#Rollo fanfiction

[gratelove]

Okay yall, I’m a little late to the party, but Rollo Lothbrok🫣 I’m only on season 3 of Vikings and I’m officially in love with the beauty of this man. Be prepared for more Vikings fics🤤 Also, this is a LONG fic, but it’s worth it!🥹

Bridge Between Worlds

Rollo Lothbrok x Reader

In a marriage arranged for political alliance, you, a Christian princess, and the Viking warrior Rollo find yourselves unexpectedly drawn together, bridging the divide between your faiths, cultures, and hearts.

Warnings: smut, fluff, struggles with faith, religion, drinking, cursing

The grand hall fell silent as your father’s voice rang out, echoing through the stone walls. His words seemed to linger in the air, heavy with purpose, like a chain slipping over your wrists. “The Northmen have proposed an alliance, my daughter,” he said, his gaze steady as he looked at you. “King Ragnar has offered his brother, Rollo Lothbrok, to wed you. This marriage will bring peace to our lands and protection from their raids.”

The room seemed to close in, the walls pressing down as you struggled to breathe. Marry a Northman? The very thought filled you with dread. You’d heard tales of these people—warriors who worshipped strange gods, men who swept through villages like storms, leaving only ruin in their wake. And now, to bind yourself to one of them, to Rollo Lothbrok of all people… It was unthinkable.

“But, Father,” you protested, your voice wavering. “Surely, there must be another way to secure peace. A treaty, a negotiation—anything but marriage.”

Your father’s gaze softened, but his voice held the iron weight of duty. “This is the only way, my daughter. We need this alliance. You have always known that your marriage would serve a greater purpose, and now that purpose is upon us.”

You felt a lump rise in your throat. Your life had been a careful sequence of preparations for this role, every lesson, every sermon instilling in you the virtue of self-sacrifice. You’d known that one day your life would be bound to someone chosen for you, but you had always imagined it would be to a noble from a nearby kingdom, someone who shared your faith, your values. Not to a pagan warrior from a distant, brutal land. A beast more than a man.

And yet, you had no choice. The Northmen’s proposal had been clear, and your father had already accepted it. The fate you had so long been prepared for was now sealed.

***

The day of your wedding dawned, cloaked in an eerie stillness. The grand church where you were to wed Rollo was adorned with flowers and candles, symbols of a sacred union. You wore a gown of fine lace, your veil trailing behind you like a whisper of grace. You felt numb, as if moving through a dream—or a nightmare—waiting for the moment to be over, waiting for the reality of it to settle.

Rollo stood at the altar, a tall, imposing figure, his features set in a mask of silent defiance. He looked as out of place as you felt, his gaze hard and unyielding, his mouth a tight line. When he glanced your way, his eyes were unreadable, a mixture of resentment and resignation. It was clear that he, too, had little desire for this union.

The priest began the ceremony, his voice a steady drone of Latin prayers. You barely heard the words, your mind elsewhere, tangled in memories of home, family, the life you were leaving behind. Each phrase, each gesture, seemed hollow, an imitation of the wedding you’d once imagined as a child. This was supposed to be a moment of joy, of love. But there was no warmth here, only the cold formality of duty.

When the priest instructed Rollo to take your hand, he did so without meeting your gaze, his grip firm but impersonal. His hands were rough, scarred from battle, the hands of a man who had known violence more than tenderness. You felt the weight of his touch, solid and unyielding, a reminder that you were bound now to this stranger.

The priest continued, his voice a solemn echo as he blessed your union, but you could see the slight hesitation in his eyes. This marriage between a Christian princess and a heathen warrior defied every tradition, every vow that was meant to sanctify it. And yet, the ceremony proceeded, binding you together in the eyes of your God and your people.

When the vows were exchanged, Rollo spoke the words in a language foreign to him, his voice thick with an accent that turned each promise into something distant, almost detached. You struggled to keep your voice steady as you repeated your own vows, feeling as though you were surrendering more than your hand. You were giving up your life, your dreams, to a man who would never understand you, nor you him.

As the ceremony ended, the church fell silent, a strange, somber quiet lingering between you and Rollo. The people gathered offered their restrained applause, their faces a mixture of relief and curiosity. To them, this was a strategic victory, a bridge between two worlds, but to you and Rollo, it was a prison.

You stole a glance at him, trying to discern any hint of emotion in his eyes. But his face remained a stoic mask, unreadable and distant, as if he, too, were waiting for this day to be over.

That night, as the festivities continued, you and Rollo exchanged only the briefest of nods, acknowledging each other out of obligation more than anything else. You sat at opposite ends of the grand table, separated by language, by faith, by the vast chasm of your different worlds.

And so, as the night grew darker, you resigned yourself to this new life, feeling like a stranger in your own skin. Bound by vows spoken in words that felt foreign, you wondered if you would ever find warmth in the cold, unyielding presence of the man you now called your husband—or if this marriage would remain as empty and silent as the vows you had uttered in that grand, hollow church.

***

The sea air of Kattegat was colder than anything you’d known back home. The winds held a bite, reminding you each day that you were far from the familiar warmth of your homeland. It had been a month since you’d arrived, a month of silent days and sleepless nights in a place that felt like another world. Though married, you and Rollo had barely exchanged a glance since arriving, your only link to understanding his world was the quiet monk Athelstan, who patiently taught you Norse.

Days passed in strange routine. The Northmen spoke a language rough and wild, each word sounding like thunder to your ears. But Athelstan was a skilled teacher, and over time, the foreign words began to settle into your mind. Slowly, painstakingly, you came to understand snippets of conversation, whispers of words. And though you’d never spoken to him directly, you felt Rollo’s presence more keenly than anyone else’s.

Beyond learning their language. You learned of their gods.. gods that were not so different from the one you knew to be true. In the quiet moments of your days in Kattegat, when the biting northern winds were at rest and the village hummed with the peaceful rhythm of daily life, you found yourself questioning truths you had once accepted without hesitation. This land was raw, its people fierce, yet you had begun to notice an undeniable beauty here. And with it came questions—questions that took root deep within your heart, challenging the very foundations of your beliefs.

At first, the differences between you and these people had seemed insurmountable. Their rituals, their prayers to unseen gods of thunder, fertility, the sea, and the harvest—all of it seemed like blasphemy to your ears. Yet, as the days turned to weeks, you saw their reverence, how their lives were woven with purpose and respect for the land, for each other, and for forces they couldn’t see but trusted in deeply.

They worship their gods as we worship ours, you thought one day, watching as a woman carved runes into a wooden charm meant to protect her family. They seek strength, guidance, blessings. Are they so different from us?

The question unsettled you, and you struggled against it, recalling sermons from your homeland, the teachings that painted pagans as savages, their gods as dark spirits. But there was light in these people, too, wasn’t there? A unity, a sense of duty, and a love for family that you had always been taught were the virtues of your own faith.

Your gaze often drifted to Athelstan, your quiet teacher and guide in this foreign world, who had once been a Christian monk but had found himself torn between the faith of his past and the gods of the North. You wondered if he felt the same turmoil you did. Perhaps he, too, had wrestled with questions of what was true and what had been constructed by the hands and minds of men. After all, Athelstan had once told you that the Vikings’ gods had existed long before Christ had walked the earth.

This thought lodged in your mind, growing roots you couldn’t shake. Could it be possible, you wondered late one night, lying awake in the cold silence of your home, that the stories of my faith were born from theirs?

You thought of the tales you’d been told in church, stories of miracles, sacrifices, and holy men who could summon storms, heal the sick, or commune with higher beings. But here, you had seen similar stories told around the fires in the evenings—stories of gods who controlled the weather, who guided their people, who demanded sacrifices to keep balance in the world. You watched the children listen with wide eyes, just as you once had, their awe and reverence echoing your own memories of kneeling in a grand church, captivated by stories of your God.

And the symbols—they weren’t as different as you’d once thought. The hammer of Thor, which hung on a leather cord around the neck of nearly every warrior, wasn’t so unlike the cross worn by priests and devout nobles back home. Both symbols represented strength, protection, a hope that something greater watched over you.

What if, you wondered, heart thundering with the weight of the thought, these people had seen the same truths but woven them differently? What if, in some ancient past, we had all followed the same gods, the same ways, and only time had divided us?

It was a question you dared not voice, even to Athelstan. But the idea stirred something within you, something that frightened and intrigued you all at once. You felt the weight of the cross you still wore around your neck, a symbol of your devotion, yet here, it felt somehow…lonelier than before. Was it possible that your understanding of the divine had been limited by the walls of a church, by teachings passed down without question?

Each day you rose and went about your new duties, the questions circling in your mind like a hawk over the fields. Each time you watched Rollo go to the sacred woods or pour mead onto the earth in an offering, you felt a strange pull, a whisper in your heart that perhaps the world was larger and more mysterious than you had ever allowed yourself to believe.

One night, as you lay beneath the northern stars, you found yourself praying, not just to your God but to whatever forces might hear you. A strange peace settled over you then, as if your heart had found a rhythm that it had been seeking all along, something beyond names and symbols—a sense of connection to the world around you, to the mysteries and wonders that spanned both your people and his.

For the first time, you felt that perhaps there was more than one way to honor the divine, more than one truth, and that perhaps, in marrying Rollo, you had not been lost to a foreign faith but rather drawn closer to understanding the many ways humanity sought to make sense of this world and the next.

***

One evening, after a long day of lessons, you returned to your new home, hoping for the comfort of a bath to soothe your weary body and mind. You went to the small, private bathing room, where a tub of steaming water awaited. But as you reached to untie your dress, you found yourself struggling, your hands fumbling clumsily over the stubborn knots at your back. Frustration welled up, and you cursed softly under your breath, wishing for just one familiar comfort in this strange, foreign life.

Suddenly, a presence loomed behind you, close enough that you could feel his warmth. You froze as a large, rough hand gently touched your shoulder.

“Let me,” came the deep voice, and you knew instantly it was Rollo. His voice was as rough as the northern winds, yet softer than you’d ever heard it, as if afraid to shatter the silence that had always lain between you.

You held your breath as he deftly began to untie the laces, his hands surprisingly gentle as he worked through the knots with ease. Neither of you spoke for a long moment, his closeness overwhelming, every brush of his fingers against your back sending sparks down your spine.

Once he had loosened the dress, he lingered, his hands resting against the fabric at your shoulders. You felt your heartbeat quicken, and with a shaky breath, you finally turned to look at him. His intense blue eyes met yours, filled with an unreadable depth.

“Thank you,” you murmured in Norse, proud yet hesitant as you stumbled over the unfamiliar sounds.

His lips curved, just barely, in something close to a smile. “You’ve learned our language well,” he replied, his voice low. “I am…impressed.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you looked down. “I wanted to understand. To not feel like a stranger here.” There was a long moment of silence before you finally spoke the question you had been wondering since you arrived. “Will we have a pagan wedding?”

Rollo looked at you with confusion. “We already had a wedding.”

“Yes, but that was a Christian wedding. Our marriage is not recognized in the eyes of your gods, therefore… we are not truly married. Not in the eyes of you or your people.” You held up your, now falling, dress as it slumped around your shoulders.

“Is that what you want? For us to not truly be married?” You hadn’t realized how difficult the answer to that question would be. You would have assumed you would have immediately said yes, but now, in this moment… you’re not so sure.

“It’s what you want, isn’t it? You do not love me.” Rollo scoffed at your words.

“As you do not love me, Princess.”

“Yes, but I love no one. You do love someone, it’s just not me.” Rollo’s eyes widened at your words and he came so close to you, you could feel his breath on your cheeks.

“What do you know of who I love?” You swallowed a lump in your throat, realizing you had hit a sensitive spot.

“I know more than you think, husband. I’m not some stupid and scared girl. The whole month I’ve been here, I’ve been quiet and observant.” Rollo rolled his eyes, taking a few steps back.

“And what is it that you have observed?” You nodded, holding your chin high in retort to his evident doubt.

“I’ve noticed that you are angry. At both yourself and your brother. You’re jealous of him. You feel you are less than and this makes you infuriated. I know you’re in love with Lagertha, but she has never shared that feeling. Though I never knew Siggy, I see the way you act when people talk about her. You loved her, but not in the way you love Lagertha. For this you carry guilt and it fuels your self hate. Did I observe correctly?” Rollo’s expression was one of frustration and astonishment.

“You’ve been busy, Princess. Do you agree with your observations? Am I less than Ragnar?” His question took you by surprise, but didn’t at the same time. The idea that he cares for your opinion is shocking, but not that he needs the validation.

“The truth?” He nods in response. “I think you are a great man. I think you’re honorable and kind. You’ve never forced yourself on me when you could have. You treat me well when you do not have to. As much as you are jealous of your brother, I truly believe that you love him and would not hurt him. You are an honorable warrior, which from my understanding is one of the things you Northmen pride yourselves on. Why you do not see yourself as such, I dont understand. Even my people back home knew your name, Rollo. The Bear, they called you.” A smile spread on his face at the name, and you couldn’t help the one that found yours. “I am proud to be the wife of a man with such high honor.” Rollo was silent for what felt like eternity, just staring at you. You began to feel self conscious, pulling your falling dress as high as you could, and dipped your head to hide your face. “Why are you just staring at me?”

“I suppose I’m surprised. You do not talk to me the entirety of our marriage and the first time you open your mouth you have insulted me and spoken so highly of me in one sitting. I thought you hated this marriage,” he said, each word measured. “I thought you hated…me.”

You looked up, startled by the honesty in his gaze. This was the first real conversation you’d had, the first true exchange, and it struck you how different he seemed now than the man you’d first met. Gone was the stoic warrior, replaced by a man with insecurities, a man who, perhaps, felt as much a stranger to you as you did to him.

“It was never hate,” you whispered, choosing your words carefully. “Fear, maybe. But not hate.”

His hand lifted, his fingers brushing against a strand of your hair as if testing the boundaries of this new understanding between you. “You are braver than you think,” he murmured, his voice like a quiet promise. “More brave than I.”

You swallowed, your heart thundering in your chest. “No, Rollo. Not braver than you.” He smiled, his hand slipping from your cheek to your neck.

“You speak your opinion where I cannot. That’s much braver than facing battle.” The hairs on the back of your neck stood as his hand danced from your neck to your exposed shoulder.

“Maybe we are just brave in different ways. Maybe we can teach each other.” He stepped closer, his fingers curling around the loose neckline of your dress.

“You want to learn to fight?” You shrugged, a smile finding your lips.

“If I am to be a Northeman’s wife, I should learn their ways, no? You teach me the skills of battle and I shall teach you the skills of wit.” He began to pull the fabric of your dress down and you clutched it. He stopped, his eyes meeting yours. “Rollo, I’m…” you realized you did not know what the word was in their language. You searched your mind for it.

“You’re what?” You took a deep breath, embarrassed to have to explain.

“I’ve never been with a man. I don’t know the word in your language.” Rollo chuckled, grabbing your small hand that was holding your dress up.

“Ah, virgin,” he said, squeezing your hand, as if to ask if he could remove your clothes.

“Virgin,” you repeat and he nods.

“Yes, Princess. You are my wife. Should we not bed at least once during our marriage?” You felt your cheeks getting hotter as you finally succumbed to him. Your hand released and your dress fell, pooling at your feet. Your hands covered your breasts, feeling too exposed. His large, scarred, hands clasped your wrists lightly, pulling them down to your sides. “There is no need to hide from me, my wife.” His calloused fingers ran down your exposed chest, to your stomach, stopping at your hip. Goosebumps lit ablaze across your whole body. “It is as if you were carved by the gods.” You giggled as he pulled you close, your bare chest now flush with his.

“As were you, Rollo.” Your palms lay against his chest.

“My gods or yours,” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I haven’t decided yet, but being here… I do question if my god is even real,” you say honestly.

“Are we turning you into a pagan,” you laugh, shrugging.

“I’m starting to think it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” With that, his lips are against yours, hot and wanting. You moaned into his mouth, entranced by how warm he is, how his beard tickled your cheeks with each synchronized movement of your lips. His hands gripped your hips, picking you up with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your lips never leaving one another. He walked you to the bed, gently laying you down.

He got off the bed, standing at the edge. You watched as he undid his pants. His eyes never leaving yours as he moved slowly to untie the laces. He is a man of beauty. Perfectly chiseled and large. His long hair flows down his chest and his tattoos perfectly caress his skin.

“After tonight, we will be officially married in the eyes of your god, no?” You peeled your eyes away from admiring his body to meet his gaze.

“Yes. We never… I don’t know the word. To make a marriage official, the man and wife must lie together.” He pulled his pants down, revealing himself to you fully, as you are to him. You sucked in a breath, an undeniable feeling of want and nervousness filling you.

“Do you want to lie with me? To truly be husband and wife?” He ran his finger along your collarbone, down to your nipple. He circled it lightly and you couldn’t help the moan that came with it. He smiled, licking his lips. You grabbed his wrist, using it to pull yourself to your knees. You are now face to face with him at the edge of the bed. You grabbed his other wrist, placing both palms on your breasts.

“I want you. Just- just be gentle, okay?” He kissed your cheek as his hands squeezed your chest.

“Northmen are not gentle. We do not fuck gently.” He kissed your neck.

“As much as I want you to fuck me like a Northman, I’ve been told your first time hurts.” You looked down at his already hard cock, feeling yourself getting more nervous. “And you are quite large.” This made Rollo laugh as he continued to trail kisses across your neck and chest.

“Don’t worry, Princess. Me and my large cock will be gentle.” You giggled and slapped his chest, making him laugh again. He laid you back down on the fur covered bed, climbing on top of you. You took in a deep breath as he spread your legs. “Don’t be nervous, my beautiful wife.” The words made butterflies erupt in your chest. He kissed your forehead, then both of your cheeks, easing the tightening in your stomach. He grabbed your hands, holding them above your head. He continued to leave gentle kisses as he slowly started to enter you. You squeezed his hands so hard you’re sure your knuckles were white as he pushed farther inside you. He is extremely large and you wince in pain from you being stretched open.

“Rollo,” you whined and he stopped, meeting your gaze. You gave yourself a minute to adjust, then nodded your head. He continued pushing in further until he was finally fully in you. He pulled out, then slowly thrusted back in. His movements were slow and gentle and eventually the pain turned into pleasure. Pleasure like you’ve never experienced. Your head tipped back and your mouth fell open, letting out a moan.

“Does it feel good, Princess?” His hot breath hit your neck as he whispered in your ear and it lit something wild in you.

“Go faster,” you moaned and wrapped your legs around his waist, giving him more access. You felt him push in deeper as he picked up his pace. He was hitting deeper and deeper inside you with each thrust and your eyes fluttered shut at the intense pleasure.

“You look so beautiful.” You opened your eyes to see he is staring at you, drinking in your appearance. Staring into his blue eyes makes all the sensations better. He rested his forehead against yours and you couldn’t help but fall in love with the way he is staring at you as he thrusts harder and deeper inside you. The room is filled with each other’s moans and gasps. You feel yourself reaching a point of release and you can tell he’s about to hit his too. He kissed you passionately as his thrusts become sloppier. You moaned into his mouth as a wave a euphoria rushed over you and your legs shake from utter pleasure. You feel him release inside you and he rides out his high with a few more thrusts.

He laid next to you on the bed and you rolled over to lay your head on his chest. His heart is beating fast and his breaths are short. You ran your fingers up and down his abdomen as you both fall into a comfortable silence. You’re not sure where you find your confidence, but the words that finally come out of your mouth surprise not only you, but Rollo.

“I do not love you, Rollo Lothbrok. But, I can see my falling in love with you.” You meet his shocked expression, but it eventually turns soft.

“Goodnight, my beautiful wife.”

***

The night air of Kattegat was alive with laughter and song, the flickering torchlight casting a warm glow over the village as the Vikings celebrated with wild abandon. Mead flowed like rivers, horns clashing in toasts to the gods, to family, to life itself. You felt the familiar warmth of the drink pulse through you, each sip lighting your blood with a fire you hadn’t known before coming to this land. Tonight, you danced without restraint, twirling with the crowd in the great hall, your feet moving with the beat of the drums, the earth beneath you thrumming with life.

You had grown accustomed to the spirit of Viking celebrations, their passion for life something you had come to appreciate. Though you were not of their faith, their customs, or their world, the sense of freedom here was intoxicating, a heady contrast to the strict life you had known. Tonight, you felt a part of it all. For the first time, you truly felt like you belonged.

The world around you was a blur of laughter, music, and flickering torchlight. You spun and swayed, your feet carrying you to the beat of the drums, your heart pounding with the thrill of freedom, of finally feeling as though you belonged here in Kattegat. The mead warmed your blood, filling you with a giddy lightness that melted away your reservations. This was a new side of you, one that you hadn’t known before—a part of you that had found joy in this wild land, surrounded by people who embraced life as fiercely as they embraced battle.

As you moved, you caught sight of Rollo, standing on the edge of the crowd, watching you. His intense gaze was steady, following your every movement. His face, usually hardened by shadows and silent restraint, now held something softer, almost tender. You felt his stare like a touch, tracing over you, lingering with an appreciation that made your pulse quicken. You and Rollo had not been able to go a few hours without being intimate since your first time.

Without thinking, you met his eyes and smiled, your feet carrying you closer. He didn’t move, his stare unwavering, as if transfixed. The other dancers melted away, leaving only him in your focus, your heart pounding louder than the drums. Before you could second-guess yourself, you held out your hand, a silent invitation, your eyes daring him to join you.

For a moment, Rollo hesitated, his usual guarded expression flickering with uncertainty. But then, slowly, he reached out, his large hand enveloping yours, and you pulled him into the crowd. He stumbled slightly, unused to this kind of playfulness, but his eyes remained locked on yours, an amused glint sparking there as he let you lead.

You laughed, feeling as though the walls between you and this man, the ones that both had been breaking down slowly, were finally crumbling completely. You pressed his hand to your waist, guiding him to follow your movements, his body close to yours as the drums echoed in the night. Though he towered over you, his presence solid and intense, you felt a softness in the way he held you, his grip firm but gentle.

“Are you sure you know how to dance, warrior?” you teased, your voice light and filled with the boldness that only mead could bring.

He huffed, a smirk breaking across his face. “Dancing is not the way of a Viking. At least not the way you dance, Princess,” he replied, his voice deep, but his eyes sparkled with unspoken laughter. “But for you… I will try.”

The two of you moved together, your laughter mingling as you guided him through each step, each sway. His movements were unpracticed, slightly stiff, yet he relaxed with every beat of the drum, letting himself be drawn into your rhythm. It was as if the crowd, the village, the night itself faded, leaving only the two of you bound in this moment, where titles and gods and duty did not matter.

You felt his hand tighten on your waist, pulling you closer, his other hand coming up to cradle the side of your face. The playful smiles faded, and in their place, a deeper warmth simmered between you, something vulnerable and unspoken.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” he murmured, his voice barely audible above the music, his gaze tracing your face as if memorizing every detail. “So Free. So Happy.”

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing over his hand. “I feel alive here, Rollo,” you whispered.

His thumb gently stroked your cheek, a tenderness in his touch that you’ve grown accustomed to since the night you first made love four months ago. “Then perhaps,” he said, his voice rough, “this land, this life, is more yours than you thought.”

You felt a swell of warmth in your chest, a feeling that chased away the last remnants of doubt. Here, with him, in this wild, untamed place, you had found a part of yourself you never knew was there—a part that yearned for freedom, for belonging, for love.

The drums beat on, but the world around you was still, your gaze locked with his, the silent understanding between you deepening. And as he lowered his forehead to rest against yours, his breath warm against your skin, you realized that the music had stopped. Everyone around you had gone quiet. You and Rollo broke contact to see the cause of it. Walking through the great hall doors was Athelstan. Bjorn had told you both that the monk had thrown his sacred arm ring into the fjord.

Rollo’s voice thundered through the crowd. “Athelstan,” he roared, his voice laced with anger.

The crowd quieted, all eyes turning to the monk-turned-Viking who had lived with one foot in both worlds. Rollo stormed toward him, his face twisted with rage, and gripped Athelstan’s wrist, holding it up for all to see. “Look at this man!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the night. “Where is your sacred ring, Athelstan? I was told you threw your ring, the one our king, Ragnar, gave you into the fjord!”

You felt the blood drain from your face as you watched, horrified by Rollo’s fury. You had always known Athelstan was a man of two worlds, like yourself—caught between his old faith and the ways of the Northmen. A pang of sympathy tore through you, a deep understanding of the pain and doubt he must have felt to make such a decision.

Athelstan’s eyes darted toward the crowd. “You have betrayed the gods who welcomed you,” Rollo growled. “You stand here, pretending to honor both, but now we see who you truly are.”

Ragnar pushed through the crowd and wrapped an arm around Athelstan’s shoulder. He dragged him away from the crowd, into a back room, whispering something in his ear.

The celebration resumed, though it was subdued, the laughter tinged with unease. You lingered near the fire, lost in thought, watching as Rollo stalked away, his jaw tight with anger. Before you knew it, you followed him, the words you’d held back now bubbling to the surface.

When you both arrived at your shared home, you closed the door behind you, crossing your arms as you gathered the courage to speak. “Why are you so angry at Athelstan?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended. “You’ve always known he was torn between both faiths, just as I am. Why is it different now?”

Rollo turned, his face dark and unreadable in the dim light. “You don’t understand,” he replied coldly. “Athelstan has cast aside his ring. He has thrown it away, shown us he has no loyalty to anything but his Christian god. He cannot be trusted.”

“Cannot be trusted?” you echoed, frustration flaring in your chest. “Athelstan has always been loyal to you, to your brother, to your people. His struggle with faith does not make him any less trustworthy.”

Rollo’s gaze hardened. “He is weak. He cannot choose between one god or another, and now I see he tried to be something he’s not. He insulted the gods by pretending to be one of us.”

“But you do not see it, Rollo,” you pressed, your voice trembling with a blend of anger and desperation. “I see myself in him. I, too, am torn between worlds—between my God and your gods, between my homeland and yours. Am I a betrayer because I am still finding my way?”

Rollo’s eyes flashed, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he just clenched his fists, his voice low and fierce. “You must choose as well. You cannot love both. You cannot be a Christian and a Viking.”

You shook your head, feeling a pang of sadness as you looked into his eyes. “Athelstan was struggling, just as I am. Faith is not a simple choice, Rollo. It’s complicated, and sometimes it takes time to understand what it truly means. He was searching for where he belongs, and he has found it. This does not mean he cannot love your people… just as I love you.”

Rollo’s shoulders tensed, his eyes going wide. It’s the first time you had said it. Neither of you had ever spoken those words. You weren’t even sure if Rollo loved you. You felt embarrassment and anger at his lack of words.

“Is this why we have not had a Viking wedding? Because you feel I have not chosen your gods?” You felt tears pricking your eyes, but you fought to hold them back.

“If you do not choose our gods, we will never be in Valhalla together.” You scoffed, wiping a tear that slid down your cheek.

“Why does it matter if I end up in Valhalla or Heaven? You clearly do not love me back, so why do you care which afterlife I spend my days?” You began to turn away from him, but he grabbed you wrist, pulling you into his chest. His hand met your cheek, wiping away one of your tears.

“I do love you. But everyone I have ever loved either died or did not love me back.” You met his gaze and your heart hurt at the sight of tears in his eyes.

“Rollo, everyone dies. Just because the people around you die, does not mean you’re the cause of it. You cannot be afraid of death. You, more than anyone, know that. You Northmen do not fear death.”

“It is not death that I fear. What I fear is loving a woman who will not join me in Valhalla. It is not being able to spend eternity with you.” You stood on your toes to reach his lips. You gave him a soft kiss, then pulled away to meet his sadden gaze.

“I love you and I would do anything to spend eternity with you. We were fated to be together, Rollo. I can feel it. No matter what god willed it to be.” He looked down at you, his expression softening further, the anger that had once filled his gaze replaced by something warmer, deeper. In that moment, you felt that perhaps, just as Athelstan was searching, you and Rollo were finding something—a bridge between worlds, a space where faith, love, and understanding could coexist, no matter how different they seemed.

“We were fated to be together.” He pulled you as close as he could, kissing you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, standing taller to deepen the kiss. When you pulled away, you were both out of breath.

“Does this mean we will have a wedding?” He let out a deep chuckle, nodding.

“Yes, of course we will.” A smile spread across your face.

“Good, because I wouldn’t want our child to be born without married parents.” You grabbed his hand, resting it on your belly. His face lit with excitement and he let out a laugh.

“You’re… you’re with child?” You nodded, tears falling freely to see the joy that found his rough and beautiful face. He picked up you, twirling you around. You let out a laugh as he set you down, kissing you.

You nodded, unable to stop smiling. “Yes, Rollo. You’re going to be a father.”

He let out a shout of pure happiness, his arms wrapping around you again, holding you tight as if he were afraid you might disappear. His hand returned to your stomach, resting there reverently, his thumb brushing over the place where new life grew.

“I cannot believe it,” he murmured, his eyes shining. “You… you have given me more than I ever thought possible.”

The look in his eyes was raw, filled with joy, wonder, and a fierce love that made your heart swell. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally, his lips met yours in a tender, lingering kiss, his hand still resting protectively over your stomach.

When he pulled back, he grinned down at you, his expression so soft, so full of love that it nearly took your breath away. “You have given me a family,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I will protect you both. I will give you everything I am, everything I have. I swear it.”

The drums beat on around you, the celebration continuing in the background, but in that moment, the world felt like it held only the two of you, wrapped in a love you hadn’t dared dream of, a love that had grown against all odds.

And as you stood there, feeling the warmth of his hand on your stomach, you knew that whatever came next, you and Rollo would face it together—with joy, with strength, and with a love that was stronger than any doubt, any fear, any past that had once divided you.

[vikingsmasterlist]

Call of Thunder

One

Two

Three

[fantasydreamland]

Answered Prayers

ragnar lothbrok x fem reader

Summary: After being captured by the Vikings your prayers to god remain unanswered, as you come to realize they always have. An intriguing Viking man teaches you of their ways, and all your prayers are answered. (No language barrier & Ragnar is unmarried for the sake of the story).

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smuttt, maybe some fluff, loss of virginity, p in v, fingering, oral (f), angst, kidnapping/violence/raiding in opening story, possible spoilers.

Word count: 3.7k

I’m very into Norse spirituality so I loved writing this

masterlist

Everyone in the city moves in a panic as the bells ring, alarms in response to the Northmen pulling up to your shores. You find a spot in your house to hide and clutch your cross close to your chest as you pray to god to protect you from these heathens.

A bang startles you as a Viking man kicks down your door. Your heart races as you hear him tearing apart the house searching for valuables. You hear screams outside and continue whispering prayers to god begging him to keep you from being found.

The Viking eventually finds you hiding in a corner between your bed and the wall. Your heart stops when his bright blue eyes meet yours. His eyes examine you from head to toe before he smirks.

“Please… please don’t kill me.” You beg through oncoming tears. “Take whatever you want, just please.”

“Come.” He reaches his hand out for you to take.

You look up at him with furrowed brows in confusion.

“You said I can take whatever I want.” The man says. “So come.”

“No, no, please. Please don’t hurt me…” You cry.

“If you come with me, I will have no reason to hurt you.” He steps closer. “Otherwise…” He gestures to the axe in his hand.

You sniffle as you get up onto your feet. The Viking gestures his hand out to you again which you reluctantly take. He rushes out of the house, dragging you along with him. A small shriek escapes you as your eyes take in the dead bodies and blood everywhere. The man pays no mind to any of it as he pulls you through the city and leads you right out the front gates and into their Viking camp.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” A large Viking man with long dark hair approaches you. You pull away as he tries to brush hair from your face.

“Leave her be.” Your captor says as more of the men come over to ogle at you.

“Why? She is a useless Christian. Only good for one thing...” The man smirks at you.

“She is mine, keep your hands to yourself Rollo.” Your captor replies. “That goes for all of you! No one touches her, she belongs to me.”

You take a small breath of relief before your captor grabs your hand again and leads you far from the group and into a tent.

“Sit.” The man gestures to a small cot. “What is your name?”

“(y/n).” You say as you sit.

“(y/n)…” He hums. “Interesting name. I’m Ragnar Lothbrok.”

“Thank you Ragnar.” You say lowly.

“For what?”

“Out there, protecting me from the other men…” You respond. “And I guess… thank you for not killing me.”

“Like I said to the men, you are mine. They will not harm you as long as you are with me, understand?”

You nod your head.

“What are you going to do with me?” You ask.

He smirks in response before looking you up and down, making you nervous.

“I have not decided yet.” He shrugs with a smirk still on his face.

**********

The journey back to their land was long and dreadful. You had never been on a boat before and the ride made you nauseous. Ragnar kept a close eye on you and made sure no one bothered you.

As soon as they dock Ragnar quickly sneaks you away like he is trying to hide you. He leads you to his small farmhouse outside of town.

“Am I your slave now?” You ask once inside.

He laughs at your response and you scowl.

“I have no need for slaves.” He shrugs.

“If you wish to cook or clean for me, or do other things…” He smirks at you suggestively, making you blush. “I would certainly not object, but you will not be forced to do anything.”

“So I am not a slave… but I am not a free woman?” You question.

“Yes.” He simply responds.

“Then why am I here?”

“I do not know. The gods have not revealed your purpose to me yet.”

“There is only one god.” You say sternly.

He laughs again making anger rise in your cheeks.

“Maybe your god will reveal to you your purpose then.” He says teasingly.

**********

The next couple days were surprisingly peaceful. You did not dare to try and leave the house. Although he never asked you to, you cooked and cleaned mostly to have something to occupy your time but Ragnar appreciated you either way. He would disappear for most of the day to god knows where, but when he returned you would have a hot meal waiting for him.

Ragnar would ask many questions, about your life and your god. You asked about him in return and he told you all about his adventures and of his gods.

“Are you a virgin?” Ragnar asks out of nowhere while you are eating supper.

You choke on your drink, the question taking you off guard.

“Pardon?”

“Well, you are unmarried right?” He continues. “I have heard Christians remain virgins until they are married.”

“Well, um, yes. It would be a sin otherwise.” You respond shyly.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why is it a sin?” He asks with curiosity in his tone.

“I- um, I don’t know. It’s just a sin. You should only make children with your husband or wife.”

“Well, that is a bit silly isn’t it?”

“What is so ‘silly’ about that?” You scowl.

“Because making children is not the only reason to have sex.” He shrugs.

“What do you mean?” You ask, heat rising in your cheeks from annoyance and another feeling you couldn’t quite place.

“Do they teach you nothing?” He raises his brow.

“Not really… especially us women. They keep us sheltered from everything.”

“Well,” He says, taking the food bowl from your hands and placing it down.

He leans towards you until his breath brushes your ear, sending shivers up your spine.

“Sex can provide you with the greatest of pleasures…” He says lowly in your ear, your heart races. “If you know where to touch.” His fingers graze up your knee.

“Your gods… they do not care if you sin?” You ask but it comes out as a whisper.

He chuckles.

“To our gods, it is not wrong. The gods gave us the gift of such pleasure, why would they deny us from taking it?” He shrugs.

“I guess that is true…” You whisper.

“I can show you our ways, if you want.” He says with a devilish grin, moving his hand back to your knee.

“What? No. No I- Um, no… thank you.” You stutter, taken aback by his offer.

“Well, if you change your mind you know where to find me.” He whispers in your ear before standing and cleaning up from supper.

You go to bed early, trying to hide your flushed cheeks since your conversation. Ragnar eventually begins to lightly snore from the next room that was only separated by a thin wall with gaps you could see through. His words replay in your head, “greatest of pleasures if you know where to touch.”. Curiosity gets the better of you as you lightly trace your fingers along your neck and collarbone, the feeling creating goosebumps. Without even realizing, you start imagining Ragnar’s hand as yours travels lower. You grab onto your breast before your hand continues down. Your fingers tease at the hem of your pants before slowly moving down into them. You lightly touch the sensitive skin and it sends a jolt through you making you gasp louder than intended. You hear Ragnar stir in the next room and you quickly pull your hand from your pants as you look to him, still asleep. You sigh and try to get comfortable to sleep. Everything that has happened within the last few days has left you so lost and confused. You have been praying to god every day but nothing changes, nothing reassures you and what you are supposed to do in this place. Your mind continues to race until sleep eventually pulls you under.

**********

“I would like to go into the mountain to pray.” You say to Ragnar.

“Why? So you can run away?” He gives you a teasing scoff.

You can’t hide the small laugh that escapes your lips.

“You know I would not make it very far without you.” You roll your eyes at him. “Besides, I need you to show me the way.”

“Alright then… perhaps tomorrow.” He shrugs.

“No, today.” You push. “Right now… please.”

You were desperate to have a moment of solitude and a private moment speak to god.

“Very well, we should go now while the sun is still high.” Ragnar says as he heads towards the door, you stand and follow after him.

He leads you up the hills of the forest until you reach a clearing facing the water. The stunning view took your breath away.

“I… I need to be alone.” You say to Ragnar.

“Do not try to escape.” He winks at you. “I will be just down this hill when you are done.”

You give him a grateful smile and you watch him walk away until he is out of sight. Turning back to face the edge of the cliff, you close your eyes take a deep breath as you feel the breeze brush across your face. You crouch to the ground onto your knees and bring your hands together in prayer.

“Heavenly father… Please help me to find my path. I feel so lost in this unfamiliar world and do not know what I am to do next or who I am meant to be now… And I feel… as if my prayers to protect and watch over me have gone unanswered, especially when I was taken by these people.” You pray with tears coming to your eyes. “Please god, if you are there, if you are watching over me… if you are real… please send me a sign.”

You open your eyes and watch for any sort of sign that your god is with you. Nothing happens.

“Please, give me any sign so I know you are watching over me as I have always believed.”

You wait again, and wait, and wait. The world was still, not even a stronger gust of wind to show a possible sign from god.

You drop your hands into your lap in defeat. Tears begin to roll down your cheeks until an idea crosses your mind. You breathe out a laugh to yourself feeling a bit silly for what you were about to try. You bring your hands back together but instead have a strange urge to connect to the earth. You bow, reaching your hands forward into the ground, feeling the dirt and grass between your fingers.

“Odin…” You close your eyes and begin, whispering so quietly it’s nearly silent. “Freyja… Thor… Please hear me. Hear my prayers. Help me, guide me, to who I am supposed to be now… what I am supposed to do.”

Suddenly, a raven lets out a loud ‘caw’ startling you. Your head shoots up and you look to the bird watching you from a rock to your side. Your heart races and your eyes go wide as you watch each other. A tickle on your hand makes you look down to see a white butterfly that landed on you. You lift your hand to admire it and it flies around your head before flying away, at the same time the raven flies off with it.

As your brain tries to comprehend the unmistakeable signs that the pagan gods are answering your prayers, you hear a rumble of thunder. The skies turn grey within a matter of seconds before rain suddenly begins to pour down. You stand and let out a laugh of disbelief as you spread your arms wide and look to the sky as you let out a heavy breath of relief. The rain washed over your entire being, cleansing you of your troubles. It felt like a different kind of baptism, a rebirth.

“(y/n)?” You hear Ragnar call from behind you.

You turn to him with a wide smile on your face. He noted how beautiful you were when you smiled like that, he realized he had never seen more than a faint one cross your lips.

“Are you alright?” He smiles back at you. “We should head back. Thor’s wrath may become brutal soon if we remain all the way out here.”

“No, he is speaking to me.” You smile, making Ragnar’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Your gods… the gods…” You continue. “They answered my prayers…”

“So, suddenly you believe in our gods now?” He teases. “And what of your god?”

“The Christian god has never answered my prayers. Never even given a small sign he is with me.” You explain. “I prayed to Odin, and a raven appeared… Freyja, a white butterfly landed on my hand the same moment… and Thor…” You gesture to the skies the rain continues to pour down from.

You walk closer to Ragnar.

“I want to teach me your ways…” You say lowly.

“All of our ways?” He smirks, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“All of your ways…” You say as you move even closer until your noses brush.

He traces his finger up your neck, making you shiver. His finger continues to move along your jaw before he gently lifts your chin, making your eyes meet his piercing blue ones. “Are you sure about that?” He says with his classic devilish smirk.

Instead of responding you bring your lips to his, which was answer enough. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back hungrily, a small growl escaping him. He cups your cheeks as the rain pours down on you both, the kiss is wet and passionate. His tongue demands entrance to your mouth and you let him take the lead, following along a little awkwardly. His hands move from your face down to your hips as he pulls you against him. The hardness pushing against your stomach makes you gasp.

“Do you wish to return to the house…” Ragnar whispers, against your lips before kissing you again.

“No… I want you to take me right here… under the eyes of Thor and all the gods watching over us…” You whisper back, bringing your hand to his cheek.

Your words light a fire in Ragnar as your eyes meet in an intense gaze. He reaches out and begins to slowly pull at the strings of your dress. His eyes watch yours carefully, as if daring you to stop him. You would do no such thing. Once the ties were loose you let him pull the dress off your shoulders, completely exposing your breasts. They instantly perk up in the cold chill of the rain, droplets of water falling down your skin. A moan escapes you as he leans down and takes one in his mouth, flicking his tongue over your sensitive nipple. Your entire body felt aflame. You welcomed every cold raindrop that touches your heated skin.

His sinful tongue continues to explore down your stomach until he’s on his knees in front of you. You look down at him with lust filled eyes as pulls down the skirts of your dress, leaving you completely bare for him. His gaze meets yours as he squeezes your thighs hard and gives you a smirk.

“Ragnar what are you-“

Your words are cut off when his tongue licks your most intimate area. You gasp and whine as he begins to messily eat you. Your legs shake and wobble as you try to hold onto his shoulders.

“Ragnar I can’t…” You breathe.

He could sense you were barely able to hold yourself up. In one swift movement he hooks your legs over his shoulders and you yelp as he lifts you up. His tongue does not stop working at your bundle of nerves as he walks you over to a tree. You lean your back against the rough bark. The feeling of him was so overwhelming that you hardly felt the tree scratching at your skin. He ate you ravenously like a man starved. Your hands quickly find their way into his hair, tugging lightly, he grunts against you in response. You pant as you look up to the grey rainy skies, the entire moment felt like a dream. A knot begins to tighten in your stomach and your vision starts to blur. Ragnar dips his tongue into your entrance and that is your undoing. You scream out as your thighs squeeze tightly around his head. You would be worried about hurting him but you could swear you felt him grinning against you as his tongue works you through your orgasm.

Ragnar carefully lowers you back to the ground, you feel both your body and your mind come back down to earth. You shiver as he lays you down on the cold wet ground. He removes his now soaked shirt before climbing over you and capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, you moan at the taste yourself as your tongues dance together.

He stands again to quickly remove his pants, your eyes widen at his length before he climbs back on top of you.

“Are you certain?” Ragnar asks lowly, noticing your worried expression.

“Yes but… I don’t think it will fit…” You whisper shyly.

He gives a cocky chuckle before he begins kissing on your neck.

“It will.” He mumbles against your skin.

You feel him rub his length against your core making you whine and buck your hips in response.

“So eager.” He smirks.

He slowly begins pushing in making you grimace in pain. You instantly question his reassurance that it will fit.

“Shh,” Ragnar tries to soothe you.

His lips move back to your neck kissing, sucking and biting, trying his best to distract you from the pain. You moan at the feeling before he pushes right through the barrier and you gasp loudly. Ragnar groans loudly as he feels you squeezing tightly around him like a vice. You pant heavily with tears in your eyes as you adjust to his size. He does not move until you’re ready, then he starts pushing in and out slowly. The pain soon fades and you wrap your legs around him, forcing him deeper into you.

“Please…” You breathe out.

“Please what?” Ragnar whispers directly in your ear, making you shudder.

“More…”

“More what?” He teases you.

“Ragnar, please.” You groan in frustration. “Faster. Harder. Give me more.”

He smirks before finally obliging your wishes and starts pounding into you relentlessly. You quickly begin to see stars as your second orgasm washes over you and you cry out his name. Ragnar slows his pace once you have hit your peak.

“So this is…” You pant. “This is how Vikings… fuck?”

“We fuck however we want to.” He says as he kisses your neck, still hard inside you. “Viking women enjoy riding their men like wild horses.” He mumbles against your skin, like a challenge.

“Then I shall do that…” You say as you sit up and force Ragnar onto his back.

Ragnar’s eyes widen as you move to straddle him.

“I shall ride you like a wild horse.” You look down and meet his eyes, fire in your eyes and a devilish smirk on your lips. “I shall fuck you like a true Viking woman.”

He does not take his eyes off you for one second as you start to sink back down onto his cock, causing your mouth to drop at the feeling. Being new to all of this, you awkwardly try to bounce up and down until Ragnar grips your hips and guides you to move them back and forth.

“Oh…” You moan, eyes rolling back.

You follow his direction and rock your hips back and forth, increasing the speed. The position sends tingles through your entire body. Ragnar watches you in amazement, taking in every inch of your wet naked body as your beautiful moans ring in his ears. His hands move from your hips to grab your breasts and you ride him harder in approval, earning a groan from him.

You still felt like you were dreaming. You had lived such a strict sheltered life and felt so trapped for so long… But as the grey clouds swirl above you and the rain pours down over your shamelessly naked body, as you ride this god of a man who made your entire body vibrate with life, as you cried out loud enough for the gods to hear, as your prayers had finally been answered and your path now clear, as you feel your very souls connect. For the first time in your entire life… you felt free.

Your peak hits you even more intense than any time before, zings of pleasure radiate throughout your entire being. You felt yourself cry out Ragnar’s name but the sudden crack of lightning in the distance completely drowned out the sound. Your eyes shot open and you caught a glimpse of the fast line of lighting across the mountains at the same moment you came. Ragnar digs his fingers hard into your hips as he finds his own release. A loud rumble of thunder booms as he chokes out a moan. In that moment you felt so tremendously powerful, like a you were a god and goddess.

As you come down from your high the rain suddenly becomes much lighter. Panting, you look down at Ragnar who’s grinning smugly up at you. You give him a smirk back before leaning down and capturing his lips in a hungy kiss, your tongue instantly demands entrance and Ragnar happily obliges, moving his hand to your cheek as he eagerly kisses you back.

You roll off of him onto the wet grass, the rain now stopping completely. You felt so wild and free you that had no care about the mud that had gotten all over you.

“So…” Ragnar huffs, still catching his breath. “You really believe in our gods now?”

“They answered my prayers…” You respond, also panting. “It is hard to deny their existence after all of that.”

Ragnar just grins at you.

“We should get cleaned up.” He says as he stands, lending a hand to help you up.

As you stand he pulls you into a quick passionate kiss.

“Welcome to my world, (y/n).” Ragnar smiles.

masterlist

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury

Sample Size: 1,215 stories

Source: AO3

[rolloollor]

The first chapter of my mallerollo vampire AU is out! I'm really excited to finally share this fic!!

Haixin has once again agreed to provide us with lovely artwork! Rollo looks amazing here. So much gravitas! Perfect for a vampire~ Not every chapter will have a piece to go with it, but I know each one we get will be amazing!

The fic is just over 40k long. It's in the same category as Sacerdos in my head, which maybe will make sense after reading both or maybe it won't. But there's a nice role reversal in this fic, so look forward to seeing different sides of both Malleus and Rollo.

Summary of the fic:

On a trip to an abandoned village, Malleus Draconia encounters more than simple ruins. A living relic, once called Father Rollo Flamme, lies in wait in the bowels of a decaying church...

[eloquentcoconut]

TWST Magicam Usernames

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･︵👻°

This post is just for fun.

I have stylized their handles based on Instagram.

Irl a lot of their handles would just be their name, and their bio and posts would be filled with relevant info, or they simply wouldn't have a magi account lets be ffr.

I wanted to include magicam/texting in my 'TWST Upon A Time' fic (ao3/wattpad/quotev) and I didn't want the usernames to be mundane, I'm sharing the list early.

I'd love to hear your headcannon about what their magicam usernames could be, comment or tag me in your post!

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･︵👻°

🌹 Heartslabyul

🌹 Riddle - @ riddle.rule025

Riddle's bio would be one of the queen's rules, and would change based on what he's feeling that day, like if MC brought Grim to a festivity it would read: "Queen's rule 023."

(Initially Riddle made a magi account to help Cater study, I picked what I thought could be his fav rule: have a tea party on the 5th of every month. It's the funnest rule, probably.)

🌹 Trey - @ experimentswclover

(Trey is too modest to call himself a scientist or a baker, the 'w' stands for 'with'. Trey would post his baking and the science club's experiments.)

🌹 Cater - @ caterd.updates

Cater's bio would read: "Your daily dose of vitamin C."

(I'm surprised the game never states Cater's magi ID, but Idia's gamer handle is fair game. 'Caterd' as in 'catered' and 'Cater Diamond' and since Cater isn't a magicam monster I put 'updates' instead of 'vlogs'.)

🌹 Deuce - @ magicalwheels4lifer

(Deuce really enjoys his magical wheels, '4life' was already taken so he added an 'r' to show he's more passionate about the magical wheel lifestyle. if Deuce wasn't so straight forward, he could have a handle like 'hotwheelsluvr')

🌹 Ace - @ ace.of.the.court

Ace's bio would read: "Ace'd it!"

(Ace enjoys and is good at basketball; he's the teams ace - his name is a pun.)

🐾 Savanaclaw

🐾 Leona - @ ambitiousoutlier1

('Ambitious' is referencing 'Be Prepared' lyrics: 'our teeth and ambitions are bared.' And 'outlier' in short means 'to stand apart from other members of a group' Sounds familiar huh? 🤧 I also added a number to match with Vil and Malleus.)

🐾 Ruggie - @ bucchiiena

(There was no graceful way to incorporate donuts without running into a nut joke. Ruggie's name looks Italian, BUT 'buchi' in Japanese is referencing 'buchi hyena' meaning 'spotted/speckled hyena' Following this, iena in Italian means 'hyena')

🐾 Jack - @ moonlitxtrack00

(Jack is on the track team, his UM in EN server is called 'unleash the beast' but in the JPN server it's called 'howl to break the moonlit night.' )

🌊 Octavinelle

🌊 Azul - @ azzurrpod

(Azul means blue, Azul in Italian can be written 'azzurro' and 'pod' is from 'cephalopod' I don't know what type of octopus Azul is so cephalopod covers that.)

🌊 Jade - @ shiiock.ing

((Although he is a moray eel, Google has just informed me these eels are not electric but will bite)) (Shocking + shiitake. Referencing his UM 'shock the heart' and his fav mushroom, or at least a reference to his mushroom hobby.)

🌊 Floyd - @ whimsqueeze

Floyd's bio would read: "Nice argument. One small problem. I am inside your walls @ username"

(Floyd tags a new person in his bio to tease every once in a while, it's usually Riddle.)

(Floyd changes his mind on a whim, and likes to squeeze people, and altogether it sounds like 'whimsy')

🦜 Scarabia

🦜 Kalim - @ kalimthesun.x

('In the sun' is a phrase used to describe a favorable position. BUT that's not why Kalim picked it, he just likes the sunshine. Trying to highlight how he means well but his ignorance can make it look otherwise.)

(Kalim would unironically post motivational captions with his posts, and all of his parties/festivities.)

🦜 Jamil - @ strategicurry

(Jamil's fav food is curry, but also the phrase 'to curry favor' suits him - it means 'praising someone in order to benefit oneself' i.e. to be insincere. He's also strategic.)

💜 Pomefiore

💜 Vil - @ xfairest1oax

(Matching x's with Rook just bc. Quoting the Evil Queen "who is the fairest one of all.")

💜 Rook - @ xchausseur.d.amourx

(Rook calls himself the 'chasseur d'amour' and the x's are tone indicators that elicit "?" His feed is like his dorm room, I will not eleborate.)

💜 Epel - @ muscles.n.apples

(This speaks for itself, Epel wants muscles to be seen as the manliest man ever and is an apple farm boy. Epel would post about his manly injuries and manly sports like making the magishift team, and his apple dishes/creations.)

🦋 Ignihyde

🦋 Idia - @ gloomurai

(Idia's gamer/streamer (?) handle in the game is gloomy + samurai. He would use his account to promote his gamming channel.)

🦋 Ortho - @ cheerinja

(The opposite of Idia's handle yet one can see the similarities, siblings fr. Cheery + ninja.)

🍵 Diasominia

🍵 Malleus - @ gaogao2tsunotarou

(Call back to gao gao drgaon, and MC's nickname for Malleus: Tsunotarou. Malleus probably made a secret account with the help of MC and posts about gargoyles and the abandoned places he likes to visit. Malleus would like all of his friends' posts, even if not all of them have figured out it's him.)

🍵 Lilia - @ rougebat

Lilia's bio would read: "My follower count is the number of bats currently in my pocket."

(Rouge the bat lol, but his gamer name in twst is 'Muscle Crimson' - but I figured he'd use different handles for different interests. Rouge is from his surname Vanrouge and he's got like a vampire/bat aesthetic thing going on.)

🍵 Silver - @ swordsmansilver

Silver's bio would read: "A mirmir? A mirmir."

(His bio is a "Fault in our Stars" reference and 'a mirmir' is a cute baby way of saying 'a dormir' which means 'to sleep' You think sleepyhead is awake long enough to keep up with all the online trends?)

(Silver trains with a sword and is quite proficient, so swordsman.)

🍵 Sebek - @ number1.malleus.draconia.stan

Sebek's bio would read: "If my liege has a million admirers, I am one of them. If my liege has 1000 admires, I'm one of them. If my liege has 1 admirer, it's me. If my liege has 0 admirers, it means I have left this world. If the world is for my liege I am with the world. If the world is against my liege, then I am against the world. "

(This is the best he could do so he wouldn't hit character count.)

(He would post stuff like: "Waka-sama took a sip of tea today. Effervescent.")

☁️ Misc.

☁️ Thorn (TWST OC/MC) - @ alienprotag

(Alien + protagonist. Thorn calls themselves an alien, and protagonist is a nod to their role. They'd make their own memes and take aesthetic photos of nature, seldom themselves.)

☁️ Grim - @ thegreatgrimsorcererextraordniare

(Grim calls himself "The great Grim, sorcerer extraordinaire." Grim shares a phone with MC, not sure how literate/techy he would be. If Grim posted photos of himself, he would have 2 followers: MC and Idia.)

☁️ Che'nya - @ mischat.vous

(Mischievous with the word chat (cat) in the center. He's just a little mischievous cat guy.)

☁️ Neige - @ daydreaminsnow

(I had 'Daydreamin' by AG stuck in my head when I wrote this, Neige is naive, and wistful, I think it suits him. And of course Neige means snow.)

☁️ Skully - @ jackskellingtonsama.fan001

(Return of the fanboy, watch out Sebek! My info on Skully. J. Graves is from snippets I see online, what's the "J" stand for?)

☁️ Rollo - @ devotedsolace

(There isn't religion in the game, but with his vaguely religious wording, and guilt, c'mon now. He's devoted to his beliefs and that bell.)

☂️ Staff

☂️ Dire Crowley - @ corvidaee

Is he a raven? Is he a crow? I guess we'll never know. Loves falling for those fake/scam posts that read "like/follow/tag/share/post for your chance to win x prize" Hello 'my strange addiction' 🫠

☂️ Divus Crewel - @ creweltobekind

Fashion critic blog, posts his wardrobe, his dogs, and savage/funny fashion roast videos (that a lot of people agree with.) Also a micro influencer in that sense.

☂️ Mozus Trein - @ m.train

Bio: Husband & Father 👧👧👧🐱 | History Buff 📚 | Retired World Traveler 🌏

(He has 3 daughters?) His kids set up his account since facebook is for oldies. He only uses it to interact with their posts or talk to them. Extra: (idk if his daughters names are revealed in game, but I'm calling them: Desireea, Anneliese, and Ellery.)

☂️ Sam - @ mysteryshop.yretsympohs

Mystery shop mirrored ^ A businessman through and through. He's the opposite of Taylor Swift (BEAR with me now! 🧸) As in if you don't interact with select posts the price of eggs will coincidentally go up. Also posts cryptic ways to save on his wares.

☂️ Ashton Vargas - @ aton.ofweights

Micro fitness influencer. Like a decade ago would post 5x a day typical gym shark/gym bro selfies and workout videos, before working at nrc. He thought he'd get popular with women, but his audience is 90% men and brand deals. Only posts now if its sponsored or he remembers he has an account, and a bit of nrc coaching/games - can't give away the secret training regimen to lossing - what if rsa saw!?

🔮 This post is subject to change.

°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･︵👻°

[keikaru]

Blue Brooch - TWST (Rollo & Yuu)

“Don’t you agree, Yuu?” Rollo’s eyes flicker to the Ramshackle Prefect.

“I believe magic can be a useful tool. Intent behind everything is what stirs our actions. On some level, I agree with you, Rollo. Magic…is the reason why I’m trapped here.”

Rollo narrows his eyes as a generous frown slips across his face. After a pensive pause, he crosses his arms.

“What do you mean by trapped? All barrier spells have a weak point, but that is beside the point.”

“If this is fate’s form of amusement, I’m not laughing. I want to go home, Rollo. If magic brought me to this world, then it’s only natural for magic to bring me back home…right? How can I go home?” Their words grow inaudible near the end, but Rollo catches it before the slow groan of the trap door shuts.

Rollo walks over to Yuu. He brushes the firelotus from their hair. When Yuu meets their gaze, the dying sun extinguishes in Yuu’s eyes.

Sanguine wisps flicker around them, bathing the hall in a crimson light. A solemn silence returns to the halls of Nobel Bell College. Above them, the chandelier burns red like wildfire. A sweet fragrance fills the air, and the blossoms swell and sway from the pulse of magic.

Rollo readies a wind spell to divert the fluttering flora. When he glances at Yuu again, their expression immobilizes him.

Their eyes shimmer like a deep aquamarine, like the rise and sigh of the ocean, the faraway, impenetrable blue sky. It stuns Rollo to silence when Yuu captures the sky in the blue brooches of their eyes.

And just like that, a cluster of blooms fall from the chandelier above them.

Yuu’s face betrays a longing for something else, for something beyond his understanding. Despite perusing through volumes of books, there’s no knowledge his mind can retrieve to explain the uncomfortable humming in his heart.

He retracts his hand, and glances elsewhere. Rollo clears his throat.

“Firelotuses won’t harm you. But their blooms grow more sanguine with each passing moment, so should be the expression on your face, Prefect Yuu.”

Masterpost of drabbles | AO3 | Kofi

[ladyosen]

Fic Reclist from October 2024

Another Fic Reclist featuring some of the stories I read in October. Twisted Wonderland. Featured ships are Jack/Jade, Malleus/Rollo, Trey/Jade, and Vil/Epel.

Twisted Wonderland

I Want You by TheFabFox-Jack/Jade.

After a chance encounter, Jack and Jade start to see each other in a new light. This is a sweet, fun romance that I highly recommend!

see you next time by istilllikekhr-Malleus/Rollo

Malleus starts to visit Rollo once a week and Rollo warms to him despite himself. Sweet romance with Rollo being his stubborn self.

Drowning by Indigo_and_teal-Trey/Jade (WIP)

An accident in flight class brings Trey and Jade close. The characterization and development is delicious, with a clear attention to detail.

all my bad behavior, a necessary strain by loudernow-Vil/Epel (NSFW)

Fun Vil/Epel smut fic where Epel gets drunk at a party and Vil also indulges a little too much.

[entitled-fangirl]

if.... IF I was to write for Vikings...

I'M ONLY ON S2 SO EVERY OTHER CHARACTER WILL JUST HAVE TO WAIT

[ryuzakemo128]

Vikings Writing Prompts

Trigger Warning:

Mention of Death, fighting, miscarriages, suicide.

If anything mentioned above triggers you. Please remove yourself and continue with your day. Your mental health is just as important as your physical health. Vice versa, as the mind can affect the body in equal measure.

Prompts for either imagines, headcanons, one-shots, anything you possibly desire. As long as it is clearly stated as to what character you want it written for. Otherwise I will not be able to satisfy the particular itch you might or might not want itched and scratched.

Characters from the Vikings Show that I am willing to write for as follows:

Male Characters

Rollo Lothbrok

Ívar Ragnarsson

Björn Ragnarsson

Ubbe Ragnarsson

Athelstan

Hálfdanr Hálfdansson

Haraldr Hálfdansson

Female Characters:

Lagertha Lothbrok

Aslaug Sigurdsdottir

Personal Note: I would also preface that I will not write things that trigger me. Things like Cheating and Affairs. At least not in incredible detail as it will harm and hurt my mental health in the long run. And if you respect my mental health, you will respect my personal boundaries as well.

If you would like to peruse my previous works in the past feel free to do so. I will not prevent nor shame those who would want to read them.

Here is a link to two masterlists that contain them.

Masterlist 01 / Masterlist 02

Prompts

Listed below are prompts to choose from if you want to make a specific request for a specific character. First list being SFW and the second one being NSFW underneath the cut.

SFW - Dialogue Prompts

"Whatever souls are made of, yours and mine are the same. As much you might dispute that fact."

"You could just tell me things instead of insinuating them. Communication is important."

"Let me eat my feelings in peace and quiet. Otherwise we are going to have many, many, many problems."

"I know I can't go I'm the one getting nearly all the time."

"I don't trust anyone who would place value of one child above another. Regardless of what someone else may or may not have said."

"For a mother you play favourites quite a bit."

"Depends on what you consider to be fair."

"Aim better! Stop trying to hit me and hit me!"

"You are not my problem. You are theirs. I plan to keep it that way. So neither begging nor pleading to me will not work."

Canon Character x OC/ Reader - Dialogue Prompts

"I am well enough to fight. I am well enough to move around do things myself. Do not coddle me as I were a child and I will not do the same to you."

"I was in exile, I did not abandon anybody, least of all my brother."

"I don't ask for your understanding, I don't ask for your trust either and quite frankly I do not want either one from you."

NSFW - Dialogue Prompts

[TBD]

Vikings Headcanons - Link

Food for the heart and soul - Halfdan the Black x Female Reader - Link

Tarnished and Unveiled Intentions - Bjorn Ironside x reader - Link

Life After Death - Bjorn Ironside x female reader - Link

[at1nys-blog]

Masterlist

【Ragnar Lothbrok】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Lagertha】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Björn Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Floki&Helga】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Athlestan】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Rollo】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Siggy】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Aslaugh】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Ubbe Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Hvitserk Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ My own Valkyrja

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ more to come

【Sigurd Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Ivar Ragnarsson】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Halfdan the black】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Harald Finehair】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Torvi】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Heahmund】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Gunnhild】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Kalf】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Kjetill Flatnose】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

【Yidu】

↳˳;; ❝ ᵕ̈೫˚∗ nothing yet

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

Crimson Flowers_Part 1

A.N:🕯️Happy Halloween!!! 👻I hope everyone has a safe and enjoyable one! 🎃

This is a Glorious Masquerade event with my TWST OC Mia!!

Twisted Wonderland Masterlist  

Can you excuse me and allow me a moment to fangirl over this event? I always loved Hunchback of Notre Dame, so this story was a real treat. The music is just… *chef’s kiss* 

At this point, I think I'm planning to get the Rollo card next year! I loved him from the moment I met him and wanted to know everything about the man.

I haven’t done a fake SSR card since the 1st Fairy Gala and now I have an TWST OC GM card!

Thank you to everyone that put in the hard work to make these templates and share them!! I for one, appreciate it!!

@thoselethalarts​ : Glorious Masquerade BG

@100night  : SR title card +  Groovied logo

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

Mia fought not to shiver as Rollo’s eyes landed on her and Grim. 

She felt his eyes assessed her, “So the rumors are true that you are the only female to attend Night Raven’s College all-male school. You are…apologies, your names?” 

Grim was quick to answer, “I’m Grim!! Future great mage!” 

Mia couldn’t figure out if she felt some type of way that, he knew everyone else, but not them. Did Crowley not think she and Grim were worthy of a footnote? 

But then again, it was Crowley. Who knows what went through that bird brain?

So she gave a polite smile, “My name is Mia Anderson. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Rollo gave a small nod, “I had heard you were unable to use magic. I did not expect you to bring a familiar along with you.” 

“Familiar?” Grim almost screeched, “Hold on! You’ve got it backwards here! She’s my hench-human!” 

Mia heaved a silent, long-suffering sigh. She kept quiet where ordinarily she might have quibbled with Grim, but she did not want to make a bad first impression. It seems Grim had no such qualms. 

Rollo didn’t seem to acknowledge Grim’s outburst, but instead added, “It must be stressful being the only female in addition to being surrounded by magic users. It must have caused you many problems. While you are in the City of Flowers, please take this time to rest.” 

Mia gave a small smile, “Thank you, sir.”

—

Mia never thought she’d feel thankful for Coach Vargas’s spartan training. At least she was faring a little better than Idia and Azul ie, she could hide it a little better. 

Ahhh, the golden bell was larger than life and truly breathtaking!! She had wandered away from Rollo’s speech to the others when Silver had popped his head back from the railing. She chose to stay far away from the edge, but upon seeing him do that gave her a heart attack. 

By the time she wandered over, she heard Sebek, “This is a joyous occasion!! Malleus-sama is the head of the Gargoyle Research Society, and as such these developments must be reported! If he sees these gargoyles, he’ll be pleased. Malleus-sama!! 

Idia shook his head, “The head he says? Pretty sure he’s the only member.” 

“Malleus-sama, look there! There is a gargoyle you so love, my liege! Please feel free to look as long as you like!” 

Malleus only frowned, making Sebek’s eyes widen, “My liege! Is there something wrong?” 

Mia spoke up with a grin, “Did it have a waterspout? Was it connected to something? You gotta find out these things before getting your liege’s spirit’s up like that! If it wasn’t, then it’s a grotesque, a mere decoration and not a gargoyle. Don’t you pay attention to anything your liege says?” 

Everyone was stunned to silence. Sebek noted that Malleus was practically glowing by this point. A huge grin broke out on Malleus’ face, as he laughed. 

Silver blinked. Did they get it wrong again? They could never remember the difference. 

Mia giggled, “I assume, I got it right?” 

“Yes, Child of Man!” Malleus beamed, “You are correct! Most splendid! Ha-ha!!” 

Sebek roused himself to cry, “Forgive me, my liege, it seems I have failed you!”

He snuck a glance towards Mia. He supposed later he would have to reward her for making Malleus-sama so happy like that. It’s been awhile since he has seen such a grin on his lord’s face. What would make a worthy award for the human? He would have to think on that as well as how to correct his own failing. He should study harder to remember the different in a grotesque and a gargoyle! He could not as his retainer be utterly lacking in the knowledge of his lord’s interests! 

“What the…? How the…? Why would you have such useless information in your head?” Idia sputtered. 

Azul pushed up his glasses, “It seems you forgot Idia. Malleus is no longer the only member of the Gargoyle Research Society. Mia has recently joined and seemed to take the lessons to heart.” 

Mia snorted, “I took notes.” 

Azul rolled his eyes, “Did it require it?” 

“I got it right, right? Leave me alone!” 

“Although, the fact that Malleus paid such attention to detail, now THAT part is relatable!!” Idia grinned. 

—

“Come along, hench-human!! Our crowd awaits!!” Grim crowed. 

“I know you are feeling yourself, but you have got to settle down!” Mia spoke as she plucked at the outfit she was wearing. 

“Hey ya’ll! How do I look? Look better on me than Mia, right?” Grim preened as they rejoined the group. 

Mia gave Grim a fond smile, “That being said, it does look perfect on you. Very suave! Befitting the future greatest mage to ever live!” 

Grim looked ready to burst at Mia’s words. Mia looked around the group to see them staring at her. She became self-conscious and dropped her gaze. “Wha?” 

“Beautiful!! Magnifque!” Rook bust out, breaking the silence, “You are as radiant as the night, with the purple and gold! Your beauty is shaming the day!” 

Mia almost choked herself on Rook’s words. She was used to his overdramatic tendencies, but they were rarely about her in such a manner.  

Jamil gave a small smile, “Dramatics aside, it’s rare to see you in a dress, Mia.”  

Epel looked up at Mia shyly, “You look right pretty, Mia.” 

“Oh, sorry….I just….” Deuce fumbled over his words as he looked a bit awestruck at you. 

Riddle gave a reassuring smile, “Yes, they are right. This is a rare treat.” 

“Your beauty does not hold a candle to Malleus-sama’s, but you look nice too!” Sebek smirked. 

Epel winkled his nose, “Isn’t the literally comparing apples and oranges?” 

“I apologize for Sebek’s crudeness!” Silver sighed, “You look lovely.” 

Ruggie grinned, “Indeed. What they said.” 

Mia was about ready to sink into the floor. It’s been awhile since she got these kinds of compliments. 

Grim laughed, “Ehh, she had to look gorgeous to stand next to me! Not as gorgeous as me, but still….” 

“Alright! Thank you everyone! I appreciate it!” She murmured as she couldn’t help but to lock her hands behind her back and sway back and forth. She still couldn’t bring herself to look at the boys yet. 

Thankfully, when Azul, Idia and Malleus rejoined the group, they had moved onto from her. Especially when Sebek began to lay heaps of praise onto Malleus whose poker face did not betray him. Mia’s eyes had widened as she glimpsed Malleus. This was the first time she had seen him dress up like this, and she was stunned into inaction. 

“See, this human knows the beauty of my lord!!” Sebek cried. 

Mia roused herself to realized, “this human” was referring to her. She snapped her head away, embarrassed to be caught gazing so openly.  Where was her head today? 

“Mia has the right reaction. No one wouldn’t be stunned into inaction upon gazing on Malleus-sama’s ethereal beauty! Mia, speak! How does our lord fare!” 

She muttered as she waved her hand, hoping it would past over. She was past tired of being put on the spot now, “N-Nice, very, very nice…” 

“Nice!? NICE!?! Just NICE!?” Sebek screeched, “Mia, comport yourself and give another look! Your reaction does not do justice your words!” 

Mia snapped then looking back at Sebek as she crossed her arms. She bared her teeth, “Shut up, Sebek! Learn to lower your voice, especially in someone else’s home. Besides what did you want me to say, ‘He looks like a walking dream’, I do have my pride you know!” 

There was a lull…

Ruggie laughed, “Shihihihi, but you just said it…” 

Sebek barked, pleased as all punch, “YES! YES!! That’s more like it!! Now your words bring justice to our lord’s ethereal beauty! Haha!!” 

This is the second time today that Mia has said the right things. Truly, he would have to consider carefully her award when this was over. 

Mia blinked at him a moment before she ran over her words. Then they watch, minus Sebek would was too busy being ecstatic at Mia’s words, in a rare show of fashion for her to fold into herself; she held her hands over her face and crab-walked behind the nearest student. Thankfully, it was Rook, who was tall enough to afford her a level of secrecy.  

Yep, she had officially lost her mind. The ground could just open up and swallow her any moment now. City of Flowers was named aptly. This could be her final resting place.  

“Thank you, Mia! I appreciate your sincere words! You, too, look very beautiful!” Malleus spoke with a small smile, “You must be in one of the photos with us! Lila would never forgive me if I did not present such documentation.” 

Rook could feel Mia further wilt behind him and laughed, “You should not be ashamed, Mia! If that is the way you felt, to lie would be a disgrace to your pure feelings.” 

“I will end…all of you.” She hissed. 

Jamil only sighed, “Don’t involve me in your foolishness.” 

Rollo murmured under his breath, “And foolishness it is.” 

However, he had been observing quietly this lone female student. This was the first time, he had witnessed the comradery she had with the others. She had been quiet for the most part, but it was clear that she wasn’t an outlier of a student that he assumed a female among all males would be. 

Most interesting….

Part 2

[mrscakeishere]

Polycakes (aka @polychromicron-persei-8) and I are still in the Christmas spirit (it's not Twelfth Night yet!), so we have a Christmas fic for you and everyone @goodomensafterdark to enjoy.

A Not So Secret Santa is a humorous and fluffy tale of Crowley surprising Aziraphale with a gift... and a secret (Rated Teen, 4,477 words). Excerpt below.

A Not So Secret Santa

‘Twas the night before Christmas—well, technically it was 4am Christmas morning. But time is a social construct so, as far as Aziraphale was concerned, it wasn’t yet Christmas morning and wouldn’t be until the sun rose on the horizon, which no one in London could see anyway because of all the fog (not to mention the buildings).

But where were we… ‘twas the night before Christmas and in Aziraphale’s home, the angel was silent, reading a tome. Well, in truth, he was wondering if they’d have a white Christmas this year, suspecting they would not, then pondering if he should do something about it.1

When down in his shop he heard such a clatter, he sprung up to go see what in Heaven’s name was the matter. He also shut his compendium of Christmas poems and no longer felt the need to make any of his thoughts rhyme.2

Aziraphale rushed downstairs to seek out the origin of the rhyming ruckus, only to find Crowley lurking around the Christmas tree. This was a rather unusual move for Crowley as usually he lurked himself to the sofa, or the chair or, more often, to Aziraphale’s wine collection.

Continue reading at https://archiveofourown.org/works/52676419

[the-weirdos-mind]

Too blunt Emma. Too blunt 😂

[thewackyrandomwriter]

go and check this write out! :D

The Girl With Fire In Her Veins

Here is little sneak peak of a story I’m working on. I’ve had it stuck in my head for like a year or so and I’m finally putting it out there. 

Summery: Rowena MacLeod’s life came crashing down around her when she was 17. For eight years, she is forced to fight her way through the Saxon’s challenges until the Vikings show up. 

I was 17 when my family and I were traveling across the country of England with just our packs and caravan. My mother, Ada, and father, Fergus, had decided to travel after my brother, Callan, was born and we did. We traveled from our home in Scotland and over into Norway and Denmark, making our way into Germany and into Frankia before eventually getting to southern England.

Eventually we were going to be making our way back into Scotland but at the time we didn’t know that Scots was in a feud with England. By the time we reached Northumbria, we had barely been bothered since we usually kept off the main roads. I was the only one that could speak Saxon along with our home language of Gaelic, with Norse, French and German.

When we reached Northumbria when I was 17, our family had expanded with mother giving birth to another boy, Kian, and then a girl, Mollie. Father could speak basic English and some words in Norse. Callan could speak French while my younger siblings were still developing with Gaelic.  

After about a week of traveling, we were confronted by a group of King Aella’s soldiers. They were questioning my father on why were on the King’s land. That we were unwelcomed. We had no clue that England was in a feud with Scots (Gaelic speakers) at this point in time. My father didn’t understand and wanted me to translate but the soldiers were getting aggressive and would not let me speak.  

It happened so quick.

The soldier ran my father through with his sword.  

I was stunned and almost couldn’t move as I watched my father fall the ground.  

The sound of my mother and siblings screaming snapped me out of my thoughts. Clenching my jaw, I rushed forward towards the men that were reaching for my mother and siblings. I went for the smallest man, taking his wrist that was reaching for his sword and twisting it while my free hand simultaneously reached for his sword to pull it from his sheath. I twisted myself under his arm to put him an uncomfortable situation to put the sword through his armpit.  

Two of the soldiers that had stood next to him had frozen in shock at the fact that I had downed one of the soldiers. I took the opportunity to slice at the one on the right, twisting as I swung. Blood poured from his neck and splattered onto my neck, face and chest.  

My mother took the distraction and ushered my siblings into the caravan and then stood behind it.  

I quickly turned to the other soldier, standing sideways as I bent back as he tried to stab me. I quickly swung the sword into the opening he gave me as he stumbled. I cut his side and then when he fell to his knees, I positioned myself behind him to grip his chin and taking the sword to his neck and slicing it.  

I locked eyes with the man that killed my father as I glared at the twinkle that gleamed in his eye.  Two more of the soldiers rushed forward and they stupidly both swung at my head, making me duck down and I lunged forward to slice both tendons at the back of the knees.  

One of them dropped one of their swords and I quickly picked it up. Twirling the swords in my hands so that I was holding them backwards I thrust the swords back, stabbing the soldiers in their necks.  

Pulling them out, I kept my breathing even, but I could feel the blood in my veins on fire as my energy kept up with my movements. I twirled the swords in my hands so that they were facing the right direction. I kept my eyes on the other soldiers in front of me. There were about eight more and I knew that the gods were not in my favor today, but I was not dying without a fight.  

The biggest soldier along with two more came forward and the big one swung hard.  

I jumped to the side to avoid the hit and then parried the soldier to his left.  

Eventually, I was grappled by the big one and his arms were wrapped around my arms and waist, crushing me and making me drop the swords.  

I was cursing him in Gaelic and English as I thrashed around in his hold before Mother’s yell caused my head to snap over.  

The leader had grabbed mother’s hair and had forced her to her knees and then put a dagger at her throat.  

Mother locked eyes with me. Both of us had tears trailing down our cheeks before her resolve hardened and she gritted her teeth.  

“Fear cuts deeper than swords.” She spoke to me in Gaelic. A saying we learned in Germany.  

Clenching her jaw, she closed her eyes just before the man sliced her throat.  

She gargled as he threw her to the ground while locking eyes with me.  

The sounds of my siblings’ sobs along with any other sounds slowly disappeared from my senses as the only thing I felt was anger and devastation at this man killing both of my parents.  

My face scrunched up in pain and anguish before I screamed loud and then leaned forward as much as I could before knocking my head back into the head of the man holding me, I could hear a crunch of his nose breaking and he let me go as he reached up to his broken nose.

Diving for the sword at the ground, I was barely able to grab it before a boot covered the metal of the sword.  

Quickly looking up, the lead man looked down at me before he punched me in the face. Falling back, I was disoriented, and the taste of copper filled my mouth. Looking up, my eyes focused while blinking very slowly at the silhouette of the leader standing over me.  

I felt him grab at my tunic and him pulling me to sit up before he punched me again… Knocking me unconscious.  

[rolloollor]

There was a bit of a delay in the art, but the third chapter now has a beautiful picture of nyota Malleus and Rollo!! Haixin did a stellar job, as always~ The poses and expressions are absolutely gorgeous!

I wanted to be sure people here saw it, so here it is!

In case you missed the fic itself, here's the summary:

Each year, the students at Noble Bell College put on a play based on the Righteous Judge's life. The role of the Dancer is an important one and, traditionally, must be played by a student transformed into a woman. With no one willing to play the Dancer, the obligation rests at Rollo's feet.