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silantryoo · 30 days

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BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — goodbye, my danish sweetheart.

yoo jimin, third year

WARNINGS; objectification, outing, mentions of homophobia, mentions of sexual acts, self-sabotage, cheating, mentions of coercion, power imbalance, victim blaming (2.5k)

yoo jimin hasn't looked in a mirror since alex had left the team.

her best friend, the girl that she trusted, slept with the girl she loved. she didn't care whether or not alex was drunk, whether it was before anything went down between her and yeji.

she knew how jimin felt, how yeji was there for her during her injury, how much their captain helped her. jimin had even told alex how her stomach fluttered whenever she and their captain talked, and how her heart seemed to combust at the thought of yeji visiting her at the hospital.

alex should've known.

"she left the team."

a string of words, one of which should've given her a sense of relief. she longed for the euphoria, and the heavy weight from her chest lifted. jimin thought she would finally breathe the clean air she had desperately wished for.

it was poison, fire and acid mixed and poured down her throat. her lungs burnt, scarred as she struggled to breathe.

it was not only the air, but everything she touched. every surface - steel, metal, skin - seemed to bubble under her corrosive touch. all of the things she touched enveloped in the concoction that plagued her being.

guilt.

jimin had never felt as angry as she ever did. the lava that laid dormant inside her body could no longer sit still. everything had led up to the destruction of her and those around her.

alexandra baek was yoo jimin's best friend.

she knew her secrets, the lengths the younger girl would go to just to hide them. the things the younger volleyball player kept behind a locked door, she willingly let jimin have access to. it was eerily similar, the terror of disappointment shrouded alex the same way it did jimin.

jimin knew her weaknesses, all of them, even the ones that would ruin the younger girl's life.

"why is alex avoiding you?" aeri scrolled through her phone, and jimin could see her reading their texts over. "did you threaten her or something?"

threaten? no, jimin did much worse.

"i didn't."

aeri huffed, clearly not pleased with her answer. she thought this stupid feud would blow over. jimin cherished the younger girl, much like a sister.

she wouldn't throw that away for anyone, much less yeji.

"look, i know the whole thing with yeji is shit right now," aeri started, mentally noting the understatement. "and you're probably pissed at her for leaving the team, but she needs you right now."

jimin closed her eyes, picturing the creature she found staring back at her a few weeks ago. the one with soulless eyes, void of guilt, of compassion. dark brown eyes that only burned rage.

it was her father's eyes in her own.

"jimin..."

she didn't know why she felt like that, why it felt so good to finally erupt, to cause harm and hurt others the way they hurt her.

she was still a good person. jimin knew she had to be. this was just a momentary slip. it was just an accidental mishap.

"jimin." aeri sighed. "her parents found out."

guilt.

she knew.

she was the one who told the baek's about their daughter's fling. jimin had heard the slurs that were thrown over the phone, damning their own child for the things she felt.

she knew, she did it.

shin yuna was getting prettier each day.

she couldn't help but notice how the younger girl seemed to shine on court as of late. she liked the way yuna walk around like she owned the place, even though she clearly didn't. the way she silently smirked to herself whenever she got a kill lured jimin in.

it was like watching herself, without having to look at what she was becoming.

yeji glanced at her ace, grinning at the predatory look in her eye. it was refreshing to see jimin like this, void of morals and thinking only about what would please her.

it was only a matter of time.

"nice view?"

jimin recoiled, eyes harsh on her captain, watching her smirk. she hated how yeji seemed to think that the two of them were similar. of course, she found shin yuna attractive. it was shin yuna.

sue her for staring at yuna's legs.

jimin grumbled under her breath, walking away from yeji and sitting on the bench, near the others.

"bitch."

she couldn't believe that she dated that monster.

"that's odd." yuna stretched, and jimin felt a gnawing pit in her stomach. "yeji-sunbae's usually nice."

the girls in the vicinity glanced at her.

the yeji they knew was angry, hot-headed and rude. she'd rather rip your head off then say thank you for holding the door open. more often than not, yeji actually did yell at you for holding the door open.

"that's only because she wants to sleep with you, yuna." haewon shook her head, drinking from her bottle.

"you think so?" the freshman sat up, smiling coyly. "i mean, i am pretty hot."

jimin's eyes shot to yuna's smile, and she found herself clenching her jaw, biting back a hum of agreement.

what was she doing? she already had y/n. jimin didn't need more. maybe she craved more, but she would never ever cheat.

jimin calmed herself. finding one of her teammates attractive wasn't cheating. she didn't have any romantic feelings for the younger girl, anyway. it was just curiosity.

if jimin happened to imagine yuna in her bed from time to time, so what?

"that's not something to be proud of." chaeryeong muttered. she couldn't believe this was her crush's younger cousin. "that's like being happy a serial killer chose to kill you because you'd look pretty dying."

yuna shrugged. "and?"

"god." haewon could only sigh. out of everyone she's ever met, yuna seemed to be the most insane sane person. "i hope they don't make you captain next year."

jimin frowned, drowning them out as she took her shoes off.

she needed to stop letting yeji get to her. for as long as she's known her, yeji always pushed jimin's buttons. it was endearing at first, yeji claiming that she liked when jimin's eyebrows furrowed, how cute she looked when she frowned.

jimin didn't realize until now that yeji just liked pissing her off. she liked mentally tormenting her for some sick reason. the way the captain shoved her flaws in her face was to anger her, because it was funny.

it wasn't, and it never has been.

she didn't want to focus on yeji, not anymore. not when jimin had finally gotten the perfect girl, the girl that everyone had wanted.

l/n y/n.

she was adorable, caring in a way that jimin had never experienced. she'd constantly check on the older girl, asking about the little things that jimin didn't even think of.

the other day, y/n had even asked her if she ate. when jimin said no, she suggested that the two of them should go out together for food.

she had never experienced that type of care, considering yeji was her first and only relationship before y/n.

jimin glanced at wonyoung, sparing her a glare in which the younger girl returned by the tenfold.

jang wonyoung lucked out. it was a good thing jimin had managed to take what's rightfully hers.

"jimin-sunbae?" yuna asked, pulling jimin's gaze away from the heiress. "you took history of classical dance right?"

jimin nodded. "for my elective, yeah."

"do you have the notes?" yuna's voice sounded sweet, like a peach waiting to be eaten. "i have it this year and gaeul-sunbae refuses to give them to me."

"it's better to learn and write the notes yourself." gaeul muttered, putting on sweats over her shorts. "i told you, if you need help understanding the material after, i can help you study-"

"no." yujin tensed, her voice tight. her once expressive eyes turned firey as she looked at yuna. "i don't want yuna in our dorm. she might steal."

jimin rolled her eyes. yujin had been guarding gaeul like a dog since yeji managed to get her hands on the setter.

(she didn't understand how yeji could go from her to gaeul, considering the two were only similar in vulnerability.)

"i will not!" yuna whined, jimin's ears burning red. "maybe gaeul-sunbae's heart but-"

yujin paused, her body tense as she stood up from the bench. her fists were clenched, and her body language seemed to read pure rage, but jimin could see the way her lip quivered.

"excuse me?"

pain.

jimin had been feeling that recently, too.

"unnie," wonyoung muttered, tugging yujin's hand. jimin could see gaeul purse her lips, and it didn't take a genius to understand why. "sit down before gaeul-unnie scolds you."

yujin grumbled, begrudgingly sitting back down in between gaeul and wonyoung. the oldest of the three seemed down all of a sudden, and jimin wondered how gaeul could stand to be near wonyoung when all she did was take yujin's attention.

jimin hoped that one day, gaeul would wake up and face the horror that was jang wonyoung.

"i can give it to you tomorrow."

"i'll just drop by later." jimin froze. "my first exam's next week."

she didn't know why, but the thought of having yuna in her dorm set her skin on fire. jimin felt like she was suddenly lit by a match, her brain running wild.

she shook her head. jimin didn't need anything else but y/n. the volleyball player felt so emotionally fulfilled by the younger girl, even when their kisses felt empty and when y/n's words felt half-hearted.

"why'd you wait so long?" haewon knew that yuna was gonna bomb the test. "you're gonna fail at this rate."

still, it wouldn't hurt to urge aeri out, to make sure she spends the night with whoever the hell she meets at the club.

"yujin said that i have plenty of time to study."

besides, jimin didn't like yuna. nothing was going to happen.

she wasn't yeji, nor was she her father.

"yujin probably as a 0.1 gpa."

she wasn't a monster.

"i do not!"

even if her mirror told her otherwise.

the most painful thing about the divorce was watching her father leave.

he had gotten her a maroon luggage when she had accepted suma's offer. it was embezzled with a gold zipper, and a metal handle that gleamed against bright light. she took it with her on her first year, putting all her belongings snug inside. she used it to go back home, when her acl ripped in half and she could no longer play.

jimin had also watched it get taken away when her father packed in a rush, her mother crying on their bed begging him to stay, to love them instead of his mistress.

jimin knew if he did, she would have forgiven him.

staying was more important in the end.

a soft knock on the door rattled throughout jimin's empty dorm. she sat up, dressed in semi-decent clothes, breathable and easy to take off.

jimin reached for the door, opening it.

"sunbae."

nothing was gonna happen. she wasn't gonna cheat, especially not with yuna. jimin would never abuse her status, nor disregard her relationship like that.

but something burnt within her, something that resembled her father on a tuesday afternoon.

"yuna, hey." jimin could hear her voice echoing back in her ears, and she wasn't so sure why it sounded so... ravenous. "i left the notes on my desk. you can just grab them."

yuna nodded, her eyes trailing jimin's figure as she stepped inside. the room buzzed with a dull hum as jimin closed the door behind her, yuna walking up to her senior's desk.

jimin walked next to the younger girl, capturing her perfect side profile and ingraining it in her brain.

"how tall are you?"

there was a light in her eyes, something that jimin used to see in hers. it gleamed brightly, reflecting all yuna's wants of perfection, of hope - all of which jimin knew would amount to nothing.

she wanted to be the first one to crush it, to ruin it.

"i'm 169cm." yuna grinned, standing up a little straighter to brag. "my mom said i'm still growing though, so i'm hoping to reach 170cm next sem."

she didn't care about the consequences, not right now. jimin just wanted to break the mirror.

"your mom said that?" it was adorable how yuna seemed so pure with every intention, and jimin couldn't help but wonder if there was something more sinister underneath. "you're cute."

jimin grabbed the binder of notes, her fingertips brushing against the younger girl's as she handed it over.

yuna's eyes glazed over as she froze, and jimin couldn't hear anything but her heartbeat.

just like before, on the phone with the baek's, all she felt was power - an adrenaline rush that overrode her senses. she couldn't feel the pain, nor the guilt.

all she felt was a high like she was midjump, where her eyes were above the net, looking down at everyone who looked down on her.

jimin leaned it, her lips gently on yuna's.

yuna pulled back abruptly, a tug of confusion worming through the lust she felt. "i thought you were with someone."

jimin should've felt guilty. she should've snapped out of it and apologized, ushering yuna out and immediately sending an apology to y/n about what transpired.

"does that bug you?" she whispered, feeling her breath bounce back off of yuna's lips.

she couldn't find it in herself to care anymore, not when it felt this good.

"...no."

jimin deserved to feel good once in a while.

their limbs tangled as yuna lay naked, asleep on top of jimin.

the volleyball player stared at the ceiling, her mind whirling with the guilt that seemed to multiply with each breath her junior took.

jimin closed her eyes, tears falling from the sides of her face.

it felt good to have control, to watch someone wither and plead, begging her to instill whatever she wanted onto them. she liked the way yuna was under her, both metaphorically and physically. it gave her a high that no one, not even y/n could provide.

it was like ruining herself, punishing herself for everything wrong with her life.

still, the guilt managed to burrow its way through.

she wondered if y/n would react the same way as her mother, or if she would go run back to wonyoung, tears in her eyes as she cried and cried.

she couldn't let that happen,

besides, it wasn't actually cheating. jimin never once let yuna touch her. she would never let anyone but the girl she was with strip her power away from her.

even if she did, jimin would never think once about leaving y/n.

y/n was everything she wanted, in soul, body, and mind. she'd be stupid to ruin the trophy that she had worked so hard to win.

jimin wasn't her father. she wasn't going to leave. she was a good person, searching for good things in her life.

she shouldn't feel guilty. she had nothing to feel sorry for. jimin did nothing wrong. she couldn't have, otherwise, she was no better than her deadbeat father.

she wasn't her father. she couldn't be, she wouldn't let herself be.

jimin closed her eyes, drowning out the sound of yuna's breathing.

rage had consumed yoo jimin, and there was no turning back.

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whitedarkmoonflower · 3 months

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Traitor

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: a big thank you to awesome and incredible @little-diable for having the wonderful and crazy idea to write this together. I loved it so much! You are such an amazing writer.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, angst

Summary: you thought you had been prepared for everything as you were sent to spy on Uhtred, until the moment you met a certain Danish warrior

Word Count: 4,8 K

Headers and dividers by the lovely @arcielee

If you want to be added to or removed from the tag list - write to me.

I'm not sure if this letter will ever get to you or if you'll even want to read it. But I couldn't leave without saying goodbye.

You probably already know, and it's true. I was sent to spy on Lord Uhtred, on orders from Lord Wihtgar, Uhtred’s cousin and the current ruler of Bebbanburg.

I came here as a spy and an enemy, full of suspicion, hate and disdain. I was sent to spy on a traitor of his own kin, on a heathen teamed up with the Danes to try and bring down my Lord, the rightful ruler of Bebbanburg.

But now, as I'm leaving, I want you to know I'm going as a friend and an ally, even if you can't quite believe it, even if you all rightfully see me as a traitor.

These past few months have taught me so much - about trust, relying on others, feeling accepted, and being valued. But most importantly, I've learned what it means to be loved.

I'm sorry. I know it's not enough, and it never will be…

"It's all blurred and smudged from here. I can't decipher it," Osferth looked up from the small piece of vellum he held in his hands. His gaze wandered around the dimly lit room before settling on the silhouette seated at the table, with elbows propped up and head resting on hands, fingers entwined in hair.

"Read it once more," Sihtric growled, his voice rough and slightly trembling.

"I've already read it to you five times. What do you expect to uncover?" Osferth shrugged. The sound of the bench falling echoed as Sihtric suddenly sprang to his feet, knocking it over and grabbed the cup from the table, draining it in a few hasty gulps. He stood there for a moment, examining it in his hand. Moments later, the cup was hurled to the ground with such force that it shattered into countless small pieces, causing Osferth to flinch.

"Nothing," venom dripped from Sihtric's voice, "I'm a fool, a damned idiot. How could I not see it? How could I be so blind?" he roared before storming out of the room.

It had been surprisingly easy, much easier than you had anticipated. It appeared that Uhtred had a soft spot for taking in masterless dogs and those less fortunate. All it took was a heart-wrenching tale of being captured by Scots as a child and raised as a warrior to win his acceptance. You couldn't help but feel a sense of disdain for his kind-heartedness and naivety. He truly didn't deserve to be called a Lord.

A Lord should be stern and ruthless, someone who instilled fear in their subordinates, devoid of the lower emotions like love and compassion that made people vulnerable to manipulation. This was what you had been taught, ingrained in you since childhood, nurtured by your mother's milk, and enforced by your father's strict hand.

You happened to be the sole child of Bebbanburg's commandant and the trusted right hand of Lord Ælfric Uhtredson. Your father had always yearned for a son, but fate had dealt him a different hand – a daughter, a fragile and small creature with large, inquisitive eyes and infectious laughter.

The carefree and joyful days of your childhood came to an abrupt end when your father finally acknowledged your existence. Around the age of ten, as it became apparent that your mother would not provide the male heir he so desperately desired, your father’s attention shifted to you.

And now, here you were – a grown woman, a trained warrior, and a cunning spy, with deep and sorrowful eyes, and a laughter that had been absent from your life for years. This was how you entered the service of Lord Uhtred.

“You’ve got a knack for it,” Finan chuckled approvingly, and you saw his hand extending towards you to help you up from the ground. You hesitated, uncertain if he genuinely meant it, half-expecting him to withdraw his hand at the last moment, his warm smile giving way to a mocking grin. He had bested you fair and square. Again. Finan the Agile, they called him, and rightly so.

He had the appearance of a large, affable bear, with warm brown eyes, that always seemed to twinkle mischievously. What a deception! That man moved as swiftly as lightning. Despite investing all your strength, skill, and effort, you found yourself seated in the dirt, gasping for breath. The surprise in your eyes was impossible to conceal as you kept glancing at his outstretched hand. Even though you knew by now that his hand would remain there, that you could rely on it and you could trust it not to turn against you, old habits died hard, etched into your very bones, causing you to hesitate once more.

Finally, you mustered the courage to grasp it, allowing Finan to help you to your feet. "That move earlier, when you suddenly changed direction and lunged to my left, almost caught me off guard. That was impressive," the bearded Irishman continued, his genuine smile unwavering. He retrieved your sword and handed it back to you. "Ready for another round?"

You thought you were prepared for anything. You were ready to fight for your place among the warriors, anticipating challenges and the disdain that comes with being an outsider, a newcomer, and a woman. You were prepared for the sly glances, whistles, and crude remarks, for unwelcome advances and dirty hands trying to grope you. Having been raised in the world of men, you knew their ways well.

"Hey, let the lady catch her breath," Osferth's ever-cheerful voice echoed across the yard as he approached with a pitcher and ale mugs in his hands. The shy former monk was undoubtedly the most peculiar addition to the pack around Uhtred. Why was he even carrying a sword? He seemed clueless about how to use it. Initially, you assumed he might be warming someone's bed, but it soon became evident that this was not the case.

There was no logical explanation for his presence in a warriors' camp, but there he was, offering a bashful smile as he filled the mugs with ale and handed the first one to you. You couldn't deny the calming and radiant aura that accompanied him, something intangible, something elusive that defied explanation. Always courteous and attentive, unwavering in his faith in God's benevolence, he carried the weight of being born out of wedlock with quiet dignity and bestowed genuine kindness upon those around him.

You had believed you were prepared for anything – ready to endure contempt and hatred, to withstand pain and humiliation, to employ your body as both a weapon and allure. You had experienced it all, endured it all, and each time emerged stronger. But there was one thing you hadn't been prepared for – to be accepted just as you were, to be treated with respect and appreciation. Friendship and loyalty had taken you by surprise, and above all, you had never anticipated being cared for and loved.

Love. It had been an empty word, devoid of real meaning to you. In this cursed world where power, authority, and control were the sole currencies of worth, there was no room for something as seemingly foolish as love. How could you have prepared for it when you had never felt it?

Love didn't strike you suddenly, nor did it assault your senses and reason. You might have recognized it then if it had. Instead, it arrived slowly, subtly, through tentative glances and concealed smiles, in the hesitant brush of fingers. It infiltrated your everyday life as helping hands to maintain your weapons or carry your saddlebag, as a casual shift to the side, making room for you at the fire, as unassuming inquiries when you appeared tired or unwell. The genuine care and attention that the reserved and initially withdrawn young Dane with that stern and piercing gaze framed by two mismatched eyes offered so effortlessly and unpretentiously wrapped around you like a soft, welcoming blanket. It dulled your wariness, dazzled you like freshly brewed ale, and you fell for it without regret.

“Fuck,” you moaned, eyes squeezed shut, hands pressed against the cold ground. You were lying flat on your back, unable to take another step. It had been a foolish mistake, really, one second you had tried to prove to the guys how easy it was to balance one too many cups of ale in your hands, the next you had found yourself on the ground. One of the other drunken guys had rammed into you, forcing you to the ground without another warning.

It had taken you a few seconds to realise what was going on, blinking the tears away that welled up in your eyes due to the pain sticking to your foot. Voices had echoed in your ears, growing louder by the second, forcing you to at least try and sit up. All you could do was watch how Finan had to hold back Sihtric, who was about to tear the guy to shreds.

You had murmured Sihtric’s name, hoping to catch his attention. If there was one thing you hated, it was being the centre of attention – and being the reason for a fight amongst the guys would definitely put you further into the said centre. It had taken Finan a few moments to get some distance between Sihtric and the guy, forcing the Dane to finally focus on you.

“Can you stand?” Sihtric had kneeled in front of you, worried eyes flickering between yours and the hurt ankle you pressed your hand against. A whimper had left you as you had to rise, plopping back to the ground with a huff. There was no use in denying the shame thumping through your veins, filling every inch of your body. Only as Sihtric had placed his hand on your chin, redirecting your gaze towards him, had you managed to look at the handsome Dane again, sending him a smile.

“Up you go.” Without another warning, Sihtric had picked you up, strong arms wrapped around your cold body. The shriek that had clawed through you had left Finan and Osferth laughing, watching Sihtric carry you towards the tent he was supposed to sleep in.

And now here you were, placed on the warm fur, eyes studying the Dane’s every move. You could tell that something was holding Sihtric back, not daring to touch you for more than a handful of moments, pulling away whenever his eyes found yours as if your mere closeness set fire through his body. It frustrated you, seeing him this weary, scared to touch your already battered body.

“Sihtric,” you murmured his name, once again sitting up to be closer to him. Your hand darted out to find his warm cheek, trying not to pay the way he seemed to hold his breath too much of your attention. Slowly your thumb began to move, stroking his soft skin, the small marks and scars littering his cheeks, marks you couldn’t help but admire. He emanated strength and danger, and yet you felt awfully safe around him, knowing that he’d always protect you – should you need it.

With your breath hitched in your chest, it took you a moment to realise what was happening. Sihtric had pressed his lips against yours, hand placed on the back of your head to keep you close, not daring to let you go. Your heart was racing, torn between excitement and confusion, since you had hoped you’d eventually find yourself in a situation like this, and yet you haven’t dared to overthink it much.

“I am sorry.” Suddenly he pulled away, trying to get some distance between the two as if you were some addicting poison he needed to stay away from. Your wide pupils followed his every haste movement, not understanding what was going on. “You’re hurt, I shouldn’t touch you, not like this.”

A soft laugh broke out of you, hand reaching out for him to pull Sihtric in for another kiss. The moan that clawed through him left you grinning against his mouth, slowly parting your lips to deepen the kiss. You found yourself pressed against the fur, with Sihtric hovering over you. Neither of you dared to break the kiss this time, not as his hands began to work on your clothes, not as you fought against the need to arch your back to let go of a deep moan.

“I want to take care of you, take away your pain. Will you let me?” His raspy voice shot shudders down your spine, eyes rolling back into your head the second his warm mouth found your chest. All you could do was moan his name, teeth running along your lower lip to somewhat try to be quiet, not wanting to attract the attention of nearby drunkards. Expectedly he sucked on your hardening nubs, grinning whenever you choked on his name. “My pretty shieldmaiden, the fiercest warrior I aim to claim.”

“Gods, Sihtric, more. Please.” Sihtric blindly followed your choked command, kissing his way down to your heat. You were dripping for him, needing to feel his hands and mouth on you before he could fuck you like you had dreamt of him doing for a while now. The way he groaned at your taste left you clenching around nothing, fingers holding onto the furs to try and ground yourself.

His colourful eyes watched you intently, not wanting to miss one single expression, telling him all about how you felt buried beneath him, with his mouth on you. You felt as if you were drowning, clinging to every breath you were allowed to inhale, close to passing out. But Sihtric was determined, wanting to push the most sinful yet most beautiful sensation through your body.

“I must have pleased the Gods for being allowed to feel you this close, you’re mine now.” A hum left you, unable to reply with words as he forced two fingers into your tightness. Your walls clenched around him, telling him that you were already close. The grin he wore on his lips was devilish as he spoke up once again, “Say it, say that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, fuck, only yours.” Your eyes rolled back into your head as you came on his fingers, whimpering his name. Sihtric’s thumb kept circling your pulsing bundle, prolonging the intense sensations for a few more moments. For a second it felt as if you were reborn, heart racing too fast, palms sweaty from the way you had tried to hold onto the furs.

You tried to rise from your position, wondering what he’d do next, but Sihtric kept you pressed to the ground, looking like Loki himself, the trickster with a grin that could fool anybody. With wide eyes, you watched Sihtric undress, leathers plopping to the ground to expose his carefully chiselled muscles, gracing his stomach, his arms, and his thighs. All you could do was choke on your breath as your eyes focused on his hard cock, begging for your touch, to feel you wrapped around him.

“I promised to take care of you, but I won’t be gentle, not when I’ve got you buried beneath me like that.” Sihtric’s voice dripped with possessiveness, lust, and excitement, once again leaving you covered in goosebumps. You nodded, unable to speak up as his mouth found yours, kissing you breathless while he aligned himself with your cunt. “Hold onto me, mark me up.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, clawing your fingernails into his warm skin, adding more scars to the ones he had collected on battlefields. And yet he’d be prouder of the ones you added than any other, he’d fight any war if it meant getting to be with you. The both of you moaned in unison as he pushed into you, forcing your walls to adjust to his size.

Sihtric hadn’t lied, he wasn’t soft, wasn’t sweet, no, he fucked you like a man on a mission, a man who followed his lord’s commands. And you loved every moment of it, every rough thrust that managed to set your body ablaze, every thrust that left you choking on the air you were desperate for. Your nails left bloody marks down his shoulders, holding onto him as he fucked you on the fur, hoping that this was the first of many nights you’d spent on this fur together.

“You feel so good around me like the gods have crafted you for me, mine to own, mine to love.” Sihtric’s words almost drew tears to your eyes, desperately wanting to reply, to tell him about your feelings, but you couldn’t. You were too far gone, once again close to falling off the edge. With one last kiss pressed to your lips, you came, moaning his name into the cold night. Sihtric fucked you through your release, groaning into the crook of your neck as he came only a few seconds later.

You both panted heavily, slowly coming down from your highs, as your foggy mind gradually cleared, and your hazy gaze locked onto Sihtric's mismatched eyes.

This was the moment you always hated the most - the moment of harsh and uncomfortable truth, filled with awkward glances, whispered words, and hurried, clumsy movements. It was the time when one inevitably left, fumbling for clothes and murmuring promises that were never meant to be kept.

You had been on both sides often enough; it was neither new nor unexpected to you. However, for perhaps the first time in your life, you felt an inexplicable emotion creeping beneath your skin. It drove you to dig your fingers into the plush, sweat-soaked furs beneath you, restraining the impulse to pathetically wrap your arms around Sihtric's shoulders in a desperate attempt to keep him from leaving.

Sihtric crushed down beside you, his breath ragged, and his strong arms instinctively encircled you, pulling your back flush against his chest as though he feared you might disappear.

"Will you stay with me?" a hoarse whisper brushed against your ear, igniting a new sense of life within you.

"I couldn't leave even if I wanted to," you chuckled softly.

"Do you want to?"

"No, I don't," you whispered, turning to face him.

"Good, because I don't want you to either," Sihtric murmured, pressing his lips against yours.

I'm sorry I never found the courage to say these words to you. I always thought there would be enough time for that.

I just hope you felt it, I hope you sensed it, how much I loved you. And I still do. I want you to know that will never change. I will always love you, until my very last breath.

Tears welled up in your eyes, falling onto the vellum before you.

Muffled noises from outside caught your attention, and you hastily rolled it up, inadvertently smudging the ink where your tears had fallen. Time was running out; you had to leave. There had always been rumours of Uhtred having his own spies in Bebbanburg, though no one had ever managed to prove them. Today, you had seen him - the blacksmith from Bebbanburg, here in Rumcofa, in Uhtred’s hall. You had tried to hide, but it had been too late. He had seen you, his eyes glued to your pale face, as your heart frantically drummed against your ribs. He had recognized you, just as you had recognized him, and in that moment when your eyes met, you knew your mission had reached its end.

It was too late to confess your true purpose for coming here. You had wanted to reveal your real identity so many times, but the right moment had never seemed to come. And now, it was too late. Your past life had caught up with you, its cold, bony fingers slowly closing around your throat. You didn’t want to leave, but you couldn't stay.

Silence, absolute silence enveloped you, devoid of any sound—no voices, no footsteps, no creaking doors. There was nothing to attract your attention, it was as if the world itself had stilled, allowing your thoughts to flutter through your mind like startled birds, beating against the cage of your consciousness. You had never imagined that silence could be so agonisingly painful, so suffocating.

He will not come! He hates and detests you! You deserve it! The cruel voice echoed in your head, driving you to cover your ears with your hands. Growls of frustration escaped your lips, reverberating against the thick walls of Bebbanburg's dungeon, as you attempted to silence the relentless taunting.

Bebbanburg had fallen, or rather, it had been reclaimed by its rightful owner. You had always known this moment would come, understood that Uhtred would never relinquish his birthright, his lands, or the fortress of his ancestors. You had simultaneously dreaded and longed for this day, aware that it would spell both your doom and your salvation. And now, it was a reality.

God as your witness, you had tried to forget him. You had attempted to banish him from your thoughts, to expel the longing from your mind. For a time, you had even believed you had succeeded, drowning your yearning and hunger for Sihtric's touch, for his commanding yet gentle voice whose orders you had been so eager to obey, for the stern yet loving gaze of his mismatched eyes that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

But the moment you laid eyes on him and Finan on the upper walkway, flanked by guards, you knew it had all been an illusion. You knew you had failed utterly. Your hand shot up instinctively, covering your mouth to stifle the scream threatening to erupt from your chest.

As if in a haze, you recalled following the guards, sneaking into the dungeon—this very dungeon whose walls you had been pounding in anger and despair for the past few hours, leaving your knuckles raw and bleeding. Then, like a bolt of lightning carrying God's wrath, like a spear hurled by an enemy's hand, it struck you. The coldness in Sihtric's gaze as he lifted his eyes from the lifeless bodies of the guards on the floor to meet yours froze the words forming on your lips, causing them to hang in the air before shattering into a thousand pieces upon the ground.

"You?" was the sole word that escaped Finan's lips as you swiftly cut through the ropes binding their hands, yet even that was laden with disdain and revulsion. You had shown them the way out, the concealed passage to the main hall, and they had left—no words exchanged, no glances shared, no turning back—just silence, relentless silence. The same oppressive silence lingered as Ælfwynn and Hild departed the fortress through the small, secret door you had revealed to them. Traitor, her eyes had silently screamed at you.

You could have fled, escaped, started anew far from this cursed fortress, far from everyone who governed your life. You could have been free. Yet, as tempting as it was, you knew there was no escaping yourself, no escaping the searing shame and longing that had gnawed at you from within all this time. You couldn't leave, not again.

It was Sihtric's hands that seized you, wrenching you to your feet and twisting your arms behind your back when they found you seated in the main hall, awaiting their arrival. You offered no resistance; the touch of him, even as his eyes blazed with hatred, sent shivers down your spine, and you allowed yourself to be dragged to the dungeon in silence. What could you say? How could you explain the inexplicable?

Leaning back against the cold and unforgiving stone wall, you felt the rugged surface digging into your skin even through your clothes as you slowly sank to the ground. Here you were, locked up in the dark and soundless cells beneath Bebbanburg, waiting for something you knew would never come. Closing your eyes, you let the silence envelop you, to become a part of you, to seep into your soul. You were alone, yet strangely, you felt free. No more lies, no more disguise. Just you.

A creaking sound reached your ears, and you slowly, almost unwillingly, opened your eyes to meet whoever had decided to disturb your silence.

“I should have known.” You’d always recognise his voice, wrapping itself around you like the warm summer breeze. But now it wasn’t warm, no, it was set on freezing you, leaving marks that would forever remind you of your betrayal. Your eyes watched his every move, wondering, perhaps even fearing, that he’d step even closer.

God, how could you have betrayed the man who owned your heart? Why did you keep quiet, when he was right there to hold you, to take away your pain?

“A traitor, good for nothing. I should be ashamed that I touched you.” At first, his words hurt you, cutting deeper than the swords he had held before ever could. But the more you pondered on them, the more you found yourself focusing on the “should” that had rolled off his tongue.

“Should?” It was just a whisper leaving you, and yet it was enough to draw a sigh from Sihtric. He unlocked the cell and stepped into the small space you were forced to call your own.

“As much as I want to hate you for betraying my lord, for betraying my family, for betraying me I can’t. The Gods know how much I tried to.” Sihtric crouched down in front of you, his differently coloured eyes wandering over your features, unable to bite down the smile that tugged on his lips as you leaned closer. Carefully he cupped your cold cheek, pondering on his next move.

“I am sorry, so very sorry.” All he did was hum, dipping his head down to kiss you. You knew that he wouldn’t forgive you easily, but yet you hoped that he’d learn to, no matter what it took, you’d do it if it meant regaining his trust. Within seconds you were pulled to your feet, front pressed against the cold stones, away from him.

The whine rumbling through you left Sihtric chuckling, a sound so familiar and yet it dripped with something you weren’t used to, something dark, something that left your body covered in goosebumps. You wanted to look at him, it had been too many hours since you had last gotten the chance to, but Sihtric didn’t loosen his grip, not even as he freed you from the fabrics and leathers covering your body.

“You’ll take my cock and you’ll thank me for it. It’s the least you can do.” The sob that left you was almost pathetic, torn between the arousal thumping through your veins and the fear holding you hostage. Would he ever forgive you? Would he ever ask you to tell your side of the story? Thoughts that were lost the second he pushed into you from behind.

It had been too long since Sihtric had last touched you, and yet your body clung to him, begging him to keep on going, to fuck you like you were his. God, how much you wanted to be his, the one to care for, the one who’d hold you close whenever you needed him to. The way he moaned into your ear, hand placed over your mouth to keep you quiet, made you shudder in need.

“Fuck, they could hang me for humping a traitor, but you feel too good, you always have.” His pleasure-drunken words made you clench around him, eyes squeezed shut to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks. This was your fault, your wrongdoing, and now you were paying the price, taking the cock of the man you loved, while he called you a traitor.

You whimpered his name, unable to keep on speaking as his cock nudged against the swollen spot, making you see stars. With your hands pressed against the cold stones, you tried to ground yourself, hoping that you wouldn’t pass out from the intense sensations, especially when he had you on your two feet.

The sounds of your bodies meeting grew louder as Sihtric felt your orgasm nearing, already done for, set on pushing you over the edge. Tears now dripped from your eyes, guided by the intense pleasure only Sihtric made you feel. Another choked gasp left you as you came on his cock, begging him to follow.

Sihtric came moments later, imprinting himself on your walls with a groan. The both of you were heavily panting, but while you had your eyes squeezed shut, Sihtric already pulled out of you, wordlessly redressing himself. Slowly you turned towards him, eyebrows furrowed, eyes glassy.

You wanted to beg him for forgiveness, once again desperate to regain his trust, but he kept on studying you, wordlessly. And without another word leaving him, he turned from you, leaving you behind, with the cell unlocked. He was giving you a way out, a test, nothing more than a test.

Taglist: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07 @mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw

#sihtric #sihtric x reader #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric x you #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #tlk fanfic #sihtric smut

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thehmn · 10 months

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I made a post some time ago (LINK) about how trolls are more nuanced creatures in Scandinavian folklore than in modern English speaking pop culture and are often used as sympathetic allegories for people who just can’t fit in with mainstream society, be it because of their disability, gender or sexuality.

I realized I forgot about the Danish 1856 ballet A Folk Tale (you can watch it on YouTube here LINK) despite it being an excellent example because in modern times it has been reinterpreted to fit this new view of trolls. (Because it’s an older ballet it has less dancing and more miming and acting than you’re probably expecting)

The story to help you better understand the ballet: The human girl Hilda and the troll girl Birthe are swapped as infants.

Many years later during a picnic Birthe is flirting with the nobleman Sir Mogens even though her fiancé Junker Ove is present. She enjoys toying with both of them, much to Ove’s dismay and Mogens’ delight. It all ends in Ove and Birthe having a fight resulting in Birthe leaving with Mogens and Ove staying in the forest past sundown to collect his thoughts.

Suddenly a nearby hill opens and reveals the troll sorceress Muri and her adopted daughter Hilda. Muri tells Hilda to lure Ove closer and get him to drink from an enchanted cup but he refuses, spills the drink and won’t give the cup back. As revenge Muri summons the elves who dance him into madness and leave him scared, confused and half naked in the dark forest (if you only know fantasy elves this is a perfect example of what the original elves are like in Scandinavian folklore)

In the underworld we learn that Hilda has been told she’s an elf girl but she senses something is off. Both of Muri’s sons, Diderik and Viderik, are in love with her but Muri has decided that Diderik should marry her because he’s the oldest. During the engagement party Hilda and Viderik get the guests drunk and run away.

They end up near a sacred spring where they see a priest feed the healing water to sick people. They try to cheer the sick and poor people up with music and dance but suddenly Ove shows up. He still has the elf madness and scares everyone. Mogens happens to walk by and thinks Ove is attacking people so he runs to get help, secretly plotting to get Ove out of the way so he can marry Birthe. Meanwhile Hilda feeds some of the sacred spring water to Ove and dance him back to sanity. Mogens returns with soldiers, hunters and farmers and trap Ove. Viderik helps him escape using his magic music and sends Mogens and his men on a wild goose chase.

Back at the mansion Birthe is terrorizing her servants and even goes as far as to threaten to throw her mother out of the house. Hilda who had been running from Mogens’ men makes her way into the mansion where she is recognized as the true heir to the estate. Because of her horrible treatment of the household Birthe is immediately thrown out onto the street and runs to Mogens for help only to find him under a troll spell. Instead of being horrified she’s delighted. Viderik realize she’s his real sister and while they talk it out other supernatural creatures come out and trap Mogens. Muri and Diderik have been looking for Hilda and Viderik and arrive just as Birthe is starting to come around to the idea that she might be a troll. Muri sees an opportunity and asks Mogens if he wants to marry her daughter Birthe. He’s too terrified and refuses until Muri offer him treasure. When Birthe realizes her troll family is even richer than her human family she immediately accepts that she’s a troll and together Birthe and Mogens follow the trolls into the underworld.

Back at the mansion Hilda and Ove have been reunited and are celebrating their wedding. Mogens and Birthe arrives which at first scares people but they’ve come in peace and to show their good will they’ve bought a dance troupe and preform for the newly weds. The ballet ends on a freeze frame of Hilda and Ove standing in the light, looking towards the human world, and Birthe and Mogens in the dark, raising their arms towards the supernatural world, both couples getting their happiest possible ending.

Now, the original version took place during the renaissance and had a strong Christian theme. Hilda wanted to return to the human world because she longed for Christian values and Ove was like a beacon of purity for her to follow. At the end all trolls left Denmark, symbolizing Christianity finally taking hold of the country.

The updated version takes place in the time it was written and the Christian themes have been severely downplayed. Trolls and all supernatural creatures are still very much present, even watching the wedding from a distance. It is now a personal story about people feeling misplaced and longing for a community that understands and accepts them.

Birthe is aggressive, even cruel at times, but this version also implies her behavior is part nature and part nurture. She is described as spoiled meaning her parents had a huge hand in how she turned out, unable or perhaps unwilling to handle her condition and now her mother despise what she has become. This is evident in how Birthe behaves around her mother. She LOVES her wet nurse who took on the emotional parenting role but recoils at her mother’s touch. She also directs most of her abuse at the housekeeper because she most openly mocks Birthe’s clumsiness and inability to act refined. There’s a heartbreaking scene where Birthe gets so frustrated with her inability to dance and fit in that she screams at her own reflection until the wet nurse calms her down.

Only two people are able to calm Birthe down, her wet nurse who cuddles her when she gets upset and Mogens who is seen directing Birthe’s attention to himself which softens her demeanor because she likes him and doesn’t want to cause him more harm than he can handle.

Both her and Mogens are also more queer coded in this version. Birthe wants to be a dancer and gets very up and close with the female dancers. In the first scene Mogens can be seen flirting with the female staff and in the last scene he feels comfortable openly flirting with the male dancers. It’s worth noting neither acts jealous when they see their partner flirt, again shining a light on their alternative relationship.

And who could forget when Birthe tricks Mogens into kissing Ove. In the taped version he kiss Ove’s hand but in the version I watched live they kissed on the mouth which better explained why Mogens grabs Ove’s face later as if to mockingly say “You think I’m disgusting? Look at what you’ve become”

And you’d think Mogens had more reason to be mad than Ove but no, he’s flustered but gets over it almost immediately while Ove is so angry he rips his jacket off like the good pure boy he is.

And something that really stands out is Mogens’ worship of Birthe. The first time Birthe appears all the other characters run to the opposite end of the stage but Mogens doesn’t even flinch. He just bathes in her presence. When she asks him to push her on the swing he unprompted gets her whip.

In a later scene she’s seen using a bell to bully her servants and the final thing that makes her realize she has lost all power is when they ignore it, which makes it very symbolic that Mogens gives her the bell back in the final scene and holds her up high while she rings it. Boy loves his Dom GF so very very much.

It also says something about Mogens that he randomly appears in the bad part of town. He’s very good at playing the upper class game and seems to be quite respected but also seeks escape in the outskirts of society. When Birthe really gets going you can see Mogens acting shocked followed by pure joy at such a free and wild woman. The Danish translation of Shakespeare’s Taming of The Shrew is Troll can be Tamed and this ballet almost feels like a response to that. Trolls/wild women should not be tamed! They should be free around people who love them for their wildness!

Their behavior is perfectly in line with what we see in the underworld. Muri is played by a male dancer to give her the proper imposing height and it’s left up for interpretation if older female trolls are just bigger than the males or if she’s a trans mommy. The engagement party is risqué from the start and quickly turns into a drunken sex orgy (Good luck to Mogens when he is engaged to Birthe. All I’m saying is as a human he’s going to be very popular with the other creatures) It might seem like an evil world but this version of the ballet really tries to make it clear that this is normal and expected behavior in the underworld. They act like that because they like it and are all happy with the way their society works. Even the more gentle troll Viderik prefer the underworld to the human world. It’s not bad just different.

Birthe and Mongens almost come of as lower level money-happy Disney villains, deserving of a fitting punishment for their treatment of the people around them, but certainly not death and the story is overall sympathetic to them as people who have been mangled by a society that mistreated and punished them for something that was out of their control which is why they get a happy ending. Definitely worth a watch.

#folklore #ballet #troll #scandinavia #denmark #long post

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aradiyatoys · 1 year

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 11 days

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A Danish Werewolf in The City:

The First Sight.

Note: follow up to The First Shift. I have read this over and over and over again, and I just had to let it go and post it. May have missed some mistakes as my eyes literally hurt by now :')

Warnings: 18+! horror/gore described, mention of (child) death/murder. once again, it's a dark werewolf fic...

pairing: Werewolf!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: You had fallen in love with a werewolf.

wordcount: 3,6k

Masterlist

Chapter 1.

That something had been different about Sihtric became evident during the first few months of your relationship.

You had first met at work, for you were both veterinarians, and you were transferred for a day to Sihtric's location as they were short staffed, and you both knew it was love at first sight. His hair was of shoulder length and braided, the sides were shaved freshly and his facial hair was well kept too. Sihtric was simply a breathtaking man, and he treated you with the utmost respect once you began dating, even asking permission before he first kissed you.

The first weeks of dating were like a dream, but then Sihtric suddenly started to disappear every few weeks for about three days. He had just gone without a word, but then showed up at your door again as if nothing had happened after those three seemingly random days. It was almost as if he died every few weeks, only to suddenly rise from the grave again and return to you, looking as beautiful and charming as ever, so you couldn't help but continue to fall for him and ignore your suspicions. Sihtric promised you that his disappearances had nothing to do with you, but that he sometimes struggled "with his own being", whatever that meant. But he soon felt inclined to open up to you and tell you about his wolf problem, as he sensed you began to doubt his loyalty due to his recurring strange behaviour.

And werewolves were not unheard of, nor were other creatures of the night, as you had treated numerous animals who had clearly been at the claws of those beings. You had just never met one and you surely never thought you'd fall in love with one, so you had a hard time accepting his honesty for a little while. You couldn't possibly imagine this was a curse he had lived with his whole life and only exposed itself during his late teens. And you, like any other regular human being, only knew of the fairytales which described werewolves as hideous monsters, and yet Sihtric wasn't a monster, for all you knew at least.

And he also wasn't the young and frightened boy anymore which he had told you about, yet it still saddened you gravely that he had lived such a tragic and lonely life, before he changed into the confident man he was now. Sihtric was clearly in full control of his other being too, only shifting when the Moon was full or when a situation called for it, so you chose to believe and trust him completely after you had taken a few days to yourself to let it all sink in. And you slowly began to understand him more and more.

The scars on his face had been something you used to ponder about at night, as he never gave you a clear answer to how he had gotten those. It was only after you found out about his beast-like nature that the scars, which graced his face as well as the rest of his impressive and muscular body, were claw markings he had earned in territorial brawls and violent fights over time, earning him the true alpha status he held now.

Sihtric's short temper, impatience and hunger for violence were also things you had been wary of at first, but it was already clear that he would never be aggressive towards you or those he cared for. He was only incredibly protective and possessive of you, both traits you didn't really mind as it made you feel safe and desired by a beautiful man. The way he always held you close in public or how he refused to let you walk home on your own once it was dark, it all made your heart beat faster for him. But you also never suspected Sihtric did those things out of a fear which was deeply rooted inside of him and every other werewolf; terrified of losing a loved one to a werewolf's natural enemy.

But the most peculiar thing about Sihtric were probably his sexual urges, and the fact that he seemed to have an insatiable sex drive. You could make love for an entire rainy day, and he still wouldn't be completely satisfied or even remotely tired, like a normal human would be. And for some reason he always insisted on being intimate in the dark, with the lights off and the curtains closed, which struck you as odd too, for his physical appearance was not one to be ashamed of.

Another thing was that Sihtric has a tendency to suddenly sink his teeth in your skin whenever you were intimate, never drawing blood or piercing your flesh, but hard enough to leave a mark behind on your body that was more serious than a simple love bite. You also swore you saw his eyes glow every time you had sex, one a bright red and the other a piercing blue. It seemed so inhuman, but you told yourself it had to be a reflection of some sort which simply enhanced his heterochromia. And it often felt as if his nails became sharper during intercourse, leaving scratches all over your skin and tearing up the sheets as well, and he loved to drag his tongue over your body, which felt pleasantly smooth but sometimes larger than a human tongue could possibly be. Sihtric also loves to chase you around his house whenever you'd stay over, before capturing you and throwing you on his bed, where he'd fuck you like a feral beast for hours on end.

He couldn't explain his needs and desires to you at the time, as he did not want to frighten you with the truth that he truly was a beast, and you just figured he was an intense lover. But once you knew the truth about him, everything just made sense. And as you were in love, you weren't necessarily frightened or worried, or even fully grasping the extent of what him being a werewolf meant.

And you couldn't even begin to imagine the horrific sights you were to witness, or the terrible stories you would hear…

You walked hand in hand with Sihtric, over a lonely path that led through darkened woods you both knew all too well. The moon was waning, barely visible as she was almost renewed again. It was a quiet and late summer night, the air was mellow and you were dressed in a loose shirt and some shorts, while Sihtric wore a sleeveless top and long dark jeans. Most people were long asleep already, but you and Sihtric were a match made in heaven as you both enjoyed the dark and quietness after sunset, and with your werewolf lover by your side you felt as if you had nothing left to fear for.

Several weeks had passed since you had fully accepted your werewolf boyfriend, and you had never been more in love. But the horrors you were to face soon, as you strolled through the woods while stealing kisses and murmuring sweet nothings to each other in the dead of night as your hands were intertwined, were horrors you would never forget for as long as your heart would beat.

'You don't dare to say it,' you giggled as you moved swiftly between the thick trees, playfully running and hiding from your beloved, who would always find you with ease due to his werewolf senses. But that didn't make it any less fun for either of you.

'Yes, I do,' Sihtric laughed as he caught you in his strong arms, and he brought you down to the ground without flexing a single muscle.

He quickly climbed on top of you and leaned in, cupping your cheeks and softly nuzzling your nose lovingly, while his low chuckle made you lightheaded and your lips curled into a smitten smile. You smelled the earthy scent of the ground beneath you as you were pinned down by a man so much stronger than you, but Sihtric had you so enchanted that you didn't even care your clothes would become dirty or your hair messy, and you had never felt more safe than you did whenever your body was pressed against his.

'Then say it,' you quietly dared him again as your hands moved up in his long loose hair, and slowly raked through it to which he closed his eyes and smiled.

'I love you,' Sihtric whispered, lips faintly touching yours, 'I really do.'

Your breath hitched when you finally heard those words you had so dared him to speak, and you pulled him in, closing the last small distance that was left and your lips locked in the sweetest, yet most needy kiss possible.

'Say you love me,' Sihtric growled softly, smiling, and he gently headbutted you.

'I love you too,' you smiled and trailed your hands down his chest.

Sihtric dropped his head with a shy smile upon hearing you say it, overwhelmed with his feelings for you, which were of such force that it almost made it hard for him to breathe. But his bliss was only short lasting when he suddenly caught a scent, and he snapped his head up while his face was set serious and his mismatched eyes wide. He sat completely still, and you could see his ears wiggly faintly at something you couldn't hear.

'What?' you asked, confused while running your hands over his arms as you looked up at him, 'what is it?'

'The undead,' Sihtric said monotonically and perked up further.

'What?' you half laughed.

'The undead. I smell them.'

'Wait,' you chuckled nervously, 'you mean like… zombies?'

Sihtric scoffed lightly and shook his head.

'I wish it was zombies,' he said and pulled you up with him, 'but I mean vampires, love.'

Sihtric placed his hand on the small of your back, politely urging you to walk with him as he gradually increased his speed, wanting to bring you back home safely and far away from the scent that lingered in the air for him. But before you could make it out of the woods, you were already surrounded.

Sihtric's eyes darted over the pale and heartbeat-lacking creatures, his jaw clenched tightly while he held you in his arms and pressed firmly against him. You weren't all that up-to-date about werewolves and their rivals, but you knew like most people that vampires and lycanthropes never got along, and you clung onto your still human shaped boyfriend while one vampire stepped forward.

'Well, well,' the pale man laughed, 'a dog and it's human, and what an endearing pup you are!'

'What is it you want?' Sihtric cut to the point, 'because this is neutral ground, so there is no need for anyone to get harmed.'

'Well,' the master vampire scoffed, who looked old and ugly, 'your father killed my wife on neutral ground. So it is only fair if I return the favour and kill,' he paused and gestured at you, 'whatever she is to you.'

'I have nothing to do with what my father-'

'Ah!' the vampire exclaimed as he sniffed the air, ignoring Sihtric, 'such fresh human blood running through her veins, but sadly… not a virgin anymore. Oh, well,' the old vampire shrugged while the others grinned, 'I'll take her anyway. And sure, you may have nothing to do with your father, but you are still a werewolf of his tribe.'

'I'm not part of his tribe!' Sihtric hissed, 'I created my own.'

'But you're all the same, are you not?' the vampire spoke slowly as he crept closer, 'sneaking into houses at night… waking up defenceless mothers… asking if you can take their child away… and in their hazy and disorientated state they might just give their permission, and that's another snack earned easily, no? And, oh, how you wolves hypnotise those children, as well as the cattle of the same poor family, with just your gazes. And for what? For thinking the curse could be broken? Such foolish dogs you are…'

You listened carefully and shivered at the ideas the ancient one bestowed. You looked up at Sihtric, whose face did all but ease your fright that he could be a monster such as described. Sihtric looked away from you, as if ashamed, and he only swallowed hard in response to your gaze while he looked down at his feet. The vampire became aware of your horror, and was entertained at the idea that you would most likely be disgusted with your partner now, and he laughed.

'Oh, does she not know?' he asked Sihtric, darkly amused, 'does she also not know how you attacked the very first human you encountered in your wolf form, after your first transition? Or the other thing you have done to try and break your curse, hm? Because I know all about you, Sihtric Kjartansson, and I could tell your lovely lady here all about you.'

Sihtric suddenly snarled, and you flinched at the guttural sound as he held you protectively in his arms.

'Don't!' Sihtric bared his teeth at the vampire, 'don't you dare-'

'This beast,' the vampire mocked Sihtric and looked at you, 'has attacked numerous pregnant women in his life, yes, yes. For those silly Danish werewolves all believe that if they were to eat a fresh male foetus, thus slicing open a poor lady's womb with a single scratch of their claw to obtain the unborn child, their curse would be broken.'

You felt dizzy and sick to your stomach while the vampire snickered. You had no response, you only stared intently and quietly at the master, wishing that his words were all just lies and that Sihtric would never do such a monstrous thing or believe such a horrible superstition. And you felt Sihtric's chest heave up and down as he fought his urge to shift, while a roaring anger boiled inside of him and his arms around you became tighter, almost suffocating.

Sihtric never meant to hide his blooddrenched past from you, but it was something he was deeply ashamed of and knew it would most likely scare you away from him. He wanted to tell you everything about him, but in time. You had only just gotten used to the fact that he was a werewolf, and he intended on easing you into the awful secrets of his past, but now a truly dark page of his life was suddenly exposed to you. His early days as a young werewolf had been confusing, violent and bloody, as he had tried everything he possibly could to undo his first transformation. No matter how horrific it was, Sihtric tried everything, he even tried to undo his werewolf being by converting to Christianity at some point.

'And… did it work, wolf boy?' the elder snickered, 'killing those harmless women and eating their children?'

'Would you like to find out? You filthy fucking bloodsucker!' Sihtric threatened, and the vampires began to close in rapidly.

Sihtric shoved you behind him, and he bared his teeth at the vampires before he told you to run.

'Run and don't look back, whatever you hear,' he urged and gave you a light push, 'run home, and don't invite anyone in who might show up at your door.'

'I… I-,' you stammered, visibly shaking and still in shock after everything that had just happened, but Sihtric cut you off before you could say anything else.

'Run! Now!' he growled, and you did as you were told.

You turned and ran as fast as you possibly could to exit the woods, but when you heard the sudden sound of clothes being ripped at the seams and the awful sound of bones snapping, you stopped running. You turned to face Sihtric again while you were at a distance, and what you then witnessed couldn't be anything other than a nightmare. You saw how your boyfriend grew and ripped out of his clothes, and you heard his bones snap as he deformed and fell down on all fours. You watched and heard him grunt and growl, while every muscle in his body contracted until a sudden thick coat of fur appeared on his bare back and his face changed into that of a monstrous being. Your eyes grew wide at the horrific sight of the half man-half wolf, who had told you he loved you only moments ago. And you felt sick at the sight of his blooded claws and those sharp teeth, remembering how he had used those to devour humans and cattle with. Those same hands that had caressed you and those same teeth he had dragged over your naked body, only so carefully and full of love, unlike what he had used them for on others.

You saw how Sihtric got up on his back legs, being twice his human size and towering over the vampires like an optical illusion. His muscular torso was still recognisable, even with the thin layer of black fur covering it now. And he was a… a beast. A foul creature of the night! And yet he still had enough human traits that you recognised your boyfriend in the murderous animal in the distance. You opened your mouth as you wanted to scream at the terrifying sight, but no sound ever left your throat as you watched the horror unfold while you were nailed to the ground.

The vampires had long forgotten about you, they'd rather slaughter a werewolf than drink the blood of a polluted human who had slept with their enemy. And you then heard Sihtric's deafening and bone chilling howl echoing through the dark night as he threw his head back, and he raised his massive arms and began to swing at the vampires who dared to take their chance. You heard the nauseating sound of claws ripping through flesh and the splattering of blood against the thick trees, and the sight of limbs being ripped and torn off was a terror you would never forget, while the bone crunching sound of it made you fall to your knees, and you retched as you began to cry.

And after you had witnessed half of the vampire massacre, which seemed to happen in slow motion while in reality it all went so fast, Sihtric snapped his head towards you, and he snarled loudly at you before he was jumped by the remaining vampires. His snarl was so heavy and frightening that it rumbled through the air and made you jump up, and you began to run again as fast as your legs allowed. And as the tears rolled down your face while you ran, you covered your ears upon hearing what sounded like a dog wince and cry in pain. You knew the heartbreaking noise came from Sihtric, but you were too afraid to look back, so you ran home…

You weren't sure how much time had passed after you had reached your home and locked the doors behind you with blind panic. You only remembered running upstairs, to your bedroom, where you threw up and fainted once you sat down on your bed, not having closed your bedroom window.

You were woken up sometime later, the sky outside still dark while the streets were quiet, and you slightly raised your head up when a sudden sense of dread alarmed you. You held your breath once you caught a foul whiff of the smell of blood and flesh, and you slowly turned to face the nightmare that stood in your room, which had climbed in through your window and had shredded your curtains. You cowered at the shadowy sight of your werewolf boyfriend towering over you as he stood at the end of your bed, and you began to cry for help. Sihtric then whined and backed off, throwing his large, hairy and clawed hands up to show you he meant no harm, but he also understood you were terrified of him as you hid your face behind your hands while you muttered something that sounded like a prayer.

Sihtric was too ashamed to shift back to his human form, he couldn't possibly face you as himself, but he knew he also couldn't keep his current shape. So he crouched down and, out of your sight, shifted from his horrible werewolf figure into that of a large black coated wolf. He then carefully moved closer and climbed on your bed. You yelped and flinched at his first touch; a light headbutt to your shoulder to gain your attention, and you then slowly lowered your hands and saw the monster was no longer there anymore. Instead, there was a beautiful big black wolf staring at you, with the big and recognisable mismatched puppy dog eyes of the man you loved, and a calming sensation seemed to wash over you.

You sniffled and backed away at first when you felt his tongue wipe away your tears, but you believed he meant well and allowed him to come closer again. Sihtric headbutted you once more, lovingly, and he then wrapped his front legs around you and pushed you to lay down. You turned to face him, and you couldn't stop yourself from grabbing onto his thick fur and burying your face in it as you began to cry again. 'Sihtric,' was all you could whisper, to which he whined softly. Sihtric was heartbroken to see you like this and knowing he was the cause of it all, and he pulled you in closer with his paws. He used his big, soft and bushy black tail as a security blanket, enveloping you whole while he held you tightly wrapped in his front legs, with his big fluffy wolf head resting on top of yours.

You were safe.

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if you want to be added to/deleted from the taglist, message me 🖤

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #the last kingdom #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric #tlk #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #werewolf #werewolf fic #werewolf au #sihtric au #tlk au #horror fic #horror

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ifindus · 2 months

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The Battle of Hjørungavåg - for the Mythtalia March by @hwsevents

"Never have Danes held such a battle with Norwegians, not before nor since" - Fagrskinna.

The battle of Hjørungavåg took place outside the Norwegian coast in the year 986, and was a sea battle between an invading Danish army and a defending Norwegian one. It was a battle of great national significance as the ruling Earl Håkon defended the country against the Danish King Svein Tjugeskjegg aided by the Joms Vikings, who wanted to take control over Norway and christen it.

The battle begun after some farmers tricked the Danes into believeing Earl Håkon only had 2-3 ships with him. They charged forth and got surprised by 50 ships lying in wait for them.

It was a fierce battle, and despite the element of surprise, the Norwegians suffered heavy losses early on. Most of the losses were with Earl Håkon, who fought against Svein Tjugeskjegg, a fight so intense that he had to shed his chainmail as it had become torn apart by all the weapons hitting him. Håkon's sons Eirik and Svein Håkonson fought against the Joms Vikings, Eirik saving his brother. This is when the battle turns.

Suddenly, a terrifying storm hits, with fierce waves of hail. The storm seemed almost magic and supernatural, and on the side of the Norwegians. Had the pagans used dark magic? It is said that Earl Håkon had sacrificed his 7 year old son Erling in a ritual for victory (probably false). The Earls of Lade had a connection to the female godess and spirit Torgerd Hølgebrud, who was called on whenever the family was in need. She came along with her sister and other valkyries on horses with bows and arrows, sending hail towards their enemies.

Torgerd is interpreted as an ancient fertility spirit, and these spirits are also connected with a warrior aspect. They protected certain families and are some of the oldest creatures in the pre-Christian Norse religion.

The supernatural warrior spirits was a convenient excuse for why Svein Tjugeskjegg fled the battle; it was impossible to fight against gods and trolls. It also supported the savage ways of the pagan religion.

As Svein flees, he leaves the Joms Vikings behind to be captured by the Earls. They were about to be executed by beheading, but one of them managed to get a hold of the sword and chop the head off the man about to kill him. Eirik Håkonson is impressed by this and grants them their freedom.

#mythtalia march #hetalia #historical hetalia #aph norway #aph denmark #hws norway #hws denmark #again; any excuse to talk about Eirik Jarl - my fave historical person 🥰🥰🥰#more historical notes: the son Erling was probably older and fought along his family in the battle - not sacrificed for victory #and as most sources are mostly christian propaganda it is clear that the respect they had for the Earls of Lade is genuine #there are so many stories surrounding the Earls of Lade that show the quality of them - even though they were pagan #The Earls of Lade were based in Trondheim and mainly ruled over Trøndelag - but at this point they also had control over Norway as a whole #but it should be noted that “Norway” at this point /probably/ didn't include some parts around Oslo - we are not entirely certain here #not very pleased with how the drawings turned out - but I guess the story here is the most important part 😔😔

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hapalopus · 11 days

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Found this history book from the 1930s that explicitly refers to the Vejlø Church pulpit-bearer as a troll - not a slattenpatte, as she's erroneously called nowadays - and says that she was carved as an allusion to the Trolle coat of arms (a local noble family, known for founding Herlufsholm school)

Additionally, the book translates the inscription on the pulpit:

"Templa, sacerdotes, dum vult prosternere dæmon, templa, sacerdotes, insignia Trollia portant."

into

"Naar Trolden, o Præster, vil omstyrte Kirkerne, da bærer, o Præster, Trollernes Tegn Kirkerne."

which roughly translates to

"When the troll, oh priests, will¹ destroy the churches, then the Trolles' sign², oh priests, carries the churches."

1) The Danish word 'vil' can be translated as both desiring/wishing to do something, or as the future act or doing something.

2) The direct translation is "carries, oh priests, the Trolles' sign the churches" because Danish uses a different a word order than English.

I'm very excited to get confirmation that the Latin 'dæmon' has been translated as 'trold' (troll) in Danish.

This all supports my hypothesis that the modern image of trolls, as horned, tailed, animalistic creatures is actually Christian in origin, and that the horned/tailed troll outlived the dwarven troll in large part because of Christian depictions of devils - devils that were referred to as trolls.

#folklore #danish folklore #trolls

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transgenderer · 8 months

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winter (n.)

Old English winter (plural wintru), "the fourth and coldest season of the year, winter," from Proto-Germanic *wintruz "winter" (source also of Old Frisian, Dutch winter, Old Saxon, Old High German wintar, German winter, Danish and Swedish vinter, Gothic wintrus, Old Norse vetr "winter"), probably literally "the wet season," from PIE *wend-, nasalized form of root *wed- (1) "water; wet"). On another old guess, cognate with Gaulish vindo-, Old Irish find "white." The usual PIE word is *gheim-.

Proto-Indo-European root meaning "winter."

It forms all or part of: chimera; chiono-; hiemal; hibernacle; hibernal; hibernate; hibernation; Himalaya.

fabulous monster of Greek mythology, slain by Bellerophon, late 14c., from Old French chimere or directly from Medieval Latin chimera, from Latin Chimaera, from Greek khimaira, name of a mythical fire-breathing creature (slain by Bellerophon) with a lion's head, a goat's body, and a dragon's tail, a word that also meant "year-old she-goat" (masc. khimaros), from kheima "winter season," from PIE root *gheim- "winter."

As an adjective in Old English. The Anglo-Saxons counted years in "winters," as in Old English ænetre "one-year-old;" and wintercearig, which might mean either "winter-sad" or "sad with years." Old Norse Vetrardag, first day of winter, was the Saturday that fell between Oct. 10 and 16.

spring (n.)

"season following winter, first of the four seasons of the year; the season in which plants begin to rise," by 1540s, a shortening of spring of the year (1520s), which is from a special sense of an otherwise now-archaic spring (n.) "act or time of springing or appearing; the first appearance; the beginning, birth, rise, or origin" of anything (see spring v., and compare spring (n.2), spring (n.3)).

The earliest form seems to have been springing time (early 14c.). The notion is of the "spring of the year," when plants begin to rise and trees to bud (as in spring of the leaf, 1520s).

The Middle English noun also was used of sunrise, the waxing of the moon, rising tides, sprouting of the beard or pubic hair, etc.; compare 14c. spring of dai "sunrise," spring of mone "moonrise." Late Old English spring meant "carbuncle, pustule."

As the word for the vernal season it replaced Old English lencten (see Lent). Other Germanic languages take words for "fore" or "early" as their roots for the season name (Danish voraar, Dutch voorjaar, literally "fore-year;" German Frühling, from Middle High German vrueje "early").

In 15c. English, the season also was prime-temps, after Old French prin tans, tamps prim (Modern French printemps, which replaced primevère 16c. as the common word for spring), from Latin tempus primum, literally "first time, first season."

summer (n.)

"hot season of the year," Old English sumor "summer," from Proto-Germanic *sumra- (source also of Old Saxon, Old Norse, Old High German sumar, Old Frisian sumur, Middle Dutch somer, Dutch zomer, German Sommer), from PIE root *sm- "summer" (source also of Sanskrit sama "season, half-year," Avestan hama "in summer," Armenian amarn "summer," Old Irish sam, Old Welsh ham, Welsh haf "summer").

autumn (n.)

season after summer and before winter, late 14c., autumpne (modern form from 16c.), from Old French autumpne, automne (13c.), from Latin autumnus (also auctumnus, perhaps influenced by auctus "increase"), which is of unknown origin.

Perhaps it is from Etruscan, but Tucker suggests a meaning "drying-up season" and a root in *auq- (which would suggest the form in -c- was the original) and compares archaic English sere-month "August." De Vaan writes, "Although 'summer', 'winter' and 'spring' are inherited IE words in Latin, a foreign origin of autumnus is conceivable, since we cannot reconstruct a PIE word for 'autumn'".

Harvest (n.) was the English name for the season until autumn began to displace it 16c. Astronomically, from the descending equinox to the winter solstice; in Britain, the season is popularly August through October; in U.S., September through November. Compare Italian autunno, Spanish otoño, Portuguese outono, all from the Latin word.

As de Vaan notes, autumn's names across the Indo-European languages leave no evidence that there ever was a common word for it. Many "autumn" words mean "end, end of summer," or "harvest." Compare Greek phthinoporon "waning of summer;" Lithuanian ruduo "autumn," from rudas "reddish," in reference to leaves; Old Irish fogamar, literally "under-winter."

summer and winter both with PIE roots, but autumn and spring both without!

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ascendingtostardust · 4 months

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Help You Remember

(Sam Kiszka x f!reader)

wc: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of food/eating, mentions of poor memory - let me know if I missed anything!

When it came down to it, Sam was a creature of habit. Of course he liked to be spontaneous and off-the-cuff on occasion, but he found himself in falling into a familiar rhythm day-to-day when he had some time off from working. That meant that you also stepped into those routines that comprised your daily life together.

You don’t know when exactly it happened, but at some point over the last few months you and Sam had become regulars at a little bakery down the street from your home. Every Monday and Friday mornings before the morning rush, the employees at Snookums came to expect the two of you just as they finished putting the last tray of morning muffins in the case. It had become customary for you and Sam to always choose something different than you had picked out the previous visit “to keep life exciting,” Sam had said.

Their flavors of muffins, danishes, rolls, and loaves rotated weekly, which only highlighted your indecisiveness and poor memory as you stood peering through the glass case to figure out what treat you were going to choose for the day. Ever the patient partner, Sam would wait as long as you needed to come to a decision with nothing more than a simple “you did say you were in the mood for lemon last night and look! Lemon muffins today!”

After your first few trips to the bakery, you couldn’t help but be apologetic about how long it took you to decide what you wanted when Sam made a choice less than 30 seconds after glancing at his options. He wasn’t like previous partners or friends who got frustrated with your struggle to make decisions for yourself or your memory issues on occasion. He waited by your side, thumb brushing over the top of your hand as he asked the employees how their morning was going.

Today was no different than previous trips to Snookums, however you knew that the two of you would have to hurry home to meet one of Sam’s friends who was dropping off seedlings for his garden. The smell of warm baked goods filled your lungs and brought a sense of calm to your busy mind as you stepped into the bakery and immediately took in your muffin options.

Chocolate chip hazelnut, blueberry crumb, banana nut, and triple chocolate.

Greeting the two employees with a smile and a quick hello, you mulled over your decision and felt Sam come to stand slightly behind you, wrapping an arm around your lower back as he hummed softly.

“What can I grab for you, Sam?” one of the regular Friday morning workers, Jenna, asked, knowing that Sam always made his mind up rather quickly.

“Hmmmm….” After another look at the glass case, Sam’s gaze turned to you. “You know what, Jenna, I’m going to let my girl pick hers out first today.”

It was hard not to crack a smile in response to the goofy grin he gave you, silently encouraging you. You had to make a decision, and fast.

“I’ll have a hazelnut chocolate chip, please.” Smiling at Jenna and thanking her as she put your muffin in a light pink box, you turn to Sam.

“I’ve never tried that one before but it sounds good, right?” You say quietly, leaning into his side.

“Sounds delicious, actually!” He responds, giving you a quick peck on the forehead before ordering a banana nut muffin for himself.

“Ooo banana nut, one of my favorites!” You say to him as the two of you follow Jenna down the counter to the register. Sam responded with a sweet smile and squeeze of your hand before letting go to grab his wallet from his back pocket.

On the walk home, it didn’t take long for you to reach into the small box containing your treats and pull a small piece of your muffin from the side of the rounded top. The excitement of trying something new quickly faded the more you chewed and realized that the flavor wasn’t exactly what you expected. With a hum, you close the box and continue walking, though you can feel Sam studying your face without being too obvious.

“Was it good, lovey?” He said finally, reaching to take the box from your hand and cradle it in one of his own arms.

“Um,” you started, trying not to sound too disappointed, “it was okay! Everything they make is good, so…” You let your voice trail off and the sight of your shared home came into view.

Walking up the few steps to the front door, you began mentally going through what ingredients you had to possibly make your own muffins to make up for the one that wasn’t quite your taste.

Once inside, you began looking through your cabinets for the typical baking essentials, feeling Sam lean up against the counter next to you a moment later.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He said, quickly looking around jokingly to make sure no one else would hear his confession, though it was just the two of you in your home.

Onto his antics, you giggle and decide to play along, turning your head to face your ear towards him and leaning in close. He bent slightly and leaned in so close that you could feel his lips ghost over the shell of your ear.

“You tried the hazelnut chocolate chip muffin a few weeks ago and didn’t like it,” he whispered. You turn your head to look at him, eyes wide with the realization that you had, in fact, tried that flavor at the end of last month. It was all coming back to you.

“I finished it for you and found it quite delicious, so when you picked that one again I knew we needed a backup!” He grabbed the pink box from its resting place on the counter and opened it, taking the untouched banana nut muffin out and placing it on a small plate he had set out. Sliding it towards you, he reached his hand out to squeeze your shoulder lightly.

“Now…what are we thinking drink-wise? Coffee? Milk? Tea?” He moved around you to open the fridge, peering at any other potential options.

“I love you.” You said, turning to face him as he stands in front of the open fridge, already grinning when he meets your gaze.

“Oh yeah? Well I love you more, lovey.” He lets the refrigerator door swing shut quietly as he reaches out to pull you close to his chest, moving his palm in circular motions between your shoulder blades.

“As much as I would love to hold you all day, we do need to decide on what to drink with our breakfast so we can take this party outside and enjoy the sun a little before the day really starts!”

You let your head fall back, “umm okay, let me think for a minute…”

“Take all the time you need.”

#this is completely self indulgent but I hope you enjoy anywayssss #I hope this makes sense pls be nice to me thank you #sam kiszka #sam kiszka fic #gvf

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