#injured eivor fic

[floralpunkbarton]

i'm tryin to work and all my brain will let stick to the wall is "valhalla au but eivor is Seriously Hurt in the fight against kjotve and can't follow sigurd to england right away (like. a year or two delay.)"

[abbysdolly]

RAAAAAAA VIKING ABBY AND READER

(idk if you do x reader stuff i just saw your requests for asks lmao)

⁀➷ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑭-𝑲𝑰𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑫 ˚₊‧⁺˖

𝘷𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘹 𝘷𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

ೀ › 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: OMG anon I've been thinking about viking!abby so many times before! And thank you so much for being officially my first request! hope you like it and sorry if there's any errors hehe. (Also I took the last name for Abby because of Eivor the main character of Assassin's Creed Valhalla, and the style of female Eivor is how I envision viking!abby) ♡

ೀ › 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Reader is female, suggestive content so minors do not interact, fluff and lightly mention of battles and scars. Let me know if there's anything else! ♡

(Special thanks to @andromeda-abides and @little-star-bun who helped me proofread this fic ♡)

There she was. Accompanied by the imposing howl of wolves, ax in hand. Crimson droplets adorned her shield and clothes while her slightly chapped lips quivered with irrepressible courage. She fought like no man known could. The way her ax moved smoothly like the wind itself was hypnotic and filled with such grace, passion and anger.

Her golden hair trapped in tiny and big braids, some strands danced freely adorned with silver rings that made it look like the golden light of the sun combined with the mysterious silver stars from the midnight sky.

And in that exact moment you knew that your heart belonged to her, for eternity.

The stories people told didn't do her justice. Especially the first time you saw her fight. The first time your eyes and hers connected with deep love and devotion between the clashing of axes and bodies that now sleeped eternally waiting for the Valkyries.

Like a ravenous wolf she ended every enemy in sight; she was a living myth. Some even believed that she was perhaps the unknown daughter of Odin himself, given that her strength was comparable to the All-father himself.

But only you could see the truth behind those tough looks and that pretty scar that adorned one side of her face, a scar of forgotten battles that helped her to build the respect she had now. You could see the woman who had fears and weakness like all humans, but there was nothing more beautiful to you.

"Freyja, Lady of the North, empower me. Give me strength, withhold my fear, embolden my spirit... Give me courage" she whispered, the familiar view of her kneeled in front of the wooden statue of the Goddess only meant that another battle was waiting beyond the threshold of your shared home.

The prayers to the Goddess Freyja and Odin were the only things that accompanied Abby to her battles, the battles to defend the honor of her people and most importantly to defend the land where you lived in peace with her.

"They are back, they are safe!" one of the children shouted while running to the entry of the village. Soon enough you heard the cries of the families that awaited for their beloved ones.

Your feet moved with such speed, eager eyes searching for Abby that was greeting the many children around her that were impatient to know the adventures she had this time.

"Okay, okay. I'll tell you all that we saw before dinner!" she answered to the children who ran and laughed around her.

Her beautiful eyes met yours making you feel goosebumps like the first time you exchanged looks with her.

A tender smile found a place in her face. She fought for days and she was beyond tired but seeing you was the best part of coming back home.

"Abby, you're back! Oh you can't imagine how much I missed you. Are you alright? Are you injured?" your voice breaking like the thin ice that covers the rivers in the winter, filled with emotion.

Trembling hands caressed Abby's face, making sure she was really there and not something created by your mind. But no, she was there with you.

"Of course I'm back, like I always do" she responded with a now toothy smile and continued "Shh, shh. I'm alright my love, I'm here with you… Finally" her lips soon found yours with deep need and desire, her familiar pine scent filled your senses while the heated kiss said better than any words could.

"Let me help clean you up before dinner, you need to rest my love" you whispered once the kiss ended, her forehead pressed slightly to yours while her big and calloused hands holded your face with tenderness.

A surprised gasp left your mouth as soon as you were now being carried away by Abby, your waist resting against one of her broad shoulders like it was nothing.

Shortly after between laughs she put you down, the door already opened because of the urge to see her a couple of minutes ago "Well, thank you for the ride" you teased as a smirk appeared on Abby's face.

She sat on one of the two wooden chairs, humming when you began to peel off each one of her clothes leaving her upper body bare "You don't have to thank me, I like carrying pretty girls" her cocky attitude always made you smile endlessly, Abby carried herself with lot of self confidence and you couldn't blame her, she was powerful and beautiful. And she knew it.

"Oh, so you carry every pretty girl that crosses your view?" you questioned, eyebrow arched slightly. Your question made her chuckle "Well, not exactly. Just one pretty girl caught my sight… and my heart" she revealed, her voice and gestures exaggerated making her look like a teenager in love and you couldn't help but roll your eyes and smile at her.

"You're such a tease, Abby Wolf-Kissed" her legs opened to leave place to yours, your hands undoing her tight braids making her blonde locks fall beyond her shoulders and covering her chest slightly "But I love you that way" you continued, this time in a gentle and loving whisper due to the closeness. The dim and warm light of the lantern illuminated the scars spaced across Abby's body, your fingertips traced along them and you remembered how some of them were cleaned and treated by you.

She looks up at you, feeling safe under your gaze and touch "I thank the gods for letting me see you again. And I thank you for doing my duties while I'm away" her hands found home on your waist trying to have you closer.

"You don't need to thank me, Abby. I enjoy taking care of our people like you always do, I thank the gods as well for bringing you back to me… Safe'' her eyes sparkled beautifully and just by looking at them you could feel all the love behind those icy orbs.

Her hands caressed your waist going down slightly to your thighs, missing the feeling of your warm body against the skin of her rough hands. Your cheeks warmed up at the familiar feeling of her hands roaming your body with such confidence, your body molding like clay under her hands making your current task of cleaning her body something so hard to do.

Her eyes never left your face as you tried to soak a piece of cloth to clean hers. The black painting around her eyes now slightly faded and easily to clean, the dirt going away allowing you to see those pretty freckles spaced across her nose and cheeks "You're so beautiful" you whispered again now cleaning her neck and shoulders, the air thick enough that Abby could cut it with her ax.

She smiled, her cheeks getting warm as soon as she heard your compliment. Even though she was tough and strong you could make her so shy with just a compliment "Not as beautiful as you, my love" she answered in a whisper, the muscles of her toned arms flexing each time you passed the wet cloth on her warm and freckled skin.

Her gentle, slightly calloused hand cupped your cheek, searching for those beautiful eyes of yours. Searching for those pretty lips she craved so badly until she couldn't control herself anymore and stole a kiss from them. The passion glowed through both your pores and each gentle touch said a small "I love you" onto the other's skin.

The only thing in your mind was her and only her, all of her. Her smell, her hair, her lips, her body, how warm she was, everything.

"I have something for you" she breathed between the heated kisses. "Close your eyes for me, please" her velvety voice making your head fuzzy (obviously not for the heated make out session you had a couple of seconds ago).

And so you did, you closed your eyes and sighed nervously. Her gifts and surprises were always exciting but this time everything felt even more intimate, more serious.

Gently Abby put a gold ring out of one of the tiny pockets in her belt.

"Open your eyes now, my love" she whispered, leaving a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose while putting the precious ring on the palm of your hand. Her heartbeat fast, eager to see your reaction.

Your eyes opened slowly seeing her red cheeks and a shy smile, she took your hand and took the ring again putting it slowly on your ring finger, eyes not leaving yours.

The ring was shaped like a little flower with gemstones for the petals, each one shining beautifully almost like Abby's eyes. "Oh Abby this is so beautiful, you–" she cut you off with a gentle kiss on your lips "My love… Would you marry me?" each side of her hands on your face as she said that, her voice making you enter to the Valhalla almost instantly.

"Of course I want to Abby! I would be so glad to be your wife. I'd love to" you answered with tears of happiness running down your cheeks. Her smile grew bigger from the pride of finally having you as her precious wife. Her strong arms lifted you with ease and she laughed with joy while she spinned you around the house.

Both of your hearts felt the same thing as the first time you saw each other. With unconditional love and devotion, though she wasn't a seer, she definitely saw that you were for her and only her; your destinies were sewn together by Fregga herself.

Thank you for reading! Any like reblog or comment are really appreciated, have a good day/night and don´t forget to drink water! love ya! ♡

[sapphic-woes]

Eivor x Fem!Reader - Merciful

A/N: So...first fic ever doing x reader, bear with me as I get the hang of this. In this, Eivor is injured and comes across a nun who helps her out. Minors DNI. 

Word count: 4k.  AO3 link

_______

Mercy. It was a virtue that was usually praised. However, when it came to you many said it would be your downfall.

“You’re too nice, too caring, too understanding. That's why everyone always uses you.” You knew that. It was easy to tell when a kind smile masked ill intentions, and yet you could never bring yourself not to lend a helping hand. For that was the duty of a nun, wasn’t it?

“Ugh…lady…” As you dropped the bucket of water you’d fetched from the river, you soon realized there were some good deeds even you found difficult to do.

It was a dane, one bloody and bruised, dragging himself…herself, up out of the river. It was a struggle not to scream, she looked like the devil himself with her war paint running down her face and blue eyes focused on your startled form. Even in her plight, she still managed to notice your instinctive step back, and her glare in response–as if daring you to call the guards–making it feel like it would be pointless to try. 

“Please…” Only the second time she spoke did you fully register her voice–both its peculiar ruggedness and the fact that she spoke English–sending a shiver down your spine. Clearly, she was asking for help. But to help a dane? 

You weren’t a fool. You lived in an abbey, and heathens loved to attack them. It was a risk you gladly took to serve the Lord, and you had been prepared to face death by the hands of a dane since the moment you became a nun. Now you were facing a dane alright, yet somehow the Lord was testing you with her imminent death rather than your own. 

Do I let her live, or leave her to die? The choices led to two grim realities. Her death within the hour, or the abbey’s potential massacre within a few weeks' time.

You prayed to the Lord that the if of the latter would never become a reality.

She was heavy, stinking of dirt and blood. By the time you decided to save her, she had already passed out, leaving you to somehow drag her body to a suitable area. Luckily, being the pushover of the abbey had some perks. In your desperation to find solitude, you’d stumbled across a cave not far from the river and used it to rest from time to time. 

Once there, you huffed, laying her down on the dirt floor as gently as your sore arms could. Then you were off to fetch a new bucket of water and medical aid, explaining poorly to the reverend that you were simply nursing an injured baby calf stuck in the woods. He thought it was useless work–but work no one other than you would do–so he let you go, and with haste, you returned to the dane.

Once you entered the cave again, you set to work. The bleeding had to stop and to stop the bleeding the wound needed to be located. Oh, you thought with a nervous gulp, her top will have to be removed... 

Heat crept over your cheeks, but quickly you shook your head. This may be a dane, but she was a woman nonetheless. A woman exactly like you. There was nothing to be shy about, and it was confusing that you even were. With a deep breath you took the knife you brought, murmuring apologies to the unconscious heathen before cutting through her thick clothing.

Immediately, you realized she was certainly a woman…but her body was definitely not like yours.

If there was one word to describe it, it was hardened. Trained. Muscles rippled as she breathed, and tiny scars decorated her waist and chest. There was ink too, terrifyingly beautiful designs that made your heart hammer and nervously breathe out. You’d heard from rumors that the tattoos meant horrible things, like tallies of how many saxons they’d killed. What if I become one too? Again, panic seized your heart, and you found yourself trembling as you studied the wound she’d suffered.

Luckily, it was something treatable. With great care not to wake her (though you weren’t sure if it was out of fear or genuine concern) you patched her up, checking to see if there was anything else. There was a slash at her right leg, and you patched that one up as well, finally moving to clean the dirt from the rest of her body. Gently, you dragged a cloth across her chiseled face, marveling at her sharp jaw and long, pretty lashes. Perhaps she had looked intimidating before, but fast asleep she was clearly a thing of beauty. 

You liked her straight nose and her eyebrows that seemed to grimace even in her sleep. You wondered what she’d look like when she was wide awake and not glowering at you. You wondered if her voice really was that low–or if her long journey only to end up passing out in the river was the cause. You were curious, and before you knew it, you were hovering less than an inch above her face.

Lord above. You held back a squeak, scrambling back. That was rude! Impolite and…odd of you. Very odd. For a moment you tried to register why you’d done such a thing, but you came up with no answer. All you knew for certain was that you felt warm all over, tingly as you watched the woman’s chest rise and fall. Somehow, just watching her breath was mesmerizing. Was it the devil in her making you so curious? You didn’t know–but you did know that the reverend would be expecting you back soon.

In more of a frenzy than you’d like to admit, you gathered your things and left, cheeks aflame as you rushed to escape whatever trap satan intended to use the dane with.

_______

It took a week for her to wake again.

In those days, the routine was fairly simple. Every day you went out to fetch water you’d take the time for a detour. There you’d clean her wounds and redress her bandages, leave fresh water and stolen borrowed leftovers just in case she’d wake. For the past week, the food rotted, and dust settled over the water. Today was no different, at least, when you first entered the cave it wasn’t.

She was lying as she always did, and you moved quickly. You only had so much time before the reverend, or anyone else for that matter grew suspicious. Despite everyone needing you, they did little to respect you as a person, becoming more of a lapdog than anything. You set down the bucket of water with a huff, arching your back to crack it with a groan. Who knew being a nun would require so much labor? 

“It’s already been a week…maybe it’s exhaustion?” You murmured as you walked up to the sleeping dane, hovering a hand over her face. She was breathing, and her breaths were stronger than when she was usually asleep, though still steadily rhythmic. That was a good sign, right? You bit your bottom lip with worry, turning away. 

To transport her bandages and other medical supplies, you tied them with rope in pouches to the side of your thighs, keeping them hidden under your long robe. At first, you felt ridiculous walking with them like that, but now it was like second nature. With little thought you hiked up your dress, untying the pouches carefully. That was when you glanced in front of you at the food you’d left before. A useless endeavor, but still you couldn’t help but check with hope…

…and see that it was all completely eaten.

You froze. One of the pouches you’d tried to quietly remove slipped from your hand. Glass jars full of healing salve shattered from within. You didn’t care.

No–you were more concerned with the eyes drilling into the back of your neck, trailing down the base of your spine…and finally, resting on your legs exposed to the chilly autumn air. You didn’t know whether to run or scream. You didn’t know if either choice mattered.

“Lady.” Her gruff voice made you jump, and suddenly you could move again. You spun on your heel, you scrambled back–two horrid decisions to make at once. Your balance abandoned you, and suddenly coarse skin gripped your hand, yanking you forward. You stumbled, letting out a startled cry as you fell onto your hands rather than your back. 

You’d squeezed your eyes shut to brace for impact, but now as you tentatively fluttered them open, you didn’t recognize the bandages inches from your face. That is until they rocked up and down. An amused, albeit pained, voice rumbled from the depths of it.

“Lady, might you remove yourself from me?” Am I…staring at her chest? You moved faster than you ever had before, clambering off of the dane and then shuffling several feet back. She watched the entire display with a raised eyebrow, and her calmness in juxtaposition to your alarm only made you feel more embarrassed. You opened your mouth to speak, but the knot in your throat wouldn’t allow for more than another frightened noise. At that the heathen paused, shifting her gaze to think before focusing her gaze back on you.

“I…won’t hurt you. You saved my life, lady. It would have been easy to leave me there, or send out guards to end my suffering. Yet,” the dane waved her hand to the empty food and water, “you did all this instead. It would be foolish to repay my savior with violence, wouldn’t you think?” She was right, it would be foolish. However, you had been taught that danes were exactly that; tricked by the devil into wanting nothing but bloodshed. It would be foolish of you to immediately believe her words.

“T-thank you.” You tried to act as if you believed it, though from her frown she guessed you didn’t at all. You stayed frozen as she sighed, scratching the back of her head.

“I’m not saying that to be thanked. I’m just…telling you. Despite how you view me, you have helped me. For that I am grateful.” With that she attempted to rise, hissing out in pain. You gasped, stiffening with worry. She had just woken up or at least had in the last couple of hours. She had no business moving yet! Before you knew it you were on your feet, rushing over to stop her. 

“Wait! Please don’t move, your wounds are still healing and you’ve just woken up. You must rest.” Regardless of how badly you trembled, you still spoke as firmly as you could. “You can’t do any harsh manual labor–like traveling to God knows where–until it’s safe!” That surprised the dane, eyebrows high on her face and mouth slightly agape. Slowly, her lips curved into a smirk, and she nodded, lying back down.

“You fear me, yet you give me orders?” Your cheeks reddened, and her sly smile widened. “Alright then, little lady…for a few days, I’ll rest my body for you. Is that satisfying?” For you rang like a sweet mantra in your head, and at your awkward nod the dane chuckled. It was a pleasant sound, making you wring your hands together and swallow nervously. You would have said more, but suddenly you heard your name being harshly called out, making the both of you jump.

“I–I must go now. No one else…knows. I didn’t think they’d take kindly to the idea of treating you.” That made the heathen's eyes darken with understanding, and she nodded. 

“Go, the last thing I want is you to be punished for helping me.” Her voice had hardened just as it did the day you both met, though this time it didn’t scare you as much as before. It left you with a tight chest, and you didn’t trust your own voice to speak again properly. Quickly, you nodded, rushing out of the cave with warm skin and an ever growing heartbeat.

_______

Her name was Eivor, with some knowing her as Eivor the Wolf-kissed, you hoped it explained where the gaze came from. 

You had felt it the day she’d woken up, and you had dismissed it as a look a warrior would give to their enemy. Calculating and intense, dragging down your body before rising back up to your eyes–you assumed as a saxon, she’d immediately seen you as her enemy and had reacted as such.

Now, you had no explanation for the heat in her stares, and it was starting to plague you.

Her promise of only days turned into another week with your insistent begging, and in that time period it became clear that walking into the cave was like walking into a wolf’s den. Each day that her wounds healed she grew stronger and more…overwhelming. In her teasing voice by your ear as you dressed her wounds, and in how when she sat with you, it was as if she was caging you in. 

She spoke to you like a friend. An extremely caring one. She hated to see you exhausted after running around the abbey, angry they’d treat you more like a servant than an equal. Her hands would hold you close and urge you to rest in the safe embrace of her arms. It was nice, and you found yourself longing to go to the cave every day. However, you didn’t understand her actions. At first, you summed them up to culture, but her gaze told you otherwise.

There was something in those sapphire eyes, something enticingly dangerous, and it gleamed whenever your cheeks burned bright. It darkened when you bit your bottom lip with shyness, flickering over your heaving chest when her actions became too much for you to bear. Now, the tension in the air had shifted from one of fear to…curiosity. Need. But for what, you feared, would be your undoing.

“Little angel,” The raspy voice in your ear brought you out of your thoughts, “are you done?” You jumped, looking up to find Eivor’s face hovering above your own. It took everything in you not to marvel at it. She had a rough kind of beauty that made your insides squirm, and abruptly you looked down again.

“Yes! Right–apologies. I was lost in thought…” You finished fixing her bandages, fingers lingering over her toned abs. How are they so defined in the first place–large hands wrapped around your own, and with surprise you looked back up into Eivor’s concerned eyes.

“You’ve been odd lately. Listless. Is something bothering you?” You smiled softly. Despite her stern face, you’d soon learned that Eivor was incredibly soft. She was a warm soul, and from the stories she’d shared with you, someone who greatly cared about her family and friends. You shook your head.

“There’s nothing. Well, I don’t believe there is. I’m simply…confused, Eivor. May I ask,” you sucked in a fractured breath, unsure if you should continue. A calloused hand cupped your cheek, and unconsciously you shut your eyes to lean into the touch.

“What is it, love?” Again, she called you in a way that made your stomach burn and your heart swell. With a hushed whisper, you spoke your mind.

“Why do you…act this way with me? I do not understand. Is it custom for da–norse–to treat other women like…like…” You didn’t know how to say it, but Eivor didn’t need you to, humming softly.

“Like a husband would?” You breathed out in relief.

“Yes! Are norsewomen more intimate with one another than sax–” That made Eivor snort, sharply reigning in her laughter so only the corners of her lips twitched. However, at your puzzled stare she realized that hadn’t been some kind of joke, and her laughter completely left her. She opened her mouth, then closed it, and then eventually decided such innocence could only be met with a soft, but equal amount of bluntness.

“Little angel…I act this way because I have affection towards you. You are kind, albeit self-sacrificing.” What? You couldn’t believe the words she muttered, but her eyes held yours with such conviction that you knew it was true. You wanted to look away–her gaze was becoming more predacious with every second your cheeks burned brighter–yet you couldn’t, captivated as Eivor continued. “You shine like the sun, and I cannot help but think you are a gift from the gods…and in the future, if you would allow me, I would like to lie with you.” 

She would…what? That had been the source of her looks this entire time. It wasn’t as someone assessing an enemy, nor pure curiosity. It was…lust. She wanted you, in ways you were sure you couldn’t imagine, and when you expected the feeling of disgust to wash over you, something worse happened. 

All at once, it came barrelling over you. A tantalizing heat and debilitating fluster, aching across your skin as you struggled to say something, anything to discourage her words. The hand at your cheek was cruel. It burned like molten iron, doing nothing to help you think straight. Eivor wanted to lie with you, as a man would with a woman. To hold you in her arms, commit an act you had vowed under the eyes of God to abstain from–and while that should have made you wretch away from the woman, you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Rather, you felt your core burn. Shame bubbled up inside of you, but so did the desire. From the beginning, you had wanted something from this woman. Before, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Now the answer was clear as day, burning over your heart.

“If I were to,” you had to pause, words too much to ask all at once, “to lie with you, Eivor. What…” you took the chance to glance up at her. Her gaze was like a crackle of lightning. It took your breath away and made you twitch with wanting. You found it took an effort to finish your question.

“What…would you do?” That was a mistake. There was hope in your voice you accidentally let slip through, and Eivor caught onto it. Those shapely lips twisted. 

Once again, her sharp eyes dragged over you..but it was shameless this time. Devoid of the restraint and caution she’d had before. Now you shivered, because it was obvious now, painstakingly so, that from the moment Eivor met you, she’d wanted nothing more than to defile you.

_______

You were a mess, a whimpering, trembling mess, and Eivor wasn’t nearly done with you. She pulled away from between your breasts to catch her breath and admire her work. She’d left bite marks all over your chest, thighs, and waist, the indents of her teeth a pretty color across your tender skin. Your teary eyed, gasping face only spurred her on more, and she hummed as she leaned down to steal the heat from your lips, eliciting a moan from you.

Your precious gown, used to avert the eyes of men, was gone. Your veil was thrown away long ago. The autumn air bit at your skin, but regardless of the temperature around you, your body burned nonetheless. You felt one hand brush against your breast, sending a quivering through your spine as she rolled the bud between her fingers. Her other hand went further south, down to your unattended, dripping wetness.

She had been fiendish there before, suckling your thighs and kissing the skin between your legs and your heat, yet never there. No–not until you were gripping the hard muscles of her arms and practically begging, needy for relief. She might be one to tease, but Eivor wasn’t cruel–taking her fingers to grant you the pleasure you craved.

Her fingers brushed over your bud, and then she pressed down. It was gentle, yet firm, falling into a steady rhythm as she rubbed a tiny circle there. You gasped, nails digging into her arms. Soon you were overwhelmed with bliss, weak in the knees as your voice fell into sweet, keening sounds to her ears.  

“That’s it,” the blonde said, voice gruff as she watched you whine, “keep letting me hear that beautiful voice angel.”  Oh, did you obey that command, voice ringing out as if you’d become a bard just to sing of the pleasure she gave you. She pressed into your bundle of nerves more, never slowing down. You stammered, hands moving to cling to her back in desperation.

“I–I can’t…” Those sharp eyes were hazy now, glossed over as she took in your bruised lips and half-lidded eyes. Her hand circled your bud one last time before the pressure stopped, and immediately you let out a sound of dismay, trying to focus and ask why–but soon, you were given an answer.

“Oh–!” In one fluid motion, two thick fingers were plunged into your dewy folds, burying deep and making your back arch at the sudden fullness. Her fingers curled, and she took her time just as before, offering a steady, brutal rhythm. She wanted to leave you ruined, and it was working, bones turning to mush and overcome with sensual destruction.

Relentless, she pounded her fingers up to the knuckle. She knew what to do to leave you a puddle of fervent desire, skillful even as she grew more lustful herself. Watching you crumble from her digits stretching your heat was intoxicating, and you could see the carnal need in her eyes grow as she continued.  Her tongue raked over her canines as she thrust particularly deep. You whimpered, body shaking uncontrollably, and the sight made her want to taste you, now more than ever. Without warning, she swiftly moved.

“E-Eivor!” All you could manage was to say the norse’s name with a fractured, desperate moan, squirming against her firm hands. They gripped your thighs and held them in place as she went down on you, indulging herself with the slick folds before her. She dragged her tongue upward, and you choked–your oversensitivity to her every action making your legs grow weak. She chuckled at your disoriented pleasure, and the vibrations of her voice against your folds were torturous. Eivor knew that, and she didn’t hesitate to use it, not bothering to pull away as she moaned against your heat.  

You squirmed, bucking to push her tongue harder into you. She obliged, pressing deeper into your wetness and having her fill of your taste. Her nose routinely brushed against your bud, and it drove you wild, drowning in the sensations clawing at your core. 

“I-I need, Eivor please–” how did a single question come to this? Now you were shamelessly begging the norse before you to have her way with you–as if she wasn’t already–lips forming over your bud. Oh God. 

Your hands found their way into holding fistfuls of her blonde hair. She was calculated, devastating in her onslaught over your pearl. You were reduced to a bundle of mewls and hopeless clawing, throbbing against her tongue as she brought a mayhem of pleasure over you. It consumed you in a near terrifying way, eyes rolling as she continued to bring you to your peak.    

“I can’t, d-don’t stop…!” It was the only warning you could utter before you were mindless, toes curling and hips rocking wildly. You choked back a sob as she continued to suck on your pearl even as you rode out your peak, only letting up when you completely slumped over. She kissed your twitching folds and inner thigh before she rose, gathering you in her arms.

“Little angel,” her chest rumbled at your back, textured hands pulling you into her lap. “Are you alright?” You were more than alright, nodding into the crook of her neck.

“I am. That was…um…” Despite having done all that, in the heat of the afterglow you felt your embarrassment creep back in. Eivor laughed.

“Good?” At your nod, she smiled, fingers brushing against the back of your neck. “I’m glad, I wanted to make sure you were comfortable…but it was hard to control myself once I saw that face.” The way she complimented you with ease made your stomach twist with butterflies once again, and it must have been evident on your face. Softly, a hand held your jaw where she wanted it, and Eivor kissed you slowly and sensually, pulling away just enough to whisper against your lips.

“Come back with me. I have a settlement–Raventhorpe–and I would care for you there. You wouldn’t be pushed around again, and your kindness would be honored, not used.” It was nearly said in a plea, hesitant as if the woman wasn’t sure what your answer would be. But you knew it from the moment she’d begun, heartwarming with joy.

“Yes,” you nodded so quickly it elicited a laugh from Eivor, adoring your enthusiasm, “I would love to, Eivor. If it means being with you…” Your fingers intertwined with hers, and you smiled wide, sharing in Eivor’s own giddy smile back.

“I’d go anywhere.” 

[mystic-writes]

I hope this is the right place haha. Could you do a female Eivor and female reader. The reader goes on a raid but it doesn’t go a planned. Maybe captured and tortured (sounds rough I know. A damsel in distress situation) then Eivor comes and rescues her. Thank you!

Thank you so much for sending in a request! This is not only my first request, but also my first kidnapping (kinda) fic! I feel like I'm officially a fanfic writer now! Also, happy pride month everyone, happy indigenous history month to all the indigenous folks out there! As a side note, my requests are still open, so feel free to send them to my askbox everyone!

CW: water torture, knifes, blood, brief mention of hot metal torture situation (none of the above are in a lot of detail!), angst, fluffy ending

Possible spoilers (very vague mention of storyline related thing)!

It had been days, maybe even a week since you had been captured during a raid that had gone rather poorly. While you were striking down soldiers with your bow from a nice, high branch at the top of a tree, you were spotted and a group of soldiers came after you. You had no choice other than to jump down from your high vantage point, and in doing so you sprained your ankle. Because you were injured and unable to really run away, the group of soldiers eventually caught up to you. Since then, you’d remained in the cell you had been placed in that night, hands and feet chained, the metal beginning to cut into your flesh. You had been questioned a few times, usually regarding what Eivor knew about the Order. You never answered any of the questions they asked you, partly because you usually didn’t know what to tell them. Eivor told you very little about her work dismantling the Order of the Ancients because she didn’t want you to get involved with it somehow, which would greatly endanger your safety. When they didn’t get the answers they so desperately wanted, they would either pour buckets of freezing cold water over your head, or slowly drag a knife along your flesh in a spot of their choosing. Though the cuts were not deep, likely in order to keep you from bleeding out, they stung when the water was poured over you, and were quite painful. Not to mention that having water repeatedly poured over you left you almost permanently wet, or at the very least damp, leading you to not be able to produce any body heat.

Though the days of torture and going with little to no food or water passed on, you knew that Eivor would find you eventually. She loved you, and had promised that no matter what happened, she would always keep you safe. Though the raid had not gone as planned and you had been captured, you knew she would keep her word; she always did. You trusted your lover, and knew she would do whatever she had to in order to get you back.

At some point, you had either passed out or fallen asleep (you weren’t sure which), and now someone was shaking you awake rather violently. You opened your eyes, hoping that it was Eivor, but instead saw one of the soldiers who had captured you. You felt tears spring to your eyes as you were hauled off to another room, dreading what was to come, and not knowing how much more you could take.

As usual, you were placed in a chair, your wrists strapped to the arms of the chair, and your ankles to the legs. You knew what to expect at this point; question after question, and you giving them no answer, then either being cut or having freezing water poured over your head. However, you noticed today that there were no buckets of water in the room today, and that there was a brazier sitting next to you. You had an idea of where this was going, and you did not like it. Though you knew it was of no use, you began struggling against your restraints.

“Now, now, darling. There won’t be any escaping happening here,” one of the soldiers says, directly in front of your face. You take the opportunity presented to you, and spit at him. This gets you a slap in the face that leaves your skin tingling and your ears ringing. But, you don’t regret spitting at him; not at all.

“Well, now that the spitting is hopefully out of the way, time for some questions. You might want to cooperate today, love. We’ve got a new toy to try out on you and I don’t think you’ll like it very much,” he says, lighting the coals in the brazier sitting next to you. He then places a long, metal poker into the fire, and you watch as the metal turns bright red.

“Now, what do you know about the Order? Who is that heathen’s next target, huh?” he asks you. When you don’t answer he goes to grab the metal poker. He holds it just above the skin on your collarbone, and says “Are you sure you don’t want to ans-,” before getting cut off by a door slamming open, and a knife slitting his throat. As the body of the soldier is pushed to the side, you see the person wielding the knife, and it’s just who you had hoped it would be. Eivor drops the knife, now covered in the blood of one of the men who had taken you, and falls to her knees, begging to unfasten your restraints. You try to speak, to tell her how thankful you are, but she hushes you, telling you to save your strength. Once your restraints have been severed, she takes off her cloak and wraps it around you before picking you up. You’re grateful for the warmth of her large cloak, and even more grateful that you’ll soon be back in Ravensthorpe.

You begin to wake up and notice that you’re snuggled up in several soft furs, being held by who you can only assume is Eivor. The last thing you can remember before you passed out is the jostling from being on top of a horse, and Eivor holding you closely, whispering to you that you were safe. You open your eyes and see Eivor looking down at you. Once she realizes that you’re awake, she pulls you even closer to her, and whispers “I’m so sorry, my love. I have failed you.”

You reach up and wipe away a tear that has slipped from one of her eyes and say, “But, you haven’t! I’m back home thanks to you.” You wrap your arms around her middle and squeeze as tight as you possibly can, so happy to be back in the arms of the person that you love the most.

“I thought you would be safe if you were further away. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed that,” she says, her voice strained.

“Eivor, I’m usually fine. There was no way for either of us to know that someone would spot me. None of what has happened is your fault, nor do I blame you. I’m just glad to be back here, with you, in your arms,” you whisper to her, leaning up to kiss her cheek. You press your head to her chest, suddenly feeling tired again.

“Y/N, I would have done anything to get you back. Your safety will always be more important to me than anything else, and I love you more than words can say. Now rest my love, you have been through a lot,” she says before placing a kiss on top of your head.

You return her affections, and feel yourself begin to drift off. You’re comforted by the warmth and the safety of being in Eivor’s arms, and allow yourself to be lulled to sleep by the beating of her heart.

[felassanis]

I’m convinced there was meant to be a meaningful storyline between Hytham and Eivor...

(Spoilers ahead)

One that either got cut because of time or whatever. Or that it was meant to be inferred but they just didn’t do a very good job at it because there’s is some connotations to be made from their interactions and relationship which...aren’t acknowledged but the foundation IS THERE.

To start, it’s clear Eivor and Hytham are at odds with each other when they first meet in Norway as your first interaction - as in your first PROPER interaction - is him stating you should not have the Hidden Blade and Hytham getting pissy about Basim’s gifting it to her. 

Which, honestly given that Eivor is unaware of significance of the blade (and there is a whole ass meaning to it) his persistence with begging Basim to not go through with it is understandable. And it’s like Eivor adds salt to the wound when she wears it the wrong way round (according to this Era’s brotherhood) and states that the missing finger Basim and Hytham gave up willingly was a mistake, furthering Eivor’s ignorance. Which rightly annoys Hytham and is why despite Basim telling him to stop, he keeps arguing with Eivor.

Then, and this really wasn’t spoken about enough, is the whole Kjotve situation which was completely dropped and the characters don’t mention it. Or, they do but they don’t REACT to the fact that Hytham promised Eivor the opportunity to kills Kjotve THEN BLATANTLY goes against his promise and attacks Kjotve anyway. Putting Eivor’s honour at risk and promptly getting extremely injured.

(The scene was so badass btw right up until he got thrown but I digress)

Eivor should have been angry, I mean I WAS ANGRY and idk if anyone is aware but I adore Hytham with every fibre of my being but I completely understood that Eivor would be pissed about this yet it is sadly never brought up. Making us miss out on more interactions between the two.

However, apart from it being the set up to Hytham being apart of the Bureau system I think it was also there to set up the reconnection of these two characaters. Whatever Hytham’s motivations for going against his promise was isn’t important. But what is important is how it could have led up to the Leap of Faith scene.

Hytham teaching Eivor the leap of faith is a direct comparison to Basim giving her the hidden blade. These two things are staples of Assassins’s Creed, they are the two things that are iconic to the brotherhood. Basim gave her the hidden blade as an act of good faith and Hytham does the exact same thing here when he does the leap. And given how poorly he reacted to Eivor getting the blade I honestly think this was supposed to be Hytham’s way of not only apologising but also building the strong bond between him and Eivor. His shift in attitude was meant to represent not only his growth but the growth of his bond with Eivor; that this once protective assassin is willing to relay another one of his traditions onto her. In fact, Hytham being so protective of his traditions makes him teaching Eivor all the more meaningful!

It would have made the scene in the ‘after life’ more impactful because it’s HYTHAM who runs to Eivor and helps her up. And the words Eivor say to Hytham after the Order of Ancients is complete is really damn sweet and could have made her words all the more emotional if Ubisoft had gone through with adding more content between this ‘enemies’ to friends dynamic that I’m convinced they were attempting to set up.

[You bet your arse I’m writing up this missing story in my fic btw I will have it Ubi you can’t stop me]

[kassandras-one-braincell]

do you have any plans for future kass fics? i swear she gets no love from writers its so sad :(

Honey I know, it’s actually tragic how few Kassandra inserts exist. (And statistically very odd, considering Odyssey is older than Valhalla and how popular her tags are in comparison to, say, Eivor’s.)

I actually have published my future plans on a separate page, and there is a link in my blog description - I did try linking it on a post but tumblr mobile is horrendously programmed and seems to reject simple HTML - but I’ll list them all under the cut (because there is a lot) 💖

I would also just like to add, in spite of a couple messages as of late, that I still do not accept requests. I will, however, accept and respond to gay brainrot and ideas for AUs* (guidelines under cut).

Key: Knight November (♞) — NSFW (❀) — Angst (☂) — Multi-chaptered (❆) — AU (➵)

Kassandra:

Anthology of intimate moments with our beloved misthios, from the perspective of a reader who doesn’t want to fall for her…or at least, that’s what you tell yourself, if only to retain some sanity. (❀)

Pottery, featuring Kassandra’s big gay hands.

You’ve seen her kill before. She hasn’t been able to forget you, either. So when your paths collide once again on a passenger railway, she needs to find a way of keeping you quiet while she takes out her target. (❀➵)

Something involving motorcycle gangs and Kass with a dragon tattoo on her back. Details have yet to be figured out, I just need this, ok? (➵)

Eivor:

Strip-flyting. (❀)

“Feasting” on a longhouse table. (❀)

Eivor’s badly injured after a fight turned sour, stumbling through the seidr-ridden swamps of England, dizzy from blood-loss. That is, until she finds a clearing with flowers, vines and a lovely druidess willing to nurse her to health. Basically, romance but you’re a bog witch. (❀❆)

A wedding, the unity of two kingdoms, is a time for celebration. Your court is accommodating of the princess to-be-wed, but regards the captain of your ally’s guard with misogynistic disgust. A handsome poet, chivalrous as she is masculine and scarred, courting you with flowery words, gentle touches and suggestive promises that make your head spin. But your hopeless suitors do not take kindly to their new competition. (♞➵)

Soma:

A rare day of rest, eating berries and making love in a freshwater spring. (❀)

Spy!AU: you start working as an ethical hacker for an intelligence organisation, the most exciting break in your career. The only caveat? Your boss is stupidly attractive, caring and has a voice like butter. (❀➵)

Soma is doubting her leadership skills after executing Galinn. For once, it’s your turn to be the rock, to keep her spirit from breaking. (☂)

Bartender!AU: you and a couple of friends stumble across a quaint little gay bar radiating good vibes. It’s difficult to figure out what to drink when the charming butch bartender is eyeing you up like you’re a goddess incarnated. (➵)

The royal guard’s seedy captain is replaced upon the joining of two kingdoms. The replacement? A gallant woman with the heart of a bear, the charm of a siren’s song and looks that perpetually render you dishevelled. She never hesitates to annihilate the egos of men who utter disrespect towards women, thus earning the respect of all but one individual: her predecessor. You find yourself caught in his plan to dispose of her. (♞➵)

Abby:

Eugene’s weed den, but you and Abby are the ones who discover it. Canon divergent. You partake in the devil’s lettuce and wow, Abby’s so damn pretty. (❀)

Begging Abby to spend five more minutes cuddled up in bed.

University!AU: in which your girlfriend comes packing to a party, and one of the bathrooms in the house has pretty pink LEDs strung up over the mirror. You’re a simple femme with simple needs: to get railed in the cute ambient lighting, of course. (❀��)

You’re on patrol, it’s almost pitch black, you’ve been separated after a nasty fall through rotting floors and when you call out for Abby, you’re answered with silence. Your rifle has disappeared and your handgun has four bullets left. (☂)

*A note on AU ideas:

An idea is something like, taking previous examples, knight-princess or vampire, with a character if you so wish. More often than not, I’ll take inspiration from it and expand my ever-growing list of plans.

It is not a highly specific scenario involving a certain character - again, using previous asks for argument’s sake, “can u pls write lemon eivor x reader x soma” or “can you write kassandra and she saves your life and gets really scared and shows how much she loves you by... (honestly I stopped reading here)”

Ultimately, I value my creative freedom, and I don’t enjoy writing when that freedom is restricted. AUs give me room to think and enjoy the creative process, but requests just sap the joy from the craft, at least for me.

[scoops-stevie-archive]

a new fic idea i though of at work:

eivor is critically sick/injured, valka can't heal him, and tarben is desperate

[reiverreturns]

Birna + Rollo for the character asks

First impression

Birna

High key loved her from the moment I met her. Something about Birna’s voice actor and that way her voice lilts just grabbed me and never let go (and here I am, still fawing over her +6 months after I finished the game)

Rollo

oh man WHAT A FIRST IMPRESSION. The way Eivor met Rollo was just iconic. His was probably one of the only character introductions that I know I’m going to remember for a long time.

Impression now

Birna

Birna is out and out one of my favourite characters in the whole game, maybe one of my favourites in the entire series.

The thing that I find most compelling about Birna is the way she approaches life. She’s chipper and upbeat and always sees the bright side, but it isn’t because that’s just the way she is. She’s had a hard life, sometimes lonely and painful. She’s also very clever (Soma calls her a brilliant strategist, and some of her longship stories describe how she uses people’s misconceptions of her to her advantage). A lot of people in her position with her faculties would turn to cynicism. But Birna rejects that. Instead she prioritises friendships, love, and fun above all else.

And it’s that conscious choice to pursue goodness that I find so interesting. It’s not easy – it sometimes requires sacrifice and making difficult decisions (like leaving Soma) but Birna ultimately knows that it’s worth it because only she can affect the happiness in her own life, you know? Basically, I think Birna already knows what Eivor takes an entire goddamn game to figure out at we love her for that.

Rollo

If I had to sum up Rollo in one word in the Valhalla universe it would be ‘potential’ (and, I gotta admit, potential slightly wasted in the context of the canon story.) I really love his character because he joins the crew at an oddly vulnerable moment, where he’s tasted the highs of power and leadership but kind of cocks it up by his own carelessness. And yet, you can still see those little flecks of the man he’s going to become when he tells his stories on the longship.

I particularly find the parallels between Eivor and Rollo interesting, even if they were never really expanded upon (both had family murdered by Kjotve, both were kind of removed from his threat but vowed to return and kill him to restore honour, so on.) Maybe Rollo acts as a little bit of a foil to Eivor? Like, had she given in to Odin’s influence more fully when she was younger, she might have ended up like him – hurting people and causing unnecessary deaths because of her own folly.

He’s such an interesting character, I just wish we had gotten a mission just more focussed on him (as we did with Birna in Soma’s arc.)

Favorite moment

Birna

Oh god there are so many. I adore every single one of Birna’s longship stories (I especially love when she doesn’t name names but calls out two of the crew for drunkenly pissing on the boat bc it’s just not a cool things to do) but if I had to choose a moment from the Grantebridge arc I’d probably go for when Galinn kills the Saxon prisoner claiming he was going to curse them and Birna replies “Christians don’t curse” in the most deadpan way possible. There’s something about the delivery that makes me laugh every time I see it. I’m also convinced that Birna realises Galinn is the traitor in that moment. If she wasn’t a suspect herself I swear that whole arc would have been finished in half the time.

Rollo

During the first meeting with Eivor at the brothel, when Eivor tells him she’s here to collect him and he just asks “can it wait?!” Like no shits given about what she could be here for, what Estrid wants, if there’s danger. Totally confident in his ability and only concerned with getting his dick wet in a reasonable timescale. Atta boy.

Idea for a story

I don’t actually have any specific story ideas for these two independently but I think it would be a lot of fun to write a bunch of ficlets about their life in Ravensthorpe and how their personal relationships develop.

I also pine for an angst fic with Birna coming to terms with Soma’s death but I am not the one who’s going to write it so I’m kind of at peace with the possibility of never reading it lol.

Unpopular opinion

I don’t think anyone in this fandom clowns about these two enough for me to validate if my opinions are unpopular lol. If I have to pick something, it would be that both of these characters would be underutilised just being raiders in the Raven Clan. I couldn’t see them staying with Eivor for very long unless they had greater roles in the Clan (I know Rollo eventually will go off to get a slice on Francia but y’know, still stands.)

Favorite relationship

Birna

In game – Birna x Soma. I’m a sucker for unrequited love at the best of times but Birna speaks with such affection about “my Soma” it melts my freaking heart.

Romantically – Birna x Randvi. I love the vibes, the idea, the concept, the chemistry. Forever hoping someone starts churning content for this rarepair because I’d inhale it faster than Kirby.

Platonically – Birna & Rollo. Ya’ll know this.

Rollo

In game – Rollo x Estrid. If you choose the wrong traitor in Rollo’s crew Estrid gets injured in the subsequent ambush and it’s v. cute to see Rollo helping her. Plus the way he speaks about what he’s learned about himself and his standards for women from being with her on the longship is just so good. Hell yeah Estrid you set those high standards for our boy.

Romantically – I don’t really ship Rollo with anyone romantically. I did joke about Swanburrow in a post ages ago but that could work – I feel he’d need a stern hand to tame him lol. But nah let Rollo go sow his wild oats in Francia, he deserves it.

Platonically – Rollo & Birna, because reasons.

Favorite headcanon

Birna

Oh I’ve posted this before but just that Birna is constantly playing small innocuous pranks all around Ravensthorpe and driving people half mad. I feel Hunwald would have gotten it bad when he was around. Rowan too. Basically any men who show a hint of uncertainty in Birna’s presence lol.

Rollo

Rollo was always kind a small as a child and into his early teenage years, he didn’t grow and catch up to his peers until quite a bit after. So because of that (and being teased about it), he has a liiiiiiittle bit of small man syndrome. Just a smidge.

ty for the ask! Send me a character

[floralpunkbarton]

i am making mysELF SAD TONIGHT FOLKS

[floralpunkbarton]

clean up is HAPPENING and continuation will be ATTEMPTED we are so back baby

[floralpunkbarton]

reading over the most recent bits added to the injured eivor fic and wildly flinging myself between "keep writing more" and "go fix the first 2-3k or so" and "actually it's all bad never write again let it rot in your drive"

[floralpunkbarton]

canon divergence has me inventing friendships that have never been conceived of before, even by me until i'm in the middle of writing the dialogue

[floralpunkbarton]

thought i was approaching something of an ending with the injured eivor fic but then went and made lunchdinner and had a thought that set me firmly in "what if we were really mean to eivor in the middle" territory

[floralpunkbarton]

the fun thing about playing valhalla for the third time is having to pause and sit with your thoughts for a while over the exchange of eivor asking what sigurd is going to keep in the room in the longhouse and sigurd saying "my finest weapon" meaning. eivor.

[floralpunkbarton]

things i truly did not expect but absolutely should have: a year+ of reading A Lot of non-fiction has definitely changed my writing style