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destiny is all

@outlawedmando / outlawedmando.tumblr.com

desi writer | 23 | bisexual
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SOMEWHERE SAFE

pairing: sihtric kjartansson × poc!reader

warnings: violence ; sihtric not married here

summary: scared of losing someone dear to you.

a/n: this is so inaccurate but i desperately wanted to write for my one love <3 kicking myself for not watching the last kingdom sooner (that's on me). this has not been edited/beta read.

also! would really appreciate reblogs + comments!!

word count: 1,3k+

COPYRIGHT ® 2023 OUTLAWEDMANDO. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THIS ORIGINAL WORK IS NOT ALLOWED TO BE REPOSTED ON ANY PLATFORM IN ANY FORMAT.

GIF by oetravia

SOMEWHERE IN DANELAND

The aftermath of any battle came with its own consolation prizes. Both sides of the war lost many on their sides. There were dead bodies scattered everywhere, decorating the barren field to completion. You do not remember being dragged violently on the ground, only that you could not see properly as blood had gotten everywhere—into your eyes and all.

Now as you sit on the bloodied earth surrounded by Danes jeering about how they caught one of Uthred's most trusted men. But, you knew how the men looked at you. You rather the Saxon's and their god smite you then be laid out on a platter for these savages. You did not know when your back up would come, if they would notice that you were gone. You could be dead for all you knew.

#the last kingdom#sihtric x reader#tlk sihtric#sihtric one shot#sihtric kjartansson x reader#tlk x reader#tlk imagine#the last kingdom x reader#sihtric#uthred x reader#finan x reader#osferth x reader#tlk#tlk fandom#tlk reader#poc!reader#sihtric x poc!reader
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jeonwonwoo
VISCOUNTESS KATE BRIDGERTON and VISCOUNT ANTHONY BRIDGERTON BRIDGERTON (2024)
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reblogged
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eskeptical

obsessed with the idea of simon 'ghost' riley not being used to having someone else to come home to. for him to open the door to his flat, his senses heightened when he sees a pair of shoes at the entrance that aren't his.

he's so used to being lonely he forgets you're there waiting for him. but the reminder does him well, and he sets his things on the floor before quietly looking around for you. he forgets to take off his balaclava, as he always does, accustomed to it as though it's etched onto his skin, an extension of him until it's not, until you remind him by trailing your fingers on its edges and lifting it up when he's sitting on the couch next to you.

and he's not sure whether to be on alert when the pads of your thumbs wipe off the black smudges around his eyes so gently when he's used to grabbing a rough tissue and scrubbing it off because he had no idea he could be treated with care. no one was there to teach him or show him otherwise.

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