#viking!ghost

Would it be possible to get 141 headcanons of the guys calling the reader beautiful?

Any AU you want, any way you want to write it, dirty, sweet, angsty, modern, ancient, whatever your amazing mind wants. I just want to be beautiful in their eyes even if it's only a few moments.

I love your writing and thank you for even just reading this request!

I know I'm very delayed in getting this to you, but I'm so sorry you had a bad day at work. I hope things turned around for you! For you, I'll happily toss a few headcanons your way <3

Viking!Ghost who brings back the crown of a fallen king from a raid, placing it on your head as a gift, claiming that your beauty could rival that of Freya.

Knight!Price who receives your favor during a joust, loudly proclaiming for all to hear that you are the most beautiful maiden in the kingdom.

Roommate!Gaz who is sick and tired of seeing your deadbeat boyfriend treat you like garbage. Professing his love might ruin the trust between you, but he says it anyway, because you’re beautiful and deserve better.

Bartender!Soap who slides you a drink on the house because a beautiful thing like you shouldn’t be alone. The two of you end up talking until close. Numbers are exchanged, and a date is made.

RULES ─ MASTERLIST ─ REQ BOX

contents: no smut, mentions of blood and slaughter, decapitated head, simon being a cutesy hulking brooding 7foot husband, reader trying to defend herself and be accepted as a 6’4 viking but she’s just not like the rest of simon’s village :(, arranged nonconsensual marriage

viking!simon, who has a scowl on his face every time he sees you. being in an arranged marriage was hard enough, but to have your husband hate you every waking moment was just the cherry on top. you thought you were good enough, coming from the daughter of another powerful village, however according to some of the other villagers you were softer and daintier than they expected.

sure you were less bulky, but you were still on the taller side! just not as tall.

all of your thoughts came to a screaming halt when your village was in the midst of getting raided. the soft pads of your feet as they hit the rough bark and coarse dirt beneath you, were the only other noise except for the howling wails in the background, luckily for you they were slowly fading away.

you knew how to fight, and you wanted to, but simon didn’t let you. as soon as he saw you swinging an axe into an enemies skull, he stripped you of your weapons, and pushed you away while yelling at you to hide in the forest.

so here you were, running in and out of the deeply defaced trees, trying your hardest to not eat shit and stack it, over something stupid like a rock.

a quick look behind you was all it took for you to be tackled to the ground. the distraction left your organs squished, lungs winded, and completely helpless on the floor, writhing under what felt like a ton of bricks.

using the remaining strength you had left, you pushed the stranger off. or tried to. as they sat up, a knife was pulled out of their waistband, presumably to stab you or slice your throat.

you never knew thanks to simon who swooped in at a second to spare, decapitating them.

the head slid off of their neck, while sticky ichor gushed over your bare stomach; the draining, lifeless face took its time rolling onto the ground.

with a helping hand simon brought you onto your feet. blood, sweat and dirt smothered his blonde hairy chest, creating a mixture that was dripping everywhere, including over fresh wounds that adorned his skin.

“you should’ve ran faster.”

The way you and Simon first meet was actually him hunting for the village weekly feast. He was dragging around his dead game, waiting to be roasted and glazed with honey. Simon stopped for a moment as he counted how many arrows he had left. One..two..ten..fifteen. He didn’t care, he was ready to go home anyways. Just a few more pigs and deers and that should enough on his part.

Meanwhile you, a girl from a smaller, lesser know village. As the cleric and medic of your village you were expected to the berries during the fall before all of the plants and berries died. Your village was very strict for that, knowing that they had a long history of men, women’s no children dying to common sickness and yet not having enough to save their unfortunate lives.

Simon started to prepare his bow as he saw a fluffy sheep graze by. And my was this sheep rather fluffy. He placed the bow carefully on the bow, drawing it back. His eyes trained closely on the sheep.

You bent and picked up the precious berries, checking if they had fungus on them. You arose from the ground to feel a slice on your face. The blood trickled down your cheek and under your chin. “Ah! W-who goes there?” You sheepishly screamed. You clutch the tiny dragged tipped with poison. Simon head rose from the log he hid behind. He finally realized he didn’t hit a sheep, but rather a pretty lady dressed in warm sheep coat. “Ma’am I apologize. I mistook you for a sheep.”

Your cheeks puffed up as you placed your hand on your hips. “A sheep! How dare you!” You huffed. You stomp softly to him, chest puffed up. “Yes, I am sorry. I can make it up to you by taking you to the feast held at my village.” He offered.

“What village are you from?” You asked, holding the basket of berries in your hands. “Spec.” He mumbled. You gasped as you realize the village name. You’ve heard of how strong their leader was and how he was able to save his village from nasty beast and greedy pillagers. “Spec! Your leader must extremely strong! I’ve heard story of you all. We’re nothing compared to yours.”