#ivar oc

[nukyster-blog]

#Back at writing Ivar the boneless fanfiction Ivar the boneless: oh by the gods no, not again...

#ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #adrift fanfiction #ivar and piglet #ivar oc #vikings au #vikings edit #vikings fanfiction #Vikings History #alex hogh andersen

[thebadboyfanclub]

She Is A Lady (Ivar x Targaryen Reader)

Ivar has always been such an interesting character to me so imagine how delighted I was when I got my first request for him. Also I would like to announce that I will not be accepting any more requests for daemon Targaryen as of right now cause i have written so many and I have also others that I must write. Enjoy!

Y/n) had always been an adventurous character, ever since she could walk she would wobble away from everyone, curiosity fuelling her little chubby legs, when she got a little older and was able to get on her dragon, Rhaenyras's heart raced as she waited patiently for her daughter to come home.

She was her father's daughter, stubborn, brave, and resilient, “the noble she-dragon” was her title when she would often be referred to in the songs of barbs, she would smirk under her cloak as she would often cover herself to visit the small taverns.

When war called for her (y/n) defended her mother with the fierceness of a dozen warriors, however, the pain of losing her brothers one by one, her dear Daemon who taught her so many things, her grandmother Rhaenys, she could not risk the death of her mother.

“We can still fight dear”

“Mother our troops have fought fiercely for so long, most of our men are dead, we need an alliance”

“What if they kill you?”

“Then I’ll let my brothers know how much you love them and we will be waiting for you, my queen”

Rhaenyra overcomes with emotion fell into her daughters' arms in desperation, her precious little girl was now grown up. (Y/n) hugged her mother back with the same amount of love, she hated the fact that she had to leave her mother's side, but this was their last resort.

Rhaenyra pulled away slightly, her fingers reaching for the few strands of Dark hair that were entangled between her Targaryen silver hair, a small token she had inherited from her late father.

“Promise me you will come back to me”

“I won’t come alone, I’ll come with an army to protect you”

-

(Y/n) had searched for inhabited land beyond the wall for a full day, the sun had been tucked away and replaced by the moon when she noticed a land lit by torches, it would unwise to make a haste landing without a warning first, for all she knew this land could be home for cannibals or demon worshippers.

(Y/n) commanded her dragon to fly a bit lower, circling the city to make her presence known, not only did the people notice her, as they had gathered around for supper to celebrate their victory, they rose from their seats to follow the beast that appeared to make landing a bit further down.

“I am unharmed, well… except the dragon”

“Who are you?”

“Princess (y/n) Targaryen, I come from kings landing”

The men came to a standstill with the princess, both parties waiting for a sudden move so they can “defend” their own, you could only hear the sound of the fire from their torches and their breaths created a mist from the cold.

“I understand this is sudden for you but I have come in peace, I have been traveling on dragon back since dawn, it would be certainly easier for me to explain after I get some type of food if you could be so kind to offer one”

The dim light was not enough to reveal the contraption Ivar was using to stand up on his legs, his eyes piercing through hers in such intensity that (y/n) felt like the man was trying to look into her brain, still she did not waver, she challenged him with her strong look she beheld on those intriguing hues, her flame could be identified from a mile away, this was not a meek princess, she came flying in a beast and stood by it proudly, she was a true warrior sent from the Gods.

“Fine, princess. Leave your sword and dragon here and then you can follow us”

Of course, he knew she was lying, he saw the sword that rested on her hip the minute she got on the ground, intrigued by the astonishing beast she came with he decided to offer her sanctuary.

To his surprise, the princess took out her sword before she came on one knee with it laying flat on her palms.

“This has been given to me by a beloved family member, I do not wish to leave it unattended but I trust you with it, Ser”

“Ivar, Ivar the boneless”

Her face showed exactly how puzzled she was by the nickname the name claimed that he was holding, howbeit she did not have time to question it for long since from the first step Ivar took (y/n) picked up on the metal sound and observed just how stiff his walking as she realized that the man was probably barely able to stand up, his entire weight was supported by a delicates design of metal that went all the way up to his thigh.

Ivar smirked at the sight of the woman offering her sword, she seemed smart enough according to her calculated moves, the sword felt light in his hand as it shined under the moonlight, arrogantly he pointed the tip of the sword directly under her chin, his ego allowing him to consider that he had the upper hand.

(Y/n) gently placed the weapon away from her face and rose to her feet, she had been nothing but gracious she would not allow herself to be disrespected.

“Lead the way, my lord”

She simply suggested, she concealed her facial expression well though the devil was always in the details, Ivar could see her hands forming into fists.

“Welcome to Kattegat princess”

He turned his back on her while she took small steps to stay behind him, she did not want to offend him by walking faster so her pace was slow enough to let him walk.

(Y/n)s eyes traveled around everything, people’s faces, their clothing, their tables, their homes, it seemed like everyone was living a simple life, it reminded her of the roads of kings landing.

Ivar could hear the whispers from his subjects, they were all taken back by Ivars sudden kindness, and they all expected him to kill her on the spot, he had to admit that the idea did go through his head, yet something in him told him to let her join their feast, maybe it was the fearsome dragon, maybe her alluring appearance.

Alas, (y/n) took a seat next to him, and quite swiftly the servants gave her a plate full of food and a goblet with ale, the chicken was warm and the ale did the trick of warming her up as everyone danced around the fire, a faint smile played on her lips while Ivar observed her.

“So what brings you here princess?”

“War I am afraid”

“War?”

“In my homeland, we have one king that rules over the land, my family has been been in that position for over a century, yet it is the very first time that a woman-my mother- is to assume authority, that did not go well with her half brother”

“So you ran?”

“I certainly have not, my brothers were killed, my stepfather, my grandmother… all gone”

Ivar felt sadness rush through his chest at how the princess's chin quivered, her hushed tone trembling as she uttered the last two words, her doe eyes misting in the firelight, Ivar was not known for his empathy, still, he reached for her hand under the table to give it a slight squeeze.

“My mother was killed by my father's first wife, she released an arrow while my mother was walking away”

“How did you respond?”

“Oh I’ve tried to kill her several times”

“It is quite macabre, how the family is always the one that causes the biggest pain”

“I suppose, if you are not running then what brought you here?”

“Desperation, countless battles have taken most of our men, I was hoping to look for allies”

“You described it perfectly, desperation is the only thing that could make someone believe that another army of men would come to die for you”

“My mother is all I have left, wouldn’t you do anything to bring your own back to life?”

“Definitely”

“It might sound cruel but forgive me for saying I do not crave to understand your pain”

She was honest Ivar gave (y/n) that much, they sat there gawking at one another, she stood tall, she did not waver under his eyes as most people did, she showed no signs of fear, she did not care about anything, and let’s not even start of how ambitious she appeared to be.

Ivar took a swig of his ale without looking away from those distinguish violet hues, he recalled how the prophets have whispered to him of a queen of a faraway land.

“Your queen will help you fly amongst the clouds, you’ll know lands beyond the eye”

He had brushed it off as a riddle, but now he started to understand that it was the only time the prophet meant every word, could she- princess (y/n) Targaryen- be his queen?

There, for only the briefest moment and for the first time he felt the warm sensation of his heart thumping at the mere sight of her smile, like Freya had come from the clouds to place her cloak around the two youngsters. For so long Ivar had brushed off the idea of love or marriage, sometimes he would even the joke that the goddess herself has cursed him or turned his back on him, cruelly denying him the blessing of a true loves match.

“I cannot throw my men to a war over lands I know nothing about”

“I figure that we will ride tomorrow”

“Ride?”

“We can strap you up on Daylight and you will be safe as a passenger”

“You mean I go up in that?”

“Hey, she is a lady”

Ivar cackled at her correction regarding her dragon. It had been a while since one was so casual with him, that treated him with kindness without fearing his outbursts, sure her ignorance of not exactly knowing his antics had something to do with it, albeit Ivar thoroughly enjoyed her presence, her wit and pride complimented her.

As (y/n) bit her bottom lip her gaze went over to his legs, she wanted to ask as silence overtook them, but she debated if it was the right decision.

“It’s not an injury, I was never able to walk”

“Brittle bones, the masters in my land had informed me of such condition. Back in the day, they used to kill babes that seemed to hold such an illness”

“Oh that is what happens here as well, my mother forbade it”

“She sounds like a lovely woman”

“She was”

(Y/n) could deeply empathize with the look that took over Ivars handsome face, how his expression clouded for just a moment, how his jaw tensed and his lips stiffened to a thin line, she could tell that Ivar was not looking at anyone particularly, he was reminiscing as moments that they shared passed through his ice blue hues.

Ivar was pulled back to reality by her gentle hand resting on his thing, usually, he would shove away anyone that dared to touch his legs, but surprisingly he just allowed his hand to find hers and rest on top of it, a part of him yearning for the warmth of her touch, her genuine interest and zest.

“I am certain she is very proud of you, I understand you two probably shared a very close bond”

“We did, but let’s not dwell on such events, you must rest I do not want the rider of such a large beast to fall asleep while they hold my life in the reigns of a dragon”

They smiled at one another, a grin that behind it was resting countless words left unsaid. Ivar was a stranger to the goodwill of people, although with her, as his eyes rested upon her features he felt like his anger vanished, like a wave that held her name washed through his experience with cruelty and even his brothers belittling him was now gone.

“This feels strange”

“I agree princess, but I do not want it to go away”

“Me neither”

She whispered, her eyes lowering down to the ground to avoid the foreign sensation that was Ivars presence. Ivar allowed her to retreat, as he looked around it dawned on him that a few of the others had also taken it to become viewers of their encounter, he could not blame them.

With some difficulty he rose from his seat with the goblet of Ale in his hand, demanding the attention of everyone to realign with their leader.

“It is with great honor that I present to you the princess (y/n) Targaryen, the future queen of her land, she has come to us with a request for an alliance, to fight alongside her army for a land we do not know. Tomorrow I will ride with the princess to see for myself that foreign land, as well as to marry her”

“What?”

“To unite our kingdoms, to rule by her side in her homeland and for her to rule by my side in mine, to give us a reason to help her. Raise your glass, to your future queen”

Requests are open!

#ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar au #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x ofc #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x you #ivar x y/n #ivar #ivar x reader #ivar x oc #ivar vikings #ivar fluff #ivar fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd fic #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #hotd season 1

[lavender-romancer]

Winter

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader CW: suicide mentions, conflict

You wanted to be his again, not owned by him but a part of him. But it had been so long since you'd felt close to Ivar that it felt out of reach as he descended into rage filled madness

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

You were drifting apart more and more with every hastily made decision fueled by anger that Ivar made. He would curse you, berate you and you could do anything because you didn't trust that he wouldn't kill you himself. You knew something was deathly wrong when you kept finding yourself high on a hill looking over a rock face, moving closer to the edge every time and not feeling afraid. It was impossible to not feel that you were lost in the dark of Ivar's tyranny. But you still craved his adoration, his love and the affirmation that he only wanted you. All of these things would never happen now, you weren't good enough for him.

You needed him running through your veins like a sickness that couldn't be cured- a toxicity that fuelled your love and in turn, your hatred for him. You didn't want to need anyone, when you were younger your mother had always taught you to never need anyone more than yourself. To stay self-reliant and not let anyone control you but, it was impossible. When you met Ivar he was the son of Ragnar, a grumpy boy with no battle experience and a soft spot for you. Now, after 6 years of marriage you couldn't decide if you needed to try harder or just throw yourself on to that cliff face.

"It feels like he's trying to erase me, fade me out of his life and forget I was ever there." You told Helga as you sat descaling some fish with her.

"Ivar is… complicated, I'm sure I had this conversation with you when you started seeing him. He's a different type of person from us. Not as emotional," she tried to smile but could tell that her words weren't necessarily comforting.

"I was so convinced that he loved me then, that he would do anything for me. But he just wants power and money and meaningless sex, I just can't believe he deceived me into this marriage." Helga suddenly gripped your hand.

"This is not your fault. As you said, you were deceived by someone who claimed to love you. The boy has some kind of power. It pulls some people in and I don't know what it is but it captured you," She paused. "I think you should tell him."

"He wouldn't even see me, I can guarantee there's a thrall rooted to his lap right now." You clenched your teeth together and tried to hold in your rage.

"You need to let it out, your rage. Go to the top of a mountain and scream, allow yourself to feel it." Helga suggested and you nodded.

"What I really want is to have him, it's pathetic but I'm so in love with him it's hard to overcome." You placed down the fish and groaned.

"It will pass, and if it doesn't, meet someone else who will be more emotionally attentive. Ivar seems like the kind of man who needs other people's feelings laid out in front of him." Helga smiled and her dark rimmed eyes made contact with you as the two of you carried on with the fish.

Ivar was drunk out of his mind, two naked thralls sitting on his lap as he'd occasionally take their breasts into his mouth. Some days he would forget you were even his wife, you hardly saw each other. He wouldn't say it was an excuse for his behavior but it was definitely a promoting factor of it. You used to smother him, cover him in a blanket of affection and make him feel like no one could hurt him. Ivar didn't remember when that stopped but he also didn't remember when he began sleeping with other women. The crossover between the two was so seamless it made him feel less remorseful, as if your absence made his actions warranted.

When Ivar saw you walk into the Great hall he felt less than he thought he would. In some ways he was happy to see how miserable you looked, hopeful you'd come crawling back to him in pure adoration. Ivar couldn't think of a better way to gain a woman's affection than by making her jealous. Unaware of his ridiculous thought process, Ivar continued looking you up and down through his eyebrows. You could only glare back at him as you headed towards your room, but you annoyingly had to go past Ivar.

"You despise me, wife?" Ivar asked and you stopped in your tracks, sighing deeply.

"Yes." You said simply, even though you loved him you needed him to wake up.

"But… that's not. What?" He said confused, pushing the thralls to the floor, with a resounding yelp from both the women.

"What do you want, Ivar?" You looked at him with such disdain it genuinely surprised him.

"You cannot speak to me like that!" He yelled and you sighed again.

"Then kill me." You sounded defeated, you didn't care anymore. It would be easier for it to all be over so you didn't have to deal with the emotional turmoil of him.

"I'm not going-" he paused. "You are my wife! Why won't you respect me?" He yelled again and you almost winced at the level of noise he was making.

For a few moments all you could hear was the scrape of his crutch and the crackle of the fire, for a moment it felt surprisingly peaceful. You just wanted to exist in that scene, a beautiful fire with furs on the floor in front of it where the local children would sit and be told stories. There was such a serenity to watching children's faces as they listened to a story, they hadn't experienced the hurt or the pain. All they knew was that this was their favourite day because they could sit inside the great hall and feel important. Even Ivar couldn't take that sense of pride away from them.

"Are you going to say anything, wife?" Ivar broke the blissful silence and you couldn't quite believe how aggravating it all was.

"I hate you, I hate what you've done to me." Was all you said and he looked astonished.

"I won't have this bullshit!" He yelled even louder before calling for his guards. "Tie her to a tree in the forest." He swatted you away like you were a pest but, at this point you saw no reason to resist. Ivar would do whatever he wanted with his power and most of the time that would mean fucking you around.

Even the guards were uncomfortable as they threw a rope over a strong tree branch and tied you by your wrists so that your arms always had to be extended. It wasn't the worst punishment you could have got, you were surprised Ivar hadn't got a lust for blood when you disrespected him. He would continue to degrade you and debase you no matter what you did, even though you loved him it didn't matter anymore. Ivar was so consumed by greed or power or hatred for you that he couldn't focus on anything else.

Your heart felt cold and tight. There wasn't any room for any more love because you had given it all away to someone who didn't want it or didn't realise how much he needed it. In one breath you would hope that he would just come and kill you and in the other, you still hoped he would wait for you. That he would allow your coupling to at least attempt to survive. Sometimes when you were around Ivar, you would feel a tiny part of your body decompose. One part of you died because you couldn't hold on to someone who only wanted to break away from you. But all you wanted was to be taken back to when you were younger, you needed him, you wanted him and he would never be what he was again.

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson x oc #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar ragnarsson imagine #ivar ragnarsson angst #vikings ivar #viking imagine #vikings fanfic

[neonjawbone]

also been compiling doodles of these two new idiots... both work at an unethical mad science facility. Ivar is a henchman and Opera is a test subject. OBVIOUSLY I HAVE MORE SCRIBBLES OF ONE THAN THE OTHER but i wanna stop sittin on em so *tosses at you*

twitter//patreon//pillowfort //ko-fi  

#the facility #my characters #ivar vartaugh #opera blatt #esme coil #karl #other's ocs #doodles #casqua bronte

[miss-madness67]

It Is You (Ivar The Boneless)

Ivar the Boneless drabble

Imagine you are the one that catches Ivar's eyes, not Freydis.

The crowd is overly excited by the army’s return to Kattegat, they had finally avenged the death of Ragnar Lothbrok. I had not taken long to recruit the great heathen army, and less to decimate the Saxons. Most of the hassle had been travel discrepancies and what to do after. Now with all that finally over, Vikings have a chance to celebrate victory. It is no surprise, then, when the great hall is completely packed with drunk people in the late hours of the night. The celebration of the great heathen army’s conquest is something to brag about, and Ivar the Boneless is doing precisely that.

You have never seen the Viking prince in person, considering that you are not a shieldmaiden, and could not go to avenge Ragnar. Also, you grew up in Ringerike, not Kattegat, thus you never encountered him during your childhood. You have heard the stories, though, not only the most recent ones about his victory against the Saxons, but also those speaking of his cruelty and quick temper. And so when you came to welcome your brother back from fighting in England, it was not in your plan to cross paths with Ivar the Boneless. However, once you entered the great hall, your destiny was entangled with his.

He is not the only man that stares at you more than he should, but his gaze is so intense that you can not shake it off. It burns through your skin like fire, stealing all of your attention from your brother’s words. When you look up, Ivar is already glancing your way. He does not smile or try to approach you like the rest of the men, he just stares.  His look is heated but not loaded with anger, it is something else. No one has ever gazed at you like that, it has such desire and amazement. It makes you feel like a goddess. So, while your brother is still talking, you leave his side to introduce yourself to the cruel prince. That is the first step that changes your life.

Tags: @cdauni @justsomecreaturewandering

#ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #ivar x you #ivar vikings #ivar imagine #ivar fic #vikings #vikings fic #vikings imagine #ivar lothbrok #ivar fluff #ivar x oc #vikings fluff #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings one shot #ivar ragnarsson x ofc #ivar lothbrok x reader #vikings drabble

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 18

Here it is, friends! The promised update! A massive thank you to everyone who replied to my prior post. You guys are truly the best and y'all give me the desire to finish this story.

I'll confess, this chapter is short (by my standards). I also feel like its not up to my usual quality of writing, so please give me some grace as I step back into the world of writing and remembering how to use words.

Lastly, if I missed anyone who wants to be added to the new tag list, please let me know!

Words: 3900

Warnings: Violence (both graphic and implied), swearing, Ivar still struggles with feelings

Series Masterlist

The day of reckoning had come. 

A red sun rose that morning. The locals glanced nervously at the sky and muttered under their breath at the strange sight. But Ivar knew what it meant. A blessing on this day from the old gods. 

Everything had fallen into place far more easily than he anticipated, a blessing indeed. The manipulation, the lies shared to convince the traitors to meet with him, feigned ignorance to soothe any worry of their deceptive being known. It all dripped from his lips like poisoned honey, until it was too late. Until the door was shut and a gun was pointed at their heads. Then he dropped the façade and allowed his guile to show. Only then were the traitors introduced to the truth of their failed scheme….and become close acquaintances with his knives. 

It was a day for justice.

A day for vengeance. 

And Ivar relished every moment. 

*****

Amidst the dim light leaking through the few windows into the basement, the stench of dry, stale air, piss and blood permeated. 

Two men knelt on the concrete ground before their executioner. Naked, with their clothing scattered beneath them, cut from their bodies with artful precision. Arms outstretched as in the worship, yet thick rope bound them to this position. Not as devout petitioners, but as those in bondage without even a god able to save them. 

For Armageddon had arrived, led by a blue-eyed devil with a malicious smile and blood dripping from his knives. 

Studying the one still conscious, he casually wiped the traitor's blood from his knife with a clean rag, for he refused to miss a single moment of pain or despair that was to come. 

The trial of judgment had not truly begun yet. This was only the first act. 

A vibration from his phone drew his attention away momentarily as he checked the text. A smirk adorned his face as he replaced the phone in his pocket and returned his gaze to the one before him. 

"They are here." Ivar stated, "should I wake your friend? He's been unconscious for some time now."

The traitor remained silent, his eyes staring at the gray floor, even as blood slid down his skin like raindrops. His chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, almost as if in meditation. But Ivar knew better. The man was waiting. Biding his time. Enduring the pain until the others came.

Unfortunately for him, no amount of waiting would save him from what was to come. 

Ivar glanced over to the other man on the left. Before he had even been restrained, the man had pissed himself and was begging for mercy, crying out and spewing secrets and half-truths in the futile hope for forgiveness. At the first pass of knives over his flushed skin, he fainted. 

Fucking pathetic. 

At Ivar's command, buckets of cold water had been tossed on the sniveling coward to awaken him. He would not get away from his prescribed torment. Not that easily. Twice the man fainted while receiving his medicine. And twice Ivar had him painfully revived. This third time, Ivar allowed him longer in his brief respite. But no longer. 

The day of vengeance had arrived for those who betrayed the Lothbroks, and Ivar would see they were conscious for every moment of it. 

"Wake him up." 

At Ivar's command, his white-haired driver picked up the bucket at his feet and tossed it on the unconscious man. 

The man sputtered and gagged, returning to the land of the living and the land of his torment. Immediately he began whimpering, as if that could save him. As if anything could save him now. 

The echo of footfalls on the wooden staircase sounded in the basement. 

Ivar's smile widened as he met the pained but calm eyes of the traitor kneeling before him. "Better start fucking begging for forgiveness."

Ragnar came around the corner, followed by Lagertha and Bjorn. A gasp filled the air once they came into sight. A sound of recognition. A sound of disbelief. 

“Please! I'm sorry! He made me do it!” The coward began sobbing, his whole naked body shuddering at the strength of his cries and voice. “Please! I didn't–”

“Silence!” Ragnar roared, drawing close, eyeing both men. A predator inspecting the prey. His bright eyes glared at both men, focusing most of his anger on the one known to him. “You thought you could betray me?” He crouched before them, studying them, reading them. A devilish grin grew on his lips after a moment. “How'd that go?” 

He chuckled darkly as he stepped to the side, already knowing the outcome but here to watch the show. With a quick glance to the side, he gave permission for another to step forward and to hear the case. 

The coward continued to whimper but wisely made no move to steak. A pity really, Ivar was hoping to cut out his tongue. 

"Kalf?" Lagertha asked, coming closer. The initial look of shock faded away, leaving behind confusion and anger. A deadly combination. 

"Lagertha, there's been a misunder-" Kalf started to say but cried out in pain after Ivar hit him on the side of his head with his wolf's head cane. 

Ivar returned the cane to his side, leaning back in his plastic chair casually. "Tsk tsk. You do not speak unless spoken to." He shifted his gaze to his father's first wife. “All the evidence is on the table over there.” 

Lagertha followed the nod of Ivar's head, looking towards a table pressed against the wall. On it were stacks of papers, all the threads from the web of betrayal, cut and laid out to prove his betrayal. Every string, every conversation, every transaction, every knot in the thread. The damning evidence Ivar had been gathering for months. All there in black and white. 

With a resigned sigh, Lagertha glanced down to Ivar. “I believe you.”

Ivar nodded silently, shifting the cane from his left hand to his right, still encased in the damn cast. He had never liked Lagertha and she had never liked him. They tolerated one another but that was the extent, prefering to avoid one another's company in casual or public settings. Except when it came to business. There was an unspoken respect they harbored for one another in this one regard; and for her to take Ivar's word alone on this matter, furthered his respect for her. 

He did notice that Bjorn walked over and started leafing through the papers. Maybe his eldest brother was finally learning to use his half-wit brain. 

The fierce businesswoman moved to stand in front of her lover, seemingly uncaring of the splatters of blood and shredded clothing under her heeled boots. “Why?”

He opened his mouth, eyes full of hurt and hope, but before any sounds escaped, she cut him off. 

“Do not lie to me, Kalf.” She practically snarled, a she-wolf rising in fury, with no sight of a heartbroken lover. 

He gazed at her, tone beseeching. “I did it for us.”

Her hand moved so fast that even Ivar did not catch it until the loud sound of a smack echoed in the basement, followed by Kalf's grunt as his head jerked to the side. 

“If you did it for us, you would have included me in your schemes.”

Kalf worked his jaw before returning his gaze to his lover. “I planned on it, but–” 

Another smack reverberated in the air. 

“Try again.” Lagertha spat out. 

Ivar could see it. The moment Kalf's pretense swiftly crumbled. His face hardened, eyes switching from a hopeful innocence to angry slits. His body tensed as if preparing to fight back, to finally show some spine and no longer take the abuse. 

“I knew we could run the organization better. Make more money and be unstoppable. But I knew…I fucking knew you'd never leave Ragnar. You'd never leave his side because you'll always be his side bitch. So I did what I had to.” Kalf grinned but there was no humor. Blood darkened his teeth, giving him a monstrous look. “Does that make you feel better, baby? I'd have given you everything but you'll always run back to Ragnar. You never stopped loving him, you just got better at hiding it. What a fucking waste. I would have made you a queen!” 

Lagertha yanked out a pistol from the holster on her thigh and aimed it at Kalf's head. Hand steady. Lips in a thin line. Eyes focused on him. A she-wolf ready for the kill. 

Kalf chuckled darkly. “You won't do it, my love. You don't like getting your hands dirty.”

Ivar waited to see the outcome. Ragnar already commanded that Lagertha was to choose Kalf's fate. A fucking waste in Ivar's opinion but he relented. Hopefully he would be given the other one, an example needed to be made. Although the other man was only the accountant to scrub the books and try to hide the betrayal, not the mastermind that Kalf was, he was still involved. That was enough to earn his death. Preferably at Ivar's hands. 

But Kalf's death would be decided by Lagertha. 

Ragnar and Bjorn watched from the sidelines, witnesses to the impending justice against their organization and family. Holding a paper in each hand, fury coated Bjorn's face, understanding of the undermining that had been allowed to run rampant for too long, especially by one he trusted. With arms crossed and an impassive expression, Ragnar watched on. When Ivar caught his eye, he received a nod but returned his gaze to the show, waiting for his ex wife to make a decision. All the papers and what they represented were already reviewed by Ragnar as Ivar discovered the treachery.  

After a long tense moment, a gun shot rang out. Almost deafening in the small basement. Yet no one flinched. The sound as familiar as birdsong for those still breathing. 

Surprise and pleasure flooded through Ivar as the coward's head lolled loosely, brains blown out and splattered on the wall and floor. Payment for his crime painted for all to see.

Kalf jerked his head to look at his accomplice and then back to his lover, confusion and shock in the lines of his face.  

“You shouldn't have dragged Philippe into your mess.” Lagertha calmly said, replacing her pistol at her thigh. “Ivar, he's all yours. Do with him what you want.” She took a step back. “Good bye, Kalf.” Then with the poise of a queen, she turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs, washing her hands of her former lover and his demise. 

In the next moment, a hand landed on Ivar's shoulder. “Good work.” His father commended. He gave him one more fatherly pat before following Lagertha up the stairs. 

Ivar grimaced as he knew his father was following his first wife to help her blow off some steam. Something that happened but no one spoke of. 

A different set of footsteps came to his other side. As Ivar looked up at his eldest brother, a grimace on his own face at his parents, echoed Ivar's own sentiments. With a shake of his head, Bjorn looked down at Kalf who had gone suspiciously silent and still. 

“I thought she would shoot you…guess she thought that was too fucking easy for you.”

Kalf spat out a bloody mess towards Bjorn's leather shoes, eyes blazing and fresh blood trickled down his chin. 

“Have fun with that one.” Bjorn said. “And try to keep your cast clean. Fuck, you'll never get all that blood out.”

“I'll get a new fucking one. Fucking hell.”

“Fine.” Bjorn crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What are you going to do with him?”

Ivar shrugged, examining the man like a piece of marble waiting to be sculpted. “Cut off each of his own fingers and make him eat them?”

“That's disgusting.” Bjorn shuddered. “Don't take too long. We need you in Spain. We got a call on the way here.”

“What happened?” 

“I'll fill you in after your fun, but it sounds like you'll be there a few days.”

“Okay.”

The eldest Lothbrok son opened his mouth for a moment, then stopped to lick his lips before starting quietly again. “Have you…have you heard from her yet?”

There was only one her that Bjorn could possibly be referring to and it made Ivar's blood boil even as his heart shattered. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Ivar seethed, fingering the head of his cane, wondering how much trouble he would get in if he broke Bjorn's shins by striking him.

As if sensing the impending violence, Bjorn backed away. “Call me when you're done here.”

Ivar grunted, still beyond pissed his brother would bring her up right now. 

“You know…my mom mentioned that Kalf had an almost irrational fear of fire.” 

At Bjorn's lazy comment, Kalf's head lifted to stare at Ivar, face blanched and eyes wide with panic. 

A truly ferocious grin appeared on the youngest Lothbrok's face at the pure terror radiating from the man before him. Even when his flesh had been pierced with Ivar's knives, beaten with Ivar's cane, the man had endured without fear. Oh, but the sweet scent of terror that radiated off him now…

Ivar barely heard Bjorn's retreating footsteps up the stairs. He turned to look at his driver, his long white hair tied back, highlighting his cruel scar on the side of his face. 

“Toss me your lighter.”

Pleas for mercy tainted the air, but not for long.

*********

As he stepped out of the elevator, it took all of his mental capability to keep his feet moving purposefully and his gait steady. His eyes were gritty and dry from lack of sleep, his body threatened to revolt against his restless mind and collapse in desperate need of rest. He refused to acknowledge it, propelling himself forward. After this one last meeting, he would allow himself to give in and seek the rest his body so desperately needed. 

Ignoring those scurrying around, he passed the several offices on the top floor of Ragnarssons Trading. The scowl he wore must have been fearsome for how quickly it made those plebeians scatter out of his way. Wise on their part. He was in no mood for empathy or kindness, traits he was not commonly known for anyway. He just wanted to fucking sleep. The temptation to stab anyone who tried to stop him was exceptionally high. 

“You live!” 

“Fuck off.” Ivar grumbled, more out of habit than true ill intent. Well, if he tried to stop him, there may be some violence. 

Falling into step with him, Hvitserk looked smart in his gray suit, a clear contrast from Ivar's own rumpled jeans with t-shirt and leather jacket. “How was Spain? No, wait, you were just in Morocco. Or was it Turkey again?” 

“India.”

“Hmm…What I heard, you've spent more time in dungeons and airplanes than in a bed. Those bags under your eyes make you look like a zombie. Ah hell, when did you last sleep?”

Ivar grunted, annoyed with his brother's ceaseless chatter and the reminder of his lack of self-care. “Father in his office?”

“I think so. I was about to go for a late lunch. Want me to wait for you?”

“No, I'd probably fall asleep before the food came.”

Hvitserk chuckled but did not dispute the claim. 

The pair arrived at the door for Ragnar's office. With a quick knock on the wood and a following ‘enter’, Hvitserk opened the door for them. 

Ragnar sat at his large desk, an organized chaos to all the things upon it. Scattered papers and files resided in piles, along with a cheap, tourist paper map of Stockholm spread out and a bronzed human skull which Ragnar refused to admit if it was real or not. Ivar had always bet it was real. 

Torstein also occupied the room, standing behind the desk beside Ragnar, pointing at the laptop screen open in front of them. They must have been continuing speaking of logistics for a particular expansion of goods into Stockholm. 

At their entrance, Ragnar kept his gaze on the screen while addressing him. “I thought you were coming in tomorrow?”

“I can just as easily report today.” Ivar ungraciously plopped into one of the leather chairs in front of Ragnar's desk. He winced at the impact and the sharp pain shooting down his legs. With more care, he set his right hand, still in the cast, on the arm rest. 

At Ivar's audible pained inhale, Ragnar aimed his piercing gaze at his youngest son. “You look like shit.”

Ivar snorted. “The devil doesn't sleep and neither do I.”

That made Ragnar smirk and Torstein chuckle. From the other seat beside him, Ivar could feel Hvitserk's eye roll. Everyone knew that Ivar had been running himself ragged, anything to keep himself busy, which usually involved his face glued to a computer or phone screen or blood on his hands. Ever since Kalf's fall from grace and his fiery demise, Ivar had been cauterizing the wound left in the company…and reminding people what happened when they placed themselves on the Lothbrok's bad side. 

“Suit yourself. Tor, finish this and I'll make a phone call–” Ragnar spoke to his friend but Ivar tuned him out. 

He closed his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest as he waited. His father was not wrong. He felt like shit. Then again, he had felt like shit for the past three weeks now, ever since Kari had told him she needed space. So he focused on what he could do for the family business. Anything to distract himself from what his heart yearned for. During this time, he learned it was easier to feel physically shitty and move on. It was much harder to ignore and move on when his heart was fractured and bleeding her name. 

Eyes closed, his mind began to drift lazily like an autumn leaf, thoughts moving at a sluggish pace due to his exhaustion. He had tried to sleep in his car on the way here from the airport but sleep eluded him- still too wound up from the flight, too many cigarettes and too much caffeine. The trifecta of sleep deprivation. He never slept on planes, even on private planes, he could never relax enough. Especially when they flew over open water. 

A buzzing from his pocket jerked him out of his almost meditative state. Without opening his eyes, he dug around in his pocket and pulled his personal phone out. Only a few people had his private number, preferring to direct most of his calls to his work phone, which lay silent in his other pocket. 

“‘eah?” He mumbled amidst a sudden yawn. 

A hesitant but professional male voice spoke. “Mr Lothbrok?” 

“Huh?”

“Is this–ah, is this Ivar Lothbrok?”

His brain awoke on full alert at the implementation that a stranger had his personal number. “Who the fuck are you?” Those sluggish thoughts went into overdrive, trying to recognize the voice or how this fucker got a hold of his number. 

“I'm Nurse Olsen, calling from the General Hospital. A patient we have gave us your name and number as an emergency contact. My apologies for bothering you, we just needed to verify. Do you know a Kari Larsen?”

What racing thoughts died a spectacular death by crashing into a wall of shock and disbelief. 

Someone was calling him about Kari. 

As an emergency contact. 

From a hospital. 

Where she is a patient. 

A PATIENT!

In a strange form of whiplash, his brain went from a screeching halt in shock to overdrive of all the reasons she could possibly be in the hospital, each scenario worse than its predecessor. “Is she hurt?” He wheezed out, as his heart and lungs threatened to be strangled with the sudden fear that exploded within him. 

“Sir, I'm not allowed to discuss patients’ wellbeings over the phone–”

“IS SHE HURT?!” He screamed, the building panic in his chest rising higher and higher, suffocating him. 

His mind easily conjured her laying in a hospital bed, nurses and doctors swarming her like parasites, sticking tubes in her, cleaning up her precious blood, all in an attempt to save her. She laid there unconscious to her precarious position. Or maybe she was screaming for him. That was how they got his number. She needed him as she lay dying. 

He drew a ragged breath but it failed to relieve the painful pressure in his chest. Gods, if she died….he promised. He promised to take care of her. 

A new level of loathing sunk its claws into him, a demon from the darkest pits burrowed into his mind, taunting, tormenting. 

He had promised. 

And he failed. 

Again. 

“Mr Lothbrok, are you able to come to the hospital?” The nurse sighed before speaking again. 

“Yes.” He croaked out. 

“Excellent, what you can do is park–”

But the nurse's explanation was cut off as Ivar ended the call. 

Ivar stumbled to his feet, grabbing the edge of the desk to steady himself. The floor beneath him shifted and rolled like waves. Or maybe it was the demon cackling in his ears, messing with his equilibrium. Spots danced in his vision but he ignored them, pushing past. He had to get to her. He had to see her. Was his heart even beating anymore? His chest burned, each breath a struggle to take. As he tried to slip his phone back into his pocket, he realized his hands were shaking. Or was it his whole body?  

What exhaustion previously had taken root was brutally ripped out and replaced with a buzzing, paralyzing panic. 

“Ivar? What happened?” Hvitserk's voice broke through. His hands grabbed his younger brother's shoulders, saving him from falling in his unstable haste to move. “Ivar?!”

“I–I have to go to the hospital.” Tears welled in his eyes, that terror and panic finally having risen to his mind, strangling his rationality, constricting his thoughts until all he could think of was Kari and he failed. 

“What happened? Oh shit. Is…was that about Kari?” Hvitserk's eyes widened in horror. 

“She's there.” Ivar gasped, weakly pushing his brother aside, hands still shaking. ”She's there right now. I have to go– fuck, I've got to see her.” 

Stumbling, forcing himself faster than his crippled legs would allow, to escape the way his chest was collapsing even as he fought for breath, fought for each step. He had to see her. There was no other option. 

She had to be okay. His kitten. He refused. He fucking refused to believe she was dying, even as his mind continued to create horrific scenes. 

This was not how he wanted to be reunited with her. 

Hvitserk grabbed his arm, steadying his erratic pace. “I'm coming with you.”

Gratitude swelled within Ivar but the panic clogging his throat refused to let the words pass. 

The two rushed into the hallway, as fast as Ivar's crippled legs would allow. Hvitserk already had his phone out, calling Ivar's driver to have his car ready at the front for them. At the pounding footfalls behind them, Ivar glanced over his shoulder to see Ragnar following like an intimidating guardian angel. 

Ragnar snarked. “Hurry your ass up or I'll carry you on my back like when you were a boy.”

“You're too fragile, old man.” Ivar managed to retort. 

“Shut the fuck up, you little asshole, and let's go get your girl.”

As the three of them hurried out of the building, the same thought swirled like a growing storm in his mind. 

Hold on, Kari, I'm coming. Just please hold on. 

Tag List:

@southernbe @tessakate @ivarlover @nothingtolosebutweight @beautifulweaselplaidsalad @noway4u @cdauni @istorkyou @ringpopdust @lotr-got

#mz writes #to call forth love #vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #ivar x oc #ivar the boneless #vikings ivar #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #modern ivar #modern!ivar x oc #ivar the boneless x oc #ivar romance #hvitserk vikings #hvitserk lothbrok #bjorn ragnarsson #ragnar lothbrok #ragnar #lagertha

[commander-winterberry]

funny coincidence, but the hubbies will always find a way to be together. gift exchange @gw2giftexchange for @norn-knot

#gw2 #gw2 art #guild wars 2 #my art #ysaac verdriet #ivar and ysaac #thea's ocs

[crowwritesaway]

Masterlist Series

If you'd like to support my work or enjoy reading my stories. Kofi ---> Tips

Commissions Info  

Instagram: crow._.writes

Status: Writing….will post later.

*MDNI -> ageless blogs will be Blocked.

House of the Dragon 

daemon targaryen x female-reader pt. 1 

Pt. 2 Pt.3  Pt. 4 

Peaky Blinders 

Thomas Shelby Best Friend Series Masterlist

Vikings

Ivar the Boneless Loyal Friend, Raven Masterlist 

Ivar x Reader Series Pt 1  Pt 2 Pt 3

Resident Evil

Albert Wesker x Female Reader Part 1  

Yandere x Reader 

Yandere Best Friend x reader Pt 1  

Yandere Male Idol x Female Reader

Pt 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

Yandere General X Female Reader

Pt. 1

#john shelby x oc #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #ivar the boneless fanfic #ivar the boneless x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #albert wesker x reader #yandere male x reader

[underscorewriting]

Could you do one where the reader is Lagertha younger sister and in a relationship with ivar the boneless

this. this is the one I might be the most excited for to write!

Thank you for your request :)

May the gods forbid.

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Warnings: Language probably?

Words: 2.425

This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was. He wasn't supposed to happen. The gods were playing tricks on her, this couldn't be real. She wanted to hate him, hate how he despised her sister. He was a smartass, an arrogant little boy with anger issues if something didn't go his way.

One son of Ragnar was her greatest fear for her younger sister. Ivar. He was unpredictable and even though the girl was taught how to fight, Lagertha knew that she would not be good enough to protect herself from him. That was the main reason why Lagrtha forbid her sister to leave her side. Lagertha was always very protective of her, even more when the sons of Aslaug and Ragnar started planning to kill her or hurt her the same way she hurt them by killing their mother.

So one night when the girl was upset and searched for a place to hide away, she walked into the woods. Flokis and Helgas place always brought her the most comfort when her and Lagertha fought, those were the times she thought the girl was quietly in her chamber. Sitting down in a small meadow, she leaned back, watching the stars, inhaling the fresh air.

Rustling behind her made her hand quickly shoot to the dagger she kept on her thigh. "Well don't you look cozy." The cold voice of the prince made her flinch as she sat up completely, her body being on alert if he tried anything. "What do you want, Ivar?" The exhaustion from was as clear in her voice and how she said his name as it was on her face. She didn't want to live like this. To live a life that held nothing for her, since she wasn't allowed to do much. Even her nephew Björn was always watching over her when he was here.

Tilting his head Ivar studied her face for a second before crawling over to her and settling down besides her. "I decided I won't kill you." He pursed his lips looking over at her a playful glint in his eyes. "Not yet at least." A small smile pulled at her lips as she averted her face. "Ubbe told us about how Lagertha screamed at you. She was always quiet..." A stern glare from the girl made the boy hold his hands up in defense, a small smirk on his face as he saw her hand moving away from the dagger, finally starting to relax.

Ivar was a simple man, his plan to kill Lagertha was only left uncompleted due to his attraction to her little sister and now having her here in front of him was something he didn't know he longed for. Looking back up at the sky she sighed in frustration. "How is the world out there? You traveled didn't you?" Sitting up straight she turned to him.

The young princes eyebrows raised in surprise as he smiled slightly. "The world is huge, it has so much to see." pouting slightly the girl cursed her sister as she listened to Ivars stories. He told her all about Wessex and the people there, how different their belief are from theirs, which she as well found hilarious. As the night turned colder they took the path back to their home. Not once did they stop talking about what he saw out there and what she would want to see once she'll get out there.

"Gods, I want to see the world, Ivar." Smiling softly she twirled and inhaled the fresh air. Watching her Ivar felt his heart swell at the sight of her carefreeness. "I want to show it to you." His tone was serious and when she looked at him she saw the sincerity in his eyes. "Ivar..." Her voice was a mere whisper, shaking her head she sat down in the dirt near a haystack.

"We can't. Lagertha would never allow this. She wouldn't allow us, Ivar..." She was desperate for him to understand that this would never happen, but he was not having any of it. He would take what he want and if he wanted to have her, then he was going to have her. "Your sister does not control you, nor does anyone else. You should be able to live your life how you want it to be, the gods forbid that you won't live it to the fullest."

Looking around she kissed his cheek quickly. "I'll meet with you in the meadow tomorrow night, don't be late!" She turned around as she quickly ran to her chambers, smiling brightly at him before entering. The young prince couldn't help but grin at her actions, feeling a little giddy himself.

After that night they started sneaking around at night, only sharing small meaningful glances at each other when they passed one another or during a feast. Soon Lagertha grew suspicious, but not because she noticed any of the glances, no, it was because suddenly her sister started training more, stopped questioning her about being able to travel. It was as if she suddenly stopped caring about all that.

Ubbe offered to train with her, Lagertha trusted him so she allowed him to take her sister to the woods during the day as well. Ivar told his brothers about her and how he wanted to see her at any costs as much as he could. In the woods the four of them would train, Ivar didn't trust Sigurd close to her, due to disgusting glances he threw her way when she was merely visiting them over the past years.

She soon found herself growing closer to the brothers and feeling accepted by them. Freedom, was so close she could almost taste it. Walking with Ivar at night was her newly found escape, after he got his greave done for his legs and fixed up his crutches they could even hold hands while walking. Him rubbing her hand soothingly with his thumb, placing ocationally kisses onto her palm , whenever she talked about something that upset her. He enjoyed listening to her almost as much as her gentle kisses he would get to feel whenever his pain was unbearable.

They balanced each other nicely and after a few months the word marriage appeared more and more in their talks about their future. The girl was scared of how her sister would react to her and the youngest Ragnarsson being inseparable and spent every minute they could together.

But she didn't need to tell her, because one day during her and Ubbes training lessons, while she was play fighting with Ivar . Lagertha walked up the path, none of them noticed her sharp eyes watching. Ivar had her pinned down, laughing while she tried to push him of before rolling over and sitting on his stomach, having the prince at her mercy making her grin down at him.

Ubbe and Hvitserk were watching them, drinking ale and laughing at what the other said. Lagertha was disappointed in her, why didn’t she tell her that they were lovers? She continues watching them and filled an old familiar pain in her heart. Ivar was holding her sister now, not strong enough to hurt but strong enough to let her know he had control over the situation but her sister seemed completely fine with it as she leaned into his chest looking up at him with gentle eyes and a loving smile.

Ivars smile matched hers and in this exact moment Lagertha realized that she kept her sister protected from the most beautiful thing out there, a thing she herself shared with Ragnar even after his death. Love. Ivar was similar to Ragnar in many ways, but with her in his arms he resembled his father more than anyone would guess. Of course, she didn’t want her sister to be with someone like Ivar, he was dangerous, but if it is him that makes her as happy as she is right now, then that is all she would ask for.

Returning to her throne back in the great hall Lagertha couldn’t stop thinking about how she should’ve noticed the signs. Ivar was more around than he used to be, it wasn’t his normal behavior. Besides he was being a lot kinder than usual. As Torvi entered the great hall she noticed how lost in thoughts the queen was. „What is the matter?“ She said as she walked next to to sit down by her side. „Did you know about Ivar and my sister?“ Lagertha turned to Torvi catching the younger woman smile apologetic. „Ubbe said I wasn’t supposed to tell you, I apologize.“

As she heard giggles and laughter she could tell the four of them were coming closer, she prepared herself to confront her sister about this. But how was she supposed to? She was spying on her when she found out, not having had one good reason to walk out there in the woods except to check up on her actually being there. Ubbe was the first one to walk into the great hall, he noticed something was up when Torvi didn’t greet him right away. The girl was still outside giggling and whispering. Her whispers could be heard in the whole hall. Quietness settled in as the last three of them walked in, the girl walking a little behind but smiling brightly whenever Ivar would turn around to see if she was still there with him.

„Hello sister!“ The girl greeted and smiles brightly at Lagertha. The queen did not respond, making her feel uneasy as she glanced toward Ubbe, who sighed quietly looking down. Instantly the girl knew what was going on. Panicking she walked closer to her, a nervous laugh escaping her as she looked back to Ivar in reassurance. „It isn’t like you think…“ Lagerthas raised an eyebrow making the girl feel even more uneasy. „Well then how is it? Because it looks like my sister is keeping secrets from me. Keeping secrets because she thinks I don’t want to see her happy or loved.“

The girl gasped softly wondering just how much her sister had seen. „Lagertha, I promise you I do not have any intentions behind my bond with your sister. It’s about her not about you or how you killed my mother.“ Ivar broke the silence looking at Lagertha with pure hatred but his eyes seemed to soften when he looked over at the girl standing close to her. The girl flinched at Ivars harsh words. The woman on the throne couldn’t stop herself from laughing. „I did not even think about that for a second Ivar, because you wouldn’t even be able to.“

„Sister, Ivar would be capable of ruling over Kattegat just as well as you are. His ideas for this village are incredible. If you would just listen to them you’d see how capable he would be to do everything he wanted to.“ With wide eyes the girl just realized what she said, covering her mouth she looked down. „I’m sorry I spoke out of tune.“ Lagertha studied her and saw a lot of how she acted because of Ragnar in her sister, smiling slightly. As her eyes wandered to Ivar, she caught him smirking, his eyes glistening with pride and love as his eyes wandered over her figure.

Getting of her throne Lagertha stopped only in front of her. Her hand went up to cup her cheek, making the girl flinch. The boy tried to crawl over to them making sure the girl stayed unharmed, but Ubbe held him back making the young boy fight against his hold. „He makes you happy, doesn’t he?“ Lagerthas voice was quiet as she smiled down at her sister softly. Nodding her head the girl looked back up at her. „More than anything.“ Her eyes held a sincerity that the woman saw rarely. She was a bit taken aback by her truthfulness. Of course, she was upset about it having to be Ivar. Hvitserk would’ve been easier to accept but sadly that’s not what happened. „How could it be him, he is cruel and no good for you, my sweet sister…“ She could see Ivar lowering his head, knowing that Lagertha was right about him being cruel, not being good enough for the girl.

„He wants to show me the world. He isn’t cruel, he is just easy to upset and in pain, Lagertha…“ Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about how bad Ivars legs had been these past weeks. „The gods are cruel to him sometimes, so I pray. I pray to them to stop it and he starts to feel better. He is not a cruel man, Lagertha. He just isn’t!“ Her hands were trembling as she clenched them into fists. Lagertha could only stare at her in shock. For how long was their relationship kept a secret from her? „How long did you feel like this about him?“ She grew angry for being held in the dark that long. „All of this started a little over six months ago…“ The girls head hung low as she fidgeted with her fingers.

Looking at her hand she noticed a little mark on her ring finger looking over at Ivar she saw the same small mark on the same finger. „You’re thinking about marriage…“ She gasped quietly taking a step back from her sister. „I accept your decision, but I do not support it. Though I will give you my blessing only because I haven’t seen you happy like this in ages. You are my little sister and I love you and I want you to be loved. As much as I don’t like Ivar, I have to say that he truly seems to love you and care for you.“ Smiling widely the girl hugged her sister tightly, throwing her arms around her. „Thank you!“ She repeated those words until she turned to Ivar grinning at him shyly.

Ivar walked over to her cupping her cheek before he kissed her forehead and leaned his against hers. „I told it would work out somehow, my love. May the gods forbid anything would part us until we both are on our way to dine with the gods in Valhalla.“

Lagertha couldn’t fight the smile as she watched the both of them. Even though she disliked Ivar, she was certain he would treat her right. Maybe even better than Ragnar treater her. She could tell in his smile, in his eyes, in every action towards her sister, that he adored her.

#ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar x reader #ivar fluff #ivar imagine #vikings #vikings fanfiction #ivar the king #ivar x you #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar fanfic #vikings ivar #modern ivar #ivar x oc #ivar vikings #ivar smut

[paracosmoon]

king harald finehair would've risked it all for megan thee stallion

#vikings #vikings incorrect quotes #ubbe ragnarsson #ragnar lothbrok #rollo lothbrok #ivar the boneless #modern ivar #ivar x oc #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless x ofc #ivar the boneless x you #hvitserk #vikings valhalla #vikings imagine #vikings ivar #lagertha #bjorn vikings #bjorn ironside #bjorn ragnarsson #sigurd snake in the eye #the last kingdom fandom #the last kingdom #tlk uhtred #uhtred imagine

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Unexpected: Part 3

Summary: Thickheaded idiot Ivar finally realizes he’s in love while going to the market with her to get her new clothes and wise NPC (tm) gives him some advice. Aslaug takes her in for an interrogation à la overbearing mother… More smut ofc, but it’s a bit brief this time!

Beginning Notes: the Brísingamen is a necklace that was given to Freya in Norse mythology. From the etymology of the word, it’s possible that the necklace was meant to be made of amber.

Taglist: @bragisrunes @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @punkrocknpearls @alicedopey @batmandallyboy (hmu to be added!)

Masterlist | Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 | requests are OPEN!

He woke up next to her this morning. Ivar can barely process it. When she moved in her sleep, he’d woken up, and he’d gotten to hold her while she was still sleeping, running a hand through her hair carefully.

She’d smiled at him when she had woken up, kissed him, gotten dressed halfway, and then Ivar had ruined her efforts and they were late to breakfast.

Now that she was his, she didn’t have to serve anyone else. Unlike Margrethe, she doesn’t dare sit down at the table, instead pouring his drink and refilling his mother’s and brother’s cups as well. Ivar glares at Sigurd, who leans towards her just to tease him.

Ivar knows that he is more interested in men than women, and that he’s fucking one ever since Hvitserk and Ubbe are taking up all of Margrethe’s time, but he still clenches his fist in jealousy under the table.

After breakfast, they head out alone. Sigurd leaves first, grabbing his Oud before he disappears to Gods know where, and Hvitserk and Ubbe leave soon after, saying that they’ll spar a bit. Ivar doubts it. Then again, his intentions aren’t the purest either.

She follows him dutifully to the market, carrying an empty basket. Before they can buy anything, Ivar spots Helga, who hands him a small vial. She smiles at her brightly.

“This is for your legs. It’s a new recipe, so tell me if anything is off.” She says, looking at Ivar.

Ivar nods, and she’s quick to take it, putting it in her basket.

“Do you need anything?” Helga asks, turning to her. She shakes her head.

“Bodil’s fever is gone, thank the Gods. It would’ve broken Estrid’s heart if her last daughter died too. That Frankish slave, Lothar, he cut himself quite deep, but the others already shared some of your old supplies.” She replies.

“That’s good. If you need anything, don’t be shy to come to me.” Helga says, walking away. Then, Ivar turns to her.

“How do you know Helga?” he asks.

“She helps us a lot. Whenever she can spare her supplies, she gives them to us. There’s a thrall that used to be in Floki’s service who learned from her. She’s a very kind woman.”

“That is true.” Ivar nods. He didn’t know Helga helped the slaves, but it’s her character to do such a strange thing.

The first stall they stop at is a fabric stall. The merchant looks like he comes from Rus, and his heavy accent confirms Ivar’s expectations.

He offers Ivar a good deal on a ready-made dress and a fur, but when Ivar turns to her, her eyes are wide.

“That is too expensive.” She says decidedly. The merchant immediately tells her he’s unwilling to haggle, but she shrugs, choosing a plain fabric instead. Ivar is sure it’s meant for aprons, but the light blue color suits her, so he hands over his coin.

“You need a pelt for when it gets colder.” He tells her. She looks uncomfortable at the thought, but nods.

“But not from this stall. This is luxury clothing he’s selling.”

Ivar lets her lead him away from the stalls on the main road, and towards a tiny stall that sells pelts as well as a few vegetables that have definitely been grown in the sorry soil of Kattegat.

She seems to know the vendor, who looks surprised at seeing a prince at her stall. Ivar chooses the fur, and she immediately begins haggling with the woman, before they settle on a price, she deems reasonable. Before they leave, Ivar spots a deep green, but still plain dress.

“That one too.” He tells the woman.

“You really don’t have to.” She insists, but the vendor readily holds it out for Ivar to inspect.

“No discussion.” Ivar tells her. “You need more than one proper dress.”

“I can make at least three out of this fabric.” She replies but lets him buy the dress.

They walk back onto the main road together, and she offers to go home. She’s blushing as she looks at the green dress, and Ivar can tell that she can’t believe the amount of money he just spent on her.

“I want to keep looking.” Ivar tells her. The blacksmith lives next to the stalls, and Ivar wants to pick up an axe he commissioned. Then, he wants to go to the stall of a Francian who sells wares from the Mediterranean. His mother loves oranges, so Ivar always goes to see if they have any.

While he’s at the blacksmith, he gives her money to go to the Francian. He follows soon after, only to see that she’s still at the stall.

“I don’t sell to thralls.” The merchant tells her as Ivar comes closer.

“It’s not for me, and I have the money. My master sent me to buy them.” She explains. “And I can take the bad ones off your hands, if you’d like.”

“Stop begging and buy off of someone else.” The merchant hisses.

“Is there a problem?” Ivar asks, stepping next to her. His axe is still in his hand.

“Prince Ivar!” he exclaims. Turning to her, he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me who your master was?”

“I didn’t think it mattered.” She presses out, and Ivar can see the barely concealed anger in the way she clenches her jaw, and her knuckles turn white on the handle of her basket.

The merchant hands over the oranges, and then turns around and gives her another crate.

“The bad ones.” He says. Ivar looks at them and sees a few with marks, some with a little mold on them. He would never eat them, but she smiles brightly and thanks the merchant.

“Why did you ask him for the foul ones?” he asks her as soon as they are out of the rude merchant’s hearing.

“They’re not foul.” She laughs. “Just a bit old. These stalls are luxury stalls, so they usually don’t even sell to random thralls, but once, Bodil found a mandarin after the stall had closed down. She brought it to the thrall quarters and shared it with all of us. We kept the peel because it smelled so good. Since then, we’ve been trying to get more, whether that’s the old ones or something that fell off his cart.”

Ivar thinks he understands. There’s one last stop he wants to make today, but before they make it, she spots a young girl. Ivar follows her gaze. It’s another thrall, who waves to her. The girl can’t be older than seven. Unsure, she glances to him.

“Go.” Ivar tells her, and she almost runs off, taking the young girl into her arms. He sees them chatter and the girl grabs an orange from the crate, holding it up high over her head triumphantly. She reminds Ivar of Hvitserk. Ivar turns to the stall he wants to visit.

“I want to buy a necklace.” He tells the merchant. They know each other well. She’s an old woman, who was already selling her jewelry when Aslaug came to Kattegat. Ivar has been going to her whenever he wants to buy his mother a present.

“For your mother?” she asks, and Ivar shakes his head.

“For the girl?” she guesses, and Ivar stares at the ground.

“Just a simple one. With a stone or so.” He tells her. She turns around, going through one of her displays, until she finds what she’s looking for.

It’s a simple band with an amber pendant she hands him, and Ivar finds it almost painfully on the nose.

“Would you like a ring to go with it?” she asks in an almost teasing voice, and it’s only because Ivar has known her all her life that there are no consequences.

“What would I need that for?” he asks coolly.

“I’ve never seen you with that girl before, but I can tell when men are in love. It’s why I sell so much.”

“Secrets of the trade?” Ivar asks sarcastically.

“Precisely that. Tell her you’re in love. And free her if you haven’t already. I’ve heard nothing bad about that girl, and it’s obvious to me she loves you back.”

Ivar nodded, handing over the money before quickly leaving the stall, necklace clutched in his hand. She enjoyed gossip, entertaining his mother whenever she came to her stall, Ivar knew that. She also enjoyed making money. Was it really true that she liked him?

She’s spinning the girl around as Ivar comes closer, before she hugs her and turns around to find him. She almost bumps into Ivar.

“Oh sorry.” She apologizes. “I’m a bit dizzy. You know, from all the turning.”

Her hairdo is dangerously close to falling apart, and Ivar wants to fix it for her later.

“Who was that?” Ivar asks.

“That’s Bodil. I gave her the oranges so she can share with her family and friends.”

“What about you?”

“I already got fabric and a dress, AND a fur coat. I don’t need more luxuries.” She shrugs.

Shakily, Ivar grabbed the amber pendant. “I still want to give you this.”

She accepts it carefully, as if it’ll crack if she cradles it too harshly. “Thank you, Ivar. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

Then, she hugs him, in the middle of the main road. Ivar freezes, not knowing what to do. Carefully, he lays his head on her shoulder.

They walk into the Great Hall the moment Ubbe and Hvitserk return, and Ivar shoots her a regretful glance as his brothers pull him away.

“I’ll clean your room and change your bedding.” She calls after him, disappearing with her new things.

Aslaug’s POV:

Ivar and his thrall had come back from the market just in time for Aslaug to watch her disappear into his room. She didn’t trust this woman. Perhaps she would use Ivar’s trust to steal something he wouldn’t miss. Perhaps she was as ambitious as Margrethe.

Aslaug was going to find out.

The thrall didn’t notice her at first. She was pulling the linens off of Ivar’s bed, her back turned to the door. Only when she turned around did she see Aslaug.

“My Queen.” She said, bowing her head. “Prince Ivar bought you oranges. I’ve had them brought to the kitchens. Is there anything specific you’d like them with?”

“What are your intentions with my son?”

“I don’t have any intentions.” She replied.

“Why did you sleep with him?” Aslaug continued.

“I thought he was attractive.”

“Despite his legs?”

“I’m not as superficial as some other women.” She said calmly.

“Would you like to be free one day?” Aslaug asked

“Which thrall doesn’t?”

“Do you love him?” Aslaug asked finally. There’s silence from this quick-witted thrall. It lasts too long to be a lie. She doesn’t answer Aslaug at all. The queen grabbed the thrall’s jaw, making her look up at her. Aslaug noticed how young she looked. She couldn’t be much older than Ivar.

She remembered her vision. Aslaug had dreamt that Ivar would marry a thrall one day. She had also dreamt that Ivar would die at sea before he would marry. Her visions did not help her. They only conflicted each other.

“He cannot free you.” Aslaug told her.

“Being his thrall has already made me happier.” She replied.

“He’ll marry someone else. A worthy princess or an earl’s daughter. Not you.”

For a moment, Aslaug sees her façade drop. A second of hurt and jealousy. Then it was over, and Aslaug let go of her jaw.

“Break his heart.” She told the girl, “And you’ll have his family lining up to kill you before he does.”

“I know.” She replied, as if that didn’t scare her. Then, the thrall continued cleaning the bed, as if their conversation had never happened.

Ivar’s POV:

She was talking to Hvitserk. Why the fuck was she talking to Hvitserk?

He creeps closer, trying to make out what she’s saying. Hvitserk’s laughing at something she just told him, and it makes Ivar’s blood boil.

“I can teach them how to make the bread.” Ivar can finally hear her say. What?

Hvitserk sees him, and smiles at Ivar brightly. Absentmindedly, he hands her his cup, and Ivar wants to start a fight with him for disrespecting his woman. Except that she is a thrall, and all she’ll ever be is his property.

“I was just asking her about the bread she made. Now that she isn’t in the kitchen, it’ll be the old bread again.” Hvitserk explains.

“Stay away from her.” Ivar tells him, before going to her.

“Jealous?” Hvitserk teases.

“Shut up.” Ivar almost roars over his shoulder.

“If it’s alright I’ll teach the others in the kitchen how to make the bread sometime next week.” She offers.

“I don’t want you talking to Hvitserk.” Ivar says.

“He’s your brother. I’m bound to see him when I’m living in your home.”

Ivar’s hand shoots up, resting on her neck.

“He’s good with most women. I’m not.” Ivar presses out.

“And I am not most women.” She replies quietly. “I thought we’d already established that.”

Ivar could feel the anger creeping up on him. Suddenly, every man in the room was staring at her. The two shieldmaidens making out in the corner seemed to be waving her over, asking them to join. Sigurd was there, Hvitserk was there, Ubbe was there, even Bjorn was there.

They all look like they were going to take her from him. And the worst part was, Ivar knows they could.

“Go to my room. Now. Take that dress off.” He tells her, before letting go of her neck.

He stays until he can’t bear it anymore before he walks towards their room. Hvitserk throws him a look that used to be reserved for teasing Ubbe, but no one else in the Great Hall notices.

When he gets to their, no, his room, the dress is barely over her shoulders.

“That was fast.” She comments. Wordlessly, Ivar grabs her, pushing her against the door. Her back hits it with a quiet thud, and she lets him tear the dress down her shoulders. The necklace rests between her breasts, a reminder that she’s his.

His fingers are on her, groping greedily because Ivar wants to somehow show her that he loves her, and that he wants her to be his – in a way that she cannot be.

“You’re mine.” Ivar says harshly, “Only mine.”

She nods frantically, and Ivar knows that, in any other situation, she would’ve said something snarky.

“Say it.” He demands. He can feel the desperation inside him growing, he wants her to tell him she feels the same way. He needs her too.

“Yours.” She breathes out, the word ending in a moan when his hand finds her pussy.

She repeats it from her own volition, over and over as Ivar leads her to his bed and sucks dark splotches onto her skin. Her hands trail down his chest, towards his breeches and Ivar lets her do it, because this is something he can trust her with.

Her hand finds his cock and she pumps up and down, until Ivar is groaning into her neck, almost ready to beg her. When he pushes into her, it feels just as good as the first time, but this time, Ivar isn’t tense, only angry.

He wants to be gentle with her, so he kisses her slowly, lets his touch become softer. He still squeezes her neck and grabs her hips, because that’s as gentle as Ivar will ever get. When he’s done, he pulls out, using his fingers to get her to finish too.

They lie side by side in silence, and Ivar can hear the sounds of the feast taking place behind his door. He wonders if they heard them. A part of him wants them to know that he can do it. Another part wants her to be his secret.

Her hand finds his. She holds it as carefully as her necklace of amber, staring up at the ceiling. Ivar looks at her, but she doesn’t notice, and for the first time, he sees her.  He sees a reflection of his anger in her. It’s hidden much better, but it’s there.

“Why are you angry?” he asks her. She hesitates, as if she’s considering lying to him.

“The merchant.” She replies.

“I can have him killed if you want.” Ivar offers. She shakes her head, beginning to smile.

“And what would that do?”

“He wouldn’t be able to disrespect you without a head.”

“It wouldn’t change anything. There’ll always be people treating me like I am worth less than cattle. It’s stupid to be angry at them, but I can’t help it. Even if someone freed me, I’d always be the former thrall.” She explains. Ivar knows that he cannot understand fully what she means, and that makes him angrier than before.

“They wouldn’t disrespect you if you were a queen.” Ivar blurts out. She turns to face him, a hand running through his hair.

“My Ivar.” She says, and his heart skips a beat. “We both know that won’t happen. You love your mother far too much.”

I love you too. Ivar wants to say, because he can hear it between the words she does say, I love you and I’d break my promise to my mother for you. I think.

“You’re the only one in the world who understands my anger.” He says instead. It has to be enough, for now.

#ivar #ivar x reader #vikings #ivar the boneless #history vikings #ivar lothbrok #ivar x you #ivar x oc #ivar x y/n #angry ivar #ivar fanfic #ivar imagine #ivar smut #vikings fanfiction #ivar ragnarsson #hvitserk #ubbe #sigurd #aslaug

[nukyster-blog]

Adrift Chapter 21) Little Pieces

Chapter 21) Little pieces

.-.-.

Utstott appeared slothful, inattentive even. The white raven had been fluttering his feathers in the shadow of darkness while his savior was mauled and mowed down, over and over. Utstott could have used his eye pecking abilities for good, it would have most definitely eased the damage done by the wild boar. Who knew; if he had interfered, Ivar may not have been burdened by more scars- the deep cut running over half his face still bled. 

Yes, Utstott could have made himself useful but he chose not to help. Because,as the bird knew, Ivar already bore many scars and the ones that ran deepest  weren’t those marking his skin. 

Without lifting a claw, Utstott had efficiently healed the worst damage between Piglet and Ivar. 

By now, Utstott knew Piglet’s moods weren’t for the weak hearted; her glare could cut mountains into two. But her greatest quality was her devotion. 

.-.-.

Valeríe ignored the familiar tug inside her stomach as she tried her best to be of use. She wasn’t squeamish of blood, not per se. But the amount she saw was enough to cause her to become ill. 

The sounds the cripple produced, the raw smell of adrenaline, blood and cold sweat; it all hearkened back to a place and time from long ago she vehemently willed to never remember.

And yet, the sound of his moans echoed the memory of her own voice from all those years ago. His face; ghostly pale and writhing, must have been a reincarnation of her own. The slight difference was the deep cut that tore into his lips every time he either blew out his cheeks or clenched his teeth to block the pain. No, not block, to endure the trial of either living or dying. 

There was a difference though; he endured because he had chosen to save another’s life. And she had endured to end one. 

Valeríe fled; one foot in front of the other, determined not to get sick right away. But once the sounds of the cripple no longer rang in her ears she desecrated the trunk of an old oak tree with the content of her stomach. 

The tears that stung her eyes were quickly rubbed away, because no, she could not allow herself to feel that pain again. With both her arms she cradled her empty stomach. She remained at the trunk of the oak until dusk started to settle and chill crept into her bones.

Her feet carried her back to the ox-wagon, but her mind wandered elsewhere and more than ever Valerié wished for a pitcher of wine, or any type of alcohol would do. 

And a good fuck, as long as it included a decent bed and propper pillows. Oh, how she missed the city of Troyes and all its residences and luxuries. 

“Can you make fire?” An order wrapped in a question made her anchor back in the midst of trees, blood and hostility. 

“At a fireplace, of course mone petite,” she sneered at the smaller maiden, “here in this shithole, no, I cannot.”

The other maiden glared at her as if she was an insect she just crushed underneath her bare feet and snorted. 

“I figured.”

“Be you did, Piglet,” Valerié retorted, pleased when the dark maiden’s eyes lit on fire as her name passed her lips, “oh he can be very talkative if you’re not around.” 

This struck more than a nerve and for a moment Valerié sensed an actual strike toward the face. Piglet’s shoulder twitched and hand probably ached. But here, in the midst of forest and wildland, were more than enough hairy, four legged foes. 

Whatever bad blood was between them, it had to wait. At least till dawn. 

Which was going to be a challenge, as Piglet nudged her shoulder into Valerié as she passed her, barking at her to watch him.

“Oh, I can do a whole lot more than that mon petite,” Valerié assured her, venomously. Puffing her cheeks, because the absolute nerve that little bitch had, she flopped down next to the wheelbarrow holding up the cripple in a sitting position. Oh, she’d fuck him out of spite were he not he such a bleeding, squirming mess of a man.

.-.-.

Valerié woke in a state of shock. Two firm thighs pressed against either side of her head, locks of her hair trapped under knees. 

Now, for a lady of the night this wasn’t something she wasn’t used to. The blade of a very sharp knife pressing firmly against the soft spot of her neck was new, though. 

Piglet towered over her, leaning in close,  applying pressure on the handle of the blade.

Valerié froze, sensing the blade would cut her if she tried to swallow the lump that nearly blocked all the air from her throat.

The white raven appeared in view, hopping around her face from side to side, jerking its head back and forth from her to Piglet. 

“I need you,” Piglet whispered, glancing down with a deadpan expression, “I need you, at least until he’s stable enough to travel,” she nudged her head toward the unconscious form of the cripple. 

“You fled today, do that again and Utstott will find you, I promise you he will. And if he does, I’ll wait until you are fast asleep and I will pin you down, like this, and I will watch him peck out your eyes.” 

To give her words more meaning, the white raven cawed and dug his beak deeply into the scalp of Valerié's skull. It punctured her scalp and as she jerked, the blade scratched the soft white skin of her neck. 

Piglet pushed herself up by her knees, allowing Valerié to grasp her neck and head.

“Oh, and it's your turn to watch the fire, I wish you a good night.”

.-.-.

About three hundred pounds of angry boar had run over him; its tusks mauled at his face. The moment unconsciousness changed to consciousness Ivar went rigid with agony. His back arched off the wheelbarrow when the pain hit. It branched across his chest like lightning, caused by the full impact of the boar against his ribcage. With eyes squeezed shut he winched, deeply moaned, and drew sharp breaths through his front teeth. 

She sang to him.

He sensed how she held his hand; with all the care in the world, the way she used to pet the wobbly legged lamb inside the dingy shed of the Castle of de Haar. 

And although the cuts on his face pulled sharply, he could not help his lips to curve into a smile. He felt a sudden flare of joy when he overheard her mumble hamar, and he felt a solemn sense of happiness. It was foreign and yet, familiar. It took him a while, drifting in between consciousness and unconsciousness to determine the feeling. 

It was to matter. It simply wasn’t more than that, to matter to someone else. To be missed, if he wasn’t there. To be important enough to stay.

He grasped her hand tightly as a cramp seized the muscles of his legs. He was dead set on riding it out, but all his senses diminished. He could no longer feel her hand hold his and he blacked out. 

When he woke up again he sensed a less calloused hand holding his. And although it wasn’t hers, Ivar still held onto it, like an anchor through the storm. The pain, it casted away all rational thoughts and after what felt like an eternity, Ivar prayed to any kind of God to redeem him from the nonstop, ongoing agony. 

He must have begged, or pleaded, because soft full lips touched his. But it wasn’t the release he craved for and with all the might he had he pushed her away. His weak attempt to create distance worked, yet the side effect was losing his only anchor to pull through. And so he was left all by himself to suffer through the endless stream of pain. He clutched his chest in agony, a fruitless attempt to cradle himself, banging the back of his scalp into the wooden frame of the ox-wagon’s wheel. 

As time passed, and he suffered alone, he prayed to his Gods to end the suffering. Not for death per se, but for release, for a humble delay in between the tides of pain. 

He overheard her call him, hamar, and then call him Ivar when the pain made him double over. The simple touch of her fingers brushed over his revived his spirit. Weak with gratitude he tried to speak, but it hurt too much. 

She allowed him to clutch her hand like a bear trap, up until he point he must be close to breaking her fingers. She simply sang. 

And that was enough. It was enough to raise his spirit and tide him over while the waves of ache tried their best to drown him. 

He clenched his jaw, as he grounded his body. One breath at the time, he’d endure as he always had done and always would do. And it hit him with the force of the wild boar; he no longer had to do it alone. He had an anchor wrapped in her gentle touch, and for that he’d endure ten times more. He suffered because of her, by his own choice and action. For the rest of his life he’d carry the scars on his body; hideous reminders of how he’d chosen to save her life and virtue.

Ivar did not fear a lot; but the acceptance of his own mind, everytime he put his own life on the line, petrified him. It went so against his nature and yet felt so common; as if breathing in air. 

His entire life; he’d felt out of place, out of touch. The enslavement had changed him; first it had crumbled him down, shattered him into all these little pieces.

And some of those fragments she’d managed to put in a different order, yet they fit together in ways he had never imagined. Her kindness and will to keep him alive unearthed traits he never knew he possessed. 

Piglet managed to make him feel.

And it did not matter how much he fought it; the urge to live up to her standard of a righteous man; well it manifested and grew to the point where he no longer recognized the person he’d been, once. What felt like a lifetime ago. 

Before, before, at times he couldn’t recall ‘before’ the Castle of de Haar. 

It hurt too much to speak and so he whimpered. In response, she held his hand a little firmer and she sang. 

.-.-.

A/N: So in this episode we have Valerie have a little meltdown, I am curious about your thoughts over this. Also in this episode Piglet being threatening for once, you go girl, everything for our poor cripple bastard. Poor Ivar, I just keep beating him up, but hey in order to rise… I like that in this last bit of the chapter he’s ‘showing’ us he’s coming to terms with the changes he’s been going through ever since the start of Changing Course. He’s different, still merciless at times and a complete berserker. But there’s also empathy, fear, kindness and sadness. I still fully believe he mourned the Fair-Maiden and Stum. 

And Piglet, she managed to get so deep under his skin.

I’d love to read your thoughts,

Xoxoxox Nukyster

The kickass beta: @sarahh-jane

The tagged ones:

@youbloodymadgenius

@xbellaxcarolinax

@saldelys

@shannygoatgruff

@pieces-by-me

@apenas-mais-uma-pessoa

@readsalot73

@lauraan182

@conaionaru

@sarahh-jane

@peachyboneless

@adhdnightmare

@khiraeth

@funmadnessandbadassvikings​

@ dekusdante  @neondragons7

@bitter-post-millennial​

@noway4u​

@tessakate

#ivar the boneless #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #alex hogh andersen #vikings #vikings fanfiction #ivar oc #ivar fanfic

[mommytauriel]

+ · 。~ OC chart for Thyra

This is my oc chart for my oc Thyra! She will be the main character for my upcoming Vikings story! I’m still wondering if I should post the story on here as well, please let me know what you guys think! I hope you guys like her!

This was my first time doing something like this! I’m definitely going to be doing this for other oc’s of mine 🤗

Feel free to send in some asks or questions that you have for this story! I would love to answer them 🫶🏻

#🧣oc thyra #vikings #vikings x reader #vikings fandom #vikings fanfiction #vikings fic #ragnar lothbrok #bjorn lothbrok #vikings ubbe #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe fanfic #ivar the boneless #vikings ivar #ivar ragnarsson #vikings fluff

[eu-nicola]

vikings x fem!oc

It was going to be with reader but I needed to give it a name

my first language isn’t English and I didn't correct this

summary: vikings brothers have a sister who can control dragons and has powerful magic (anon request)

The baby Freyja had been born with an eye the same as that of a snake with a different color and pupil shape, it was thought that it was because of her ancestors and that it was a way of proving that in the future she was going to be a strong and powerful as her father was. And they weren’t wrong.

In one of Ragnar's trips he found a somewhat strange egg, larger than a normal one with scales and green in color, he took it and took it to his sweet daughter, this was going to be the compensation gift for being gone so long. The day her father returned home the little girl was playing away from everyone while they were looking for her, she didn't care and continued with her game because she thought it was funny how she could move the twigs in the air and throw them far away she even try to try with a big stone but it was too big for someone so tiny.

When they finally found her, her mother didn't realize what she was doing, she just told her it was time to stop playing and took her inside so she could see her father, he welcomed her with open arms and a kiss on the cheek. When the girl began to ask him a thousand questions about where he had been he immediately smiled and took out his gift, Freyja was surprised to see her new gift, it was beautiful for her.

Over time the girl realized that it was not a normal egg and saw a small dark green dragon come out of there, just like its shell, she loved this but she did not want to tell anyone because it was her secret, it was her dragon and if she said so maybe they would want to take it from her and she didn't want to, so she decided to hide it in a cave that she had seen once with her father and brothers not so far from the place but that no one ever went to.

Months passed and even in such a short time the dragon had grown immensely, Freyja, only 6 years old, escaped every day without anyone seeing her and brought the dragon something to eat, she always convinced a prisoner to follow her and she took them there for the dragon she had called "Arrax", certainly she was never afraid to take a prisoner because she knew that they couldn't do anything to her because she had her dragon taking care of her.

One morning Freyja was trying to get a prisoner and escape but for the first time her brothers saw her and instead of telling her something they just followed her to the cave with the prisoner being sure that the man was not going to do something before they killed but it was not necessary because they were surprised when they saw the dragon eat the man in one bite. Immediately the girl noticed the presence of her brothers and smiled at them as if what she had done was a little game. "brothers", the little girl yelled, she came to hug them and at that moment Freyja introduced Arrax to them and she tell them that he was a good pet and very pretty, when her half-brother Bjorn wanted to push her away, she immediately made him fly away the air raising it as she had once done with that twig but now she had been able to do it with it.

"Don't try to take me away from Arrax again." she told them.

At first everyone was so surprised at the beast that even they who are not afraid of anything for a moment were afraid of the dragon. For now no one was going to say anything but maybe in the future when his sister became a woman they would be able to use the dragon for their own purposes. Without speaking they all looked at each other and it seemed that they agreed even Freyja herself that she was already eager to ride the dragon and feed it with her enemies.

#vikings #vikings ivar #ivar x oc #ivar the boneless #bjorn ragnarsson #bjorn lothbrok #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe lothbrok #hvitserk lothbrok #vikings hvitserk #imagine #oneshot #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #hvitserk x reader

[istorkyou]

A Thousand Battles (A Modern Ivar AU)

A modern!Ivar x F OC (Julietta Lothbrok)

Warnings- Angst, violence, death, smut.

Synopsis - Julietta wakes up with no memory of her life or her husband, Ivar. Will it ever return? Does she want it to?

Word Count - 3113

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ @noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree

Masterlist

Chapter 14 - Final Chapter

He is in a meeting when his phone vibrates in his pocket. Well, it’s not really a meeting, more of an information gathering session in a warehouse involving sharp instruments and spilled blood. He’s been taking on more and more of these ‘meetings’ since she disappeared, a good way to expel some of his rage and sadness productively.

He walks away from the man he is dealing with, wipes his hands on a cloth and gets his phone out to an interesting message on his screen.

One of her passports was used to get into the country three hours ago.

A smile quirks onto his lips very briefly followed by a deep inhalation of breath.

“You, take over from here. Just kill him. I’ve got the information I need now.”

He hears a gunshot behind him as he heads out to his armoured SUV to take him back to the estate.

When he arrives back he doesn’t go to the main house but straight to their house. He knows Ragnar would have got the same message and he needs to check something out first before he sees his father. He hurries to their shared closet, still full of her clothes and he pulls out the black shoes with the red soles, her stash spot, pulling out an untraceable phone. He turns it on and waits. The phone beeps twice. Two messages. Both from anonymous numbers, both from her.

Coming home. Too dangerous now.

See me before they get to me? I will come alone. I miss you so much.

He texts back quickly.

Yes. Will message soon. I love you. Thank you for all the photos last week, baby.

As he stashes the phone back he lets his finger run over the notebook that took him less than three days to decipher. One of the reasons he searched so hard for her and established secret communication. He cried for days when he broke the code and read her words. An anthology of love, dating from the night they met, describing every feeling she ever had for him, her deep love, the light he had reignited inside her after years of living in the black. Much as he had before he met her. The reasons why she acted as she did after Sardinia, the threats made against his life, the coldness she showed him when underneath she felt nothing but adoration. She explained it all in a diary she never intended for anyone to read. Her soul lives in these pages, and so does his.

Always and forever, no matter how far apart.

———————

He heads to the main house and into his fathers study.

”I am sure you’ve seen the message. She has returned.” Ragnar says without looking up from his papers.

Ivar nods. “I’ll take care of it. She will contact me soon, I’m sure of it.”

Ragnar looks up and stares into his son's eyes, carbon copies of his own. “Will you be able to finish the job this time? She cannot live, Ivar. She simply must die. If you feel like you can’t do it, or she will get the drop on you again I’ll send a whole team to hunt her down.”

“I’ll do it father. She is my responsibility. I will not fuck it up again. I’ll let you know when she contacts me and what the plan is from there.”

Ragnar nods in agreement and rounds his desk to embrace his son. “I am sorry for this, sorry it has to be done. You understand though?”

“I do. It’s been a long time coming,” Ivar says tersely, “I’ll speak to you soon.”

———————

He leaves the estate in his own vehicle, he drives for an hour and no one is following him. He pulls into a multi-storey car park and switches cars and drives for an hour to another car park and does the same.

It’s dark by the time he reaches the hotel. A shitty, off the track hotel he’d never be seen dead in usually. He walks as quickly as he can to a door and knocks three times.

The door opens a fraction and he pushes it the rest of the way, slowly revealing his wife to him. She has her gun pointed at him.

“Alone?”

“Alone, baby.” He steps in and shuts the door behind him before they walk quickly towards each other, arms pulling the other into a tight embrace, clinging to the other, tears falling.

“I missed you so much, Liet.”

“Fuck I missed you so much too.”

They pull at each other’s clothing, frantic to get the other naked as quickly as possible. When their goal is managed they fall onto the crappy, lumpy hotel bed together on their sides, her leg over his waist before he pushes her onto her back and he crawls over her, their mouths attached the whole time. She grabs his hard cock and lines him up a half a second before he pushes deep into her.

Their mirrored groans into each other’s mouths make them giggle.

“Fuck, love, you feel so good,” he says into her mouth before moving her inside of her, drawing deep, low moans from her. “I missed you every second of every day.”

“Me too, Ivar. Harder, please, harder!”

Their fingers dig into each other's skin, pulling into the other, trying to close the millimetres left between their bodies, a desperate need to feel every part of the other, a desperate need to fill the two year gap since they last were with each other physically.

It takes no time for their knowledge of each other’s bodies to kick in and they make each other orgasm. Shuddering against each other, the air blue with obscenities.

When they finally loosen their grip on the other they stay as close as possible, noses touching, laying on their sides, hands running up each other’s backs.

“Hi, baby,” he laughs out.

“Hi, love,” she giggles in reply.

They just stare at each other, who knows for how long. Long enough for him to run his hand through her longer hair. To run his fingers over some new scarring on her body. Long enough for her to touch his thigh where she inflicted a break. Long enough to revel in his eyes and compare them to his.

“Anyone since us, Ivar? Are you happy?”

“No one. No one ever again. Always and forever, baby. You?”

“Never for me, Ivar. You and only you. I need you to be happy again though. After all this.”

Ivar waves his hand as if dismissing her words. There is no point in lying to her, pretending he will ever let anyone in again so he just changes the subject.

“I did what you asked, love, I killed Lev.”

Her eyes fill with tears and she lets out a giggle of relief. “Thank you, Ivar. How?”

“I peeled his skin off slowly and I made him watch videos of us when we were happy, after the accident. He begged for your forgiveness and his life in the end, love.”

A nasty sneer flashes across her face. “Good, he deserves every second of pain you inflicted on him.”

A comfortable silence settles between them again before Ivar breaks it. “Where is he, Liet?”

“He’s safe I promise. I will need to get back to him in the early morning. That’s why I’m back, it’s too dangerous now. I’ve had too many close calls and I’m frightened for him. He needs stability, Ivar. I’m done running. I’m here to face what I need to, and to give you your son. You need to keep him safe from now on. I can’t offer him that any longer.”

Ivar knew this is why she had come back. Knew his men had almost caught her in Belize. Had heard rumours of her father almost tracking her down in Peru. Ivar almost gave himself away numerous times trying to throw them off her and their sons scent, Ragnar was suspicious at one point and that was when the Belize incident happened. He had warned her but a little too late. He begged her to bring his son back to him but she wasn’t ready.

She is ready now.

Ivar clears his throat, trying to dislodge the ball in it. “I am going to talk to my father. Things are different now, with the baby. I… I’ll talk sense into him. We can be toget…” the rest of his sentence is cut off by her lips crashing his. When she pulls away she gives him a little smile.

“Ivar. We’ve talked about this. Your father will not allow me to live, for his reputation and his own peace of mind. I knew coming back here it would be the end for me, I’m under no illusion I will not die tomorrow. I thought you had come to terms with it, baby?” She runs her hand over his furrowed brow and her thumb wipes a tear away. “Even if Ragnar allowed it, which he absolutely will not, I wouldn’t allow it. If my father knew I was back, knew about our son, he would never stop coming for me, for him. He wouldn't stop until we were all cold in the ground, everyone, your mother, father and brothers. There would be no peace until he had our son in his care. I can not allow that. I’m here so our baby can have a life without being hunted for the mistakes I made.” She is aware her voice isn’t as soft as she would like it to be, but she also knows that Ivar responds to this cold, detached hard truth. “I have loved you enough for a whole lifetime, this is how it has to be, love. You know this.”

He doesn’t reply, he nods stiffly and a silence settles between them.

“Liet. He will always know about you, I’ll never let him forget how much you love him, how much we love each other. No one will poison his mind against you.”

His heart breaks entirely to pieces as she crumbles down in front of him. She knows this is her last night on this Earth. Her actual last night this time. She is giving herself up for the sake of their baby. Their 14 month old baby who has his fathers eyes nestled in the features of his mother.

The greatest sacrifice a mother can make.

“Ivar, try to raise him out of this life. I know that won’t be easy, but send him to college, make him useful away from the violence. Make sure my father doesn’t get to him. Make sure Ragnar doesn’t ruin him. I’m trusting you with our baby, Ivar. You need to do for him what my past had robbed from me, a chance at a happy future. Be soft with him, like you are with me. Be loving and supportive no matter who he turns out to be or the choices he makes. Show him my Ivar, not the Ivar everyone else sees. Promise me?”

“I promise. I will be the best father,” Ivar says resolutely.

She gives him a genuine smile. “I have absolutely no doubt that you will.”

“Tell me more about him, baby.”

They spend the next few hours talking about him, his likes, his dislikes, how he sleeps curled up next to her every night with his favourite Elephant cuddly. She explains how rough the next few months will be for Ivar, he is his daddy but FaceTime can’t replicate a real connection. She explains how to best comfort him, what songs to sing him and how to make him laugh, what she wants for him in the future. She tells Ivar she has written letters for when he is older so he can understand what happened, but that it will be up to Ivar to judge when and if he feels their son can handle the information. Ivar says nothing, he just soaks up every word.

“I think that’s it.” She glances at her watch.”I will send you a text at 11am to tell me to meet me at 4pm. Your father will intercept it, we both know he will send someone. Just…. Just cover his eyes before, promise me you won’t both watch me die.”

“I promise. I promise you. We have 8 hours until I need to be home to get the message.”

“8 hours.”

“Those hours are for us and us only.” He reaches for his phone, and taps until the room is filled with music.

Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac.

He stands up and holds his hand out to her. “Come dance with me one last time, baby.”

Her eyes mist over again as she goes to him, clinging to him tightly. She closes her eyes, compartmentalises the coming day and enjoys every second they have remaining.

————————-

9am rolls around and it’s time for him to go.

They cling to each other before she loosens her grip and grabs his face, pulling it closer to hers.

“In the next life, Ivar. I will find you in the next and every life we have after. Look after our baby.”

He holds her face, forehead touching hers. “This life and the next. I love you. I will keep him safe. I promise on everything I am, my beautiful Liet. The bravest person I’ve ever met, my fighter, my Valkyrie.”

They share a kiss, a kiss so full of love, pain, admiration and promise that they both smile and cry as they pull away and he leaves.

—————————

His phone beeps dead on 11am.

Meet me at warehouse 2c at 4pm. Just you. I have something for you.

He enters the main house to his father waiting in his study.

“You saw the message?” he asks his Father.

“I did. I wonder what she has for you?”

“A bullet in my brain I would imagine?”

Ragnar regards him, hard eyes travelling over his face. “Take your gun. You shoot her on sight. There is nothing she has that we need, nothing she can give you worth anything. Kill her and we can all move on.”

Ivar nods quickly. “That is my plan.” He turns to walk out of his fathers office.

Ragnar waits until the heavy slam of the front door hits his ears before picking up his phone. “4pm. The docks. Set up a sniper. Kill her if he hesitates.”

——————-

Ivar pulls up to the warehouse and sits for a second. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, trying to stop the flow of tears that have been cascading down his face the whole 45 minute ride over. His heart is ripping to shreds inside his chest, despite having years to come to terms with it, a tiny sliver of bright hope lit his black soul thinking they could be a family one day. His rational brain knew it would never happen, she told him weekly it would never be the case, but the fact that the end is now is too much for him to bear.

But bear it he must. Not for her, or himself, but for their beautiful son.

He walks into the warehouse and his trained eyes see the minuscule glint from the sniper rifle up high in the corner. He will be sure to tell his father about the snipers fuck up.

His eyes find her, standing in the centre of the massive room, her back to him. His heart stops. She hasn’t brought the baby, he can’t see his son. When he is close enough he gets his gun out and points it at her.

“Liet?”

She turns slowly, their baby asleep in her arms, she doesn’t look at Ivar, she doesn’t take her eyes off their baby, soaking in every last second she has with him. He lowers his weapon as soon as he sees his son.

“The sniper is shit, love. I spotted him the second I walked in,” she chuckles lightly, “tell Ragnar I said he needs better men.

————

The sniper can’t hear what they are saying, and neither can Ragnar watching from his office from a camera feed attached to the rifle.

“Sir, she has a baby in her arms.”

“I can see that.”

“Shall I take the shot?”

“No. Do not dare. I’m pretty sure I am looking at my grandchild.” Ragnars eyes are full of tears. It’s been years since anything elicited such emotion from him. He understands now why Ivar has tried to keep her safe these past two years, not just out of love for her, but a fathers love for his child.

Ragnar wipes his eyes and rolls his shoulder. “Be ready. This is an exchange. When it’s done I will give the word.”

—————

Julietta gives Ivar a look of pure love. “Ready, baby? When I hand him to you I need you to turn away and walk out. Don’t watch me die, love. Okay?”

Ivar’s nods twice. They step towards each other, he drops his gun on the floor so he can embrace her one last time. With their foreheads touching, and tears on their faces she hands the baby to Ivar, bends down, sniffs the baby's head and kisses him before turning her attention back to his father, placing a slow kiss on his lips.

“In the next life, love,” she says

“Always and forever,” he replies.

She takes two steps back and Ivar swivels on his heels, clinging to his son, lurching away on his crutch.

———-

“Sir, shall I take the shot now?”

Ragnar is silent. His heart is breaking for his son but he knows what must be done. Even if he saw fit to let her live Ragnar knows her own father would never stop coming for her and if he were ever to catch up with her he would torture her to death. Ragnar rolls his shoulders and clenches his teeth.

———-

Ivar hears the pop and the whizz of the bullet from the sniper fly past him. He hears the grunt from her chest on impact and he hears as she falls to the floor with a thud.

The tears in his eyes blind him, he squeezes his eyes shut to clear them. He wants to scream up into the universe, make the whole world hear his pain. But he looks into the face of his sleeping son in his arms and knows he won’t, he won’t scare him. So he holds it in, to be let out at a later time when his son is not with him.

He will be the best father to their son

For her.

His beautiful Liet.

FIN.

#modern ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #modern vikings #ubbe #modern!ubbe #modern!hvitserk #ivar x oc #vikings fanfic #vikings imagine #vikings au #vikings ivar #ivar vikings #ivar #ivar smut #ivar fanfic #ivar imagine

[norei01]

♔.

#oc #original character #noreioc #創作 #i hate this bastard a no normal amount #he's Ivar's father but they look the exact same age cause yes #artists on tumblr #illustration