#harald halfdansson

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Common Knowledge 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, bullying, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Harald Halfdansson, tall & plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You unfurl the strip of legal pad, marked with Professor Halfdansson's messy and pointed writing. The usual scribble that has you squinting at your returned papers. He must be the only instructor in the college that still handmarks his assignment.

Like much of his style, his slanted cursive is chaotic. Often, his lectures or spiraling tangents about his trips to Norway or some mythos unrelated to the topic at hand. He is a well of knowledge, but one which is often overflowing and bottomless.

The subject is far from your first choice. You prefer history with a human subject. Your intrigue is those events which truly occurred, people who once walked the same earth as yourself. Mythos and belief is a human creation but it hardly captures your imagination.

Along your search for title jotted onto the scrap, you find several other books to sate your personal preferences. A book on the Beothuk and their demise and another illustrated index of Renaissance art. Finally, you find the rear corner of the store, the mythology shelves nestled behind Spirituality and New Age.

You hover your finger before the rows and lean in, squinting through your lenses as you search out the rather Nordic-sounding name. You sense a shadow at the end of the aisle but do not look over. You'll just be on your way once you-- there it is.

You pinch the spine of the deep blue tome and slide it out. The cover is stamped with gold runes and lettering, a viking helm the central image. You double-check that it matches the professor's scrawl, however you can never be sure as his Fs look like Ss.

You set it flat on your armful of book, balancing the weight with the rest as you crumple the scrap and tuck it into your pocket. It's a bit more than you want to spend but it will be useful in maintaining your average through Halfdansson's course.

The shadow comes closer and you shift out of the way for the approaching customer. You sidle away as they huff, a breath that fans around them. He leans into the shelf and you sense his head shift and his gaze follow your slow retreat.

"Ah, you are a fan of vikings?" He asks, stopping you in your tracks. "You must've watched the show, hm? Cute series but not very accurate, you know?"

You blink, taken aback but his tone and his assumption. It isn't the first time you've met the attitude in your chosen discipline. When it comes to military history or the lives of vaunted men, there is often an intonation towards female scholars. You have been dismissed more than once.

"Never seen it," you lie, "you seem the type though."

You note his snow white hair, a peculiar shade, drawn back into a half pony, and his blindingly pale eyes. He wears a tunic better housed in the closet of a LARPing club and looms with an air of indignation. He puts a thick hand on the shelf and leans, no doubt used to towering over others.

"Funny, that is the very book I came for," he intones.

"Oh, what a coincidence."

HIs jaw ticks and he snorts, "seems you've found quite the lot--"

"I have. A whole trove."

You go to turn away and hear his sole clomp down behind you, "surely you can grab another encyclopedia. I really need that one."

"Uh, no, this is what I need."

He follows you down the aisle as you keep a quick step, uneasy at how he trails you so fervently.

"Maybe you should grab another one."

"I have all the others. I've been waiting months for that to come into stock," he insists.

"Well, you can find a kiosk and order one in--"

"On a three month backorder," he interjects and grabs your arm. "I'll pay you--"

You spin back to face him and hit his chest with your books, "don't touch me."

"Well, just..." he retracts his hand, "hold up. I'm trying to talk to you. To barter--"

"I'm sorry, but I need this book for class," you hug the books and back up, overly aware of the tingliness from where he grabbed you. You don't like being touched. At all. You can feel your heart pumping.

"Does the school not have a library, little girl?"

Your mouth falls open. Little girl? This guy just can't help himself. You haven't been rude, maybe matter-of-fact, but he's been downright mean.

"Not for sale," you push your shoulders up and back away.

You twist on your heel and speed away. You weave between the shelves and discount tables and join the winding queue at the counter. You don't look back and sway in your boots, waiting your turn.

"I could give you several recommendations for an alternate text," the man appears at your side, crowding you inside the black cords that rein in the queuing customers.

You ignore him and turn your head away. You wish he'd just take a hint. If you heard a single please or any sort of respect, you might consider it. He's only been a jackass and judging at first glance, he's too old for that.

"You don't need it–"

You move with the line and he growls, shifting with you.

"Look, girl–"

You snap your head back and give him a glare. He sucks in one cheek and exhales heavily, "miss, I am asking you nicely–"

The associate at the counter calls for next and you take your cue. You quickly cross the space and put your haul onto the wooden ledge. You hear the pushy stranger snarl something under his breath. You refuse to look back as you hand over your membership card.

Men like that are the very reason you despise the general public. Hard to fathom how you can be so intrigued by the human condition when you can hardly bear to be around other people.

#geralt of rivia #geralt #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt x reader #harald halfdansson #harald x reader #dark harald #dark!harald #harald finehair #vikings #the witcher #bookstore au #au #series #drabble

[synindoodles]

Actually enjoyed working on this one so much that I might draw Harald again hehe

[see hq or get copies]

#my art #pen art #vikings #history vikings #harald finehair #harald fairhair #harald halfdansson #king harald #Peter Franzen #art #drawing #fanart #pen artwork #ink #ink sketch

[10blue10]

HTTYD World-building: History

(Disclaimer: I have shamelessly stolen the names of real historical kingdoms and people in medieval Norway and Germany for my fictional history. Every real person I mention here has been dead for centuries so I doubt they’re gonna complain.) 

Geography and Prehistory 

To the east of the Barbaric Archipelago lies the continent of Nordaustheimar (lit: ‘north east realms’). This continent is comprised of three subcontinents that collided with each other, forming two mountain ranges, as shown here: 

For centuries, the land to the west of the Drakefjall Range was inhabited by various Nordic tribes. These in turn fought with and conquered each other, founding an ever shifting mix of petty kingdoms and lineages. The number, borders and even names of these changed over time, but when the Unification Era began in 872, there were about seventeen to eighteen petty kingdoms. 

History of Noregi 

The five or six petty kingdoms in the northern region consisted of Halogaland, named after the Haloga tribe. This kingdom was the most northerly. To the south west was either two kingdoms, Møre on the coast and Raumsdal further up the Fimbulodda river; but these were also sometimes combined into one kingdom, Møre og Raumsdal. To the east of MoR was Throndheim, and to east of Throndheim was Söndmör. In the south was the kingdom of Firdafylke. 

Halogaland was the ancestral home of the Vikings who would later settle Berk, in around the year 714. The original settlers knew that their homeland was named after the Haloga tribe, so they called themselves Halogans, which soon became Holagans and eventually… Hooligans, thanks to rapid linguistic drift. 

In 872 CE the king of Throndheim, Harald I Halfdansson, aka Harald Fairhair, began a campaign to conquer and unite the petty kingdoms surrounding his own. Thirteen years later, in 885 CE, he successfully unified them into a single country, which was named Nordvegir (North-Way), and eventually Noregi. 

Harald was crowned the first king of Noregi, and ruled for 47 years until his death in 932 CE. His eldest son Erik ruled for only two years, from 932 to 934 CE, before succumbing to illness. His second son Haakon ruled for 26 years, from 934 to 960 CE. Then the line of succession switched to Erik’s eldest son, Harald II, who ruled from 961 to 970 CE (9 years), before Haakon’s grandson, Haakon II Sigurdsson, ruled from 970 to 995 CE (25 years). The throne was briefly held by Olaf Tryggvason from 995 to 1000 CE (5 years). Then the sons of Haakon II, Erik II and Sweyn, were co-rulers of Noregi from 1000 to 1015 CE (15 years). Sweyn died in 1016 CE and Erik II continued to rule Noregi until 1024 CE. Erik II and Sweyn were kings of Noregi when Berk trained dragons. 

/

History of Sviannaland 

The six petty kingdoms that comprised what would become Sviannaland (named after the dominant ethnic group, the Svians or Sveans) were as follows: Sogn on the border with Firdafylke, Hedmark and Oppland to the south east, Hordaland to the south, Vestfold and Värmland to the south west. 

This region was actually the last to be unified, by Eric the Victorious in 970 CE, after defeating the king of Noregi, Haakon II, in battle. The petty kingdoms that traced their ancestry back to Sviannish roots united around Eric and crowned him King of Sviannaland in 970 CE. He then ruled for 25 years until 995 CE. 

After that his eldest son Olof ruled for 27 years, from 995 CE to 1022 CE. Olof was the king of Sviannaland in 1010 when Berk first trained dragons. 

/

History of Danemark 

The six petty kingdoms in this region during the Unification Era consisted of three regions north of the Danskrelfr, and three regions south of the Danskrelfr. In the north east was Geirstad, in the north was Vingulmark, and in the northwest was Rogaland. In the south east was Hadeland, in the south was Agdir, and in the south west was Westmar. 

They were united in 936 CE by Gorm the Old, who named the country after its dominant tribe, the Danes, and the fact that the petty kingdoms lay on either side, or border, of the Danskrelfr, or Danish River. Gorm’s claim to the throne was that he is the great grandson of the legendary warrior Ragnar Lothbrok. 

He ruled from 936 to 964 CE (28 years), whereupon he was succeeded by his son Harald ‘Bluetooth’ Gormsson, who ruled from 964 to 986 CE (22 years). The throne was then held by Sweyn ‘Forkbeard’ Haraldsson, from 986 to 1014 CE, making him the king of Danemark in 1010 when Berk trained dragons. 

/

History of Sahsisk 

To the east of the Drakefjall Range lay the other half of the continent, with the countries of Sahsisk and Sapmi. The lands of Sahsisk consist of the territories of several tribal confederations, which are the Alemanni, Bavarians, Thuringians, Frisii and Sahsisk tribes. In the 3rd and 4th centuries, the Sahsisk confederation fought and conquered the others, giving their name to the ‘unified’ country that resulted. Despite this, the other tribes still persisted. 

In 772 CE the Frankish Emperor Charles began to invade and conquer Sahsisk. The war ended thirty years later in 804 CE when Sahsisk was brought into the Frankish Empire. Records suggest that the motivation of Charles’ conquest of Sahsisk was to punish them for their annual marauding expeditions to Frankia. 

Sahsisk (as in the country) became a duchy of the Frankish Empire, but for 76 years it was ruled in absentia by the Emperor, via appointed Frankish dukes. The first native Sahsisk duke, Otto the Illustrious, was appointed in 880 CE. He began the Ottonian Dynasty, which lasted up until 1024 CE when Henry II died without an heir. Henry was Duke of Sahsisk for 29 years, from 995 to 1024 CE. 

/ 

History of Sapmi 

The original native inhabitants of the western half of the continent, the Sami tribes were pushed to the northeastern corner of the continent by the arrival of the various Germanic tribes that later formed Sahsisk. There they continued their traditional nomadic lifestyle. They could trace their lineages back to 11 different nomadic tribes, who in turn were separated into various clans. 

The eleven tribes include the Akkala, Bainouk-Samik, Busami, Inari, Kemi, Kildin, Lule, Pite, Skolt, Ter and Ume (*all named after IRL Sami languages). They formed a loose confederation, with the different tribes migrating through each others’ lands and frequently intermarrying. This both helped to avoid inbreeding and fostered a shared community despite their nomadic lifestyle.  

(Eret’s clan, the Owl Claw clan, belongs to the Akkala tribe.) 

More information can be found in this post: https://www.tumblr.com/10blue10/733694485598502912/according-to-dean-deblois-httyd-is-set-in-our?source=share

Recap Timeline: 

714 CE - the Hooligan Tribe of Berk is founded after leaving Halogaland. 

772 CE - Frankish emperor Charles begins his conquest of Sahsisk.

804 CE - Sahsisk becomes a Duchy of the Frankish Empire. 

872 CE - Harald Fairhair begins his unification of Nordvegir, aka Noregi. 

880 CE - Otto the Ilustrious is appointed Duke of Sahsisk. 

885 CE - Noregi is unified under King Harald Fairhair.

932 CE - Harald dies and his son Erik becomes King of Noregi. 

934 CE - Erik dies and his brother Haakon becomes King of Noregi. 

936 CE - Gorm the Old unites the Danish tribes into the country of Danemark. 

961 CE - Erik’s son Harald II becomes King of Noregi. 

964 CE - Harald Bluetooth becomes King of Danemark. 

970 CE - Haakon’s grandson, Haakon II Sigurdsson, becomes King of Noregi. Eric the Victorious unites the kingdom of Sviannaland. 

986 CE - Sweyn Forkbeard becomes King of Danemark. 

995 CE - Henry II is made Duke of Sahsisk. Olaf Tryggvasson becomes King of Noregi and Olof I becomes King of Sviannaland. Hiccup Haddock III is born. 

1000 CE - Erik II and Sweyn Haakonsson become Kings of Noregi. 

1010 CE - Hiccup trains Toothless and ends the Hooligan-Dragon War. 

#httyd headcanon #HTTYD worldbuilding

[ekamy]

Started reading this tonight and my Norse Saga-loving heart is so pleased!! Hoping that the entire trilogy is good!

#the half drowned king #linnea hartsuyker #i just met Harald Halfdansson and went OOOHHH #get ready for some solid TYRANNY 😂

[animeseinfeld]

everyone shut up about your hamiltons and your hetalias.... we stan harald halfdansson, first king of norway now

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

From Away 1

Warnings: this series will include dark elements which may include noncon or dubcon and other untagged triggers. Mind the warnings.

Summary: you apply for a job with a rather eccentric boss.

Character: Harald Halfdansson

Big thanks to those who read! Feedback always helps inspire and you know I’m always happy to chat about possibilities! Please reblog and comment ❤️

Courtesy tag: @alicedopey

For a country built forged in centuries, everything feels so sparkly and new to you. A new home, a new world, at least for a while. It is all so splendid and wonderful. And expensive.

So it is that you head off with a fold in hand and your purse bouncing against your hip. You have a job interview. A very interesting one though the commute promises more than enough time to prepare. Rather, to overthink.

You can’t complain. It sounds like an interesting opportunity. A dream job you couldn’t hope for back home. There weren’t any historical sites that popular to require excessive staff.

You stand at the stop just outside your building. You need to catch a connection at the downtown center and another in an area you’ve never been before. After that, there’s a bit of a walk but you could use a reason to exercise.

The bus pulls up and you smile at the driver as you scan your pass. You find a seat though it isn’t hard. Most are empty this early in the morning. You hug your bag in your lap and watch the streets pass by as the driver chugs along, stopping and starting until your reach the core of the old city.

You nearly miss your transfer and sit breathless on the second bus, measuring your heartbeat until it’s calm again. The close you get, the worse your nerves are. The last interview you had was for this very opportunity. Just to go on exchange, you had to sit in front of a panel and answer questions about why and how and so many things. You can do it, right?

The third bus takes you into the hills, lush green against the grey blue sky, some rocky peaks in the distance. The landscape here is rich and varying. Back home, you can find a similar spectrum of backdrops but the distance in between is vast.

Last stop on the route before it circles around and you get off with a thanks to the driver. You step onto the gravel apron of the back road and check your phone. You don’t have a signal up here but you have the directions saved. Just in case. You follow the steps up towards your destination. It’s not easy to miss as the old fortress stands sentinel at the top of the jutting incline.

Kastali Castle. A bit redundant upon translation; ‘Castle Castle’. In your research, you discovered that the fort was built on a millenial foundation of an old viking village, since updated over the centuries by warlords and kings, and burnt many times over by invaders. You shuffle through the history in your head, trying to sort the timeline as you approach the low stone barrier along the lower tier of the property.

The gate is open. On the other side, sheep graze lazily across the grass. You’ve learned since your arrival that the creatures have free reign of the countryside. They may eat and wander where they might. You stop to fawn at a younger lamb. The animals can be a bit ornery but they’re cute.

You turn back, looking up at the high foundations and carry on along the steep path. As you get to the large wooden door that would let you through the tall inner walls, you hesitate. You can’t just let yourself in but you don’t know where to go. You check your phone, thinking to call the number in the email but your bars are still empty.

“Invaders, ho!” A holler breaks the earthly hue and you step back to look up at where the voice erupted from. There’s a figure above you, so high you have to crane your neck painfully. You continue to back up until you can see the man above. “Are you lost, fair maiden? Or do you come upon a quest?”

You blink, nearly giggling at his flowery way of speaking. His accent lilts his words peculiarly.

“Um, I have an interview,” you yell back up, the effort making your throat thrum. You’re not much for raising your voice. “With, er,” you look down at your phone. You hadn’t saved the email.

“Harald,” he calls back down, “yes, he is expecting you.”

The man disappears and you stare up into the sky after him. You can hear creaking and cracking then silence. You lower your head and look straight ahead, waiting. The arched door opens with a long whine and the same man appears before you, his cheeks slightly flushed as he gives a crooked grin. His weathered skin is marked with blue black ink along one side of his face. A nordic symbol you can’t decipher.

“It is I, Harald,” he offers his hand, “the keeper of Kastali.”

“Oh, uh,” you shake his hand and give your name in return.

“Lovely name, lovely,” he squeezes before he lets you go, “and a curious accent I here. American? No, no, speak for me again.”

You blink at him dumbly, “um, okay, I don’t know what to say, sir.”

“Irish,” he jabs his finger into the air. “I hear the twang.”

“No, sir,” you laugh, “Canadian.”

“Ah, the great north,” he booms, “yes, I see. Forgive my assumptions.”

“It’s okay,” you grip your bag and shift your weight nervously. “Thank you for the interview, sir, this place is really cool.”

“Interview?” He squints, “is that what I said? No, no, you’re hired.”

“What?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have time for an interview,” he shakes his head, “I need help. Forthwith.”

“Oh, right, maybe I misread--”

“Let’s forget that, unless...” his brows rise and his forehead lines, “you do not want the job?”

“No, no, I do,” you assure him, “I just wasn’t expecting to start today.”

“Yes, you are not dressed well for chasing away Gustav.”

“Gustav?” You echo.

“You will know him. He is a dark cloud on this place. If you do run into him, well, run in the other direction,” he girds, “well then,” he moves to stand with his back to the door, holding it open, “let’s begin with the tour, the we will worry about all else.”

“Oh, sure, um, right. Cool,” you pass through the door and he eases the door shut behind him. As the old brass latch clanks, you wince.

“Wow,” you look around at the interior walls, “it’s so big. It must be a lot of work. How many people work here?”

He laughs heartily and claps his hand on his chest, “just me. Well, you too, now.”

“Just you?” You gape over at him. It’s only then your notice that his hair is much longer than you thought. It hangs, bounded in golden hoops, down his back, much like an ancient warrior fashion.

“The king of my own castle,” he winks over at you, “let’s not waste any more time. We have much to do.”

#harald halfdansson #dark harald #dark!harald #harald x reader #vikings #au #drabbles #series #from away

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Common Knowledge 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, bullying, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Harald Halfdansson, tall & plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your next study session is a special excursion. Paranoid about your talkative professor and his distractions, you opt instead for the off-campus smoothie shop you passed a dozen times but never went into. You order a simple strawberry banana concoction and claim a table in the corner for your mission.

You take your laptop out and the giant tome with a cluster of tabs poking out from the pages. You've narrowed down your possible topics. You don't know why you're so indecisive. You just feel entirely out of your depth. Ask you about a Hapsburg or even a Roman emperor, and you're good, but gods and goddesses, giants and beasts... You just can't nail it down.

The coming and going of customers is steady but not disturbing. Most enter, order, and promptly leave. The average patron has a gym bag and appears to be on their way to workout.

You peek up now and again but quickly lose yourself in your research. There's something to say about the plight of the feminine figures in Norse mythos. It surely seems a tragic existence. Somehow, you can relate.

You flip to a tab and lean in to read. You reach for your smoothie blindly and take a sip as your eyes flit back to your laptop. A cup lands heavy on your table and a figure falls in the chair across from you. As if they know you, as if they belong there.

It's that man! With the blindingly white eyes and similarly shocking hair. Hair pokes out above the vee of his peculiar tunic and his hair is wave with a sheen of sweat. You give him a confused look and flutter through the pages, ignoring him. You won't ask how he found you, might be a coincidence, but you'd rather he get the clue and leave you alone.

He reaches over and stops your search. He pushes the pages flat and growls, "you wrote in it?"

You squint at him, curling your lip. You shrug. You bought the book. Who cares if you added a few annotations in the margins.

"How could you write in it?" He sneers.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Don't be stupid," he tilts his head, "I know you remember me."

"Mmmm," you drone dully and slide the book from under his hand.

Silence. Still and suffocating. You have nothing to say to him and it seems he approached without a clear plan. You really don't understand what his end goal would be. He can go find the book somewhere else.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" He hisses.

"Excuse me?" You glare at him above your laptop.

"Sure seems like you don't."

"It's a history project. I can figure it out."

"Hmph," he wrinkles his nose, "well, I am a font of knowledge on the subject."

"Really? What are your credentials?"

"I don't need a piece of paper to tell me what I know," he scoffs.

"So you know nothing?"

"Watch it, girl."

"Or what?" You blink, shocked by the interlaced threat.

He laughs darkly and crosses his arms, "you think you're smart."

You shake your head, "I'm studying, so... that's the goal."

He shifts and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. He watches you as you ignore him for the blinking cursor on the screen.

"When a man talks to you, are you usually so rude?" He asks.

You nearly recoil. You give a scoff of your own. What year is this?

"I don't know you," your eyes dart up to meet his, "and I don't want to know you. Why would you even--"

"I'm not ugly," he says, a jarring statement. You wouldn't argue, he isn't hideous; on the outside. "And I offered to help. So..."

"Yeah, but you're not nice either."

You shut the book and snap closed your laptop. If he won't go, you will. You stand and he does too. He's big. You might be tall but he's a brick wall.

"Where are you going?" He asks, almost stupidly. That stern, empty cadence of him is almost robotic.

"Away from you."

"Why?"

You furrow your brows. Really? Is it not obvious?

"I'm talking to you. Asking you questions about yourself. It's small talk."

You let out a long 'um', not able to come up with anything else.

"Geralt," he offers his hand in an overly formal manner.

You can't respond. You don't understand what the hell is going on? You might be a social hermit but this man is entirely inept.

"I don't meet many people interested in mythology, but--"

"I'm not interested, dude."

He sputters, "why?"

"Because... you're a jerk," you shove your things in your bag and zip it up. "Wow, are you really that oblivious?"

You see his eyes scanning as he thinks. It's almost like he's never reflected on his own behaviour. You can't imagine why he is still looking for a friend.

"So... you're not going to tell me your name?" He asks at last.

"Bro, I'm about to scream," you warn as you shoulder your bag, "just get out of my way."

You swipe your smoothie off the table and take a step forward. He doesn't move at first. He stares you down as you steel yourself, glancing at the employees behind the counter.

"What school do you go to?" He asks.

Your head nearly explodes. You have never been so lost in a conversation. You grip the strap of your bag tight and set your jaw.

"Move," you grit out, heart racing.

He pulls his chin back as if surprised. He steps away and waves you out from behind the table. You slowly walk forward, swallowing as you try not to shake.

"I'll figure it out," he mutters.

"What?" You spin back to him.

"I said," he turns to face you, sitting again and taking his cup to sip on the straw. He pops his mouth off, "have a good day."

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #dark geralt #dark!geralt #the witcher #drabble #au #bookstore au #series #common knowledge #harald halfdansson #harald x reader #harald finehair #dark!harald #dark harald #vikings

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Common Knowledge 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, bullying, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Harald Halfdansson, tall & plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You untangle the strap of your knapsack from the folding desk. Somehow you always manage to caught up on something. Always a bit too tall, always a bit too much. You stand and leave your books on the empty seat next to you to unhook your bag.

You stand straight, the shuffle of students dispelling down the center aisle and out the doors. You reach for your books as a shadow approaches you. You look up at Professor Halfdansson as he approaches casually, a thumb in his front pocket.

Before you can grab the Norse Encyclopedia, he has it in his free hand. You stand straight, clasping onto the open mouth of your knapsack. You give him a tight-lipped smile, but it probably looks more like a sneer. You've been told your resting bitch face can be intimidating.

"Ah, you found it," he smiles, cradling it like a precious child against one arm and fluttering the pages. "I thought to offer you my own copy should you not."

"It's fine. No big task," you assure him.

"Humble," he praises, "so have you decided on your thesis?"

You push one shoulder up, "still thinking."

He grins and his blue eyes flick up from the book. He has a way of looking at you that makes you want to disappear. As if he's seeing right through you.

"Sorry, Professor, I have a class coming up--"

"You must be in Turner's class."

You hold out your hand expectantly. He glances at it and slowly hands over the book. You slip it through the zipper of your bag.

"How'd you know?"

"Birds of a feather," he says.

You nod and shoulder your bag. You have nothing to say to that. He watches you and steps back, waving you past him. You sidle around him in the tight aisle.

"Next week," he calls after you, "I think you'll very much enjoy the readings."

"Thank you, professor," you say as you turn down the steps, "I'll be sure to catch up."

You leave without looking back. He is an odd duck but many of your professors have their eccentricities. Professor Turner often can't figure out the projector. Funny how those regarded as so smart often have such glaring blindspots.

📖

You sit down among the stacks, ready to tuck into a full day of studying. It isn't ideal and frankly fills you with anxiety. College wasn't made for you, nor were you it. Frankly, your interest in history is better sated in books off the shelf than the ramblings of scholars with an attachment to their overinflated titles.

History is vast, you can never know it all, and there are parts which hold little interest to you. Nordic myths left you indifferent. Never a subject you would choose for yourself but as you delve into it, not entirely dull.

You tap your pen as you wait for your laptop to update. Always at the best times. You flip open your notebook and flick through your notes. Right, focus, you just need a straightforward statement. It's not very difficult.

"Ah, a young aspirant on her journey to knowledge," the booming voice is much too loud in the hush of the library.

You look up as Professor Haraldsson approaches, he worn leather bag under his arm and a travel mug in the shape of a stein in his other hand, "very busy in here, do you mind if I invade your space?"

You give him a look between blank and surprised. You probably look dumb. You shrug and gesture at an empty chair. You suspect it was rhetorical.

He drops his bag unceremoniously and puts his cup down with a clank. You flinch and look back to your laptop, urging it to update faster.

"And so the Norns bring us together once more. I am starting to feel Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld's hands upon us."

You narrow your eyes and give him a look. You know the Norns but not by name. You try to smile and force out a scratchy chuckle.

"I guess…"

"May I?" He points to the large encyclopedia.

"Go ahead," you sigh as the login screen appears and you type.

He opens the cover and searches the table of contents. He finds his place among the many pages and leans in to read. You focus on the screen and your own work. Only a thesis statement, easy, right?

"I do find the illustrations rather immaculate," he comments as he runs his hand over a picture, a man with a sword before a woman of great stature. "Have you found it very useful?"

"Mmhmm," you hum and pull your notebook closer.

He slides the open book towards you and you place your notebook atop it, "and have we chosen a subject?"

You shake your head and look down. The small caption of the photo peeks out around the corner of the notebook. The professor slurps noisily from his cup.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out…"

Your voice trails off as you read the description; 'Frey declaring to the giantess, Gerd, that he will curse her to an eternity in Hel should she reject him.' You frown, many of these stories are dreadfully depressing. The womanly counterparts rarely meet a kind end.

"Well, should you have any questions," he offers as he pulls open the flap of his bag, "I do consider myself a bit of an expert."

"Thanks," you cup your chin as you lean forward, staring at your desktop.

You can feel him watching but refuse to acknowledge it, wondering if maybe you have something on your face. As with most people, you tune him out, pretending you are alone. You're always most comfortable that way.

#harald finehair #harald halfdansson #dark!herald #dark harald #harald finehair x reader #geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt x reader #au #drabble #series #common knowledge #the witcher #vikings

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Common Knowledge 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, bullying, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Harald Halfdansson, tall & plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

With your thesis proposal submitted and marked, the real work lies ahead of you. You’ve claimed your spot in the library, a stack of cue cards with your arguments laid out in columns. It’s the easiest way to sort out your information and narrow down your key arguments. It’s a bit messy but you like the visual diagram to parse out your own thoughts.

You receive a few shaded looks from those who pass by looking for a spot of their own. You don’t mind moving over if they do want to sit but none approach. You bend over the table and switch two cards. You’re standing, circling the table as you’re swept up in getting just the right flow.

You back up and hum. You grab another card, jotting down a new point to add and a sudden slam makes you jump. The thump of the large book on the table sends the cards scattering in a whirlwind. You sputter as you look up at the figure across from you.

You can’t hide your surprise. It’s been a week since the smoothie shop incident and not close to long enough. That man stands on the other side of the table smirking, his white eyes eerily calm but smug. What are the odds he’s a student here?

You shake your head and roll your eyes. You step forward and start gathering up the cards. Your dorm room bed would be just as good as a table. As you reach to swipe up a card, he grabs it first and reads your writing, letting out a scoff.

“Hmm, how cute,” he muses, “you’re trying.”

You ignore him. Whatever, he can keep the cards. You close up your books and slip them into your bag. He plants his hands on the table and leans forward, gaze boring into you.

“Running away again?”

“Do you not know how to take a hint?”

“As much as you,” he counters, “I just wanted to show you that I found a copy of my own.”

You glance at the book in the middle of the table and furrow your brow. Really? This is some weird battle you don’t want to fight. You blow out between your lips and keep tidying up your things. Your laptop is closed and slid away before you can nab it.

You grip the edge and try to pull it from his grasp. He easily dislodges it and tucks it under his thick arm. You hiss and look around, flabbergasted. You turn your frustration around and reach for that coveted book. He stretches his other arm in front of you, blocking you as he looms closer.

“Not so fast,” he holds his large hand up, “would you stop and listen?”

“I’m not interested in listening to you,” you puff out, “give me my computer.”

“Would you let me say what I came to say–”

“Bro, no. How did you even find– you know what? Don’t care. It’s weird. And creepy. Give me my computer and leave me alone. I’ll scream.”

“Relax, you’re being dramatic.”

“Dramatic? You want to see dramatic–”

“Would you stop?” His voice rises, drawing looks from a few other students and some hushes. His throat bobs as he peers around, “I’m trying to apologise, alright? I thought…” his eyes meet yours with almost a sheepish tint, “I’d buy you a coffee and we could talk about mythology.”

Your lashes flutter as you try to keep your eyes from rolling so far back they get stuck. You don’t know that you’ve ever met anyone so oblivious. College has introduced you to several characters but nothing like him.

Your mouth falls open and you shake your head. You step forward and latch onto your laptop. He lets you take it. You’re very aware he could keep it from you easily. For all his flaws, he is clearly in good shape.

“I’m trying not to laugh in your face,” you back up and put the book into your knapsack, “so I’ll be very honest and clear with you. You are the most rude, obnoxious person I’ve ever encountered. Free coffee couldn’t even make me spend a single second with you.”

He grits his teeth as his jaw squares, the cleft deepening as he tilts his head. His frustration is laced in confusion. His eyes search you.

“Oh,” is all he manages to get out.

“Right, so, goodbye.”

You swing your bag over your shoulder and snatch your jacket from the back of the chair. You go to step by him and he moves with you. You are actually about to scream.

“Can’t we start over?” He asks.

How many ways can you say no?

You look left and right and your eyes meet an unexpected pair. Oh, you’re not sure if that’s good. Professor Halfdansson raises his hand to give a small wave as he diverts his strut in your direction. You clamp your lips together and turn back to the man in front of you.

“I don’t think so,” you say bluntly.

“Ah, studying are we?” Halfdansson approaches, coming up perpendicular to you and Geralt.

“Uh,” you look between them as the professor gives a thoughtful look to the other man. “Just leaving.”

“This is a friend?” He wonders.

“No,” you answer as Geralt says “yes.”

You have to hold back a snort. You don’t get this. Any of it. Neither of these men seem to have any sort of self-awareness. At least not a concept of reality.

You bite your tongue and rein in the smart retorts flashing through your mind. You make yourself smile, or at least try to muster one. You take a deep breath.

“I have to go,” you say crisply. “Excuse me.”

Geralt is kept at bay by the presence of your professor, though Halfdansson appears astounded by your abrupt dismissal. You’ll have to apologise in class but most importantly, you need to get this goddamn paper done. Without a man hovering around and distracting you.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt x reader #dark!harald #dark harald #bookstore au #au #series #drabble #common knowledge #the witcher #vikings #harald finehair #harald finehair x reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hey, the anon who asked about Harald Halfdansson! Sorry, didn’t notice the tag, that’s completely on me haha. Love your stories btw!!

No worries. I second guessed and had to check! I was like oh no! And thanks. Here's Harald gir reference

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hi! Sorry if this is a stupid question but what movie/show Harald Halfdansson from? When I checked him up, a Norwegian king came up 😭😭

Vikings. It's tagged 😃