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kurogxrix · 5 months

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Stomach Empty, Heart Full

Viking!Bucky x Wife!reader

IN WHICH you’re sick and refuse to eat, but it’s nothing that your beefy husband Bucky can’t help with.

WC: 2.5k

Warnings: vague mentions of smut, mentions of puke, beefy!bucky, INACCURATE VIKING UNITS, pregnancy(?).

A/N: my mom is the BIGGEST viking fan and yet idk anything abt em so…yes everything about this is inaccurate. From their beds to their huts but it’s fiction so who CARES.

A huge campfire was bustling outside your hut, that you knew. The sounds of men and women alongside their noisy children made the headache currently gnawing at your head just about 10 times worse. You’d been lying sick since this morning and if you were being honest with yourself, all you craved was for a good sip of water alongside the company of your dear husband.

Talking of, Bucky had been gone for far too long now. Even though he’d just gone on his regular routine as a fellow warrior, it helped that they’d only gone out to hunt that morning.

You suddenly winced as the high pitched wail of a kid adventuring far too close to your hut breached your ear drums, and from the thud that you’d heard a split second before, he’d taken a nasty fall to himself. It didn’t help that his father had chosen the front of your hut opening to reprimand his son, the headache feeling like it would burst out from your head and carve a hole through your skin at any moment now.

You couldn’t tell what sort of sickness you’d picked up on, but hell if you wouldn’t give up anything in your possession in that instant for an ounce of relief. Your stomach yelled at you for food, but the ache in your head only increased the growing nausea that came with your illness. You were sure that once you’d be healed and back on your feet, you’d kill whichever scum had passed on their bug to you.

Comfort only came as you curled over yourself, soft blankets warming you, the stitches and patches of soft furs from all sorts of animals that Bucky had hunted and skinned for you. You missed your husband so, so much more in your sick haze. Your eyes finally started to droop as you felt your body giving in to slumber, which was hard prior to the insane pounding at the far back of your head.

It didn’t take long for your vision to darken, your rumbling stomach being the furthest of your worries as a faint smile overtook your features as you felt the headache begin to dissipate as sleep pulled you in its arms. You could almost taste it, the sweet and victorious taste of relief, when-

“You are not joining us tonight?” And there it was, the pounding in your head almost immediately punched back to life at the loud sound of whoever that was that had breached your hut. You groaned in dismay, turning around reluctantly to find your sister looking at you in confusion. It didn’t help with the fact that she was your sibling, but at that instant you wanted nothing more than to rip her hairs straight from the root and craft yourself a rag doll with them out of spite.

“Get out.” you mumbled before rolling back, not missing the way her eyebrows furrowed at your rudeness. You’d treat her a little better if you felt a little better, but you didn’t, and to add to that the only person that you wanted with you right now was probably fighting off whatever beast was hiding in the forest.

She did, however, listen to you for what felt like the first time in your entire life as sisters. A content sigh left your lips at the newfound silence, as silent as it could be with a meal in preparation happening outside. Finally, you felt the warm arms of slumber welcoming you again in the embrace that you seeked so much, and it felt a little too good to be true. Maybe because you had a knack for jinxing yourself, but the sound of the hut door creaking again had you close to tears.

The sound of metal colliding against the floor however, gave you a brief idea that it was in fact not your sister. You didn’t have it in you to greet your husband, instead choosing to wallow in your pain as you held yourself like a dying child. You didn’t hear much from Bucky but the rustling of something that sounded big and meaty, probably a catch that he’d brought home to skin later.

On his side, Bucky was confused as to why you weren’t outside with the other people. It wasn’t that you didn’t know that the feast had arrived, and if you’d fallen asleep, the doubling in noise would’ve surely awakened even the deafest foe. He contemplated waking you up before his blue eyes fell upon the bucket of water by the door, as full as it was before he’d left home that morning.

With his eyebrow furrowed, Bucky kneeled beside you in all of his silence. You could hear the trinkets attached to his belt clanking against one another, his booted feet causing a heavy thud against the floor.

“You haven’t drunk, you haven’t eaten.” he stated as a matter of fact, and your undying silence threw him off. He’d been your husband long enough to know that you weren’t sleeping, eyelids shut as a decoy more than anything. The beefy brunette sighed at your actions, eyes flickering between the abandoned wooden plate that harboured his food, waiting for him in all of its loneliness. The cut of meat had his mouth salivating for a taste, after all he had been gone all day to bring back food for his people, why shouldn’t he enjoy it?

Yet, he just couldn’t get himself to as he eyed your curled figure. There must’ve been a reason why you hadn’t bothered to take care of yourself today, of course there must’ve been one, and as your husband - it was all the more his duty to care for you. There was no resentment or obligations in his actions, only love.

One of Bucky’s palms slid under your cheek, disconnecting your face from its warm place upon the layers of furs. You whined in dismay, but Bucky didn’t falter. His huge palm covered half of your face, his thumb rubbing at your cheek with inclination. You felt your body relax once more as he slowly let go, as much as you’d normally complain, this time you felt happy as your cheek made contact with the blanket once more.

Your peace didn't last long, not when you had a burly husband who had enough force to take down a 300 pound beast on his own. You gasped suddenly as you felt his arms wrapping themselves around you, before pulling you into the warmth of a familiar torso. You wasted no time getting comfortable, you head pushing impossibly further into the firm flesh of his chest to serve as a pillow. It didn’t faze Bucky, blue iris simply gazing down at your slithering form.

“You haven’t eaten today,” he states again, and this time you’d actually taken the courage to look up at him, eyelids pushing away from each other painfully slowly as you tried to adjust to the dim light of the oil lamps burning by the side of the hut. You could feel his warm palm slowly inching itself into caressing your back through the material of your dress, the beaded necklace that you wore squished between the both your bodies.

Bucky didn’t ask, he could tell that you were ill and you had no intentions of talking if you didn’t feel well. So he did what he could, a hand digging into the meat in his plate to rip a fat piece off. You watched in dismay as his hands dragged to your mouth, pausing before you closed lips as you refused him access.

“You’ll be even more ill if you don’t eat, come on.” his gruffly voice sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the ends of his long, auburn hair tickling your cheeks as the wind whistled past the cracks of your shared hut. Your nose involuntarily scrunched at the smell of the meat before you, which you normally loved like all people in your village. Bucky took notice of your discomfort, lowering his hand slightly to prevent you from puking all over him and the place.

You made a sound of frustration, sick and tired of being sick and tired. You simply wanted to eat and all the more drink but your body just wouldn’t let you do any of it. So sick that tears pricked at your waterline again, resurfacing the throbbing headache that'd been killing you since this morning.

You couldn’t even have told when the sob had burst through your mouth, but it had apparently and it didn’t fail to startle the hulk of a man you were lucky to call your husband. In a split second, the food was dropped back in the discarded plate, and his hands were quick to carelessly wipe clean against his cloak with little to no care for it.

Bucky’s heart was hardened from the series of events that’d turmoiled his life from his birth, being a viking was anything but easy. He’d bathed in blood, his own like not, he was scarred mentally just as physically. Yet, he was fierce with a shell as hard as rock to carry his sorrows in. Despite all, nothing hurt Bucky like seeing you upset, or even worse in this scenario, hurt.

Cradling your head to his chest, he tilted your head softly towards his own as you cried upon his chest. It was weird seeing a woman such as yourself cry over something that couldn’t be seen, yet enough described because your words wouldn’t even allow you to. So to say that Bucky was worried was an understatement, you’d never cried over something so minor, best to deduct that it wasn’t.

“I’ll go and fetch the lach, better hope that Thyra has the herbs to fix you a remedy.” he spoke more to himself than to you, referring to the village healer. You didn’t want him to go though, you’d spent enough time on this miserable day away from the only man you’d wish to see, so you weren’t about to let him go.

“No, I can handle it until daytime. I just want to eat…I’ll try the meat again.” Bucky looked down at you in hesitance, remembering the way you looked so sick at the approach of his food. Nevertheless, he brought the food back up to your mouth, and you had to fight the inner battle to not throw up now and then. He could see your struggles, yet he only focused on your determination.

You chewed slowly so as to not upset your stomach further, giving Bucky the time he needed for him to get a taste of his own meal as well. Sure, the cut was barely enough for a man of his size but at least he’d get you to eat, he could always go out and get some more once you were satiated. His hand that wasn’t busy feeding the both of you was still glued to your back, keeping you flushed against his chest as he sat legs crossed amongst the many blankets.

You couldn’t help with the way your heart soared at his worry, at his care, and at his love. Sure he wasn’t the most verbally expressive man, but his actions meant more to you than any I-Love-Yous. The way his fingers curled against your side as a measure of extreme protection had you weak in the knees, and that said a lot considering you weren’t even standing.

By the time you’d both exhausted whatever food was on his plate, Bucky’s skilled hand worked for water. Grabbing a cup from the side, he sought water from the bucket by your front door. He took a drink first, draining the cup in two quick gulps. You watched as he served himself another cup, a drop of water dribbling past his beardy chin and onto the defined curve of his Adam's apple.

Fuck and if he didn’t just look so hot, you’d really gotten the finest pick of all men in your village. You lifted an unsuspecting hand up to his cheek, the prickly feeling of his beard against your palm made a shiver run down your spine. So much for all the days he’d spent buried between your legs, you felt a ghost of the burn you’d feel on your inner thighs at the friction everytime.

The sounds of water sloshing around brought you out of your daydreams, finally receiving the end of the cup as he lifted the edge to your lips. You liked everything about this, getting pampered while laying in your husband's arms. You couldn’t possibly have gotten two sips down your throat before-

“Maybe I should call the midwife to check on you tomorrow.” Bucky randomly blurted out, and you swore you’d never accidently taken a gulp of water this big before. The choking came first, then the excessive coughing fits before the headache resurfaced again. Now maybe you’d rethought everything, maybe you didn’t want to spend the rest of the night with Bucky anymore.

His hands quickly abandoned the cup to rub at your back, some silent apology of some sorts for surprising you, and eventually causing you to choke.

“You don’t think…” you looked up at your husband after you had calmed down, expectant baby blue iris staring right back at yours. Your lips were slightly parted in the confoundment of his words, you found yourself unable to speak past your sentence. You didn’t know any contraceptives further than a remedy of herbs, spells and whatnot the untrustworthy pull-out method. Yet even if Bucky had been very obedient when it came to following that way, there were some days where he just couldn’t help himself.

His silence made you sigh to yourself, but you didn’t feel like speaking further yourself. The hut fell into a peaceful silence as you both wallowed in the other's presence, soaking each other's affection through soft touches and occasional prayers.You closed your eyes once more for the night, allowing yourself to fully sink into your husband’s burly arms.

Bucky didn’t complain, waiting for your shoulders to fall limp in indication that you’d finally submitted to the slumber you so craved. Now that you were sleeping, tucked and fed, he could finally go out and reach for a serving more appropriate for a man of his size. Though he staggered for a second, kneeling besides your sleeping form along the blankets that he’d arranged over you.

He moved the blanket properly after noticing that you’d already managed to mess up the ‘bed’ despite being dreams deep into your sleep. Bucky allowed his hand to hover over your stomach, before providing extra heat to the area that crossed his palm. He watched as your lips twitched into a smile in your sleep, his thumb uncontrollably caressing at the clothed area at the sight of your delight.

A rare smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips, something that only you and his family had gotten to experience more often. His hand left your stomach as he rose to his feet, a distant dream of an infant swaddled by green cloth burning by the back of his mind. He didn’t turn back as he left the tent, stomach empty but heart full.

i’m working on 2 requests rn but i’ll be busy all weekend so expect a fic by next friday‼️

#IM SO TIRED!#sped ran this fanfic i’m so sorry #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #viking!bucky #viking!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #husband!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x wife!reader #husband!bucky #bucky barnes oneshot

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miguel-owhora · 2 months

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back on my viking au bullshit, but im changing it so gaz is your first - and willing - wife :3 his story is that he's the son of this nobleman in this village that you raided. at first you try to get his sister, but his father - and fuck that guy btw - trades gaz for her, and you find gaz way more prettier and happily accept.

at first gaz thinks you're cruel and a brute, that you'll hurt him and shit, and, well, he's not entirely wrong. you didn't become leader by being soft and kind, and though you can be rough amd temperamental at times, you make it a point to try and listen to gaz and respect his boundaries half of the time. that, along with delivering pretty objects to him from your latest raids, earn his affection and he becomes used to being your pretty wife, and eventually becomes numb to all the violence you bring if it means to keep your people strong and wife safe.

your latest gift surprises gaz. three men, all equally pretty and part of the british army, bounded and brought to him as gifts. gaz isn't you, he doesn't like how many people at your hands, but he usually ignores it because he's not there to witness it. but this time, these men's lives depend on him, and despite him not wanting any pets (as you call them) he accepts just to spare them of their deaths. that, and, well, it gets lonely at times when you're off on a mission overseas. maybe they can keep him company...

#mr. o'whora's works !#MEOW #viking!mreader and his pretty wife gaz #hgmgjf #and their three pets price johnny n simon

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witchthewriter · 15 days

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𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: knife flirting, a bit nsfw but not much

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Neutral Good or Lawful Good

Capricorn Sun, Cancer Moon, Libra Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・I'm going to be completely honest. He hated the thought of you going into battle, or going near any sort of danger.

・He was your protector, he was the one to make sure you were okay, that you were safe.

・But you wanted to be able to keep yourself safe, as well as anyone else that needed your help

・Uhtred was enamored by you; not only did you have the attitude of a warrior, but you could pull almost anything off.

"If you don't marry her Leofric, I definitely will."

・That earned a slap on the back of the head to the Dane/Saxon

・But that did bring on a whole lot of insecurities for Leofric. He definitely thought he wasn't good enough for you. That he wasn't good looking enough. Didn't have the right social standing for you.

・For a long time you thought he didn't like you

・However, you were used to it, with being a warrior woman

・Men felt emasculated by you. Even by looking at you. You didn't wear skirts.

・This, this, this , this and this were/are your daily attire. Depending on your day and what is going on etc.

・Leofric is a very sweet man. Well, he is to you. There's nothing he will deny you.

・Honestly, this man goes along with whatever you say (mostly to keep you out of trouble).

・He smiles a lot more when he's around you. Uhtred brought it up once; it was that moment that Leofric realised he was truly in love with you.

・Uhtred is your best friend. You bicker with each other every time you're together.

・Leofric kept himself from you for a long time because he thought you were with Uhtred. That you were 'his woman.'

・When you heard that you choked on your ale.

"The hell I am! I'd rather pluck out my eye balls then be his woman."

・You knew Uhtred's arrogance, and saw him like a brother. A purely platonic relationship.

・When Leofric found out that you liked him. He instantly denied it.

"No, no, she doesn't feel that way. No."

・Uhtred was like cupid trying to get you two together

・And when he was successful; Leofric and you, became inseparable. Whenever you were pulled away to do your duties, it felt like a piece of you was missing.

・When Leofric didn't have you in his company, he felt lost. He felt sad. You were the light in his life. The only thing he truly cared about.

・Some people rose their eyebrows at you; some even going as far to say something. But you both shut that shit down immediately.

・Just a girl and her bodyguard.

・A woman and her large shadow.

・Leofric wanted to marry you as soon as possible. To tie himself to you in the eyes of his Lord and country.

・He wanted everyone to know you two were together.

・The proposal was very sweet, romantic - just the two of you.

・The ring was his mother's, nothing too flashy. But an heirloom all the same.

・You jumped into his arms before he even finished his sentence.

"Yes! Yes you fool! Of course I'll marry you-"

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Gomez & Morticia Adams

"Think they'll try us?" (You) x "Fuck I hope so." (Leofric)

"What did I do?" (You) x "Today or in general? Either way it's bad." (Leofric)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

He Doesn't Think He's Good Enough For Her

Sacrifice and Devotion

Challenging Social Conventions

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Too Sweet by Hozier

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞

・Leofric has had some ... experience in this area. He's a man, in his thirties - so of course he has.

・The first time you two had sex together was very rushed. It didn't start off that way though.

・The kiss had started off slow and steady.

・The second you pulled back, thinking it was a mistake, he pulled you back in. A hand on the back of your head and the other gripping the back of your shirt.

・Making sure you were completely pressed against him. Reminding himself that you were in his arms. That you felt the same way.

・Normal sex with Leofric is slow and sensual. He likes to take his time with foreplay; touching you everywhere he can. Sucking on your neck, massaging your breasts, sucking, flicking and biting on your nipples

・He doesn't want you to be quiet, Leofric wants to hear you moan. He needs to hear it.

・The thing that has become an obsession in his mind is the thought of fucking you. Making love to you. Eating you out. Ploughing into you for hours, making you a sweaty mess.

"You had enough? Aye?" He'd say in between thrusts. Making you mewl beneath him. Grabbing whatever you could to ground yourself.

"Mmmm," was all you could come out with. The ability to talk had been fucked out of you long ago.

He chuckled, low and gutteral, "one more round love, you can go one more round."

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gumnut-logic · 3 months

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Óen (Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Thunderbirds Are Go and HTTYD crossover.

Here is the next little bit. There won't likely be a bit tomorrow as I'm working pretty much 12 hours so will likely come home and crash. But I will give writing another go on Friday, hopefully.

Many thanks to the wonderful @onereyofstarlight and @idontknowreallywhy for both the readthroughs and the cheerleading. You guys are so kind to me.

And thank you to Thunderfam for supporting this crazy venture. Thank you for all your comments and support. You guys are amazing to me.

Have a little Scotty and Johnny :D I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

“He’s found us again.”

Flaith Scott O’Treasaigh stared at his brother. “You’re sure?”

“A definite report from the Wind. He was sighted just off the far southern isles. I hold some hope that the peoples there saw his true self and acted accordingly.”

They could only hope. A spear in that’s man’s belly would improve the world.

The thought was an uncouth one, and beneath his station and belief, but considering the curse Gaat had been on their souls, he was almost willing to damn his own if it would protect his family.

Scott ran his fingers through his short beard, resisting the urge to scratch as always. It was necessary to wear the beard in these northern climes. That or have his face freeze off in the air.

John had let his hair grow, well past his shoulders. Scott almost envied the warmth it gave his brother. But he could not grow his own hair that length. Too many bad memories.

Besides, there were other reasons to grow all that red hair. It hid the scars down the side of his brother’s face and Cóic’s scale. It didn’t pay to advertise, after all.

“Cóic’s response?”

“She’s calm. She has confidence in you.”

“And Eos?”

His brother’s lips twisted just a little. “Let’s just say I’m glad our flying gear is fire-proof.”

“Angry?”

“I wouldn’t advise letting her near Gaat should we ever encounter him. I don’t think he’d be fireproof enough.”

“She has reason.” Scott sighed. “We all have reason.”

But that was not the commitment.

“How much time do we have?”

“Some days, a week, perhaps. He is without dragon. He must have learnt from last time. But he does have several ships and an army of mercenaries.”

“We could stay and fight.”

“We are outnumbered and Cóic has no wish to expose our family to war.”

Scott cursed under his breath. There were advantages to having your own militia, but they had left that all behind when they fled their home, choosing the same reasons Cóic was choosing now. The hood wanted Cóic and all their dragons and Scott was unwilling to put innocent lives between the deadly cretin and the great dragon.

But Gaat could not have the Thunderbird. Not while Scott O’Treasaigh lived.

“Do we have a path?”

“Far to the east are the Viking lands. There are many fjords and islands that will help us hide. The distance is barely half that we have already travelled across the great sea, but there is talk of a vast land beyond the fjords that while harsh, may provide safety.”

Scott stared at his dear brother, the aquamarine of his right eye out-shining the dull blindness of his left. Cóic’s iridescent gold scale, embedded in the burn scars at his temple, almost glowing in the dull light as if to make up for all the harm its presence had caused.

“Let me think on it.”

John reached out and clasped Scott’s arm. No words were said, but then none were needed.

Both men startled at a loud thump on the door. It opened slowly and Virgil, followed by Alan, ushered the young Viking into the room.

At least timing might be opportune.

“Ah, Hiccup.” He limped towards the boy. “I’m glad to see you up and about.”

A big black nose pushed open the door wide. The young black fury stepped into the room; green eyes wary as he slunk up beside his rider.

“And Toothless. You are both welcome to our clochán.”

The Viking’s expression was curiosity itself. He dipped his head. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

There was no humility or fear and Scott received the impression that Hiccup was used to speaking with nobility.

Fair enough.

It was obvious this room was where the decisions were made. Despite their sometimes nomad existence, John made a point to remind Scott exactly who he was by decking the meeting hall with drapery from home.

But no matter if his brothers now thought him Flaithri, Scott would never consider himself king while hope remained and he made a point to ignore the ornate chair Virgil insisted they lug across the oceans vast. It was their father’s, not Scott’s and it sat at the head of the hall, ever empty.

Scott preferred the wooden chairs they made from whatever tree they could find locally. Even a cold rock would be better.

He gestured Hiccup over to a table at one side of the room. “Let us sit and share news.” And he didn’t need Virgil’s pointed glare and his leg to know that he needed to sit down before his brother called in Máthair Chriona and she decided to stew him alive for ignoring her advice.

He limped over and sat beside Hiccup.

And no, neither of his brothers left the room. Virgil sat with him and John stood behind as if he was some kind of protective sentinel.

The night fury made a point of sitting beside the young Viking, strategically placing his body directly between Scott and his rider.

Just as defensive as Óen. A glance at John and he found a frown on his brother’s face. And that would be a yes on the same level of defiance to Cóic. No doubt the matriarch had told him to step back but the fury had ignored her.

Interesting.

Hiccup was watching all of them and again, Scott was again struck with the impression that the boy knew nobility. Likely was nobility.

“Virgil says Toothless needs time to rest his wings before you return home. You are welcome to stay with us for that time. I would be interested to hear your tale, get to know a little of you and your people.”

Hiccup straightened. “And I would be very interested to get to know you as well. Your dragons…your night fury. Where did you find him?”

Scott let his shoulders relax. “Óen was my father’s.”

-o-o-o-

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #how to train your dragon #httyd #thunderbirds fanfiction #httyd fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #hiccup haddock #crossover #nuttyfic #I did soo much research for this #at least two different languages are here #not including English or Viking #I had to buy dinner because I took too long writing #bad parent and wife

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atopvisenyashill · 7 days

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Some say that Alysanne never recovered from that loss, for her Winter Child alone had been a true companion during her declining years.

#valyrianscrolls #valyriansource #gael targaryen #rani graphics #i’m doing grapgics for canon ocs aksksjdj #one day i’ll post a graphic of a character who has actual dialogue.#i like how this came out tho.#also fc is ivar’s wife from vikings. freya i think. idr the actress’ name.

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4seasonsofart · 6 months

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A True Warrior

(Thors x Healer Reader)

Gender neutral but the word wife is used in accordance to the reader. Typical misogynistic themes of olden times.... Thors before he became a true warrior so settle down—that's why he seems out of character.

Steel meets steel, flesh on flesh, and blood of blood scattered on the ancient grounds of god's. The battleground wages on despite any protests from the heavens. The gods are too far away to warn their creations. The Earth is too far away from the paradise they crave.

The sunlight is blocked by the violent crowd of clouds that thunder in support of the fighting below. One after another, soldiers fall to the ground like rag dolls. They crumple under the weight of the indomitable Jomsvikings. They move as not individual people but as a force of nature.

Two young and promising fighters that emit a dark and vicious bloodlust tear through the field like lions on lamb. One is a blonde that stands at a staggering seven feet seven high with two twin battle axes and hazel eyes that scream for a need for battle. The other is like a silent predator that cuts through flesh with his steel borne of others blood. His eyes are empty and lifeless, the brown dulled and mixed with the crimson red of his enemies. His black hair strands are pulled back to keep them out of his face as he searches. He is stalking. He is ready. He wants to find them. No... needs.

He was promised a wife, and that wife he shall have. To have his own future bride killed in a battle such as this would be a great shame. He would never allow such shame to fall on the shoulders of the great Jomsviking chieftain. Sigvaldi, the man who has given him someone to be able to pass on his legacy to. That is something that can never be repaid, but through the service of his battles.

His sword cuts through another lamb of sacrifice as he searches for what he was promised. He looks through the thicket of soldiers and spots the one he was looking for. He moves quickly, almost like a shadow. The enemy soldiers scream in terror and pray that being cut down by him means a chance at Vahalla. His blonde comrade joins him, Thorkell the Tall; he seems giddy to just be in a war.

He comes upon a figure a lot smaller than he, one that has fresh bruises on their body and bandages in their hands, as they patch up a foreign soldier. Thors waves off Thorkell, and he begrudgingly listens. He stalks off back into the heart of the battlefield like a child, just deprived of a toy. Thorkell occasionally glances back at Thors and the child of Sigvaldi, a strange light in his eyes as he does. Although it disappears as soon as it comes, he goes back to his slaughter.

Thors sticks his sword through the heart of the foreign soldier while his future bride stares in horror. His brows furrow as his passive gaze turns into a demonic glare. He takes his sword out of the soldier's corpse with ease. He points his sword at your throat.

"You are the child of Sigvaldi? What is the meaning of this madness? I should cut you down right now for acting like such a disgrace on the battlefield." He states in an enraged manner as his pale complexion slightly tints with exasperation.

He watches as your expression of shock turns into irritation as you so disrepectably stand against him. In less time than it takes to blink, Thors is holding your wrist within his grasp. His grasp is so tight that your bones must be getting ground into dust. You do your best not to wince as you immediately regret your rash action.

"I am your future husband, and you choose to try to slap me? First, the disrespect to battle, and now the disrespect to me." He holds back any violence against his future partner as he releases the grasp on your wrist and slices another soldier's neck.

"I am a healer! You just killed my patient! A man, woman, child, or gender non-conforming person deserves to be healed and treated with respect!" You shriek out angrily as tears spring from your glistening eyes and heavy heart.

"The enemy deserves death." Thor states in a passive tone as his calloused fingers dig into the handle of his sword. "You do as well if you are helping those we war against." No trace of emotion is heard in his voice. It is as if Odin created him from an ancient rock—unmoveable and uncaring.

You shake your head heavily as you realize who he is: Thors, the Troll of Jom. Your father is making you wed against your will. If he tells your father that you have been sneaking off the battlefield, you will be greatly punished. Still, this man, the one with no emotion in his eyes—how is he to care for you?

"What enemy?" You asked through cracked vocal inflections as you watched the battle around you. Savages seek each other's blood. Families and lives are being torn apart by the mere strings of fate that hold them together. The mothers and children will no longer have husbands or fathers. The shield maidens may never see their lovers again. "All I see is innocent blood being spilt."

"You are foolish—not fit to be the child of such a highly esteemed chieftain. If you are to be married to me, I expect the submission that is seen between a master and a slave."

"How dare you—" Before another word is able to leave your mouth, a sharp blow comes to your head. An angry shout is heard as the heat of the battle is so close to you that it is practically breathing on you. You feel a certain fuzziness rise in your veins.

The impossibly gentle touch that only a mother would be able to provide is wrapped around your body. You cuddle into the new sensation as the throbbing of your head slowly dulls. Your body relaxes, and all sounds but the faint crackling of a fire can be heard. A soft thump next to you is felt as your shoulder is brutally shaken.

"Up." Thors grating voice commands.

A mellow whine escapes your throat as your peace is broken and your consciousness slowly returns. You bring your hand up to your head swiftly as a yelp leaves your chapped lips. Your fingers ghost the bandages wrapping around your head as your entire right arm is littered with violet-blue splotches of bruised artistry. You blink the rest of the weariness from your eyes as your gaze settles on your room. The gentle lull of the fireplace, the mountain of furs you always wrap yourself in while sleeping, and the enigmatic way the wood wraps around the walls of the cabin to create this space.

Your eyes land on the slightly discontented but mostly hardened expression on your future husband's features. You avert your eyes out of instinct. It felt as if he was trying to see not just the inside of your soul but also the insides of your mind.

You scan the new cloth laid upon you while in your slumber: your regular shift dress was placed on you with new embroidery and a soft white color. Wrapping around your head is a crown of flowers with soft golden hues. A wedding arm band sits on your left arm with intricate runes only the most talented of craftsmen could make.

"We were married in your slumber. Now, as I said, up." Thors commands again. As if you were some tamed wolf that he expected to obey his every whimsy.

"I could divorce you and kill you if I wanted. It's in the Viking code." You blurt out hastily as the panic rises from your stomach into your aching throat.

Thors stands up without a sound as that same piercing glare enters your heart again. "Then do it." He states in a haughty tone as he releases his sword from its constraints. "Disgrace both of our families and end my bloodline if you so wish."

He drops his most prized possession in your lap as he makes no move against you. A single moment passes as his eyes keep their dull demeanor. His courage and hardened expression do not lighten in the slightest as your exhausted arms wield the sword. You tenderly lean the tip of the sword against his veiny neck as he slightly tenses.

Your anger wavers as your febleness takes root within you. You release the sword as it carelessly clatters onto the ground around you. You refuse to meet his callous gaze as your eyes drift towards the fallen piece of metal. The thing that has helped him slay so many. The thing that has caused an unknown amount of pain and strife.

"I can't."

"I know." A single moment passes, and then another. He seems to have lost interest in you as he turns around and begins walking off. "That's why you will never truly be my wife. You're weak."

Somewhere far away, the Norns mourn over your fate. The heavens cast their pity upon the husband for whom you have been fated. His steps are like stabs into your already fragile heart. That's the day it stopped beating.

For: @bjornslove and @atruewarrior

#vinland saga #there will be a part 2 #angst #thors #thors vinland saga #thors x reader #thors x you #reader insert #gender neutral insert #term wife used gender neutrally #vikings #multi part fic

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