#this time i will NOT watch tlk if we save him

[benadrylcandlewhack]

WE'RE DOING A SEQUEL

NO ROOM FOR NUANCE, YOU KNOW HOW IT WORKS, ALL PROPAGANDA FOR EITHER SIDE GOES

[mrsarnasdelicious]

TLK Christmas - Christmas with Sihtric

"Just in time for Yule." You murmur, as you watch your husband dismount his dapple grey steed.

His eyes are scanning the crowd for you and once he has spotted you, he smiles widely. He hands the reins to a stablehand and hurries over. "My love." He murmurs. He is tense with anticipation. "Husband." You demure. He smirks at you and then takes you gently by the hips. He pulls you against his and noses at your neck.

"I have missed you, so much. For a good while I feared I would not be back in time for the Yule. But I am on time and I brought gifts for you and the children." He murmurs against your skin. "Having you home is the only gift I could need." You reply. "Yes, but I think the children would like some toys." Sihtric teases. You have to concede there. "They would." You agree.

Sihtirc takes your hand and together you walk to your large long house. The children are all gathered by the doorway, eager to see their father again.

Amoung them are also Cynlaef and Aethelstan as well. They blend in perfectly with the children you have birthed. Both boys are ten now and they are as good as your sons. "Hello, my sweets, it is good to see you all again." Sihtric crouches and opens his arms. Not all his sons and daughter fit in one embrace, but he does his very best. You crouch too, to close the embrace from the other side. All young children are loved.

"Did you bring, sweets, Father?" Jari asks. Sihtric chuckles and ruffles his son's hair. "Of course I did." He says warmly. "Can we have them now?" Cynlaef asks. "Will you all go play if I give you the sweets?" Sihtric grins. His eyes cast up at you. You roll your eyes. You know exactly what he is thinking.

He has missed you.

And although you have missed him too, it is better to save such things for when the children are all abed.

"Not now, Sihtric." You cooe. Your husband huffs softly. "I can never win with you, can I?" He asks, though it is in jest. You shake your head. "I am your wife, you admitted defeat when you built me a house to make our family a home." You tell him. Sihtric throws his head in his neck and laughs loudly.

He hands the children the sweets all the same and then turns to you.

"Can I at least get a kiss?" He asks. His dual coloured eyes shimmer with hot mischief. He will never not yearn for you. And you for him. You pull him in for a slow, warm kiss. Sihtric groans against your lips.

Gods, you have missed him! And what a good Yule this is going to be!

[c-rowlesdraws]

man if we're talking about hyenas. they were Baby's First Villain Fave for me (alongside the changelings from MLP FIM, who were also just trying to eat the abundance of food the heroes didn't want to share for some reason). i just remember being like wait. these people wouldnt have followed scar if they just. had enough food? seems like a very easy solution to me

MLP started airing when I was in college (insert gif of timelapse rapid-aging Matt Damon from Saving Private Ryan here), so I didn't really watch it and I'm not familiar with the changelings, but yeah like... watching TLK even as a little kid I was like, wait, these characters just want food? They're agreeing to follow the villain because they're hungry? That's not evil, that's just being desperate and not seeing a better way out of a bad situation. Like, dang. If my people were starving and a guy showed up promising he'd turn things around if we helped install him as king in place of the guy who beats us up every time we try to hunt on his land, I might go along with it too.

Apparently the live-action movie (which I probably won't watch) tries to "fix" this by making it clear the hyenas live in a barren wasteland because they overhunted, so really it's their own fault they're hungry, which is... a choice. In his review of the movie, Big Joel said something like (paraphrased because it's been a minute), "so they're evil because they're... bad at being animals?" which is a good way of phrasing it. It's one of those choices Disney has been consistently making in these live-action remakes where they try to fix a "problem" in the original movie by over-explaining it and just making things worse and dumber.

[halfmylife]

Sorry I’m Late

Pairing Modern!Finan x Reader

Summary You were supposed to be meeting someone for a blind date however but after about an hour you realise you’ve been stood up. That is until a certain stranger comes to save your night.

Warnings None

A/N This is based on a writing prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting except I decided to make it Modern!TLK because the idea was too cute!

You had been excited for your date, which was unusual. Typically you’d always shove the idea of dating far away from you, especially when your friends had pushed men your way. Yet tonight was different. Your friend had insisted that this guy was perfect for you. And for whatever reason, you agreed to a blind date. You really had been excited.

About an hour ago.

As time passed you found yourself feeling more and more defeated. The date hadn’t shown, or even bothered to message, so you assumed he might still turn up. You’d enthused to the waitress how excited you were when you first arrived but every ten minutes she’d look over and give you a sad look. Hardly the evening you were expecting at all.

You’d had maybe two glasses of wine. One for nerves. The other to pass the time. That was more than you had intended to drink the whole night. The waitress had even been kind enough to bring over some complimentary food for you to nibble on whilst you waited.

There had been a gentleman at the bar, about half an hour into your waiting. He was handsome enough from your viewpoint, with dark hair and a beard. You were sure you heard him speak with an Irish accent too. You were convinced he might be your date but it seemed less likely.

The pair of you made eye contact a few times and he even smiled, though you knew he wasn’t your date, part of you wanted to approach the bar and spend some time with him. You couldn’t help yourself but try and listen in to his conversation when he ushered over the waitress that had been serving you. Unfortunately you couldn’t make anything out.

You look at your watch. 8:03. You were supposed to meet at 7.

Tonight had not been your night. You were starving but too embarrassed to eat alone. Worst of all, you couldn’t imagine the embarrassment of walking out alone after being sat by yourself for an hour, drinking wine and waiting for no one to turn up. It was your only option.

It was decided. You couldn’t wait around any longer. So after leaving quite a generous tip, you went to grab your back and coat.

“Sorry I’m late!” You half jumped at the voice. The man from the bar stood in front of you, chucking his own coat over the back of the chair as you stared at him in awe. “Let me.” He moved to the side of you, a hand on the back of your chair. Confused, you took a seat once more and let him push you in.

You ignored any looks that were sent your way by the surrounding time, looks of pity you were certain. The only thing you could focus on was the man now sat in front of you. Surely he wasn’t your date. He seemed confident, too confident. Grabbing the menu in front of him, he opened it immediately and leant forward.

“I couldn’t just let ya walk out alone and hungry.” He whispered, giving you a wink.

“You really don’t have to.” You spoke quietly as you titled your head, he was already glancing over the menu figuring out what to eat.

“Do you have any other plans?” The only other plans you had were a date with an awful movie and a tub of ice cream. “Didn’t think so. Don’t let one prick ruin your night.”

“I’ll try not to.” You said with a half smile. Perhaps this night might go in your favour. After all, the man across from you was handsome, annoyingly so.

“Are we getting starters?” His eyebrows were raised as he watched you, anticipating your answer like it would make or break the evening.

“Of course we are.” You shrugged as though it was an obvious choice.

“Ya seem pretty set on that.” He laughed, plopping the menu down, having made his decision regarding food.

“I have been sat here waiting for an hour.” You argued, trying to laugh it off. This had not been the way you had anticipated the evening going but you could not help but revel in the moment.

“You make a fair point.” He raised his hands in defeat, smiling towards you. “Starters it is then.”

After ordering food and another glass of wine, the conversation soon started to flow. Finan had introduced himself and spent the entire evening trying to cheer you up. Truly he didn’t have to do much, the man was far too charismatic for his own good and there was a certain energy to him that just had you melting.

This date couldn’t have gone any better. Especially as he even offered to pay. Sure there had been some arguing but he was far quicker than you were and ended up paying for the whole bill, including the tip.

“You should’ve at least let me split it.” You muttered as you stepped outside, pulling your coat around you. The night was now dark and there was a chill in the air. “As a thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me.” He wriggled his shoulders into his own coat, walking beside you but leaving very little space. You hadn’t stopped smiling since the pair of you first spoke and even as you were leaving the restaurant you couldn’t help yourself.

“If you hadn’t sat with me, I would’ve probably had a miserable night, drowning my sorrows in ice cream.” You admitted, though you were grateful that hadn’t been your night. In a way you didn’t want it to end.

“Sometimes there’s nothing better than a tub of ice cream.” He shrugged, keeping pace with you. Your shoulders rubbed against one another as you walked down the street, sending a shiver down your spine. “And who’s to say you can’t still do that?”

“After that dinner, I think I’m way too full for anymore.” You laughed. It was true between the pair of you, you had eaten far too much. A whole three courses was a lot but worth every second, though perhaps the choice of outfit now felt a little suffocating.

“I have an idea.” He said suddenly, stopping a little before continuing on. Your expression dropped as you waited for him to continue, wondering what on earth this idea might be. “If you want to thank me, how about a second date? We can even include ice cream.”

“You know the way to a woman’s heart.” ice cream was the least tempting part of that offer. A charming Irishman stood in front of you, one you hadn’t even expected to meet, saved you from an awful night of loneliness and was now asking you on a second date.

“I certainly try.” He cocked his head, flashing you a gorgeous smile. “So how about it?”

“Okay, yeah.” You were sure your face had turned a vibrant shade of red as you felt the heat from your cheeks. “Yeah I’d like that.” He pulled something from his jacket, handing it to you.

“Here’s my number.” It was written on a napkin from the restaurant. You wondered at what point he had decided that he’d give you his number. It didn’t matter you took it all the same. “Message me the moment your home safe and we’ll sort something out.”

“Okay, cool.” If you weren’t blushing before you were certainly blushing now. “I’ll see you soon.” And just like that, your night had been saved.

[thalys-artcorner]

Maybe I Just Wanna Be Yours (Sihtric x OC) Rockstar!AU

*Disclaimer: Number one, I’m embarrassed to post this. Number two, I don’t usually write smut. Number three, english is not my first language and there will probably be very dumb spelling mistakes. Number four, the lyrics are from Artic Monkeys’ song 505, probably taken out of context. Number six, this idea came thanks to the little community of TLK simps we are on TikTok. Number seven..Actually that’s it.

Warning: swearing, smut and everything it entails. Also spelling mistakes? Is that a trigger warning? I think it should be a trigger warning.

Context: He’s a indie rockstar (no sh*t Sherlock) and she’s kind of an indie folk singer, I guess? Also they’re neopagans cause I like making winks to the show.

Honestly, whoever had scheduled the order of the concerts for that Festival owned Freydis a new pair of lungs. Of course her own show would overlap with her boyfriend’s, meaning she had to run all the way to the other side of the park right after spending nearly two hours singing. Thank the gods some guys from security in a golf cart had taken pity on her and given her a ride. Still, the show had already started when she finally got backstage, half afraid she might have a heart attack. So much for being in shape.

Still, she wouldn’t miss Sihtric perform for anything else in the world. Seriously, was their anything sexier than a rockstar?

The grounds around the stage were swarming with fanatics who were there to see Ragnarök perform. Not for nothing, the band was the closing act.  Thousands of people who’d come to see the English band founded by Uthred Ragnarsson. To think they’d started off at the bar owned by Uthred’s father, now everybody knew their name. Finan at the drums, Uthred as the lead guitar, sweet Osferth at the keyboards, and Sihtric as the vocalist. Fortunately, because even though Uthred had started the band, he couldn’t hold a note to save his life. Sihtric could. He could hold various notes, in fact. And he looked damn good doing it. Freydis swore, little things could get her more hot-and-bothered than seeing her boyfriend on stage.

He could also make her reach unspeakable notes too, all though that was an entirely different and private kind of performance.

Something about watching Sihtric perform was just...hypnotic and breathtakingly hot. His mismatched colored eyes acquired an intensity as if he could see right through your skin and peel off your clothes with his stare alone. He became completely immersed into the song, the stage, the rhythm, all of it. He had the ability to make everyone in the audience feel like he was singing to them and them alone. But every so often, he would steal a quick glance to the side of the backstage and look straight at her with a devilish smirk. Because he knew, he knew damn well how much it turned her on to see him on stage.

I'm going back to 505 If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side With your hands between your thighs

Again he was looking at her. The show was near the end, and his skin was shiny with a layer of sweat that made the cropped top he wore cling to his well-toned body, naturally making her think of the way that body pressed against hers, hovering, covering her completely, practically driving into her as if they could merge together into one. Freydis’s breath caught in her throat as she did her best to keep it together. She had started to ache about five songs ago, and started to feel the wetness between her thighs long before that.

That’s when she saw it. The handkerchief peeking out of his pocket, that he always wore half because of aesthetic and half because of superstition. Except it was not a handkerchief this time.

It was her fucking thong.

Freydis felt her cheeks heat up. She was fairly certain no one else had noticed, you couldn’t ready tell it was underwear unless you saw it up close. The only reason she realized was because, well, it was her underwear, she’d put it on that morning. And Sihtric had taken it off when they’d had a very brief but heated make-out session in between shows that was very rudely interrupted by her manager right after her boyfriend had taken the thong off.

He caught her looking this time and knew by her expression that she’d realized about the underwear too. His smirk only became naughtier as he dipped his hand into his pocket. Freydis’s eyes widened.

You fucking wouldn’t she thought.

Of course he didn’t, even though for a split second she had actually panicked. No, he simply took his hand off after a moment and then gripped the microphone with it before pressing it against his lips. From where she was standing, she could clearly see his tongue poke out between his lips and lick his fingers, even though the audience wouldn’t be able to tell since he was gripping the microphone.

Freydis swallowed hard. She couldn’t take it anymore. She turned on her heels and bolted off backstage. She navigated the people circulating through the hallway almost as if she was made of thin air, driven only by the need to find Sihtric’s room backstage. He’d given her the key before her own show had started. As soon as she found it, she let herself in, shut the door behind her and ran her hands through her long blonde hair.

She paced the room a couple of times, trying to cool off, but Sihtric’s eyes were still lingering on her in her head, her panties in his pocket, sweat down his forehead, the abs peeking from under the hem of his top. His husky voice singing about her hands between her thighs.

They were there before she’d even registered it. She stopped to rest her back against the nearest wall, closed her eyes and simply gave in and touched herself.

Fuck, she hadn’t actually registered how wet she was. As her fingers skimmed up the inner side of her thigh, she could feel a faint trail running down without the underwear to stop it. Her hips jerked forward when she first graced her sensitive folds.

“Shit” she whispered into the empty room. She started to rub just above her pussy in small circles, trying to keep quiet so as to not draw the attention of anyone at the other side of the door. Then, she dared to dip one finger inside, and had to bite her lip from crying out loud before inserting a second one. She brushed over her clit, the dull ache sending a shock through her entire body.

“Huh, decided to start without me, did you?”

Freydis gasped, hand falling limply to her side as she opened her eyes and found Sihtric smirking, leaning against the closed door behind him.

“I…” she felt her mouth dry “How…?”

“You forgot to lock the door, love”.

“I…did?”

Sihtric nodded. His smirk slowly disappeared as he took in her disheveled appearance. His eyes darkened “Must’ve wanted it real bad to let that slip from you mind”.

Freydis wetted her lips and slowly nodded, before raising the hand she’d been using to touch herself and extending it towards him. A small smile crossed her lips “Come kiss it better?”

Sihtric growled and covered the distance between them in two long strides, taking her hand and immediately holding it to his mouth kissing each one of her fingertips. Freydis’s breath hitched when he pressed her against the wall, his hot, sweaty body completely covering her. She gripped his side mullet and pulled it to make him lean down and kissed him hard, biting his lower lip. Sihtric groaned against his mouth, lips immediately opening to play with her tongue as if air was but a minor inconvenience. He gripped the hand that was pulling at his hair, and the one that was digging into his bicep and pinned them both above her head, holding her by her wrists with one hand. With the other, he pulled out the thong that was tugged inside his pocket and grinned naughtily.

“These…weren’t wet enough” he observed “Guess I’ve gotta be more thorough at my job”. He traced the outline of her lower lip with his thumb “Eyes on me, all right?”.

Freydis nodded, turning her face slightly to press her lips briefly against the rings around his fingers.

Slowly, he parted her skirt to the side by the opening that ran along her thigh. Freydis bit her lower lip and fought the urge to flutter her eyes close as she felt the soft fabric of her underwear against her skin. Sihtric was staring at her with that intensity that bore into her soul while he slowly started rubbing his fingers between her folds, the thong wrapped around them too. Freydis whimpered at the friction of the lace against her sensitive skin, her nails digging into the hand that was holding her wrists together. “Babe, I-Oh fuck, that feels good” she moaned.

“That’s a good girl” Sihtric praised her with a smirk “Hey, eyes on me, remember? There we go, so wet for me”.

“Mmmhm!” Freydis whimpered “Sihtric…”

“I know…I know…” he pulled his hand away, kissing her to muffle her protests as he tossed the underwear over his shoulder and this time simply started rubbing tight circles over her clit with his bare fingers.

Freydis cried out weakly “Yess” she hissed, as he slipped one finger, and then a second one inside her, starting to curl them inside her. Her hips started grinding against his hands, and this time she couldn’t help it, she closed her eyes. But Sihtric didn’t mind, he was too focused on pulling pleasure out of her while grinding his own crotch against her leg slowly, releasing small, quiet grunts.

“Let me touch you, babe” she whispered, tugging softly at her wrists “I bet that’s starting to feel painful”.

“I started to get hard when I noticed you’d left the stage” he confessed, chest heaving “I knew what you were doing”. Slowly, he let go of her hands, though not before taking them to his lips and placing butterfly kisses over each of her wrists.

It was Freydis’s turn to smirk wickedly, all though she did not keep the expression for long when Sihtric managed to squeeze a third finger inside her. Her back arched away from the wall, pressing her body against her boyfriend’s. “Ah!” she cried out weakly, resting her cheek against his shoulder “Gods...Keep going” she encouraged before dipping her own hand inside his pants and rubbing over his hard on. Sihtric growled and buckled against his hand.

“Fuck, Freydis”.

The air in the room had started to get heavy with their pants and moans that slowly increased in volume. Freydis could feel her walls started to contract on the verge of an orgasm, her cries becoming louder. Almost there…But before she had the chance to reach her orgasm, Sihtric pulled his fingers out, causing her to cry out at the lost of fullness and friction and glare at him furiously. Before she had the chance to protest, however, Sihtric kneeled in front of her. She swore each time he kneeled in front of her she got wet all over again, there was something so erotic about the way he stared up at her while he delicately picked up one of her ankles as if it was made of glass and slowly draped it over his shoulder before launching forward and closing his mouth over her flesh like a starving man.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Freydis whimpered hurriedly, her leg wrapping around his shoulders as if to pull him closer, her hand back on his hair as he pressed the flat of his tongue against her core and licked her from bottom to top before sucking on her clit. The woman tossed her head to the side, her breath becoming ragged and irregular, each one ending in a small whimper that slowly started to turn into a moan. Her boyfriend’s name rolled repeatedly from her lips like a prayer to the gods, like she had forgotten every other word she had ever spoken. Sihtric took his sweet time bringing her higher and higher, closer and closer to her release, and just when Freydis thought she couldn’t take it anymore, that she might actually pass out, his fingers joined his tongue, rubbing tight circles over her pussy and she came hard, a hoarse cry escaping her lips as Sihtric kept sucking, licking and kissing her all the way through her climax.

“Shit…You’re almost unfairly good at that, you know�� she managed to gasp when he finally got back on his feet, wrapping her arm behind his neck and pulling him close for a kiss, tasting herself on his lips.

Sihtric chuckled, licking his lips to savor the trace of her on them “I am, aren’t I?” he smirked in a rare display of cockiness, as he was usually rather shy. Except when he was with her.

Freydis raised an eyebrow “Cocky, aren’t we?” she observed, before looking into his eyes with a playful pout “How about you put your cock where your mouth was?”

Sihtric growled “You greedy little thing”.

There wasn’t any lead up this time, both already too impatient, too horny to keep waiting any longer. He didn’t even lower his pants all the way through, just enough to pull himself out. Sihtric’s hands settled on her ass and picked her up so she could wrap her legs around his wrist and then he simply slammed into her, hoarse groans escaping from both of them when they were finally joined.

He began to thrust into her, starting slow but eventually speeding up as he drove deep into her. Freydis rested her hands on his shoulders to support herself and helping him by moving her own hips in sync with his. One of Sihtric’s hands was cradling the back of her neck, the other curled into a fist against the wall just above her head. Freydis angled her head to kiss him, hot and desperate. They stayed with their mouths pressed together, her moans and his groans mixing together as slowly, the tension started to build inside them.

The small orgasm took Freydis almost by surprise, especially when she realized Sihtric wasn’t stopping, chasing after his own release. She cried out louder than before in both pleasure and shock, her walls clenching around him, which caused Sihtric to growl and bury his face into her neck while Freydis tried to recover, but her hips felt weak.

“Sihtric, I…” she warned, whimpering because she was suddenly oversensitive as her boyfriend kept driving into her.

“One more” he whispered into her ear “I know you’ve got one more in you” he cursed under his breath “Fuck, I’m almost there, baby. Just one more for me”.

“I…Oh gods, babe” it was too much, but her body was already building up for another orgasm, not the small shock of pleasure she’d just had, but a real, proper orgasm. And even though her entire body felt like it was on its last nerve, it just felt too good. She whimpered, curling around him as if she wanted to melt into him. “Hold my neck” she asked “And go harder”.

“Fuuuuuck” Sihtric groaned, his hand closing softly around her neck but without really cutting her breath, as he drove into her at a brutal pace.

They both came hard, calling out for each other, chests heaving, nails digging desperately into each other’s flesh. Sihtric sunk his teeth into her shoulder, hips lurching forward before going completely still. Freydis scratched her nails down his back, leaving a red trail over his skin. Her toes curled inside her boots and she felt a couple of tears on the corner of her eyes before her sweaty body finally collapsed against the wall, Sihtric’s against her as they both went through their high, shaking with little aftershocks. They were both gasping for air, still moaning and clinging desperately to each other.

A couple of minutes went by in which they simply stayed like that until their breaths somewhat calmed down and they were finally able to open their eyes and look at each other with loving puppy eyes.

“Hi” Sihtric whispered with a sweet, dopey smile on his face.

“Hi” Freydis whispered back, nuzzling the end of her nose softly against his.

Sihtric pecked her lips “Sorry I missed your show” he rested his sweaty forehead against hers and kissed her temple.

“That’s all right. You had to prepare for yours” she assured him, pushing away some strayed locks from his face. Truly, this part was as much her favorite as the actual sex. When they both came down from their high and immediately became the softest, weakest for each other and just wanted to stay as close as possible “Sorry I missed the finale”.

Sihtric shook his head “I prefer our finale anyways, with the cute face you make when you come and your tight little-Ow!” he chuckled when Freydis hit him playfully on the shaved side of his head.

“Arse” she giggled before pecking his lips fondly “I love you”.

“I love you too” he kissed her back, running a thumb over her cheek with absolute adoration. He still marveled at times, how he had found such an extraordinary love that seemed to be made just right for him. He’d been through some really fucked up stuff growing up. Life with her, however, gave him hope that he could actually break the cycle. “I wrote a new song, you know”.

Freydis gaped at him “Already? You guys just released an album!”

Sihtric shrugged “You know how inspiration works” he grinned before his face went back to its soft, loving expression and he kissed her again before adding “It’s for you”.

“For me?”

“All my songs are for you” he smiled “Wanna hear it?”

Freydis cupped his face and pressed a deep kiss over his mouth. “Always” she whispered against his lips “All though…Can I have my underwear back first?”

“No” Sihtric grinned, smirk full or mirth “I think I’ll be keeping these as a souvenir”.

“Again!? At this rate, I’ll have none left to wear!” she protested.

“Mmm…I rather like that thought”.

“Sihtric!”

“I’m joking” he laughed, finally pulling out of her with a quiet groan and fetching something so they could clean themselves up before he returned her panties.

In that very moment, someone banged a fist against the door, and then Finan’s voice followed through the wood “Oi! If ya two lovebirds are done fucking, we’re driving to the city for drinks!”

Freydis laughed “We’ll be out in a minute!” she raised her voice.

“Hurry up! I want to get drunk!”

“You always do” Sihtric replied, shaking his head before grabbing his jacket and starting to pack his things. Freydis stepped into the small bathroom stall to splash some water on her face and fix her hair, and when she came out, her boyfriend laced his fingers with her “Let’s go. I’ll show you the song later”.

Freydis stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek “What’s it about, anyways?”

Sihtric grinned down at her, wrapping his arms around her waist resting her forehead against hers “Well, if you must know, it’s about a guy asking his girl to marry him”.

[roug-3]

Here my request: Optimus Prime x Elita/Reader in a post-TLK scenario. Prime Will not come back ti Cybertron because he doesn't want abandon his love. IDW SFW or NSFW though. Wel... Whatever 😂😂😂

I will try my best and I don’t really do character x character so I’ll do character x reader , and I’m guessing this is a human S/o so I’ll do that to. Thank you for the request, if I don’t post this in time it’s because I’m getting on/off my bus. And I’m gonna make it Bayverse bc you didn’t say if it was tfp or bay.

Warnings: light sfw, small angst and fluff

Characters included : Optimus, hound and drift

Time ⏳

After saving the world it was a mess with broken bits of buildings, they got rid of quintessa and her minions the auto bots had a choice of leaving earth and going back to Cybertron but for Optimus and his human S/o it was hard to part ways. “Do you have to go Optimus, I still need you” you say crying while looking up at your giant robotic lover, Optimus gets on one knee and gently holds the back of your head “it’ll be hard but I promise to come back one day, until cybertron is alive again I promise to come back” Optimus says lifting your chin up and rubbing your cheek ever so lightly.

The world becoming quiet around you as hound and drift walked into the ship with the others leaving you and Optimus looking into each others eyes, as you look at him your eyes start to become watery agian and Optimus begins to feel guilty that he has to leave you. Your eyes drifting to the ground you wipe your nose and eyes sniffling as you lean your head against your lovers survo/hand. Optimus never thought about having to leave you just to save a planet, and he feels like he could do something about it but he can’t.

Optimus’s POV

I watch y/n feeling like something in me is wrong, I have to save cybertron because the other auto bots and I need a home but I can’t leave her, spending time with her here on earth has been the best part about protecting earth from the deceptions. I never got to fully admit how much I love her and the fact that she brings warmth to my spark as she lightly grazes her soft hand on my survo, I decided to gently pull her up into my survo and I bring her towards my chest as I say my goodbyes “I promise you that I’ll come back to you one day, always look at the stars and think about the time we spent together” Optimus says as he carefully rubs her waist, feeling a rush of warmth go over my body as this is the last time we’ll ever see each other for a long time.

Now that is the end and sorry if it’s short , but if you do want another part to this I’ll try my hardest to make it longer . I js had to leave a cliff hanger because not all sappy fics have a happy ending 🙃 , and I had to do it! But please let me know if I should make a part 2 to this and I just maybe might make it less sad but no promises 🤫

[deandoesthingstome]

@mayloma - This may be the oddest birthday celebration ever.

A) It's me giving, not receiving and B) It's not about HC.

But you made a comment and I have free time, so I'm going to try to gather up a few TLK posts and recs for you.

I'm not sure if you are looking for canon, AU's, fix-it, etc, or who your main blorbos are. If it's not apparent from anything you've seen on my dash, Finan has my heart with Sihtric in close second place. I never read the books, so all my knowledge comes from the show.

Because I'm not very active in TLK anymore, I don't really know who is still here, writing, etc. You know how it goes when fandom flames dwindle on one or the other side...

Under the cut to save those who aren't here for it.

Finan

You've already seen me rec where our pieces fall in place, (not that I'll pass up an opportunity to rec it again), but I'll also draw your attention to this sweet little number by @anotherwinchesterfangirl showing Finan falling for Ingrith: watch her take me by surprise Liz isn't around Tumblr much anymore at all, and her tastes skew away from TLK more often than not, but it's a nice little treat.

Need more Finan, but maybe with Eadith this time? @superprincesspea has Winchester's Finest (that he is), @emilyhufflepufftlk has all you had to do was stay, and Jade_Masquerade on AO3 has the alter is my hips (anyone recognize that phrase? yeah, it's so good).

Finan and Reader? @lady-writes20 has We Are Bound, @i-jus-wanna-writehappy has Handful.

Finan and OC? @lauwrite1225 gave us stuck between our heartbeats (Tumblr link to AO3) and @magravenwrites has A Good Place To Start, while @persephones-journey jumped him forward in time with As The Gods Make It.

Sihtric

Sihtic more to your liking? @solinarimoon fed that need for me with Liquid Courage and her Wildflowers Series

Back to Both I Guess?

I can't leave out this LOVE I left for some of the TLK crew last year.

And, last, but certainly not least, is @itbmojojoejo. Mojo is a little bit of a double threat because she is a GIF creator (and re-capturing ALL of Finan's scenes one episode at a time and I drown in drool a little bit every time she posts over on @mojosdumpingground) AND she has created this amazing and wonderful Mafia!AU with an OC in a bit of a love triangle with Finan and Sihtric and I'm really really really hoping the muse is waking up to help her finish this series: Crimes of Passion. I need to know who she ends up with!!!

Okay, like I said: Happy Birthday to me.

[thymelessink]

10 Characters From 10 Fandoms

Tagged by @walkwithursus (you're really providing me with these games XD)

Tagging: @a-n-n-i-m-i-a and @nanukanal and a whoever wants to do it!

Blackbeard (Our Flag Means Death): Well, we're hopefully still at the beginning of his journey, so...

The fact that he's a fearsome pirate who always longed to enjoy the soft things in life and fell in love with the rich man who showed him that it is okay to like soft and pretty things and then gave up everything to save that man? I mean come on, just thinking about it makes me want to hug him.

Scar (The Lion King): Okay, so...I don't like TLK. Not even as a child. I always thought the story is stupid (and yes, the whole Shakespeare subtext obviously went all over my head back then but as an adult it didn't make it any better for me) and I think I've only seen the movie fully once. But Scar, he's a different story. He's evil but he's eloquent, cunning and sarcastic. He makes the movie somewhat enjoyable and I don't care what he did, his death hurt me, even as a child.

The Joker (DC): Okay, I don't really know much about the DCU but Joker is a character I always come back to. No matter whether we're talking about Heath Ledger's Joker, Joaquin Phoenix' Joker, BTAS' Joker or Telltale's John Doe. He's so fucked up, but I love how many different sources give him a tragic backstory. And his absolute disregard for heteronormativity and his general queerness make him so interesting and I wish more people in the DCU would play with it and see the opportunity.

Gregory House (House, M.D.): I don't even remember how many years it's been since I watched House but that man stayed relevant throughout my life. And you're gonna see a pattern here when it comes to my favourite characters: He's harsh. He's sarcastic. He's an asshole. He says he doesn't care. But he does. He says he doesn't care if people leave him. But he does. He fakes his death to support his dying best friend. And I enjoy that he treats medical cases similar to how Holmes treats his cases. Obviously.

Marty McFly (Back to the Future): Of course, I like my 80s boy. Looks cute, street smart, is funny. He's a comfort character for sure. Also, if I had to name one character that evokes gender envy in me, he'd definitely number one.

Harry "Bunny" Manders (Raffles): The reverse Watson to the reverse Sherlock Holmes. He's adorkable, ends up as a criminal due to his own foolishness and Raffles' manipulation. He knows Raffles is sometimes annoyed with him, he wants to make himself useful but actually makes matters worse most of the time, but in an endearing way. He's incredibly loyal, will follow Raffles everywhere, even to war where he has to witness Raffles' death. It's basically a Sherlock Holmes AU but more gay because there's no way in hell Bunny doesn't love Raffles.

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad (Assassin's Creed): I was really thinking between him and Ezio because they both have amazing life stories. Assassin's Creed was probably the reason why I started playing more video games. If Altaïr's story wouldn't have been so interesting I wouldn't have stuck with it. Malik first making him see his wrongdoings, forgiving him later and becoming his best friend also plays a big part in the development of his character. But I love that they didn't make him perfect. In Revelation we see that he's still making stupid decisions that cost him dearly and he spent his life becoming a better person and a worthy mentor of the Brotherhood.

Sherlock Holmes: I mean what can I say...I don't even remember for how long I've loved Sherlock Holmes but there's a calmness in the face of danger about him that comforts me. He appears cold and calculating but he cares about the people around him. He also follows his own moral code, no matter what Scotland Yard expects of him. And he's my go-to character when I want to give a basic and famous example of asexuality to people.

The Doctor (Doctor Who): Do I have to decide for one? If so, I'd probably choose Nine. I only got into DW last year, although I always wanted to watch it because David Tennant was in it. Hilariously enough, it was Christopher Eccleston's Doctor who I became especially fond of. It's his harsh demeanor sometimes, a man who just came from war, but the joy he also displays sometimes (e.g. when everyone gets to live) and the way he, more than anyone else, needed a companion, Rose, made him very dear to me.

Tony Stark (Iron Man): Of course, who else. A man who was a weapons dealer and ended up giving up his life to restore half the universe. He has one of my favourite character growths. At no point is he perfect, he has weaknesses, he makes mistakes again and again and he knows that he seldom has the moral high ground. But he seems to love unconditionally. He forgives. And he gives life to beings that love him in return. He provides for the people he loves, deals with PTSD, makes the world a better place, all while keeping a smile on his face and having a smart remark in any situation.

[sapphic-woes]

Hi! Just wanted to say I really enjoyed part 2 of the tlk au and I hope you continue it because you're such a wonderful writer! Also I just got through season 3 and I can't believe they did that to Thyra she was such a sweetheart 😭

NO BECUASE LITERALLY WHY. IT SERVED NOTHING RLLY OTHER THAN SEEING BEOCCA THROW HANDS????

Ok. Deep breath. I am calm :) this was kinda mentioned in another ask I got today, but like, tlk is notoriously so bad with writing women it's insane. Like... Like it's not even the women themselves MOST of the time that are badly written (tho some lack substance tbh), it's just what happens around them or who interacts with em or if they. Yk. LIVE. ...okok imma go down the list I'm srry

Iseult: her death REALLY made no sense. Her character was interesting and even tho they had that classic "he's MY grubby good for nothing man" trope going on with Midrith (I dunno if that's her name, can't remember) her whole thing with seeing and saving Alfred's kid was like. Actually really good. And then to have her ask Uthred to essentially fuck the prophetic powers out of her only so that she can't see her death coming.....boo. boo she was so cool fuck uuuuu. But yk she was set up to fail from the start tbh

Hilde: I won't get into her but I'm thinking if you're at season 3 you must be starting to be like 👁️👄👁️. That feeling will continue they fail her high-key

Gisela: I HAVE NEVER SEEN. A DEATH MORE WORTHLESS. literally died OFF SCREEN TOO if I remember and like why. She was a good character that didn't REALLY drive the plot but she literally was just That Girl yk. Every line was iconic and awesome (also we get Uthreds iconic "now I will never be taken away from you" line which was!!!!!!!!) Also how did she move the plot along more with her death than when she was alive I mean. C'mon.

I won't talk abt brida :)

Stiorra: actually just brida-ed. You'll get what mean later.

Eadith: godsent. Perfection. She can do no wrong. Somehow she made it through amazing and iconic

Aelswith: ICONIC AMAZING. YOU HATE HER YOU LOVE HER. IN THE END YOU STILL TALK ABOUT HER. WISH I WAS HER. (SEASON 5 I THINK EP. 7?? THATS ALL I HAVE TO SAY.)

Skade:..... Imagine having an entrance like a god. And then being done so dirty. They way she was reduced to three men fighting over fucking her was like. When Uthred LITERALLY TEASES FUCKING HER THAT WAS IT FOR ME. NOT HIM BEING LIKE "YO DONT PROTEST BEING TRADED AND ILL COME BACK FOR U AND FUCK U :)" BITCH LICK HER FEET U GODDAMN– (fun fact I went thru my very first watch thinking everyone was better than Uthred. I still kinda do...other than Alfred lmao...also I still don't know how skade dies. I always skip thru somehow????)

Uhh I forgot how to spell her name, the lady of Mercia: I feel like she had the most character. Like everything that happened to her was iconic. I don't know why she loved Uthred tho. Like the romance was neat but like that guard dude was. There. Anyways won't say more but she and Erik for life.

I can't think of anyone else but as u can see I am very invested into tlk :)

[solinarimoon]

Little Sea - Part I

AN: This is my first time writing outside of The Last Kingdom fandom, but I originally joined tumblr to find Hvitserk content.  So I hope my writing for him does it justice.  This is for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie Congratulations on your milestone love!   This story is a Vikings/TLK crossover but Sihtric is basically placed into the Vikings universe.  I know in our heads these two belong in the same universe, so enjoy.  My prompt was a reimagining of The Little Mermaid fairytale. The story got too long so I am breaking it into two parts.  Sjór means sea in Old Norse, at least according to one website I found. I have more notes at the end of part two.

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love, suicidal imagery/implications, Vikings canon Ivar cruelty

My Masterlist

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

She swam, racing the currents in the sea.  The water’s hazy depths constantly shifted and mottled in a swirling dance.  Hues of blue and green mixed with inky darkness but faded to the rays of the sun’s light filtering through from the surface.  

The cold temperatures below the fathoms began to warm as Alba swam towards the surface.  Swishing her fins, she felt the drag of the water as she climbed higher until slowing and ultimately stopping herself just before breaching the surface.

His face stared down at her above the water.  His lips spoke words that she could not hear.  His face was calm and serene. Happy.

The only sound was the rushing tumult of waves breaking, crashing upon rocks at the base of a cliff.  

Alba flicked her tail trying in vain to break through the surface.  She wanted nothing more than to rise above the water and envelop Hvitserk in her arms.

The fear and the panic began to rise instead.  And without warning, Alba felt her terror intensify as her tail had been replaced with two legs.  Hvitserk’s face grew farther and farther away while she sank back below the dark depths.

~~~~~~~~

Alba woke with a start, sitting up in her bed and breathing heavily.  Her hands clung to the furs draped across her, pulling them aside to reveal two legs and feet.  The sight still seemed surreal to her. 

This was not the first night she had awoken from this dream.  It was occurring more and more often as she felt the pull to return to the sea.  Return home.  And as she watched Hvitserk continue to move further and further away from her.

Slowly, the young woman stood from her bed steadying herself as her legs wavered like someone returning to shore after living on a ship for weeks.  She draped a cowl of furs around herself and pushed aside the door leading from her small hut on to the beach.

Only a few paces brought Alba up to the water’s edge.  The waves lapped over her toes and Alba breathed easier.  Salty spray drifted across the cove where the waves were always harsh and ragged against the cliffs to the north.

Alba trained her eyes on the grey horizon, watching as the mist began to fade and the shadows melted away.  She breathed in the taste of the ocean’s air and for a moment felt content.

But that moment was broken when she noticed a set of forlorn footsteps approaching her.

“I knew you would be up and on the beach already.”

His voice was low and groggy as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders with a gentle squeeze.  Alba wondered if he had seen his own bed that night.  

“I wish I could help you find whatever you are looking for on the water, little Sjór.”

Alba turned her face ever so slightly to question him with a silent gaze.  And to see his braids looking disheveled. And a small bruise just under his jaw. 

“When we met, it was not unlike this,” Hvitserk paused when Alba turned her face towards him fully, furrowing her brow in confusion.  “I mean it was very different because I still have no idea how a half drowned young woman came to be lying between the rocks on the north edge of the cove, covered by nothing but a ragged boat sail,” his lips had pursed slightly trying to ward of the smirk Alba knew he was fighting.  Shuffling his feet in the sand and clearing his throat, he continued, “so it was different but you also still had that look I see so often. The one you had moments ago. Like you’ve lost something. And you’re waiting for it to return to you.”

Alba turned her eyes back to gaze across the water before dropping her face to the sand with a huff.  “Looking for your voice, perhaps?”

Alba looked up with her mouth dropped open in shock to see the young man grinning fully while she pushed him lightly away. Hvitserk let out a true laugh before wrapping his arm once more around Alba’s shoulder. Comfortable and brotherly. 

Scuffing a bare foot in the sand, Alba moved away from his side and began ambling down the beach knowing Hvitserk would follow. 

It was no use trying to hold that one sided conversation again. Part of the enchantment prevented her from revealing the truth about where she came from, about what she was…is…would be once more.  So even if they played a crude pantomime game, she still could not reveal if his guess were to be correct. 

Her time on land was almost spent. Her time with him would come to an end. Alba knew in her heart that Hvitserk was not in love with her.  And the binding nature of the enchantment would not bend. No matter how much love she felt for him. Or how much she had become endeared to him. That was not the problem. He did love her. But it was not true love. Not for him.  So she would return to the sea, but not today.

Alba sighed, straightened her shoulders and raised her head, breaking herself from her thoughts. 

She turned to look at Hvitserk walking alongside her, scuffing his boots beside her bare feet. Gently, Alba reached out her hand and tapped his neck where she’d noticed the small bruise. 

Hvitserk met her eyes with a mischievous smile. 

“Oh that, there? That is nothing, little Sjór.  Only a slight bite I received from one of the forest trolls while I was searching for mushrooms.” 

The pair laughed at his jest, her silently and him with gentle chuckles before he continued, sincerity beginning to lace its way into his words. 

“I was with Thora last night.”

Alba arched an eyebrow at him. 

“Yes, again.” Hvitserk chuckled lightheartedly. He missed Alba’s eyebrows relax and the smile on her face fall as she listened to him talk about the new woman.  

~~~~~~~~~~

Alba woke to the sound of rain pelting the thatch roof of her small cottage. Sleepily, she opened her eyes just as a streak of lightning illuminated the sky. She had seen the flash through the leaking cracks of her shutters. 

Several moments later the booming echo of Thor’s hammer against the clouds brought a slight curve to her mouth.  A rain storm was dangerous on the water. Perilous. But under the water, Alba and her sisters had been fond of watching the crash and roll of the tumultuous waves. The lightning scattering crystalline lights across the surface of the water. A beautiful orchestra of light and movement. 

A rain storm did not startle her. A rain storm felt like home.  Alba nestled further down into her furs, feeling their weight and warmth bringing her back to sleep. 

Except this thunderous booming continued on far longer than any true thunderclap. And it was now accompanied by a muffled voice. 

Hvitserk. 

No one else ever came to her door. Barely another soul knew she even existed or much less where she dwelled.

Alba opened the door to a torrent of rain blocked only by Hvitserk’s tall frame. 

For a moment, they stood staring at one another, the rain continuing to sleet down on them.

In the dark, Alba could barely make out the features of his face.  She searched his face, her eyes questioning.  But only for a moment before Alba grabbed his arm, ushering him inside and closing the door.  

In two strides, Alba moved across the room to gather up the furs from her bed and drape them across Hvitserk’s shoulders then settling him down on the short bench next to her cookfire.  Alba stoked up the flames from the low burning embers before turning on her knees to look at him. 

Beads of rainwater still tracked down the strands of his hair that had come free from his braids and he had made no move to wipe the dampness from his face.

He met her eyes as he spoke, “It’s Ivar,” he stated simply.

Alba shuffled closer to him and placed her hand on his arm, atop the furs.

“He is sending me as his messenger to King Olaf. In Norway,” Hvitserk paused to turn his head.  He clasped his hands together while bringing them up to rest against his mouth.  He was staring off towards the other side of the room.  His next words were muffled against his fist.

“I don’t know what my brother thinks he is going to do,” he chuckled then continued, “my brother the god king.”

Alba starred while Hvitserk worked through whatever thoughts were raging in his mind.  Increasingly in the past weeks, Hvitserk’s worry over his brother’s rule in Kattegat had grown.  Though he did not often openly criticize Ivar, it was clear to Alba that he carried many burdens for his younger brother. Burdens that left him questioning his path and his fate. And questioning the path his brother was forging.  

The young woman scooted herself closer to him and placed her palm against his cheek, lightly pulling his face back to meet hers. 

She saw the torment and frustration in his brow. It was mirrored on her own face.  She opened her mouth but could only huff and furrow her brow more. Sighing, Alba looked around the room, searching for everything and nothing before finally settling her eyes back onto him. 

“Even if you had words, little Sjór, there are none you could speak that would save me.”

At this, Alba felt her face shift from frustration to concern, her eyes frantically searching his face for more answers. 

“I must do as Ivar bids. And I leave you behind to deal with Ivar’s tyranny. His madness.” Hvitserk dropped his head into his hands, continuing to talk. His words came more easily now as his emotions boiled over. “And my love, Thora. I leave her behind but she does not have the anonymity you do to protect her. I fear for her. I fear what Ivar may do to her while I am away.”

Hvitserk hung his head and sighed heavily.  Alba felt her chest stutter as she realized she was holding back tears.  He truly did love Thora.  And Alba could not help herself from liking the young woman as well.  

Hvitserk had brought Thora to the beach to meet her one day.  And though it made her heart ache, Alba could not deny that she saw the love that was blooming there.  From the casual way that she saw their bodys lean into one another to the way Hvitserk watched Thora when she did not know he was watching.  While Alba was watching him.  That night, she had cried silent tears alone on the beach, while the ocean’s mist cried with her.  And the ache in her chest now was the same.

Trying her best to quell the sobs threatening to escape her lungs, Alba shifted herself once more to sit beside him on the bench.  Gently, she cradled him in her arms and stroked back the strands of his hair, now drying by the heat from the fire.  Hvitserk hugged her knees and closed his eyes for a moment, taking comfort from the care and love in Alba’s touch.  

“I will miss you while I am away.  I know you enjoy your solitude. But if you can, keep an eye out for my Thora. Ivar has made comments. Said things that make me fear she may be a target for his frustration.  She sees how dangerous Ivar has become. It threatens him.”

The more Hvitserk continued on, the more Alba’s heart continued to tear. Her prince's concern and worry was for another.  He was in love with another.  She let out a silent sob, but laying in her lap, Hvitserk felt the jolt of her body. The pain she could no longer hold back. 

Sitting up, he questioned, “What is it, Sjór?”

Alba closed her eyes and felt the tears cascade down her face as she shook her head.  

Hvitserk took her face in his hands, turning his body so that he straddled the bench. The furs around his shoulders dropped to the ground, forgotten.  

“Hey, hey look at me?”

Alba opened her eyes to see concern etched across his features.  Silently cursing her tears, she pushed his hands away and stood, wrapping her arms around herself and stepping away towards the door.  He was tormented enough and did not need to add her pain to his. A pain that she could not explain to him. 

“Sjór, I….” He started, standing to face her and grabbing her arms, firm but gentle.  His words fell silent as he watched the tears continue to track down her cheeks. 

Huffing in frustration, Alba wiped the tears away. The two stood silent except for Alba’s shaky breaths for several moments. 

Finally, Alba brought her fist up to thump against her chest. Over her heart. Gathering her courage, she took her fist, relaxing her fingers and placed her hand over Hvitserk’s own heart. And then brought her head to rest against her hand, feeling his breath and the questions in his stance. 

Taking a step back and removing her hand to wipe another stray tear, Alba met his eye. With more force she took her fist to thump against his chest. In the same spot, over his heart. 

Looking down to her hand, Alba tapped her fist against him once more then brought her hand up and pointed a single finger towards her window.  Towards Thora, towards his love. 

She watched as Hivitserk’s brow, a deep line of confusion, slowly relaxed.  A look of realization spread across his face. 

To then be replaced by something more unbearable. 

Pity. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Bare feet found their way along the soft mosses and lichen carpeting the ground up the paths surrounding the northern side of the cove.  Alba stepped slow and deliberate, feeling the air growing cooler.  The spray of the mist off the sea left salty pin pricks of water glistening across her bare arms.  

Low in the distance, the rumble of thunder rolled.  As she crested the height of the cliffs, Alba found the crash of the waves joining in the thrum of the oncoming storm.  The energy in the air was mounting.  Mirroring Alba’s rising anguish. 

Thora was dead.  A cruel and horrifying death.

Ivar was rampaging.  His madness was building and unstable.  

And Hvitserk.  Her sweet Hvitserk was gone.  If Ivar was to be believed...If what he said was true, he was lost.  Dead at the orders of King Olaf.

Alba fell to her knees at the cliff's edge.  Her hands gripped tight onto the sharp rock’s edge.  The rough surface painful and grating at the pads of her fingers.  She clung to the edge.  Her eyes staring down at the waves below.  The maelstrom of the waves calling to her.  To end her suffering.  End the anguish and pain.  

Alba stood, the wind whipping her dress as the rain began, drops gently splattering across the terrain.  The young woman looked up towards the clouds and closed her eyes, feeling tears spill over across her cheeks.  

Silently, Alba let the anguish wash over her.  Knowing he was lost.  And the sea was calling her to return.

Alba’s time on legs would soon be done.  She had not found her love returned.  And she could not stay.  The pull of the sea was calling to her stronger and stronger.  Her sisters called to her to return to them. 

Slowly, she dropped her face back down to the tumult below and took a step forward.

“Don’t!”

The voice stopped her movements.  The roll of thunder boomed again. Several tense moments passed before Alba heard the voice again.

“Please don’t.”

The voice was deep and soothing.  But Alba could sense something else behind the words.  Panic.  Desperation.

Weakly, she turned to face the nameless voice, her head turning back to look across her shoulder.  The rain was cascading in steady rivulets now.  Mingling with the tears staining Alba’s face.  Her dress had quickly become sodden and clung to her skin.

When her eyes came to the tree line, she saw him.

He was tall.  Dark.  His hair plastered to the sides of his face from the rain.  Hands raised to indicate he was no threat to her.

Slowly, tentatively the man stepped forward to stand beside her before he spoke again.

Alba’s eyes tracked his movements.  

When he was close enough to touch her, he spoke once more.

“Please.  Do not succumb to it.”

When Alba did nothing but stare, the man continued, “To your grief.  Please.”

It was the please that caught her.  The gentleness and the kindness in his eyes as he pleaded with her.

His arms caught her as she collapsed atop the cliff, allowing the despair to wash over her.

The man held her while she cried, silent sobs that shook her to her core.  Her fingers twisting and clinging to the folds of his shirt.  His arms steady and firm around her shoulders as he cradled her. He held her until she stilled while the rains continued their lament.  And when she was half asleep, ruined with exhaustion he carried her back down the path.  

He settled her down underneath his own roof, beside a comfortable fire to dry her clothes and hair.

The man handed her a small bowl full of warm broth.  

“Go ahead,” he coaxed, “you must get dry and eat.  You do not want to catch cold. And then you should sleep.”

When Alba stared at him questioningly, he added, “You have nothing to fear from me. I am called Sihtric.”

~~~~~~~~~~~ To be continued in part II

Tagging my usuals.  Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my taglist.

Tags: @maggiescarborough @pokeasleepingsmaug @nxrdist @mystic-shadows42 @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @lauwrite1225 @morosemagick @thebohemianpenguin @mrsalwayswrite @notyourwildestdream @obipoelover-deactivated20210806 @ecarroll1978 @93xdiagonxalley @nobodys-business-world @evelynshelby @trenko-heart @0hsappho

[elocinmaen]

TLK Season 1 - It’s Good

(Spoilers ahead!)

My mum introduced me to The Last Kingdom in 2021. I was late to the club, but I fell in love quickly. Season 1 was an awesome introduction to my now favourite series out there. Let me explain why.

The first two episodes of this season had me hooked. It was a questionable choice to rush through Uhtred’s childhood with the Danes (which was a rather large section in the first book of the TLK series). I still fell in love with the family though. I can’t picture anyone else as Uhtred, nor Brida. Emily Cox and Alexander Dreymon have undeniably chemistry, although I definitely would say they make better friends than lovers. 

Alfred is probably one of the things that I was most pleasantly surprised by. David Dawson is... incredible. He brings such a quiet intensity to the character. I will have more to say about him when I talk about later seasons. Only good things. 

The story of season 1 flows well. It is well paced, mostly. It’s bingeworthy, yet every episode can be enjoyed as a single one. Travels to Cornwalum and Cynuit felt more like side quests than actual plot drivers. Perhaps that’s just me.

There are some characters which feel unnecessary (*cough* Wulfhere *cough*), some which I think deserve more screen time. Aethelwold is a slimy piece of shit but his character is so well done. It’s made clear he’s not meant to be liked, and it works. I don’t like his character, but I do enjoy his character.

I don’t want to say this is a huge downfall of the season, because it is truly fantastic. However, I feel like Iseult’s storyline was kind of rushed. Of course, they have to have limitations on screen compared to the pages of a book. I just didn’t connect that well with her character. 

I hate to say it but I didn’t really like Hild either. In later seasons, I grow to like her, but in season 1 she is just kind of useless? Save for the scene where she comforts Lady Aelswith, she just kind of is there without doing anything of value. 

Leofric, however... Man did his death hit me hard. Leofric was a character that is a great right hand man to Uhtred, while also being a warrior in his own right. He doesn’t blindly follow him, and doesn’t treat him with immediate respect. Uhtred is not his lord he is his friend. We don’t learn much about him, yet he is so likeable. I loved him, and it was a shame to see him go. 

What a good opener this season is to the series. As a huge history nerd, I find it difficult to watch a lot of historic dramas (for a lot of reasons), but TLK is one of the few that I an enjoy unconditionally. 

[curlewsteph]

COVID THERAPY VIEWING

It’s been a year indeed and a struggle, but when I’ve needed an escape I’ve found solace in some brilliant tv series this year that I want to take a moment to remember. Immersing myself in characters, online discussion, podcasts and more, has kept me going and allowed me to block out everything that 2020 has been when I’ve needed to. This is my first and possibly only Tumblr post but here, the place where I’ve found so much great conversation, fan fic, gif sets and more to add to my enjoyment of my favourite things to watch, seems the best place to leave my own thoughts. So here goes from the year’s beginning to its welcome ending:

TURN - Washington’s Spies

I’ve got a thing for moody Jamie Bell (The Eagle 😍) and discovered TURN last New Year looking for other historical dramas he’d appeared in. These characters completely captured me and drew me into a historical period I’d done my best to avoid since flunking it during A Level history. Abe made quite the most useless spy but his passion and compassion sold him to me. The Culper Ring story is fascinating and the show brought to life the real lives and conflicts of those involved. Intriguing portrayals of morally corrupt characters (Simcoe, Andre etc) who surprise you at every turn kept me gripped and props to some extremely fine acting and characterisation. The found family dynamic of the Culper Ring was a real joy and Brewster will forever be one of my most favourite characters. I wanted more personal development and not really being able to ship Abe with anyone especially was a let down but it was a fine series that really kept me company.

PEAKY BLINDERS

I’ve no idea why it took me so incredibly long to watch this series but having eventually succumbed I was hooked from the very first episode. Brooding, oppressive, threatening yet full of charm and humour with characters that jump out of the screen and take your heart without asking, made it addictive viewing for me this year. The next series is light years away but I’m waiting for you Tommy.

THE 100

Thank all the stars that we had good weather during lockdown because the final series of this post-apocalyptic drama almost ruined my summer. I’ve followed every twist and turn over the past six years, had my Bellarke heart broken time over time, shared the pain and angst of an array of brilliant characters and watched through my fingers when the creators treated legions of fans of all factions, worse than mortal enemies. But the end was coming and I stuck with it - despite my misgivings since the overturning of the Writers Room - buoyed by some hopeful S6 content, but I should have listened harder to my guts. Despite some flickers of promise in S6, it was beyond clear to me that the new writing team simply didn’t have the same connection to the characters and history of the show. Instead of wanting to resolve arcs and reunite characters we’d become inexorably entwined with, the lure of the new and an opportunity to reinvent and take a detour sparkled more brightly to them - something I will never ever be able to fathom. Fans forgotten, long running storylines dropped and characters - including our leads - essentially abandoned and made for a horror show of a final act. S7 broke my heart and I should have seen it coming. When I’ll feel ready to rewatch The 100 again I don’t know, but I’ll end my run when the show should have at the S5 finale and save the CPR scene for an occasional treat. Farewell and May We Meet Again.

THE MUSKETEERS

Salvation comes in leather and 18thC lace. I ADORED this so much! Again I was incredibly late to the party because it seemed such a frivolous show but a Youtube fan vid drew me in and I’m so thankful for it. The plots are mostly light but tackle some important issues, the tension is chest heavingly dramatic and everyone looks astonishing and oh my was this the antidote to an anti-climactic apocalyptic obsession that I needed. There’s humour, kindness, compassion, daring do and a huge dollop of care and an emphasis on the value of friendship too. Clever dialogue, confident female characters, wry humour and some seriously good acting healed my heart. And yes the outfits helped. I loved it all and was transfixed by Tom Burke’s Athos.

STRIKE

...which led me to Strike. I don’t do whodunnits and crime fiction as a rule is just not my thing, usually because the core cast is always too small and I miss the found-family dynamic and they often feel claustrophobic, plus the predictable focus on difficult but supposedly fascinating men in the lead can be dull. In some regards, Strike is no different but Tom Burke’s performance and more significantly Holiday Grainger’s skill in playing Robin and how she transforms the usual “gritty detective with attractive sidekick” dynamic on its head, is really superb. I’ve read the books now too - my first JKRs. Honestly, parts are overwritten and a little indulgent but elements are breathtaking and as she’s so involved in the series too it’s a tie up I became incredibly invested in and the actors on screen are the characters on the page for me too. One does not lose out to the other, which is often the case with dramatisations. I can’t wait for the next instalment.

THE LAST KINGDOM

#TeamUhtred #TeamUhtred #TeamUhtred that’s it, that’s all there is to say, although it’s not obviously. TLK has been a slow burn for me and I began it several times when it was first aired by the BBC. The early series felt small, focussed on a pretty hateful hero who I failed to connect with, but I loved Aethelflaed and her story with Erik and Uhtred’s growing maturity was intriguing too. And then Netflix came in and the show exploded! Better scripts, more than the same 3 locations, impressive costumes and set-piece battles with characters that grew and grew. I rewatched S3 in preparation for S4’s release which I binged in style in lockdown 1 and cried when it ended. Utterly brilliant and a cast of characters that came closest to replicating the joy of my first fandom experience with the outlaws of Robin of Sherwood. Uthred has become a leader, has had to reckon with his responsibilities and shows a tenderness as he’s aged that the young callous warrior lacked. But if it weren’t for his bunch of faithful arselings I wouldn’t be watching at all. Without Finan there is no TLK for me. He’s my favourite character to have emerged in years. It’s the humour, the humanity of him that makes me cheer for him every time - as well as the arms 😍 Long live TLK. Or a final season at least.

VIKINGS (*spoilers for S6b)

2020 ended another long standing favourite series that I’ve followed for years. Unlike The 100 I’m not as deeply invested in this saga but Vikings has kept me company for so long now that the show feels part of me. It’s certainly lost it’s way over time but my favourite characters still shone brightly and those we lost were sent off triumphantly. I’ll forever miss Ragnar and the show lost a lot of its appeal with his passing, but the homage paid to such a talisman of a character was always done well. Later series did feel repetitive and the drama between the Ragnarsson brothers diluted. But Ubbe - my love - stayed true and the ending for him and Hvitserk (I always felt so heart sick for him) both felt fitting. And Bjorn’s final climax was awe inspiring (I do wish the tomb had stayed closed though). I’d have absolutely loved more time to have been spent on Ubbe’s future adventures instead of the endless hours in barren wastelands and storm lashed ships, but what we got was good. As for Ivar... an utterly unforgettable character (performed superbly) who became human again was a journey to behold. I’m glad it went that way but honestly I lost touch with him with all the time spent on the Rus storyline that repeatedly ate its own tail. Getting back to Wessex brought the show full circle and I loved it for that. Farewell Vikings. I hope Ubbe and Torvi are still doing ok in their new Valhalla.

[enixamyram]

I think I need to help some people understand Rogers, his relationship with his daughter and exactly how his poison heart actually worked. Because I've seen a lot of people (you know the lot) spreading misinformation to others, which isn't a surprise since they openly admit to not paying any attention to most of Season 7 and only actually watch the scenes that they personally like and accept.

Let’s start with Rogers motive for trading places with Original Killian in Episode 2:

Actions speak louder than words. Rogers did indeed, brag to Killian that his plan to was to steal Emma and he mentioned to Tremaine that he had left Killian to die (of thirst) so that he could take his place. However, for all he talked about doing this, all Rogers really did was knock Killian unconscious and leave him untied on the middle of an open cart in the middle of an open street where anyone could have found and help him. Or where he could have recovered in his own time and then given chase (you know, like he literally did!). There is absolutely no way this could have been a murder attempt. He clearly was a guy who was just talking big to seem more intimidating and just needed Killian temporarily out of the way in order to get True Loves Kiss from Emma to cure his heart.

Why he only started searching for Alice after his meeting with Killian and Emma:

He was a miserably depressed wreck. Right up until he met Killian and Emma. It was only after Emma gave him a second chance by saving his life, and also gave him her own little hope speech, that Rogers was able to pull himself out of his depression. Emma’s kind words gave him the inspiration and the strength to put himself together and continue his search for Alice once again.

Why did Rogers stay away from Alice and not just stay on the other side of the room:

Because that wouldn't have worked. We see many instances where even being in the same room as Alice causes him a great deal of pain and physically pushes them apart. It wasn't a case of touching Alice made his heart weaken. It affected him when she was so much as even near him (as Gothel herself says when she’s explaining it to them right after she originally poisoned him). Being across the room from her would literally just mean that a child Alice gets the utter horror of watching her father slowly die while in constant and steadily growing agony.

Why he didn’t die by her side anyway so as not to leave her alone for so many years:

Because after he was dead, Alice would still be trapped in the tower. Oh and THAT WOULD BE A BLOODY MESSED UP AND TRAUMATIC THING TO DO TO YOUR OWN DAUGHTER!

Why did he just run off to get drunk:

At first, he didn't. Rogers spent many years searching for a cure for his heart as well as a way to get Alice out of the tower. It was only after years and years of failing that he became depressed and let his depression get the better of him. Now I can somewhat understand why some people might still dislike him for this. (Though it does bring up the question on how sympathetic they are to people with depression...) However that still doesn't mean he just shrugged and went drinking the moment he was poisoned like some claim. 

Why didn't he visit her:

Because the poison would still have eventually killed him. The way the poison works is that it gradually made Hook's heart weaker.

Just so we're clear: Rogers heart didn't weaken when Alice was around and then strengthen back up once she was gone again. What the poison did was steadily make his heart weaker after every encounter they had. The pain he received may have eased over time but the damage it did to his heart did not. It stayed with him and eventually his heart was simply going to be weakened too many times and it would just have given out and he would have been killed.

You know, like it was doing in the same scene where Rogers is far away from Alice and with Robin instead. He's still dying and struggling so much that he can't even stand straight for long periods of time. Because his heart has taken so much damage from just being near Alice that he is literally dying (albeit slowly) in this moment. 

Why he didn’t use True Loves Kiss with his daughter:

He couldn't get near Alice. Every step towards her was causing him utter agony and began killing him! When they did, somehow, manage to rush a hug - they barely had a chance to fully touch one another when the poison quite literally propelled Rogers away from her.

Why Alice didn’t have True Loves Kiss with Robin:

Because Alice wasn't the one poisoned. Rogers was. That's why he was the one who needed TLK. (Emma kissing David while Snow was under the sleeping curse wouldn't have woken Snow either.) 

Why Rogers didn’t send Smee or someone else to look after Alice for him:

This was never canonly stated but I feel like there are a lot of reasons as to why Rogers never got help. The most obvious being that he had no idea where Smee and the crew were (they were sailing the seas somewhere and Rogers no longer had a ship to chase them). However I also always thought that Rogers knew no one would do it. Smee was willing to take his ship because Smee (as well as the rest of his crew) are pirates! They want to sail seas and be free. Smee respected Rogers as his captain, sure, but not enough to give up his entire life to babysit for him. Not to mention that pretty much all of Rogers' crew actually gave up their loyalty to him in favour of Blackbeard anyway. Because. Again. They're PIRATES! Aka, BAD SEA PEOPLE!

Otherwise I believe that Rogers didn't trust anyone to watch Alice. And honestly, why would he? He's been tricked twice by Gothel now, so I imagine he knew he couldn't find anyone else because (apart from just generally not knowing anyone else who could) he also couldn't trust they that were genuine and not another Gothel scheme in disguise.

So in summary: Rogers was not an evil man. He wasn't trying to steal Emma or kill Killian. He didn't abandon Alice the moment he was poisoned. He couldn't have ignored his poison or worked around it.

He's not a perfect guy, but he's not a terrible father, either.

[nxrdist]

𝕺𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕷𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑𝖙𝖞||TLK Fic|| FinanxOC||One

AN: So here’s the first proper installment! :D Enjoy some cookham squad banter in this one

||Masterlist||

Summary: Tove chose to surrender rather than be killed, after Sigfried was defeated at Beamfleot, giving herself up to the mercy of the Saxons. Thanks to Finan’s intervention, her life is indeed spared and she is brought into Uhtred’s service. With the sting of defeat fresh on her tongue and her new life fighting for the Saxons secured; Tove is left wondering what tricks the Gods have in store for her next.

Words: 2080

-----

Swearing her oath to Uhtred was a more straightforward decision than swearing to had been Njal. It had not been said, but Tove had felt reasonably sure of them. Swear or die. Perhaps there had been another had she not sworn, but Tove did not dwell on that possibility. The choice had been made.  Upon doing so, her bonds were cut, and she was brought to a healer -just like that.

They stayed at the battle site for two days while the less wounded were dealt with. Those having sustained more grievous injuries were deemed unfit to travel and would be left behind. The rest of them would return to Winchester. Tove suffered several injuries in the battle, which mostly amounted to some abrasions and bruises though the healer had looked worried at the sight of her black and blue ribs. Despite their concern, she had brushed it off with a declaration she would be sufficient to travel. So, on the day of departure, she took to the road with her new Lord.

As they traveled, there was quite a bit of gossip going around, and quickly Tove learned that half the reason for the battle was due to one man: Odda, the Elder who was a West Saxon Alderman now to be tried for treason. A strange thank you, she thought, considering the overwhelming victory his early march had granted the Saxons. The men explained that Odda had marched to Beamfleot against their King’s orders, for which the Alderman would likely die. Tove had frowned at this lackluster explanation and glanced up toward where the King rode at the front. She had yet to see him up close but could pick him out, even among the sea of mail and armor, by the crown atop his head.  Saxons were strange, she thought.

It turned out the journey to Winchester would be several days long. Lord Uhtred rode with them some of the time, but others he was summoned up to the front of their column -to his King’s side. She did not envy him. What kind of company could such a man be? Tove imagined a stuffy and severe creature with little capacity for laughter. In part, she was thankful for Uhtred’s preoccupation as it allowed her to become more acquainted with her new comrades.

“So Lady,” began the old priest Beocca.

“I am no Lady,” Tove cut in. “You may call me Tove.”

“Tove.” Beocca began again looking a tad put out. “Finan tells us you are recently arrived from Denmark? My wife Thyra is Danish as well.”

“A priest is married to a pagan?” Tove asked, somewhat confused.

Beocca chuckled. “No. She is saved and has found our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Tove frowned. “And…forsaken the Old Gods?”

“There is only one God, my child,” Beocca responded kindly.

“Beocca, surely ya needn’t be tryin to convert the Lady already,” Finan put in.

Though, Tove noted the cross that hung around the Irishman’s neck despite his feeble defense of her beliefs. She raised a hand to finger the hammer hanging around her own. It was said that Lord Uhtred was a pagan as well; Tove found it curious he surrounded himself with these Christians. Their God was angry and she did not understand him. However, he did seem to protect his followers when they most needed it, allowing the Saxons to keep the majority of their lands from Danish hands.

Silence hung in the air for a few moments, but Beocca no longer seemed interested in questioning Tove after Finan's interruption. She sent a small smile of thanks his way, which was returned with a cheeky grin.

“Don’t ya be worrying about the father or baby monk lass.”

Finan had brought his horse up to ride alongside her. As opposed to the priest, she would take his company any day; the Irishman exuded a cheerful sense of ease that Tove appreciated. It was even better that he seemed to have taken it upon himself to ensure she felt welcome.

“I find these Saxons quite odd,” Tove said finally then, dropping her voice added. “And their nailed God.”

“The Saxons aren’t so bad.” Finan chuckled. “You’ll fit right in with the Lord Uhtred and Sihtric here. They both share yer faith.”

Her grey eyes moved to the young Dane who rode along with them. They had met the previous day seated around a fire in the evening; she had spoken with him a little then but had almost forgotten him due to his prolonged silence. His father was a cruel Jarl who had killed Uhtred's adopted father and had whelped him as a bastard on a Saxon woman. Sihtric had not indicated what his faith was to her but had told her of his Christian wife, who waited in Winchester.

“They grow on you.” Sihtric put in. “And Uhtred’ll not ask for your conversion.”

“That is a relief,” Tove said.

The rest of the day was spent in companionable silence or idle chatter. Though Tove was not always entirely able to keep up with the conversation. She spent most of her time just listening; occasionally, Sihtric would translate things for her which was kind of him. Tove could not decide what she really felt about the group; they were sort of a band of misfits, it seemed -monk, an Irishman, a half Dane, a priest, and a Saxon born Dane as their Lord. And all of them serving the will of a Christian King in Wessex. Well, she supposed she was one of them now and would be doing his will now by proxy of the Lord Uhtred. She gave a sigh at the thought. There would be no swift return home with riches nor tales of adventure in her future. How quickly things can change.

When evening came, and they made camp along a stream. There were no tents, but they made a campfire which Tove aided in the building of. As was becoming a trend, they were all quite accomodating with her willingly sharing their rations, and someone fetched a spare bedroll for her. Overall, despite her reserved judgment on them, they seemed to wholly have adopted her into their ranks without much question. They trusted their Lord’s judgment unwaveringly.

With the fire crackling and the stars above, Tove thought she ought to have been able to fall asleep quickly, but it did not come. Eventually, she gave up on attempting to sleep. Hauling herself from her bedroll, Tove moved silently to take a seat on a log that had been dragged in front of the fire for a seat. Blankly she gazed into the fire, ignoring the figure seated across from her; setting a watch had made Tove scoff in amusement. To think her countrymen stupid enough to launch an attack after such a recent defeat? Inane.

Night sounds made nice background noise for a time as Tove fidgeted idly with dirt under her nails, but it was interrupted by a sigh that came from the figure across the fire. Sihtric was partially visible through the flicker of the flames. He had just given a great stretch and let the aforementioned sigh at its completion. When she looked up, Tove met his eyes.

“Trouble sleeping?” He asked in English.

Tove gave a short nod in response but said nothing. She wondered why he didn’t speak to her in Danish. When the others were around, English was the logical choice, but it was only the two of them.

“No one will come,” Tove stated in Danish when Sihtric did nothing to continue the conversation.

“Better not to chance it, though, wouldn’t you think?” He replied still in English, causing Tove to sigh.

“I suppose,” Tove conceded, though she still very much doubted there was anything to watch for.

“How are your injuries?” Shitric asked.

Touching her side lightly, Tove gave a slight grimace. There was a mild cut to her left shoulder where a blade had glanced off her, some scrapes on her face from being tossed to the ground, but the worst of it was the bruising on the left side of her rib cage. Everything had been so disorganized after the fire in the fort. At the surprising sight of the Saxon army, they hadn’t even been able to form up a cohesive shield wall in time to confront them. Much of the fighting had been chaos, and in an effort to protect her Lord from Finan's killing blow, Tove had launched herself towards them taking the Irishman's shield to her left side. The healer who'd examined her had only been confident the bones were not broken and said it would challenging to decern whether the ribs were simply bruised or possibly cracked.

Taking her hand away, Tove said, “I will live. I have had worse in the past. A shieldmaiden must be able to bear the same pains as a man.”

Sihtric gave a dubious nod. “Perhaps my wife will be able to give you a salve for it when we reach Winchester. Beocca's wife, Thyra, has been teaching her some healing.”

“I would be grateful,” said Tove.

They lapsed into silence again, listening to the crackling of the fire and sounds of the night around them.

“Have you any family?” Sihtric asked in Danish this time.

Somewhat taken off guard, Tove still smiled at the question.

“I do. A brother and two sisters,” she said airily as she thought of them. “Kåre, my twin, is an oaf of a man, though his wife Inga is sweet and too good for him; they adore each other. She was with child when I left. It may even be born by now. There are also my two young sisters Astrid and Sigrid…neither of which have a taste for battle. They are too gentle for this world. Though Sigrid’s head is full of hot air.”

Sihtric smiled at her descriptions.

“And Kåre stayed to see his child come into the world?” he asked.

“He did. Inga told him he need not if he wished to join me, but perhaps it is best that he did,” Tove replied.

Sihtric hummed absently in reply, his eyes on something behind her. “Perhaps.”

A sudden presence beside her caused Tove to jump a little. Finan had all but appeared out of the darkness to take the seat next to her. His steps so soundless she hardly could have heard him had she been paying attention, even in the stillness.

“Evenin’ kiddies!” Finan said merrily.

Tove looked at him, stunned.

“He does that,” said Sihtric inclining his head in Finan’s direction. Though, he was smirking at Tove’s shock.

“Oi, don’t ya be tellin secrets, Shitric,” Finan chortled, plopping down.

“It is a secret that you smell worse than a dwarf’s backside?” Sihtric responded, switching back to English without missing a beat.

“Ah, but did ya know that Sihtric had to wash himself -what was it five times? - before his wife would take him to bed on the night they wed?” Finan half-whispered conspiratorily to Tove.

Sihtric chucked a stale scrap of bread across the fire at Finan’s head, which he dodged easily with a wicked smirk on his lips.

“And even then, poor Ealhswith was overcome by yer stench was she not!”

“What of the whores in Winchester? They’ll not even see you fo-“ Sihtirc was cut off by Finan.

“Because they are far too heartbroken when I leave.”

By then, Tove was laughing lightly at their banter and the sense of familiarity it filled her with. It was not at all different than the usual talk of her former comrades. Men were the same everywhere she supposed and that fact made her smile. Sihtric simply gave a dramatic huff and rolled his eyes. He muttered a curse in Danish so low that neither of them could hear the words correctly.

“Yes, of course, it is,” Sihtric said in English with a slight shake of his head before turning to Tove. “Sorry, my friend, I must leave you with this imp as I am in much need of sleep.”

She waved him goodnight before he disappeared out of sight. Still chuckling, Finan slung an arm around Tove’s shoulder. Turning to him, she arched an eyebrow.

“I was not aware t’was an imp that spared my life upon the battlefield,” she teased.

“Nah, don’ listen to that fool,” Finan laughed. “He is only sore for not having gotten his beauty rest.”

Tove snorted.

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: “Find My Way Back to You”

(I started this one shot before the episode "A Wondrous Place" aired, and therefore it picks up right where "Page 23" (6x14) ended. It allows for Snow to do more what I would have loved to have seen from her in 6x15 – encourage Emma that there is no way her True Love would leave her, and take action to help her daughter find out what is wrong. In general, I wanted the Charmings to be more concerned about Killian and know that his just vanishing after a fight didn't add up, so I wrote it. Also, my first thought at Gideon not wanting Killian around was that he had a curse planned for Emma. I still wanted them have an actual, magical whoosh of air, rainbow-tinged TLK as well, so needless to say, this is what happened in response to all of that going on in my mind. When I saw the post about reviving Self-Promo Sunday going around, I went back through my old stories, looking for one I hadn’t enjoyed in a while or that I thought folks might have missed, and this is the one that grabbed me. Hope you enjoy and I’d love to know what you think!)

“Find My Way Back to You”

By: @snowbellewells (or TutorGirlml on ff.net)

Three a.m. and still no sign of her pirate. Their huge two story house feels as cold and empty in the silent dark of late night turned early morning as it had during those nightmarish days when she had ensconced herself in it as the Dark One in her solitary lair. Just as those ghastly memories have begun to vanish for good, the foreboding tendrils wind their way back in Killian's absence. She did this; her eyes close as she once more stares out the window into the dark, deserted yard, forehead resting against the frigid glass, chilling her skin along with the cold she feels spreading through her chest. Unbidden, Killian's pointed, angry words as the Dark One himself ring in her mind – cutting like tiny knives – "you push away anyone who gets close to you…that's why you'll always be an orphan…"

Knowing now that he does not truly feel that way, that he hates she had ever heard those words from his lips, does little to comfort her alone in the still watch of the night. The remembrance of cold winter nights curled up together under heaps of cozy blankets as he whispered and kissed the very opposite into her skin – how bloody brilliant she is, how she is his match, his other half, how they will always have each other and never be alone again, how he will never leave her – is cold comfort now that she fears she has driven him away.

Listlessness overtakes the Savior as she paces a sleepless route from window to sink to the living room couch and back again, peace and rest as far from her as they have ever been. At last, she curls into the oversized armchair in the corner, the one which has become Killian's favorite place to read the piles of books that both Belle and Henry recommend and loan him, her eyes glazing over until she barely notices the dark lightening to grey, then streaking the sky with pinks and golds as the sun rises again. The new day dawns with her True Love missing, and though she still believes in him and clings to her faith that he wouldn't desert her, he isn't here. She had been justified in what she'd said to him – he does have to trust her, just as she must have faith in him – but the fact that he is out there alone somewhere hurting and drowning in self-hatred, that he didn't feel welcome in their home, makes the words, warranted or not, feel hollow.

When the door creaks open and her mother enters, there to pick Emma up for their near-weekly breakfast at Granny's, Emma barely flinches or even looks up at Snow's chipper greeting. It doesn't take long for her mother to gather that something isn't right when Emma gives no answer, and when she rounds the corner into the living room to find her grown daughter curled up as small as she can make herself in the chair, arms around her legs and chin resting on her knees, Snow's happily excited face falls rapidly.

She comes to kneel in front of her child, resting her hands over Emma's clenched ones soothingly, and looking up into her blank, unfocused face. "Honey?... Emma?" She chafes her hands up and down her daughter's forearms until Emma finally startles slightly and seems to register her mother's presence. "What is it? Are you alright? …Where's Killian?"

It is this last question which finally seems to snap her daughter back into the present, and as she turns to really focus on Snow, her stoic façade truly crumbles. Shaking her head, she finally clasps her mother's hand in return, and whispers in as fragile a voice as her mother has ever heard her use, "I don't know, Mom… I don't know."

"Well, come then," Snow soothes, pulling Emma to her in a hug, and holding her as she rocks back and forth slightly, comforting her princess as she aches to have done all those missed years Emma had been growing up. When she sits back slightly, gently brushing back the loose strands of hair that have escaped Emma's braid with maternal tenderness, "We need to go find him," she urges. "The way that man loves you? Whatever happened with the two of you, you'll work it out. He's probably on his way to you as we speak."

Emma knows her mother doesn't have the whole story, but despite all that, Snow's patent hope and optimism bolster her spirits enough to urge her to her feet as her mother pulls her up and for her to soon be leading the way down to the docks in search of her pirate.

So it is a sleep-deprived, fuzzy and anxiety-distracted version of herself who stands on the wooden planks, frozen in unprepared surprise and vulnerability when Gideon materializes behind them, malicious grin on his face and a taunt on his cruelly curved lips. "Looking for someone, 'Savior'?"

Emma scowls, feeling the heat in her blood rising angrily at the look on his face – just knowing without a doubt that this freak has done something to keep Killian from her, to keep him from coming back home. "You know that I am. What have you done with him?" she growls.

"Nothing really," Gideon shrugs nonchalantly, gloating at his power over the situation, much in the way his father always has. "He'll be quite alright, I'm sure. He's just several thousand leagues under the sea – well away from here and unable to disrupt my plans."

"Your plans?!" Emma spits. "Just what are you planning anyway, you sick little – "

But before she can finish, Gideon flings out a glowing hand, magic shooting toward her from it at top speed. Emma is quick and reacts to throw up a defensive shield, but not quick enough. She has been fighting nonstop for so long, one villain, realm, and catastrophe after another, to save everyone but herself, and she is just too tired. Her sleepless night, distress, and the lackluster concern for her own safety all work against her to let Gideon gain the edge, and she freezes for a second as what he has thrown at her makes impact. Then, her eyes glass over, fall closed, and she crumples senseless to the wooden surface of the pier.

Snow is stock-still and speechless at her side, too shocked to move at their robed attacker's sudden appearance, until Emma falls. On her knees beside her daughter instantly, a cry of distress escapes the Enchanted Forest's monarch as she shakes Emma's shoulder in futile hope of rousing her.

"That won't work," Gideon intones confidently as he watches her efforts. "You of all people ought to recognize the spell, Snow White. But I've tweaked it a bit for my own purposes. Take it from someone who – like your daughter – grew up painfully without a mother, whatever the reasons, I'm not sure you could waken her, even without my refinements. All the same, I've guarded against it, just in case. You will keep her safe though, until I decide what to do with her, won't you?" And with a sickeningly self-satisfied smile, he vanishes in a red column of magical smoke.

~ CS ~ CS ~ CS ~

Killian Jones is beside himself as the Nautilus finally resurfaces in Storybrooke's harbor once more. If it weren't for Nemo, Liam, and the once again fortuitously met Ariel, he would probably have pulled all his hair out or maimed his one good hand from punching walls in frustration. As is, it has been nearly a week since their ship had been sent forcibly from the Land Without Magic. In every waking moment since – and they've all been waking; he cannot sleep, only pace his quarters, stomach churning at the thought that he will have appeared to abandon Emma like so many before him – he has been struggling, racing against time, desperate to get back to his Love. Not only can he not bear the thought of her hurting because of him, of it seeming for even a second that he would desert her, but the more time passes and the more complicated it has proved to get back home, the more frighteningly sure Killian has become that Gideon needed him specifically out of the picture. Whatever the Dark One's spawn has in mind, it means danger for Emma, and he isn't there to fight at her side.

With hardly a backward glance, he tears from the hold and clamors up onto the docks. Running toward their shared home as if that wretched hell hound from the Underworld is on his heels once more, Killian barely calls a 'thank you' over his shoulder to his comrades before he is halfway up the street.

Bursting through the front door after clattering up the steps of their porch, Killian calls out Emma's name, hoarse with panic, even as he can clearly see that the lights are dim and the place is eerily still. When searching every room on the first floor in rapid succession yields nothing, he bounds up the stairs to their bedroom, still crying out for his Swan; still hoping against hope that she will rise from their bed to welcome him, arms outstretched and both of their sins ready to be forgiven with love.

Finding that room empty and cold as well is the battering ram which almost breaks him. 'Where is she?' 'What's happened to her?' repeats round and round in his head, as his adrenaline flees and he sinks on suddenly weak, shaking legs to the edge of the bed, praying she is alright, that she hasn't given up on him and left this home they dreamed of for so long – that he isn't too late. For a moment, he buries his face in his hand, a few tears leaking from his eyes here in this dusky quiet where no one else can see.

His despair does not last though – whether it is the small kernel of undefeatable hope, purpose, love for Emma – for his family – or just plain stubbornness; whatever it is that has kept him pressing on throughout lonely centuries, it pulls Killian Jones to his feet again. Soon he is back down the stairs, across the porch and moving down the street, instinct and his heart guiding him where he needs to go, and urging him forward as quickly as he can get there.

At Emma's parents' loft apartment, he hesitates only briefly, steeling himself with a deep breath for the anger and betrayal he may face, and the fist to the nose Dave may greet him with. But he doesn't have time to waste; he has already been gone too long. With every moment he is apart from his Swan, his desperation and fear for her grows, and he cannot help imagining worse and worse reasons why Gideon might have wanted him far away.

Knocking on the door, mouth dry, heart pounding, Killian only has moments to contemplate what to say, if he will have to push them aside to gain entrance, if he will be able to stand the harsh words he is bound to hear and the disappointment in eyes that had finally begun to regard him as a part of their family, when he hears the lock turn and then it swings open to reveal a rumpled-looking and red-eyed Snow White. To his shock, and throwing him completely off balance, Snow reaches for his arm and pulls him into the apartment, hugging him tightly with her voice muffled against his jacket as she says, "Thank goodness you're here, Killian! It was starting to look like something awful had happened to you…"

Killian sputters disbelievingly even as Snow pulls away, wiping her cheeks and sniffling a bit, and allows her to drag him further into the main room, even as he stumbles over his own feet. "But…I…You are? Did Emma not tell you what I've done?"

Snow shakes her head, dithering and waving her hand as if to bat his qualms away. "She didn't explain…just that she didn't know where you were." And here the rightful ruler of the Enchanted Forest gives him the smallest of sad little smiles, "None of that matters right now. We need you… Emma needs you."

"Doesn't matter?" Killian repeats, blinking and completely nonplussed.

Snow dips her head, hiding her expression from him as she leads him on by the hand, up the steps to the room Killian knows was Emma's for a short time.

However, if he had thought himself confused and troubled already, it is nothing compared to the sight which overwhelms him upon entering Emma's small boudoir. There, lying as if in peaceful, permanent slumber, is his Emma, stretched out upon the bed, eyes closed in seeming rest with her golden hair arrayed across the pillow in a spill of light and hands folded over each other on her stomach. Yet, having felt her curled against him many times in the tiniest possible ball, as if protecting herself even in sleep, and knowing how often she tosses and turns tangling her long legs in the sheets, Killian realizes immediately something is not right – Emma is never so still.

Even if that had not alerted him, the appearance of David, Henry, and Belle around the bed would have, Dave slumped in a chair by the nightstand, looking devastated and lost as he watches over his daughter, and Henry, head bowed and silent, seated on the bed by his mother's feet, while Belle stands near him, worried and torn, her hand on her grandson's shoulder. It flashes through his head that they resemble the mournful tableau around a glass coffin in the cartoon Emma and Henry had gleefully shown him some weeks ago, the one that supposedly told her parents' story. Except these were not somewhat cutesy hand drawn dwarves; these were the members of his family, and he had no such illusions that things could be righted as instantaneously. Surely if the immediately obvious solution could work, they would have done it already?

Slow, hesitant steps bring him closer to the bed where his princess, his True Love, lies. And though he wants to fall to his knees, rail and scream at the universe and the unfairness of her loss, he finds that he can only stare dazedly until he finally reaches her other side, and runs a tender, aching finger along a strand of her hair.

David looks up at his entrance, and though his mouth tightens in a hard, thin line, he says nothing, spews none of the accusations Killian had expected from him, nor does he order the pirate from his home.

"Dave…I…" Killian starts, swallowing hard and trying to offer any kind of apology that could possibly seem like enough. Even if the other man doesn't know the horrible discovery about his father's long ago murder, Prince Charming may well believe that Killian left his daughter without a word when she was in grave danger and needing his support.

But the prince shakes his head slowly, dismissing the need. "All of that can wait for later," he sighs, voice low and ragged. "I know something wasn't right with your disappearance anyway. Just… please … wake my daughter."

Killian is taken aback, jerking upright in surprise. "How can I?" he asks, reaching to twine his fingers with Emma's limp, cool ones, needing the contact whether she can press his in return or no. "If you or Henry couldn't wake her, why would I be able to, after how I've ruined what was between us?'

Belle speaks up then, her voice shaky with a clear mix of concern and guilt. "The best we can figure is that G-Gideon altered the Sleeping Curse. Possibly because Henry has shared a True Love's Kiss with her before, he is unable to repeat the action? And…" she trails off hesitantly, and David picks up the explanation.

"…And because Snow and I weren't there for her all those years, despite my best intentions, in some way I did fail her. At any rate, what we have with our own daughter must not be strong enough to be True Love either." His head bows again to rest on Emma's shoulder, the agonized emotion in her father's voice and the defeated curve of his strong shoulders unravels Killian that much more.

Then Snow speaks up just behind him, her voice soft yet full of hope as she prods him with a hand at his back. "You're the only one who can bring her back, Killian. I know it! I've never seen her look at anyone else the way she does at you. She wasn't herself without you, even before Gideon did this, and she needs to know you're here."

Shaking his head, Killian licks his lips nervously, going down on one knees at Emma's side, pulling her hand to his chest and looking at her son. Henry meets his gaze and gives his mom's other True Love a nod of urging encouragement, a tiny, watery grin lifting one corner of his mouth.

Bending his head to the pillow beside hers, Killian closes his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage and praying that the bond they have shared is still alive; for she does not deserve this fate. "Swan, I love you… more than I can ever express, despite how I must have hurt you unwillingly. Please… come back to us. Come back to me."

Then, with infinite adoration he leans forward, pressing his lips to hers once more in a sweet kiss. He has missed her so much in the past day and night that it feels instantly as if he is once more whole – like he has finally, truly come home. In the following second, a whoosh of air and light sweeps through the room, ruffling their hair and clothes, sweeping up and invigorating them all. Rainbow color seems to radiate out in a wave of electric power from where their lips meet, and it steals Killian's breath. His heart near ceases to beat as he stares in awe at his princess' face.

Emma's lashes flutter, then she blinks rapidly, sucking in a huge gasp of air as she stirs, and finally Killian feels as if he can breathe again. She sits up quickly, a smile lighting her face as she reaches out for him and pulls him close desperately. "Killian," she exclaims, "you came back!"

Tears threaten, and he has to swallow several times to answer in a rough murmur, "Emma…Love…of course, I did. I never wanted to leave you."

She nods against his shoulder, burrowing closer in his embrace, and neither of them even budge when first Henry, and then the rest pile on in relief and joy, making it a chaotic, clumsy six-person hug. The warmth and belonging spread through his veins and push out the chill loneliness Killian had feared taking over him once more. Laughing and breathing in the warm cinnamon scent of her, he buries his nose in Emma's hair, feels Henry and Belle at his back, and lets Snow's hope fill the last empty cracks hidden away in his soul. No more fear of being lost at sea. He has his harbor, and he means to stay.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @kmomof4 @laschatzi @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @let-it-raines @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke @aloha-4-ever @whimsicallyenchantedrose @searchingwardrobes @gingerchangeling @blackwidownat2814 @linda8084 @branlovestowrite @effulgentcolors @kymbersmith-90 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @hookedonapirate @bmbbcs4evr

[mask-of-prime]

TLK: With a Grain of Salt - Part 2

Fanfic Below

Nighttime. The two rogues almost made it outside the border. Huzuni sensed Chumvi was slowing down a bit. She stopped in her tracks as she heard the male sigh. She frowned and tilted her head as Chumvi’s head hung low.

He noticed her sympathetic look and began to explain, “I’m sure gonna miss my sister. We bicker a lot, but… that doesn’t mean I don’t care about her.”

Huzuni frowned, yet she was utterly touched by his words. What a sweet thing to say about his sister! Maybe he did have a heart under that bigoted, arrogant shell. But still, she wondered; “Why can’t she just leave with you?”

“Lionesses can’t leave. Scar’s orders.”

She nodded, then came up with an idea. She gestured a direction with her head.

“I saw a little cave pretty close to the border, maybe your sister can visit you there from time to time. I’m sure no one would worry about what she’s doing since she wouldn’t be too far off from the Pridelands.” she led the way once more.

_________

"Here we are.” Huzuni smiled, proud to have found the cave.

Her smile faded shortly after, however. She realized she was about to say goodbye to what may have been her only chance of having someone to talk to. She was still a rogue, unfortunately, she had to make a run for it before this lion could possibly deceive her. She had experienced deception all too much in her life.

Something hindered her from her thoughts, however. In fact, she felt she couldn’t control her legs, even. She suddenly collapsed.

Chumvi sat up, “Hey, are you alright?”

Great, what was she afflicted with this time? She listed all the things that have been wrong with her before in her head, identifying the problem, which had been severe dehydration.

She put a paw to her aching head, “Water… I just… I need water. I totally forgot to get some at the waterhole. Stupid me.”

Chumvi looked all around the area. Glimmering under the moonlight was a small puddle. He turned to Huzuni and placed her in the cave.

“Stay here and rest, I’ll bring it to you.”

She arched an eyebrow. She could see the deception coming. She knew all to well you couldn’t just grab water. She couldn’t muster up the energy to try and outsmart him, though. All she did was watch him leave. She let herself rest, in apprehension of the outcome of doing as he said.

The lioness was awakened by the sound of a hollowed-out tortoise shell full of water being placed down in front of her. A hare was placed next to the makeshift bowl.

This had to be too good to be true. She arched an eyebrow and glanced up at him, “Is it poisoned?”

Chumvi was taken aback, “Wh- No? You worry too much.”

He bent down and took the first bite of the hare. Seeing as he willingly took a bite of the food, it indicated it was safe.

Huzuni’s expression relaxed. She dug right in.

_________

Satisfied with their meal, the lions laid lazily in their little abode. Gazing at the stars that twinkled above them.

Huzuni didn’t quite understand what they were looking at. She just followed what Chumvi was doing. Sure, the stars were very pretty, but why did he look at them like he was in love with them or something?

The lioness broke the silence, “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s going on?”

“Just, uh… looking for my father.”

“What?”

“You know, lions of the past?”

“Hah, I-I’m…. not following?”

“You mean no one told you about the spirits in the stars?”

Huzuni shook her head.

“Well… When honorable lions die, their spirits become the stars. Y’know, those twinkly white things? My father was the Bravest of the Lion Guard, until he died one day. I still don’t know exactly how, though, all I know is that Scar told my mom and I that he died bravely in a battle.”

Huzuni nodded. She, herself knew a few honorable lions that died. Her paws shifted as she conjured up the courage to bring them up.

“My father died before I was born, too. I think my mother said he was in the Lion Guard as well. To this day I don’t know he died, though, as my mother never liked to talk about it.”

Chumvi’s eyes widened at the coincidence, but he kept listening.

She glanced up and continued, “My… m-my mother died too, she fought off hyenas in order to save me…” Huzuni sat up and gazed at the stars, fighting back her tears.

“���Do you think my parents are up there?”

Feeling sorry for Huzuni’s loss, Chumvi sat up too, and nuzzled her cheek. This night marked the beginning of many more nights together to come.

_________

“What do you mean he got away?!” the booming voice of Scar could be heard from the inside of Pride Rock.

After dismissing the insolent hyenas, Scar pounded a paw against a flat rock. The stressful thoughts of being overthrown by any male were bringing him down. He paced back and forth in the lair.

Inside the lair resided another of his kind. A lioness who listened to her beloved’s despair. She frowned as she watched him, knowing it was best not to comfort him with physical affection as she noticed how tense he’d been. She knew all about Scar’s plan, as she had been told all about it with his trust in her. As loyal as she was, she never spoke a word to the other pridesisters, keeping his plan safe.

Lately, however, she hadn’t been feeling very confident in her loyalty, as she promised her king she’d produce the perfect heir, but both of the cubs she produced were rather unsatisfactory. Perhaps mothering his heir would not be her job. But still, she craved for something she could do to make her king happy again.

She got it.

She would physically lead the hyenas to the runaway male, herself. She would sacrifice her own reputation for the longevity of her king’s rule over the Pridelands in case the lionesses catch her causing the death of one of their pride members.

The lioness cracked a wide, sinister grin as her blood red eyes pierced the darkness of the cave.