-> Here you will find the oddities and ends of which my mind has come up with~
♡ Updated On: November 14th, 2023
♡ Current Hyperfixation: Vinland Saga
♡ Daily posts are little bits that I post. Most are comedic and most have some headcanons in them.
♡ ✔️ - Mean the poll is completed
♡ No nsfw content
Vinland Saga
Hunter or the Hunted? (Hybrid AU)
-> Hybrid Askeladd Profile
-> Hybrid Thorfinn Profile
-> Vinland Saga Hybrid AU [#1]
-> Vinland Saga Hybrid AU [#2]
-> Hybrid Thorfinn (Part 1) Season 1: 6 year old Thorfinn meeting you.
-> Hybrid Thorfinn (Part 2) Season 1: Thorfinn sees you after eleven years.
-> Hybrid Thorfinn (Part 3) Season 1: November 2023
To Know A Man
Lokis mischief has ended up with Thorfinn's fate being manipulated and him falling incredibly ill; Arnheid Village is on the edge of destruction. Einar is sent on a mission by the Norns to keep Thorfinn's fate in check. Will he be able to save his best friend, or will he fall prey to Thorfinn's nightmarish past?
Inspired by: @wutheringmights
Part I: Old Friends, New Enemies
-> Chapter I: What has been, is, and will come.
-> Chapter II: Unknown 2023 Date
Daily Posts
-> (Thorfinn) Vinland Saga Self-Aware AU [#1]
-> (Canute) Vinland Saga Self-Aware AU [#2]
-> (Thorkell) Vinland Saga Self-Aware AU [#3]
-> (Askeladd) Vinland Saga Self-Aware AU [#4]
-> (Snake) Vinland Saga Self-Aware AU [#5]
-> Why people hate VS Season 2: A Theory
-> Our little princess (Feminine Canute)
-> Thorfinn doesn't know how to flirt
-> Thorfinn doesn't understand pregnancy
-> Thorfinn doesn't understand periods
-> If Garm was in S1 of Vinland Saga [#1]
-> If Garm was in S1 of Vinland Saga [#2]
-> Vinland Saga Characters when reader texts them "I want a baby."
-> Vinland Saga Characters "murderer, insane, or baby...?"
-> Askeladd introducing his family (Modern AU)
-> Canute and cat noises
-> Thorfinn x Canute (Drabble)
-> Sin For Me (Thorfinn x Canute One-shot)
-> Pride Before The Fall (Thorfinn x Canute One-shot)
-> Fuck The Angsty Teenage Lifestyle (Thorfinn x Canute One-shot)
-> t4t Thorfinn and Canute
-> Thorfinn and Canute Ship Dynamics
-> Thorfinn/English Royal Reader/Canute
-> Poly Yandere Thorfinn/Reader/Canute
-> A True Warrior (Thors x Reader | Part 1)
-> Vinland Saga Match-up Event
-> Vinland Saga Match-up #1
Vinland Saga Breaking News (Newspaper)
-> Local Men Adopt Three Children - Prince of Denmark secretly a princess? - Thorkell is how big!? [#1]
Vinland Saga Hunger Games (AU)
-> Vinland Saga Hunger Games (Round 1 Results + Life Update)
Among the edges of Vahalla lie two domains that lie just out of reach of all nine realms. The realm of that which makes life and the realm of that which allows death. Both realms are infinitely close to intertwining with each other, yet they are fated to never do so. Life may never touch death, lest life rot, and death may never touch life, lest death become obsolete.
The celestial growth of all life is a haven that sprouts up new flora everywhere that life walks. An eternal, shining light cascading down onto the peaceful realm that warms all life It's vibrant and lively, in a way that cannot be described to mortals. It is unreachable to anyone, but life—not even death—may touch the surface of these sacred lands.
Crystalline lakes run through the valleys that grant anyone who bathes in them eternal youth. Life is eternal here, yet it slips away so quickly from mortals. The fauna here is plentiful, and they spend their days grazing on the thriving flora. There is no darkness here, no night, and there is no need to rest or sleep as life is always alive.
On the opposite of the nine realms lies what has been corrupted and corroded. Eternal darkness and damnation flow through rivers of eternal crimson blood. There is neither ground nor any flora or fauna. All that lies in the realm beyond life and all is an all-encompassing darkness. A long trail of blood and tortured souls sorrowfully weeped the cries of the afflicted. The stench of rot and the vile of mankind permeate throughout the void.
There is neither breath nor air, yet somehow the sounds of the damned and the screeches of the night terrors echo across. This is the place of the god's fear—where they will end when Ragnarök comes. No one in Vahalla speaks of the void or how its power grows every passing day. No one has truly ever seen death except life; for a fleeting moment, a connection was formed. For when life and death intertwine, everything will end, and Ragnarök shall have begun.
There's a gap between the realms of life and death in Muspelheim. A land of fire and destruction that will help fill the void during the last days of the gods The God of Death, Thorfinn, spends most of his time there. He walks right to the edge, right where Muspelheim ends and the scared lands of life begin. He never reaches out—well, he almost did once—and he regrets it dearly.
He yearns for Ragnarök; he yearns for life; he knows that there is no higher power than him, yet he still wishes that he wasn't Death. He remembers the time of the old gods. When he and life were intertwined. He promised Canute that he would never leave, and yet now they are separated by an eternal blazing fire. Their union will kill all and cause all to fall, and all Thorfinn is able to do is wait and yearn.
The Goddess of Life, his goddess, his love, shows at the end of his sacred lands. He adorns a simple silken white dress, although his aura appears more holy than any other divine being. His cascading blonde locks sparkle like the crystalline waters of youth that he bathes in. His eyes were created out of the same hue as the sky; they are endless and freeing. They never fail to take Thorfinn's breath away. He needs neither a crown nor intricate runic symbols. He is God. He is free. He is true and ultimately divine beauty.
Death, in that moment, wishes to hide away. His body is scarred with runic symbols of terror and destruction. His blonde locks are matted with the souls of the innocent and as dry as the heat of the crackling inferno in which he stands. Surtr makes no move against death; even he is in awe and reverence for the being that occupies his lands so often. Still, all Thorfinn is able to focus on is the black garb that hangs limply off of him. No better than the clothes a mortal slave would wear. A tattered tunic filled with holes and scorch marks, matching trousers that cover his feet. He wears only black combat boots, a gift from a damned soul.
He is unable to compare himself to how pristine and angelic Canute appears. Even his bare feet look as if they were sculpted by a force greater than either of them. He wears no clothing below his ankles, as life is always connected to the earth around him. His goddess, his life, his yearning—and he is only... no better appearing than one of the Jötunn.
Canute knows that he is not allowed to take another step forward, so he falls on his knees. Life's sky blue eyes grow duller for a moment as all of the flora around him slowly wilts. "Touch me once, my sweet Death. I beg of you. I have been deprived of your love for so long."
"Torture me not, my love." Thorfinn croaks out with a tortured vocal inflection as he falls to his knees. His body is consumed by the hellish inferno, and yet he still feels nothing—he is eternal. He is part of Ragnarök; he will cause the end of Canute. He may never touch him, lest he kill him. "I need you. When shall I love you again?"
"You have never stopped loving me. Touch me, please, my sweet Death." Canute begs with his harmonious cords as his hand so foolishly reaches out towards Thorfinn.
So tempting.
One inch away and his love shall embrace him.
"Thorfinn, please, I may die without you."
"You will die with me." Thorfinn shrieks the pain of his for once instead of being afflicted, even if it doesn't feel so. He doesn't want to be dead. He doesn't want to be immortal. He wants to be human. He wants to be human. He wants...
"Keep me close, my sweet Death." Canute speaks in the desperation of a mortal, begging for their life from their superior. Canute closes the gap and he embraces him after many millennia.
Death weeps, for life now rots in his arms. Canute keeps himself imprinted on Thorfinn. Life allows itself to play into Death's hands. He screams, he shouts, he shakes Canute, and he curses. Canute rots. His vibrancy is quickly fading, as life does in all nine realms.
Vampire Thorfinn x Priest Canute
Trigger Warning: Self harm, depressed Canute, religious trauma, suggestive themes
Part 1: Sin For Me
Among the most high of holy beings, there are the most dark of all devils. Mankind was never made to stand in the middle of these warring entities. The most corrupted of all mankind are not the ones that hide in the darkness, but the ones that dance in the light. We all have our secrets, and some are best left untold. Even the most holy may be seduced into sin.
A preacher of God lies in the confession box. A cracked bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass of gin in the other. The mark of the vampire lies on his neck, decaying the skin around it, his holiness fading with it. He prays fervently, like a dehydrated man lost in the desert and abandoned. The words fall off his lips like stones, ones that he used to throw at the glass houses of the unsaved.
"Never allow the lust of mankind to corrupt me, oh Lord." He whispers breathlessly as he takes a despondent swig of his gin. "I will not be seduced by this devil of the night."
He swallows the rest of the whiskey and finishes his gin. He stills for a moment, and without a second thought, he violently slams his head against the confession box. He shrieks out like a hunted animal looking for its kin. He arches his back as he drives his glassware against the hardwood floors of the holy ground. The toxic shards of glass dig into his palms like the thorns of a crown.
His crimson blood slowly trickles over his palms as he lets out a choked sob. He doesn't pull out the shards of hopeless divinity as he tightens his well-worn fingers into the punishment for his own sins. He hides in the confession box. He begs the heavenly being for salvation from the beasts mark on his pale neck.
"I am not worth your salvation; my holiness has been tainted. You gave me your body and blood, and now I am depraved of it. I deserve the punishment! I deserve the death!" He sobs out with his tortured soul as he wraps his lacerated hands around his aching throat.
He pushes his hands into his once-pristine neck as that same human sin flows out of him. He's being cleansed of that night's devil's mark. He just needs to be cleansed. Like the water washing sins away, his blood will wash the mark. He tears his clerical collar away from his cleansed neck as his hands buzz with the holiness that he has regained. He no longer sees any harm but the good that comes from his actions. The booze tastes like the body of Christ, the new blood within him... Christ's blood.
He knows that he must cut the mark out of him! Stop the infection of the satanic offenses on his holy body. First, he must rid himself of the rest of his faults. He must become clean. He must become new.
He unbuttons his cassock only to his chest as he shakily pulls out a pocket knife. "Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." He mutters under his breath as he makes oddly angelic lacerations of the cross all along his body.
The tainted sin of mankind mixes in with the grounds of holiness. Soon enough, nothing is evil anymore; there is only God, the real God, and the angels above. He finishes his obsessive life of prayers as he digs his split fingernails into the devil's mark.
"How far mankind has fallen." A silken voice of lustful pleasures reaches his ears and echoes across his soul. His trousers tighten instinctively as that foreign feeling sinks down into his core like a soul into hell.
His eyes snap open as he is met with the devils entrancing hazel irises. He adorns a different seductive cloth tonight. A white-laced baby doll dress that barely hangs past his upper thighs. He wears a pair of pink and white stripped knee highs that meet the ends of his— sinful outfit. Canute gulps down hard as all thoughts of his cleansing begin to drift to the dark recesses of his mind.
"So surprised to see me again, my priestess?" Thorfinn purrs out like a content cat that has just reconnected with its owner.
He places himself on Canute's lap without a care in the world as he positions his thighs right outside of Canute's. He hums in an almost heavenly manner as he tenderly begins picking the shards of glass out of Canute. His fangs enlarge again as he takes in the aroma of Canute's intoxicating blood.
He watches as Canute's eyes widen, and he is able to feel his heart rate speed up. He shuts his mouth as he continues to pluck every single piece of glass with as much care as a craftsman has while making their magnum opus. They sit together in such a compromising position. Thorfinn's frigid breath causes goosebumps along his bloodied figure.
"Allow me to be your savior for once, dear." He speaks in such a sweetened tone that no mortal is able to resist.
Canutes irises grow clouded with an unknown haze as his body becomes encased in that same obsidian ooze. Thorfinn presses one of his lifeless fingers against Canute's lips as he gently shushes him. He smirks triumphantly, although Canute's vision is much to hazy to see it. 'Right along with my plan. My mark always works wonders.'
"Who do you belong to?" Thorfinn inquires in such a soft tone as he squeezes his thighs against Canute.
"Y-You..." He trails off as his head hits the back of the confession box.
"Are you mine?"
"I am yours." He finalizes, like the last nail on the cross.
Canute's eyes roll into the back of his head with those cursed words as his body goes limp. Thorfinn's virtuous smile morphs into a gnarled simper. He plants his fangs gently into his priestesses tender skin as his mouth wraps around his neck like a boa constrictor. His tongue connects with the nectar that he has so been deprived of as he moans out gutturally.
"I want to bleed you dry. Wanna make you mine, my sweet love." He murmurs in a frenzied manner as his pupils dilate into crimson gems.
"Thorfinn, hurry the hell up; boss wants us back in the den soon." Torgrim shouts obnoxiously as he lazily bangs on the side of the confession box.
The foreign gooey substance disappears from Canute's limp body as it is left in pristine condition. Thorfinn hisses out in an irritated manner as his delicious meal time has been rudely interrupted. "Tell baldy he can fucking wait! He's got all eternity!"
He begrudgingly detaches his fangs from his lover's neck as he gently peppers a set of kisses over the mark he gave him. He growls out as Torgrim interrupts him again by banging on the box so harshly that the wood splinters.
"Keep your fucking fangs in your mouth, asshole!"
The musky scent of rotted corpses attacks the nostrils of the fallen priest. His soul is at rest in this moment, although his body is shocked awake. The pure amount of malice and demonic energy emanating from everything here makes him wish he had his rosary. He frantically looks around as he realizes his cloth has been removed from him, his injuries healed, his bare body exposed to the elements.
He's isolated, for now. No light streams into the darkness of the barren cave. Only the stench of satanic rituals and the occasional drop of water are felt. He stands up and keeps his legs closed as he stumbles in the darkness. All of the hairs along his figure rise to their peak as his entire body is lined with warnings of the danger ahead. Stalactite and stalagmites make jagged teeth within the confines of this tomb filled with demise.
Impossibly finite rocks dig into his soft flesh mercilessly. The occasional trail of groundwater mixed with limestone and the fluids from the desecrated deceased. Tortured echoes of mortal misery and ecstasy reverberate through his eardrums. He shudders as a frozen draft enters the tunnel he is walking through.
A beastly hiss enters the shell of Canute's ear, one that is much airier than that of Thorfinn. It is fleeting and tortured, as its intensity dies out like a flame on a ceremonial candle. The temperature immediately rises once again as Canutes fight or flight is quelled for a few moments.
"Oi, Priest Canute? What are you doing in the vampire caves?" A familiar voice chirps in.
Canute is startled for a moment and turns around quickly while rushing to make himself presentable. He keeps an iron grip on his legs to keep the cove of his privates covered from this newcomer. He crosses his arms over his chest to hide his nipples and some of the hair that trails shamefully along his stomach downward. He is a man of God; he shouldn't be seen in such a compromising position. Lewd. Horrid. Sinful.
His eyes lock on Garm's crazed gaze as a specially crafted spear still lies in the throat of a now-lifeless vampire. It isn't even twitching or hissing as its puncture wound rapidly rots away. The vampire is soon nothing but dust in the winds of time. His spear, Canute notices, is engraved with many protective and religious sigils that are only made in the highest covenant of witches. Canutes brows furrow as his head lifts away in pure repulsion. 'A vampire hunter? Another disgrace towards the church.'
Garm is still adorned in his alter boy apparel, although it is stained with the devil's sinful blood. A strange glinting is caught within the darkness of the earthen tunnels. A pair of vampire teeth lie proudly off of his ears, like earrings, like he is proud of how easily he kills these beasts. His normally couth and pulled-back blonde hair is now spiked up with gel, as if his hair were now a death trap of its own. The young man quirks a curious eyebrow towards the priest as he uncaps a bottle of the church's communion wine and chugs it down. A few droplets escape his lips and make their way onto his clothes.
He speaks in the most dignified tone that he is able to muster. "Garm, alter boy, is that the communion wine?"
"You mean the Jesus juice?" He mutters off passively as he wipes his mouth. He has emptied the communion wine bottle by now, so he lazily tosses it into the side of the cave wall.
"The utter disrespect you have just shown to Jesus's sacrifice."
"Eh?" Garm chuckles out happily. "So fucking around with a vampire isn't disgraceful? I'm not the one who is currently naked and nearing a vampire den." He points towards the bare figure of Canute as he chuckles.
"How did you—"
He's cut off during his stunned answer as Garm promptly replies. "The church hired me along with Thorkell to protect you. Naturally, I joined that shitty church of yours. Never really understood that Jesus fellow." He trails off as he snaps his fingers and remembers his words. "Vampires leave a sort of residue, I saw some around the church. Next thing I know, I hear you moaning and I see a Vamp banging on the side of the confession box."
Canute's heart rate picks up as his hazy memories fail to fill in the gaps. He does remember Thorfinn. His seducing tongue, his traitorous fangs, his erotic actions. How he— "Wait, did you harm Thorfinn!?" He blurts out suddenly as tears threaten to spill from his eyes. One of his hands moves from his chest towards the mark, it's soothing now in a way. An emptiness fills him, yet somehow, he knows that Thorfinn isn't dead.
"Woah, woah there, didn't know you guys had fucked that much." He snickers unhingedly. "Unfortunately, I did not. He got away from me and took you with him!" His face morphs into a pout as he shakes his head. Canute sighs in relief as one of his fingers gingerly caresses Thorfinns mark.
"Coward! I want a worthy vampire opponent and he keeps slipping from my hands!" Garm angrily stabs his spear into the side of the rock as he grins. "Least I got that one scratching on the side of the box. Didn't put up much of a fight. Froze like a stupidly pathetic deer." He repeatedly stabs the rock to get out his frustrations.
Canute's feet scream for relief, his mind for his church, and his heart for his love. He loves God, always. He gulps as he shakes any straying thoughts from his mind. "Garm... I..." Canute trails off as he everything has gone blank.
His eyes shoot back up towards Canute as a wide grin plasters itself onto his face. "Oh the tunnels, yeah? Let's you get you outta here. Thorkell is just a few turns down." He states in a cheeky manner as he springs up. He taps the shoulder of Canute as he happily trots along, deeper into the network of vampire tunnels.
Canutes stumbles as his feet are bloody messes. Garm doesn't look back nor slow down his walk. He is oddly excited to be in this situation, despite having lost his kill. "You always talk a lot during your sermons. Not so much now, eh?" He mutters as he looks back at his partners struggle. He rolls his eyes and grabs his hand while pulling him along hurriedly.
"How do you know of this place? You called them 'vampire caves'." Canute inquires hesitantly as he attempts to keep himself decently covered... to no avail.
"Oh, I know my way around here. I go through the vamp tunnels as they're like shortcuts. They connect to all the dens filled with those promising opponents." He giggles maniacally as he bumps shoulders with Canute. "Technically, mortals aren't allowed in this place. Bullshit. Good practice. Always an opponent willing to try (and fail) to cut down the undefeated Garm." He proclaims proudly.
"Oh." Is the only word that is able to escape his chapped lips.
"Oh?" Garm snorts as he comes upon an impatient Thorkell. They have come upon a lightened exit. The lively sound of animals and the content forest in a stark change of pace from the depressing and alluring charm of the tunnels.
The giant looks at both Garm and Canute with a pleased smile as he adjusts the weight of his twin axes over his shoulders. "Look at how spry you two are! We'll surely catch Thorfinn now!"
"You're right, Thorkell! I get to battle him first!" Garm declares as he shoots a threatening glare towards Thorkell. Canute places his weary foot back and this isn't unnoticed by Garm. He tightens his firm grip on the unclothed arm of Canute.
"No fair! I've been hunting him longer!" Thorkell whines softly as he stomps around.
"I found our bait, so I get the first stab at him."
In less than a blink of an eye, Thorkell has one of his axes near Garm's throat. Garm expertly blocks the swing with his well-crafted spear. "Very well. Only one stab. Then, he's fair game for either of us to kill."
Canute interrupts their bickering with a statement. His voice is shaken and once again his dread creeps within him like a vine ensnaring his soul. 'What is wrong? Why must my moods be ever changing?' "Bait, you said? It is highly illegal to use a servant of God as bait for one of those beasts!"
Garm and Thorkell both make eye contact with each other as they have a hearty laugh. "Who says the church has to know?" They both ask in an unnerving unison. They look like cackling hyenas within his shaded blue irises.
"You despicable Vampire Hunters! You have no honor!" Canute spits out in an exasperated manner as his face tints slightly red.
Thorkell does the scariest thing a mortal can do. He goes quiet. He has an outburst of white, hot rage as he grabs Canute and presses him against the side of the cave. The slimey stone digs into his soft flesh so harshly that a quiet whimper escapes his lips. "You, have no honor. You are a priest! A coward! You fight no battle, you only sit upon your mighty hill and past arrogant glances towards us all!"
"You know what they say Thorkell?" Garm snickers mischievously. "The bigger the dick, the better the warrior."
Thorkell casts his glance down towards his private areas and then nudges Canutes legs towards the side forcefully. "I suppose both Garm and I are definitely better warriors than you."
They laugh in a monstrous manner, Canute can't tell which monsters he'd rather be with. He hangs his head in utter shame as his cheeks burn brighter than any flame that has put those unrighteous to death. His back slowly leaks his crimson tears of unholiness as his feet are torn by the roads of the fallen before him. The last drop falls into the depths of the darkness and rolls off as the two men shout about something that Canute is unable to focus on. They drag him to the edge of the tunnels carelessly; he's handled like a common slave. He's forced to stand as he takes a step out into the sun. He hisses in the most excruciating pain that he has ever experienced.
"Little priestess, did you really think that you could escape me?" Thorfinn mutters out in a sweetened manner. He stands nonchalantly near the edge of the darkness. His finger swipes across the edge of the cave as he collects a bit of his lovers blood. He sticks it in his mouth as a pleased moan escapes his plump lips.
"Thorfinn!" The hunters shout excitedly in unison.
Thorfinn gnarls out demonically as he sees his injured lovers state. "You bastards! To hell with the both of you!" He clenches his fists so tightly that his lifeless tissue tinges a brusied violet.
"We'll take you there with us." Garm challenges as his spear ends up precariously sitting on the edge of his lovers adam's apple.
Before Thorfinn has time to react a hand tugs on his shoulder. "No time Thorfinn, I'll let Bjorn deal with those life breathing morons." A strangers honeyed and irritated voice barks.
"Fuck off old man; they're mine."
"No." The word in spoken in all finality. No room for argument.
Canute is thrown towards the ground in surprise as a force of nature falls over the entrance of the cave. A force so strong and mighty that even Canutes soul trembles heavily. It is as if even the stench of death and sex that wafts from the caves is overpowered. It is a beast.
"Good man Bjorn, rip the hunters apart. We must be going." The estranged voice states passively. As if the wild creatures aura was more of a comfort than a fear.
The pleased shouts of the beastly hunters are drowned out as that foreign ooze seeps into Canute's very core. A moment later, it has once again disappeared, and he falls into Thorfinn's arms. He is barely able to see through the haze of his eyes, as the temperature here is more frigid than that of the church. A figure walks up to Thorfinn in this. He can't see; all he knows is that he is in the caves still.
"Thorfinn~" A cheery yet masculine voice beams. "A little birdy told me that you saw the hunters today. Was Garm there?" He inquires eagerly, barely able to contain himself.
"Elisei." Thorfinn sneers flatly. "You've got angel blood all over you."
"Don't avoid the question love~" Elisei purrs out as Canute is detached from Thorfinn momentarily.
"Go fuck yourself!"
"No, I'd much rather do it with you and Garm." Elisei giggles in a crazed manner as his hand gently pats the top of Canutes head. "Prey?"
"I am not going to be part of one of your weird vampire sex orgys." Canute is barely able to see Thorfinn spit on Elisei and Elisei thank him. "Don't you dare lay a hand on him. He isn't prey... he's it."
"Wait, so you saw Garm today and you got to taste the blood of the one?" Elisei squeals as he drags his finger across Canutes neck. "Bastard, you marked him." He states in a desperately pouty tone almost the same as Garm. "No worry, I'll just give him one of my own."
Canute is barely able to make out the shape of this Elisei character. He is about the same height as Garm and has long, shaggy brunette hair. Canute weakly covers his neck as he backs himself into one of the earthen walls. He looks in the direction of where Thorfinn stands with pleading eyes.
"I am going to—"
"You two bitch like dogs in heat." A gruff and gritty voice mutters as a burly arm tugs on Canute.
"Bjorn, you're wings look like they could use some trimming~ I've got a special potion that I could—" Elisei is cut off as well.
"Quiet vampire witch. Lest I rip your fangs from your mouth and sacrifice you to Askeladd." The beast Canute met earlier now one hundred percent confirmed as Bjorn.
"He's mine." Thorfinn mumbles as Bjorn shushes him with one of his wings.
"He is a mortal. He was harmed when you so carelessly left him in one of our tunnels that was explored by humans. He needs a bath and a warm bed. These are direct orders. End of discussion you brat."
Bjorn raises Canute bridal style and carries him within his powerful arms.
"Thank you..." Canute mutters weakly.
Bjorn doesn't reply as he moves to carry out the order given to him. Although, an invisible smile etches across his ancient features.
The holy angels sing on high from the heavens as the demons of the night awake to prowel. The moonlight illuminates the ever-present and graceful Mary, praying from her place on the stained glass window. The church peacefully rests after a long day of entertaining the congregation and saving lives for the Lord. A lone priest sits in one of the pews with his hands clasped together so tightly that they turn a fine shade of red. A rosary weaves in between each of his fingers as he mutters the Lord's prayer both out loud and within his mind.
A ghostly shiver runs down his spine as two frigid fingers run along the edge of his neck. He shoots up from his kneeling position as his ocean-blue eyes fly open. He runs a hand through his sandy blonde hairs as his other still clutches the rosary tightly. His eyes are shaken, but he is strong in the faith of his God.
"You have been stalking me for months, you beast of the night! Show yourself in the name of the Lord, my God!" He shouts sternly as the internal temperature of the church drops to below freezing.
A deathly metallic breath fans over Canute's pale neck as a calloused hand slides down around his waist. "What's the fun in giving myself away so soon?" A demonic giggle escapes the beast's mouth as he disappears within the depths of the church's shadows. Canute is left with a slight tint on his cheeks and goosebumps all along his body.
"I command you to answer me! In the name of God the Father!" Canute states this once again as he battles to restrain his own inante humane urges. His heart rate increases tenfold as he tries to keep the devil's control over his mind at bay.
A satanic cackle echoes across the cathedral as the cross of God bleeds out an obsidian ooze that eats away at the sacred grounds surrounding them. "I fell from heaven a long time ago, little priestess. Once an angel, now a sexy vampire. I was never cut out to hang out with those bores anyway." The guttural voice purrs out in a sensual tone. "News flash, holy beings, sucking God's dick is gay, even if it is God." It? They? She? He? Xe? Rests at the edge of the shadows, only its daunting fangs shining through the dreary twilight.
Canute trembles with anger as he is about to retort to the strange being; it cuts him off and continues its rant. "I thought God hated queers, yet there are so many of them up in heaven. The angels just keep sucking his dick non-stop." It growls out savagely. It calms and returns to its hellish cackles. "Newsflash, your big boy doesn't run the show anymore."
Canute is at his edge now as his fists curl and he shouts with the animosity of a thousand enemy soldiers. "How dare you speak about the Lord in such a derogatory manner! You, faithless beast cast from heaven, what do you mean that God doesn't run the show anymore?" His body shakes with such ferocity that the rosary drops from his hand so foolishly. He reaches to grab it swiftly, but it is too late.
The monstrous being emerges from the depths of the church as he places one of his platform boots over the rosary. He looks up at Canute with blazing hazel eyes and tempting white fangs. He licks his fangs like a predator would when staring at its prey. He wears his long golden locks in a high ponytail, as his body is only sclantily clad in a black satin dress. He leans towards the preist's ear with malicious intent.
"It's no fun if I tell you the truth." He crushes the rosary under his heel as the beads roll under the pews and in the onyx, acidic substance that coats almost everything around them. "You are aware of the inherent eroticism of having a vampire so close to you, priestess." He murmurs softly as his fangs gently graze Canute's ear, and a drop of blood falls onto Thorfinn's tongue.
A pleased moan escapes Thorfinn's blood-tinted lips. "Oh my, you taste more divine than nectar from the heavens." He groans as a twisted smirk appears on his features.
Canute's eyes dilate as he is paralyzed by the beast's sudden appearance. "You are a vampire! A devil of the night!" He screeches as he frantically moves away from the vampire, whoever it is. He takes his calculated steps away swiftly as Thorfinn watches him with a yearning for his sweet ambrosia blood.
"Leaving so soon, my love?" Thorfinn calls out in a teasing and almost sad tone. He walks towards the priest with a deliberately slow walk. Each step is as purposeful and calculated as Canute.
He speaks desperately in a tongue that only a priest is able to speak. He calls for the Lord, for the angels, for anything holy to save him. "Sweetheart, I would rip every wing off of every angel for you. Pluck every eye out so only I am able to gaze upon your heavenly beauty." Thorfinn mutters in an agitated and lovesick manner. "No one... is going to save you." His eyes are mad. Demonic. Evil. Deranged.
Thorfinn leaps onto Canute with a pleased hiss as he goes for his exposed neck. He looks like a demonic entity from an olden Christian painting. His hazel eyes transformed into something much more malicious and ruby-colored. His fangs extend out further, as if impatient for the blood to reach their aching surface.
Canute grabs a Bible from off the edge of the nearest pew as he smacks Thorfinn with it hurriedly. The vampiric entity cries out in both pain and pleasure as he looks at Canute with an eager expression. His flesh slowly burns off from the interaction with the highly holy object. That same vile ooze slowly creeps across Thorfinn's injuries and begins healing them.
Canute's eyes search for anything to be used against Thorfinn in this time of need. "Beast, give me your name!" He shouts as he shoves his arm under the alter to grab the crucifix pendant from his broken rosary. He is panting and sweating heavily despite the temperatures that have only decreased since the satanic beast of night first appeared.
Thorfinn stumbles while the transformation process of his healing finishes. His midnight satin dress has fallen from her shoulders and hangs around his chest, barely covering it. He stares at Canute with wide, unhinged, ruby-red eyes. "Thorfinn. Thorfinn is my name. I want to hear you scream it while I defile you in front of your God."
Canute scrambles up from the floor and holds the small crucifix in his hand. "Thorfinn, I command you in the name of God to leave this holy place! You belong here, not!"
Thorfinn looks at him with an enraged expression as the black ooze seeps from the walls of the great and holy chapel. He barks out a strangled laugh as he doubles over and spits out a glob of white blood. "I broke the seal of holiness of his church with my own powers! Hurt me by touching me, sweetheart. These grounds are no longer holy." He stalks towards Canute again as a thin trail of that white, milky blood escapes his mouth.
His body, once clad in something, is dissolved by the seemingly sentient obsidian liquid. Half of his bare body is encased in it as he reaches out towards Canute with a zombie-like urge to feed on him. His bloodlust is so strong that not even the holiest man on earth could touch him without being consumed by it as well.
Canutes leg is caught in the goo as he tackles the vampiric man and ends up pinning him to the floor. He let out a low and anxious growl, like an animal trapped in a corner. He pants as the goo sends a warmth through his body that counteracts with the icicles slowly growing from the ceiling of the cathedral. He feels like he is burning alive and freezing to death at the same time. His soul feels like it is being ripped apart and repaired. He will not fall to this beast.
Canute still holds the small crucifx in his hand as Thorfinn grins at him lovingly. "What if you allowed yourself to be seduced by a handsome vampire, little priestess?" Thorfinn purrs out haughtily as he presses his bare body against Canute. He hisses out in pain as the priest rests his cross right along his neckline which creates a deep violet bruise with a black charring.
"Do not tempt me you night devil." Canute states through gritted teeth as his pale complexion flushes and he holds back a low whimper. The liquid slowly retreats from Thorfinn's body but keeps them together on the floor of the cathedral.
"Allow me to give you my body and blood, after I take yours." Thorfinn whispers in a sultry tone as his hand cusps Canute's chin. Thorfinn trails his elegant fingers along the edge of Canute's stubble. Canute drops the crucifix and it is devoured by the inky ooze. "I have stalked you for months and yearned for your blood for years." He moans out with the primal vocals of an Inncubus haunting the dreams of men.
Canute fights so fruitlessly against the bloodlust and carnal instincts that emanate from Thorfinn. Canute whimpers out softly as his cheeks flush to their deepest crimson hue. "T-Thorfinn..." He wistfully whines his name. He begs. His pleads. He doesn't know what for.
"Allow me to be the Eve to your Adam. I will take a bite from your apple, and you will be cast from a God who doesn't love you." Thorfinn begs pathetically as his back arches and his need for blood takes over his judgment. "Say your mine."
Canute pants out his words as he trails his fingers across Thorfinn's frigid collarbone. There are too many emotions. Too much of everything. His head spins with the thought of allowing Thorfinn to turn him. Becoming the devil of the night. Drinking from each other each night. The ecstasy of a vampire drinking another vampire's life essence. One word and Thorfinn will be his.
"Y-You—"
"Oh my, the dark and twisted beast Thorfinn is back for another round, eh?" A booming voice drowns out Canutes as a giddy blonde haired man appears at the entrance of the church. Thorkell the Tall and famous Vampire Hunter.
"Thorkell—" Thorfinn flashes his fangs towards the hunter, and he digs his fangs possessively into Canute's shoulder. He hisses out like the demonic beast he is. A primordial moan slips out of Canute's mouth. His eyes widen as the vampire marks him for future use. A sensation spreads between Canute's legs that is foreign to him. Is this the devil's work?
"Let go of him, you beautiful beast! Bite me instead! I love the rush that vampire fangs give me!" Thorkell shouts happily as he brandishes his engraved twin axes. The ones that have slayed thousands of Thorfinns own. The ones that almost killed him the day he turned away from heaven.
Thorfinn bares his fangs once again and places a sloppy kiss on the edge of Canute's mark. He winks towards his little priestess once more before disappearing in the next blink of Canute's eyes. Everything in the church returns to normal. The ice vanishes. The temperature returns to normal. Canute feels normal once again. Even the rosary is fixed and is sitting right in front of him. It is displeased with him, he thinks. He acted like a fool.
What happened to my self-control? What happened to all of those safety measures? Why was I almost seduced by the beast? Oh no, I'm marked.
Oh, no, no, no. Fuck.
Wait, sorry, father in heaven.
The beast has now left an impression on me. Now, he'll be able to hunt me. To stalk me easily. Now other vampires may come after me.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I apologize, Lord. Really, sorry.
I have failed you.
I will avenge my honor and kill that beast to rid myself of his disgraceful mark.
I can't spend eternity with him. Not with a handsome and seductive man like that. That's a sin! The biggest one! It'd be a betrayal of my holiness—
Thorkell runs up to Canute through the pews as he realizes that Thorfinn has disappeared. He whines out angrily as he stomps around like a toddler, deprived of his favorite toy. "No fair! I wanted to fight him! I've been looking for him for months!" Thorkell shouts in a distressed tone, unaware of how distraught and internally scarred Canute is.
When did he lose his clothes?
Canute looks down at his nude body, and he averts his gaze from it. Disgusting. Sinful.
Thorkell continues his tantrum before promptly passing out. His baby blue eyes snap up towards the stained glass of virgin Mary. He heard something. Besides the thump of Thorkell. A shadow passing in the night.
He places himself on his knees once again as he grabs the rosary. "The demons will not consume me tonight." He mutters out uncomfortably. That same foreign sensation still sitting between his thighs.
Why people love S1 Vinland Saga and hate S2 (A Theory)
There's something special about War Arc Thorfinn for so many people. I've heard a lot of discourse about Season 2 and how it doesn't have enough action. About how Thorfinn is lame now because he's only farming. (etc... etc...) I still think you're a loser and lack media literacy if you hate Season 2 just because it doesn't have 'enough action'. Although, I think there is a deeper reason why the transition between Arcs and Seasons feels so monumental here.
Change, life and death, and the passing of time are all bittersweet things for many people. A lot of people fear these things, and the transition between Season 1 and Season 2 has a lot of them. Thorfinn becomes empty, Canute is now a king, and so many of the major characters that we grew up with are now dead for the sake of Thorfinn's development.
We also have the passing of generational trauma and how our characters deal with it. It felt like Thorfinn was an angry little kitten, and now he is a depressed and then enlightened man. It can cause whiplash. A sense of loss. A sense of sadness within us. Many people regress when faced with such things. Which is why Season 2 can feel jarring to most.
We once had something full of action, and now we have nothing. There are a lot of people on their journey to healing. So many people still have their internalized hatred and emotions within them. Which is why they connect with how broken and conflicted Thorfinn is in Season 1. So many people can relate to him. That anger. That pain. That wanting to hurt everyone who hurt you.
It's relatable. It's healing in a way.
Then we have Thorfinn in Season 2, who is beginning to heal. Who is depressed. Who learns to love and gains a friend. For a lot of people, that causes a conflicting feeling inside. Why am I not there? Why can't that be me? Why does that cause me to feel this way? It can trigger a bad reaction or a need to regress to how things used to be.
People are so used to being broken... that they are scared to heal. The anger and pain is the only thing they've ever known. So they relate and love Season 1 Thorfinn. 'He's so me fr fr.'
It's different, and it hurts to see people (even fictional characters) grow and change so drastically. We also have a sub-culture of anime enthusiasts who just like themeless fighting and large explosions of color. So people who like just seeing dramatic fights and bland storylines won't like this. They are used to the 'main character being angry, then defeating a monster, then winning, and then getting angry again.' This is the cycle that continues through many (in my opinion) poorly written manga and books.
Manga like Vinland Saga, Vagabond, and Berserk (etc...) offer a deeper and more gut-wrenching approach to this. They focus on the characters and the themes more than baseline action and intrigue. That's why treasured pieces of literature have such small fanbases. We live in a society that prioritizes 'fast food' intake of content with little substance or meaning. People just want to see something pretty and not think about it. Which is a side effect of many people's addiction to TikTok.
Which pains me but also makes me happy. I like the Vinland Saga fan base; I like that it's small. I can't help but feel a little protective over fictional characters because this story has meant so much to me and my own personal growth. We've seen what happens when themeless and quite bland animes get really large fan bases. (My Hero Academia, for example.) I don't want the message of this story to be lost because people so easily write it off for not filling their dopamine hits.
So from people's own trauma and connections to Season 1 Thorfinn to substanceless media being popularized, it isn't a surprise that many people just write off Season 2. No, it isn't the same as Season 1, but that isn't a bad thing. Want more Season 1 Thorfinn? Intake fanfiction or art created by fans, or make some of your own. You are not limited to only what is shown on your screen or in the manga. That's the great thing about fan bases and fan-made things. It's your interpretation of the character. It's both the original creators and yours.
Just be decent and try to have some media literacy. To all of the 'Incels', 'beta males', and rage baiters who try to hate on this masterpiece- go back to your fanservice animes with poorly written female characters and unneeded nudity.
I didn't know how to really get my thoughts out correctly while writing this, so I hope everyone who reads it understands what I am trying to say.
Hiii!!! If it isn't to much trouble may I have (male) vinland saga matchup please. My pronouns are she/her. I tend to be shy around new people but I can be somewhat loud with people who im close to. My height is 5'0. I would describe my aesthetic as girly/soft/cottegecore, lots of long dresses and skirts.
Im not very athletic and im not a big fan of sports but I love to go roller and ice skating. I also love to read books and to also cook and bake food. I also like to garden. I've been playing the violin for 7-ish years. I love animals. I am currently studying in college. I like to Watch nature/animal documentaries. I also like sweets.
Somethings I dislike are people who bend or ruin my books and people who speak over me when im trying to talk.I love music, I can listen to any genre and like it but my favorites are indie,bedroom pop and classic rock. My ideal relationship would be with someone who is loyal and supportive. sorry if i spelt anything wrong. Hope im not bothering you:)
@armin-ocean-eyes You are not bothering me at all. You have such a unique personality.
Which is why I match you up with our lovely boy Canute.
Early Years (War Arc)
• Prince Canute and you both met in your royal court while he was out on a diplomatic mission given to him by his father. Both Denmark and your country had high tensions between each other, which only further heightened when King Sweyn sent his army into the edge of your territory.
• As the princess, you were put in charge of greeting the prince and having friendly relations with him. Well, cordial. It's hard to be friendly with the son of the man who wants to destroy your country. You were pleasantly surprised when you made eye contact with the shy prince. Without even saying a word to him, he ended up hiding behind his retainer, Ragnar.
"My apologies; my Highness is quite shy around new people. I assure you that we only come with the best of intentions."
• You shake your head and assure the both of them that you have no ill intentions either. Over the next few weeks, you learn more about Canute and end up having some sweet conversations with him.
• He always sticks behind you when you walk around the castle together. He will only ever talk to you or Ragnar. He is deathly afraid of your family and freezes up whenever one of the other royals addresses him.
• Thanks to your good relationship, the tensions between your countries have temporarily eased. You will often sit in your study together and teach him the violin. He is quite bad at it, but he becomes transfixed when he watches you play it.
• You show him around the royal garden, and he marvels at all of the foreign floral and fauna that he is not used to. He asks you questions about different plants every few steps. He loves how vibrant and versatile they are.
• When he learns you love to bake, you are practically able to see hearts in his eyes. He confesses his love for cooking as well. You both teach each other recipes from your homelands. He quite often gets flustered while baking with you. When you tease him, he gets defensive.
"H-Hey, it's just hot in the kitchen!"
*laughter*
"Stop laughing-! I swear it is just the heat of the oven!"
• He tries to tease you about your height, since he is quite a bit taller than you. You always end up teasing him back, and then he hides once again.
• On Canute's last day in your kingdom, he gets you a pet cat. He named the cat Sweetpea after the kitchen incident you both had. (You spilled some sweet peas, and Canute tripped over them and brought you down on the floor with him.) He promises to write you and even asks if he is allowed to give you a kiss on the cheek. Ragnar is shook. Shook!
• Over the next few years, you both keep in touch and write letters. Those letters begin to dwindle. One day, he stops sending you letters completely. You know that Denmark and England are at war. You worry greatly. Another two years pass, and you learn of him becoming king.
(Slave Arc & beyond)
• He changed the first time you saw him after all of those years. You now rule your country, and you were scared of him. This time, he hadn't visited to make peace with your country but to wage war on it if you did not give in.
• You tear up and almost cry as he comforts you. He speaks sweet nothings into your ear and speaks of his dream and his paradise. He speaks of how your country is a part of that. Of how you two should be able to rule alongside each other. About how he only threatens you to keep up his appearances as the fierce king of the Northern lands.
He promises you the world. He gives it to you.
• You both catch up on the years that you have missed. You both speak of your fond memories, and you begin to make new ones. Your kingdom joins his, and soon he proposes in front of the royal court.
• Your wedding is beautiful. No expense is spared. He makes you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He allows you anything you want and fawns over you. He supports you through everything and anything. When he is with you, he is neither a conqueror nor a king; he is just Canute.
● He brings you new scrolls to read and loves hearing you speak of them. You have your own library in the castle that is only for you. Canute always asks for permission before he enters it. He always loves how lovely and cozy you look while reading. He will murder anyone who hurts your scrolls or reading materials.
● He never allows anyone to speak over you. If someone disrespects your opinion, he will be standing quietly behind you and staring at that person menacingly. He will shout at his court to quiet down when you enter the room.
• He isn't the biggest fan of PDA but he loves holding hands and sneakily kissing the side of your face. No one in the castle questions it. Of course, they rarely see it. Wulf cracks a smile when he sees you two together.
• When having hallucinations of his dead father, he always seeks you out. When you lovingly trace and kiss all of his scars, his pain melts away. A few tears come to his baby blue eyes, but he always tries to hide them. He's never had a safe person besides Ragnar. Even then, was that really love? He doesn't know, but he knows that loving you is true love.
• He always asks for your opinion on everything. From political decisions to what he wears for the day, He is very much still Prince Canute around you—a shy and meek, easily flustered boy who is head over heels in love with you.
• He gets you another cat after Sweetpea and names him Sugar because you are the sweetest thing to him in his life.
• You are his only weakness. He is quite protective of you but backs off if you get annoyed or get concerned over his protectiveness. He is just unable to picture a life without you. He loves you more than his paradise. You are his paradise.
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.
It's three in the morning and my battery is almost dead, but here I am, jotting down a note about the Vinland Saga.
I need you non-authors to understand the pain of having the entirety of the Vinland Saga arcs rewritten inside of your mind (but centered around Thorunte) and not having the time to write them.
The Mad Hatter: Nonbinary, Polyamorous, and Omnisexual
The March Hare: Questioning
Alice falls down the rabbit hole and realizes she's queer... What a peculiar sight? What a strange mystery? Is this is a hetero? Is this a queer? Oh my, oh my, so many mysteries to be solved! - Cheshire Cat
"I'm running out of time..... I am so late to the wedding of the Queen! She'll have my head! Oh my, oh my, tick tok... tik tok... tik tok.... Perhaps her future wife shall spare me. She likes me so!" - White Rabbit
"What a curious sight..... Your head fits this hat quite gayly... You are looking quite queer.... My, my, what exactly does your head size say, my dear? giggles My apologies- Mr. or Mx. if you prefer~" - The Mad Hatter
Trigger warning: Yandere themes, religious trauma (Yandere Thorfinn x Canute)
Metallic splatters of the deep, bloody substance paint the ground like canvas. Mangled body parts lie strewn on the floor with a purpose, a message, a warning. A knife is dislodged from the last victim's neck, and a cloth as pure as an angel is tainted by the corpse's decaying fluid. The moonlight streams in through the old church's stained glass windows as one man's features are illuminated: Thorfinn. He moves silently and purposefully as his fingerprints are cleaned off of the bodies and his knife is stored away inside of his combat boots until its next use.
He looks towards the entrance as a man on a wooden cross hangs over the doorway. Even with his head hanging, it felt like the man was silently judging him, mocking him. He wants to burn this entire place to cinders. He wants that man on the cross to pay for his sins. No, not just being crucified; if he were still alive, Thorfinn would have something much worse in mind.
He tsks and shakes his head as he flips off the hanging man before making a decision: this place does deserve to be burned. This place deserves to go to the hell that they so preach. He wants to make them pay—every single one.
If he wants the second part of his plan to work, then he needs to act quickly. He pulls out his phone and snaps a few pictures of the carnage he created. He checks the time, and his expression contorts into something even the devil would fear: six p.m. on the dot. He's right on track.
He flips off the hanging wooden man, the dismembered flesh, and the entire world filled with hateful bigots. He grits his teeth as tears threaten to stream down his face. He doesn't; no, he won't allow them to. He has a job, and he has a mission: revenge.
He is unable to calm himself as his heart rate accelerates and the world around him begins to turn blurry. He struggles and gasps for air as his body uncontrollably trembles. He shrieks. Something so heart wrenching and primoridal that even the heavens cry. He can't believe they would do something like this. He can't believe they're so cruel.
He stumbles up the stairs towards the old church attic. He hits the wall a multitude of times as he clutches onto the fabric over his heart. His sweat and tears mix together as they fall onto the dusty wooden planks. He needs to burn this place. He needs to avenge Canute.
He grabs the attic door and swings it open carelessly as the entire church shudders around him. His aura is filled with so much spiteful hatred that anyone who gets near him may easily mistake him for a demonic presence. His calloused palms are bleeding. He doesn't know when they started or when they will stop. He only knows that this church tried to take something dear to him. A line that no one should cross unless they are allied with death.
He shakily grabs the old rope tied to the church bell. He lurches up his breakfast, and it ends up staining the floor below him. Droplets of desperation cling to him as he chimes the bell. Once. Twice. Thrice. Quarce. Quince. Sence. He yanks on the bell so hard that his entire body recoils and his knees give in. He ends up with his knees in the remnants of his breakfast and his eyes darting back and forth wildly as if something were watching him.
His hands grasp at empty air as he shouts, swears, and curses. He throws himself against the ground with a hard thump and rolls around like a madman. He hits anything he's able to. His forehead is bleeding. His clothes have the stench of death and cornflakes. His entire soul is barely together as it stays tied by a single soul string.
He is unsure of how long he has been here. His screams eventually quiet. His wild thrashing eventually stops. His soul eventually contains itself inside his body once again. His thirst. His thirst isn't quenched. He stares at the church bell on the rickety platform and glares at it. As if it were his own worst enemy.
He balls his bloodied gashes of fists as he stalks down the rickety stairs and out towards the old church's shed. He pushes open the door as blood smears the handle, and he roughly grabs the gasoline cans he filled earlier. He walks through the ghastly halls and lines every single room with gasoline. The pews. The nursery. It's all drenched in a dark and murky oily liquid that will cause this place to go up in righteous flames.
He coats every dead body. Every person he slayed Every person who surrounded his boyfriend in a circle tried to pray the demons away. Every person began to mock and spit at him for just living. Every person who laid a hand on his lover and broke a bone in his body.
"Jesus forgives sinners, my ass." He mutters bitterly as he spits on every dead body and he drenches them in the unholy oil.
He loses count of how many bodies there are. Ten, fifteen, a hundred? He has no idea. He doesn't quite care. Their bodies will all burn the same, just like the church.
His face sours as he comes upon the person he holds the most vitriol towards. Canutes father. Sweyn. The bastard. The laziest excuse for a fucking father, if he's ever seen one, He's even worse than his old man, Askeladd.
He's the scum of the earth. He'd gladly string him up next to the hanging man if he had the time. His boot meets the corpse's throat, and he cracks it. It's a satisfying crunch under Thorfinn's heel. He smiles. He laughs. To anyone else, it would seem as if a monster escaped their cell in Hell.
He coats that damn bastard extra well as he makes his way towards the entrance. He looks up at the hanging man and flips him off again. He purses his lips as he brings out his knife and throws it at the man. His hanging head is hit square in the middle. He is no longer mocking or judging him. The hanging man is sorrowful and scared.
He doesn't care to retrieve his knife. Who gives a fuck? Let the police find him if they want. He'll slaughter them as well. No one. No one gets in between him and his Canute.
He walks out of the entrance and stands at the front of the church. He takes a pack of matches from his pocket. He lights one and watches it burn for a moment. He watches it burn until it almost fizzles out, and then he throws it into the church. It's glorious. It's magnificent. A demonic halo of fire sprouts up from the once-pristine church.
The air around him smells of ash and fallen angels. He watches the church as it burns down. It's in the middle of a secluded forest. Perhaps the forest will catch fire. That'd be nice. Thorfinn would like that.
He hears the grating sound of police sirens, so he books it out of there. His legs are revitalized with a new sense of energy as the sun slowly begins to rise. He makes his way through the dense forest and narrowly evades their search dogs. He scales up the side of the hospital building as he knocks on Canute's window.
Canute is unaware of where the sound is as his eyes are bandaged in cloth. Were he able to see how disheveled Thorfinn looked, he would have started weeping. He would have started questioning.
He calls out, and once he hears Thorfinn's voice, he relaxes immediately. His entire body is wrapped in cloth, and he is unable to move. He hates it here. He hates everything. He wishes that they would all burn.
He is met with a comforting hand on his head as a strangely sticky substance seems to coat it. Perhaps it's just the drugs overworking Canute's mind. He wants to speak but is vastly unable to do so as his vocal cords were greatly damaged during- He can't. He'll start sobbing again.
"May I?" Thorfinn inquires in an oddly soothing voice that pacifies him. He feels Thorfinn gently ghost his bruised lips with one of his fingers. An unbearable yearning spreads across Canute's body as he nods weakly.
Skin meets skin in a kiss so loving that not even the oldest of couples would be able to replicate it. They are both there until they are no longer able to breathe. The connection between their lips seems to allow Canute's wounds to stop aching for a moment. It allows Thorfinn's thirst for revenge to be quenched for a moment.
Thorfinn pulls away his lips for only a moment as he murmurs, "I love you, Canute."
From across the hospital, the nurses all crowd around the small television in their break room. A breaking news alert springs across their screen, and they are slightly intrigued and greatly worried. They turn to Channel Six news as their hearts sink into their stomachs. Oh, no.
"Sixty-six church members burned to a crisp inside one of Denmark's oldest churches. It's very early, but the police are suspecting foul play. They believe it may have a correlation with another case that happened just a few days ago. A young man came out as bisexual to his church congregation and was brutally beaten. Was this an act of violence or righteous retribution? I'm Arnheid, and you're watching Channel Six news."
I totally forgot I did this... Does anyone want to see my Vinland Saga commentary? It's really random and funny (to me).
Also- I need a new phone and my old phone won't charge... and it's almost dead... so if I don't post for a while... it's because I don't have a working electronic to post on.
Have a little sneak peek :3
Rewatching VS Season 1 and there's this wrinkly old rasin fuck again.
• Head of the Aesir gods. Odin is the Norse god of war, poetry, wisdom, and death. He gathers his portion of the slain warriors in Valhalla. Odin has a spear, Grungir, that never misses. He makes any sacrifice for the sake of knowledge. (his eye)
Frigg "Odin’s wife, Queen of Asgard."
• Cabin Two
• Goddess of love and fate, described as having the power of prophecy yet she does not reveal what she knows.
Thor "Son of Odin"
• Cabin Three
• Norse god of thunder, the sky, and agriculture.
Loki "Sworn brother of Odin"
• Cabin Four
• Trickster god - Helps other gods out of their problems.
Baldr "son of Frigg and Odin, sweetheart of Asgard"
• Cabin Five
• Peacemaker in Asgard: mediated conflicts between Asgardian gods and mankind. (related with the traits of peace and abundance.)
Freyja (Freya) "‘lady’ or ‘mistress’"
• Cabin Six
• Norse goddess of magic, love, fertility and lust.
Freyr "Freyja's twin brother"
• Cabin Seven
• God of fertility and reproductive health in men - associated with tranquility, peace and wealth - bringer of sunshine and good weather conditions.
Heimdall "Nothing escapes his eyes"
• Cabin Eight
• Aesir deity that stands guard at the entrance or passages leading to the various realms (nine realms).
Tyr "Advocate for justice and truth"
• Cabin Nine
• God of War
Idun "Magical Apple Goddess"
• Cabin Ten
• Norse goddess of beauty, youthfulness and fertility. Her secret elixir to perpetual immortality was contained in her magical apples, which she gave to the gods on Asgard.
Gefjon "Single handedly plowed Lake Mälaren"
• Cabin Eleven
● Goddess of ploughing and agriculture.
Njördr (Njord/Njorth) "Father of Freyja and Freyr"
• Cabin Twelve
• Vanir sea and wind god
Skade "Wife of Njord"
• Cabin Thirteen
• Goddess of hunting, mountains and skiing.
Camp Half-Blood
Askeladd (Camp Director)
~ Askeladd is the most famous and well-known of all of Odin's sons. He is thousands of years old and regularly visits Vahalla. He has been known to lay with many Valkyrie and even (allegedly) had a one-night stand with the goddess Freyja. He has been known to regularly taunt a camper known as Thorfinn and is never seen without Bjorn by his side.
Bjorn (Activities Director)
~ Bjorn is half Jötnar (frost giant) and half God. He is the son of Idun and regularly visits her. He helps her tend to her magical foods and always gets his enchanted berserker mushrooms from her. Out of all of Idun's children, Bjorn is her favorite by far. He has also been known to have many mead drinking contests with Thor and is often one of the first ones to point fingers towards Loki whenever something goes awry.
Thorfinn (Cabin Nine)
~ One of his fathers is the god Tyr, and his other father is a man named Thors. He absolutely fucking hates Askeladd with all of his guts for killing his father. Unfortunately, he did not inherit much of either his father's morality or sense of peaceful justice. He is often seen with two daggers that were gifted to him by Tyr to protect himself.
~ He has grown close with another camper named Einar. However, he seems to be aggressively flirting (?) with a camper named Canute. Nobody is really able to tell if he really likes Canute or really hates him. Gudrid is always following him around like a lost puppy, and no matter how many times Thorfinn threatens to kill her, she just won't leave him alone.
Canute (Cabin Six)
~ Canute is the son of the goddess Freyja. He was born in the body of a woman and realized that he was meant to be a man. So he decided to be a complete genderfuck to society, and Freyja supports him through this. Freyja blessed him with a new male body and kept some of his more feminine features (upon his request) that will grow into fine masculine traits.
~ This is to soften the blow of how unsupportive and vile his father is towards him. However, Sweyn knows any great harm to Canute will cause Freyja to sick Loki on him. Next thing you know, Sweyn wakes up in Niflheim.
More of Canutes daddy issues except his father is a mortal and his mother supports him? Yes, please.
~ Canute is often seen near the nymphs and faes, discussing things with them and spending valuable time with them. He always ends up getting harassed (?) or oddly supported (?) by Thorfinn. Thorfinn always jumps in and threatens to kill anybody who lays a hand on Canute. Canute has grown to quite like Einar and Gudrid. He can also be seen occasionally studying with Arnheid.
Einar (Cabin Eleven)
~ Einar is a feminist and loves farming, so of course he is the son of Gefjon. The benevolent earth faes are often around Einar, watching him work on the earth and using his magic to allow it to grow. To uses his magic to grow flowers and fruits for Arnheid. He gets quite frustrated at the fact that Arnheid is more interested in Gardar than him. He respects her feelings but is still saddened by them. Every time he realizes this, his plants seem to wilt.
~ He spends a lot of time with Thorfinn and always trains with him. He always loses, but it's better than having to face Sigurd. Sigurd is always threatening Einar about stealing his future wife. (?) He is still quite confused about why Gudrid would want to marry a man like Sigurd. He has no feelings for her.
An actual conversation between Einar and Sigurd. (I know... I was there.)
"I think I want to study milking cows." Einar states passively as he walks towards one of the many barns on the camp.
"You can't study milking cows." Sigurd states in an irritated tone as he crosses his arms over his chest and huffs.
"Yuh, huh, yes, you can! Garm told me about it!"
"Garm... Son of Loki... You're stupid Einar. No way you're ever stealing my future wife!"
*Insert both of them getting in a fist fight and Garm hiding in a bush..... giggling like a madman.*
Gudrid (Cabin Two)
~ Gudrid is the daughter of Frigg and is treated like the queen of the camp. She is quite kind (albeit a bit of a bitch behind certain campers backs. *cough cough*) Frigg is quite doting upon her but tries to keep her on Midgard most of her days. Loki has a strange attachment to her, and it worries Frigg greatly.
~ She often follows Thorfinn around camp and tries to get his attention. She asks her mother if perhaps she could set something up between the both of them. She really, really likes Thorfinn. Although he keeps giving all of his attention to this Canute guy.
Arnheid (Cabin Five)
~ Arnheid is the daughter of Baldr. She inherited a lot of her good nature and peaceful personality from him. Baldr allowed her mother immortality, and their love story is so sweet that it makes her heart swoon. She wants a family of her own one day. She hopes for another camper, Gardar. He's so handsome and managed to save her life from a dragur (Norse equivalent of a zombie/evil spirit).
~ She spends a lot of time with Einar and Gudrid. She enjoys how kind and caring Einar is towards the Earth and all of those around him. She met Frigg once, and she is absolutely... Arnheid is unable to even explain it(in a good way). She frequently visits Vahalla and is treated as sweetly as her father. She is training to be a healer within the camp. There are very few healers, sadly, and Arnheid has the ability to be one of them.
Hild (Cabin Thirteen)
~ Hild just emanates Skade energy. So it makes sense that they are related. One of my favorite goddesses fr fr. Hild ended up getting injured after an attack on the camp, which is how she got her scar. She was blessed with a magical crossbow that she helped create. Which is what she uses to hunt evil spirits through the cursed woods. She is only able to stand Gudrid, and she often sleeps in her cabin with her.
Snake (Cabin Twelve)
~ Snake is half Naga and half God. He is the son of Njördr. He has a permanent bunk in Cabin 12, as he is one of the guards of the camp and a protected species. He makes a nest of blankets and furs on his bed and sleeps in it. He doesn't interact with people much, but he is quite cordial when he does. He doesn't allow anyone to hurt any of the campers, as he is very protective of them.
~ He has a checkered pattern of black and white scales that run along his slightly longer than average tail (about twelve feet long). From the waist up, he is human-looking and immortal. He is younger than Askeladd and about the same age as Bjorn.
~ He wouldn't be bold enough to say that he considers them friends, but they'll occasionally drink mead together and protect each other if the other is in trouble.
Thorkell (Cabin Three)
~ Are. You. Surprised. Of course, Thorkell is the son of the mighty Thor. He is the co-camp director, although Askeladd won't officially give him that title. It's a long story that involves Valkyries and Fenrir. Thorkell still calls himself the camp director and often takes the campers on dangerous (and fun!) missions. He's been grounded once or twice by Askeladd, and he just ignores Askeladd. He likes Bjorn as well, but Bjorn really dislikes him because Askeladd doesn't like him.
~ He often speaks praise of the Valkyries and their feats and is quite jealous of them, despite being a demigod. He spends a lot of his time (when he is grounded by Askeladd) in Vahalla with Thor. He drinks and eats as much as he can with the fallen soldiers. He is definitely a fan favorite and easily Thor's son.
~ He always harasses Thorfinn, and he absolutely hates his guts. Thorfinn always tries to kill Thorkell and doesn't care about the consequences. Thorkell lost his eye to Thorfinn, and now he and Odin match. Thorkell is also like the chill hippie dude who is also the counselor to all of the campers.
Garm (Cabin Four)
~ The chaotic and evil Garm is the child of Loki. He's always tricking Thorfinn and dragging him off to fight him. Thorfinn just can't get a break. Garm is always tricking other campers into the cursed woods, and few people wish to be associated with him. He is known for causing chaos and death and saving people when they most need it.
~ Garm loves hanging around with Thorkell and sparring with him any chance he gets. He often blows off classes except for training. He spends a lot of his time in the cursed woods (no one knows why or how he survives). He always comes back with his spear bloodied.
Wulf (Cabin Eight)
~ He is one of the mentally ill campers. He is always near Canute, giving him advice on various topics. He is able to divine the future and see (somewhat limitedly) across the nine realms. Heimdall taught him all of this.
~ He is the only camper in cabin eight and has the smallest cabin of them all. There were two other campers, but they mysteriously disappeared (some say Garm was the reason for their disappearance). However, Wulf has never said anything about them disappearing either. He is able to see better than most, so they trust his judgment and willingness to remain quiet and stoic.
~ He is quite fond of Canute's half-sister Estrid, even if she doesn't go to the camp.
Sigurd (Cabin Seven)
~ Sigurd has never been to Vahalla but is planning on going this summer. He hopes to be blessed by Freyr (his father) and get Gudrid's hand in marriage.
~ He gets into arguments with Einar and hates the man. He isn't greatly skilled in his blessings (magic) yet, so he is often frustrated. He hopes that Freyr will show him the way. Perhaps Freyja will bless him as well. Maybe he should go to Canute and get on his good side...
Most of the Vinland Saga characters are aged down here (to their early/late teens/early adulthood). Except for Askeladd, Bjorn, Snake, and Thorkell who are aged up (still look the same).
If you are wondering why more God's aren't on here, I'm keeping with the theme of the au, where they start out with major God's cabins and then build out to more minor ones. (I also had to use God's that would fit with the more prominent Vinland Saga characters.)
Honorable mention to Hel (the goddess of death). She was banished, so naturally any children that she may have would be shunned from the camp. Conflict on that later.
• ° • ° • ° • ° • ° •
Norse Mythology Resource
Norse Mythology Resource [#2]
Norse Mythology Resource [#3]
I have a lot more resources if you all want to do your research. These are just the ones I used for a quick refresher. Just ask me for recommendations on links, books, or experts if you want them! There's a lot of misinformation about the Norse gods and culture, so be aware of that while learning. I wish their culture and religion was better preserved.
