#thorfinn karlsefni x reader

[shinjisdone]

𝑇𝜎 𝑆𝜎𝑓𝜏𝜀𝜋 𝛼 𝑊𝛼𝑟𝑟𝜄𝜎𝑟’𝑠 𝐻𝜀𝛼𝑟𝜏 (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn - 𝑺𝒍𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝑨𝒓𝒄, 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟏)

In which you have joined Askeladd’s band…and grow closer to the Son of Thors - though as your future seemed promising, his thirst for revenge devastated all that you had left.

[Headcanons of how it would be like to meet Thorfinn again after he shattered your heart (based on season 2; both platonic and romantic)

Sᴇᴀsᴏɴ ₁ ﹙Wᴀʀ Aʀᴄ﹚ is here

Part 2: - (Thorfinn trying to accept your existence as a slave)

Part 3: - (Thorfinn finding a reason to live, you finally see him)

Tag list:

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets , @lana-del-stan , @theghostofanficpresent

[Mentions of murder, death, war, slave trade, harrasment against women and whatever awful things happened in the viking era. Slavery will be a main subject throughout the entire arc. Mostly gender-neutral examples but female-leaning ones are there, too.]

[This part will specifically mention: Nightmares, detailed gore and killing, slavery, humiliation, hallucinations, slight romanticization of death/wishing someone to be dead, slight panic]

Time And Time Again, My Hopes Are Gone...

Far west, across the sea is a land. Rich of fertile ground and warm all year round. He can see the stillness of the meadow as the wind softly blows through the trees.

The wilderness is untouched. Far away from slave traders and the flames of war. The sun is benign with its rays that gently fall on his skin. It's warm and quiet. A gale so soft it embraces his throbbing pain.

Far to the west, across the rich and green hill, is a figure drawing closer. Colors clashing with the soft sky and land, washed out compared to the world around him. Nevertheless, he feels his heart picking up on speed and appraoches the figure with painstakingly slow steps.

The colors and the gear are still the same. Old and bented, abused and dull and so was the glare in their eyes. He should not feel a thing here, knowing this gaze all too well, but it still festered fear inside his heart when it is directed at him. The clear blue sky grows red and the sun fled.

Still, somehow he was able to crack a strained, faltering smile. "...What are you doing here?" He needed to take a deep breath, "You still look the same...like yesterd-"

"What the hell are you talking about, dog?"

The feigning smile was wiped off his face in an instant as his eyes widened. He could feel his muscles aching again, his stomach grumbling, his heart shattering.

You looked at him with such distain in your eyes.

It's Like A Never-Ending Marathon...

"How can you even act like this? Does all of this mean nothing to you?"

His breath hitched in his throat, burning hot and sickening as the quietness of the world was cut down by the incoming roars emerging from the scenery behind you. Pumping up their spears and axes, they tainted the meadow red as small figures galloped across the sky. The fires were following closely after them.

"You left...left me, and left this massacre behind you as you trailed over the sea."

Chants of victories rung in his ears as the flames consumed the both of you. The herd of men loud and clear but always seemed too far to touch and reach. There you still stood, your glare as dark as thunder and never-changing.

"Coward. Deranged mutt. Calling yourself a warrior."

Jaw agape, he watched with white, bulging eyes the scene behind you. It was all too familiar that it should have kick in an instinct - but all he could feel was terror.

With a swift pull to your back, you drew the blade out before plunging it with a sprint down to his abdomen. He barely could let out a scream. Instead, wide agape, he looked down with darting eyes to see his father's dagger.

A crooked grin decorated your visage as you twisted the dagger, cut further, deeper horizontally before yanking it out. Blood tainted your skin.

He could feel himself fall. Fall longer, deeper, faster, down, down, down, and down before a scream pulled him out.

I Hear Voices Every Night Of The Ones I Left Behind...

The same quietness he dreamed about surrounds him in the hut. No, a barn it was. It didn't have a door and he constantly reeked of hay and manure.

Right - this was the barn on the farm.

Sluggishly, he got up as pieces of hay fell off his worn out tunic. With a slow and steady gate his legs carried him to the well standing still and cold in the early morning, the sun having risen just a moment ago as well. He reached out with rough and calloused hands to the cold water and splashed it on his face. Always three times at least as the master told him. With each splash, his mind and vision got clearer and finally, he breathed freely.

What a strange nightmare. This hollow feeling expanding in his heart remained even in the waking world but he cannot recall from what.

As the sun rose higher, he made his way over the dirty, sandy road. Not a lot of the others were up and about as he was, though he only paid attention to the forest further away. The tired mutters of greetings flew over him, like a leaf in the cold wind. All he needed was the axe.

The axe cuts. It hits the sturdy trunk, chopping it away bit by bit, splinters of wood occasionally digging into his skin. Though it was as thick as the trees themselves, so no one ever heard a complaint from him.

The axe cuts. No tree shrieks in pain nor does anyone raise a brow at the lone man in the forest letting one tree fall after another. It keeps him awake and his muscles at work.

The axe cuts. The trees die and fall like flies, slowly - as it is with tree felling, he was told - down to every last twig and root it bears. Nothing can be left behind as the master wished it. All needs to be cleaned off the land so he can use it. So he cut and cut and cut.

"Thorfinn!"

Thorfinn halted. Stopped in his tracks as he was told and looked up through lidded, droopy, brown eyes. In the distance he saw a hand waving as the master galloped closer and with him, a younger slave.

Getting off the mount, he steadied his fall. Master Ketil was an older and seasoned farmer. His blonde hair growing thinner, broad but kind face decorated with wrinkles and his wealth showing in his round stomach. Once again, as he often does, he approached Thorfinn with a smile. "You will be getting a friend." Then he pointed behind him and the youngling followed hastily to bow. "This is Einar and he will be helping you starting tomorrow to fell the trees and turn it into fertile farm land. Einar, Thorfinn has been doing this for a bit longer than a year, he will show you around."

Brown eyes followed the man's gesture and fell on the younger one with kempt, auburn hair. Face young and with no stubbles, a small wart at the side of his nose - finished with an nervous and perplexed expression.

His own looked deep into the one of his new companion and found nothing but vapidness in them.

"Oh, uhm...it's nice to meet you." Einar tried to crack a smile. Thorfinn did not.

With a small chuckle of his own, Ketil pointed towards the small forest, talking of an subject Thorfinn had heard of time and time again.

Talks of fertile land, of wheat, of buying and selling, surpassing ones own price and freedom.

Freedom.

Did he have any of that ever in the first place? He doubted it.

But the new guy had a different opinion of it.

"Buying ourselves back?!" Einar stuttered, not believing what the farmer had just uttered, "We can get our freedom back if we just plant and sell the wheat to you?!"

Ketil jumped and blinked in surprise. "Why...yes. Does that not sound like a good deal to you?" "It's not that! N-Not at all! Thank you, thank you so much! I'll gratefully take the offer!"

Without another word, Einar sprinted deeper into the forest. Sighing heavily, Ketil settled back on his mount, ready to go back. "Do show him around for today Thorfinn and don't have him slack off after that. Both of you have a lot of work to do."

The blonde looked back at him with lidded eyes.

"Yes, master."

Dragging himself after the brunette, the young man watched him observe the area in awe. Trees loomed over the two and Einar swiftly turned back to the shorter man, his jaw agape.

"Thorfinn, was it?! Is that something you can do here in Denmark?! You - You can buy yourself out of slavery?!"

That I Love...

In the midmorning, Einar couldn't sit still.

Strenuously, he mimicked Thorfinn's day-to-day work. Inspecting each tree and root, yanking on them with his bare hands in hopes it might detach just a bit, and throwing questions.

Thorfinn found his keenness perplexing.

At noon, Einar awaited food.

Hearing about the service of the helpers, paid guests helping and guarding Ketil's farm, he grew ever so keen again. The helpers were not the kindest folk and seemingly the most hungry as well.

"What is there to complain?" One sneered as he appraoched Einar. The latter showed the crumbles and nibbled cheese in his rough hands instead. "This, this is our food? How is this supposed to be enough for two people? And it was obviously gnawed on!"

"So?" The second man of the trio sauntered closer with a wide grin. "Slaves like you should be grateful you can even eat a day. For someone so small and little, you sure talk big. We helpers wake up each and every day to bring food to lowly rats like you! And none of you even have the brains on how to thank someone for it!"

With a shaking gasp, Einar stepped back. The mere tone. The way the spit splashed on his face as he talks with that knowing glint in his dull eyes.

How could someone be like that? Just a year ago, he was surrounded by normal people, a village and family.

Once again, the helper spits as he scoffed. "Say it, dog," The grin grew ever so crooked as Einar's shock quickly transformed into rage. "Say 'thank you for the food'."

Breath hitched as the brunette took everything within him not to batter the man here and there. Balling a fist, he pulled back - before a smaller figure squeezed himself between the men and held out the crumbs of bread in his hands.

Thorfinn avoided the helper's gaze and looked down, as if giving a woeful prayer. "We thank you for the food."

Einar observed the tension dissolving, face that of an fish out of water, as Thorfinn returned to his work as if nothing happened.

In the afternoon, Einar hauled a sack of hay on his shoulder, heart feeling disarrayed.

Up ahead he followed Thorfinn who carried two sacks on his shoulders. He wondered how he does it despite his shorter and hunched form.

In fact, the blonde always seemed to hunch so far. He wondered how he does the entire labourous work in the first place.

"...How can you do all of this so easily? And with an empty stomach, too, day in and out. Chopping off the trees and then hauling them off the ground...like that old donkey was of any help." He pouted at the memory of the helpers bringing in an old, weak horse as 'aid' while they snoozed under the trees, "And you were so obedient to these jerks, too."

The walk continued to be quiet. The brunette continued to pout, making an even longer face at the one-sided conversation.

"You know, you can report that to the master! No, we should, have to do that! We are his property and these jerks treated us like were are lesser than that! He should know how his slaves are being treated and get rid of these pigs!"

The walk was silent after that as well. Thorfinn did not turn his back away neither show any sign of taking in his words. Einar only pouted even more and bit his tongue - momentarily.

"You're really strange."

As if struck by lightning, the blonde stopped. A force jolted through his muscles and bones that almost threatened to have him let go of the hay. The same force took a hold of his heart, like a fist squeezing it so tight with the intent to kill him. It won't let go.

Calming down from the start, Einar sped up in front of him with raised brows. The blonde's face was frozen in fear.

"...Thorfinn...?"

"What did you just say?"

"Uh," Quickly, he stepped back. Even the way Thorfinn managed to utter the question, jaw agape and frozen as well, perplexed him. "I said you're strange. Like, it's not like I dislike you it's just…just that I thought we could talk more. You're so quiet all the time but then get so obedient around these jerks but then act like you don't care-"

Agonizingly slow does he regain his body. With each word Einar spoke, Thorfinn nodded along, listened and had it ring in his head like a chant. Just as slow, he began walking again. "...I really am, aren't I?" He muttered after taking a deep breath.

"Eh, uhm, what?"

"Strange..."

I'm Trying To Find The Place Where I Belong...

Thorfinn was allowed to call it a day early for teaching Einar.

Today's chores were almost completed anyway with how tenacious his new companion had been. It was an insistence he could not comprehend.

The brunette did not expect much when Thorfinn showed him the way to the small barn, pointing to the heaps of hay and buckets at the corners. The master's house was across the road at least and the well free for him to use.

Einar also expected not much from his peer, as he had learned today when he quickly dozed off. He believed him to be anyway, when he stayed silent through all his questions.

Einar was strange...but the blonde reckoned he was, too.

That night, his visions turned into nightmares once again - but only to be left forgotten again in the morning.

A dark blue sea and an equally dark sky above. The wrath of the gods over the clouds and a hoard of monsters waging further away. He found himself lucky he wasn't so close.

But that relief was cut short by the freezing pain in his abdomen, as he looked down at you, teeth gritting like a beast. When did he grow taller than you?

He always thought you were the same height. Or were you the taller one?

With a growl, you swayed back with the dagger out of his flesh and thrusted it into it again. Labored breaths tried to escaped your gritted teeth, nosetrils flaring up as you only scolwed at him. With great effort and little strength, you drew the blade back and stabbed him again.

"Liar..." You croaked out, the smallest of hints of tears in your eyes, "This isn't where we're supposed to be. You liar..." Another sob and another attack. Blood oozed out of his open stomach like a broken spring and while the pain was unbearable, Thorfinn remained standing.

"You were supposed to take me somewhere that isn't here!"

He watched with terror as you drowned in his blood.

Einar shot up at the ear-splitting shriek. He wondered how none of the master's family had heard.

All he vividly remembered on his first night on the farm as a slave, was Thorfinn feeling up his abdomen in a mad frenzy, his eyes wide and jaw agape in a silent scream.

Until I Do, I Guess I'll Carry On...

The sun rises and the reek of manure still dwells in his nose. Einar was not dreaming of the farm.

But as he followed Thorfinn's demure figure, anxiously keeping up with his chores and strength, he cannot keep his eyes off of him. Of this strange guy and his hushed whispers in the night.

Again, he observed and stayed back this time as the blonde accepted the spit thrown on his face and food. The amount of labor he carries on his broken back with an lost look in his eyes.

So small and dry, brown so hazy and milky, he wonders if he can even see.

Einar stays back and listens as the master and his employers give him more work, more duties, more praises, more insults. He takes it all the same.

Then, at the setting of the sun, the young man still stays back and watches with the rest of the slaves nearby as Thorfinn dropped all he had carried diligently to the master, and sprinted to a small person further away.

His heart beat in his ears, ringing against his skull and Einar found himself surprised as he prayed that Thorfinn would not get in trouble for whatever he was doing there.

Not getting in trouble for the calloused hand that reached out for that person's shoulder, how they yelped out and whipped their head around at the contact with the man.

How they watched as Thorfinn's hopeful face slowly dimmed to shock - then reverted back to his nonchalant ignorance.

What a fool he was. No, it couldn't be. The words he heard, they weren't yours. This little slave, just a terrified child, may have talked like you - walked like you, had a stature like you, looked like you - but in their place, you wouldn't have frozen on the spot. You would have killed him, or he you, when you gazed upon him as you did time and time again.

Without another word, he let his hand fall to his side and dismissed Einar's concerns. The brunette apologized for Thorfinn's stead but the man was already on his way to the barn.

He didn't even know what he was thinking. How his mind could see a silhouette that could resemble you, mistake you, and start running after you. Thorfinn didn't know what he was doing.

The master was already used to his behaviour. Perhaps that's why he wanted to get rid of him while still gaining a bit of gold.

Another night. Another new slave - a young, blonde woman - another curse from Einar about wars and beasts and another nightmare. It's what Thorfinn finally reckoned them as.

Trapped In Every Sacrifice,

Feel Like I'm Gonna Lose My Mind...

The demons that haunt him as he stabs them down for the earth to swallow. Your bloodied body holding a blade. The insults and spits thrown at him, his insides falling down into the sea. Your flailing arms as you cry for his help as the ground splits in two.

In the dead of the night, he checks for his companion, still seeing him to be asleep. Limply, Thorfinn forced himself to sit up.

The stars were as bright as ever. They were when you two were together but in the past year, the nightsky seemed different. Under it, all alone, he mumbled your name under his breath to remember you by.

That's right, he did not even have anything to remember you by, did he? Not a weapon, not a trinket, nothing. All that was left of you were the nightmares haunting his mind.

He hoped it was even less. In this cool, dark night, Thorfinn hoped you were dead. All would be easier for you to bear if just bones remained of you - and it would be easier to bear for him on his heart and mind.

You'd be free.

No Freedom, Without Love...

Scorching was the sun that morning as Ketil appraoched Thorfinn and Einar on his horse once again. Pater accompanied him with another in tow. Shackles of splinted wood around their swollen wrists. Their head hanging low.

"Thorfinn, Einar!" Ketil called out and began his usual prattling. His face bore that same, kind smile even when his words fell on some deaf ears. All Thorfinn could really focus on were lidded eyes slowly moving from the dirtied path up to him. Eyes that were drooped, limp, cold and familiar.

A shaky gasp. Air that got stuck in their lungs. Ketil halted in surprise as they stepped closer in hesitation, their bound hands rising and Pater yelling out about authority and respect of a property to follow.

All Thorfinn could hear were their breathless gasps, the darting eyes, hollow and in tears as their chafed hands gingerly cradled his face - as if unsure if he was really there.

Then, the shock turned into sorrow and anger.

"...You were supposed to be in Iceland..."

Pater yanked them away from him, the familiar warmth gone as they disorientate. Thorfinn could barely breath.

[jeweldagger]

the sounds of swords clashing and houses breaking was loud, pained shouts of the villagers flooding your senses.

away from all the chaos, thorfinn had you up against a tree, his hands placed on your hips as he held your ass up, his dick plunging so deliciously into your cunt. eacb thrust came with a wet sound, your pretty pussy dripping all over his dick, along with his heavy balls.

your moans were so loud, so frantic, that maybe even the terrified and dying villagers could hear.

“shut up,” thorfinn would huff, a hand reluctantly leaving your hip, creeping to the nape of your neck, then moving to the front where he squeezed for a moment. “wouldn’t want your daddy askeladd to head, would you?”

you couldn’t help the loud moan that escaped your lips, his dirty words and harsh thrusts were really getting to you. his calloused hand squeezed harder, almost cutting off your breathing. you choked out a moan, a coil begging to furl in your gut.

each of thorfinn’s thrusts was hard, pushing you into the tree. your cheek was rubbing uncomfortably against the bark, a rash would definitely show up later… however, the only thing on your mind was the way he fucked up so nicely into your sweet spot.

the til of his cock was just about to hit your cervix, and you swore you were about to cum that very second, until you heard your father’s voice.

askeladd was shouting at the other viking, commanding them to look for you, his daughter. and you knew you were fucked then…

thorfinn paid no mind, taking that as a sign to fuck you even harder. his thrusts began to grow harder, his hands grabbing onto your hips with a bruising grip. a fire lit in his abdomen, a grunt escaping his lips. he was close.

with a few more thrusts, you came over his cock, the liquid spilling from your little hole. thorfinn continued to fuck you, chasing his high as he revelled in your cute moans.

with a few more harsh thrusts, thorfinn shot his load deep into your pussy, his hot, thick cum reaching a depth you didn’t know existed. a soft whimper left his lips as his hand left your hips, fingers plunging into your tiny little hole.

“don’t waste any of my cum.” he’d growl into your ear, eyes darting towards the approaching vikings.

before you could voice a protest, your clothes were already pulled back on, along with thorfinn’s, the scene completely hidden as if thorfinn wasn’t fucking his cum back into you with his thick fingers.

“is everything alright, y/n?” your father’s voice was loud, his eyes narrowing as they landed on thorfinn. why was that brat so close to his daughter?

[mr-yuugo]

Sight

[Thorfinn X F!Reader]

Words: 938

Summary: Thorfinn finds out the reader is indeed a girl. While doing so he ends up witnessing a pleasant sight.

You didn't know how and why you ended up this way. Well, you did, though you believed it was Thorfinn's fault as he was the one that started it.

Currently, you were above him, his eyes focused on you. His chest rose and fell quickly, any slight movement of yours made him exhale sharply. His eyes do not dare to look down any further.

The water droplets that fell from your hair landed on him, He didn't mind the action and began to look away as seeing you this way began to be too much for him. Forcefully, you put your hands on his face making him face you.

"Why are you looking away now, Thorfinn? I swear, your eyes were all over me earlier. Is it because I caught you that you are embarrassed? You thought I would let it slide huh?"

He didn't say anything to your comment. Oh, how he wanted to push you away, but he simply couldn't, not that he really wanted to anyways.

He remembered how you had walked away earlier to who knows where. He had become bored as he was guarding the ships alone as the others left for a village nearby. He had made a split decision to go look for you, getting up from his seat he began to look for you.

He remembered how you wanted to go have a bath when you could, earlier when scouting the area, you two had found a stream. Going over to where the stream was, he assumed you would be there. As he got closer, he began to hesitate, he had his theories.

In all honesty, you looked like a girl. What if his thoughts were correct and you were? He told himself he wouldn't care; he didn't feel any attraction towards you. Well, that's what he would like to tell himself.

You were....different? There were certain times when he believed you were a girl. At times you acted like one, not to forget that one time you screamed at some random bug. Pushing those thoughts aside he made it, the only thing covering his vision were a few trees and bushes.

Peaking his head through a bush his eyes wandered throughout the area as his eyes finally landed on you. His eyes widened; his palms sweaty as his thoughts had become reality.

There you were your body wet from the water as you slicked your hair back away from your face. Thorfinn thought his eyes would have popped out of his sockets if he hadn't looked away. His face flushed as he looked away. Slowly his eyes trailed back to your body, he saw every curve and scar that littered your body.

His breathing became irregular as his mind wandered. He thought of how soft you would be, would you be mad if you found him staring?

He saw how any slight movement made your breasts move. He looked away, only to look at you again. He just couldn't tear his eyes off of you, he knew you were beautiful even before now. His newfound discovery only encouraged his heart to fall for you.

His mind was so far gone; he hadn't realized you had finished your bath. You began to dry yourself, looking up you realized someone was staring at you.

Thorfinn snapping out of it quickly ducked out of your vision lane. Cursing at himself for being such an idiot. He wondered if you had seen him.

"Who is there? I'll beat the shit out of you if you don't show yourself." You threatened

Covering yourself with the thin towel, you prepared yourself for any upcoming attack. Noticing slight movement from the bush in front of you. You quietly made your way towards it.

Thorfinn on the other hand began to choke on his spit as he began to sweat in nervousness. "Shit," He thought

Quickly he began to crawl away, making a note to not make too much noise. Unfortunately, he hadn't gotten far when he felt a foot press down on his back.

"Ha! Didn't expect to find you, Thorfinn."

You had managed to turn him on his back, straddling him so he wouldn't move. He tried to push you off, but you grabbed his hands and put them above him. Your still-wet hair dripped water onto him.

You noticed how he began to look away, making him face you, you spoke.

"Why are you looking away now, Thorfinn? I swear, your eyes were all over me earlier. Is it because I caught you that you are embarrassed? You thought I would let it slide huh?"

"....."

"Fine don't speak." Moving into a slightly more comfortable position, you noticed how his blush spread. "Hm? Does the sick pervert like this?" Moving again he groaned

"Get off me you bitch." He growled

"Really? You aren't even making an effort to move me off of you anymore. Admit it, you're enjoying this."

"Tsk, I told you to get off of me." Using his strength, he pushed you onto your back. As a result, he was now on top.

Realizing your current position, he closed his eyes as he let the moment sink in. His face showed how flustered he was. His body had moved on its own, grabbing your chin roughly he had smashed your lips with his.

His heart sped up as he felt you kiss him back, groaning into your mouth he began to whine as he couldn't get enough of you. As you opened your mouth, he pushed his tongue in. Savoring every inch of you he soon pulled away as he ran out of breath.

[yandereunsolved]

☾ Yandere Thorfinn ☾

"Hmm. There is nowhere you can hide among all of these lands where I won't find you. For even the gods would fear my wrath if they took you from my arms."

[4seasonsofart]

A reader insert who is the Prince(ss) of England and ends up a war prisoner during the war arc with Thorfinn and Canute at your side. The entire band is just awestruck at the fact that they managed to capture an English royal, and many boast about it. You know the lewd things they say about you; they are nothing but savages who happen to align with the enemy of your own country.

Ragnar is treating you with respect, as even as a political prisoner, he believes you have some rights. Canute is hiding behind Ragnar and anxiously—just barely—looking at you at the beginning of your trip together. Thorfinn just rolls his eyes and complains about having to look after another spoiled brat.

"Do you even speak any Norse?" Thorfinn inquires in a haughty tone as he rolls his hazel irises and lists profanities under his wretched breath.

He was slightly surprised to learn that you do indeed speak some Norse. He doesn't show it, as he just waves you off and smirks at the fact that this stuck-up royal could speak some Norse. He constantly says things in Norse that you don't understand, and he'll speak quickly on purpose just to make it hard for you to interpret his words. He gets irritated when you start speaking in English, as he doesn't understand what you are saying. You rarely speak, but when you speak in English, you do it to Askeladd. He hates that with a burning passion. What are you two even talking about? Him???

As the trip progresses and Canute becomes bolder and wiser, he begins trying to subtly manipulate you. If you are more fem-aligned, then he tries to get you to fall in love with him, and if you are more masc-aligned, then he tries to make you his ally. He tries to be subtle about flirting, although it comes off as more of an awkward teenage interaction.

"I know we are born enemies, made lovers."

Askeladd is trying not to laugh as he already had to deal with trying to teach Thorfinn to flirt. If you know... you know...

Thorfinn just grumbles and reluctantly learns to enjoy more of your presence.

You are worried about your fate as a political prisoner and are therefore very closed off. Which makes it hard for Canute to connect with you and try to manipulate you into betraying your own country and joining him. Of course, Askeladd helps the young prince in this endeavor, as he has become his new retainer at this point.

So as the trip progresses, Thorfinn protects you, and Canute tries to manipulate you. Your fate and what will happen when you meet the Danish king are still unknown.

[almost-blondee]

The Truth

Thorfinn x reader

Takes place on Ketil’s farm

SFW, Fluff, One kiss, suggestive comments

word count: 1.6k

Hopefully Thorfinn isn’t to out of character, it’s a little tricky writing for him. But i honestly enjoy it. Please try to ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes, i tried my best to find all of them. Enjoy!

————————————

Loving Thorfinn was great, he was a gentle, kind man. He is very admirable. However, he is very dense. No matter how many hints you drop, or Einar drops. He doesn’t catch on. I mean if you really think about it, it makes a lot of sense. All he knew was violence for the majority of his life. He may not know what it feels like to be loved, romantically.

Every morning you make sure to say good morning to him, and maybe slip in a question about how he slept. You asked this already knowing about his terrible nightmares, but you needed a reason to talk to him more than just a good morning. Thorfinn would usually say the same thing, “good morning (y/n), i slept okay”. Every-time you and Thorfinn interact Einar has to shake his head. Einar knows exactly how much you like Thorfinn, after all he is the only one you can talk to about it. “Oh, that’s good….” you reply back to Thorfinn, pausing before taking another breath to speak. “Do you and Einar have a lot to do today?” you question.

“We just have to do some chores for the old master and tend to our fields a bit.” Thorfinn replied in his smooth voice, one thing that made you fall for him. His voice was so soothing to you, it had such an effect on you. You try your best to stay calm and not get all giddy. “Well, good luck! Not that you’ll need it, you always succeed with your work.” you say with a big smile on your face.

“Thanks…” Thorfinn says sheepishly as he rubs the back of his neck. You go to say something but get interrupted by the mistress yelling at you.

“(Y/N)!!, GET OVER HERE, YOU TAKE WAY TO LONG. STOP FOOLING AROUND.”

“Ah, YES MISTRESS, COMING!” you shout back. You are about to tell Thorfinn that you have to go, when something possesses you to say something relatively bold for you.

“Sorry, I have to go. See you later handsome!”. As you finish your sentence you swiftly turn around and run back to the master's house. If you'd only stayed a few more seconds, you would have seen a bright blush on Thorfinns face. Thorfinn wonders to himself if you say that to every guy. Einar pats his shoulder startling him. “Well let’s get to work, “Handsome””. Einar exclaims in a teasing way. Thorfinn just looks at the ground while quietly telling him to be quiet. Einar sighs wondering when you guys will just get together already.

Later in the day, the sun had gotten higher, and beat down on everyone on the farm. Since Einar and Thorfinn have been doing physical labor all day, it’s not uncommon for them to have their shirts off. However, this was something new to you. The Mistress had told you to go check up on the old master, just to see how he was doing. As you were making your way to the old master's house, you saw Einar and Thorfinn working away. You extended your arm and shouted their names to get their attention. They waved back at you quickly, before getting back to work. As you neared them, the first thing you noticed was Thorfinns toned back. You almost fainted at the sight, never expecting him to be so well built. Einar being the first to realize you’re behind them, turned to see you gawking at Thorfinn.

“Jeez, would you stop drooling please, we are trying to work” Einar said mischievously, winking at you. You quickly turn your head to the side going red. “I was not drooling…” you said defensively, making Einar laugh. While Einar was laughing Thorfinn finished the task that he had himself busy with, making it so he was able to turn to you. You swear it was in slow motion, the way the sun glistened on his muscles as the sweat dripped down his body. When he was fully turned to you, you couldn’t help but stare at his well-toned abs. You looked him up and down for what seemed like forever, Thorfinn wondering why you were staring at him like that, just not saying anything. Thorfinn threw at quick questioning glance to Einar, who just rolled his eyes. “(y/n), are you done gawking at Thorfinn, i mean i know he’s well-built but, damn you act like you’ve never seen a guy with their shirt off.” Einar purposely said that so Thorfinn would know what’s happening. Thorfinn seemed to understand that at least, both of you looking away from each other blushing. Einar decided he was going to “ask if the old master needed any help”. Which was actually supposed to be your job, but how could you possibly pass up the chance to admire Thorfinn like this. You made a mental note to thank Einar later.

“Hi” you simply said in an attempt to clear the awkwardness from the air.

“Hi, (y/n)” Thorfinn replied. Now this was super awkward, both parties freaking out on the inside wondering what to say next. ahhhh, what do i say to her. Was she seriously staring at me like that. no, there’s no way. I mean i’m full of scars. yeah, she was probably looking at my scars. Thorfinn had convinced himself that you were looking at his scars in disgust and not admiring his body.

ahhhh, what do i say to him, i can’t believe Einar would say that. He totally knows i was gawking at him…He probably thinks i’m so weird. Now he probably hates me… You have somehow convinced yourself that Thorfinn hates you? However, that is far from the truth.

Thorfinn finally had the courage to say something. But it is not at all what you would have expected him to say.

“Sorry you had to see this.” he said in a quiet voice. It took you by surprise, what was he talking about? “I’m not sure i understand, Thorfinn?” you express your confusion.

“My scars, i’m sorry you have to see them, they are disgusting right?” Thorfinn looks up at you, and you can see the hurt in his eyes. At first you don’t say anything, baffled he could even think you’d think that of him. “What are you talking about! You are the most beautiful man i’ve ever seen!!!” you exclaim in an aggressive way, not even believing that he thought of himself that way. You see Thorfinn blush furiously at your comment. Making you think you may have gone too far. But no, you can’t stand here and watch the man you love call himself disgusting because of some scars. Thorfinn still doesn’t say anything, so you take it upon yourself to tell him how you really see him.

“Y’know Thorfinn, i don’t see your scars as disgusting, they are beautiful, i mean they tell your story, you have been through so much but still manage to want to change and better yourself, i really admire you. It takes a lot of courage to do what you’re doing.” You say, still not finished with your spiel. You continue. “I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if i thought you were disgusting, if anything you are quite the opposite, you make me want to be a better person. You really are perfect in my eyes” you finish while walking closer towards him.

Thorfinn looks awestruck, he’s never had anybody talk so highly of him. It almost moves him to tears. But then he realizes something. YOU’VE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH ME!?!? Thorfinn thinks to himself. He cannot even think straight, since when did you love him, for how long, how did he not notice. Now all those time that you’ve tried getting closer to him, specifically making him food while cooking for the mistress, all the compliments you gave him. He thought you were just a really kind person. But now it all made sense.

“You fell in love with me?” Thorfinn finally has the courage to ask. You freeze, wait did i actually just say that out loud you think.

“Yes….” you say wincing, bracing yourself for him to reject you. Surprisingly, a rejection never came. You look up to see Thorfinn red in the face fidgeting with his fingers.

“Do you really mean all those things you said?” He asks. “Of course, i mean them, i truly think highly of you.” you confess.

Thorfinn then breathes out the biggest sigh you’ve ever heard. “Oh, thank goodness, i was really scared you were going to hate me” Thorfinn continues. “I’m also overjoyed to know we share the same feelings”. Now it’s your turn to be stunned. Thorfinn likes you!?!

“Wait seriously? you love me back?” you ask.

“of course, i do, how could i not.” he gives a little chuckle. It then went silent for a while, both of you inching closer to each other. Soon you were so close that you could basically feel the heat off of him. Thorfinn slowly moved his hand under your chin. leaning your head, while moving his closer to you. As you thought he was about to kiss you, he stops. looking you dead in the eye he says. “May i kiss you?” You eagerly nod your head yes. You’ve been waiting for this moment! With your answer, he smashes his lips onto yours giving you a passionate kiss.

You then get interrupted by Einar yelling. “GET A ROOM YOU TWO!!”. Both of you immediately pull away and go red with embarrassment. You turn to the window of the master's house and glare at him. “What. just saying” Einar shrugs. Then Thorfinn says something you definitely weren’t expecting.

“Getting a room doesn’t sound like a bad idea, i just hope Einar knows that he won’t just be hearing my screaming at night anymore.” Thorfinn says in his seductive voice, looking you straight in the eyes.

You are definitely looking forward to tonight. You will certainly be thanking Einar now.

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HIS BACK 🫣 (This is where i got the idea from….)

[greenofhue]

Fond

another short thorfinn fic!! This takes place in the Baltic Sea Arc, the night after the jomsvikings fight/after they were disbanded, I didn't edit it much so beware of any typos!

Thorfinn lies asleep on the bed. Back facing me; his blonde hair merging with the furs, the cushions filled with golden straw. Firey shadows dancing across him; warm and focused. I can't help but be reminded of the dream I keep having. The wood crackles, tumbling over as it cools. He stirrs. Suddenly I am frozen in place. Yet, his movement is slow and sluggish. Slight relief fills me, as he sleeps- chest rising and falling- I think of his ribs. I think of the bruises.

I promised myself not to dwell. But perhaps it was the combination of fatigue and sight of him that caused my mind to fall back to the thought. The dream. We were both running through some field. I could never remember where, but I knew he was taking me somewhere. I keep running after him. Reaching, but he was so fast, and all I could see was the back of his head slipping away into the field. I could still feel that feeling after I woke; that he was going somewhere that doesn't need me. I couldn't help but feel it now even as he slept. It pulses in my heart, this terrible feeling.

I see that glimmer in his eyes all the time. The ocean, the woodlands; distant, eager atonement. His words are simpler, heavier, engraved with more than he lets on.

It constantly made my head spin; emotions I hadn't even registered that I had about him. Fear, frustration. I worry too much and I say too little. I wonder if it is because I fear it won't matter. The sight of him, full of arrows on his knees. He is chasing after something, something that isn't meant to be. Eventually it will fall through; this belief. I can't help but hope that I'm wrong.

"It's stupid." The words are airy, and yet ripped out of me. Full with the weight of something as they leave mouth. "I keep seeing it- this day. That we all loose you."

Impulsively, regretfully I draw my hand out from the warmth of my own furs. Resting it along his spine. Warm; enveloped. And I am following, counting his steady breaths as if he were something that could vanish at any moment. As if these breaths are numbered.

My words continue, being pulled; drawn out of my chest, "You're becoming careless. Wreckless with your life." I pause brows knit together, mulling over my thoughts before I speak. "I can't loose y-"

The furs shift with a weight pushed into my hand as he leans into my touch. Panicked, I remove myself. Falling deeper into my chair.

I felt a slight sense of loss when my hand left his back. I knew that my touch was just purely out of care, but I couldn't help but want more. As my hand left his skin, I felt a little colder. I watch as he stirrs, drifting; leaning into my dissipating warmth, into my now foregone embrace. Yet for that moment, the sudden fear, and frustration felt so small. The feeling of that was a bit intimidating, but familiar all at once.

I low rumble filled the room as he spoke. His voice was soft, filled with conviction. And I was startled by how much truth was hidden behind his words as he spoke.

"I would never leave you guys."

Dread shoots up my spine. Had he heard everything? No. He would've said something else. The realization sets in. 'you guys' - Not 'you.' I mentally punch myself for being so stupid. So vulnerable. Silence englulfs the room in a thick haze. I'm not sure how to respond. Am I over thinking it? Why would I?

Before I can even spit something out, Thorfinn turns to face me. A pained look on his face as he holds his side where the stitches were.

We are close. Close enough that I could make out his features in the dim lighting. His short unruly hair. Scar carved into the surface of his flushed cold cheeks. A face forged by the sea, hardened by years of war; still as soft as ever as he watches me. Eyes tracing the sight of me, and I'm drifting. Loosing any words that I might've had before. If there was ever a time to say my convictions, then it was right now.

For the first time in years, I can't hold his gaze. And for the first in time in years, my heart is pounding out of my chest. The feeling is familiar. Panicked, and the strong urge to run away; Embarrassment?

"Pfah," I choke back compelling laughter.

"What is it?" He squints, I can feel his stare; worn and heavy. Still, all the more focused as he watches me. My head is pounding now with too many things at once.

"I'm, sorry."

"Sorry?" He echos.

"I didn't realize you were awake." My gaze stays locked to the floor boards. There are twice as many cracks in the wood than usual.

"I'm the one who should be sorry."

Almost impulsively, my gaze finds his again. He stares at me, then at the bed, bashful; perhaps even as embarrassed as I am. Hands loosely clasped on his lap.

"I didn't mean to scare you. Or the others."

I turn my gaze to my hands, picking at the skin. I exhale deeply, consciously realizing how quiet it is that I'm not saying anything. And that I probably should say something. My body sinks deeper into the chair.

"I had a plan, I didn't go in there blind." Thorfinn continues, exhaustion evident as his shoulders fall, rousing from the warmth of the bed.

"Yeah, a bad one that almost cost you your life." I bite back a scoff, watching him rise. The skin on my hand turning red from my little habit.

"I know." he whispers. Leveled with me now as he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the chair I'm seated in. I notice how close our knees are.

He watches the cooling embers through his lashes. "I'm sorry."

"You know how it is. Out here." I sniff, nose runny from the seeping cold. "Those people need you." I purposefully leave out myself. Feeling his gaze on me as a result. I ignore it, wiping the hair from my eyes.

Words drift as the silence stretches out. Almost tangible. Obviously waiting for the things left unsaid; the doors left open. Thorfinn, deep in thought- rarely is he ever not in thought- opens his mouth to say something.

But I'm already standing. Air escaping my lungs. Wood creaking beneath my feet as I'm shifting from one foot to the other. Sheepish in all my ways. Ready to leave. Ready to forget this night, to forget what I feel- what I can't seem to face.

"But do you, need me?" Thorfinn breathes. Quick at the sight of me leaving. His words impulsive, yet so carefully chosen. The crack in his voice betraying him.

The question didn't startle me as I thought it would. I know him. I knew it was coming. He's always been blunt like this. Whether that was a good or bad thing.

Yet, it sets me off. "It's not fair." I turn to him, "What would've happened if you had died?" Despite the fear in my voice, the words are harsher than I intend, they ring in my ears.

"I had no intention of dying back there." He stands in defense. Though part of me doesn't even believe him.

"But you almost did!"

And suddenly it feels like we've already had this argument before. I'm fond of the burden he carries, I wish things were different, but they aren't. And just as soon as the argument starts, it ends.

"I know- I know." His words are heavy. Laced with something distant, something far off as they leave his mouth. And I can recognize it just as well as he can. Guilt.

"That doesn't make it anymore right." I barely whisper, sitting back down. Tension and exhaustion strung in all the way to my bones. The ache in my limbs grow, there's never enough time to rest.

"Then I'll make it right." His gaze turns back to his hands. Drifting over the scars there. I find myself watching too. "I promise."

The words ring, he's going somewhere that doesn't need me. I sigh, worn out. Reasoning with him is like trying to tell a goat to fly. "Then start with trying not to get yourself killed all the time." Hiding the desperation in my voice before I speak again, "Please?"

"I promise." He echos. But I know that words don't mean anything. Not here, not with this.

Yet I still cringe as the words leave my own mouth, trying not to believe them. Not to believe that it would make him stay. It's better not to dwell. It's better not to dwell. It's better not to- "I don't, not, need you."

Regretfully, I look up to meet his face. managing to catch the subtle twitch in the corner of his lips. Fleeting, there for just a moment. "Never thought I'd actually hear you say something like that." He pauses, impishly. "To my face at least."

Oh- he did hear me. And when his gaze meets mine, I am painfully reminded of how the warmth from his back felt, seeping into my hand. I avert my gaze to the side.

"I meant what I said." I speak into the cold.

"As did I."

"Yeah, about what? Promises you can't keep?" A dismissive scoff escapes my mouth, digging into the wound a bit more for good measure. Part of me doesn't even realize how well I mask these feelings into defensiveness.

"To you and everyone else." He chuckles, trying to make light of the situation. Which turns into a small fit of coughs as he holds his injured chest.

I take the chance to jab at his side, causing him to bat my hand away in pain. Still coughing and laughing. "Yeah, you deserve that." I grin, a breathy chuckle growing in the air.

"Shu-" More coughs, "Shut up." He manages to wheeze out, still fighting away my hand.

Part of me knows this; familiarity. It's so easy to have my guard down around him. To laugh at each other like children. Yet these flaring feelings surprise me again when he catches my wrist. And perhaps it was even just a flicker of his past self. That old cocky arrogance when his lips upturned into a grin. "What? Not funny?"

"No." I frown, distracted. "I completely love seeing you in pain." I put on a devilish grin. Making an effort to pry my wrist out of his hand. "Forgive me?"

"Always." He exhales from his nose, rolling his eyes. Acting annoyed, but clearly not fooling anyone. He enjoys this too. The familiarity.

Yet I couldn't help but notice the way his thumb naturally traced along my wrist, tracing the curve of my skin in a way that was endearing and almost tender. Holding onto me a little longer than he actually should. He hesitates before dropping my wrist. Eyebrows furrowed and turning his gaze away as if forgetting something important. And once again these feelings resurface a tenfold.

Silence falls upon us again, taking over the room. He watches irresolute; brown eyes heavy against the faltering cracklings of flame. It felt as if we were both still processing everything, and he could tell that I wasn't sure what to say as well. It left me uncertain of what was going on between the two of us. We had both uttered some sort of truth for one another. But It's easier to pretend. It's safer this way. It always has been.

"I'm sorry." I breathe. Finding myself saying that a lot recently.

"For what?"

"About what I said before."

"That doesn't matter." He shrugs.

"Why?"

"Because it's the truth, is it not?"

I watch his hands, how his thumb mindlessly traces the curve of his knuckles. I notice how he does that when he's thinking, trying to frame out his words.

"Do you.." He spaces out the words with hesitance, "Feel some way about me?" He finally whispers. And I notice how his breath is shaky; uneven.

The the same feeling from before returns. Increased heart rate, panicked, the strong urge to run. Yet I don't feel like running this time. Reminding myself to breathe. Instead I feel the urge to turn and face him and-

"Yes. I've grown, fond of you." I don't turn my head. Instead I watch the shadows dancing across my lap. Fond, that word sticks in my mouth like a taste you can't get out.

"Fond." Thorfinn breathes out as if he was anticipating something more. But I know him too well to know that something as simple as that is enough for him. And my mind focuses on the whisper of that one word. Repeating over and over. Fond...Fond...Fond...

"Are you surprised?" I whisper. Trying to swallow down this feeling that I did something wrong. That I shouldn't have said anything at all.

"No." He averts his gaze.

"Why?" I can't stop myself from inquiring more, I should stop.

"Because.." he trails off, "I have many reasons." He replies, voice a soft hush as if thinking about something that was pushed far away and buried. Feelings resurfacing.

I'll end this here. Snapping my thoughts together, I stand from my chair. "I should let you rest." I try not to look at him, it's better not to dwell. "The others want to be out of here by daylight. Who knows what Thorkell might ask of you in the morning."

I'm so stupid, so incredibly stupid. I should have never said that. Never said anything at all. And suddenly all these feelings are rising like ocean tides, I feel it in my throat.

His fingers close around my wrist in a swift motion, the suddenness of it catching me off guard. At first, all I registered was the warmth of his touch against my skin. Hands, scarred and callused. A constant reminder of my doubt. Of my fear.

"Why do you avoid me?" His voice, barely above a whisper, breaking through the silence like wind through a wind chime. "You always go run off... You never say what you really mean.."

I'm not brave enough to meet his gaze, yet I picture it. Eyes like deep caverns of brown, like the woodlands; so familiar over the years, etched into the fabric of my every memory.

"You don't want to know how I feel? You'd rather run?" I can feel the way he's searching all the angles of my face.

"It doesn't matter what you feel, or what I feel." Do not dwell.

"I'm not stupid." He whispers. "Why did you say it?" His words convict me. "All this time, why now?"

"I barely even said anything!" My voice is high in my ears, as if I were about to start laughing at the stupidity of the situation.

"But you did." Thorfinns voice is firm, laced with so much belief, so much certainty.

"I don't-" I shake my head, I can't think straight. "You're always like this. Saying things and doing things. Stop confusing me." My voice is strained, tired. "It's not easy."

"It's never been easy!" His voice is soft and desperate for me to just listen.

"And it never will be easy. Not now. Especially not with this." I reason, "There's always going to be something." I trail off, guiltily. The burden hangs heavy. Survival, fear, regret. "We aren't like everyone else, you and I aren't made for this," I shake my head. "All I know is now, and surviving now. There's no time for anything else."

"I know that- You don't think I know that? These things, everything that we've done it's.." He trails off. It bothers him, it always has.

"It's what made us the same." He finally breathes, trying to find his words. "All these years-" I feel his hand reach to cup my neck, thumb along my cheek, his voice faltering with the words,

"I've known you- I know you." His is touch so gentle it's almost ghostly. I don't think we've ever been so close before.

Everything moves so fast that I remain rooted in the stillness of the moment. Slowly faltering, loosing the urge to retreat as he draws nearer. His forehead meets mine, a gentle collision.

"Please- stay." Closer, closer. I can feel the warmth of his breath seeping through all my layers of cloth and furs. Closer, and I can feel his heart racing just as much as mine. Closer still, until there is nothing left.

I could feel the warmth of his skin, the slight tremble of his touch as he hesitates for a fraction of a moment. It was fleeting, almost instinctive as his lips brush against mine. A soft pressing; hardly a kiss. Each movement deliberate yet tentative. His breath, warm and steady, mingling with mine. The warmth from his lips linger long after. As if it etching itself into my skin, and I feel lost when we part; breaths mixing with the dark aroma of burning logs, I look at him. Hand still cupping my face, his hair tickling my forehead. He smells like the woods before rain.

Eyes the color of bison hide, watching. Darting from my lips back to me. Flustered as ever, never would I have expected such a bold act from him. Dusty red tints his face, rushing to the tip of his ears.

And he whispers to me, "I've, grown fond of you as well."

[soanliawriter]

♥*♡∞:｡.｡𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡｡.｡:∞♡*♥

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

◦•●◉✿𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜! 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒!✿◉●•◦

Below is the contents I do, these of which are onehsots, headcanons and roleplays. They will have titles and will be labeled either (nsfw) or (sfw)

(UPDATED MASTERLIST BELOW)

Please be reminded that, this account will be NSFW (18+ & 21+), BUT there will be SFW (fluff & softcore) too, best of both worlds is what you'll find here I guess haha.

Okay that is all! Happy reading! 🫶✨

// Oneshots // { Levi Ackerman }

Honeymoon with your Husband Levi (nsfw)

Stress Reliever (nsfw)

Accompanying Levi to hand out candies for the kids (fluff)

The Ackerman Family (fluff)

Hand placement // Hands (nsfw)

His touch makes you feel safe (fluff)

// Headcanons //

Levi Ackerman likes/loves (nsfw)

Ways Levi shows his love for you (fluff)

You look... (fluff)

// Roleplays //

Levi Ackerman roleplay (nsfw)

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

My random Levi quick imagination and thoughts:

Man of few words

On your period or pregnant

Levi eating pussy

Levi glares at you for wearing revealing clothes in public

Levi loves nicknames

Levi and you does skincare

Levi gives you a sensual gentle sex

Levi loves your boobs

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

Levi posts:

Him in a black suit

Someone tweeted him in a black suit before

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

{ Vinland Saga }

Thorfinn (manga panels)

Thorfinn x Gudrid (fanfic)

Thorfinn x Gudrid (manga panels)

Thorfinn being clueless (fanfic)

Thorfinn and his son Karli (manga panels)

Gudfinn being innocent babies (headcanon)

Thorfinn calling his pregnant wife "pregnant lady" (manga panel)

Thorfinn and Gudrid had sex?! (Fanfic)

🫶

{Kaiju No 8}

Soshiro Hoshina the man you are (post)

Soshiro knows your weakness is him (nsfw) (pt 2) (pt 3/ finale)

See ya soon loves/besties <3

[tirednamelessguy]

Okay, context: This is just a little scene I typed out in the middle of the night recently for a fanfiction (which isn't really one, it only exists in my head in the form of a bunch of different scenes and some backstory). It's for the manga and anime series Vinland Saga and is a Thorfinn x oc/reader fic. That's all that I wanna say for now, I'll probably reblog this to really get into the nitty gritty of this fic (like giving the actual context of the story). I just really wanted to share this one because I can't get it out of my mind so I gotta. Anyway, enough of me yapping, enjoy.

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The moon hung low in a star studded sea of darkness, shining down on the land. The deep blue river surged on, seeming to carry a thousand shimmering stars in its bosom along its path; to flow for miles before joining at a greater vastness eventually. The glowworms didn't come out that night, painting the two familiars in just the light of the world above. They were staring at the waters in silence, both lost in thought. Erik's fingers subconsciously found their way to her hair when the strain of its bounds started to get a little painful and released them, letting her hair cascade down her shoulders, curled and tangled. A faint sigh left her at the relief to her scalp. She saw a faint outline of her face in the water, watching her locks cup her face but couldn't tell much besides due to the meagre light. She brushed through them with her hand, taming them a bit before her eyes naturally went to Thorfinn, finding his gaze already on her.

They were sitting pretty close to keep warm but the distance hadn't meant much until now, when it felt miniscule yet immense at the same time. Erik's stare wandered from Thorfinn's eyes but not far, finding home in his face still, running over his features— his nose, his brows, his hair, his temples, his cheeks, his ears, his jaw, his chin, his lips; she thoroughly traced it all with her eyes, reading each shape, each rise, each dip, each scar. In its totality, his face looked dreamy, like a haze was pulled over it. Or perhaps it was her who was in a haze, finding contentment in simply gazing at him. It was about time she said something, she was aware of that but words struggled to take form in her head, let alone break free from the confines of her mouth.

"You look beautiful." Finally, he spoke. His voice was gentle, not rising above the gushing water in front of them as a rule. Their eyes reunited and for a second, he stumbled, eyes wide as if he surprised himself with his own words but soon, he collected himself. That was his nature after all. He always knew what to say and each word that left those perfectly shaped lips of his was like the mead of poetry for which she would be down to trickery just to get a taste of.

"It... suits you... this way."

The tug on the corners of her lips grew stronger, a fluttering in her chest made her take in a deep breath; the chill, fresh smells of grass and damp soil filled her chest. Her gaze grew softer and that was answer enough for him. 'Thank you', her smile told him. She wondered what he was thinking, his honey-brown eyes refusing to leave her. What she had in mind was crystal clear though. 'I love you', that was all. She wished she could say it. She probably could but she knew neither of them wanted to break the fragile, sanctious tranquility between them.

For that reason, he let his actions speak, extending a hand and delicately caressing her cheek with his knuckles. In harmony, she closed her eyes, feeling every inch of his hand. If she could somehow collect this feeling of his warm, scarred skin on her face, make an ocean out of it and slowly drown in it for eternity, she gladly would. His hand brushed along her shadowy locks and she ached to look at him again. He had moved— no, he was moving, just so slow that it was barely noticeable.

Their eyes were set on each other, locked in place. As he neared her, she could see his eyes more clearly. Shining in the moonlight, they held not only the colour but also the effects of the most divine mead to ever make her drunk. And from the core of those wells grew his pupils ever wider, a darkness that beckoned her to get closer as well. And she did, hypnotised, leaning closer both to his palm that cupped her cheek now, and his bewitching face. His lips were parted ever so slightly which she replicated. Her eyelids grew heavier, fluttering half way down. His thumb brushed her cheekbone, almost as if to make sure this was real. He lifted his chin and tilted his head to the right and his breath tickled her cheek so intoxicatingly, her eyes couldn't stand to remain open. And if she wasn't dying to feel his lips, she would probably fall back and swoon right there.

He didn't drag her anticipation. His lips connected with hers, feather-light and softer than clouds. That alone was enough to leave her breathless— head feeling light and heart soaring. She wanted to say his name, over and over again until her breath ran out, like it was the chant of Gods, an elixir to the parched lips of a lone traveller. She didn't. Solely because she couldn't with the way his lips blanketed hers, moving in a drawn out way. He was making his point, showing her he meant what he said and more. Erik returned the affection, kissing him with all the softness and all the love she had in herself. Her hand went to hold his free one that rested on his lap, lacing her fingers with his.

Their kiss deepened slightly, the yearning that was in the back of both of their minds taking reins. Her brows drew close. Her heart was crying out, her throat hurt from keeping all the emotion down, the only outlet being her lips which did their best to convey all that they could. Soothingly, Thorfinn brushed his thumb over her warm skin again. He understood, she could tell. Because he felt it too. All those years spent away from each other crumbled and turned to dust before them; disappeared, never to separate them again. Nothing ever could, not anymore. For their hearts would always show the way to the other. Even if the heavens were to rip them apart, even if they were stranded on opposite sides of the world, they would find a way back.

'I love you', her heart whispered yet again and he listened. And he said it back, all in the simple motion of the kiss.

————————————————————————

Just wanna add that I've written more after this but am debating whether or not to put that up as well. I'll probably let it marinate in my notes for a while and post it anyway idk

[tisthekatseason]

serious question, is the term Thornute official?

[clemberryfriends]

AAAAAHHHH THE NEW SEASON OF VINLAND SAGA CAME OUT TODAY ON NETFLIX IM SO DAMN HAPPPYYY 🤧🤧

Again feel free to tag me in any Vinland saga x POC reader or just x reader content especially for thorfinn he my fave😌

[shinjisdone]

𝑇𝜎 𝑆𝜎𝑓𝜏𝜀𝜋 𝛼 𝑊𝛼𝑟𝑟𝜄𝜎𝑟’𝑠 𝐻𝜀𝛼𝑟𝜏 (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn - 𝑺𝒍𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝑨𝒓𝒄, 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 2)

In which you have joined Askeladd’s band…and grow closer to the Son of Thors - though as your future seemed promising, his thirst for revenge devastated all that you had left.

[Headcanons of how it would be like to meet Thorfinn again after he shattered your heart (based on season 2; both platonic and romantic)

Sᴇᴀsᴏɴ ₁ ﹙Wᴀʀ Aʀᴄ﹚ is here

Part 1: - (Thorfinn as a slave and his struggles)

Part 3: - (Thorfinn finds a reason to live, you finally see him)

Tag list:

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets , @lana-del-stan , @theghostofanficpresent ,  @night-shadowblood-writes2

[Mentions of murder, death, war, slave trade, harrasment against women and whatever awful things happened in the viking era. Slavery will be a main subject throughout the entire arc. Mostly gender-neutral examples but female-leaning ones are there, too.]

[This part will specifically mention: Slavery, mentioning of cutting a tongue off, angst, crying, belittling, mentions of the piss bucket, su*cidal thoughts, Thorfinn isnt doing good]

I Played The Game Of Life And Had A Ball...

The battered hands were whipped away from his face.

Pater took ahold of them, dragged them away by their shoulder with a harsh tug back to Ketil. The man simply blinked in surprise, back straight as he watched the slave easily give in.

"How strange." He said more to himself, "This is the first time they spoke."

Though his face bore utter shock, Thorfinn managed to meet Ketil's, up on horseback.

"Apologies, Thorfinn and Einar but the trader told me this one never once spoke a word - so I was a bit startled." A chuckle escaped him, "Well, that's why I wanted to introduce you three. They seemed strong enough for farm work but don't tell anyone of what they can do or what they learned to do as a worker."

"It's idiotic if I may share my thoughts." Pater stepped in, having shoved the new slave behind him. Wordlessly and without fight they stumbled to the back, lowering their head. The man threw them one last glance before continuing. "Their tongue hasn't been cut off, so they just refuse to speak. If you want to some worth as a slave, you ought to let your master know of your skills, let alone your name."

"Well," Ketil let out a dry laugh, "Since we don't know what they'll likely do, I will probably send them around the farm to see what they can do best. I just wanted to introduce you to a new face."

Einar's gaze flickered between Thorfinn and Ketil, clearing his throat abruptly before stepping up. "Of course, thank you, master! We will...teach them when they're send to us." Once again, Einar looked back to the blonde, who stood still.

With a nod, Ketil lead the horse back to his house with Pater watching the new slave's steps. They followed without looking back.

So did Thorfinn.

Slowly he turned around, axe in hand as he aimed for a tree. Just as he almost reached it, Einar was quick to catch up. "Hey, what was that?" With wide eyes and an unnerved gaze he watched the blonde cut again and again. "Does that person know you?"

The axe cut against the wood again.

"Hey, Thorfinn!" Einar contemplated getting in his way but the Thorfinn seemed so in trance that he feared he'd cut him down too, "They said something to you, I heard that! You said you were from Iceland, didn't you?! Someone who doesn't talk doesn't suddenly decide to!"

For a moment, he swallowed down his anger. Thorfinn doesn't respond, not when it's important, not when its from the master. He's only known him for a few days but knows enough that letting his emotions out will drain him - and he has work to do as a slave.

"Maybe they were just seeing things," He ran a hand through his hair, huffing, "Poor thing was probably tired and hungry. They looked like they've seen hell. Maybe it's best to leave 'em be..."

Another swing and the blade gets stuck.

Einar noted the freeze, how Thorfinn barely made an attempt to get the axe out - even though he's one of the strongest men he has ever seen.

The blade quivered. Down from the tip, right through the wooden handle, through the clenched fingers and the cramped arms shaking. His eyes traveled up to the man's contorted face and the tears falling down. They fell on his arms and the soil below.

"Thorfinn! Hey, what's wrong?!"

Silently, the blonde rose and turned his head. Over his shoulder, the entrance to the woods looked so serene. Not a soul to be found.

Crazy Of Me To Think I Had It All...

/It may have been the third time he has seen any emotions on his face.

But as always, he shrugged it all of. As if nothing happened, as if Einar was stupid and didn't see anything.

This time, he did not give an answer. Not an excuse. Thorfinn briefly shed tears, stared back where Ketil stood and continued to cut.

In the middle of the night, he screamed as usual. There was an ounce of normalcy left in his daily life at least.

With a sigh, he followed him again. Axe over his shoulder, and tools in Einar's hands. They figured that while Thorfinn cuts down the trunk, Einar can dig around the soil and loosen the roots.

At least, there was water. Cool, refreshing water in the well in the morning, something to look forward to, something to enjoy. The young rays of the sun, the dew around the barn that decorated the grass tips quite delicately, feeling the air outside of the barn that didn't stink of manure.

And there, among these lovely things, was the most loveliest, Arnheid, as he has come to know her, greeting him again with towel in hand.

Her attire was simple but sturdy, so she was looked after well as Ketil's slave. Her long, blonde hair open as she wiped her long, pale face. Baby blue eyes accompanied with long, blonde lashes. He felt a bit embarassed that he noticed all of it so much.

But she made every morning lovely.

Though as they began their chat, another figure appeared around the corner, a used cloth handed to them as they approach the well, too. Their eyes drooped as they were on the first day. Arnheid and Einar instinctively made space as they washed their face.

"Hey, do you know anything about the new one?" Einar whispered, and Arnheid shook her head. "No, I saw them once. But I don't know if they will stay in the house, like me."

She gestured to the master's abode where his wife was impatiently waiting. That was her cue to go inside but alongside Einar, she couldn't help but watch as the new slave's eyes met that of Thorfinn's.

He stopped still like a hunchback, a good and cold distance away from each other. Water dripped down their unexpressive face before wiping it off and disappearing from once they came.

It was brief yet to all of them it felt like an eternity. To Thorfinn it was like witnessing a creature from fables curse him with their presence.

But It Doesn't Matter Anymore...

The land is vast and rich.

Summer is slowly ending and as the rays of the sun vanish quicker with the moon, the wheat on the ground stays golden.

Meticulously cut and sown through each field. The master is careful and planning, working alongside the slave children as they laugh and cut. Their feet swollen and dirty without any shoes or gear for protection.

Yet they smile and are joyous for each day they get to live.

In peace. On a farm.

Working on one is a dream for many, they presumed. So it couldn't be so bad.

But the ripped, same clothes and the scars around their wrist couldn't convince them of such a reality. Scars earned from battle should now be replaced with honest work? As a slave? Nothing of it seemed genuine nor right.

Being send around like goods from one point of the farm to another to find suitable work wasn't genuine as well.

Fieldwork, domestic labor, animal care, wood cutting...

Whatever they could be useful for, they'd do. They were cheap after all. Almost a free ware.

So Ketil had no qualms or second guesses when taking them home with him.

Extra pair of hands was helpful for lacking ones in certain fields. The two young men could need help...but he wouldn't want to promise a third member freedom when they were so cheap. Besides, it could cause tension between them.

Pater was patient but strict. Repeating himself again and again of the role of a slave and that hard work and amicable business between master and property can lead to freedom. To a good position that fills an empty stomach. However many times he taught them, the new slave never replied.

He checked for the second time if their tongue got cut out or if there were any infections in the throat but he didn't find anything.

Master Olmar, Ketil's son, was not interested in a helping companion or maid. He is not interested in farm work or anything his father does and a slave would slow him down on his quest for England.

Arnheid was open but confused at the newbie. Ketil found that, with her help, domestic work was easy for them to learn but the extra help was unneccessary.

Somewhere, somehow...they were not needed.

It was when they were cutting wood, rising the axe to slash and cut again and again, when they were stopped.

It was the call of some workers, neither not knowing each other.

"What on earth are ya doing?! The hardwood's uneven! And there are splinters everywhere! How can you even think of giving us any of that measly stuff?!"

A man came stomping forward, leering dangerously close. Another one lazily followed. "Are you sure you're even talking to a slave?"

"Oh, I'm sure. They got the eyes of one." The man finished with a spit, before continuing the scolding.

The slave blinked listlessly, droning out the insults and ignoring the spit befalling their face. "Are you even listening to me!? Answer me, you measly slave!" Another quivering stomp and the worker rose their hand, opening their palm - before jumping back with a gasp.

Just barely and in a speed neither could follow, a small but broad figure squeezed itself between the worker and slave. A thud followed quickly and the worker shrieked. "Agh, my leg! Be careful, you bastard!" He hopped further back, holding his wet leg over his knee. Thorfinn hunched down to retrieve the bucket. "Ew, it stinks...!", He cringed and covered his nose, "Is that piss?! Ew, don't tell me its piss!"

"Apologies," Thorfinn muttered, holding his head low, "I tripped." "Gods, you threw your piss bucket at me! You'll pay for that, you dwarf!"

With wide, flickering eyes, the new slave watched as the worker hopped away as his friend reluctantly helped him, while trying to keep a good distance. Taking a step back and lowering the axe, they looked down to Thorfinn.

His back was hunched and his gaze empty as it stared holes into the air. Scars decorated his muscular arms and he seemed to have grown. Hair longer, less unruly and draping over his face like wet cloth.

He seemed to hesitate to glance back at them - yet as he did, he was just as quickly on his way, wordlessly and full of regret.

"Hey, Thorfinn!" The slave looked over their shoulder, staring at the waving brunette who called out to him. The man raised a brow as their eyes met.

And I Kept Holding On To The Power And Lost My Freedom...

Once again the day turned into night as the cycle continued on throughout the summer. Cicadas chirped nearby and to Einar - the noise so loud and distracting - it seemed once again as if they were stuck in his ear - though, he got used to it.

Chirping of critters and rustling of hay was the least of his concerns. As he laid there in the barn, watching Thorfinn rest on the other side, he couldn't help but let out what he's been thinking.

"Hey...Thorfinn," Einar paused for the blonde to give any reply but contined when he didn't receive one. He got used to that as well. "Why...were you helpin' the newbie?"

Thorfinn shifted ever so slightly, "...I don't know what you mean."

"Now, Thorfinn...you aren't as slick as you think you are. I'm not the only one who noticed that you keep on staring at 'em whenever we bump into each other. Stop that, alright? Or else you'll get in trouble with the Master."

The blonde gave a low hum, not moving an inch.

Einar took a deep breath. "...Do...you know them from somewhere? Somewhere that isn't here?"

Once again, he paused. His companion barely moved, barely breathed as he laid there, thinking, thinking, thinking...

"...I don't know."

The stars finally greeted him. His cue was Einar's booming snores. Its alright. He got used to it.

Sitting up, he went out and leaned on the entrance's pillar. The wood was cold and the lights at Master Ketil's house were out.

That's where he last saw them. Inside, through the window, listening and nodding as Ketil talked. The light of the candles illuminated their face and Thorfinn couldn't help but focus and stare.

They're taller. Bigger. The color of the hair was the same but grew longer. Their eyes may be lidded and red, but the color stayed the same.

His gaze traveled towards their body, to potential scars. Just to be sure. Did they bear the same ones? Were there any new ones?

Did they bear the same gear? The same possessions? The same trinkets? The same smile?

Was that really you?

Thorfinn wasn't sure and it terrified him. Each and every day seeing your silhouette somewhere, either far away as a figure or right beside him. Being able to see, to distinguish, to smell you.

Just like in his dreams.

Why? Why has it to be you?

Is this his nightmare come to life? Is this his punishment for all that he's done?

Why does he keep forgetting these important things but has a clear image of you? And why does this haunt him more than anything else?

It's killing him. Killing him, killing him...

He wished you were dead.

Yet still here he was, a slave, keeping an eye on this stranger, protecting them from the workers...all because they look like you.

They spoke, didn't they?

Spoke of Iceland...

It has to be you.

Why? Why?!

Why can't you be dead?!

After all that has happened...when he arrived on this farm...

When he became a slave and cuts down the trees in the forest...

A beast like him, as Einar called them...

Warriors as beasts...

When he inevitably would die out here...

He had hoped everything would die with him.

[This one is short...and somewhere along the lines my english just left my brain lol. Im not really satisfied with how these sentences turned out.

But I really feel like im on a Roll with this. I wanna continue TSAWH so badly rn haha. The current situatuon and characters are stagnant so i better get to the *rubbing my hands* important plot point of the story ]

[jeweldagger]

thorfinn x f!reader (soulmate au!)

the heat around he two of yo could be unbearable, as houses crashed down onto the floor, engulfed by flames.

houses of people you knew.

you watched as your classmates, friends, family, teachers... you watched as they were all slaughtered in cold blood.

and the boy in front of you was the sole cause of it all.

he seemed to be about your age, not very tall with shaggy, dark blonde hair. his dark eyes glared down at you, an apathetic look on his face.

did he not care that he had just let a group of vikings kill everyone? a whole village? did he not care that everything was up in flames? did it not bother him?

did he not care that.. he was your soulmate?

you could tell he was, purely by the fact that the red string of fate wrapped around your pinky, in linked with his.

his end as various signs of cutting, and attempts to rip it off... and you had suffered from them.

each attempt at harming the string, inflicts an equal amount of pain to both soulmates. each slash dug deep into your skin, and each tug you could feel.

he was desperate to get rid of the string, but only caused pain for the both of you.

"you.." your voice was shaky as you stared up at him, his hand resting at his side.

he spared the string not even a mere glance, his eyes were focused on you and you alone.

his soulmate.

[kaigarax]

Exactly As It Is

Thorfinn x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone kind." & "Fall in love with someone familiar."

Someone You Loved Featuring: The Chef

Thorfinn Karlsefni wasn’t quite sure when he ended up here.

He remembered the hectic start to this morning. Needing to shave (which he should have been doing every morning but had been forgetting to remember), pick up his suit from the drycleaners, send Karli to his mother’s, and…

Well that was the just of things.

Running around like a chicken with its head cut off - and when his head finally found itself back on his body he was sitting in the back of the wedding reception hall, hiding from the large crowds of people he didn’t yet know. Thorfinn has never been all too good with people, he likes to think he’s gotten much better now, but large groups have never quite been his thing.

Honestly, he’s just happy he managed to make it to the wedding at all. The bride was one of the first people to reach out to him back during his first few years in University. Not scared off by his rough demeanor. So of course, despite not knowing most of the people at this wedding, he had still decided to come.

“Ah, unrequited love.” You smile wistfully as you take a seat at the table.

Thorfinn feels a wave of heat rush up to his face as he looks across the table at you. The table’s relatively small with just enough space that he’d be able to reach over and poke your cheek if he really wanted to.

Technically this isn’t the table Thorfinn is supposed to be sitting at.

This is the table prepared specifically for you - the wedding photographer. Thorfinn just happens to be occupying one of the seats because he doesn’t want to be so in the middle of the crowd. That and he likes being around you.

Seated on your left is you plus one that you’d been allowed to invite. The Hero, Thorfin, isn't mistaken. He’s tall and seemingly lanky, though from Thorfin’s own personal experience he can tell that the Hero is buffer than he appears to be. Thorfin notes that the Hero has a triangular sorta smile with thick black hair that sits flatly atop his head. He is, objectively speaking, attractive.

You’re dressed real pretty today, in a light coloured dress that he hasn’t seen you wear before. Thorfinn finds himself wondering what material the dress might be made out of. He does happen to know that you’re impartial to most fabrics but have a tendency to favour silk. So maybe it’s made of silk?

He isn’t all too sure.

What he is sure of, on the other hand, is that you look beautiful.

“Who?” A man asks, taking the empty seat beside you. Thorfinn recognizes the man as the Pilot, your latest muse.

He’s tall though not as tall as the Hero with his hair unnaturally dyed purple. Thorfinn doesn’t know much about beauty products but he’s pretty certain that a colour like that is expensive to get. The Pilot is definitely one of the more attractive people that Thorfinn had the pleasure of meeting - and Thorfinn is pretty sure he’s a model.

Figure someone like that would be your latest muse.

You gesture over to a group of people sitting near the other side of the room, your eyes landing on a pink haired boy. He looks to be someone in his late teens? Thorfinn isn’t all too sure - but then again he never has been the best at guessing ages. He still has a scar (he doesn’t actually) from an older woman whose age he guessed wrong. It may or may not have been because he guessed ten years over.

Thorfinn smiles softly at your expression, “who’s he in love with?”

You smile back teasingly, “guess.”

“The brown haired girl?” The Hero suggests quickly.

Thorfinn’s own eyes scan over the small group, quickly picking out the girl that sat closest to the pink haired boy.

He’s quickly proven wrong with the shaking of your head.

Finally, the Pilot, after a long moment of consideration, points out a girl sitting across the table, “the girl with the golden eyes?”

Your own eyes seem to light up at that, “oh, and what makes you say that?”

The girl with the golden eyes? What would make someone say that? From this distance Thorfinn can’t actually see all too well, much less see the eye colours of them from across the room. He actually has to commend the Pilot for being able to see so well.

You seem amused, as you usually do.

The Pilot shrugs, “a gut feeling I guess.”

You ‘tsk’ your tongue disapprovingly as one might do when they scold a young child, “I expected better of you, Mr. Airplane.”

“Mr. Airplane?” Thorfinn asks.

The Pilot rolls his eyes, “just a silly nickname.”

The Hero laughs in response, “it suits you, being the Pilot and all.”

Thorfinn feels his cheeks flush in response. He should have figured something like that. He honestly feels rather silly for not realising it sooner. At least it looks like you’re having a good time as you lean back in your chair playfully. You seem close to both the Hero and Pilot.

You laugh along with the Hero, “ah yes, the Pilot.”

“You’re such a brat.” The Pilot huffed, his cheeks dusting over with pink.

“At least I don’t rely on gut feelings to know when someone’s in love.” You taunt back.

Thorfinn is quite sure how effective the taunt is as he scratches the back of his neck, more curious about your words then why you said them, “how do you know when someone’s in love, (Y/n)?”

“Well,” you begin, “I would recommend years of observation - as experience is the most sure way of figuring this kind of thing out - but I’ll give you guys the sparknotes. To know if someone’s in love you just have to follow their gaze.”

The Hero clears his throat, “why?”

You smile warmly, “because the gaze never lies.”

Thorfinn’s own eyes land on you.

The gaze never lies? He’s never quite thought about it that way before. Thorfinn supposes he’s never been much of an introspective person - charging head first into things has always been his preferred method of attack. The instinctual way to solve his problems. Perhaps that was why he liked you so much; because you did things in such a different way from him; because you were able to look at things from a different perspective.

“Do any of you ever plan on getting married?” You ask, turning to look back at Thorfinn and the others.

The Pilot is the first to speak up, answering with a simple, “eventually.”

“Eventually?” You ask.

“Well, obviously whoever I get married to is going to have to be okay with being in the public light. Constantly being harassed by the paparazzi whether they’re famous or not just because they’re associated with me. I don’t plan on getting married until I’m ready to settle down in my acting career.” Explained the Pilot.

You smile softly, “very mature of you.”

The Pilot grins playfully in response, “besides, actors and models are more popular when they’re single anyways.”

“And” you sigh playfully, “he drops the ball.”

The playful grin on the Pilot’s face is quick to morph into something more akin to a frown. Thorfinn wonders if that’s the kind of expression you like seeing on people’s faces. Okay, it sounds a little bad when he puts it that way but he doesn't really have any other way to phrase it. You just always seemed to be good at pushing other people’s buttons in order to elicit certain reactions out of them - and Thorfinn wondered if this happened to be one of those reactions you enjoyed seeing more than others.

“What about you, Viking Boy?” You ask, turning your gaze to Thorfinn, “you are the oldest of us four. You plan on getting hitched anytime soon?”

Thorfinn freezes beneath your gaze. Feels stuck to the floor. More embarrassed than thoughtful when he hears you mention that he’s the oldest. He knows that he is a couple years older than you but to bring that idea to light is honestly a little embarrassing.

You smile teasingly.

His nickname, Viking Boy, came out so easily. Just when was the last time you called him that?

In the end, Thorfinn decides that you definitely like making people make this kind of expression. Even if you don’t admit it.

Thorfinn swallows, attempting to push his blush down, “I guess I never thought much about it.”

“Any girl would be lucky to have you,” you say, dashing any chance he had at hiding his blush, “or guy if that’s what you’re into.”

“Well I-”

The Hero cuts Thorfinn of with a gentle path to Thorfinn’s back, “come on, Sweets, don’t tease him.”

Sweets?

Thorfinn supposes you are sweet.

You don’t bother to correct him as you laugh, “and what about you, Cellophane?”

Cellophane. Thorfinn thinks he’s heard that before somewhere. Maybe from you? Oh well. If he can’t remember then he can’t remember. What is curious to think about, on the other hand, has to be the fact that you and the Hero speak to one another in such endearing ways. Using nicknames and light tones. It’s not a way that Thorfinn has ever been able to speak to you. Not the kind of person he was - but most certainly the kind of person he wanted to be. Or at least with you that was the kind of person he wanted to be.

“Well no shame,” you say softly, “not everyone in this world gets married.”

“And what about you, Sweets?” Asked the Hero.

“Marriage,” you say the word as if tentatively tasting it for the first time, “what do you think?”

Thorfinn isn’t quite sure who you’re saying those words to but he knows for certain that the only reason why you answer that way is because you don’t want to answer that question at all. It was what you always did when you didn’t want to answer a question. Redirect on to everyone else around you to see what they thought of you. It was clever if not a little annoying at times.

If you did care for Thorfinn’s opinion he’d tell you that you’d make a wonderful wife though he doubts that’s the kind of relationship you’d want with someone else.

He watches carefully as your gaze wanders over from the trio of muses around you and back towards the group of young people on the other side of the room. The pink haired boy is standing up tall telling a story to everyone at the table. He’s charismatic. Well, more charismatic than Thorfinn would ever be, smiling and laughing at what everyone else says.

The girl with golden eyes (or at least the girl Thorfinn thinks has the golden eyes) says something soft and gentle in response to the pink haired boy’s story. Thorfinn likes to think that out of everyone there he’s most like the girl with golden eyes. Gently observing everyone else from the back.

Lastly, Thorfinn notes that your eyes land on an orange haired boy. He knows for a fact that it’s the orange haired boy because of the way your smile shifts. How your eyes stop for just a moment before closing slightly in the orange haired boy’s direction. Thorfinn isn’t very good at dealing with other people but he knows for a fact that he’s good at dealing with things when it comes to you. That he notices all the small and little things you do when you see someone that catches your attention.

“What makes you think he has an unrequited love? (Y/n)?” The Pilot asks, bringing the attention back to the pink haired boy.

You seemingly sit up straighter in your chair, “don’t think, Mr. Airplane. I know.”

The Hero raises a brow, a playful smile forming in the corner of his lips, “oh do you now?”

“Of course. I know people’s hearts.” You smile in a way that makes Thorfinn’s heart flutter, “why else would my works be so popular?”

Hm, Thorfinn has always known that you were popular but he’s never exactly formed the idea in his mind up until now. Kind of like knowing that your hand gets cold when you touch ice but never actually thinking about it until someone else brings it up.

Thorfinn smiles, “because you’re good at taking photos?”

The Hero laughs in response, giving Thorfinn another playful pat on the back, “I like you. You’re so straightforward! Not like this little missy here.”

“Thanks I guess.” Said Thorfinn, hoping his cheeks weren’t flushed a dramatic shade of red.

“Hey!” You exclaimed.

The Pilot gives your shoulder a gentle shove, “people like your photos because you pick such good looking Muses.”

“Very true,” you beam brightly, “the muses I pick have excellent hearts.”

Despite knowing it’s a board statement meant to be shared between all of your muses it has Thorfinn’s heart beating erratically. The last time he remembers feeling this way was back all the way when he was a young boy that didn’t know the difference between revenge and avenge. All just words and actions in an attempt to resolve that anger that bubbled up in his chest.

Maybe it’s a good thing that Thorfinn hasn’t felt like this in awhile.

He’s spent most of his life trying to right the wrongs of his youth. Spent most of his days worried about what other people might think of him. To be called someone with an excellent heart, and by you of all people, has him halting every action of his life. Heck, he’s not even sure he’s breathing properly right now.

“Hey!” The Hero is the first to speak up, “you never answered the question, Sweets.”

“I haven’t, have I?” You say coyly.

“This is what you mean, ain’t it?” The Pilot asks, directing his question to the Hero, “she hates answering questions directly.”

“Hey, you’re ganging up on me.”

The Hero smirks, “that’s because you make it too easy.”

Thorfinn smiles softly, liking the way your cheeks flush in embarrassment, “it’s okay, (Y/n), you don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to.”

Thorfinn, if he could, would make sure you never had to do something you didn’t want to. Heck, he’d be willing to walk to the end of the earth for you if he could. He isn’t all too sure why but he knows for a fact that he would.

“You’re too easy on her.” Scolded the Hero.

The Pilot adds, “a total simp.”

Thorfinn isn’t too sure if that’s a bad thing or not.

Doesn’t really matter all too much though. Not when you smile like that at him, “the two of you could learn a thing or two from him.”

“Doubt it, Sweets.” Chides the Hero, patting the top of your head playfully.

You grab his hand and smile, “love is such a mysterious thing.”

Now that is a statement that Thorfinn can agree with. Emotions in general are fairly mysterious but love in particular seems to take the cake. At first Thorfinn thinks you might be making a comment about the people here; the thought quickly leaves his mind when he notices that you’re gaze is directed to the centre of the room. At the bride and groom.

Thorfinn found himself surprised at how happy the bride and groom seemed to be. Obviously he knew that married couples were happy (especially newly weds) but this just wasn’t something he’d been expecting.

Huh, now that Thorfinn thinks about it, he wasn’t all too sure what he expected in the first place.

So instead he turns to you, gently poking your side, “I thought you said that love was a well understood thing?”

“I did?” You ask.

The Pilot nods, “yes.”

“You sure?”

The hero hums, “very~”

“When?”

“During my exhibit.” Said the Pilot.

You pause briefly, “oh, I guess I have.”

The Pilot leans towards you and flicks your forehead gently.

Thorfinn has half a mind to swat the Pilot’s hand away but manages to stay calm when he sees how you smile softly. If you don’t take any offence to the action then Thorfinn won’t either. He’ll remain seated.

“Perhaps,” you say softly, “I should say fate is such a mysterious thing.”

Fate.

It has a tricky kinda relationship with Thorfinn. A constant push and pull that he isn’t all too aware of. A tug of war that he’ll never be able to win. At least it seems that you have a much better relationship with the very force of nature.

“Do you think they’re each other’s first love?” The Hero asks, staring at the newly wed couple.

“Yes.” Thorfinn says.

At the same time he hears the Pilot mumble a simple “no.”

The newlyweds are young. Younger than Thorfinn had been when he first fell in love. But the main thing that draws Thorfinn to his conclusion is the look on the groom’s face as he looks at the bride. He holds her gently, as if she might break apart if he holds her any rougher and keeps her body close to his.

“She’s his first love.” You declare.

The Hero raises his head, “hm?”

“It’s the way he looks at her,” you explain, “you always look at your first love differently from everyone else. There’s a certain kind of softness in his eyes.”

Thorfinn chuckles, his gaze wandering from the dancing newlyweds to the best man sitting alone, “it’s too bad his best man doesn’t seem to like her very much.”

“What makes you say that?” You asked.

Thorfinn looks at the best man sitting at the table with his hands in his lap, his gaze unwavering from the dancing couple, “because he’s sitting so stiffly.”

The Hero nods agreeingly, “he does seem rather annoyed.”

“I get that impression too.” Added the Pilot.

Your eyes sparkle with amusement, “elaborate.”

“I guess it has something to do with the way he acts around her.” The Pilot explains, “it’s like he’s stepping on eggshells.”

Thorfinn looks back to the best man, his resolve wavering slightly, thinking that maybe he might’ve been too quick to come to a judgment, “he could just be shy.”

“Or maybe he doesn’t like her and is upset the groom is marrying someone he doesn’t like?” The Hero suggested.

You smile, “he’s in love with her,” as if the best man’s feelings are your own.

The Pilot scoffs, “and what makes you say that?”

“Follow his gaze.”

Fall in love with someone kind.

---

Exactly As It Is

My Dearest,

Do you think I might’ve been able to love someone else if we had never met? That you might’ve been able to have loved me if I ever mustered up the courage to tell you how I felt?

Yours Truly

---

Hopes, Dreams and Wishes.

Such pretty words with such pretty meanings. Sure, the meanings are similar (if not synonymous with one another) but are still pretty. Pretty words with connotations beautiful enough to make one’s heart race.

Similar but nonetheless beautiful.

To want for something in such an innocent and passionate way. They were feelings every person felt at least once in their life and Thorfinn Karlsefni was no exception. Even now he had want for such things in life - for how can someone call themselves a living human without want?

On the other hand, in his youth, Thorfinn absolutely loathed the very idea of those kinds of things. He had them, yes, but he also loathed it.

Thought that the people who value such things in life were pathetic.

Beautiful but nonetheless pathetic.

Desires, Aspirations and Yearnings.

Instead, Thorfinn lived by the way of desires, aspirations and yearnings. The arguably more ‘mature’ way of viewing life. The food that was slightly more sour than it was sweet. The treats that were ever so slightly bitter because that was what his pallet enjoyed. Because that was what it meant to be an adult.

He, a loud and obnoxious child, hated the things that made him similar to the other children his age because he so desperately yearned to be an adult. But all children go through something similar, don’t they? Thorfinn did presently like to ponder that he wasn’t all that different from other children but now it seemed more like an ironic pipe dream than actual truth.

Pathetic but nonetheless true.

Thorfinn had always felt a strange yearning as he looked onto the sea. A familiar longing that felt almost foreign in his chest. The sound of the waves rushing up and down in the shore helped to soothe that feeling ever so slightly.

Slowly the waves rose higher and higher as the sun set - seemingly spurred on by the playful nature of the quickly approaching night.

Thorfinn’s shoes were wet.

He never did like getting his feet wet.

But he stayed there.

Letting the waves rise higher and higher - even pushing himself deeper into the water wanting to let himself be taken by the sea. Laying where the ocean meets the sand. Wanting to get sucked into the waves. Or buried in the sand.

Ah.

This is how he wanted to die.

Indulging in ambiguous truths that left one melancholy.

True but nonetheless lost.

And that’s where he met you.

Your gazes met then but neither of you had chosen to say anything, instead just blankly staring at one another and the sea. His heart raced dramatically. Pathetically.

Despite being dressed in pretty clothes and having your hair done up all nice and neat you laid down in the sand beside him, letting the water wash up over you and ruin your appearance.

Any sane person would’ve left Thorfinn be.

Any sane person would’ve left you alone.

And that’s how the two of you lay for a while.

Just staring off into the distance of the sunset until it was just him and you.

Him, you and the starry night sky.

Lost but nonetheless different.

        I saw you         With that ribbon in your hair         Think that I began to stare         Maybe I’ll love you for a while

The loud indistinct chatter and rattle of cutlery of the kitchen was muffled as the large heavy door shut behind Thorfinn. The young sue-chef didn't let out a deep sigh as he let himself relax at an empty table at the back of the restaurant. Usually they preferred for the staff to not sit in the restaurant while on their break but the store was empty today and no one ever sat at this table in the back anyways. It was used more by the servers to wrap silverware than for people to actually eat.

The active restaurant life was tough, rough and loud. But that was how he preferred things.

It was his normal.

It wasn’t as chaotic as his youth had been but was just as exciting. This is how Thorfinn wanted to live. He’s tired but complete.

He had tried to work a more mundane job at one point but it hadn’t turned out all too well. One misplaced important document and another bad call quickly led to Thorfinn being ‘let go’.

Oh well, it's not as if he cared all that much about that job in the first place.

“Yo,” you take a seat across from Thorfinn, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

You’re dressed simply today, a golden ribbon in your hair. Thorfinn thinks it brings out the golden flecks in your eyes. Or at least it makes it seem like there’s gold somewhere in your eyes. Perhaps that gold is the spark Askaladd used to refer to as the ‘it factor.’ The thing people needed if they wanted to make it big in the world.

Thorfinn thinks that Askaladd would’ve liked you.

Would’ve liked your spunk and playful demeanor. You somehow managed to simultaneously take everything both seriously and not seriously the same way Askaladd did. Knew what to say to make people do what you want them to. Especially though, you had that spark in your eyes that shouted out to the world that you were going to make a difference. Or at least do your best to try and make a difference.

Mostly though, Thorfinn thinks that Askaladd would have warned Thorfinn to stay away from the likes of you. He never cared much for the people that Thorfinn chose to surround himself with as long as they didn’t endanger Askaladd’s operation. Not that Thorfinn had many people he hung around in the first place. He was more of a lone wolf type. But certainly you would have been the kind of person he’d have wanted to avoid. Not because you hung around a bad crowd or attracted trouble but because you were secretive.

“(Y/n).” Your name feels soft coming from Thorfinn’s lips.

Softer than anything else he’s had the privilege of saying.

“How’re you doing?” You asked, leaning towards him.

“As well as I can be,” Thorfinn shrugs, “you?”

“Well,” you laugh playfully, “I’m doing well.”

Your laugh is pretty.

Everything about you is pretty.

Especially with that ribbon in your hair.

“What’re you doing here?” Thorfinn asked.

You smile teasingly, “don’t want me to visit you while you’re on break, Thorfinn?”

“What? I didn’t say that,” he looked down to his feet, “I was just… curious about why you decided to visit me. You don’t usually show up here.”

“Hm,” you tilt your head to the side cutely, “that’s a secret.”

You’re much too clever.

And it didn’t help that Thorfinn wasn’t all that good at reading people.

        A stranger at a table in a place         And a really pretty face         I wonder what happens when you smile

Thorfinn is surprised to see you still at the table waiting for him at the end of his shift. You’re sitting at the table scribbling something down on the back of a photograph you’d taken of him during his lunch break. Constantly looking between the words you’re writing down and the screen of your phone. Personally, Thorfinn imagines that it’d just be easier to copy and paste whatever it is you keep looking at (or just take a screenshot) but you never did like doing things the easy way.

He thinks you look awfully cute like this, with your loose hair falling in front of your face.

Wonders how it might feel if he were to push it back.

Be bets that your hair is soft. Most hair is soft, isn’t it? Well Thorfinn’s own hair isn’t all that soft but he imagines yours is.

When you look up your eye catches his own and Thorfinn notes how you practically beam up at him. It gives his heart a hopeful thumping sensation.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

You’re quick to gather your things before making your way up to Thorfinn, the ghost of a teasing smile playing on the edges of your lips, “any plans tonight?”

“Um,” Thorfinn’s cheeks flush involuntarily.

Well, he did have plans but they weren’t anything all too exciting. The game was on tonight and he did plan on watching that with some leftovers he’s bringing over from the restaurant but he would prefer to hang out with you.

Truthfully, he isn’t sure if it’s because he’s in love with you or if it’s plainly because he likes being around you but the fluttering in his heart pushes him more towards the former of those two statements. He doesn’t allow himself to ponder on it for too long though. Not when you’re so close to him. Not while you’re standing there for his answer with that pretty smile that he can never decline.

Thorfinn swallows, “no. Nothing important.”

“Would you maybe want to spend the evening with me?” You ask, your eyes peering curiously into his own.

“Where were you thinking of going?”

“A jazz club.”

Thorfinn makes a face.

“Oh, do you not like that kind of music?”

“It’s not that,” okay it is that, but you don’t need to know that. It’s not that Thorfinn dislikes Jazz music, it's that he isn’t a big music fan at all. He’s never cared all too much for the more melodic arts. Music was always seen as the finer things in life and Thorfinn was anything but. He much preferred the rattling of pots and pans to the pounding of a drum or strumming of guitar (and whatever other instruments there were).

Your eyes soften, “you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“But I-”

“We can do something else.”

Thorfinn’s heart does that fluttering thing again.

Even after all this time it still makes him feel like a green boy barely out of his teenage years. Which is anything but what he is now.

“No, that’s okay,” Thorfinn does his best to put on a brave face. For you. “Let’s go. What’s the worst that could happen?”

        I might never be your hero         Never been on to fight         That don’t mean that I can’t be your Valentine         I won’t be your savior either         Couldn’t even if I tried         But I think I could be someone you like         Someone you like

Thorfinn assumes that the worst is happening as he stares at the band on stage.

They’re out of sync with one another, struggling for dominance with one another. As far as Thorfinn can tell, there’s no symphony or rhythm. He doesn’t know much about music but he does know that this isn’t how it's supposed to sound.

You don’t seem all too taken by the music either. Instead fiddling around with your camera and looking around the crowd. It looks as if you’re looking for something among the crowd but for what Thorfinn isn’t too sure. But that’s just the way things are with you. There always seems to be something more. Where you’re just a breadths width away but a world apart.

And Thorfinn thinks that he might be fine with that.

Other more selfish men would have wanted more from you. Would yearn to be the one to get to stand beside you. To be the only one to be beside you but for Thorfinn this is enough. Just getting the chance to know you is enough for him.

Thorfinn is thankful when the song ends but the way that crowd cheers when the music's over tells him otherwise. They seem utterly entranced by the cacophony of sound that was just on stage. Seemingly taken by that brazen display of passion and song.

And you know what.

Thorfinn thinks that he likes it too.

If there was going to be a type of music that he did listen to, it would be jazz. It reaches deep into his soul and brings forth the feeling of what it means to be himself. A mismatch of parts from all over the world and brazenly who he is. Well, perhaps that was more like him when he was young but even Thorfinn knows that deep down he’s still a bold and outspoken man. Someone that’ll continue pushing forward for what he wants in life regardless of the obstacles thrown at him,

When Thorfinn turns to look at you (as he’s been doing all night) he notices that you’re actually already looking at him. You don’t look away (like any sensible person would do) and instead smile brightly. In response Thorfinn’s cheeks flush bright red in response.

“Have you ever been in love before?” You ask, leaning towards Thorfinn and brushing back a loose strand of his hair behind his ear.

Thorfinn blushes bright red, “why would you ask something like that?”

A part of Thorfinn thinks that you already know the answer to this question. That you’re only asking because you want to see how he might react. It certainly sounds like something you’d do.

Slowly but surely, over time, Thorfinn has managed to learn some things about you. Like how you always count to ten in the melody of ‘the ten duel commandments’ like how they do in Hamilton; or how you find amusement in the way other people make horribly wrong assumptions about you; and how you have a tendency to ask one thing while searching for the answer of another.

This moment clearly feels like one of those times.

After a while of silence you tilt your head to the side cutely, “so no?”

“Yes,” Thorfinn huffs, “I have.”

        Reading, in a coffee shop we share         Hiding shy behind my hair         Watching our movie in my mind

The next song being played is much better by all accounts of normal musical standards. Or at least by what Thorfinn assumes is musical standards. The instruments aren’t constantly trying to overpower one another and create a nice blend of something that Thorfinn could see playing in a restaurant much fancier than this one.

The people on stage look a little more presentable too. Their clothes match in style and the members of the band seem to move in sync with one another both on and off the stage. Such a pretty trio, Thorfinn thinks.

He thinks he heard someone in the crowd earlier mention that this trio is actually an up and coming band that occasionally pop up randomly and perform in open houses in hopes of growing a more natural connection with fans. If it’s true then Thorfinn respects the dedication. He imagines it’s much easier to grow popularity online than attempt to capture the hearts of people in person.

Another person in the crowd shouts out that this isn’t jazzy enough which seems to ignite something in the band members eyes as they suddenly kick it up a notch. The man playing the saxophone suddenly goes off on a run which challenges the piano and violin players to improvise to keep up. The piano is much more mellow while the violin playfully challenges the saxophone for center stage.

Thorfinn’s pretty sure that the person who shouted was you.

You’re turning out to be quite the trouble maker - seemingly very proud of yourself as you grin.

The melody becomes more jumpy, practically jumping off the walls. The crowd seems to be in agreement with you as their rumbling quiets ever so slightly in an attempt to better hear the music being played.

Thorfinn knows that the music has gone off the rails when the piano player finally takes charge of the song, practically slamming against the keys in a fiery passion that calms the violin and saxophone. It’s a scream for attention that has that spark in your eyes shining once again. It’s kind of similar to that look in your eye that you had when you first met Thorfinn.

This is what it must mean to spark.

If ‘Hopes’ were a person Thorfinn thinks that it would’ve been someone like the piano player. So willful and gentle yet brazenly strong. There is no certainty in the attitude of the piano player and what is Hope but the lack of certainty? And if the piano player is ‘Hopes’ then the saxophone player must be ‘Dreams’. A lively force of nature that spurs others forward. Everything one prays to be while simultaneously also being everything one prays to not be. And that would make the cello player ‘Wishes’. Constantly challenging that of ‘Dreams’ simply because it can. Simply because it refuses to be left behind. A glimpse into everything that could be.

“You think they’re good?” You asked, nudging Thorfinn lightly.

Thorfinn nods.

“Aren’t you happy you came?”

And he can’t exactly say he isn’t.

        I promise         Promise not to fly away         Make a story of today         Come on, give me a try

“It’s balmy out tonight.” Were the first words you said as you stepped out onto the street.

Thorfinn followed out after you.

Balmy.

Askaladd used that word sometimes. Thorfinn, being a five (maybe five? He wasn’t really sure) year old boy at the time didn’t know what the word meant. He obviously wouldn’t tell Askaladd that he didn’t know (he’d rather die) but he did find himself getting annoyed when the man used big fancy words. It was like his way of putting himself above Thorfinn without outright saying it.

Thorfinn, of course, figured out the meaning of the word on his own (Asking Askaladd’s right hand man) but not without some serious debating and consideration.

Balmy was an insult Askeladd often used when speaking about Thorfinn. Used it as a smart way to call Thorfinn crazy, mad and foolish. It was, of course, upsetting but warranted. Thorfinn really was all three of those things when he was young. Choosing to follow some crazy gang leader instead of choosing a comfortable life with his mother and sister. Even now one might consider him balmy. Choosing to live on the worse side of town and working a crazy lower paying job as a Sue chef.

Balmy.

Was the weather really foolish and eccentric?

Honestly, Thorfinn thought that the weather was kind of nice. It was a warm summer evening with an ever so gentle breeze that kept the humidity from being too much. Plus there weren’t that many clouds out which made it perfect weather to just sit outside and gaze up at the stars. Not that Thorfinn was a big fan of star gazing but he would admit that it would be very nice to be able to gaze up at the stars with you.

“The weather’s balmy?” Thorfinn raises an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Yeah,” you give him a curious smile, “as in pleasantly warm.”

“Oh.”

“What did you think I meant?”

Thorfinn blushes, “just something else.”

You tilt your head to the side curiously, “if you say so.”

You let it go. Thorfinn can tell from the way that your eyes wander ever so slightly to the right and the subtle rise in your shoulders. You have a tendency to let things like this go all the time. A secret sixth sense when you approach sensitive topics that Thorfinn might not want to talk about. He likes that about you.

Most people like to push. Let their curiosity lead the conversation rather than considering the feelings of others. For the most part it’s not a bad thing but Thorfinn likes that you don’t push. Likes that you won’t bring it up again unless he brings it up first.

“So, are you working tomorrow?” You ask as the two of you begin making your way back to Thorfinn’s home.

Thorfinn obviously thinks that the two of you should be walking to your home but he knows you’d refuse. That you prefer that the two of you walk to his home because it’s closer and because you can get a ride back to your own place if it’s really too late. Really though, Thorfinn thinks it’s because you like sleeping over at his place. Not that he can ever get you to admit that.

“No,” he shakes his head, “not tomorrow.”

“We should do something then.”

        I might never stop your sorrow         Fix you up as good as new         But that don’t mean that I can’t hold your hand in mine         I might never say I’m sorry         Even if I done you wrong         But I think I could be someone you like         Someone you like

“And what is it that you’re hoping to do?” Thorfinn asks.

“Spend time with you, obviously.”

You must know what you’re doing.

There’s no other explanation of how you’re able to make Thorfinn’s heart beat so dramatically. No other reason as to why you’re able to make him melt with a sentence that is seemingly so ‘obvious.’

You must find some sick perverse joy in his reactions.

He won’t call you out on that, of course, but he does wonder. Wonders all the time. Actually, he wonders about you most of the time. Wonders about your feelings and thoughts. Wonders about why you do the things you do. But mostly, he wonders if you would give him a serious chance if he asked you out. If you’ve ever given someone a serious chance before.

You wander ahead of him as the two of you walk back to his place. Stopping to look at the lake as the two of you cross over the bridge.

Thorfinn, who always chooses to walk exactly a step and a half slower than you, falls into place beside you as you grip on the edge of the railing and stare off into the distance.

You always do that when you walk over bridges, no matter how small.

Stop somewhere approximately in the middle before taking a step towards the ledge almost as if you’re walking a tightrope. Then your eyes close ever so slightly as you let the breeze (or lack of a breeze when there is none) hit your face, basking in this moment as if you have forever. Sometimes Thorfinn thinks you might. That you’re a supernatural being living here amongst the men on earth. Forever existing to bask in the brilliance that is life. But that idea is always as quickly scrapped as it appears because if there ever was a person to define what humanity was then it would be you. You and your pretty little camera as you stare off to the rest of the world - constantly pushing the boundaries of what it means to love the world around you. It’s brilliant.

You’re brilliant.

It’s beautiful out tonight here on the bridge. The stars twinkling far up in the sky. Like wishes which have already been completed. There to remind everyone that sometimes the impossible is only impossible because you believe it to be impossible.

It really is such a beautiful night to watch the stars.

“Have you ever been in love before?” Thorfinn asks, turning to look at you and pushing your hair behind your ear.

You smile, “of course.”

And that’s the answer Thorfinn is expecting. The answer that warms his heart. Maybe that person isn’t him. Maybe it is. But the very confirmation that you have been in love is enough for him. You look at this world too gently to not have loved before.

If there’s anyone this world loves, it must be you.

If Thorfinn were a braver man he likely would have leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. Me might’ve even been brave enough to tell you that he loves you. Tell you that you’re the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

Instead he looks away from you bashfully and looks off into the distance.

        I might never be your hero         But I think I’d like to try         And the way you look at me is your reply         You got a lot to learn about me         Maybe you could start tonight         ‘Cause I think I could be someone you like         Someone you like

‘SNAP!’

The sound of your camera going off startles him. Not as much as it did back when you first started taking photos of him but still startles him nonetheless. There was even one time when he smacked your camera out of his hands, he was so startled. You had, of course forgiven him, but only after he promised to be one of your Muses. Whatever that meant.

You were a super famous photographer or something. Thorfinn wasn’t all too sure.

There were people that walked along the street that would come up to you and ask for signatures sometimes that held validity to your claim but Thorfinn would’ve believed you regardless. He believes almost anything you tell him.

“I think that’s the last one.” You say softly.

Thorfinn tilts his head to the side curiously, a mannerism he’s picked up from spending so much time with you, “the last photo of me you take?”

“Mhm.”

His heart drops at that.

He isn’t all too sure why.

It’s a good thing, isn’t it? That you’re done? You’ve been talking to him about the deadline your manager set for your latest photo collection. You did complain that she was working you too hard but you always smiled so brightly. Thorfinn had tried to offer you some help but there was little he could do when it came to your work. There wasn’t much he knew in the first place. Back then you had smiled in a way similar to how you do now. A warm smile that feels almost bittersweet.

“Why did you pick me?” Thorfinn asks, “why did you pick me to be one of your Muses?”

“Because I like you.” You say, giving him that cheeky smile.

“Is that all?”

You pout, “what do you mean, ‘is that all?’”

This time, Thorfinn decides to be the one to tease you, “what would you have done if I refused to be one of your muses?”

“Getting to be around would have been enough for me.”

Thorfinn smiles, “you’re so pretty, (Y/n). Getting to be around you was enough for me to”

You were also so different from Thorfinn. So warm to and magnetic to the people around you. So adept at understanding the feelings of others. So attuned to everything around you in a way that that made his heart race.

So it surprised him when you looked away, your cheeks hot.

Different but nonetheless similar.

Fall in love with someone familiar.

---

Song: Someone You Like Artist: The Girl and The Dreamcatcher

---

Him: Of course I do.

[weednextdoorr]

there aren’t enough johnny n thorfinn fanfics n it’s mentally n physically hurting me

[4seasonsofart]

Thinking about Thorfinn in a self-aware AU He's aware that his life is nothing more than a set of written instructions. Each volume has him doing the same thing. So why not make it a little special for you? After all, he has seen how much you enjoy the story, the fan fiction, and the edits.

Thorfinn occasionally changes lines in the story just to keep you interested. Each time you reread the page, the dialog changes. Did you just read your name? No, you must be making things up in your mind.

He finds himself on the digital version of the manga on your phone, so he plays around with your contacts and apps. You may not be able to text that toxic person anymore because he permanently blocked their IP from your phone. He may place ads where you can see them and try to interact with you for a moment. Thorfinn is just curious about who you are; he wants to know more.

S1 Thorfinn will immediately make it clear to you that he knows he is in a story. He will kill Askeladd page upon page if that's what it takes to show you the truth. He's in his world, but also yours.

Farm Arc Thorfinn will occasionally smile in the manga towards you. Some of his will to live comes back, as you haven't abandoned him. He is just a story, and you are the willing reader. You may find a rose on one page that he plucked just for you.

Beyond the Farm Arc Thorfinn is much more methodical in how he acts. He won't be brash or change the story in such a large way that you can tell. He will manipulate the written words to cheer you up after a bad day or give you advice. He will be like the wise older brother who is always there.

Just don't stop reading or enjoying the story. You wouldn't want to make Thorfinn upset, would you?