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mrsarnasdelicious · 1 year

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House Full of Heathens

Slightly Fix it and Very Poly. Reader x Sihtirc, Reader x Finan, Reader x Osferth, Reader x Leofric, Sithric x Uthred, Sithric x Finan, Sithric x Osferth, Finan x Osferth.

Ch 1: No Oaths

You have found yourself in the company of Skorpa of the White Horse, though you are not sure how. They are a fragtag band, only fortunate enough that the people of Cornwalum are no fighters. There is no silver in the plunder and the livestock is skinny. No worthy sacrifice for Loki or Tyr.

Skorpa does not know who you are. That your father is Harald Finehair, a great King among Danes. Nor does he know you ran away to escape that life. To be free and anonymous.

You have half a mind to leave Skorpa behind and strike out on your own. Find a comely man to fuck and a nice fat bull to dedicate to Loki.

This opportunity is presented in the guise of Uhtred Ragnarson. His ragtag band of Saxons strikes a deal with Skorpa, though you know Skorpa is lying, you see it in those piss coloured eyes. Fucker. You have no time to warn Uhtred of the deceit, though. Things escalate quite quickly. And before you know it, King Peredur is dead. His silver is ripe for the taking. Sadly, there are no comely men to be found., only Peredur’s shadow queen. And she is looking at Uhtred like his cock is made of gold.

And of course, Skorpa makes off with the silver. You don’t follow him out of Peredur’s timber keep. You have long since had your fill of his band of poxy whoresons.

“Oi, Uhtred, one of Skorpa’s men is still here.” Says a tall man, who is in Uhtred’s company. You take off your helmet, throwing it at his feet. Uhtred looks up from Iseuld and begins to laugh. “That, Leofric, is no man. This is a Shield Maiden.” He says. The man gapes at you. You smirk at him. “Yes, Leofric, I am no man.” You purr. “But! The Battlefield is no place for a maiden!” Leofric protests. “Don’t you know some of the fiercest warriors are women.” Says Uhtred. Leofric opens his mouth, but Iseuld shakes her head.

“Come, I will help you to the rest of the silver.” She says, The men follow her out of the keep.

The men dig up the dungheap with their hands and the last of their dignity. You and Iseuld stand by and watch. “The gods have it in for this one.” You say. “Utred?” Asks Iseuld. You nod. “They will test him, time and again. They will reward him for his labours, but gods will he have to fight. Especially with Kings.” You say. Iseuld nods. “Are you a seer?” She asks. You shake your head. “I am sometimes given dreams. I had dreams of Uhtred and his companions. I dreamt of glory and I dreamt of death. And maybe those death’s don’t have to come to pass.” You reply

The silver is swiftly divided and you approach Uhtred. “Son of Ragnar, my sword is yours.” You tell him firmly. He gives you an up and down. A small smirk tugs at his lips. “I will gladly accept. What is your name?” He asks. “I am called Y/N.” You reply, extending your arm. He clasps you by the elbow. “Just Y/N?” Leofric asks. “Y/N Haraldsdottir.” You reply. “Harald? You mean Harald Finehair?” Uhtred furrows his brow at you. You nod in answer. “Is that someone I should know?” Leofric asks. “He is one of the greater Dane Kings.” Uhtred replies.

Leofric bodily turns to you. “Princess.” He gives you a stiff bow. You burst out laughing. The Saxon looks at you, obviously startled. He casts his gaze to Uhtred, utterly nonplussed. “Something I said.” He mutters. Uhtred smiles widely. “I think this shield maiden has not been named heir to her father’s realm. This is not uncommon, even for sons.” Uhtred replies. “I am not a princess.” You add. “Very well, not a Princess.” Leofric concedes.

You ride out with Uhtred’s little band. Back to Wessex. For them at least. You have not yet been in Wessex before. It is just heading into the next adventure.

Uhtred parts from the group. To do what, you cannot quite make out. “Stay with Leofric.” He says to you, before he leaves. You have half a mind to just leave and find another useless band of Danes. You swore Uhtred no oaths. But you stay with Leofric anyway. He smiles so charmingly and he has a sharp sense of humour. You decide you quite like him.

You ride beside him on the trek back to Winchester. It is a hard ride and by the time you arrive, you feel like your arse is made of wood, but at least you got somewhere substantial.

“You go find yourself an inn or an alehouse. I will come find you and tell Uhtred where you are.” Leofric says. “Where will you go?” You ask. Leofric looks down and chuckles gently. “I am going to have to see the King.” He says. “Find me after that?” You smirk up at him. Leofric ponders on the answer for a little while. But then he grins widely. “If you have yourself a room at an inn, I will.” He says. “I got silver enough for it.” You answer. “So you do.” Leofric agrees.

He takes his leave and you are left to your own devices for a few hours. You explore Winchester on your own, wandering the narrow streets and take in the houses and people and the animals in the streets.

There is a cart selling meat pies, and you buy one. You enjoy the rich flavours as you walk and eat your pie. Then you find yourself an ale house to have a pint. And Leofric finds you there.

“There you are.” Says the Saxon. You look up from your drink. “I’ve been looking for you for a good while now.” He sits down beside you. “I have been trying to enjoy the piss water you Saxons call ale.” You retort. “That is called ale because Alfred wants people to be able to work come morning.” Leofric gestures to the barmaid. She nods and pours him a pint, too. “It sucks. I’d rather have water next time, but clean water is likely not an option in a place like this.” You reply. Leofric nods and pulls some silver from a pouch at his hip.

“You Saxons are so dirty.” You say. Leofric looks at you, mildly disgruntled. “There is shit in these streets, I have seen you bathe only a handful of times and by the gods, clean water is harder to come by than gold.” You tell him. Leofric scoffs, but he can’t tell you you are wrong. “So that means you won’t take me to bed?” He asked with a sly smirk. You ponder on a reply for a while. You know he has no opportunity to wash. He’ll smell of horse and sweat. His mouth will taste of ale and old blood, but so will yours. You suppose you’ll just not suck his cock.

“I’ll find an inn.” You say, draining your ale and getting up. Leofric follows your example. He throws a few more coins on the table, for the barmaid. “Come, I know a good place.” He says. “A clean place?” You ask, with a wicked smirk. “Woman, you sure are something.” Leofric scoffs. But he takes you by the hand and leads you from the alehouse to a three story, timber built inn. It is a very good looking building, less run down than the alehouse.

“Is this to m’lady’s liking?” Leofric asks. You look up at him and smile. “Yes it is. Also, I am not a lady. I am a shield maiden.” You tell him. “I doubt you are a maiden. I won’t be the first man you hump.” He sounds very convinced. You chuckle and pull some silver from your coin pouch. “My pay.” You tell him. “Very well.” Leofric agrees.

It takes you only a handful of minutes to be given a key to a room and head upstairs.

Once the door shuts behind you, Leofric shoves you against its wooden surface. His eyes are dark and full of desire. “Go on then, take me.” You hiss. Leofric chuckles and cups your face with his huge hand. He does smell of horse, but not as bad as you expected. You close your eyes and hear Leofric make an approving little sound. Then he leans in to kiss you slowly. It is almost experimental. Not like he does not know how to kiss, but like he is trying to find out what you will like best.

You wind your arms around his neck and kiss him back greedily. Leofric groans loudly. He is not expecting you to be so forward. But you are a Dane, not a Saxon. You know how to please a man for true. And this most certainly does not include meekly doing as you are told.

You start shoving him backwards, to the bed. Leofric grunts against your mouth, but puts up no fight. It is not easy, Leofric is absolutely huge, but slowly you manage to shove him to the bed. Leofric falls down on the bed, looking up at you. He grins and pulls you down on top of him. “Come here.” He growls. “Gladly.” You murmur.

You renew the kiss, bracketing his hips with your legs. Leofric groans and his hands slide to your ass. He grabs wickedly at your leather clad flesh. You moan into his mouth. You begin to rock your pelvis against his. Leofric swears against your lips and tries to keep you still. But you won’t let him hold you back. You will ride him! You will show this Saxon how Danes do things properly. You lick into his mouth, letting him know you are fully going to assert yourself. It does not matter that he is bigger. You have a lot of underhanded tricks up your sleeve. Leofric groans, not at all of a mind to complain. His tongue flicks out at yours and he tugs at your tunic. He is not taking this slow. You don’t want him to take it slow. It has been a while since you last had a man.

You break the kiss to sit upright and pull your tunic over your head. Your leather armour has been discarded hours before. Leofric licks his lips and gazes up at you. His fingers bunch in the cloth of your light undershirt. “Take this off.” He growls. You smirk and shake your head. “I hear no please, Saxon.” You cooe. “I don’t have to beg you, Dane.” Leofric growls. He helps you out of your undershirt. Once it is off, his hands go to your breasts right away. His palms are warm and his fingers calloused. You lean into his touch.

Leofric massages your breasts and pulls at your nipples. You close your eyes and revel in his ministrations. Soft, sweet moans pour from your lips.

And then he starts to grind up at you. He is hard in his breeches. You press back down on him. Leofric groans deeply and his hand slips down to the rim of your own breeches. His thumb trails slowly from your navel to your lacings. You shudder a little at how tender the ministration is. But then Leofric makes quick work of the laces of your breeches. “Take this off.” He growls. He’s quite demanding in his tone. “Ask nicely.” You purr. But Leofric shakes his head, beginning to tug down your breeches, as far as he can manage. This bares the better part of your arse and your womanhood.

“I smell you.” Leofric growls, grabbing you firmly by the arse. He growls and digs his fingers into your flesh.

You slide off of him to wriggle out of your breeches.

Leofric hurriedly sheds his clothes as well.

And then he is on you. His large body eclipses yours as he kisses you greedily. You moan against your lips, dragging your nails up his back. Leofric groans in answer. He presses his cock down against your folds. You roll your pelvis up at him. Leofric bites back a groan and grinds back down on you. “Gods.” You hiss into his mouth. “You want it?” Leofric growls. “Yes, hump me.” You whisper.

You don’t have to tell him twice.

He lines himself up and pushes into you. You moan loudly. Leofric adds a wordless moan to yours. You tilt your pelvis a little, to give him a better angle. “Go ahead, hump me.” You encourage him. A thing you won’t have to tell him twice, of course. Leofric pounds into you as though he hasn’t had a woman in weeks. And this might be the truth of it, though you have no way to make sure, bar ask him. And know better than to ask a man about when he last had sex.

Leofric presses his face into the nape of your neck. “You feel so good.” He growls against your skin. He slams his pelvis against your, over and over again, without holding back. The sounds rising from it are obscene. You moan and claw at his back. “Feisty little heathen.” Leofric murmurs. He nips at the lobe of your ear. You moan and rock your hips into his thrusts.

And then you judge he’s had his fun. It is your turn.

You grab him by the shoulders and topple him over. Leofric grunts, not expecting you to be this strong. Shoving down onto the bed, you straddle him. Your folds press down on his cock, which is wet from your cunt. Leofric groans darkly, squirming below you. He is not accustomed to a woman on top, it would seem. “Don’t struggle, I won’t hurt you.” You tell him. “You could not hurt me even if you tried, Little Heathen.” Leofric chuckles dryly. You reach out to grab his throat, quick as a snake. Leofric’s breath hitches. “I am a shieldmaiden, Saxon. I can hurt you.” You hiss. You press your fingertips into his skin. Leofric grabs your wrist, trying to get you to leave off. He is strong, but you are no meek little girl. You resist him. But with your free hand, you line up his cock with your wet core. “God, you are something else.” Leofric rasps. “I know.” You affirm, sinking down on him.

You ride him, your fingers still at his throat.

Leofric groans and tries to trash below you. But you know by now how to keep an unruly mount in check. “Make me cum.” You hiss at him. “Wh-what?” Leofric gasps. You finally let his throat go and instead taking his hand. You bring his fingers to your clit. “You know how to give a woman pleasure, don’t you Saxon?” You purr. “Of course I do.” Leofric huffs. “Then do it.” You order. Leofric rubs his thumb at your clit. You moan and roll your pelvis into his touch. “That is what you like, huh?” Leofric rumbles. “Any woman does, as you keep your touches gentle.” You reply.

He keeps rubbing you. And you keep riding him.

Your muscles tense and your inner walls clench down on Leofric’s cock. Leofric groans loudly and his ministrations begin to falter. “N-not yet.” You whimper. “I ca-can’t.” He grunts. “Just a little more.” You hiss.

You are so close.

“A little more.” You order. “My God, woman-” Leofric snarls. “Make me cum, Saxon.” You tell him firmly. “You will be the death of me.” Leofric growls. But he obliges. He keeps rubbing unsteadily at your clit. But it is enough. The tension inside you peaks and your core clings onto his cock. Lightning blazes down your spine and sets you ablaze. “Oh Gods.” You moan. Wetly, all tension gushes from you and your inner walls contract on Leofric’s cock. “Christ!” Leofric grunts. He bucks his pelvis up at you. He spends himself deep inside you. “Goddamn.” He groans. You smile down on him. “Well done, Saxon.” You smirk.

Slowly you get off him.

You lay down next to him, panting slightly. “Not bad, for an unwashed Saxon.” You smirk at him. Leofric chuckles hoarsely. “Not bad yourself, you heathen.” He replies. “It is always better with a Dane.” You tease. Leofric scoffs in reply. “You are awfully full of yourself.” He says. “I know myself well.” You reply with a wicked smirk. You roll over and kiss him fiercely. Leofric groans and pulls you close. He is not truly cross with you. He is just bruised in his pride.

The next morning you wake up with your face pressed against Leofric’s bicep. He is snoring lightly.

You decide to let him sleep and slip out of bed. You put your clothes and boots back on and head out. First to make your water and then to get yourself some breakfast. Your mind is barely on Leofric. He is not your future. He is Saxon and you are Dane. You need a fellow Dane to grow with, not a man like Leofric, as much as you enjoy him, for now.

You break your fast in the inn’s common room, on your own. You notice how people are looking at you. They know you are different, they know you are not of their god. And that makes you bad. Horseshit, of course. There are plenty of Gods to go around and worshipping some over others says nothing about someone as a person. It says only anything about which Gods they look to for strength, hope and comfort.

You try to ignore the whispers and the looks. You have better things to do than to get into a discussion with Christians today. Winchester is a big settlement and you have exploring to do. You gotta learn the secrets of this place, partly for the hell of it and partly because secrets give you a power over the people who might want to harm you here.

#TLK #the last kingdom #leofric #uhtred #iseuld #leofric x reader

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50calmadeuce · 1 year

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Ch. 1: Coronado Beach

Summary:

You've moved to San Diego to pursue your aquatic veterinarian degree, but to pay for school, you got a job as a San Diego Lifeguard for the summer as you work on your residency in laboratory animal and comparative medicine.

After completing a day of training, you go for a run and meet a sexy pilot playing football on the beach. Will you have time for a relationship with all of your training and schooling?

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

*No smut. Just meeting a hot guy on the sunny Coronado beach.

The sun beat down on you as you and a group of fellow Coronado Beach lifeguards ran down the sandy Coronado beach.

Your hazel eyes squinted as you realized there were four other lifeguards in front of you and the finish line wasn't far ahead. You pushed yourself into high gear since you realized you were that close.

"Five!" one of the senior lifeguards yelled as you crossed the finish line. You slowed to a jog and then to a walk as you let your heart rate slowly get back down to its resting rate.

"Nice job," a muscular blond said to you with a nod.

"You too," you reply as you continue to walk around.

"Alright! Listen up!" one of the head lifeguards' yells. "All of you over here have made it to the next phase. We meet tomorrow back at the building for more training. Holloway! Where are you?"

You raise your hand. "Right here!"

"Stay where you are. The rest of you are dismissed."

The rest of the lifeguards start walking to the Coronado Fire and Lifeguard station as the head guard walks up to you.

Behind his dark sunglasses, he looks at the clip board and then back at you. "We got your information from your high school and college in Wisconsin. Captain of the swim team in high school and college. Master Diver, Search and Rescue Diver certified and an EMT?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you're attending the University of California San Diego?"

"Yes."

"What are you majoring in?"

"I'm working on my doctorate in aquatic veterinary medicine."

His eyes got wide. "Wow!" He uses the clip board to point towards the fire and lifeguard station. "Walk with me."

The two of you begin walking towards the building.

"I'm sure some of this will be boring to you, but you'll be a great asset to the station."

"Thank you, but I'll never be bored. I enjoy learning."

"Good to hear." He stopped and so did you. He looks at you over the top of his sunglasses and smiles. "Then let me be the first to welcome you to the San Diego Lifeguards."

You smile back. "Thank you, sir.

The next day after CPR and First Aid training, you headed up to the locker room to change into your swimsuit for an evening jog on beach.

When you reached your locker, you work the combination lock and open it. You grabbed your black TYR one piece and begin to change when two female lifeguards enter the locker room and stop when they see you.

"You're Y/N Holloway?" the blonde asks.

"I am," you respond as you continue to put on your swimsuit.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Chloe Matthews." She puts out her right hand for you to shake.

You finish putting on your suit, reach out with your right hand and shake it.

"I'm Jericho Adama," the red head says and puts out her hand. You shake that one as well.

"We've heard about you," Chloe says.

"Search and Rescue diver and working on your aquatic veterinary degree. Impressive," Jericho states.

"Thanks." You put your shoulder length, wavy brown hair up in a ponytail, close your locker and grab your sunglasses. "It was nice to meet you guys. I'm going for a jog, so I'll see you around." You walk by them and head out the locker room and down the stairs to the beach.

You put on your sunglasses, place your earbuds in your ears, set your apple watch, do a few stretches and then begin to jog down the beach.

"Not today, Hangman!" Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw yells as he held one of the two footballs required to play Dog Fight football.

"In your dreams, Rooster!" Jake 'Hangman' Seresin replies grinning.

"Don't let your head get too big, Hangman!" Natash 'Phoenix' Trace adds in to the conversation.

"Very funny, Phoenix!" Jake yells and throws the football, but he realizes he throws it too hard and far and it's going to hit the brunette running on the beach. "Watch out!"

You feel something hit your back and stop. You take out one of your earbuds as a dirty blond-haired guy in black board shorts Ray bans and muscular chest comes running over to you.

"Are you okay?" he asks, concern on his face.

You pick up the football and toss it to him. "I'm fine. I don't even think I'll bruise."

"Come on, Hangman!" someone yells from the group he separated from.

The guy throws the football to the group. "I'll be right there!" He turns back to you as you hear the others say: "Yeah, right."

"Hangman?" you ask as you raise an eyebrow.

"It's my call sign. I'm a naval aviator."

"A pilot."

"Yes. For the Navy."

"Oh. So, you go to Top Gun?"

A sexy grin shows up on his face. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Hangman." You start to put your earbud in when he stops you.

"Let me make it up to you."

"It's no big deal."

"The Hard Deck. Eight tonight."

You look at him. "I'll think about it," you say as you pop the ear bud in your ear and jog off.

Jake watches you as your run off and then turns around and heads back to his group.

"Did you get her number?" Rooster asks.

"No."

"What?" Rooster replies surprised.

"I didn't exactly have my phone and I didn't see one on her, but I invited her to The Hard Deck."

Rooster throws Hangman the football. "I got twenty bucks that says she doesn't show."

"Count me in," Phoenix says, her right arm resting on Rooster's shoulder.

Jake grins. "You're on."

#top gun maverick hangman #hangman top gun #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick #natasha phoenix trace #top gun phoenix #phoenix #bradley rooster bradshaw

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nikkilover-miraclenikki · 2 years

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【 Miracle Nikki CN 】

New Journey Vol.3 Ch.2

“The Long Night Will Be Bright”

【 Miracle Nikki CN 】

New Journey Vol.3 Ch.2

“The Long Night Will Be Bright”

In the new chapter of the story, Nikki was awakened by the footsteps of the allied troops gathering.

It was learned from Favnir that the Tyr coalition was heading towards Ashe City, but the main force of the allied forces was not in the city.

Ashe City was undoubtedly facing a crisis

At this moment, Nikki remembered the gem in the box, maybe it could buy time for Agata...

Suit Display ::

P.1 :: Immortal Rose (永生玫瑰)

P.2 :: Honeyberry Covenant (蜜莓约定)

P.3 :: Snow Fox Ringe (雪狐凛歌)

P.4 :: Speedy Magic Sound (极速魅音)

P.5 :: Starry Night Butterfly Dream (星夜蝶梦)

P.6 :: Snow Rabbit Whispers (雪兔絮语)

P.7 :: Toddler Adventure (跚学奇旅)

Collection ::

P.1 :: Pigeon Kingdom

P.2 :: Lilith Kingdom

P.3 :: North Kingdom

P.4 :: Ruin Island

P.5 :: Apple Federal

P.6-7 :: Gallery

Type ::

Journey Suit Vol.3 Ch.2

“The Long Night Will Be Bright”

Date :: 24/08/2022…..

#Journey Suit #Journey Suit Vol.3 #Pigeon Kingdom #Apple Federal #Lilith Kingdom #Ruin Island #North Kingdom #Gallery #奇迹暖暖 #Miracle Nikki #Love Nikki #Nikki Up2U 3 #Nikki 3 #Orangecatty #Dress-Up Game #Nikki Diary Thailand

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meganmackieauthor · 3 months

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I Can't Get the Vampire Rogue to Romance Me - Ch 1

Chapter 1

“I think I should just start over,” Evangeline said into her headset’s mic, resisting every urge she had to simply throw the controller in her hands.

“No! Don’t do that!” the small voice sang in her ear. “Aren’t you almost to act 4?”

“He’s friend zoning me again!” Evangeline declared, falling back into her reclined armchair, swimming in a sea of soft, fuzzy blankets.

“Didn’t the option to feed off of you come up?”

“Yes, Terra! I picked it, and the scene happened, but then that was it. No romance option to continue!”

“I don’t get it. I found it so easy to romance him on my first go!” Terra said unhelpfully.

Groaning, Evangeline plucked up her long cold tea and slurped it up around the tea bag still in it.

“Well, don’t restart your game. Why don’t you just look up an FAQ and see what it is you’re missing?”

“No, absolutely not!” Evangeline declared.

“But why not?”

“What’s the point of playing a game where every decision matters? What is the point of letting someone else make the decisions for you?”

“Yeah, but how is it different than restarting your game? I mean, how many hours have you put into it already? A hundred? And you’ve never gotten further than act 3!”

“Because it’s knowledge I’ve earned!” Evangeline sighed. She just couldn’t make Terra understand.

Terra sighed back. “Okay, how about this? Maybe put the game down? I don’t know about you, but I’ve been playing all weekend, and I think I need to take a shower.”

At that thought, Evangeline took a good whiff of herself, but she didn’t really smell anything. “Yeah, that’s okay, go ahead. I’ll talk to you later,” she said.

“Later.” Then Terra was gone. She had never met Terra in real life. They had met on the Tyr’s Dream forums and had become friends through the game.

“Because, Terra,” Evangeline said, knowing that Terra was gone and couldn’t answer her back. “Because I want him to like me for me. There’s no point otherwise in pretending to be someone else to get him to like me. I like him, there must be a way.”

Yet, even without Terra to reply, she could hear herself. This was crazy. She was getting obsessed. And yes, she was aware “getting” was the wrong word for it.

Lying there in her armchair, she stared at the paused screen, frozen in mid-dialogue with Valerian, the vampire rogue she had completely fallen head over heels for, and he didn’t even exist! He was a digital construct written by a writer and played by an actor. Not real.

“I wish I could just talk to you. These dialogue options, they just don’t say what I want to.”

Evangeline knew she was wasting her life. Well, she was acutely aware of it.

But that didn’t change anything.

“I’m just taking a time-out for now. I’ll get it together soon,” she lied to herself. This whole situation had gone on longer than she expected it would—taking a break from life—but she still just didn’t feel any better.

Staring at the bowls of snacks next to her, she wondered, when the last time she had a decent meal?

She’d deal with that in a minute. Maybe she’d order Chinese food. She was sick of pizza, even if it was more cost-effective.

“Valerian, what is wrong with me?” she asked the figure on her screen, mounted up high on her wall. “Why don’t you like me?”

Closing her eyes, she exhaled. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake, and the air smelled like something soothing and familiar, nestled in her nest of warmth.

The sensation of falling felt very real. Maybe it was a dream, maybe it wasn’t. Her mind couldn’t make itself up, she just knew that something was happening to her, something she would never be able to describe and then.

“Ah, there you are.”

Evangeline snapped open her eyes.

She stood in the middle of a glade.

“What?”

It was exactly what an idyllic glade would look like. Even-cut green grass with pops of brightly colored flowers throughout, going ten feet in any one direction surrounded her. The tree line was perfectly uniform, and the trees were spaced at exact intervals so that trees behind them filled in the space making a solid wall.

Before her, floating in the air, was a data table. Blinking rapidly at it didn’t make it go away. It just continued to hover before her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Across the top was her name, Evangeline, written in fancy script, along with seven anagrams below it: Str, Con, Dex, Int, Wit, Wis, and Cha. Beneath them were numbers 9, 16, 16, 10, 16, 10, and 14.

And beneath that was a list of skills with numbers besides those such as deception, thieves-trick skill, and perception along with history, magic history, culture, and so many others. Just as she got to the bottom of the list, the whole thing shifted to her left and another column appeared.

Special Skill: Meta Knowledge.

Beside that were four tick marks. Beneath another box appeared. It was empty except for the label at the top. Inventory.

“What the hell?”

“Oh, dear. You’re awake already. I wasn’t expecting that,” a voice said from behind her. Evangeline whirled around to see a gray-skinned man in a toga. Or rather, he had gray skin with marbling of rainbow colors pulsing like cracks in an ancient statue. His hair was a flowing wave of lighter gray, which also seemed to have a strange sheen in the dappled sunlight, casting more rainbows.

Needless to say, what she could see of his skin, and it was a considerable amount, was dehydrated model ripped.

He was also floating a half foot off the ground.

As soon as he noticed her looking, he held out his hands on either side of him, with a purple and gold shawl draped over both. “Greetings, mortal, and welcome my chosen to your destiny.”

Evangeline swore that he glowed a little brighter, even though there was no light actually coming off of him.

“Who… who the hell are you?” she asked.

He arched a perfect eyebrow at her. “Truly? Those are your first words to me, mortal?”

“Who the hell are you… sir?”

If you want to read the latest chapter join my newsletter at meganmackieauthor.com

#baldur's gate 3 #litrpg #meganmackie

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dragons-bones · 2 years

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FFXIV Write Entry #15: Just Your Average Symposium

Prompt: row || Master Post || On AO3

“I had forgotten how lively the conferences are in Limsa Lominsa,” Nidhana said cheerfully.

On the stage where the panel was seated, the arcanist presenting had escaped her colleagues trying to hold her back to stumble forward and throw a punch at the professor from the University of Ul’dah. The hyur ducked and tackled the au ra to the floor, and then a full-bore brawl broke out between their colleagues. Synnove, at the moderator’s podium, threw up her hands in disgust. “Get the kiddos out of here!” she barked, and her fellow arcanists in the audience immediately began herding the first- and second-years out of the auditorium.

Varpasa snickered into her palm as Jalamuc covered his eyes, whistling mournfully through his trunk. “It’s a paper on the aetheric properties of pathogens and managing potential disease vectors, how in the world does one get into a fistfight about it?” the other Arkasodara said.

“Oh, please, like any one of us wouldn’t have lost our tempers being questioned so rudely,” Nidhana said, watching with keen interest as the front half of the room used Synnove’s distractedness, the Highlander now wading into the stage brawl with Tyr at her side, to devolve into a chaotic mess of debate. The lalafell academics were always the most vicious, so much rage compressed into such tiny bodies.

“Tobana and Ayleth have hated each other for years, too,” Mahruvvet said, on Varpasa’s other side. “How long has their “In reply to” chain stretched to now?”

“It’s at least ten,” Varpasa said, finally gaining control of herself.

Synnove had, of course, read the energy in the room correctly when she had demanded the removal of the youngest students, as the auditorium was quickly descending into bedlam. Any excuse for a debate, or a fight. Which was both, to academics.

And Lominsans preferred a fistfight. Honestly, it was such a better method; Hannish alchemists went to the explosives first a little too eagerly.

(Nidhana should not cast stones, she knew. Put her and her fellows from the High Crucible in the same room as a gaggle of adjunct professors from the University of Radz-at-Han, and there would be violence at some point, even if it was just a single bloody nose or trunk.)

A chirp caught all their attention, and they glanced down to see Galette sitting primly at Nidhana’s feet. Sorry, Nidhana, she churred, her mental ‘voice’ genuinely apologetic, could I use you as a lookout post? Mama needs me to check the paths to the exits stay clear.

“Oh, certainly, little one, I’m happy to be of assistance!” Nidhana said, bending down to scoop the carbuncle up and set her on her shoulder.

Galette chittered her thanks, ears flicking as her head whipped back and forth to scan the crowd. Such a lovely carbuncle; Nidhana still remembered that one conference over a decade ago where she had eaten half the dessert table at the buffet lunch on the third day when tempers were fraying and Synnove had to grab her carbuncle and flee the city entirely to escape the ire of the attendees. Of course, Galette was still willing and able to demolish an entire spread of desserts all by herself, but her self-control was much better these days.

On stage, Synnove had literally dragged Tobana and Ayleth apart; Tyr had flopped on Ayleth, the hyur snarling in outrage, as Tobana dangled in Synnove’s grip and struggled to break free.

The cacophony of everyone shouting and yelling and arguing all at once was incredible, and some of Nidhana’s cheer dimmed as the sound assaulted her. Synnove was shouting something herself, but she couldn’t be heard, and Nidhana saw her face twist before she gestured with her free hand to someone.

Ivar leapt onto the moderator’s podium, threw back his head, and howled.

The sudden, following silence seemed to echo, and the audience slowly turned to face the stage again, many visibly cringing with their shoulders hunched.

“Thank you, darling,” Synnove said to the ruby carbuncle, who puffed out his chest. Then the Highlander turned her head and leveled a glare on the audience. “You will behave or I will personally kick each and every one of your asses. Except the Hannish alchemists, you’ve been lovely. Please off Zarir for me.”

“Your shows are the best!” Nidhana called down. “And it’s called plausible deniability! None of us have it!”

Synnove waved in acknowledgement, and set Tobana back on her feet, pointing sternly to the Raen’s seat. The other woman grudgingly went to take it as Tyr dragged Ayleth back to hers.

Galette wiggled up to loaf on Nidhana’s head. I’m just gonna stay here, she chittered.

“Ate a tort you weren’t supposed to, didn’t you?”

…Maybe.

Varpasa started snickering again.

PREVIOUS PROMPT (NSFW) || NEXT PROMPT

#ffxivwrite2022 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #nidhana #varpasa #jalamuc #mahruvvet #oc: synnove greywolfe #synnove's carbuncles #dt's writing

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tiredassmage · 2 months

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Identify yourself as an Intelligence officer if you need to, and use the fear it creates. You're on Imperial soil now, agent. Welcome home.

#swtor #swtor screenshots #imperial agent #ch: tyr #have to steadily go back and lose my mind about him a little every so often y'know. just to keep it fresh. make sure we ain't slackin xD

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afoolandathief · 2 years

Text

I forget how cute Fenrir and Tyr are till I read Ch 15 again 🐺👋

#rambles #those horrid horrid things #r reads thht

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procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics · 6 months

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ch. 6 – tyr (to teach)

summary: life apart

warnings: pregnancy stuff, angst (really? omg that's so crazy)

tagged: @levithestripper @demon-of-the-ancient-world

general masterlist | series masterlist

Athelstan

“Women are as fickle as the moon.” Ragnar had told him, clapping a hand on his shoulder and smiling sympathetically. Athelstan had wanted to protest. What did Ragnar know of Alethia?

When Alethia had not come to the encampment of the Northmen, Bjorn, Rollo, Lagertha, Torstein - even Floki - had offered their sympathies, said a few kind words and assured him that it was not his fault.

Athelstan knew it was. He did not know why Alethia had not come after him, had perhaps chosen to stay in Wessex, with Ecbert, but he did know that he had left her behind, left in a rush to be reunited with his friends.

His family.

He would not blame her if she did not forgive him. Athelstan thought he could have, but he was Athelstan. There were not many people who thought like him, and Alethia had anger written into her very bones.

She would never forgive him.

The return to Kattegat felt flat without her. For months, Athelstan had thought of what to do here with Alethia, after showing her around and introducing her to everyone. He knew she would have gotten along well with Hvitserk and Ubbe, taking her time to play with them when Aslaug could not and Ragnar was too busy to. She would have known some remedy or another to soothe Ivar.

He could have shown her his longhouse, the sketches he kept hidden away. She would have understood. Perhaps Athelstan could have shown Alethia the forests, climbed the cliffs surrounding the bay. He knew she would have liked to swim at the shores, to ride out into the lands surrounding Kattegat, to spend a few days doing nothing at all.

Perhaps he would have spent some of them kissing her.

Absentmindedly, Athelstan held a hand out to Lagertha, helping her onto the docks. She only gave him another pitied smile.

“That girl has no idea what she was giving up.” She said quietly.

“I should have stayed.” Athelstan replied, voice thick. “She never would have… She is loyal, like you.”

“I left as well.” Lagertha reminded.

“That was different.”

“It was.” She nodded. “Perhaps your… perhaps she was simply afraid.”

“Then I should have given her courage!” Athelstan protested. He felt like a child, like he always did with Lagertha.

“There will be another.”

Athelstan stayed quiet for a moment, anger making his skin burn. You know that is not true, Lagertha. You of all people.

He watched her leave, with her shieldmaidens, watched as the men carried the spoils of war to the great hall, watched the celebrations and numbly drank from his cup. Being a monk should have protected him from this. It was precisely why he had sworn a vow. So something like this would not happen.

Then again, when had his vow ever saved him from anything?

Athelstan was about to stand and leave when Aslaug sat down next to him, away from the music and the loud crowd. She gave him a rare smile.

“Princess.” Athelstan said quickly.

“Priest.” Aslaug mused, carefully adjusting Ivar in her arms. Athelstan had never told her how he admired her for her strength, for saving Ivar from the forest and the foxes. Alethia would have said that it was simply a mother’s love, and smiled at him for not understanding that kind of courage. Athelstan stayed quiet because he did not think it was his place.

“You are sad.” Aslaug observed. “About your woman.”

“How fast word spreads.”

“So it is true.” Aslaug replied. “I did not hear it from the mouth of Ragnar.”

“Who then?” Athelstan asked.

“The Gods. I dreamt of her, you know.” Aslaug told him. Athelstan paused, setting down his mead.

“Truly?”

“A girl in a dark forest.” Aslaug mused. “A shieldmaiden on a battlefield, surrounded by the dead. Her friends, her children, her lover. She is the storm, priest, and you the lone sailor. She deals in absolutes, in death and life. They are the only two things she can give. But you are willing to take both from her, aren’t you?”

The silence between them was uncomfortably quiet, but then, Aslaug laughed. “But since when do you believe in the Gods, priest?”

When it came to Alethia, Athelstan was ready to believe just about anything.

He only gave Aslaug a forced smile, and took another sip of his mead, until his world began to spin.

In the months to come, Aslaug was not the only one haunted by Alethia. Athelstan dreamt of her, the night he returned and many others.

It was always the same, even after more than half a year of his return, in the deepest of winters.

Athelstan opened his eyes to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the walls. It was warm, and specks of dust danced in the light. Gone were the heavy furs of winter, gone the cold.

Summer had returned to Kattegat. He was not sure why he had not left with the others to raid, only that it was right he had remained.

He turned to his right, and there was his wife, still peacefully sleeping. Athelstan smiled, slipping out of bed quietly so that he would not wake her. From the longhouse, it was only a few steps to the shore of their hidden bay, where she loved to swim.

Athelstan had chosen the house for Alethia the day they’d returned to Kattegat together. He thought that she knew, the information hidden in her teasing smiles.

He prayed for her happiness that morning, just like every other, before he thanked God for his.

The songbirds chirped, and somewhere in the distance, a rooster crowed. One of Alethia’s cats brushed by his legs, and Athelstan petted it absentmindedly. It purred, languishing in the rising sun and under his touch, and Athelstan picked it up, setting it down in his lap.

“You’re getting fat.” he mused under his breath, and the cat purred in agreement. “My wife is much too kind to you. You know what she said? She said that you are our health insurance, and that is why she spoils you so. Though I am not sure how you’ll hunt rats when all you do is beg for pets all day.”

Alethia had named the cat ‘Garfield’, a word which Athelstan could barely pronounce, but as the ginger tabby grew more and more spoilt, Alethia’s grin over its name grew wider and wider, which was reason enough for Athelstan to keep to the name.

Eventually, Athelstan returned to the longhouse, washing his hands before he slipped back under the covers.

Alethia complained in her sleep, but still rolled right into his arms. Automatically, his hands went to the small but growing bump on her stomach, and Athelstan smiled.

Right. That was why he’d stayed.

“Husband.” Alethia mumbled teasingly, sleep thickening her voice. “Can’t let your poor wife sleep, huh?”

“Do you wish to lounge in bed all day?” Athelstan asked in return. “You know my conscience does not allow it.”

“Workaholic.” Alethia replied, and Athelstan remembered precisely how she’d taught him the word when she’d first come to England. He knew those months as if they had been yesterday, even if, now, they were years behind.

Gently, he cupped her face, kissing her. Alethia returned the kiss with a fervor that still made Athelstan blush like a monk, languid and slow, throwing her leg over his waist and trying to get impossibly close to him.

“How is the little one?” he asked after a while.

“Wonderful, I’d say. Its mother however… she could use some care.” Alethia replied jokingly, and Athelstan pressed a few light kisses against her neck, to which Alethia giggled like a girl. His hands combed through her hair gently, scratching her scalp until Alethia was practically purring like their cat.

“Gyda will be complaining that she has to come back home. She likes sleeping over with Sigurd and Ivar far too much.” Alethia mumbled.

“Gyda also loves Garfield.” Athelstan reminded. “She is the reason the poor cat has to take baths.”

“One day, she’ll realise that cats don’t like water.” Alethia laughed, and Athelstan joined her. The thought of their daughter reminded him that there were reasons to get out of bed after all.

He threw the covers back, starting to get dressed. Alethia was still in bed, eyes closed and hair splayed out like a halo. A small smile was playing on her lips. Athelstan turned his back, washing his hands again before he grabbed his jacket from the cabinet.

Suddenly, Alethia caught his wrist.

“What is-” Athelstan began.

“You left me behind.” Alethia said, eyes filling with tears. “You left me behind!”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, Alethia, my love, I am so sorry.”

“Find me. Swear you’ll find me!”

Athelstan nodded, pulling her into his arms. She smelled of lavender and soap, and a hint of rain, like always, but to his horror, the smell was already beginning to fade. He held her tighter, as if that would stop her from disappearing. She was slipping through his fingers. He needed to-

“Find me.” Alethia whispered. “Find me, or all your sins will have been for nothing.”

Athelstan awoke with a start, a pounding headache beginning to drill his head, and the screams of Ivar doing nothing to soothe the pain. His heart was pounding in his chest, as if he had just come out of battle, and his mouth was so dry he swore ha hadn’t had anything to drink in months.

With a groan, Athelstan pulled himself up from the edge of the table in search of water. Not long after he found it, Ragnar found him, staring at Athelstan with a smirk so amused that Athelstan would have liked to wipe it off of him very much.

“What?” Athelstan groaned, his world still spinning a little. Foggily, he began to remember that Torstein had challenged him to a drinking game and Athelstan had, for unknown reasons, accepted.

“You look like one of us.”

“Like a Viking?”

“Like a lovesick, hungover fool.”

“I am not lovesick, nor am I hungover.” Athelstan lied.

“The headache will pass,” Ragnar observed in that acutely unnerving manner he possessed. “The ailment of your heart will not.”

Little shit.

“Thank you, Ragnar. Helpful, as always.” Athelstan chewed out, and he swore his jaw clicked each time he spoke.

“Come, we must train.” Ragnar said, and Athelstan let out a groan louder than he had intended.

“Do you not want to?” Ragnar asked.

“It is cold.” Athelstan pointed out.

“Ah, yes, the cold. But how else are you going to steal your bride in the coming summer?” Ragnar prodded. Athelstan could only stare blankly, before a somewhat smart thought came to mind.

“She’s not a woman that can be stolen.” Athelstan replied rather quietly, and he knew that it was true. For one, he could not steal Alethia because she was simply more skilled than him. And then, Athelstan knew that it was gentleness and love which she craved, not strength. Ragnar would not understand, for it had been the reason he had lost Lagertha.

“Then let us hope she does not loosen a bear on you.” Ragnar replied, clapping Athelstan on the back. Still, Ragnar dragged him into the cold. Athelstan heard Ivar wail again, the feeling that Ragnar was leaving the hall because of his child creeping up on him uncomfortably. Athelstan promised himself that he would help Ivar with his pains when he returned to the Great Hall.

Surely there was something Alethia had once mentioned in passign that could help. Were she here, she would have tried.

Alethia

Eadith’s labor began during a blizzard so terrible that one of the grain stores had broken under the pressure of the snow and wind. Still, Alethia had pulled herself from the humble abode she shared with a few other unmarried women and dragged herself through half the village, until, finally, a panting Heahmund raised his fist to knock on the door next to her.

It was Finnian who ripped open the door, face pale and hands shaking with fear. Eadith’s groans of pains were to be heard from the background, and Alethia pushed her meagre supplies into Finnian’s hands.

Women squat in fucking fields to have babies and survive. she told herself, but it was a sorry excuse for not having the right medicine for Eadith. It was the middle of winter, and yet, Alethia could not help but feel that she had not done enough.

“Eadith?” Alethia asked, crossing the room. Heahmund was pressed against the door uncomfortably, but Alethia had no time to take care of a soldier uncomfortable with life.

There was a groan from the back end of the house, where Eadith had lied down. Alethia pushed past a nervous, fidgeting Finnian, dropping her things at Eadith’s side.

“Breathe.” Alethia huffed, and Eadith nodded, vigorously trying to follow her advice through the pain. Alethia waved over Finnian, who stepped towards his wife gingerly.

“Hold her hand.” Alethia said.

Finnian paused. “It is not-“

“What? Common? Who cares, get over here and comfort your wife for Christ’s sake.” Alethia replied, cutting him off. Finnian hesitantly looked over to Heahmund, before he seemingly made a choice and sat on Eadith’s other side, grabbing her hand gently.

“Am I alright?” Eadith asked nervously. A sheen layer of sweet covered her forehead, and she was somewhat pale, but other than that…

“What do you think?” Alethia replied gently, shuffling through her supplies and pulling out a small piece of leather.

“Well, it hurts but…” Eadith groaned. “God, it hurts so much.”

“I know. Well, there’s a baby wanting to come into the world, so it will hurt, but I promise you, you are doing just fine. Amazingly, for a woman whose contractions are so close together.” Alethia assured.

“How many babies have you delivered, Hagar?” Eadith asked.

“Many.” Alethia lied smoothly, and that seemed to soothe Eadith’s nerves. Truth was, Alethia was the only one who came close to knowing how to help Eadith, apart from the older women in the village.

Alethia turned to Heahmund. “Go get Ethelfleda.” She snapped, referring to Eadith’s aunt, and the woman with the most children in the village. Carefully, she helped Eadith lean back, before she checked for dilation.

“You’re doing good.” Alethia assured, and Eadith nodded, her face red as she concentrated on her breathing. Alethia took her hand almost automatically. Eadith was barely a year younger than her, and yet, they were immature in such different ways.

Alethia wished she could take her pain away. Eadith did not deserve it, not when she was so good, so kind. But, Alethia supposed, this was part of what Eadith wanted. She shuddered at the thought of going through it herself.

Almost, she would have had to.

Ethelfleda burst into the house with a sharp gust of cold wind, snow still dancing outside. Heahmund pressed himself back into the wall by the entrance, but to his credit, the young priest stayed.

Alethia moved to make space for Ethelfleda, who gave her an acknowledging nod. The older woman’s look at Alethia’s supplies told her that they were satisfactory.

Like Alethia, Ethelfleda checked for dilation, before she helped Eadith count her contractions.

“You need to push.” Ethelfleda finally announced, and Alethia swallowed her fear. Eadith was going to be alright.

“Here.” Alethia said, offering Eadith a helping hand while Ethelfleda went through her supplies, pushing a thick band of leather into Eadith’s mouth. It was meant to keep men from biting off their tongues during amputations, but Alethia supposed it would suffice.

She let Eadith squeeze her wrist until Alethia was sure there was no blood left, and prayed, prayed to the God Eadith believed in that she would stay alive.

Hours later, the child was finally there. Alethia smiled at Eadith, then Ethelfleda, who did not return the expression, instead focusing on Eadith.

“There is another. You have to push again.” Ethelfleda told Eadith.

“I can’t.” Eadith cried, tear-tracks on her face, hair stuck to her skin in exhaustion.

“You have to.” Alethia said, taking the baby from Ethelfleda’s arms. She gave it to Eadith, who smiled.

“A boy.” She whispered, her face lighting up. Alethia let her bask in the moment for a few seconds, before she forced her out of it again.

“There is another.” She said, echoing Ethelfleda. Eadith shook her head.

“I’m so tired.”

“I know.” Alethia said. Carefully, she took the boy out of Eadith’s hands, who tried to struggle against Alethia. Alethia handed Finnian the baby, helping him hold his son for the first time. There was a beaming look of pride on Finnian’s face as he held the baby, unable to say anything.

Alethia’s heart ached.

She returned to Eadith’s side.

“Listen to me. I know you’re tired, Eadith, but you have to fight that now. There is another baby, just as beautiful as your son. You have to push.”

“I’ll die. It hurts so much.” Eadith replied, her hands struggling to hold onto Alethia.

“God is good. You’ll live, so will your son.” Alethia said.

“What else is there?” Eadith whispered. “If there is only God, I am still afraid. He is a man, and I am not.”

“We are women, and this is your battlefield.” Alethia replied. “Behind you, there is an army. All of them have survived what you survived. They are your sisters, your mothers, your daughters. In front of you is the darkness. Do you see it, Eadith?”

“Yes.” Eadith pressed out.

“Does it scare you?”

“Like nothing else.”

“Good. You must face that now. Go through the darkness, and come out on the other side. Fight. We are all here for you.” Alethia told her. To her right, Ethelfleda smiled up at Eadith, before squeezing her ankle in encouragement. Eadith seemed to consider Alethia’s words for a moment, before she nodded.

“Alright.” She said.

“Push.” Ethelfleda encouraged again, and in that moment, Alethia knew she could have commanded an army. It was enough to give Eadith strength.

The second child came more quickly, and again, Alethia handed him to Eadith.

“Two sons!” Eadith exclaimed happily as both of them lied in her arms. She was pale, but as Alethia checked her again, she was not bleeding profusely, nor were there any worrying tears.

“She’s alright. Healthy.” Ethelfleda said, relieved. “She deserves it.”

It is not about deserving. Alethia thought to herself, but she only nodded.

“What shall we name them?” Finnian asked Eadith.

“Jon.” Alethia blurted out before she could stop herself.

Eadith smiled. “John and Godwin.” She whispered. Heahmund, who had stayed closeby for the entire process stepped closer, quickly christening the children.

It was winter, and from the way Ethelfleda’s lips pressed together, Alethia knew the older woman did not think the two boys would make it very far.

…

By Easter, both boys were alive. Alethia helped Eadith where she could, when she did not attend to Baldwin’s bad leg or Clothilda, the little girl that was slowly losing her vision. Ethelfleda thought that she would die, too, but Alethia refused to accept that.

Her days were spent between Eadith’s house, and Clothilda’s, where she tried her best to find something the girl could do blind. She knew trying to have her work in the fields would only end in futility, and so would most of the other menial tasks in the village.

Which was how Alethia found herself speaking with Heahmund.

She had avoided the priest for a reason. He was unnerving, dangerous, and Alethia thought that he knew she did not truly believe in God.

“A nunnery?” Heahmund asked, his brows drawing together.

“Somewhere in the country where she’ll be safe from the Mercian war and the raids of the Northmen. Clothilda will never be able to work a field or herd sheep or know her way around cows properly. For all her life, the people around her will have to help her to find things, make sure she will not injure herself. What if a famine befalls the land? She’ll be the first they set out.” Alethia replied.

“Is that what you think?”

“She is the oldest of five, but she is a girl. Her father sees her as a burden. But, Clothilda is a smart girl. She’s seven years old and understands far more of the world than her peers. In a nunnery, she could find her place. You know it, and you could find her a new home.”

“What do her parents think of it?” Heahmund asked, sharpening the blade of his sword carefully.

“I have not asked them.” Alethia admitted. “I have only spoken to Clothilda.”

“I see what you do here.” Heahmund replied.

“And what is that?”

“You try to save everyone. God will save us all, you do know that, right?”

“At some point, yes.” Alethia replied rather dryly. “But he’s a little busy right now. So many poor Mercian souls.”

A smile tugged at Heahmund’s mouth as he heard her joke. Then, he regained control.

“I shall consider your words.” He promised.

“Good.”

“In return, you have to teach me.”

“Teach you what?” Alethia asked.

“That which you have kept from us. I know you have secrets. I would like to know whatever you are hiding. Did your late husband gift you that pretty knife of yours, or did you steal that yourself?”

“Are you calling me a thief?” Alethia snapped.

“Only a liar.” Heahmund replied calmly. He was right, Alethia knew that, but she could not admit it plainly.

“I’ll teach you.” She promised.

“Good. We will begin after Easter.” Heahmund said. “Good day, Hagar.”

Her late husband. She thought.

Jon. Athelstan.

One was her true late husband, the other a man she had lied to and about.

Alethia felt the guilt creep in like the cold, slowly but no less uncomfortable. It was then that she was forced to think about just how evilly she’d betrayed Jon. How long had it been after he died? Half a year? A year, perhaps? She’d already moved on, had not even forced herself to mourn.

She shook her head. No, she had mourned. She thought she still did. Jon was gone and Athelstan… he would not believed it had she told him, but he was easy to fall in love with. He was in Kattegat now, where he was free of Ecbert and the guilt of his God that haunted him here. Alethia hoped he was happy there. A part of her hoped that he would fall in love with some other woman, one that could love him as he deserved, and not one that was torn between people, times and worlds.

But it would have been wrong to tell herself that she did not hope he would come back. Of course she did. Eadith, Clothilda, Finnian, even Ethelfleda, they were all a sort of family here. These people in the village, they had taken her in, as the widow of a good Christian man.

Alethia had told them that she would leave, time and time again. None of them were thinking about that now. They were relying on her, with their aches and pains and bad legs and sore throats, and none of them were thinking about her leaving. Summer would come in a few months, and Alethia would go South. Her hair had grown back, her shoulder had healed, her scars had become more stark against her tan skin. She knew she looked even older than she had before.

Ecbert would recognize her if she shaved her head and disfigured her mouth. So would Athelstan. There was no use. Alethia knew she had to return to the villa, to Wessex, if she wanted to find the Northmen.

She loved the people in this village, there was no doubting that. But this was not her place. Alethia was meant for something bigger, and she did not think that because she was confident in her ability of fulfilling fate, but because she had been thrown around in some multiversal chaos she never otherwise would have believed in.

Alethia twirled her knife in her hands, looking back to where Heahmund had been. From the edge of the village, she could see Eadith and Finnian walking towards the fountain, and Ethelfleda guiding her children towards the church. The bells rung, and Alethia drew up her shoulders.

It was time for Easter mass.

***

Singapore was loud, hot and humid, the air heavy enough that if you came back home from holiday, you could have told you were home the moment you stepped into the airport. There was something about Alethia’s home that made it distinguishable from the rest of the world, a smell that told her just where she was.

But God, Singapore was busy as well. Alethia had gotten stuck somewhere near Orchard, on a Saturday, in a mall, and she swore that there were so many people she could barely breathe, let alone move. From the food court behind her, the smell of food made her stomach rumble, and yet, Alethia turned away, towards the escalators rolling into oblivion.

Now that she looked at them, they were kind of silly. Who came up with something like that?

Regardless, Alethia stepped onto the moving stairs, letting them transport her up until she made it to the next level. There’s a french café to her right.

‘Paul’s’, Alethia thought, the name dim in the back of her mind. ‘The place is called Paul’s. I used to go there with my mom. She bought me one of those overpriced croissants, but at least they were crispy like they’re supposed to be, and not soggy and full of grease. Once, I got a nutella crepe.

Alethia wasn’t sure why there was a lump in her throat. She just kept walking, and the brown logo over the doorway faded away. A few more turns, another hallway, and then, she stepped outside.

The street was buzzing, and Alethia was quick to cross it at a traffic light. A taxi driver stopped for her at the second road, and she raised her hand in a quick ‘thank you’ gesture. By the time she stood before the gates of the Botanical Gardens, sweat beaded her forehead.

Alethia plucked at the coat she was wearing. Why a coat? This was Singapore, not some cold, icy hellscape like the Wall, or, God forbid, Wessex in the winter.

She made a few more steps before she froze. Wessex. Singapore. The Wall. Alethia looked back up, and with a panic, she realized that the smell of home was gone. The heat was still there, and so was the greenery so typical to Botanical Gardens, but something wasn’t…

“Alethia?”

She turned around, and there stood Athelstan.

…right.

“Athelstan.” she breathed out. Each step she took towards him, the scenery changed.

Athelstan was gone again, but Alethia stood in front of a church, and she knew who waited inside. Behind her, there was a hearttree, the weeping face of an Old God carved into its bark.

The choice was simple. The Old Gods, or God. The North or Earth. Jon or Athelstan.

But the Hearttree was dying, it was so simple to see from the mold that climbed its roots. Sansa had turned out to be like that, and Jon was already dead. The church stood tall, and Athelstan was inside.

Alethia slipped into the cool dark. It was safe there, though the cross loomed from the altar.

“Child, why have you come here?” a voice asked. It belonged to Athelstan.

“I am not a child.”

“You are. A sweet summer child, a crone beyond her years.” Athelstan replied.

“I have come to… I have come to make a choice.”

“What choice?”

“I choose you, Athelstan. I am sorry.” Alethia whispered. Her words floated through the cool air, delicate whisps of nothing. The wind washed them away, and Alethia knew that they were meaningless. Athelstan wasn’t really there. There was nothing to truly confess.

Alethia walked towards the altar, too impatient to wait for Athelstan to appear.

“I am here.” Athelstan said, and Alethia turned. There he was, right in the first row, dressed in the robe of a priest with pious, folded hands. Even from where she stood, Alethia could see the scars of his crucifixion.

She touched his hands gently, like always. “I choose you.” she repeated, and Athelstan smiled.

“I knew you would.”

“You’re not real.”

“Then I am you.” Athelstan said. “Which means you always knew your answer, too.”

#vikings #history vikings #athelstan #alethia stahl #heorte til heorte #alethia x athelstan #athelstan x alethia #alestan #history vikings fanfic

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oldgvds · 7 years

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tyr | hymiskvitha, st. 6

#mythology edit #mythedit #mythologyedit #myth edit #mythology aesthetic #myth aesthetic #my edit #mythology: norse #norse mythology #ch: tyr

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terraclae · 6 years

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You know what, they're boyfriends now

#mir maunders #dragon share #flight rising #fr #ch: Ronan #ch: Tyr

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50calmadeuce · 8 months

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Ch. 7 Competition Training Day

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

You woke up the next morning and headed to the San Diego Lifeguard headquarters.

"Good morning," Lieutenant Jaason Anson said when you reached the building. "You're looking a little tired this morning."

You looked at him. Jaason stood about six feet with the typical surfer blonde hair and blue eyes, that were currently hidden behind a reflective pair of aviator glasses.

"Long weekend," you respond.

"When aren't you busy?" he asks as the two of you walk in to the building.

You had met Jason during swim practice last semester and he was the one who convinced you to apply as a lifeguard.

"Between you and Finley, I don't know who says that the most."

He had tried asking you out a few times, but you politely declined and the two of you became good friends. Then when he told you about the lifeguard competition, because he knew you would get the lifeguard job, he started helping you train for it.

You stop in front of the women's locker room and look at Jason.

He smiles. "It's going to be a great training day. I can feel it!" He yells.

You roll your eyes, open the door to the locker room and go in.

Fifteen minutes later, you walk outside in a black TYR one piece swimsuit and a black swim cap in your hand.

Jason was already outside holding a red rescue can and he looks at you from behind his aviators. "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." You answer as the two of you walk to the first lifeguard tower.

"Let's start with a slow jog down the beach. Nothing too hard. I think, no, I know you've got this. Just like I knew you'd get this job. You're a smart girl, Y/N. Shit. You have to be with your jobs."

You smile. "True."

You reached the lifeguard tower and Jason placed the rescue can on the deck. He then proceeded to take off his t-shirt, revealing his well built chest and abs, and placed that on the deck.

"You ready?"

"Yup. Let's do this."

The two of you started a slow jog down the beach.

Jake stepped out of his red Ford F-150 that he parked in the beach parking lot and looked at his watch. It was nine o'clock. He didn't want to make it seem like he was stalking you.

He was wearing black board shorts, a Navy workout tank, black sandals and a pair of Ray bans. He leisurely walked up towards the beach when he saw Y/N run out of the water and past a blonde lifeguard in red trunks and a white lifeguard tank.

The blond yelled something and he saw Y/N get so excited that she jumped into his arms and they hugged excitedly.

Jake slowly walked closer.

"Y/N! You're going to break a new record if you do this!" Jaason exclaimed. "I knew you could do it!!"

Jaason looked into your eyes and you stepped away. Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you saw Jake. You turned your head. It was Jake.

"Jake?" you question yourself and Jaason looks at you, confused.

"Jake?" he asks as you start walking towards Jake, but still standing there.

"Jake? What are you doing here?" You ask when you get near him. You feel Jaason right behind you.

"Finley said you'd be here. Why didn't you just say something? I would've understood."

You sigh. "I think it's time we talked."

"Y/N. You okay?" Jaason asks.

You turn around and look at Jaason. "Give me fifteen minutes."

"Sure. I'll be at the tower," he says and walks away.

"Come on. Let's walk."

The two of you start to leisurely walk down the beach.

"My life is hectic and complicated," you start to say. "My parents died right before I graduated high school. They left me enough to pay for college and I lucked out that my dad was a veteran, so that helped me pay for college. Along with a few grants. I'd always known I wanted to be an aquatic vet, and I worked hard to get here. I was a lifeguard and rescue diver back home and that also helped to pay for me to get here, but during that time, I met a guy." You paused a second. "I should've known, but he said all the right things, but then the right things started to become wrong. I figured out he was abusing me mentally at first and then the physical started. He was rich. His parents had money. He told me I needed to stop what I was doing and just become a trophy wife. I didn't want that, so I left one night and headed here." You paused again. "The message I got yesterday was from him. He'd found me. He probably hired a private investigator." You stopped and looked at him. "You don't want to get involved with me."

Jake stepped closer and cupped a hand on the side of your face. "Y/N. You are the most intriguing person I've ever met. Also the first to make me feel like I'd lost my dating game."

You chortle.

"I think I'll make that decision," he said as he pulled you close and his mouth was on yours. Sweet and caring. He had a calming smell of beer and leather, but you sensed a side of toughness and cockiness.

When you parted he looked at you, his green eyes caring. "I've been wanting to do that since yesterday at your truck."

You grin.

"HELP!!" You hear someone yell and you quickly look out at the water.

"HELP!!" You hear again and then you see a person pointing towards the water and then see Jaason running towards you with a rescue can.

"Let's go! I called it in!" he says as you grab the rescue can and leave Jake standing there as you run towards the water.

You and Jaason run into the water, leap into the waves, and towards the area you saw the person pointing at. When you get there, you look at Jaason.

"She's gone under. I got this." You take a deep breath and dive.

The water here was probably about ten feet deep. Thankfully the current wasn't too bad today and the water was pretty clear.

You spotted the girl slowly sinking to the bottom and quickly swam to her. You grabbed her under the arms and started swimming back up to Jaason's feet. When you broke the surface, you looked at him.

"She's out. Let's go."

The two of you started swimming towards the beach and as soon as you hit the sand, you laid the girl on her back.

The rescue team was on it's way.

You check her vitals. "No pulse and no breathing. Starting CPR," you say and give the girl two breaths and then start chest compressions.

The rescue squad arrived and a male guard ran up to you with an AED machine. You check for a pulse again.

"Still no pulse," you say as the guard starts taking out the pieces on the machine.

"Stand back," the male guard said as he pushed start on the AED machine.

"My baby!" a female voice yelled and you saw Jaason get up and head towards the voice.

You started concentrating on the AED machines directions. You gave the girl another two breaths of air and the machine shocked the girl.

All of a sudden, the girl spit out water and started coughing.

"Pulse detected," the machine said.

"Mommy!" the young girl said.

"I'm right here, Amelia." A woman's voice responded.

"I got this, Y/N," the male from the rescue squad said.

"Thanks, Vince." You get up and walk over to Jake. "I've got to do the report and then I'm done for the day. You can leave if you want."

"I'm staying right here," he responds.

You shrug. "Suit yourself. Let me finish this up and I'll be right back."

"Take your time. This is your job."

You smile and head back to the scene.

Jake had waited patiently outside after the near drowning and also after you wrote your report in the building. You walked out of the building back in regular clothes with Jaason next to you and he points to Jake when you get outside.

"So, are you going to introduce me to your friend?" Jaason asks.

"Jaason, this is Jake. Jake this is Jaason," you say to the both of them.

The two of them shake hands and Jaason looks at you again.

"And how are you two related?"

"I'm Y/N's boyfriend," Jake responds quickly.

Jaason raises and eyebrow. "Boyfriend? I didn't think..."

"It's a long story, Jaason," you respond.

"Well, you'll have to tell me about it sometime. Other than that, I think you're good with the competition next weekend." He looks at Jake. "Will you be there?"

Jake smiles. "Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Well, it was nice meeting you." He looks at you. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yup."

Jaason walks off and you turn to Jake. "Girlfriend?"

"What Hangman wants, Hangman gets," he responds with a sexy grin and you laugh.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #glen powell #hangman top gun #top gun maverick hangman #hangman #hangman fanfic #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick

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