#halfdan the black imagines

[woahhhgwendolyn]

Being Halfdan's Woman Would Include...

-Being Halfdan's woman would be pretty easy overall because he would make sure to take care of you in any way that you need.

-He would also make sure that some of his brothers' men are watching over you when you are not with hum because he does not want anything to happen to you when he is away from you.

-He always makes sure that you are safe no matter the situation. He just loves you too much for you to be able to get hurt because he wasn't protecting.

-He is also making sure that you are healthy. He will often bring you an extra fur cape when it is cold just to make sure that you do not get sick.

-Him wanting to please you in every way he possibly can. No matter if it is sexual or not. He wants to make sure that you are happy with him.

-He can like never keep his eyes off of you. Like ever. He just finds you so irresistible.

-Him loving to spend time with you at any time of day and just talk to you and get to know you better.

-He will often tell his brother or the other men he is talking to about how beautiful you are.

-Him loving to fuck you however you want it. He also likes to surprise you a lot when it comes to fucking.

-He loves to cuddle you when you two are in bed. He can never get his hands off of you. He loves the feel of your skin on his hands and how you get shy when he touches you in certain areas.

[axelsagewrites]

Hello. I was wondering if you can write something for Halfdan from the show Vikings? I’ll be happy with some fluff. I don’t have anything specific in mind but just a sweet Halfdan would be a nice read ♥️Thank you in advance ♥️

Halfdan*Favourite Days

Pairing: Halfdan x wife!reader

Word count: 610

Warnings: none

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Halfdan was a warrior, a Viking, someone who you should fear and run from when he approaches you. however, you just smile as the Viking saunters over to where you are sat against a great oak. “My love,” you great, offering your hand out to him, pulling him to sit next to you.

You placed the flower crown you had began to make down beside you. your hand moved to rest on his head while you placed a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you beautiful,” he murmured, moving his head to rest on top of yours.

Yes, the big, powerful, brutal Viking was merely just a puppy dog when it came to you. “How have you been?” you asked to which he just grunted making you laugh.

“I do not wish to ruin your good mood with idiotic men and their talks,”

“Okay sweetie,” you laughed, “Come here,” you instructed, moving him to lay with his head on your lap. He did not fight you, instead he allowed himself to relax into your soft thighs as your hand raked through his hair.

“What have you done today?” he asked.

“Well let’s see,” you said, leaning back against the tree as you absentmindedly scratched his scalp making him groan softly, “I helped my sister with her goats this morning and she gave me some Skyr for our supper which was nice. Then I went to the market. I got some better soaps to try wash the blood from your tunic,”

“I don’t know why you try. I always dirty them,”

“I don’t know why you try to tell me not to,” you countered, “I always get my way,”

“That you do my love,” he mumbled, half considering if he should just fall asleep right here, “What else?”

“I tended a few small errands, finished sewing part of my dress, and sharpened your axe,”

“You’re too good to me,”

“I know,” you said making him smile, “Then I came out here to relax and made this,” you said, picking up the flower crown.

He rolled onto his back, squinting at the sun as he took the flowers from your hand, “Its beautiful,” he smiled, resting it on his head making you laugh, “How do I look?”

“As pretty as a flower,” you grinned, leaning down to kiss him.

You enjoyed the moment, pulling back to looking into his eyes with a soft smile. It was perfect. That was till a loud wolf whistle rang out followed by Harald’s echoing laugh, “I’ll kill him,” Halfdan growled as he sat up, the flowers falling to the ground.

“I thought you were a man! Not a baby!” His brother called from several feet away.

You put your hand on his chest to stop him chasing his brother, “Bugger off Harald!” you shouted back, “At least he has a wife,” you teased, smirking when you saw the smile fall from his face, “Don’t be a baby Harald!” you called as he began to walk away.

“You’re lucky I like you sister!” he called back, turning away as he stalked off to presumably sulk.

You looked back to your husband with a grin, “Now where were we?”

He paused as he pretended to contemplate it, “Right,” he said, his hands grabbing your waist suddenly and flipping you onto your back making you laugh, “here,” he grinned as his lips went down to pepper your face in soft kisses.

“Stop!” you laughed as his hands moved to tickle your sides, “You’re killing me!”

“Don’t be a baby,” he teased, copying your earlier taunts as he leaned down to capture your lips again. Days like this were his favourite.

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[disasterofastory]

A new adventure (Halfdan x Reader)

A new adventure modern!Halfdan x Reader Warnings: none

Summary: You spend the nigth with your ex-husband.

The house is quiet and calm as you reach the bottom of the stairs. Your baby's screams still echo in your head. You are not even sure if he is crying again or if you just imagine things by now. Your head throbs with the pain you tried to keep at bay the whole night while you keep telling yourself that your son is alright and you don't have to go back to check on him.

He is asleep. He is fine.

One step creaks under your weight. It's loud and sharp. A heavy, tired sigh leaves your lips. Turning your head to the side, you listen.

It's okay, you think, relieved. Your baby boy is still asleep. It's fine.

"I will fix it tomorrow." Halfdan's smooth voice breaks the silence, drawing your attention to the couch where he sits, leaning on his knees with his elbows. The worried, stressful frown is still deep between his brows. "Thank you," you nod. "A drink?" "Do you have a beer?" "I have wine. Two bottles," you reply from the kitchen, holding the door of the fridge as your gaze falls on the bottles with the familiar logos. "I will take it," he sighs. "I thought so."

The lights coming from the kitchen cover the living room in a soft, orange hue. Your muscles melt against the couch as you sit down and hold up one of the bottles to the man next to you. "No glass?" He smirks, accepting your offer, though. "It's a glass-free household," you joke between two sips. The taste of the wine spreads over your tongue, and you have to close your eyes for long seconds to enjoy this momentary peace. "I'm sorry," Halfdan says after a while, making you jump when he grabs your legs to put them over his lap. His long fingers start to massage your sore muscles. His touch is warm and familiar. It's like a reflex that didn't die out of you even after one year. His every movement lights a fire in your lower belly. You almost laugh at it. "It's fine," you tell him. "Were you on a date?" He asks. "Yeah," you grunt. "To be honest, I should be grateful." "Why?" "It was horrible." He laughs. The man can't help but feel some satisfaction at your words. "Our baby knows when he has to get sick to save his mama." "He sure does," you hum, holding the bottle to your lips. "But I'm really sorry, you know? I should know what to do when my son is sick." Reaching out to squeeze his arm, you smile at your ex-husband comfortingly. You can see how devastated he is because of tonight, even though you know he did everything he could. "It's fine, Halfdan," you tell him. "Sometimes sick little boys need their mamas. You did everything well. Don't punish yourself because of nothing."

Not long after your boy's first birthday, you and Halfdan decided to end your marriages after months of struggling. It was quick and peaceful. Both of you wanted only the best for your child, and this kept your relationship away from useless battles and fights.

And here you are, after a year of your divorce, sitting with your ex-husband while your boy sleeps in his room. And you don't remember the last time you felt so content and calm, even though you are tired and still worried about your son's health.

"And what about your date?" He asks, turning his head to look at you. His fingers still work their magic on your muscles. "Do I know him?" "No," you reply. "I don't think so. I met him online." "First date?" "And the last." "So horrible?" You shrug. If you want to be fair, there was nothing wrong with the guy. He was nice, polite, and funny. "Boring." He hums. "Can I tell you something?" "I see the wine is starting to work," he smirks. He sees it in your eyes and the slight curve of your lips. You looked familiar when he first met you and asked you out on a date after two minutes of introducing himself. You giggled and said yes. "Everyone seems boring compared to you," you confess. "I have no idea how to enjoy a story if you are not the one who is telling it." Halfdan shooke up your whole world. He forced you to leave your comfort zone and live a little. He inspired you to start your own business, and even after all those years, he is still your biggest supporter.

Halfdan's chest stretches with a new wave of satisfaction when he hears your words. He remembers your first date. If he wants to be honest, he fucked it up. He talked and talked about his upcoming travel overseas. He was so excited. And you, instead of being annoyed with him or thinking him rude, listened and asked, and before he knew it, he was even more excited to come home to you. "We were good together, huh?" He asks but doesn't want your answer. He knows you were good together. Two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly... At least for a while. "Where did it go wrong?" "It was me," you reply immediately. Halfdan wants to argue, but you don't let him. "After our son was born I... I forgot how to be... me, you know? I became a mother and didn't know how to be anything else." You thought about it a lot, especially after your relationship got better and better after your breakup. He squeezes your leg and drinks from his bottle. "I should have reminded you." "Everybody should have reminded me," you grunt with the thorn still in you. Of course, you can't blame the others. Reminding you of yourself was not their job, but everyone made it so easy to forget that you are still Y/N, a woman, a wife, and not just a mother. "I'm sorry," he says anyway. "I didn't know it was so hard for you." "It wasn't," you reply. "I mean... I didn't notice until we broke up."

Halfdan opens his mouth to say something, then decides against it. He can't do that, can he? Would it be too risky? Would he cross a line? Did those things ever stop him? "Let me take you out on a date." The wine burns your throat as you cough. A small drop of red liquid runs down your jaw until you soak it with the sleeve of your shirt. "What?" You croak out. "Do you love me?" He asks. Halfdan is not the type who beats around the bush. "I still do. I still love you, and you know our son is my whole world. You two are my whole world." "Why do you think it would work now?" You ask him uncertainly, even though you can't help but smile at his words. "Because we know what went wrong the first time," Halfdan replies. He is so sure of himself. "I wouldn't let you forget who you are besides being a mother, Y/N. What more? We could go and travel somewhere. Our son could stay with Harald, he is old enough, and Harald will spoil him. Maybe we could go somewhere new? Or I could book the place where we were on our honeymoon?" Your laugh shuts him up. Your eyes shine with tears. "And here you are, already planning for a new adventure." "Please tell me you will come with me."

He holds up his hand for you to take it, and when you do, he kisses the back of your hand.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Their Reaction To A Revealing Costume

Ragnar: If the situation arose, he would be happy to see his partner enjoying the Halloween festivities and expressing yourself freely in whatever way made you happy. You both would certainly discuss the specific details of the costume beforehand to ensure that it is appropriate for the occasion and for you as a couple, but ultimately the choice would rest with you. He believes in trust and communication in relationships, so long as you both had an open dialogue about it, he would be fine with whatever you chose to wear.

Athelstan: He would be concerned if his partner wanted to dress in a revealing Halloween costume. It is not a traditional thing for him or his beliefs and he would not be comfortable with you making yourself vulnerable to the eyes of strangers.

Floki: He felt excited to see you express yourself in a costume that shows off your body. He is proud of you and your beauty, and he likes that you chose to share your looks with others. He is not worried about other people looking at you and wanting you, because he knows you are his and you love him. That is all that matters to him.

Lagertha: She would be delighted to see her partner flaunting your beauty on such a special occasion. However, she also wouldn't be comfortable with you wearing a costume that exposed too much, as she believes in respect and loyalty in a relationship, and revealing clothing can often be worn for attention-seeking purposes, which is not acceptable in a committed union.

Aslaug: She would react with a cold and detached attitude if her partner decided to wear a revealing Halloween costume. She would have no problem with you embracing your own body and sexuality, but she is against dressing in a way that deliberately attracts attention from others. She believes in honesty and loyalty in a relationship, and her partner openly displaying your body for others to admire would be disrespectful and inappropriate.

Bjorn: The gods have given unto him many gifts, as a mighty warrior, as a king, and as a husband, but none so glorious as a pair of loving eyes to look upon your form. You may dress yourself as you please, so long as you are loyal and true, to the gods and to him. To prevent you from wearing what you wish, would be to deny you the pleasure you bring all men in their sight of you - the gods themselves included.

Ubbe: If his partner decides to dress in a revealing Halloween costume, it is ultimately up to you. However, it would be understandable if he were to feel a bit uncertain or uncomfortable about the situation. It is important to communicate openly and honestly with each other in relationships, so it would be best to have a conversation with you and express your feelings in a respectful manner.

Hvitserk: It is your body and your choice. You can wear whatever you want to wear as long as you are respectful to him and your family. However, if you decide to wear something that he finds to be inappropriate or he feels is disrespectful, then he will voice his opinion and will have a discussion on how to proceed.

Sigurd: If you were to wear a revealing Halloween costume, he would likely be taken aback by your boldness. He might feel a mix of excitement, surprise, and even a little bit of jealousy at the attention you may receive. Ultimately, he would try to be supportive and appreciate that you are expressing yourself in your own way. He might offer to accompany you or take pictures for you so you can preserve the memories of this special night.

Ivar: He would be angry with his partner if you wore such a revealing costume for Halloween. He would express that your body is for his eyes only and you belong to him and no one else. After a short argument, however, he would realize you were only dressed this way for fun and he would force himself to calm down and enjoy the night with you.

Halfdan: He finds it to be a dishonor to himself when his partner wears a revealing Halloween costume that shows off any part of your body for other men to admire. As the protector and head of the household, it is his duty to keep you modest and ensure that you don't bring shame to your name. But he would later think you look fantastic, that men may be staring and drooling over you, but your his and your going home with him.

Harald: If you chose to wear a revealing Halloween costume, well then I must say that he would be somewhat upset. Of course, this is a free country, so he cannot forbid you to do anything, but he can most definitely ask why you chose that particularly eye-popping outfit. However, I suppose that if you were truly determined to wear that revealing costume, he would just have to shrug and accept it, but he will most definitely be keeping a very close eye on you during Halloween.

[author-morgan]

Title: Riverside Rating: M Pairing: Harald Finehair x fem!Reader (and Halfdan the Black) Summary: Harald Finehair may be a fool, but at least he has his brother, and at least he has you. ❤️plot bunny that's been collecting dust for two years by @mrsragnarlodbrok ❤️

down by the river by the boats, where everybody goes to be alone

“YOUR BROTHER IS a fool,” you remark, watching Harald Finehair slip away with the princess who once promised to be his queen—the woman whose husband had only just been murdered in the early hours of the morn. Halfdan the Black watches his brother too, lips twitching as he lifts his cup of ale, taking a short quaff of the weak brew. He’ll be glad to leave England—an army of this size meant dwindling supplies, game, and ever-weakening ale and mead.

He picks off another hunk of meat from a roast pheasant. “Is that meant to be news?” Halfdan asks in turn, smiling as he flicks his stringy blond hair aside and out of his eyes—his dark gaze flitting back to you. Harald’s always been a fool when it comes to women and love, and Halfdan doubts time and age will ever change that.

“Halfdan,” you chide. Harald is a fool—a fool for thinking Ellisif would wait for him, a fool for killing Vik so crassly in the heart of the camp. You both know he is, but watching Princess Ellisif slip away with her husband’s killer makes you uneasy. Grief and the thought of vengeance would not have left her mind yet. And such things can drive people to act in unpredictable ways. “You don’t think it’s odd she wishes to seek a private audience with him only a few hours after he killed her husband?”

Halfdan raises his brow—the blue-black ink of the tattoo on his temple and forehead twitches and wrinkles. At the moment, he’s more content with filling his belly and entertaining your company than fretting over his brother, yet you won’t let the subject rest so easily, and deep down, Halfdan knows you are right, as is the feeling of dread in his liver. “Had it been me, the thought of retribution would not yet be gone, nor the fog of dolor.”

You make a convincing case, and with a sighing frown, Halfdan pushes away from the table and you, heading toward Harald’s tent—hand resting on the hilt of his sword, knowing already he will have to serve as his brother’s protector once more. A moment later, Halfdan emerges from his brother’s pavilion. The sword in his hand is coated with blood, bright and red. And it would seem, after all, he knew women far better than his brother—or at least how to listen to you. 

He frees a cloth from his belt and slides it down the blade, cleaning it with a single long swipe as he looks at you, watching and waiting. Halfdan doesn’t have to say anything as he approaches for you to know, but regardless, your lips quirk upward. “Told you,” you declare, and he makes a low sound of agreement from the back of his throat, taking the cup of ale you offer. You knew Ellisif would not have so easily nor quickly forgiven Harald for his transgression, especially after not upholding her promise to wait for marriage. 

Harald’s curses and fit of rage ring out in the brisk air. You know there’s little that can soothe his heart and pride, but if anyone in the Ragnarsson encampment can make an earnest attempt, it is you—Halfdan knows this too. “I’ll see to him,” you breathe, taking one last drink of ale. Halfdan grips your arm before you can go to his brother and leans close, offering a soft, quick kiss over too soon.

THE RIVER FLOWS slowly, given its breadth near the encampment of the Sons of Ragnar—a hundred longships are pushed up against the banks and moored in the water. Together, you and Harald walk along the water’s edge, heading north, where fewer ships and wandering eyes and ears are. The blood on his hands and chest is nigh dry, and it makes his red woolen tunic stick to him and stiffens his silver-tinged beard.

Harald Finehair looks at you but cannot dispel what you must think of him, of these circumstances—your expression is only a cool mix of solicitude and what he thinks is annoyance. Yet again, he finds himself failing to understand the mind and heart of a woman—one he has known since childhood, no less. “My brother is lucky,” Harald admits, feeling a spike of jealousy stab at him as he thinks about you and Halfdan, “to have only ever loved you.” But had he ever truly loved Ellisif beyond his desire for her beauty? Even he is not sure of the answer.

You stop near the prowl of one of Jarl Olavsson’s ships—his shields and sails marked by white and dark green—and stare at Harald, aghast and confused by his insinuation. “Do I no longer have your love?” You ask, reaching for him and the leather ties at the neck of his tunic.

“I had thought–” his voice trails off as he looks at the flock of blackbirds flying overhead, unsure if it is a sign from the gods or just an ill omen. He lets you draw him nearer, but it’s only when the flat of your hand connects with his bloody cheek that his gaze and attention return to you—his stormy blue eyes filled with bewilderment and indignation. He stares at you, nostrils flared. 

“No, Harald!” You’ve finally grown exasperated by his foolishness—you could tolerate his laments about love and marriage, but to nigh let himself be killed by a recreant woman under such circumstances? “You didn’t think!” You tell him, and Harald steps back, hands curling to fists at his sides. He needs to hear this, though, if not from his brother, then from you. “And if you did, it was with the wrong head.” The same head all men think with first when it comes to women.

“You speak to a king,” he reminds you, puffing out his chest—a weak reply, and you both know it.

You shake your head and reach for him, hands settling on either side of his blood-spattered face—thumbs following the blue-black scrollwork of the tattoos on his cheeks. “And I am also speaking to one of my oldest friends,” you remind him. King or no, Harald and his brother are among your oldest and dearest friends—they could be little more than farmers or simple whalers, and you would think no less of them nor love them less. There’s a shift in Harald’s expression then, as though he realizes the error of his ways in disregarding your and Halfdan’s counsel, and hubris fades to humility. “One whom I care for and love very much.” Love, the word catches him off-guard. Then an ephemeral smile returns to grace your lips. “Even if he is pigheaded at times.”

He forces down the growing knot in his throat. “My brother–” Harald starts, but you press your fingertips to his weathered lips, shushing him and chasing away any apprehension or fear of driving a rift between the three of you with what comes next. “Halfdan knows,” you tell Harald with airy unconcern—fingers slipping down to comb through his silver-tinged wiry beard. Your trysts had never been clandestine, even before whatever this unspoken thing with his brother began before the first raid on Paris. “He’s very astute,” you remark, the corner of your lips quirking upward again. “You could stand to learn a thing to two.”

He huffs, then goes to the river, shrugging off his tunic, and kneels at the water’s edge, splashing the cold water on his face and chest���scrubbing the drying blood of the woman he once intended to marry. He stares at his reflection, shoulders falling forward, accepting his ill-fated pursuit of marriage and defeat, alas. “I’ve been a fool,” he grumbles. You crouch next to him, dipping your hand in the river to help wash the blood from his shoulders and the back of his neck, humming your agreement—gladdened to know it is no longer a whispered secret between you and Halfdan. “You’re not supposed to agree with me,” he admonishes, mirth slipping back into his tone.

There’s a scar on his shoulder, and without thought, you lean toward him, placing the gentlest and quickest of kisses on the raised patch of silvery skin. You can recall how he and Halfdan have gotten most of their scars, but the history of this small mark evades you right now. When you meet his eyes, you see him staring at you with a look of raw hunger and desperation you’re entirely unprepared for, and it sends a wave of heat washing over you. But he’s so gentle when he handles you—even in all his lingering anger and hurt.

He holds your chin until his thumb swipes across your flushed cheek—always touching you like you’re some fragile, precious thing and not a shieldmaiden—and then his lips part, and he exhales a shaky breath, waiting for your permission, spoken or otherwise. You give it with a breathy sigh of his name. Harald. His warm breath hits your cheek, followed by the faint tickle of his scraggly beard at your jaw before his lips are fully on yours. “Let me have you.” His plea is soft against your mouth—and you cannot deny him.  

Skirts rucked up around your waist, Harald grips your hips, drawing you closer to him until his wool and linen-clad thigh presses between yours. His touch is fervent—hot palms, calloused from years of battle, scrape over the bare skin they touch. His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip before kissing you—languid and soft. Your hands grasp at his back to pull his chest to your own. And then he fumbles to loosen his belt, but you knock away his hands, and Harald curses and groans when your hand slides into his undone britches, fingers wrapping around his half-hard cock—stroking him.

Your stomach flutters as his fingers caress you briefly, fleetingly—but gone far too soon. Your hips move towards his touch, but now is not the time for drawn-out caresses and teasing. In truth, he's not focused on your pleasure but more on his desire.

Harald pushes forward, rocking his hips slowly until his cock is fully sheathed inside the warmth of your cunt, and his hips meet yours. You gasp, somewhere between a whine and moan, head tipping back, and Harald takes the chance to press his lips to the base of your neck. He’s gentle as he trails a hand down your side and holds your waist—he and Halfdan have always been two sides of the same coin as lovers.

You lay back—letting him do as he pleases. He needs this moment, this release, far more than you do. His thrusts start slow, lazy almost, as though you’ve all the time in the world—like you’re back in Tamdrup on a spring night in a patch of wildflowers or bale of loose straw in a stable, not lying on a muddy English riverbank on the verge of another battle—not knowing if tomorrow will be the day Valhalla beckons you home.

He looks down at you—splayed beneath him and his gut twists with a sickening realization. I’ve been a fool, Harald thinks again, cradling your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb pressed against your parted lips, chasing a woman who could never love me. But you. It did not matter what misfortunes or victories the gods bestowed upon him. You were always there—never faltering from your place at his and Halfdan’s side. He’s only ashamed not to have realized or acted sooner.

Your legs spread wider to welcome him, squeezing at his shoulders to urge him to move faster. Every push and pull of his hips brings him deeper inside you. Harald pants at your ear, his breathing ragged and strained as his pace falters—thrusts growing quicker and rougher as he seeks release. Beneath your palms, the muscles in his back ripple, contracting with each thrust. His lips find yours again, and you pull him down closer until his bare chest presses against the rumpled wool of your dress bodice—nails scraping across his shoulders and the patchwork of tattoos on his shoulder blades.

The look in Harald’s eyes is nigh unsettling—a mix of emotion you do not wish to think about in this moment of lust and carnality—and you squeeze at his biceps, urging him to move faster, and when his trance breaks, he obliges. He breathes hushed praises against your neck and strokes a thumb over the racing pulse in your neck as he rolls his hips up into yours—strokes long and deep. 

You whine and squirm for him, grinding your hips into his. The next time he moves, his cock strikes the place inside you that makes you cry out without thinking, and your toes start to curl—he does it again and again, thrice over. “Harald.” He works himself deeper still, pelvis rubbing against your clit, and he doesn’t miss the shiver that goes through you or the way your muscles tense—cunt squeezing his cock tighter. His breathy, open-mouth kisses grow sloven as you fumble to keep in rhythm, your movements slack—distracted by the fog of ecstasy in your head.

Breath hot against your lips, his eyes drift shut in unison with yours. Behind closed eyes, all that triumphs is the feel of your bodies sinking into each other. He will not last much longer. Harald barely manages a coherent rasp of your name, teeth gnashing, when his entire body shivers and he stills deep, deep inside, cock twitching. 

His livid eyes are dark, like a stormy sea when they open once more, and there’s a crease between his brows that you have a yearning impulse to kiss away—and so you do, and in the wake of your lips, you smooth your fingertips over his brow. “I do love you, Harald,” you tell him—a breathless whisper—and suddenly, the knot in his throat and the offbeat feeling in his heart is back. “Just as I love Halfdan.”

He says nothing, only rests his forehead against your shoulder and shivers when your hand runs along his back, finding his dark braid to run your fingers along. But there’s a new dampness on your flesh—tears for love lost and love found.

HIS TEMPER IS quelled upon returning to the encampment, even if his heart has yet to mend. Halfdan rises from his spot at one of the fires, leaving the waning conversation with Björn Ironside when he sees you and his brother approach. The whispers around the camp of what happened between Harald, Vik, and Ellisif have already faded with new discussions of the army’s next move in Mercia—steadily creeping closer to Wessex and retribution upon King Ecbert for his part in Ragnar’s death. Harald swallows his pride and glimpses you before turning his attention to Halfdan. “Thank you, brother,” he says. “Yet again, I owe you my life.”

“I’ll always watch your back,” Halfdan replies, pressing a cup of ale into Harald’s hand before clasping his shoulder—then his gaze flits to you, and he smiles, a glimmer shining in his dark eyes. “But next time we tell you to kill someone, you should listen, yeah?” Harald shakes his head, looking down into the cup of ale with a dry laugh. You both told him to rid himself of Ellisif before setting sail to England. He should have listened then—knows he was a fool not to have. But once more, it is the three of you, and maybe that is how the gods always intended it to be.

[Harald & Halfdan taglist: @ahotmesswithprivilege / @alicedopey / @certifiedlittleshit / @charming-merlin / @elluvians / @erzsebetrosztoczy / @gearhead66 / @gossamarnie / @hc-geralt-23 / @kaexiao / @midnightmuze / @moonlightsspirit / @n0sferatus / @naaladareia / @queenfinehair / @queenyalo / @savagemickey03 / @xinyourdreamsx / @yalos-writing ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Vikings taglist, or any other taglist, just let me know with this Google Form!

[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

[vikingschristiansff]

Chapter Thirteen

 Since the weddings Hvitserk had become determined to find out why Elsie was so angry with him. She no longer cuddled with him, instead keeping her body as close to the edge of the bed as possible. She ignored him throughout the day, and would pretend to already be asleep when he came home. After days of this Hvitserk had enough. Fairly drunk, he stumbled into their home where again, Elsie was pretending she was asleep. Hvitserk angrily tossed the furs off of her, turned her over so that she was laying on her back and crawled on top of her. He hovered menacingly over her.

“What do you want?” Elsie snarled through clenched teeth. 

“Why are you behaving like a child?” Elsie almost gagged from the stench of alcohol on his breath as he spoke. “We were happily married a few days ago, now you despise me. What happened?”

Elsie gave him a look of disgust, refusing to answer his question. “TELL ME,” he scream.

“I saw you with the slave. The blonde one. I am not stupid, as I said before my affection for you  was a momentary lapse in judgement. This isn’t a marriage, it a business arrangement. And I think, from now on, we should keep it as such.”

Hvitserk's demeanor softened, and he rolled off of his wife so he was now sitting beside her. “I didn’t know that would hurt you, and I will never do it again. Not with Margarethe, not with anyone.”

“No need. I don’t care what you do. I’m not hurt, I’m not angry. I know what men do, Scottish men have mistresses all the time. It’s just… my father didn’t and growing up I was promised a marriage like my parents. I forgot that promise was broken when my father made his deal with Bjorn.” With that, she tucked herself back under the furs and turned her back to her husband to go to sleep. Hvitserk, however, didn’t get much sleep that night. 

* * * *

Olivia sat upon a boulder, drawing a landscape of Kattegat. However, her peacefulness was soon interrupted. 

“Hello Princess Olivia,” Cella said. Olivia remembered her, she was the thrall that dressed her for the Viking wedding. 

“Hello Cella. Can I help you?”

“Prince Sigurd has ordered me to accompany you throughout the days. He said you were lonely and having a hard time adjusting to life here.” 

Olivia just smiled and nodded. She knew what Sigurd was doing, having Cella with her all day everyday would deter her from having a friendship with Harald. She felt the anger boil within her but she kept a calm demeanor, not wanting to take her emotions out on someone as sweet as Cella. 

Olivia waited up for Sigurd to come home that night. 

“Why are you still awake?” He asked when got into their bed. 

“Is having a thrall become my shadow really necessary?”

“You’re the one who wants someone to talk to,” he smirked. 

“I don’t understand you!” Olivia stood from the bed and began to shout. “You don’t want me and yet you won’t allow me to even speak to another man!”

Sigurd stood up as well. “I don’t need you being seen constantly with King Harald! Embarrassing me! Making a fool out of me!”

“You make a fool out of me everyday! You are always with Margarethe!” She spill out the thralls name with vitriol. “If you hate me so much, why don’t spend your nights with her as well!” 

“I will!” Sigurd grabbed his clothes and stormed out of their house, slamming the door behind him.

* * * *

Per request from Ivar, Aslaug and Bridget began to spend time together. Aslaug hated Bridget, and Bridget hated her back. Aslaug insisted Bridget was a bad wife and was not keeping Ivar happy. And of course, it was Bridget’s fault that she was not with child. 

Bridget had to bite her tongue form tell her mother-in-law that Ivar lacked the skill to make a baby and it was most certainly not her fault. They hadn’t tried again since the wedding night, Ivar was too scared of being embarrassed again. Instead each night he had his wife hold him tightly like she did that night. He found calmness and comfort in her arms, though she could not say the same. 

* * * * * 

Lagertha decided it was important to teach Leith sword fighting. It was not going well, but they were both enjoying their time together. 

Once again Lagertha knocked the sword out of Leith’s hand. “You are excellent with the shield, but you lack strength.” She grabbed Leith’s thin arm, that was sore beyond belief, and let it flop back to her side, making both of the women laugh. Ending their lesson, they took a seat to catch their breathes.

“How is your marriage going, Bjorn is a lot like his father in some ways, so I’m sure it is not easy?” 

Leith thought for a moment. “I think, for an arranged marriage, it is going well.” 

“But?” Lagertha questioned. 

“It is just still very awkward,” Leith paused, thinking if she wanted to say what was on her mind. “I fear — Bjorn may not like me. I would like us to be friends, to make this situation easier.”

“Oh darling,” Lagertha laughed. “Trust me, Bjorn likes you. Perhaps even more.”

Lagertha’s words lingered in her mind the rest of the day. Leith knew she and Bjorn needed to have an honest conversation when he returned home that night. 

* * * * * 

“I am sorry for accusing you the other night. I should have trusted you when you said you were with your sister.” 

Greer turned in bed to her other side, becoming face to face with her husband. “Why didn’t you?”

“I do not have the most experience with women emotionally. I was worried about you, and I —,” Don’t let that Christian make you stupid brother. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Greer smiled, pulling her Halfdan in for a kiss.

* * * * * 

Ubbe had left for the day when Isla went into labor. Thralls flooded their house, preparing everything they needed and shouting instructions at Isla. The pain, the chaos, the noise was all too much for her. She mustered her strength and pushed the women out of the room, locking the door behind them.

“Princess Isla, open the door!” The eldest thrall, Agnes shouted and banged on the door. “We need to help you! The baby is coming early it is dangerous!”

Isla let out another agonizing scream, “I will do it myself! I do not want anyone to help me! I do not need help! AHHHHH!”

Agnes continued to banging, “Princess, if you do not open the door I will get your husband to break it down!”

“I am not letting anyone in here!” 

Isla didn’t hear Agnes tell another thrall to go find Ubbe and tell him what was happening. 

“AHHHHHHH!”

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

*Gifs not mine

It's been like 3 years so I don't now if anyone will read this...my laptop broke and I finally got a new one!

@browneyed-babyy @ivarthebloodyking @heavenly1927​ @darkwhisperswolf @-thatgirloverthere-​ @mdlady​ @anteatingbitchlizard

[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

[hc-geralt-23]

Hello. I saw your requests are one and was wondering if you can wire something for Halfdan the Black from Vikings? Thank you!

"A Prince's Sacrifice for His Princess"

Halfdan the Black, a brave and valiant prince from the North, had been travelling the world for many months on a quest for adventure. But, when he found himself in a far-off kingdom, he found something beyond the usual excitement. There, he met a princess--a beautiful and wise woman from a distant land.

Halfdan was immediately smitten, but he soon discovered that the princess was in grave danger and needed saving. Before Halfdan knew it, he had made a promise to himself to do whatever it took to save her, even if it meant sacrificing himself.

He gathered together an army of the bravest warriors from his home kingdom and set off to rescue the princess. After weeks of battle, Halfdan and his forces were successful in thwarting the princess's captors and freeing her from her captivity.

Once the princess was safe, Halfdan bowed before her, declaring his undying love and loyalty. Though the princess had never seen such courage and dedication before, she reciprocated Halfdan's affections, and the two were soon married.

Halfdan had sacrificed much for his princess, but beneath the armor and dust, his heart was filled with joy. He had saved his beloved, and in doing so, had found true love.

[thelirofnorthlands]

Raise hell 🙌

[bootylicous2006]

My other account for Vikings imagines is @woahhhgwendolyn

Go follow if you like my stuff over there. I post most days. Sometimes everyday If I am able to.

[woahhhgwendolyn]

Sex With Halfdan Would Include...

-Him trying his best to kiss you softly and gently but it always ends up rough and his kisses always end up everywhere but your lips.

-Him trying to be gentle with you and tries to go slow with you but ends up forgetting about being gentle and ends up being rough instead. You have a lot of obvious reminders all over your body because of it.

-Him loving to praise you on how good you are doing and how good you are taking him in you. He also loves to give you cute nicknames.

-Him loving to go down on you even though he feels like he is not very skilled at it. Then he would often slap your folds after he is done making you cum just to make sure you know that he is not done with you yet.

-Him loving to surprise you with his thrusts from going slow to fast. He loves the look on your face whenever he does this.

-Him loving to slap your ass whenever he can because he loves to hear you squeal a bit when he does this and also how there is a red mark on your ass after he slaps it.

-Both of you often going to the market to buy new clothes because he cannot help but rip your clothes off of you.

-He loves to show you how much he loves you. No matter what.

[axelsagewrites]

Could I ask about something fluffy for Halfdan the black from Vikings please for the V day creations 😁🥰🥰🥰🥰Thank you 🥰🥰🥰

Halfdan*Lofn

Pairing: halfdan x goddess!reader

Word count: 1352

Warnings: forbidden love, made up norse festival bc they didnt have valentines (or anything similar i could find)

Masterlist Here

Halfdan never felt the need to make friends. Not in the way his brother Harald did at least. Halfdan had drinking buddies, war buddies, hell even fuck buddies, but he did not see the point of befriending another lord just for his company. Though Halfdan was not the brother destined to be king.

Halfdan quite frankly didn’t understand why they even had to stop in this godforsaken village. So, when his brother told him they had to stay another five days to take part in their festival he found himself groaning and whining like a toddler.

The only reason he hadn’t abandoned his brother and went elsewhere was because of you. well, he didn’t know your name only your face. But the gods had made it the most beautiful face he’d ever seen.

When he asked his brother about the festival even Harald seemed to know nothing. your village had been named after Freyja so every year you would honour her but neither knew what to expect.

-

The bonfire was higher than any house with children dancing around the flames and drinks flowing freely with the adults. As Harald nursed his third cup his eyes fell upon you and finally, he felt like this may have been worth him staying.

You were sat alone, a few feet away from most on a fallen tree staring into the flames. Before he could think the alcohol had decided for him and he was crossing the grass towards you. “May I sit?” he asked, trying to act nonchalant but he felt an odd blush raise in his cheeks as you lifted your gaze.

Your eyes scanned over him for a moment in silence, from his tip toes to his hair, before finally you gave a small nod. “I’m Halfdan,” he said, breaking the silence once more as he sat down, and he felt relived you gave your name back. “Why are you sitting all alone?” he asked making you laugh a little, “What?”

“Nothing. I like someone who does not beat around the bush,” you said, a twinkle in your eye that made him blush again before your eyes returned to the fire, “I like to sit with my thoughts especially on days like this. Everyone seems so happy,”

“And you, are you happy?” he asked, his gaze fixed on you even if you do not return it.

However, he did notice the smile that tugged on your lips, “I can be at times,” usually he’d roll his eyes at an answer like yours, but this felt different.

“You never answered my question,” he said, and you hummed in response, “Why are you alone?”

“You were the first person to ask to sit,” you replied, finally turning to face him, “I think the better question is why did you?”

Up this close Halfdan could see the flames reflected in your eyes despite the fire being so far away. he could feel its warmth as if it was sat next to him, “I suppose I just wanted to meet you,” he said, his head becoming hazy.

“Are you well? you look like you may faint,” you said, brow knotting in concern.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, “It is very warm is it not?” he said, pulling at his shirt to fan himself.

He only stopped when you stood up, “Come with me. I know where you can cool down,” you said, and he did not need to be told twice.

He followed you down the hill the bonfire was on down to the edge of the shore where you slowly walked along as the breeze from the water finally cooled him down, “I’m not sure what happened,” Halfdan said when he finally felt he could breathe again.

Your smile almost took it away though, “It’s alright. Many become overwhelmed by the end of the night. The fire can burn awfully hot,”

“What is the fire for? I know your celebrating Freyja but why?” he asked, pausing in his tracks when you laughed softly.

You stopped as well and turned to face him, “We do not only celebrate her. well, I do not at least,” you said, turning your gaze to the sea, “We celebrate love. Freyja is of course only one of the three we celebrate,”

“And the other two?”

“Well one is Sjöfn though some rumour she is just Frigg in disguise,”

“Why would a goddess need to disguise herself?” Halfdan asked, suddenly very interested in every word you had to say. “Is she not the goddess of marriage?”

“She is. as well as prophecy and motherhood however sadly, love does not always lie in the marriage. That’s where the third comes in. Lofn,”

“I recognise the name,” he said though he could not place from when.

You chuckled however, “Many do. Few know why. She is protecting the forbidden love. The true love. The love that cannot always be, but you will never lose. She is who I celebrate on nights like these,” you said as your eyes turned to gaze back at the fire.

Halfdan felt a flare grow in his chest, “Why is that? I cannot imagine a man loving you and letting you go no matter the reason,”

Your lips quirked into a smile as your eyes turned to him, “I am not in a forbidden love. Not yet at least. Though I do find the notion romantical,”

“Romantical?”

“Romantical. Mesmerizing. Enthralling. Whatever word you choose. The notion of a love so strong it breaks the rules,”

“You do not like to follow the rules?”

“I do not see why I would,” you said.

Halfdan found himself cracking a slight smirk, “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he said before you decided it was finally time to head back to the fire. As you began to walk up the hill, he decided to ask another question, “Why the bonfire?”

“They say no matter how far you are from the flames you will feel them on your skin if you’re sat with your one love and if you feel a chill stood beside it then it is not meant to be,”

“Is that why there are so many girls sat around it?” he snorted when he noticed just how close to the flames some of them sat. you however chose not to respond to that, and it was enough to make him swallow hard. “Do you believe in it?”

“I do,”

“Why?”

“Because I know it’s true,”

“How?”

“I just do,” you said with a small smile as you arrived back to your original seat, “Your brother is looking for you,” you said, nodding over at the dark-haired man motioning to Halfdan to come over. “I’ll wait here,”

Halfdan sighed, “I’ll only be a moment,” he said as he stalked over to his brother.

“I was wondering where you went,” Harald said as he held out a drink to his brother, “Another?”

“I went on a walk,” he said as he took the cup.

Harald made a face however, “By yourself?”

Halfdan rolled his eyes, “No with…” he said, turning to point to you only to realise the space you once stood was empty, “She was right there,” he muttered before telling Harald your name.

Harald just shook his head, “You weren’t with anyone brother. I saw you walk up the hill yourself,”

“That’s impossible,” he muttered as his eyes scanned the crowd.

His attention was only drawn back when he heard Harald shiver, “You’d think that fire would feel warmer,” he said making Halfdan’s eyes widen.

His eyes turned to the bonfire, staring into the flames. He saw you through them like before but this time he did not see you on the other side. Perhaps he’d drank too much Harald suggested when he assured him no one had been sitting on that fallen tree. However, when Halfdan saw the tree standing unbent and unwavering the next day he knew he had met you. he just had not realised you were a god. A god who he could never love. It was all so romantical he thought.

Taglist sign up here

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[disasterofastory]

Fuck you (Halfdan x Reader)

Fuck you Halfdan x Reader Warnings: rough smut, fighting, mention of cheating (no angst)

Summary: Halfdan and you meet again.

The sun is bright and warm at the top of the clear, blue sky. The rays glide over the blade of your sword. The steel glints with every move you make. Your muscles are taut as you keep your posture. You are covered in mud and blood. Bruises already form on your skin. Your lips pull into a snarl as your gaze meets with the man's dark eyes in front of you. His blonde hair hides half of his face. Your eyes follow the lines of his tattoos with familiarity. Adrenaline and anger rush through your veins at the view. "Y/N," he says your name, breaking the silence between you two. You can barely hear him because of the chaos around you. Cries and shouts fill the clearing, mixing with the strikes of the swords. A shield falls into the mud a few meters away from you. You can see Ubbe from the corner of your eyes. You don't reply to him. Pushing your leg against the ground, you start to run. Your heart throbs with pain as you get closer with each step.

What are you doing? Are you really ready to fight against him? To kill him?

The sharp sound of your swords meeting in the air echoes in your mind. Your arm trembles as you try to keep yourself against his push. A growl breaks up from your chest. Your eyes are still intertwined with his. "Y/N!" He shouts your name. "Y/N!" "You left!" You scream at him. Your swords meet again with a new elan. Betrayal fuels your every move. "Y/N!" With a powerful swing, he makes you drop your weapon with a painful grunt. The swords fall onto the ground, but you don't even have time to reach out for it. Halfdan hauls you up despite your best efforts to get free from his arms. His shoulder digs into your stomach, and his arms curl around your legs to keep you from kicking him. Your fists meet his back repeatedly. You hit him again and again. "Let me go!" You shout at him. Blood rushes into your head. You choke on your own saliva. "Fight, you coward!" It's his turn to say nothing, and when you look up before disappearing into the forest, you see the others continuing their fight without noticing yours or Halfdan's absence.

"Put me down!" Your voice seems too loud in the quiet forest. The sounds of the battle are muffled and far away. "Halfdan!" You hit his back again. "What the fuck are you doing?" A sudden grunt escapes your lips when he drops you down. Your back falls against a tree as you try to keep your balance. Your chest moves up and down rapidly as you stare at the tall man in front of you. "I won't fight with you," he says, not looking away from you even for a second. He is determined and serious. "Because you are a coward," you snap at him. You know you play a dangerous game. You have no weapon, and you don't know where he hides his daggers since he left his sword on the field too. "Y/N…" "What?" You snap at him again. "What else do you have to say? You left! You went with Bjorn! And now you can't even fight with me like a real man!" A vicious growl rumbles in your chest, and before you can move away, he is on you.

His kiss is bruising, all teeth and bites. Thrusting his tongue into your mouth, Halfdan doesn't let you get away from him. Your grip on his tunic is tight and confusing. You want to push and pull him at the same time. Your mind, body, and soul want different things, and you don't know what to do.

So you let your anger guide you.

A low groan vibrates on your lips when you bite his bottom lip to pull on the soft flesh. His hold on the line of your jaw to keep you in place will bruise. The taste of blood spreads across your tongue. Your lips are swollen when you break away. His arms don't let you go far. Your body is still pressed against his. "Y/N…" "Just shut up," you groan. "I don't want to hear your stupid voice!" You hit him on the chest again and again. "Or your bullshit excuses! You are a fucking traitor, Halfdan! You ran after that idiot! Did you see the world? Huh? Did you like it? Or your new owner didn't let you?"

Pain runs over your spine as he pushes you down onto the ground. You hit your head on something, and you feel the warmth of your own blood at the nape of your neck. The world around you gets blurry for a long second, but Halfdan doesn't stop.

"I didn't leave you," he groans against the curve of your neck. His lips are rough as he nibbles on your skin. His teeth sink into the part between your neck and shoulder. "Liar!" You grunt. "You are a coward! A man would…" "I'm your man!" He says, reaching down to free himself from his pants, and you push him off of yourself. "Don't fool yourself," you stand up hurriedly. "You and I… it's over," you tell him while you start to make your way back to the others. He is still on the ground. Dick out. "And I fucked your brother."

His roar really scares you this time. It strikes through your body as you gasp when he grabs your ankle. You bite your tongue because of the fall. Blood fills your mouth, and you spat it out. "You fucker!" You groan, wanting to turn onto your back, but he is on you again. His whole weight is on you. "Get off of me!" "Did you enjoy it?" He asks next to your ear. His erection grinds against your bottom. "Fucking my brother? Who started it, huh? I bet he did. He always wanted a piece of you." "Halfdan!" Your voice is a mix of shout and moan. "When?" He continues while tearing your pants off of you. "Did he at least wait until my ship disappeared at the horizon? Or he climbed on you immediately? Were you happy? Did you want him?" His hard cock slides between your ass cheeks. His hands keep you on the ground by your shoulders. Your face is on the ground. Mud sticks to your sweaty skin. "What do you want to hear, huh?" You ask him, wanting to turn around to look at him, but he pushes you back. Pain radiates from your shoulder. "Or did you seduce him? Did you forget who you belong to? Did you forget who owns your pussy so easily?" "Well," you grunt. "It seems like you are the one who forgot my pussy!" "Never," he replies immediately. You feel his every word on your back. "I never forgot this sweet hole!" The sound you make is barely recognizable as a laugh. "How does it feel, huh?" You taunt him. "Knowing that somebody else used my body?" Another groan is your only answer, but instead of scaring you, the vicious sound goes straight to your cunt. Your walls clench around the head of his cock. Your eyes fall shut at the familiar feeling. "Did you cum?" He asks, pushing inside you with one powerful thrust. "Did you cum around his cock, huh? Did he taste your sweet juices?" "Why do you care?" You moan. He doesn't let you adjust around his size, and you don't want him to. You welcome the slight pain as your hole stretches around him. "You were probably busy with another woman!" "And I thought about you pussy!" He grunts. You can barely keep up your hips to meet his pounding. You can hear the wet sound of your joined bodies even through his words. It's sloppy and fast. "Well, I didn't think about your cock! I was too occupied riding your brother!" That's the last straw. Grabbing your hips, he pulls you onto your knees. His cock is inside you the whole time.

His grip on your hips is tight and painful. His fingertips dig into your flesh. Your arms are in front of you to brace yourself against him. Your forehead is pressed onto the ground, and your eyes are closed. You are sweaty, bloody, and dirty. Everything hurts, and your mouth tastes like blood. And still. You don't remember the last time you were so content and happy. Halfdan fills you up, pounding into you rapidly. Your ass shakes with every thrust. Your juices drip down, making a mess on your inner thighs. "Whose cock is inside you?" The blonde Viking asks. "Yours." Your words are muffled, and Halfdan doesn't like it. Your back arches when he pulls your upper body up by your hair. Your skull hurts at the powerful tugs. "I didn't hear you," he tells you. "Whose cock is inside you, Y/N?" "Yours," you cry out. "Who is the only one who can make you feel this way?" "You!" Tears run down your face when he tugs on your hair stronger. It burns. Everything burns. You are sore and tired and in pain. "Your pussy is mine, Y/N," he grunts. His cock slides in and out of you. "You belong to me! You are mine!" "Yes," you mewl. "Yesyesyesyes! Halfdan!" Your muscles twitch, and your aching cunt pulses and flutters around him. "Scream my name, Y/N," he yells at you, pushing you down on the ground, keeping your lower body still up for his cock to fuck. His large hand is a heavy weight on the middle of your back. "Halfdan! Yes! Gods, please, Halfdan!" You taste the wet soil in your mouth as you shout his name. Your voice is hoarse. Your orgasm is powerful and merciless. It takes away every power from your body until you are nothing, but a hot cunt for him to enjoy. "Your pussy belongs to me, Y/N," he growls. His cock jerks inside you. His hot seed fills your hole until the mix of your juices flows down your legs. "Nobody can fuck this pussy as good as me! Nobody can fuck you like I do!" "Nobody," you repeat his words without your control. Your lips move on their own accord. "Halfdan!"

The world still spins around you when you turn to your side. Your lower body is still bare. Your cunt is swollen and sensitive and covered in your wetness and his cum. Pain and pleasure make your whole body tremble. Halfdan lies next to you on his back. His face is flushed, and his mouth is open as he gulps down the air. "Did you…" the man tries to speak after long moments. "Did you really…?" One glance at your smirk and the mischievous glint in your eyes, and he knows the answer. And it's enough to climb up above you for another round.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Vikings and their eras

Summary: what era would vikigns be in if they weren't in their own

Notes: I did a lot of text for this one, bc I loved thinking about this!! There are some pretty popular characters missing (Ragnar, Sigurd, Athelstan) where I just couldn’t imagine a certain era for them. Thank you so much for your request :)))))) Some of these eras aren’t wonderful or filled with positivity but that doesn’t mean these characters wouldn’t thrive.

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @leithdragon @demon-of-the-ancient-world @alicedopey, @ivarlover @levithestripper @batmandallyboy @akayxo09 @vrtualfairy (hmu to be added!)

based on this request | masterlist | requests are OPEN!

Lagertha

Lagertha would thrive well in times of crises and war (lmao). The black death, WW1 or 2, or long periods of war/famine/sickness is where Lagertha does well. Think about her what you will, but she brings people together, manages them, and takes care of them. She’s a natural leader, and a fighter, so she’s able to protect her community.

We’ve seen examples of this in the series, think during the sickness in Kattegat, or when she takes over and completely builds up Hedeby. People tend to trust her, and especially women look up to/feel safe around her. When disaster strikes, she would be able to save/take care of them.

Aslaug

I had to think about this for a really long time because I think that Aslaug fits so well into the era the show is set in, however, I finally decided on the 1920s. Even as a feminine woman in Viking Scandinavia, she had a lot of authority over herself and knew how to grow a business (Kattegat) when Hirst wasn’t feeling sexist.

In the 1920s, she’d live in a big city, maybe Berlin or New York, and she’d own some sort of speakeasy. I’d love to think that her speakeasy would be a place for the very few pagans of the city to meet up in secret, and she herself would still be a norse pagan, völva, etc. Also, she’d dip her toes into wild jewellery design (think Schiaparelli). Definitely someone who attracts artists and would be considered a muse.

Rollo

Middle Medieval Ages for sure. He thrives being a knight because he’s a manipulative little hoe that I can’t stand. Gets to do his performative heroism during tourneys and woo women only to leave them all alone.

Rollo is not a good person, esp. towards women. He constantly gets into trouble with the church and with fathers whose daughters he ‘dishonors’. Definitely needs a wife like Gisla to slap some sense into him. I think that eventually (mid forties) he’d start to mature. Also, having children would help him become a better person (I think they should have put that into a show).

Bjorn

Bjorn thrives well in the late 2000s to early 2010s, when travel blogs were on the rise. He’s one of the early influencers, and travels the world together with Halfdan. This only works bc cancel culture isn’t real yet. Bjorn would say some stupid shit and get hounded for it let’s be real. Nonetheless, there is always some rumour about him and Halfdan being a thing (they would be if they both didn’t constantly say ‘that’s gay’).

Alternatively, Bjorn might make a good colonizer (can I say that?), but it’s not like he isn’t that already.

Ubbe

Ubbe would thrive during the late medieval ages (defo not the Renaissance though). He’s the type of man who would enjoy the idea of the charming knight. I think Ubbe would definitely enjoy the idea of quests/saving damsels in distress/having the arranged-marriage-turned-lovestory (he’s a booktok girly tbh).

This doesn’t mean that all of this is totally pure. Ubbe gets some shit twisted in canon as well (ESPECIALLY concerning Margrethe). Maybe his first war was something crusade-like, and he went into it thinking of heroic acts and blabla and then got fucked up by battle and gore. Also has a religion and Madonna/whore complex problem.

Hvitserk

In the show, Hvitserk was always seeking sense/purpose while also struggling with balance, which is why I think he would thrive in the 1970s. This is THE era for protests and social change. Climate change, feminism and sexuality all became important topics. Going to protests would be able to give him a sense of change, and I think it would be liberating for him as well, to be able to free himself of his restraints by changing something.

I’ll go into communes a little more for Helga, but I think Hvitserk would thrive in an early commune a lot. He needs to have people around him taking care of his mental health, and this would be great for his mental health. Yes, therapy helps a lot of people, but I think if Hvitserk lived in our time, he would think that talk therapy is stupid, and completely close himself off to it. This guy just needs a lot of love, okay?

Also, he needs to smoke some 70s weed every once in a while.

Ivar

Just like Hvitserk, Ivar would thrive during the 1970s. However, this is for completely different reasons and also means that no one else gets to thrive. I chose the 1970s because it’s THE serial killer decade.

That honestly sounds terrible but we all know it’s true.

Ivar would be bitter about being discriminated/not being able to fully take part in society/not getting any women and that would turn him homicidal. He definitely overcomplicated his killings and does shitty bloodeagles to get some cool name but all he gets is like “the Viking killer” or something and he’s so mad about that he reveals himself on his deathbed to change his title. It doesn’t work.

Floki

Floki just wants to be where Helga is, but he would not thrive in the 2020s. I think he’d get in arguments with Helga about vaccinations. However, I want Floki to be in the 2010s/2020s with Helga. He definitely has some kind of hallucination-related mental illness at the least. I think that especially the season where he acted out against Helga (season 4?) shows that his mental health was making him harmful towards others and probably towards himself.

I can’t diagnose Floki, but I think we can all see that he might have some kind of bipolar disorder/mania disorder on top of a schizophrenia. He needs some kind of meds, and he needs someone to help him taking them.

Helga

This is very specific, but Helga would do AMAZING during the early era of Covid (like March 2020). Yes, she’s a very social person, but I do believe that Helga would be part of a quite isolated commune if she lived during modern times, and even during that time be isolated with Floki.

I would like to think that the commune could be self-sufficient and Helga just gets to go ham making banana bread and care packages. She thrives in this time where she doesn’t really have to go to work (even though she loves being a kindergartener too) and gets to take care of the people in her commune, and even further than that from the comfort of her own home.

Astrid

This woman thrives where no one else does, and that is toxic 2020s twitter. All she does is tweet, get cancelled, tweet, get popular, repeat. She’s so so annoying and bullies a bunch of people who don’t deserve to be bullied. Is most definitely blocked by trump, hailey Bieber and the Kardashians at least.

Makes a living by selling feetpics.

Ecbert

Ecbert thrives in the 1980s. Now. Hear me out. Ecbert in neon Zumba clothes. There, that’s my reason.

I’m just kidding, there’s more. I’m not old enough to fully understand most of the decades I’m talking about in here but the 1980s, it seems, were this extremely colorful and wild decade. Literally everywhere, color just kind of seemed to explode, and I think Ecbert would thrive in this kind of chaotic atmosphere.

(are there people in their forties or older on this post that can verify?)

Aelswith

I’m really sad that we didn’t go into Aelswith more in the show, but I firmly believe that Aelswith would make an amazing Sufragette. Thinking back to her time on the show, she was always very firm in standing her ground, more so than Judith or even Lagertha in some ways (especially in the sense that she was SO YOUNG). She directed and strengthened Alfred, and I think during season 6, she used a beartrap to defend her baby?

Anyway, I imagine her as a rich/aristocratic lady in London who definitely steers the household while Alfred brings the money in (he likes art) and she decides that, if she puts in the work in the house, she should be able to decide over the country that house is in as well.

[shivada-jade]

i present to you the winner of the poll: Dainsleif!!

can be platonic or romantic or whatever it doesn’t matter

warnings: light mentions of blood. one mention of needle for imagery…. Uhhhhh that’s about it . Some spoilers? Idk it’s dainsleif

The rocks collapsed to the ground. Dust and debris exploded. Dainsleif covered his mouth by using his elbow. He coughed.

His heart rate elevated. His hand lifted, trying to create the blue sparks to lift the rocks. He exhausted his magic helping other people escape earlier. He pushed through the boulders with all his strength. Water starts to collect in his eyes from the attacking dust.

The boulder didn’t budge. He punched the damn rock until his knuckles started bleeding. He unsheathed his sword and tried to slash his way through. Scratches barely showed on the rough rock. The rock deflected the sharp sword until it turned dull. Loud clashes and frustrated grunts echoed.

Dainsleif glanced behind him. His knights were now black dots, escorting people out out of the ruins of Khaenri’ah. Red and orange smog blurred his vision. He released his sword and it clattered on the ground- its purpose was done.

“Are you still in there?” Dainsleif yelled with his voice cracking at the end.

A muffled shout cried back, “Yeah!”

“Listen… I… I can’t get you out.” Dain’s bottom lift threatened to quiver. He gave up trying to push through the stubborn rock. His back leaned against the boulder. He stared at his bloodied hands. The liquid dripped down to the ground. He inhaled, but breathing to him was a thousand needles poking his lungs.

The other person took a moment to reply. “Oh,” they whispered. They paused and the Twilight Sword can imagine the unspoken sorrow. “Dain, I need you to listen carefully.”

His head tilted upwards so his tears wouldn’t fall down. He predicted the next words and waited for them to be spoken.

“I need you to try and escape with the others. Don’t mess with me by trying to say it’s your knightly duty.” 

Dainsleif stayed silent. He slid down the rock blocking his way through. He wrapped his arms around his knees. “Khaenri’ah,” he started slowly. “We were destined to fall according to the seven.”

He heard no response and took it as a sign to continue. He felt the need to spew words, even if it didn’t make sense. “I am bound to my duty. I left Halfdan in charge. I know he can do well.”

His arm draped across his eyes. He was sluggish. His body wanted to shut down. He coughed. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah. I’m here, Dain.” The voice weakly replied. They took a sharp breath. “I think… This is the end, Dain.”

Dainsleif pushed his hair out of his eyes. Most of his hair clung to the sweat on his face from trying to allow everyone escape the chaos from the archons.

“Hey, Dain?” They spoke, using every opportunity to say Dainsleif’s name because they didn’t know when it would be the last. “Thanks for staying with me.”

The blonde protector hummed. He exhaled and stared at the orange haze afar. Rubble crashing the ground and the booming sounds of giant spears crashed the ground, forming pillar like structures. Strong winds pushed buildings and people around as they screamed desperately trying to hold to the ground. 

Dainsleif sighed. He stood up, ignoring the screaming fatigue. He placed his hand on the boulder and leaned his forehead on it. He made a decision.

He closed his eyes and breathed, “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah…” their voice quieted. “I’d like that.”

Dainsleif clenched his jaw tightly and leaned away. He backed up and tried to look over the towering rubble. He clenched his fists. He quickly dashed away with light footsteps.

You sat against the rock, hearing his footsteps become quieter. You stared at the crimson sky. “I’ll see you around.”

…

“What did you see in that one Lumine?” Paimon floated around the traveller, curious.

The unusually dull knowledge capsule glowed yellow. Some purple leaked through. It was found in the depths of a domain connecting to irminsul.

Lumine pondered, placing the gem in her bag. “I’ll think about it. I don’t know if I wanna tell you!”

“Hmph!” Paimon stomped the air, “No fair!”