Hello!! Today I want to show you a page inspired by the Porter Robinson song and the Nurture album in general ❤🩹🤍🤲
This is one of the most important artworks for me... I painted it in honor of my 3rd anniversary of loving Halfdan 🥹 While Porter Robinson's creation helped me get out of a long period of apathy and believe in myself. Simply... Listen to Nurture and you'll understand what I mean 😌
Also... I can say that this applies to my AU... Here, Halfdan doesn't die and soon wakes up among the ruins of The Chasm... However, in this particular art, he seems to be more like a soul. He has a vague memory of his past, but still, some pieces of Halfdan's personality are beginning to fit together like a puzzle, and he is slowly remembering himself, starting with his name... In this state, Halfdan is more focused on his feelings and sensations, trying to listen to them in order to remember who he is 🤧🥺
Words: 2.296 | Credit: Gifs by the-Viking-hoad, everythingelseistaken8, & @charming-merlin
AN: Umm you had me sold immediately because it’s you! AND the combo of angst + drama + tension * HALFDAN! (See prompts in bold) enjoy my dear friend @naaladareia ❤️
Warnings: angst, tension, running away, fighting, wounding, creepy men who try to take reader, murder, being captured, bound by rope, sexual tension in dangerous situations
The life you had wasn’t the one you wanted. So you left, under the cover of darkess you used the shadows of the woods as you made your escape.
There was nothing for you, in this place called home. No family, no friends, no support. Too eccentric for their taste, you were always frowned down upon, seen as rebellious. You were expected to do as every woman did; be a wife, bear children, be submissive.
But you'd rather die. You rather die than live one more day like that, one more day accepting a life you didn’t want.
You were told again and again, your dreams were too big. Women like you, women of this place and of this faith were wives, mothers, caretakers; nothing more. Dreams of travel and independence were laughable, a sin.
You wished time and time again you were born elsewhere, to one of those cultures or places in the world where women were free. Where women could live on their own terms.
…
Pure adrenaline pushes you forward, as night turns to day. You push your body as far as you can, putting as much distance between you and your past as possible.
Exhaustion must have taken over at some point. What you meant to be a brief nap under the shade turned into a deep sleep for hours. You don’t wake until an anxious feeling shoots up your spine like electricity.
Jolting awake, you sit up to find two huge men towering over you.
“Look what we have here.” The heavier one growls, he looks like an animal who finally found a meal.
The shorter one takes a step closer, you pull your legs to your body.
“Now where did you come from? You lost?” He smirks at you as he kneels down.
Your heart is racing and it's like your body is frozen. A million ways to react run through your head but you just sit there, unable to move.
The big one grabs your ankle and tugs you forward. Your back hits the ground. You reach under your dress for your dagger. Pulling it from your stocking you swipe at him, catching him off guard. He stumbles back and you scurry to your feet, quickly regaining your balance as you hold the sharp blade higher.
“Stay away from me!” You shout.
The men exchange a glance and laugh. You take another step back and notice a steep drop a few steps away. If you can get one of them to fall over, you would have only one to fight. Even out your odds.
You move back slowly, keeping your eyes on them and counting the distance in your head.
The larger man makes a leap for you. You step aside and grip a nearby tree as he trips over the fallen log and tumbles downward. Swinging your weight around the tree, you come up behind the other one and slice the back of his left knee.
His painful scream mixes with the horrible sounds his partner makes as he hits a series of logs and rocks. You watch the thinner man fall to the ground before you, he grabs his leg.
“Now, what is this?” Someone says behind you in a deep scratchy voice.
Turning around, you hold your breath and clutch the weapon as your eyes fall upon a man. He’s dressed similarly to the others. His blue eyes burn into you, a smile on his lips.
You feel yourself blinking faster, beads of sweat rise on your forehead.
“Look at you. You did this all by yourself?”
In a quick jumpy movement, you turn around trying to find the source of the second voice.
Before you can locate the source, someone grabs you from behind. You drop the dagger as they lift you off your feet.
It all happens so fast. Ropes bind your wrists with a speed you can keep up with. Soon, you feel yourself get spun around. You come face to face with the man who bound you.
Intense brown eyes stare into yours, a devious grin on his lips. His face is tattooed, just like the brown haired one. When the wind blows, his face, previously shielded by his blonde hair, is fully revealed.
He leans in close, while keeping a tight grip on your bound wrists. “There's a wildeness in you. I feel it.”
You stop stirring and pulling on the ropes. He doesn't blink, he doesn't move. He just stares at you, through you.
For the first time in your life you feel seen, truly seen. Beyond being a woman with an attractive face and form that men wanted to bed. For the first time it feels like someone sees more in you.
A strange and uncomfortable mix of emotions stir in your body. You jerk your wrist hard and pound on his chest, just to break up whatever the hell was happening.
Instead of fighting you back, he calmly tightens the slack on your rope, his head tilted to the side as he observes you.
“I think she likes you!” The other one comments, a hint of laughter in his rasp.
He walks over to the man in pain and bleeding out in the ground. He nudges him with his booted foot. “Brother, what do you think?” He nudges the man again, then rest his foot on his side.
The blonde, with his eyes still on yours, responds with a chilling coldness, “kill him.”
His brother, delighted with the anwer, kicks the man over on his back before stepping on this chest. The man pleads with him desperately to no avail.
He curls over the man, his long brown braid falls over his shoulder as he growls, “I recall you questioning my decision.”
The man on the ground is near feverish now, he’s making no sense. Bargaining for his life is useless, no sooner do the words leave his lips, the brother drives the sword through his chest.
With a satisfied howl, the blonde one roughly drags you closer to his brother and hands him the ropes. He steps close to the falled tree and looks over the edge, a child-like grin fills his lips as he g;lances back at you both.
“Don’t go that way!” His brother shares his amusement, they both burst into laughter. Your eyes dart between the brothers.
The blonde one takes the axe from the dead man's belt and sets one foot on the tree as he focuses his aim. Once he’s satisfied, he sends the axe flying, like a dart in the air. From the awful sound you hear, if the man below wasn’t dead yet, he defintly is now.
Before you can process what's happening, the blonde one takes hold of your ropes again and pulls you forward. “Come on killer.”
You should fight him, run, spit at him, something. But you can’t. Your body betrays your mind and when they start to move, you move too. On the walk back you pull on the ropes and fuss every so often.
Each time you do so, he only looks back at you. Leaving you with the briefest of glances that touch your soul and awaken parts of you left unfulfilled and wanting for years.
...
When they arrive at their camp, there is no doubt left in your mind it's a viking camp. Though you’ve never seen any in person, until today, they are just as described. Huge, scary, tall, otherworldly.
And the women, in armour, wearing pants and boots with braids in their hair. It's unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, it's beyond your imagination. Although there aren't many of them, the few you see are such a sight, you can’t peel your eyes away. Much to the entertainment of your two escorts.
Then men tie you up in a tent and leave it open. Your arms are bound behind you as you sit on the ground. You should be feeling more fear than you are. But in a weird way you feel calm, calmer than you were with those other men. The men the brothers seemed to know but killed with ease.
Ignoring all the eyes on you, you scan as much of the site you can. It almost feels like a dream, or being inside of a story. You hear the voices of those who warned of the vikings and described all the horror they left in their wake.
Your eyes eventually settle on the fire a distance away as a meal is being roasted. To the left you see the brothers talking, the ones who took you. The shorter one has his back to you as the taller one is in your full sights.
The men talk closely among themselves, from what you can gather, they seem to be held highly or the leaders of this group. After watching for a while, the short one glances back over his shoulder then shoves the other in a playful manner.
You wish you could hear what they are saying. The tall one waves is hand in a dismissive gesture and steals once more glance of you before walking off. You lose sight of him and sigh, feeling a sense of disappointment.
Some time later, you feel yourself drift off to sleep again until footsteps come near. You sit up and steady your eyes, adjusting to the night sky. As he enters the tent another man speaks to him in passing, you hear his name, Halfdan.
Halfdan sits in front of you and shoves a small bowl toward you. His expression is hard to read, it's like he's studying you, detail by detail.
You break eye contact and look at the bowl, then back at him. “I can't eat with my hands bound.”
He grins and rests one of his elbows on his knee. “Why aren't you fighting?” He asks.
You glance at the bowl once more, realizing just how hungry and thirsty you are. When you don't answer, he continues to speak,
“You were running away.”
“How observant you are.” You reply. He only chuckles as he stands once more. Halfdan moves behind you, tightening the ropes around your waist and torso.
As his hands move over the robe and brush against your body over the dress, you can't ignore the sensation it sends through your body. He’s so close you can see every tiny detail of his face tattoos, you can see the color and texture difference of his beard and the smell of him; there was something about his pheromones that evoked a deep hunger inside of you. You've never felt yourself react so intensely to a man before.
Halfdan stops behind you and moves his hand over your wrist, but doesn’t undo the knots. You glance back over your shoulder, your faces close enough to kiss.
Like a patient predator, he doesn't move, he doesn't flinch. He just watches your reaction. A small gasp leaves your lips, and you hate yourself for it.
Pleased, he keeps his eyes locked on yours. Finally, you feel him working on the wrist knots.
Trying to repress the heat rising in your body, you swallow and force yourself to speak.
“What I left was the worst. I was dying back there. That's why.”
A small smile flashes on his lips, it's gone as soon as it appears. You feel the pressure on your wrists loosen.
Halfdan stays unnecessarily close, taking his sweet time undoing the ropes. By the time they finally fall away from your wrist, hunger isn't the first thing on your mind anymore, at least not that kind. And though this stranger doesn't stay much, from the way he looks at you - it feels like he knows it. His slow pace feels like he’s playing with his food.
You stretch your wrist slowly before bringing your arms forward. Loud laughter and cheers outside briefly steal your attention. A group of three men passing by peak inside, but continue on their way once they see who's inside.
As you pull the bowl toward you, Halfdan stands and leaves the tent without a word.
...
You eat your small meal alone, with the occasional visitor poking their head inside. Even the ones who want to come closer, only look then stay away. You can't help but wonder if the mysterious viking had claimed you for himself, not that you would mind.
Once the meal is done, Halfdan returns with a horn of water. You take it into your hands, ignoring the pain in your wrists as you savor a drink. When you pull it away from your lips, you look up at him.
“They warned me about this.” You say.
He kneels down to your level, holding eye contact, “About what?”
“You.” You finish the water and set the horn on your lap, “your kind. They always warned us if we wandered off, we’d be taken by vikings. They said danger lurks in the woods.”
His movment is so slight, you almost miss it. Halfdan leans closer into your space with a half grin, “you should have listened.”
You scoff and look away, focusing on nothing. “Well, I'd rather take my chances than live there another day.”
Halfdans gaze drifts, you wish you could see inside his head, see what he's thinking. After a moment he reaches into your lap and retrieves the horn.
Not saying anything more, he heads back outside. Stopping in his tracks, Halfdan looks back at you. “I wonder kitten, did we find you or did you find us?”
Those brown eyes move over you nice and slow, leaving you breathless.
Before you can form words to reply, Halfdan exits the tent. Leaving you alone with the weight of his question and the fire raging in your body.
More Halfdan
Part of my prompt series | Completed requests
Vikings: @naaladareia @oldstuffnewstuff @alicedopey @charming-merlin @laketaj24 @tephi101@pomegranates-and-blood @fandomfic-galore @sagitariusrising @gearhead66 @punkrocknpearls
Halfdan The Black @naaladareia @charming-merlin @gearhead66
But I have a different attitude towards it. I like selfcest not as a desire to ship the same character, but more as an expression of love for oneself 😌✨
This particular art depicts Halfdan in his soul state after his death in The Chasm quest and in his revival state, i.e. his return to his physical state :')
The revived Halfdan is in a lot of pain from the curse of Immortality. He literally woke up with amnesia and doesn't remember himself. He doesn't understand where he is or what's happening to him 💔
But at the same time, there was a piece of light in his soul after his time in "heaven" 🤍
With cat-like reflexes, you reach back to retrieve your guns. Both men seem to have a bit of suprise in their eyes, maybe they didn’t expect you to carry such heavy gun power.
Controlling the slight shaking in your hands, you stay focused, eagle-eyed as you keep both men fixed in your sights. The anger pumping through your viens acts like fuel, feeding your survival instinct.
You lift your chin before speaking, keeping your tone steady, “I already killed one person today. I have no problem adding two more bodies to that list.”
The man with face tattoos grins wildly, like some kind of crazed jokester. His brown eyes land on your face before shifting to his partner. “I like her.”
His partner takes you in with greedy eyes, they move over you slow and heavy. When he speaks, his accent surprises you.
“A vision you are! That blast back there, was you sweetheart?” He takes a small step closer, you stand firm.
When you raise the guns higher, to level with that space between their eyes, he exhales dramatically. “Halfdan, it seems we have ourselves a little killer.” His head jerks a little at the end of the sentence.
The adrenaline dulls the ache in your arm, but not enough for you to ignore it. You bite back the pain and lower the guns to chest level,
“If I shoot you now, it will go right through your suits. You’ll be dead before the pollen takes effect.”
The one with tattoos chuckles, an amused look in his eyes. Tyring to control your desire to shoot them now, you take a breath and continue speaking.
“Look, I don’t care who you are, just stay the hell away from me! I stay on my side of the moon, you yours. If I see you again, I will kill you, both of you!”
The chatty one's brown eyes light up and he raises his hands in defense.
“Don’t fret little bird, my partner and I have merely been stuck on this moon for far too long. In truth, thought it may be a pipe dream, I hope you can assist us with our -”
“ I don’t care.” You cut him off and nod your head to the west. When neither man moves, you lower one of the guns and fire a warning shot between them, they jump back. “I very clearly said I don’t care!”
The tattooed one makes a lunge for you, his partner grabs his arm and pulls him back.
“I apologize for my partner, he’s more beast than man. Yet, arent we all?” He flashes a smile at you. The grin only fades as you narrow your eyes at him. “ Okay, okay. We’ll make our way west. A just agreement for all parties involved, right partner?” He looks at his partner who only stares back at you.
“You first.” The words spill through gritted teeth as you point west. Your eyes fall on the blonde, then shift to the chatty one.
Unsurprisingly, instead of walking, he continues to talk.
“If you insist. However, something tells me we will meet again.”
Your nostrils flare as you grip the guns tighter. “Just, go.”
The quiet ones eyes burn into you, stirring an unwelcome sensation in your body. You didn’t have time for this shit, or whoever the hell these guys were. You were losing time.
The loquacious one turns West, walking backwards as his partner follows him.
“See you soon little bird.”
You narrow your eyes as you watch them walk away, keeping your aim on their backs. Due to the helmets, you can’t prove they're talking about you, but you get that feeling in your bones.
Part of you wonders if you made a good decision, or a bad one by letting them go. You had no idea who these men were, you could have just signed your own death certificate by letting them walk.
Once they are out of view, you holster your guns. You made your decsion and had to trust it. As long as they minded their business, and kept their distance, you could do your job and get the hell out of here.
Today was already a shit day, you just wanted one damn thing to go right. The moment you landed on this moon there was a sour taste in your mouth, one that you hoped didn’t foretell a bad time to come.
You already had blood on your hands. The last thing you needed was two wild harvesters on your tail. With a sigh, you glance down at your watch before heading South. It was later than you wanted, you had two choices; stay on course into the night or make a camp and start in the morning.
I honestly have no idea who to tag for this mashup. SO wanna be added? Ask below. Just writing what I want, and whoever wants to join this weird ride is more than welcome :)
This fic: @charming-merlin @engineeredfiction @naaladareia @ladylothorien
❗️Warnings: The moodboard is based on a professional murdered Halfdan, so you know, adult themes 18 +.
Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I hope you have a day as wonderful as you are. I’ve chosen your Professional Murderer Halfdan moodboard.
Credits: Moodboard above by @flowers-in-your-hayr
❗️Warnings: The moodboard is based on a professional murdered Halfdan, so you know, adult themes 18 +.
🎹 Music from the playlist is featured by chapter
Halfdan the Black was famous.
If Halfdan was sent for you, you were done. He killed swiftly. He never left a trace of himself behind. No fingerprints, no DNA, nothing; his work was legendary.
Halfdan wasn’t the only prominent member of the 13 Spades. The elite group consisted of thirteen hand picked killers; professionals, the best in the world.
All members were notable, there was no denying that. Each spoke at least five languages and could blend into any situation.
The 13 Spades didn’t mind Halfdans' chaotic calling card; in fact, he was highly sought after by those wanting to make a statement. Halfdan did, on occasion, kill more quietly. He was capable of both; he just preferred chaos.
Nikki Heart, known as the Queen of Spades, made quite the reputation for herself. Nikki was one of the first women initiated into the 13, and quickly took her place as the Queen.
Halfdan and Nikki grew more and more curious about each other as time went on. Often wondering, if their paths crossed, who would come out on top? Who would reign supreme? Members were elusive, operating on solo missions only. Despite this, most met at private gatherings. The very same gatherings both Nikki and Halfdan avoided.
Nikki’s curiosity got the best of her. That's how she ended up in his target's hotel room; standing over the body as she waited for Halfdan to walk through the door. Halfdan liked a show, so she was going to give him one.
Nikki didn’t have to wait long, the door eased open as he slid into the room with the ease of a black cat. He looked even better in person, all the extensive research she had done, now the real thing stood before her. Seemingly unbothered by the scene before him.
“What,” he spoke softly, “did you do?” His blue eyes burning into her, it was hard to ignore the fine black suit he wore, the long tailored coat, the way his hair was perfectly slicked back, the expensive leather of his gloves. Halfdan caught her eyes roaming, but she didn’t care.
“It’s called Murder, baby.” A sly smile on her lips as she stepped over the body, moving toward him. Her deep brown eyes on his.
“This was my hit.”
“I know,” pouting her lips, yet nothing resembling remorse in her eyes, “I killed mine already. When I realized we were both here, it didn’t take long to figure out who you were after. Besides,” running her gloved hand over his slim tie, “ I thought, it’s about time we meet anyway. Don’t you agree? The Queen meeting the famous Halfdan the black.” Her lips curving into a mischievous grin.
Halfdan was still, his gaze steady, “You do know what this means, yes? You owe me. I think you’re smart enough to know, I’m not the kind of guy you want to owe.”
“Is that a threat? Or a promise?”
“Careful,” he warns
“Ohh,” biting her lower lip, “ I like suspense.” Nikki releases the tie and steps back, catching his eyes fall to her legs before returning to eye level. A moan of approval slipping past his lips.
“Poison?” He asked, shifting his attention to the body.
Nikki moved behind him, setting her chin on his shoulder, he turned his head to face at her, their lips almost touching, “My favorite thing after knives,” Nikki purrs, “Don’t worry, he’s still warm. Plenty of blood to feed your...thirst.”
The smile on his lips nearly made her heart jump out of her chest, he inched closer, “Is that right?”
Nikki doesn't reply, instead, lifting her chin from his shoulder to make her exit. She barely gets an inch away when he grabs her arm, his strong grip felt through the peacoat. Halfdan closes in, whispering into her ear, “the only reason you’re walking away is that I’m letting you.”
“Is it? Or do you have that backwards?” Nikki pulls free of his grip, blowing him a kiss before slipping out of the room.
I just got hit with a modern day AU for Halfdan the Black, so called because he has a black belt in Karate which he teaches to underprivileged/difficult kids as a way for them to vent their anger/have a hobby whilst he’s also a member of a local MC club and co-owns a fisherie farm with Harald.
- Campfires and smores - The first time you ever go camping you get bit by every bug in the forest. Halfdan smothers you in cream and makes fun of you but is secretly proud of how well you handle being covered in red, itchy bites - Teaches you to fish - how to gut a fish as well - Scouring ebay for an affordable VW van to go on further adventures - Laying in the van watching sunrises and sunsets - Paddling in rivers and lakes - More bug bites - Ghost stories. Not at all related to the fact that you can’t sleep that night - Canoeing - Getting caught in the rain - Sex in the forest - More bug bites - Takes you back to the first spot you went camping and proposes to you - No phones, no WiFi, no stress - Bird watching - More bug bites - Sex in the forest I used to write and publish all the time so I’m very rusty. This is very meh. Just had to write to something for the wonderful @dangerousvikings mood board she did at my request
