sheep" concluded the viking from the hair blonde as straw after inviting you with a nod to follow him. It wasn't such a bad night, in fact to be honest you were really enjoying yourself !! You had never been used to participating in these parties so weird, but at the same time fascinating...You felt in a sense your lost childhood rejuvenate and surely celebrating with Eivor was a good choice. You had gone to the door of a house and when it opened a child came out and at the sight of you two gave you all his sweets, with a terrified expression on his face. As soon as the door closed, you heard Eivor's hoarse voice explode in sincere amused laughter. "HAHAHA! Did you see how many sweets? We also have an apple pie!" "hahahaha! Did you see what that kid's face? We could really ask him anything and he would have given it to us" you commented while holding your belly contracted for too much laughter. You looked at Eivor, well...Eivor's mask, for a few moments and after giving him an amused smile, you took him by the hand and started running. "Come on Eivor! Let's find a secluded place to eat our loot" you suggest starting to run, while your friend couldn't help but think how tiny your hand was compared to his. You sat on a hill and after taking off your mask and sharing an amused, contented laugh, you split your apple pie. It was delicious ... you have never eaten such a good and spicy dessert! "We needed this evening between friends" Eivor began eating some cake, observing the horizon and the moon reflecting like silver on the shores of the lake. "You're right..." you commented with your mouth full. "Do you think ... do you think I'm a weightlifting brother?" the Viking suddenly asked after what moment of silence, while you suddenly turned your gaze towards him, with a puzzled grimace. "What ?! No-" you said suddenly and then regain consciousness and understand why he was asking you icò "Hey..." you approached him, taking his left hand with both of yours "You did what you could, ok It is true the skalds sing of an otherworldly warrior, but Eivor, you are a man, you have your limits, and anyone would have done what you did. You have gone even beyond your limits, you have often gotten into trouble, for save Sigurd's life. In time he too will understand" you explained stroking his hand, while the wheat-haired Viking, in a moment of confidence, placed his forehead on yours "Friends don't lie Eivor, what I say is pure truth, Sigurd is shaken by a great anger but over time he will understand who the people who really love him are” you said "And until he understands it, I'll be there to hold your hand" you concluded with a small reassuring smile. Your foreheads were still attached, and the gentle eyes of the drengr at your side watched you closely and then let out a deep sigh. "You're a good girl, y/n" he murmured leaving you a kiss on the forehead and then cheerfully ruffling your hair to dampen his regret caused by his worries, you smiled too as you walked away from him. "You're the good boy, ferocious drengr with a generous heart" "Ah, leave the flattery to Gunnar" he said with a chuckle. "About Gunnar ..." and you both glanced at you, while you smirked "Why don't you sing me a song" "No" the Viking seemed to sulk like a child, and you laughed. "Come on" "Forget it" "I'll give you all my sweets" you proposed, making the blond boy waver. "Just a verse" "Three" "Deal, I want all the apple pie" he said, wiping the crumbs off his lips and standing up after taking a sip of beer, a gift from a village family. He cleared his throat and after looking at you with the same face as those who were walking around naked in the crowded streets he began to sing a tune "My mother told me, Someday I would buy ♫ Galleys with good oars, Sails to distant shores ♫ Stand up high in the prow ♫ Noble barque I steer steady course for the haven ♫ Hew many foe-men ♫ Hew many foe-men ♫ Hew-Hey- Ah-ooooh!" she concluded with a proud howl, while you giggling touched by her demeanor, applauding laughing. It is true, the next morning you would have had to face everyday life again, but unfounded now it was right to enjoy this moment together. "Come, y/n. I teach you to dance this song" Eivor said, giggling, taking both hands and lifting you off the ground. "Hey! Weren't you the one who didn't even want to sing?" you asked ironically, as he guided your hands to follow the steps. "You unleashed the madman in me, now you will suffer the consequences, Eagle-cub"

𝕿𝕳𝕰 𝕰𝕹𝕯

𝕯𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖊? 𝕺𝖗 𝖉𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓?

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

Tag list : @tazzclegane​

[itseivwhore]

Eivor with dark hair gives me such a different impact. But that doesn't mean that it makes him less hot though,oh no...

alSO HE IS SASSY AND CHEEKY and I'm LOVING THIS.

"That's a bread knife, my lord. Do you intend to butter me?"

[kiatheinsomniac]

Since requests are open, may I ask for female eivor x female reader angst that ends up with fluff?

You've all made me love writing for fem Eivor now with these requests. I went for another floral themed title considering two of my recent works have been called 'Daffodils' and 'Wildflowers' hehe

Word count: 1.9k

Fires and Chamomile

What was supposed to be a simple contract that would earn you enough to eat for that week had gone utterly wrong and you began cursing yourself for your pride to not take hand-outs.

In Ravensthorpe, you'd found a stable enough home within a community of welcoming people, their Jarlskona being Eivor Varinsdóttir, the woman who had captured your interest shortly before capturing your heart. She was always willing to support you in really finding your feet financially within the Hamlet that she led but you had grown up far too independent to accept things for free if there was something that you could do to get it yourself first.

Gods, were you cursing that part of your personality now.

The contract had been an ambush, you recognised the small group of men from an assassination contract you had carried out a few months ago and thought nothing of afterwards.

They clearly had thought something of it as you were now trapped inside a burning house that was small enough to be deemed a shack; a very flammable one considering you were at the peak of summer and it was built of wood with a thatched roof.

You had given up on kicking the door down when a flaming beam fell from the ceiling, blocking the way to your only exit. The heat of the fire had you sweating through your clothes and you had dropped to the floor in an attempt to escape the thick smoke that had you hacking your lungs up already.

You could only hope that some part of the place would cave in without crushing you and you could leap out through the flames, escaping with some bad burns but also with your life.

You brought your scarf up to cover your mouth, eyes squinting at the burn of the smoky room. You really hoped that a way out would make itself apparent.

As though your prayers had been answered for one of the very few times in your life, the door fell in upon itself and you were squinting at the figure who stood in the doorway, light pouring in behind them and painting them as a silhouette. They bounded into the room and you felt an arm slide under your shoulders, hoisting you up and carrying you through the flames that licked at your calves, setting your leggings alight partially.

Rather unceremoniously, you were dropped upon a patch of grass once outside and groaned at the feeling of someone's hands beating against your legs, feeling dizzy and burying your face in the crook of your arm as you coughed in the clean air.

You soon felt calloused palms against your skin and you heard their voice before you recognised their face.

"You prideful, stubborn woman!" She chastised but you could hear the worry that was laced in it. You could feel a smile tug lazily at your lips as you ignored the sunlight that strained your eyes to take in blonde locks and braids that fell around her face like a curtain as she leaned over you. Her blue eyes were wide with worry and relief, slightly watery. You let your eyes slip closed, head lolling in her palms.. Your head hurt and you just wanted to fall asleep for an hour or two to feel better. "Don't you fall asleep now." She patted her fingers rapidly against your face and you groaned, turning your head to the side to cough some more, grimacing when you spat out black onto the grass.

"I just need to sleep it off..." You mumbled, trying to sit up on unsteady hands, feeling dizzy.

"You need to see Valka." Eivor corrected, referring to Ravensthorpe's priestess and healer.

"But I only want to see you..." You sighed out, taking one of her hands in yours. She cupped your face again and frowned in sympathy as she looked at your eyes, red and bloodshot from the smoke.

"I'll stay with you, I promise, but you need to help me out and let me take you." You lifted your arms a little for her to get her arm under your shoulders again, hoisting you up onto her horse and sliding into the saddle behind you. You hummed and leaned back against her strong chest as she wrapped her arms around you, taking the reins.

You must have dozed off because when you awoke, it was upon a bed in Valka's hut. You looked around in the room drearily, glad for the fact that it was dimly lit.

Valka was mixing up some concoction at a bench on the other side of the room and you twitched your fingers to feel that you were holding something in them. Looking down, you found that it was a hand, covered in faint little scars, you followed it up to see tattooed skin and then then worried face of Eivor who was watching Valka work. You smiled to yourself and gave her hand a gentle squeeze, letting her know that you were awake.

She gasped and quickly reached to help you sit up against the pillows, offering you a cup of water which you gratefully took, your throat feeling unpleasantly ticklish in a scratchy way. You swallowed down mouthfuls as she watched you with a worried expression.

"I'm ok." You tried to reassure her but were taken aback by just how hoarse your voice was. You tried to clear your throat but ended up rubbing your neck at feeling how much that hurt.

"Here," Valka said, approaching you and sitting at the foot of the bed, bringing your attention to the burned and blistered flesh upon your legs. You had been utterly unaware of it before but now that you could see it, you felt the sting of your wounds and hissed, squeezing Eivor's hand tighter. She brought her other hand up too in order to wrap it around yours entirely, trying to comfort you. You appreciated the gesture, "It's a chamomile oil, it should help to soothe it." You laid back down and scrunched your eyes shut, taking heavy breaths through your nostrils as she applied the ointment, burning your airways that were no doubt still trying to find ways to expel whatever soot was partially blocking them. She wrapped your legs in bandages and glanced between the two of you as she went over to the basin the rinse the oil from her hands.

"You had me worried sick..." Eivor began, "Why do you put yourself in these situations?" Her voice was soft but strained and you knew that there was a part of her that was resisting the urge to yell at you for being so reckless.

"Because..." You began and sighed. This wasn't a conversation that you wanted to have, you didn't like admitting your flaws but you knew that there was no way around admitting that you had unnecessarily put yourself in harm's way this time, "Because I don't know how to accept help." You picked at a threat on your tunic, it was scorched. "And I think that maybe it's because... it brings people together and I've been so afraid to lose anyone else since..." You swallowed hard. Eivor gave the slightest nod of her head. She knew about the siege that your family had died in years ago, leaving you to give up the remainder of your childhood to learn how to stand on your own two feet. In that time, trust had been something that you had made yourself unlearn and you were having a hard time remembering how to do it again. "And I want to let you in, Eivor, I really, really do. I know we've argued in the past about me pushing you away and ignoring you from time to time but..."

"But?" She prompted and you looked up into blue eyes that were full of nothing but compassion.

"It would break me if I ever lost you." The words came out in a whisper and the back of your throat stung from the effort of preventing yourself from sobbing.

"Then I promise to always come back to you, to always find you." She knelt down on the ground beside the low-down bed, now on eye-level with you, "I did it today, didn't I?" She hummed and you nodded your head, looking away in case you cried. You hated crying in front of people.

She leaned forwards and wrapped her arms around you as much as she could with you laying down, her upper half resting over yours and you froze for a moment before your arms snapped around her body and you lurched upwards, pushing her to sit up in your fierce embrace.

She could feel how your body trembled against her, fingers curling into the fabric of her clothing as though she would vanish if you so much as eased your grip. You couldn't remember the last time anyone had held you but, in that moment with Eivor, you never wanted it to end. You buried your face into her shoulder and let out a shattered breath as tears welled in your eyes, feeling so utterly blissful and overwhelmed in her arms.

"You ok there?" She spoke with her smile in her voice, tilting her head a little to try and look at your face. You rapidly nodded your head, leaning your weight onto her even more and you loved how it didn't make her falter at all, her strong body supporting you.

When you did pull away, you wrapped your arms around her neck, one hand carefully caressing her blonde locks. You opened your mouth to speak those words that you longed to tell her but never imagined that you could, that a time would ever come for them. They didn't leave your tongue but your eyes fell to her lips for a long moment before flickering back up to meet her gaze.

Her arms around your lower waist pulled you closer, making your back arch so that your fronts were squished against each other, feeling your breaths and heartbeats as one. Eyes lidding behind long lashes, she leaned in slightly and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, testing the waters. You turned your face into her next kiss and tangled your fingers in her hair as your eyes fluttered shut.

"You don't need to be alone anymore." She whispered against your lips, "I'm here, we're here, together." You leaned in for one more tender kiss against her lips, hand coming to cup her face and caress the deep scar on her cheek. Her eyes opened to search yours for a vulnerability that had not existed within them for many years, that she had never known of you, "Will you let me be here for you?"

"I wouldn't want anyone else." She smiled at your words.

"Then accept my help. It's yours to take." Another soft kiss to coax you to agree. You nodded your head slightly. "We'll start with the healing process. I'll sort out your meals, keep your home tidy while you stay with me."

"Stay with you?" You murmured against her lips. Another kiss.

"I dragged you out of a fire today and feared you were dying as I rode you back here." You could hear the worry but felt how it melted into a cheeky smile, "I'm not letting you out of my arms so easily after that..."

"There's no where else in the world that I would want to be right now."

"The same can be said for me..."