Certified Dilf Enjoyer

What gets better with age? Men.

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WHAT YOU WILL FIND ON THIS PROFILE

Snippets of fanfics about Askeladd:

Longer, slow burn fic with romance sub-plot and a historical, political intrigue at the forefront - Ao3 - Debt of Flesh - mature rating, no smut but plenty of trigger warnings.

A short one shot with hallucinations and a quick vision of the future - Ao3 - You shall surpass those who brought you here - General audiences, no trigger warnings.

2. Threads related to Raphael from Baldur's Gate 3 (older content, no longer my interest): For anything else related to the content I make, you can also take a look at my straw page

Series of videos showing scenes with every Raphael's dialogue interactions, removed/bugged lines included: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLliVjF4AV2B5jjCgzYdHbXUIcGqSgTzds Link to the Google Drive with scenepacks. Includes OG scenes, as well as some modified ones (adjusted camera angles): https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1V3t1j_NIfgDL_YsdEezykqLd8PL3lV_z?usp=drive_link Link to my Wallpaper Engine workshop with tons of Raphael animated wallpapers, some even with sounds coming from campfire etc: https://steamcommunity.com/id/CallmeClaudii/myworkshopfiles/?p=2

The paths to Raphael interactions you can use to play with Dialogue parser: Dialogs/Camp/Campfire_Moments/CAMP_MonitorIntro_CFM.html Act1/Forest/FOR_Monitor_Dinner.html Act1/Forest/FOR_Monitor_AD_Vanish.html /Camp/Campfire_Moments/CAMP_Monitor_AvD_RevealPartySecrets.html Act2/Shar/SHA_Orthon_AD_MonitorLeaves.html Act2/Shar/SHA_Raphael.html Act2/Haven/HAV_MolsDeal_Raphael.html (there't plenty near this file, like 'ThreeWay') Act3/Wyrm/WYR_RaphaelTango_Raphael_SoloScene.html (plenty other files around this one, as well) Act3/LowerCity/HouseOfHope/LOW_HouseOfHope_RaphaelAppearance.html (a lot of stuff around here) Act3/EndGame/END_IllithidOptions_RaphaelLastChance.html Act3/EndGame/END_GameFinale_RaphaelCrownUpdate.html Raphael's Commandments (screenshots) Screenshots of Raphael:

Puppy eyes Cvnty poses Ascended Form Gale Epilogue Sleeping beauty Gestures & poses What's a contract without whimsy, I say Solar Eclipse and Amber Inside the Astral Prism Morphed into Mizora Devil's Den 1 Devil's Den 2 Loving gaze Last Light Inn 1 Last Light Inn 2 Last Light Inn 3 Sussur Tree As Shadowheart Shadowlands Shadowlands 2 Various 1 Various 2 (Cazador & Astarion) Various 3 (Bhaalist & Astarion) Various 4 (Sarevok) House of Hope 1 House of Hope 2 Cambion full body Palms and Claws

Lore (books & scrolls): Part 1 Part 2 Unfinished dialogue from the Epilogue Party House of Hope study of aesthetics (I go over materials used to build the place, show the statues, explain the aesthetics): https://www.tiktok.com/@callmeclaudii/photo/7345921314646920480?lang=en

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Strawpage requests dump

I've been getting plenty of requests for Vinsaga characters on straw page! Here are some I like most

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"Can you draw Snake as a cat boy please 🥺" Yes!! https://callmeclaudii.straw.page

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Tiktok fandom loved this WIP screenshot so I’m sharing it here.

Feel free to drop a request, I’m currently doing my best to improve my drawing skills so I’d gladly challenge myself to draw from imagination more

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Sketch Askeladd sleeping. Pretty please?

Of course!! Thank you for the request 💖💖🙏 I tried a slightly different approach, hope you won't mind. And feel free to ask for more :) Eeping on a longship

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Vinland Saga X Don't Starve

Askeladd, master of survival

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Askeladd fanart, illustration for a fanfic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/85299246

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Debt Of Flesh - Askeladd X Fem!OC - Completed Story

Synopsis: "To avoid the arranged marriage set up to secure a trade route between Dublin and Rhuddlan (Northern Wales), Skuld ("Debt"), a daughter from Irish-Norwegian family runs away with her trained wolves to the Northern Mercia. Pushed away by the cruelty of her future husband, she aims to find a herbalist who could help her become infertile, in fears that her children may be a victim to his wrath. Hungry and distressed, she travels to Lancaster, which just a few days ago has been claimed by a raid. Skuld becomes forced to change her plans and attempts to sneak by the Viking mercenaries, but one of her wolves blows her cover, initiating a confrontation with their leader. Despite the attempts at disguising her gender, Askeladd immediately recognises her as a potential valuable ransom. Soon after, Skuld experiences first-hand the cruelty of the world of men, and quarrels with the leader who skillfully utilizes her meekness to uncover the truth about the trade deal."

TAGS: Enemies to Lovers, Slow burn, Bittersweet ending, Historical Fiction, Romance elements, mentions of rape and miscarriage, Arranged Unsuccessful Marriage, Major character injury & recovery, Bathing, Haircuts

A NSFW fragment below:

The young woman looked at Gratianus, requesting him to tell her the rest of the story and what two of them went through.

"I shall leave this up to Askeladd," he said and stood up to leave. "It seems to me that you could use some privacy." He bowed formally and left the hut.

Skuld stared at the now closed door, listening to the rustling of parchment and the cracks of the hearth.

"How is your health?" he asked calmly after a prolonged silence.

"It's just as good as before... the whole thing."

"The whole thing," the man echoed her and clasped the book shut with his palm.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked, shifting in her seat.

"Yes."

"What for?" she asked, watching him fold his arms. "Askeladd, there wasn't time to think!" she protested. "I was meant to take a guard with me, but I thought you may be inside, so I didn't want to cause trouble. And Dux pretty much returned early because of me doing that. I felt responsible, and also you were there and—"

He shut her mouth with his, lips clashing with hers until he zapped all the air out of her lungs. "Foolish girl," he breathed heavily, pulling her up by the collar.

She managed to make a weak sound before he silenced her again, trapping her between him and the table. Askeladd shoved the chair away, toppling it over without a care in the world. Her palms landed flat on the hard surface. She turned away from his face, trying to catch a breath which kept hitching in her throat from the relentless assault of his skilled hands. He pushed her forward and she hissed in pleasure, feeling him holding her in place as his hips ground her way up her ass. She rested her forehead on the table, deferring completely to his lead.

Where his instinct told him to take, her instinct told to give. In moments he had shifted his focus back to her, she rewarded with caresses, pecks and licks. He showed her other ways, not so approved by most of the Christians; taught her to angle her body to ease the access, and she listened attentively to his pants and laboured groans, finding delight in repeating what had triggered them.

They faced one another, then faced away again, bodies repeatedly connecting, filling the room with ungodly sounds. Askeladd grasped her hair, ripping out a moan brimming with lust out of the strained reins of her composure. He smiled toothily, sweat gathering at his bushy eyebrows as he slowed down, holding onto her roots. With each exhale, he bolted forward, watching with sick fascination her body almost collapsing onto the table.

"Askeladd!" she whined and reached with her weak arms to hold onto his forearm.

He stopped, slipped out of her and let go of her hair. Before she slumped, he took hold of her arms and sat on the bed, bringing her to his lap.

"Give old man a break," he teased, smirking at the sight of her hazy eyes. He managed to find a comfortable angle, and let her decide on the pace.

Skuld supported her arm on the wall, thighs burning as she sent her body up and back to his hips. Once again, she found herself barely capable of breathing— the look he constantly gave her not helping in the least. She never understood how he could always make her so feel so small and find a way for such sensation to intoxicate.

His hand shot forward to trap her jaw. A sudden spark of fear ignited her eyes, mouth parting in response. He loved all her reactions. Whether loud, tiny, or concealed by a sloppy mask of propriety—they drove him crazy just as much as his gaze and voice drove her.

"All this talk of you sailing away and you can't even keep a steady rhythm," he hissed coldly, bringing her close to his chest, then laying on his back.

Skuld managed to reach his mouth, feverishly tangling with his tongue until he pressed at her scalp, trapping her face in the crook of his neck. Askeladd supported his legs at the footrest of the bed, hoping that whichever carpenter constructed this frame knew exactly what it should withstand.

It didn't took him long to feel her tremble. Small, pitiable sounds kept escaping her mouth, preventing her from skimming at his sensitive skin. When her whole body convulsed, then froze with his name on her mouth, he gently rolled over, trapping the weak body beneath him. She moaned loudly just at the sensation of his intrusion, bringing a bright smile to his face. A few thrusts later, he swiftly moved away, reaching his own climax with a few practiced strokes.

They lay in peace, bodies sharing their warmth, chests heaving in a joint rhythm. After a somewhat modest hygiene routine, they returned back to bed, Askeladd's fingers finding a way to tangle with her strands. She asked him about his time in Rhuddlan. He began to talk, arms folded behind his head, and she awarded him with an affectionate kiss every time she was impressed by his wit.

By the time he concluded the story, she was already sleeping with her nose pressed suspiciously close to his armpit. Askeladd wished he could smile, but his mind was plagued by the comparisons to his loathed maker.

As soon as the first sunrays shone across the morning sky, he slid off the bed and put on his clothes. He looked back at her, so pretty and unaware of his tainted thoughts. The raider inside of him pulled at his chains, ordering to leave. After all, she was a part of his spoils. A reward to seek and take once the job had been done. She was a property he laid claim to and could discard without care. But the memory of his father and the trust his mother placed in her son held him indoors.

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Debt of Flesh - Askeladd X OC - WHOLE STORY HERE

She grasped the nail he pressed between the planks, twirling it away to his side. "I have news."

"Go ahead."

"There isn't a key ring, but there is a master key."

"What's the face of its bearer?"

"You won't need him at all," she couldn't stop a small chuckle.

Askeladd frowned, unsure what to expect.

"I will toss you something above the fence. It's fragile, please catch it."

He moved away from the wall and looked up at the cloudy morning sky. Skuld sneaked her head from the outhouse, observing her bodyguard who himself felt the need to answer the call of nature. She swiftly slid to the frozen grass and gently sent her offering to the man behind the fence. Askeladd caught it, a bit disgusted at the potential implication of a semi-warm solid object coming from the outhouse. Upon a second glance, his face stretched in shock.

Skuld snuck back inside, awaiting any response. "Do you have it?" she asked eventually, afraid it could've broken.

The man leaned his back on the wall, partly happy and disappointed there was an obstacle between them. "Yes."

"Will this do?" the young woman prompted. "Do you still want to know the man's face?"

"No," he replied simply, taking a deep breath of cool air. "You've been an incredible help, Skuld."

She smiled, dragging her fingertips across the hard planks, wishing it was his soft hair instead.

"What of the rue?"

"I will keep trying."

"Thank you."

"I may not show up tomorrow, though," he informed in advance. "I need to copy the key."

"Watch out for yourself," her mouth blurted out, making her blush.

He closed his eyes and grinned. "You wouldn't be concerned if there was nothing for you to gain," he mocked her in a comedic, high-pitched tone.

Her mouth found a way to the crook of the elbow and halted there until she regained composure. "Perhaps not. You can go now," she tried sounding coldly and failed.

[fir890]

another year, another "askeladd faces i'm very happy with" post. Trying to blend that handsomeness from the anime with his super expressiveness from the manga. It's a bit maddening sometimes.

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Debt of Flesh - Chapter 13 - OC X Askeladd

The moment she reached towards the stool, the wall next to her shifted and she stood eye-to-eye with the person who had brought her here in the first place.

Despite a winter fur hat hiding his bushy eyebrows, a clean shaven face, a red woolen robe with intricate patterns on the sleeves, and no sword at his side, she was convinced that it was Askeladd who stood before her. Still, the element of surprise rendered her speechless, so she kept staring straight into his eyes with a deep, confounded frown. But she wasn't the only person who felt taken aback by the sight of differences upon a familiar face.

"Evening," he said nonchalantly.

"What are you doing here? And who is the man with you?"

"You don't need to know that right now," he responded and watched her expression become increasingly more concerned.

"Why?" she asked and stepped backwards.

His own face mirrored her frown, arm extending in an attempt to catch her while she withdrew. He had gone through the vision of their re-union at least a dozen times, and neither of his predictions prepared him for such a paranoid, fearful response.

In a matter of a few heartbeats, her mind became flooded with snippets of memories, past theories and thoughts she had about the leader of mercenaries; his peculiar knowledge of matters involving the Roman history and Wales; his-non-Norse-but-otherwise-unspecified breastplate; his convincing arguments towards her return to Rhuddlan; and finally their conversation about the possibility of disposing of her forever. A million thoughts weltered in her brain, convincing her that she had fallen victim to yet another scheme. What if he had been working for Terentius this whole time? Even Askeladd's slightly uncanny resemblance to her own husband which finally became so obvious without the goatee covering his face made her want to turn back and leave.

Askeladd reacted in an instant, catching her in his arms before she slipped away. She opened her mouth, but he muffled it with his wide hand.

"Calm down," he said quietly, holding her close, noticing that her shoulders lost some of their strength. "What has gotten into you?" he asked, struggling with reading her in such distress.

Full story here

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You shall surpass those who brought you here (Askeladd & Thorfinn) Ao3

Tags: Emotional hurt/comfort, Hallucinations, A glimpse into the future, one shot, general audiences

A cool, moist air settled across the land, obscuring both the intact and the ruined huts with a thick blanket of fog. It was still dim, right before the dawn. A bunch of drunk Vikings lay scattered around the village, some near the smouldering campfires, others under the roof of an open shed, unfazed by the proximity to stiffened corpses of men, women or children.

Askeladd stepped outside to a singular street connecting all the houses together, and fixed his green, embroidered cowl. There was plenty of digging ahead of them. The dead villagers must be buried, lest they won't stand staying here for a couple more days. His eyes scanned the aftermaths of the raid, the pictures of blood and death clashed with the pleasant sound of singing birds and a faint, earthy smell coming from the riverbank. It was just another day. Another daybreak despite the events of the night. He turned towards the shore at a leisurely gait.

The fog here was much denser, reducing visibility to a point where he had almost walked over one of his snoozing men. Askeladd stopped to look at his face. The mercenary's mouth was shut, but his eyes remained wide open, frozen in something akin to panic. He waited a few seconds before pushing his shoe into the man's side, watching him twitch and blabber something about showing mercy to his brother.

The blonde man frowned and looked to the side, locating another one of his pawns. His state was similar, although instead of being prone, he sat with his back hunched, staring off past the longship to the far end of the river. It wasn't any form of a typical intoxication, Askeladd knew as much, but only when the singing of birds ceased—or rather turned into echoing sounds of clashing swords and chains—he had realised something must've been spreading through the air.

He ducked his head, cautiously avoiding the thickest layer of the fog hanging above him and covered his nose with his grey sleeve. He grasped the collar of the nearest Viking and tossed him away from the shore, then rolled another one with the help of his boot.

"Askeladd!" one of them rasped, suddenly becoming animated.

"Cover your mouth and drag the others away," he ordered, vanishing towards the shore.

He had no particular intentions of helping each of his trapped men out of the fog, but he did throw a few of them out on his way to one of the ships.

"Thorfinn!" he called, passing between the shrubs overgrowing the shore. "Boy! Get out of the fog if you're here!" he ordered, risking inhaling more of the now heavy, herbal scent.

A few branches snapped below his feet, the altered senses turning the normally firm sensation to a soft, cushioned one, making him stop just a few paces next to the Thors' longship. Askeladd looked down. The twigs seemed to move; their brown bark darkened, sprouting out a few needle-like shapes. They remained small and outstretched for a while, then coiled towards their centres, gradually losing their saturated tinge, turning into swollen shapes mimicking dry leaves.

There was a movement at the bow of the ship, a figure much taller than Thorfinn, yet unintelligible even from a few paces away. He looked towards it, just as the dull clumps cracked open beneath his feet, revealing beautiful wings which spread out and without hesitation soared into the sky. He stepped closer to the shore, eyes set on the figure guarding the ship. A familiar sight of a blonde goatee, elongated face and bushy eyebrows made his hand shoot towards the handle of his sword, until a split second later he noticed a much shorter hairstyle and a sharper look nesting in the cold eyes. It was him. He was looking at himself. The sound of chains died away.

Askeladd quirked his eyebrow, the figure reacting to it with a content smirk, unbothered by a deep wound leading right to the depths of its still heart. The man climbed on board the longship, silently observed by the reflection of himself. Behind the vision was a boy... No, a young man. His hair was short and for once neatly combed, complexion decorated with two scars. His face was peaceful and kind, far-off from the expression of the Thorfinn he knew, yet not a single doubt surfaced in his mind when he watched the former warrior resting on his knees, hands clenched as if holding onto fistfuls of fabric. It had to be him.

The leader leaned forward and gave the boy a few pats on the shoulder, trying to get him out of the trance.

"I offer your heart to the spirit of my father," Thorfinn snapped at the the deck of the ship.

Askeladd grasped the boy by his side and dragged him to the starboard, careful not to bump his head on one of the rowing benches, but not feeling charitable enough to scoop him in his arms. He took a deep breath from the crook of his elbow, then jumped to the shore and tugged at Thorfinn's hood, pulling him to the moist sand.

He began walking away, his gaze remaining focused on Thorfinn's eyes and their enchanting look, so similar to the one he had once seen on Thor's face. Each step erased more sophisticated contours of the young, amicable man, replacing them with harsh, angry lines of a glaring teenager. The peaceful smile was nowhere to be found, giving way to a nasty smirk of a hunter, who had finally caught his fleeing prey.

When the boy's eyes blinked, bringing forth some sense of clarity to his confused mind, Askeladd let go of his collar and dropped his head to the the grass. Thorfinn frowned and lowered his outstretched arms, realizing that whatever he had been holding this whole time was not the body of his opponent who apparently had been alive and quite well.

"You will be fine," Askeladd declared with a mild look on his face. Thorfinn blinked twice, clearing away what surely must've been an illusion. "Just stay out of the fog," the older man added and strolled over to the village.

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Debt of Flesh - Chapter 12

Askeladd x OC, a fragment of a chapter fleshing out the main plot:

"I was made aware that the marriage which secured the trade deal had been signed under somewhat unconventional circumstances, meaning the amobyr for the girl's hand was lower than specified in Hywel Dda. While that in itself isn't of course a problem, as both Gulbrand and Terentius agreed to the deal, it does make me wonder whether the information about such a decision would be submitted to someone else. And if so, who would approve of a lower expense of a noble who so desperately tries to show off his skills in making money?"

"I think that the girl running away was more scandalous than him paying less for her hand. If anything she helped him save his face. He would be perfectly justified to demand a lower amobyr after her escape."

"That is true," admitted Askeladd. "Yet she found out about this long before the idea of escape sprouted in her head. Terentius and Gulbrand toyed with the details of the marriage. Dux must've felt that he has plenty of room to improvise, all the while knowing that the successful establishment of a route to Dublin will put him in a spotlight with nobles and likely the king."

"Are you wondering whether his schemes have royal approval?" Gratianus asked. "It's unlikely. The current king of Gwynedd is a sorry pipsqueak. It's been only 5 years since his coronation and the only notable thing he has done is wearing the crown," Gratianus spoke with spite. "I don't suspect him of scheming anything in regards to Dublin or Chester."

"So, if anything you think that Terentius operates alone?"

"Yes. He may had been inspired by his royal king and his questionable ascension to the throne and saw a future for himself."

"Hmm," Askeladd hummed without a trace of surprise. "That's exactly how I felt about him. Ambition without much substance."

"A dangerous mix."

"Still, let's not stop questioning the possible royal support yet. If we were to assume the king Aeddan was behind it all, who would you reach out to?"

Gratianus froze in thought like a regal statue immortalized in marble.

"I would report to my lord and he would likely travel to Seisyll's court. Their family is strong, quick witted. They often sense opportunity. And they would certainly see one in that situation. The king of Powys would eye the chance for an expansion," the commander said. "Then again, it's not like we have any power over the north. What matters most is to keep Danes outside the borders." Askeladd nodded in approval. "But for that we still need a solid proof. No noble will support our cause in its current form. I could arrange for a few scouts to join your efforts... I also remember you writing about Gulbrand's weaknesses—for women, was it? Although, Dublin is far and I can't afford to keep sending out my warships in crazed hopes of obtaining some valuable information."

"I have a different approach in mind, commander."

"Go ahead."

"Rhuddlan has a small marketplace which will only grow. Reach out to Terentius, see if you can send out a merchant or two. Plant your men in his territory, start a network."

Gratianus stared at the Viking in thought. "I compliment your efficiency, Askeladd. This is certainly the best approach. However, the word takes days to travel that far north. I could potentially visit the region once in a while to shorten the time it would take for a messenger to reach me. I would also prefer it if my agents could estimate the worth of obtained information. We are probing in the dark, not knowing what exactly it is that we're looking for." He looked at the fireplace again and shifted in his seat. "The woman from the deal, Skuld, she saw a letter written in Norse. I need a competent man, one who blends in and knows Welsh, Norse and perhaps even English. One that can recognise the value of intel." His eyes landed on Askeladd's face, the Viking standing to attention. Gratianus chuckled. "I am truly in luck."

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Askeladd with a Welsh Guards insignia

[m1ons]

askeladd photocard for my phone....

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Debt of Flesh - Chapter 11 Askeladd X OC

A bit steamy this time around

She looked at him again as he made corrections to his work. He quirked his eyebrow. In a heartbeat, she felt the blood leaving her limbs. Something in his gaze changed; it was as if the time had reversed all the way back to their duel, only that this time, their minds were the only weapons allowed on the battlefield.

She swallowed. "You wanted a haircut?"

"Mhm." He cleaned his neck and cheeks with a rug.

Askeladd passed her his belongings and she stepped behind him to gently comb his hair. "How much do you want me to trim?"

He rose his palm to his ears and caught a bit of his hair between his fingers. She narrowed her eyes to see his instructions clearly. "About this much. I don't like when it begins to cover my ears."

"I will do my best."

She worked diligently, carefully snipping off tiny bits of his hair, quickly establishing a more confident rhythm.

"How does it feel now?" Skuld asked after some time, leaning sideways to look at his face.

He brushed his hair with his palms. "Much better. Thank you."

"Uh—" She pressed down on his shoulders, stopping him from getting up. "If I may, I have a suggestion." A searing look he gave her almost made her choke on her next words: "I could trim some more here, so that your hair follows the shape of your head." She discarded the comb and treaded his strands with her fingers, scraping his scalp. He closed his eyes, fighting off a grin. "Just a bit," she said quietly, scratching the hair at his nape, letting her fingers travel up his skull.

"Be my guest," replied Askeladd.

She resumed her work, putting an equal effort into the haircut and distracting the one receiving it. She snapped the shears, then grazed his ear with her fingers, snipped off a strand, and caressed his neck. When she finished, she twisted the excess of water from the rug and brushed the loose hairs from his skin and his gambeson.

"I'm done," she informed quietly and dove towards his neck.

He exhaled slowly, feeling her lips on his skin, a delightful shiver coursing through his spine. Her nibbling screamed of inexperience and stress, but her gentleness and consideration for his pleasure rapidly overshadowed any flaws of her technique.

He reached for her collar and pulled her sideways into his lap, her faint exhale of surprise muffled by his skin. He angled his neck, letting her explore further, satisfied she took the given opportunity. Askeladd enjoyed her silly game, not simply because of her feeble attempts at seduction, but rather due to having his impervious self-control tested and emerging victorious.

"Keep me," she said to his ear, before tracing it with her lips.

He shifted his leg, feeling the tightening fabric of his trousers. A smirk he kept stopping finally stretched his face.

"I'm truly amazed, Skuld. To think you'd go thus far to see if it gets you out of the deal." She kissed his temple and trailed lower across his cheekbone, unable to meet his smug gaze. "Think of what you are asking of me," he added to her ear.