#viking
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#classic hollywood#ahs#in a heartbeat#marriage#viking#moonbyul#healthy recipe#bees#flowey#whatsapp#the darkling#thai bl
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#viking#moonbyul#healthy recipe#bees#flowey#whatsapp#the darkling#thai bl#breath of the wild#digital painting#witches of tumblr#绿奴#kavetham
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viking!konig × female!villager!reader
warnings: smut, +18, possesive!konig, breeding kink, kidnapping, mentions of rape and virginity!!
Viking!Konig who, along with his warriors, disembark in a small village located by the sea. Dressed in animal skins, swords and armor, they enter the village to loot and destroy everything within their reach.
It is then that he manages to spot a small house at the top of a small mountain, not far from all the others. Upon reaching the field, he notices a female figure coming out of the small garden with a basket of tomatoes. It was you, dressed in a long white skirt, a beige shirt and a scarf around your head. You look like an angel fallen from heaven, so harmonious and calm, totally different from Konig's rude figure.
It doesn't take you long to notice that tall, burly man at the entrance to your home, who seems anything but pleasant. You recognize their clothing and the bad intentions that characterized the vikingos. An expression of terror was marked on your face and you immediately ran into your home, shouting your father's name and without letting go of the basket of tomatoes.
Konig's stomach twisted in a feeling of excitement at your reaction, feeling powerful at the fear of the rest of the people seeing him. With his long, muscular legs, he followed your steps to the interior of the home where a series of murmurs welcomed him.
In the humble living room there was an adult couple who looked somewhat sick and next to them was you, who covered 2 small children no more than 6 years old with your body. Konig was tall and in good shape compared to your family, who apparently barely had enough to eat.
"Please, don't hurt us.." sobbed your mother, who brought her skinny hands to her chest, begging.
"We don't have anything valuable, you can check for yourself." Your father spoke now, pointing around you. Konig began to walk around the room, observing everything around him and verifying that there was nothing there that would be useful to him. "The only thing we can offer him are vegetables and fruits from our garden. Daughter, give him the basket of tomatoes!" Your father ordered, hoping that Konig would agree and leave as soon as possible.
You stepped forward timidly and held out the basket with the tomatoes to him, taking a distance and with your hands trembling. Konig looked down at you, smiling slightly at your fear and how you couldn't maintain eye contact with his cold blue eyes. He reached his hand to the basket and took a tomato, it had a good size and color. Without thinking he brought it to his mouth and tasted a little of it, not caring how the juice fell from his lips to his bushy beard.
"And then? What do you think? If you want, you can take the whole basket, it's all yours!" Your father insisted.
To tell the truth, that tomato was delicious but you were even more so. "I'll take everything from the garden... And your daughter too." Konig spoke for the first time, generating a shiver throughout your body.
"No problem. Girl, put on some shoes and go!" Your father spoke coldly, capable of doing everything possible to defend his family, even if it meant giving you away to an unknown Viking.
You sobbed and screamed that they wouldn't let you leave with him, with Konig, but your father did nothing but raise his voice even more and even try to hit you. Your mother and your brothers cried in silence, observing the situation with sadness but without intervening on your behalf. The decision was already made, you were now Konig's property.
It was widely said that the Vikings came to the villages not only to plunder but also to rape their women and then return to their more 'relaxed' ways. Luckily for you, or not, that had not been the case for you. No, Konig didn't just see you as a hole to fill with his powerful semen. But as his property, as something to take care of and defend from the other Vikings who had no intention of formalizing with any woman. He wanted to be the only one with something to fight for and stay alive. And, soon, with whom to form a small family of warriors.
During the short time you had to gather your few things, your father took it upon himself to inform Konig of all the good things you had to offer. You knew how to wash, cook, heal, and, best of all, you were a virgin. That last one excited Konig even more, who was excited by the idea of being the first (and only) to be between your legs.
You boarded a large ship with your wrists handcuffed to prevent you from escaping and an old cloth bag with some items of clothing. According to Konig, none of that would help you in the cold climate of traveling over the sea, plus he wanted you not to wear underwear.
"Look guys! Konig brought us this sweetness to share!" one of the Vikings exclaimed, making all the men's hungry gazes turn towards you. You sobbed at the idea of having to serve as a sexual slave for all those scary Vikings but that idea quickly disappeared when you noticed how Konig approached the man and growled: "don't go near her." Reporting that you were not a common asset to the crew, but his alone.
That same night you slept next to Konig in a more exclusive room than the rest of the men, who all slept in the same crowded place. You noticed that he had a higher rank than the rest, therefore you had certain advantages over the others. Luckily for you, Konig explored your body externally, caressing your breasts, ass and pussy but without trying anything else.
The weeks passed and with them you managed to get used to the lifestyle of those men. Konig had already warned everyone about your exclusivity only with him, so no one ever tried anything with you. Your routine was based on washing and cooking Konig's clothes, cleaning his war wounds and cooking for him and his men. During the nights, you only had to be in charge of helping him bathe and dress the times when he arrived very exhausted, then both of you would just lie down and sleep.
Inevitably you managed to appreciate him and desire the closeness of that massive man. Konig, for his part, also wanted you, demonstrating it in the way that during the night he would rest his big erection against your ass, or how he would sit you on his lap and take advantage of the movements of the boat to obtain a pleasurable friction.
That night, the sexual tension between the two was unsustainable and it didn't take long for both of them to achieve what they had longed for. Due to your tightness and the large size of Konig's member, his first thrusts were painful and uncomfortable. However, he took care of reducing your disagreement by sucking and biting your breasts.
"My little wife- ah I love your breasts and how tight you are.." Konig growled, bringing his hands to your hips, using you as his personal fleshlight.
Slowly, his long and thick cock entered completely inside of you, feeling a sensation of simultaneous pain and pleasure. His hot breath and masculine scent made your walls wrap even tighter around him, causing him to moan loudly.
"Mine, only mine. This pussy belongs to me, your breasts belong to me, you belong to me completely..." he murmured, bringing his mouth to your ear and lightly biting your lobe.
His thrusts increased along with his grunts, you sobbed with pleasure at the way his hair pubes touched your clit. "Konig- I want more.." you stammered, not quite able to formulate words.
"Huh? You want my cum? You want me to fill you up inside?" He asked as his pace became more clumsy, announcing that he was about to finish.
And so he did, filling your entire interior with his powerful semen that, after 9 months later, took shape into 2 chubby and healthy warriors.
#cod smut#cod#cod x reader#konig smut#konig cod#konig x reader#konig call of duty#viking!konig#cod fanfic#konig fanfiction#viking#cod fic#call of duty#call of duty smut
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The Viking Age ring with the Arabic inscription
“for Allah” The Birka Ring
Featuring a pink-violet colored stone with an inscription that reads “for Allah” or “to Allah,” the silver ring was found during the 1872-1895 excavations of grave fields at the Viking age trading center of Birka, some 15.5 miles west of Stockholm.
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I’ve been rewatching HTTYD and Astrid is my beloved as always ⚔️🛡️
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A Viking is just as dangerous on the boat as in the water….
Happy Maudmay! Mermaud? Mermaudmay??? Anyway. It’s Maud!
Pt 1/ Pt 2 with dear Caliban mermified
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All the (completed at last) How To Train Your Dragon illustrations I made for uni!
#i never posted the finished versions#these took so LONG#but i love the shepherd and dragon washing day the best#how to train your dragon#httyd#viking#httyd hiccup#my art
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Ever seen a Viking biking?!
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La da de da viking Price for the win🛡️🌺
Your heavy snow boots trudged through the thick mounds of pure white snow, the freezing breeze was pinching and nipping at your cheeks. The cold had began to hurt your nose as you breathed, the back of your throat dry. Trying your hardest to keep warm, you shove your chin and mouth further into the top of your coat and breathe out hot air.
You only wanted to hunt for food and go back home, but seeing as you couldn’t find any animals near your little cabin, you had to venture elsewhere for the hunt. Something you annoyingly regretted the further away from home you got.
An exaggerated sigh left you for the twentieth time today as you knelt down on the ground feeling the snow start to soak into the material of your trousers. Pulling your bow off of your body and an arrow from the quiver that was strapped to your back. You drew back the string of your bow, holding the arrow steadily in place.
Closing your eyes, you waited. Listening oh so carefully, for anything. The sound of any animal to make itself known to you. A while passed, all you could hear was the soft wind and a nearby steam trickling quietly.
Until the snort of a deer had your eyes shooting open and your weapon aiming at the creature. Exhaling slowly, you let go, the arrow whipping through the air heading straight for the unknowing animal but ultimately hitting a different target. A huge gasp left you as you watched the arrow go straight into the chest of a man, the deer snorted before running off.
You grunted annoyed and dropped everything to run to the injured man. Your eyes set upon his figure. Large and strong, you recon if you’d hit anywhere else on him that’d he probably wouldn’t have collapsed. Probably would have grabbed the end of the arrow with his big sturdy hands and pulled it straight out like nothing happened. Probably.
The realisation started to set in the more you stared at him, you just shot a man. “Oh my, I’m…I’m so sorry!” You panicked falling to your knees next to him where he was on the ground. His blue eyes meeting yours, looking at you as though you were an alien. His nostrils flared as he quietly grunted, feeling the pain begin to spread throughout his chest and body.
“I was hunting and….and you…y-you stepped in front of the deer. I’m so sorry.” Your hands hovers over his injured while your mind began to become frantic with how to proceed. You eyed the expensive leather that graced his bulky figure. Wrapping around every muscle eagerly. The fur cloak that was spread around him, clearly from a hunt.
It did little to hide the tattoos on his arms. Further up chainmail covered his shoulders proving how sharp you’d made your arrows for it to pierce the chainmail that presumably sat below his tunic and leather. You took note of his face better now, thin lips almost covered by a bushy moustache all connected with thick mutton chops and a full, long beard that caught your attention a little too much.
“Are ya’ done ogling me lass?” He gritted his teeth, wrapping his hand around the arrow and yanking it out. He groaned loudly, deep and rough just like his voice when he spoke. It sent shivers through your body in an unholy way. Nothing like you’d ever felt before.
“Are you a royal from the mainland?” You asked, worry underlining your question.
He bellowed at that, “Ne’er erd’ that one before.” His laugh trailed off as he pressed his fingers into his wound and pulled them away watching the blood drip down his hand.
“My bag.” He was gesturing to the bag that lay a few meters over from where he was. You scrambled to grab it, desperately trying to pull it open. The leather satchel was medium size with about a hundred strings tying it shut.
“W-What do you need?” You were stumbling over your words as you took noticed of the blood that was seeping out of his wound and staining the snow beneath him.
The man grabbed your shaky hands in his and whispered “Breathe.” You listened hesitantly, taking a deep breath.
“Y’know I think I’m supposed to be reassuring you.” A breathless laugh leaving you sounding more like a scoff, he let out a chuckle his face scrunching up in pain.
“In the bag, the bottle with the red liquid.” Nodding quickly, you searched through the bag and pulled out the bottle, pulling the cork out with your teeth and looking at him for instructions. He took the glass container and poured it over his wound and drank the rest of it.
You watched as his heavy panting of pain began to level out. He soon sat up and looked at you curiously, “I’ve ne’er seen ye round these parts before.” He states though you’re pretty sure it was a question, you simply shrug and stand up. He followed suit, a shock jolting through you when he stands only to tower over you greatly.
“I, um really am sorry. It truly was an accident.” You wring your hands together before offering one of them to him. He looks surprised and you don’t blame him, you’re sure a woman has never made this gesture to him before.
“Svo fallegt,” he seemed to look over you for a moment then let his large hand wrap itself around yours with a shake, “S’okay.”You nodded letting go of his grip and making your way to pick up your bow and quiver.
“What’s ya name?” He asked suddenly feeling a wave of panic as he watched you walking away from him. You answered, waiting for his in return. “Price. John Price.”
Now where had you heard that name before?
#squishycheekanon#Viking!price#viking#viking King#john price x y/n#captain john price x you#captain johnathan price#captain john price x reader#john price x oc#john price x reader#captain john price#john price#captain price x reader#price smut#price x reader#cod price#captain price#price#captain price x reader smut#captain price smut#captain price x female reader#captain price x y/n#captain price x you#call of duty smut#call of duty#cod fluff#cod smut#cod fanfic#john price x you#price x you
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People don't realize how liminal it is to be a time traveler. How you don't ever really feel like you're in the time you are. Even when you're in your own time, everything is off, your coat was something you bought in interwar France, the book you're reading on the train is from a bookstore you had to visit in Victorian London, even your necklace was given to you by a Neolithic shaman, from a culture the rest of the world can never know. You find yourself acting strange even when in the present, much less in the past you have to work in.
You remember meeting a eunuch in 10th century China, and having him be one of the only people smart and observant enough to realize you were from a diffrent time. You could talk honestly with him, though still you couldn't reveal too much about your time. And it was still so strange hearing him talk casually about work and mention plotting assassinations. You're not allowed to but you still visit him sometimes.
You remember that the few times you were allowed to tell someone everything it was tragic. You knew a young woman who lived in Pompeii, who you had gotten close to, a few days before she would inevitably die. On your last day there you looked into her eyes, knowing soon they'd be stone and ash, that the beauty of her hair would be washed away by burning magma. And you hugged her, and told her that you wanted her to be safe, and told her she was wonderful and that you wanted her to be comfortable and happy. And you let her tongue know the joy of 21st century chocolate, and her eyes see the beauty of animation, knowing she deserved to have those joys, knowing it wouldn't matter soon. And you hugged her the last time, and told her she deserved happiness. And when you left without taking her it was like you were killing her yourself.
You want to take home everyone you're attached to. There's a college student you befriended in eighteen fifties Boston. And you can't help but see him try to solve problems you know humanity is centuries away from solving. And you just want to tell him. And it's not just that, the way he talked about the books and plays he likes, his sense of humor. There's so many people you want him to meet.
You feel the same way about a young woman you met on a viking age longship. She tells stories to her fellow warriors and traders, stories that will never fully get written down, stories that she tells so uniquely and so well. She has so many great ideas. You want so dearly to take her to somewhere she can share her stories, or where she can take classes with other writers, where she can be somewhere safe instead of being out at sea. She'll talk about wanting to be able to do something, or meet people, and you know you're so close to being able to take her, but you never can, unless she accidently finds out way too much then you can't.
You remember the longship that you met that young storyteller on. You were there before, two years ago for you, ten years later for the people on it. The young woman who told you stories wasn't there ten years later, you had been told why then but you only realize now, her uncle, who ran the ship, had been one of the first people to convert to Christianity in his nation. He killed her, either for not converting or for sleeping with women, you're not sure, but he killed her, and bragged about it when you met him ten years later.
You talk to the storyteller on the longship, ask her about the myths you're there to ask her about, the myths that she loves to tell. You look into her eyes knowing it's probably less then a year until her uncle takes her life. You ask her if you think that those who die of murder go to Valhalla. She tells you she hopes not, she doesn't see Valhalla as a gift but as a duty, she hopes for herself to go to Hel, where she wouldn't have to fight anymore. You slip and admit you're talking about her, telling her that you hope that's where she goes when she's killed. You hope to yourself you'll be forced to take her to the twenty first century, you're tempted even to make it worse, you want to have ruined her enough to be able to save her.
#196#my thougts#worldbuilding#writing#my worldbuilding#my writing#urban fantasy#ancient history#history#short fiction#short story#original fiction#flash fiction#viking#viking age#norse mythology#ancient rome#pompeii#science fantasy#science fiction#sci fi#scifi#queer#queer history
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Slay
Little Ulfheðnar inspired piece and wanting to try out some dotwork :)
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Остерегайтесь силы молодости в песчаном эквиваленте!
Beware of the power of youth in the sandy equivalent!
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Tracing Tattoos
Imagine:
Being in bed with a sleeping ivar and slowly tracing his tattoos, your finger tips grazing his skin leaving a trail of goosebumps, your touch slowly makes him stir in his sleep.
"Hm that feels good my love but I'd prefer if your hands scratching my back as I fuck you making you squirm and scream my name letting the village know your mine"
#viking#vikings netflix#vikings series#vikings x reader#vikings x reader smut#vikings imagine#vikings#vikings ivar#vikings smut imagine#vikings smut#ivar the boneless#ivar ragnarsson#ivar x reader#ivar x reader smut#ivar smut imagine#ivar x reader smut imagine
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So Viking!Soap... with blue war paints streaking across his left eye, leather and fur war kilt (because he's 🏴🏴🏴), and battle axe
You guys see my vision right? I mean Viking!Simon Riley certainly does.
Viking!Ghost... with a sheep skull war-mask, he wears thick, dark furs under his pauldrons and leather gauntlets, ulfberht sword he made himself at his side at all times
You- you guys see my vision right?
#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#soapghost#ghostsoap#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#viking#viking au#viking!Soap#viking!Ghost#el rambles
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