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#vikings imagines
zapreportsblog · 7 months
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❝army of ivarrsons❞
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✭ pairing : ivar the boneless x reader
✭ fandom : vikings
✭ summary : ivar has always thought of himself to be a failure of a man, his legs did not work like an normal man, his prick did not work. The only thing he was good for was being a prince and a warrior though he wasn’t all that good at being even those in his eyes, but then along came a woman. One so pure, so beautiful she looked to be a goddess amongst men. And with those sweet words she spoke “I will bare you many sons ivar the boneless.”
✭ authors note : I have requests closed as y’all seen but it’s only temporarily, haven’t really been up to writing and seeing as how I had many ideas in mind for stories I thought fuck it let’s try again
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The morning sun cast a golden glow over the great hall of Ivar's family estate, illuminating the long wooden table laden with bread, cheese, and freshly caught fish. Ivar sat at the head of the table, his older brother Sigurd to his right. As usual, Sigurd couldn't resist testing his patience.
"Good morrow, brother," Sigurd teased, a wicked glint in his eye. "Have you finally learned how to eat without spilling half your breakfast on your tunic?"
Ivar clenched his jaw, determined to keep his composure. Their sibling rivalry had existed for as long as he could remember, and it showed no signs of waning. He forced a strained smile. "I'm making progress, Sigurd, unlike some."
Before the exchange could escalate further, the heavy wooden doors of the great hall swung open with a thunderous crash. A thrall, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat, stumbled into the room. The hushed conversations ceased, and all eyes turned to the intruder.
Ivar rose from his seat, ready to reprimand the thrall for her lack of decorum, but before he could utter a word, she dropped to her knees, her head bowed low.
"Forgive me, my lords," the thrall panted, her voice trembling. "I bring urgent news."
Ivar exchanged puzzled glances with Sigurd. Urgent news was a rarity in their peaceful corner of the world. He gestured for the thrall to continue.
She raised her head, revealing wide, terrified eyes. "Freya herself has come and blessed us. She walks among us."
The words hung in the air like a spell, and a collective gasp swept through the hall. Ivar's skepticism wrestled with the growing sense of anticipation. Gods did not simply descend from the heavens to walk among mortals.
Before he could question the thrall further, the great hall erupted into chaos. The guests and servants rushed toward the entrance, shoving past each other in their eagerness to catch a glimpse of the so-called Freya. Ivar, however, moved reluctantly through the crowd, his curiosity piqued despite his reservations.
And there she stood, in the center of the throng, an ethereal vision that defied belief. Freya, if that truly was her name, had luscious hair that billowed in the wind, eyes that seemed to hold both otherworldly wisdom and untold mysteries. Her face was mature but agelessly youthful, her features mirroring the very essence of a Viking legend. It was as if the stories of the gods themselves had come to life.
The hall was filled with awe-struck whispers as people fell to their knees, proclaiming that the gods had indeed come to pay them a visit.
Amidst the reverence, Freya's gaze found Ivar's, and she offered him a serene smile. A shiver ran down his spine as their eyes locked. Something unspoken passed between them.
"We have much to talk about," she said, her voice carrying a mysterious weight that left Ivar both uneasy and captivated.
As the crowd continued to kneel and worship the divine presence before them, Ivar couldn't help but wonder what secrets this so-called Freya held and how her arrival would reshape their world.
Ivar stood alongside his older brothers, Sigurd, Hvitserk, and Ubba, each of them caught between awe and skepticism as they gazed upon the enigmatic woman who claimed to be Freya. The hall had fallen into reverent silence, save for the murmurs of those who dared to question her divine presence.
"Are you truly the goddess Freya?" Sigurd finally ventured to ask, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and curiosity.
Freya, or the woman who bore her name, smiled, but her response held an air of mystery. "My face holds many names, Freya may just be one of them."
The brothers exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of her cryptic words. It was Ubba who stepped forward, his towering frame casting a shadow over the ethereal figure before them. "Why have you come to bless us, then?" he inquired, his tone respectful but inquisitive. "If I may ask without sounding rude."
The woman, who had introduced herself as (Y/N), let out a melodic laugh that echoed through the hall. "Rude? Not at all, dear Ubba. You see, I am here for Ivar."
Ivar's heart skipped a beat as all eyes turned toward him. He had been prepared for many things this day, but not for such a direct and unsettling revelation. He struggled to find his voice. "For me?"
(Y/N) nodded, her enigmatic smile never faltering. "Yes, for you, Ivar. If you were to accept me into your home, I would bear you many healthy children."
The words hung in the air, pregnant with meaning and implications that Ivar could hardly fathom. The weight of her gaze bore down on him, as if she could see into the depths of his soul. It was a proposition unlike any other, one that would reshape not only his destiny but that of his family and people as well.
Sigurd couldn't suppress the unease that gnawed at his heart. He looked from his brothers to (Y/N), his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Why him, and not one of us?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.
(Y/N) met Sigurd's gaze with an unwavering serenity. "You are all favored by the gods," she began, her voice carrying an air of wisdom. "But Ivar, he is favored above all. The accomplishments you will face, the children you will bear into this world—they will be great, but not as great as his."
The revelation left Sigurd and his brothers exchanging troubled glances. It was a difficult truth to accept, that their destinies were preordained and that Ivar's path would surpass theirs. But even in the midst of their uncertainty, (Y/N) offered a glimpse of hope.
Ubba, ever the one to voice the unasked questions, spoke next. "If you are truly Freya," he began cautiously, "then how come you are here with us and not your husband, the Allfather? I do not wish to be rude, but you are married to Odin, are you not? Yet you speak of carrying my brothers' children."
(Y/N) smiled, her eyes holding a mixture of fondness and sadness. "Odin and I have long since split," she explained. "But for the sake of the other gods, we remain faithful to one another—just not in the way one would think."
The brothers exchanged another set of glances, their minds trying to grasp the complexities of divine relationships and the implications of (Y/N)'s presence in their lives.
Amidst the questions and uncertainties, Ivar felt a wave of insecurity washing over him. He couldn't help but voice his doubt, his voice laden with self-deprecation. "You should choose one of my brothers or someone else," he said, his tone laced with a mix of humility and resignation. "They are able men and can do all the things a woman would need in a man. You don't deserve a cripple like me."
(Y/N) turned his head gently, making him meet her gaze once more. Her smile remained, unwavering. "But yet I chose you."
The words held a weight that Ivar struggled to comprehend. In that moment, he couldn't help but wonder if he truly understood the depths of the path that lay ahead, one where gods and mortals intertwined in ways he had never imagined.
As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, Ivar found himself giving in to the uncharted territory that (Y/N) had brought into his life. The same night they met, they wed an impromptu ceremony all of Kattegat’s members and held a extravagant feast of celebration.
Now, in the dimly lit chamber, amidst the cheers and laughter, the newlyweds were about to partake in the bedding ceremony. Ivar couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he apologized, his voice tremulous. "I'm not very good at this," he admitted, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment.
(Y/N) leaned in close, her eyes holding a comforting reassurance. "You'll do just fine," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "I've seen how your first time went, my dearest ivar. It is normal to be nervous, especially when it's not the one you truly want."
Ivar felt a surge of relief wash over him. Her understanding words eased his doubts, and he let himself surrender to the passion that simmered between them.
Throughout the night, their love-making was fervent, passionate, and filled with a longing that transcended mere physical desire. The hours blurred together, and the dawn found them entwined, their bodies and souls intimately connected.
The next morning, Ivar awoke with a grin that was unusually happy for the stoic prince. Ubba, his older brother, noticed the change in his demeanor and couldn't help but inquire, "Did something happen to Sigurd, brother?" He assumed that Ivar might have witnessed their brother's misfortune or a rejection.
Ivar chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Nothing of that sort, brother."
Not long after both brothers had been joined by Floki - a member close to their family especially their father and seen as another father figure to ivar, for breakfast, the trio exchanged casual conversation, and Ivar's newfound happiness was hard to conceal. In the midst of a seemingly mundane conversation about the weather, Ivar couldn't contain himself any longer.
"I must share some news," he declared, his voice ringing with confidence. "Last night, I performed well in bed. Every round, to the very end."
Ubba, caught off guard, nearly choked on his mead. Floki raised an eyebrow, intrigued but nevertheless proud by the sudden announcement. "Is that so, Ivar?"
While Ubba struggled to contain his astonishment, he managed to offer a hearty congratulations to his brother, even if a tinge of bitterness lingered. The doubts that had plagued Ivar, the assumptions made by his brothers, had all been dispelled in the passionate hours he had shared with (Y/N).
It had been just a week since Ivar and (Y/N) had wed, but the news that swept through the village was enough to send everyone into celebration. (Y/N), still affectionately referred to as Freya by the villagers, was pregnant with the heir of Ivar, the prince of Kattegat.
Upon hearing the news, Ivar wasted no time in throwing a grand feast to celebrate this momentous occasion. The great hall was adorned with banners and torches, and the long tables were laden with the finest foods and meads. It was a joyous occasion, and the entire village turned out to celebrate the impending arrival of their future leader.
Throughout the festivities, Ivar's attentiveness to his wife was unmistakable. He was by (Y/N)'s side at every turn, anticipating her needs before she even voiced them. If she desired a drink, he would fetch it for her or have a thrall pour it with haste. When she wanted more meat, he ensured her plate was overflowing with it. And when she complained of stiffness in her shoulders and back from the long hours of celebration, he was there to ease the tension, his strong hands working wonders on her weary muscles.
Everyone could see the happiness that (Y/N) brought into Ivar's life, and it was evident in every glance, every gesture, and every tender touch between them. Despite the brevity of their marriage, their connection was undeniable, and it had only grown stronger with the promise of a child.
As the night wore on, and the revelry continued, Ivar found himself in a state of contentment he had never known before. With (Y/N) by his side and the prospect of fatherhood on the horizon, he couldn't help but look to the future with hope and excitement. The people of Kattegat watched their prince with admiration, knowing that he was not only a formidable leader but also a devoted husband, eagerly anticipating the arrival of his heir.
The months had went by swiftly and soon the long-awaited day had arrived. The air in the room was filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as (Y/N) prepared to give birth to Ivar's heir. The labor had been long and exhausting, pushing (Y/N) to her limits, but she persevered with unwavering strength and determination. Ivar stood by her side, providing constant support and encouragement, never leaving her sight.
As the hours turned into eternity, the cries of pain echoed through the room. The midwife worked diligently, guiding (Y/N) through each contraction, offering words of comfort and reassurance. By her side, Ivar held her hand tightly, his eyes never leaving her face. He could see the strain etched upon her features but admired her resilience in the face of such intense pain.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the moment arrived. The cries of a newborn filled the room, and tears of relief streamed down (Y/N)'s face. Ivar's heart swelled with joy as he looked upon the tiny face of his firstborn son. The room seemed to glow with an ethereal light, as if the gods themselves had blessed this moment.
"I am truly blessed by the gods," Ivar whispered, his voice filled with awe. "For I have a wife, the fairest of them all - the goddess Freya herself - in my arms, with my firstborn son, an heir. I never thought I would find such happiness, but I am grateful that I have."
(Y/N) smiled weakly, her eyes shining with love and exhaustion. She reached out a trembling hand to touch Ivar's cheek, her touch filled with tenderness and gratitude. "And I am blessed to have you, my dearest Ivar," she whispered. "You have given me strength and love beyond measure."
In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist, overshadowed by the miracle of new life. Ivar and (Y/N) found solace in each other's arms, cherishing the precious gift they had been given.
The midwife gently placed the newborn in (Y/N)'s arms, and Ivar marveled at the sight. His heir, his legacy, lay peacefully in his mother's embrace. There was a newfound sense of purpose and responsibility that settled upon Ivar's broad shoulders.
As he looked upon his wife and son, Ivar knew that he would protect and cherish them with all his might. He, a warrior feared by many, had found his greatest joy in the form of his family. With a heart filled with love and gratitude, Ivar vowed to be the father his son deserved, and not the man his own father had been.
Six years had passed since the day Ivar and (Y/N) had wed, and in that time, Ivar had become a force to be reckoned with. At the age of twenty-four, he had accomplished more than he had ever dreamed of. He had conquered lands, brought riches to Kattegat, and solidified his reputation as a formidable leader.
But it wasn't just his conquests that defined his success; it was the growing family he had built with (Y/N) by his side. Their firstborn, Arvid, had been a source of immense pride for Ivar, carrying the weight of being the heir to the throne. Following Arvid, twin boys named Audun and Axel had joined their family.
Their blessings continued with the birth of a daughter, Astride, who brought a new kind of joy into their lives. And after Astride, more sons had followed: Ase, Bodil, Dane, Ebbe, Eir, and Inge, each one a testament to the love and connection between Ivar and (Y/N).
Now, with the passage of time, the couple found themselves on the brink of another exciting chapter in their lives. (Y/N) was expecting once more, and this time, they had received the news that they were to welcome another set of twins into their growing family.
The prospect of more children filled Ivar with a deep sense of pride and fulfillment. He had not only achieved great success in his endeavors but had also created a legacy that would continue to shape the future of Kattegat for generations to come. With (Y/N) by his side, he looked forward to the challenges and joys that lay ahead, knowing that their love and the family they had built together were the greatest treasures of all.
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multific · 1 year
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In Love with a Monster
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Ivar the Boneless x Reader
A/N: Dedicated to the one and only @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl
Summary: Being in an arranged marriage, you told your husband was a monster.
"He is a monster, yet you want me to marry him?!"
"It is best for our kingdom. And it is final, you will marry Ivar!" your father's words sent shivers down your spine. You have been arguing and trying to reason with him for the past hours to no avail.
Your father was a stubborn man, ever since you lost your mother, it got worse.
But having you marry a Viking? 
He said it was to ensure the relationship since Vikings were great at fights.
He explained that soon, a carriage will arrive for you and you will be taken to Kattegat to your husband.
And it was final.
You felt betrayed by your own father.
But what did you expect?
You knew he had been looking for a husband for you. You just never expected that he would find such a man, or as he said, a monster.
You had a terrible nightmare, dreaming of monsters as you woke up in cold sweat. 
Your life might as well end now.
But the next day, just as your father said, the carriage arrived and soon, you were on a boat sailing towards your demise and misery.
To be married to a Viking monster.
---
Ivar on the other hand was rather excited. When his mother told him about a Princess he will marry, he found himself to be rather excited and nervous.
He walked with his brothers towards the waters, seeing the boat, Ivar let out a sigh.
Hoping his bride would not be too afraid of him.
---
As you got off the boat a kind woman stepped forward. She was the Queen, wife of Ragnar, Aslaug. 
"Meet my sons, this is Ubbe, Sigurd, Hvitserk and your husband to be, Ivar." you kindly bowed to all of them and you could feel them staring at you. You wondered if your dress was possibly too much. You knew better than to stare but you did notice the weird contraption around Ivar's legs.
"He is a cripple, he cannot walk but do not let that fool you, he is a monster, a terrible murderer who would take down an army by himself." your father's words rang in your head.
"Currently the wedding is being planned so I think it would be best to let you rest, I'll show you to your room." said Aslaug, breaking the silence. 
You nodded one last time and the men in front of you before turning to follow their mother. She guided you to a house and inside she showed you a room. "Now, this would be only before your wedding, of course after it, you would be with Ivar. Welcome to Kattegat." she smiled before leaving you alone in the room to get ready for the wedding.
You let out a sigh.
"Are all monsters this handsome?" you said to yourself quietly before two servants arrived to get you dressed.
---
"You are lucky, Brother!" said Hvitserk as he patted Ivar on the back, they all walked off the docks, heading to their business. "She is a beauty!"
"And a Princess! You are clearly mother's favourite child, giving you such a bride. OR she just feels sorry for you." said Sigurd but Ivar didn't pay any mind to him.
His mind was filled with you.
How beautiful you looked, how shy you were. He was certain you have seen his legs, or at least heard about them. 
Ivar couldn't stop thinking about you. His senses were filled as he could recall a small whiff of your scent. Such a sweet and innocent woman you were, he could tell.
You will be the perfect wife and a great Viking.
His princess.
---
You looked at yourself in your gown as the servants left and gave you some space. 
You felt your hands shake, you knew you were about to be married to a monster.
You were terrified.
You learned a long time ago that people with beautiful faces can be the most cruel. 
And it is what you expected.
---
Ivar watched you walk towards him. Looking like a goddess, Ivar's breath was taken away immediately.
He could tell his brothers also had the same thought. 
Soon, you will be his wife, only his. 
He could see your hands shake as you said your vows.
You were his now.
His woman.
His wife.
His Princess.
His.
As the wedding concluded, now it was time for celebration. Everyone danced, drank and ate.
Ivar saw you looking around, as if trying to learn the habits. Ivar liked that you were willing. 
You, on the other hand, stared at all these people while feeling the burning looks coming from your left, Ivar kept staring at you, making you nervous.
You didn't want the night to end. You were terrified of being alone with him. You did everything that you could just to avoid being alone with him. 
You were rather surprised that Ivar didn't do anything that evening. He showed you his home but that was it, he soon headed to his bed and slept. Leaving you and your thoughts alone.
You were thankful he didn't force you.
---
This went on for a couple of days.
Ivar either ignored or barely acknowledged your presence. 
And you, were terrified of him. Being how your father put all these ideas into your head before he sent you off. 
Slowly, you started to believe they weren't true.
A monster would surely have hurt you or forced you. Ivar never did.
A monster would hurt you or leave you out in the cold. Ivar never did. Instead, he invited you into his home, his bed even, gave you furs and always made sure the fire was crackling away in its place.
During the first days, you would be afraid to fall asleep, fearing he would try something while you weren't aware of it.
But not anymore.
Slowly but surely you were coming around. 
You often heard his brothers tease him about his legs. You wondered if you should say something, but you never did.
Until tonight. When Sigurd decided to be cruel. Ivar was crawling on the floor towards Sigurd when he laughed and pulled the chair back, making Ivar fall. 
You hit the table and stood up. Your eyes locked with Sigurd's you felt everyone staring at you as the room went completely silent.
Sigurd smirked.
"Would the princess like to say something?" his mocking tone changed something inside you.
"We already know you have a tiny cock Sigurd. No need taunt my husband to try and prove otherwise." Sigurd's eyes nearly fell out of his head as Ubbe and Hvitserk laughed. Sigurd looked at Ivar before he walked out of the room, you sat back and finished your meal.
You had no idea what came over you. But you certainly didn't regret it.
"So, you do talk." said Ubbe and it made you look at him.
"Of course I do."
"You have fire in you. You'll be a great Viking." he said as he leaned back in his chair, smirking but you only looked back at your food as you ate. 
You didn't look at Ivar intentionally.
But he was looking at you.
You actually stood up for him. While everyone just sat there laughing, you actually stepped up and defended him. 
And he was grateful.
He had a feeling it wasn't out of pity but rather you had enough of his brother's teasing. 
Ivar smiled to himself as he headed back to his bed. Having his little wife defend him felt truly great. Before, only his mother stood up for him, but now, you did too.
Ivar knew you are afraid of him. It is clear in your actions. But as he pulled his shirt off and laid back in his bed, closing his eyes, all he could think about was you and how beautiful you looked as you told his brother off.
When you entered the room, your eyes were immediately drawn to Ivar. He looked to be asleep on the bed, furs pooling around his waist and his chest on full display.
You were rather taken aback. 
You have never seen him like this before. 
You were shocked. He looked so peaceful and soft. 
The tattoos adoring his chest only made his skin more stunning. The fireplace gave his skin a gorgeous glow. 
You wanted nothing more in that moment than to run your fingers over the ink on his skin.
You wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch.
He looked so comfortable, you wanted nothing more than be held by his arms.
Those strong arms.
You took silent steps, fearing you would wake him. But as you moved to lay down, he stirred as he turned and looked at you.
"I didn't mean to wake you." you said with a low voice. His eyes searched yours, slowly he moved in bed, slightly getting closer to you.
"Are you still afraid of me?" his sudden question made you question yourself.
Sure, during the last couple days, he had been nothing but kind to you.
And it did make you wonder.
He was surely not a monster.
"I don't know." your answer was honest, but you wouldn't say you were scared it was more cautious. 
Cautious because you feared you might have fallen in love with him. And you weren't sure what to do with these feelings.
"My father told me about you before I arrived and I don't think he was right."
"What did he tell you?"
"He told me you were a monster, covered in blood with a wicked smile. Tole me you were a rough man and I would be happy to live a day within your claws. But, I believe he was wrong." you looked down at your hands before looking up into his beautiful eyes. "You have been nothing but kind towards me. I heard you in the kitchen making sure everything was to my liking. You asked your mother for advice and I heard her talk with you about me. I judged you prematurely, and for that, I apologize."
"You are very different from us." he said moving to sit against the pillows. "Your dresses, your hair, the way you speak, eat. I'm simply mesmerised. I feel like I'm falling in love with you, yet don't know anything about you."
There was a moment of silence as you tried to process what he just told you.
"You can be angry and proud, but you can also be gentle and caring. I wouldn't say I love you Ivar, but I can say that I can see myself falling in love with you. I believe we could be happy together here in Kattegat."
"You defended me today. Only my mother did that before."
"I simply had enough of your brother. He believes teasing you would prove his strength but it only shows his weakness. I do like your family however. I do not have siblings, so it is nice to see."
"How many times did Hvisterk try and bed you?" you let out a sigh.
"About... five. But even so, he never touched or forced me. He just simply asked, which I always declined."
"I know you did. He would have told me if he fucked you."
"D-Don't say it like that, please! I wouldn't... sleep with your brother anyway. I believe in the unity of marriage it is sacred." 
"I know you do." Ivar smiled. "Whatever should I do to make you love me, you name it."
"I believe you are already doing enough just by being so patient with me. If you could... I-I would like to be your wife, not just the woman who sleeps in your room. I wish to be a real wife to you as you would be a real husband."
"Tell me what is it you mean by that." Ivar moved even closer, grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest. You looked deeper into his eyes.
"I wish for us to find love in one another. A companionship. I wish to be the one who can calm you when you are the most angry. I wish for us to kiss and make love. To have a future and a happy life."
"You speak so sweetly. Your father was not fully wrong however. I did kill many before and I will continue to do so. If that bothers you-"
"I doesn't. It is who you are. I see it now. It is how Viking's are. I do not want to change you. I quite like you the way you are."
"Even my legs?"
"I do not care for your legs. I believe God had to take something from you otherwise you would have been too powerful." your hand moved to his neck as you pulled him closer until your lips met his. 
You were still why and Ivar could sense that, so he decided to take lead and kiss you with passion.
He soon pulled back, "Now that we kissed, I believe it is time to make love." the way he said it, his accent made a shiver run down you spine, he moved you close to him, his lips finding your neck as his hand held your waist. 
You felt your hands shake but this time, it was more excitement than nervousness.
---
The next morning you woke up to a feeling rather strange, someone was holding you and you felt more tired than you should.
Then after just a second, the memories came back. 
Suddenly, you realized who the arms belonged to and just why you were naked.
It was very early as you could tell, Kattegat was still asleep.
And judging by the soft snores behind you, so was Ivar.
Last night was the first ever you spent with him, it was the perfect night. 
And now, feeling his breath on your neck as his arms held you to his chest, you felt at ease. You felt happy.
You managed to fall in love with the monster.
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2K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 1 year
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Viking Men Being Possessive
Pairing: Ivar, Ragnar, Rollo, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Harekr x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, protectiveness, jealousy, possessiveness, neck kisses, markings, threats, fights, injuries
A/N: There isn't enough Viking content out here. Why is that? Do I need to feed you?
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Because a lot of people tended to underestimate him due to his legs he's developed a very aggressive and protective attitude towards you. He never ever lets go of your hand when you're sitting together and taps his hand on the hilt of his knife whenever any man asks you to drink with them. He always keeps an eye out for anyone who might be dangerous to you and when he does see someone like that he leans over and whispers in your ear to not look, its about to get ugly if they approach you.
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Ragnar always lets you wear his cloak regardless of the temperature. As his future wife you should get used to wearing his clothes don't you think? He is pretty strict with his men when it comes to them interacting with you, he trusts you and most of them but there are a few that he knows would just love to get their hands on you, the most beautiful woman there is.
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Rollo takes a swing at everyone who is a threat to you with no hesitation. He will beat them up first and if they survive ask them who they think they are, approaching his woman. He's the only man who can touch you, the only man who can kiss you, the only man worthy of being with you and protecting you. Some of his fights have a tiny bit of a flare to them, for your amusement and his... later.
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Before you became a couple Ubbe's gotten into quite a few fights over you and the men calling you names. You were the woman he's had his eyes on for the longest time, he will not tolerate any slander towards you. His face might be bruised and his lip split when he pulled you into a kiss but he wanted to send a message to the other warriors there. If anyone would like to come forward and challenge him now that he's made his feelings for you known they are welcome to, but he can't say he won't fight with all his might and leave them standing or capable of it.
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Hvitserk loves to ride with you, with you being in front so he can wrap his arms around you and have easy access to your neck. A neck that he can mark, that he wants to mark every night. Likes to joke around with everyone else about how gifted you are in certain areas but if they even think that he's sharing you they've got another thing coming for them. He's the only one who can talk like this about you, and he's the only one you'd allow it for because you know its his way of bragging that he has the best and most beautiful lover.
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Harekr has you in his lap almost all the time, sitting on his thigh or if he feels like he needs so display that you're his then he will have you sitting on the furs next to him and pressing your cheek against his thigh. He kisses the back of your hand either way, very softly too. Despite his harsh nature he does have moments of calm and love towards you, mostly in private, in public he sprinkles in a few neck kisses to make your pretty skin, and make you moan if he feels like people are looking at you too much.
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woahhhgwendolyn · 8 months
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Being Married To Ivar Would Include...
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-Ivar being really protective over you in every single way possible. He would fight anyone who tries to mess with you or try and take you away from him.
-Him wanting to make sure that you are safe no matter what and always has someone go with you in the village does not matter if it is him or some other warrior going with you.
-During feasts he always has you sit with him. He does not want you to feel alone or have to sit with another man. So, he just wants you to sit with him.
-When you both are in bed, he loves to cuddle with you and be with you all throughout the night. Sometimes, he lets you cuddle him from behind but his most favorite is when he is laying down on his back and then you just lay your head on his chest.
-You both always having fun no matter what is going on. Everyone always notices that you both are always smiling around each other and making each other laugh at any time possible.
-Him always being super gentle with you. He is always gentle touching you. He always makes sure that when he hugs you or even when you both cuddle that he is being gentle and soft with you.
-His brothers have had a small crush on you at some point but have let it go because they had realized that you were staying with Ivar for a long time.
-His brothers liking you and thinking that you are a good fit for him and could handle all of his crazy tendencies.
-Ragnar and Aslaug liking you as well and treating you as if you are their own family and talking to you as such as well.
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writingoddess1125 · 7 months
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Welcome! Request: CLOSED
My name is JC and I love writing!
KOFI
I Write Mostly Angsty Slice of Life but always open to request!
Masterlist below -
10/28 updated
MARVEL
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XMEN
Kurt Wagner
1999 (Ongoing)
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Pt. 3
Pt. 4
Pt. 5
Blowin Me up (Ongoing)
Pt. 1
ONE PIECE
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You Take Care of Their Hair
You get High with Them
Old Men Series Masterlist
Zoro,Luffy,Corazon Child Series
Crocodile, Law, Sanji Child Series
You Take their Hat
You Cook for Them Even though You such at It
How Strong the Old Man Gene's Are
They Lay on your chest
You give them a Massage
You give them Facemask
Drunk + Spiked
The Moment they fell in love with you
Just a Peak
You Die at Birth
(S)cream
Weird Relationship Milestones
Buggy The Clown I'm your Biggest Fan (Completed)
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
My Heart Breaks (Completed)
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Theater Brat (Completed)
Theater Brat
Theater Bart Pt. 2
Theater Brat Pt. 3
Fell In Love Alone (Ongoing)
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Jessica and Roger Rabbit Effect
Part 1
Part 2
My Anchor
Solo Act
Not Flashy
Your Seat Awaits
Trouble Comes in Pairs Pt. 1
NSFW Alphabet
Buggy find out about thirst traps
Buggy finds out about thirst traps pt. 2
Not all Silver and Gold
Pain and Pleasure
Switch Things Up
Boardwalk Artist
Poppy Kisses
First Bounty
Modern AU Buggy -> Part 2
Secret Headcanon
Ocean Eyes
Drunk teasing with bestie
You get him a Corgi
Paints on S/O
Roronoa Zoro
Favorite Bartender
N$FW Alphabet
New Parent Zoro
Dancing With Swords (Ongoing)
Part 1
Luffy D. Monkey
Luffy realizing he's in love with you
Warm Mornings
Thunder Buddies
Sanji
Moral Support
Friend Like Me
A Girl to Love
Usopp
Bar Adventure
Shanks
Tag Youre It
You remind me
My Shooting Star
Mihawk
Call Me Sir
Only Us
NSFW Alphabet
Tag Youre It
My heart lies with you
Fight for pleasure
Look up Darling~
Daddy Mihawk
How and Why?
Crack
Morticia and Gomez Effect
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Pt. 3
Its Done
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Pt. 3
Crocodile
So Annoying
MISC.
Capitan Kuro X Reader
Alvida X Reader
VIKINGS- Coming Soon
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CALL OF DUTY
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Relationship Fluff
Medic of 141
Simon 'Ghost' Riley
Dumb cat that loves Simon
Finds out about thirst traps
Blip on the Radar (Ongoing)
Part 1
Part 2.
John 'Soap' McTavish
Koing
Finds out about thirst traps
But do have other interest and willing to write about other Animes, Cartoons, Shows and More!
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gwen-novella · 1 year
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Ivar Ragnarsson - Nsfw Alphabet
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Pairing: Ivar x female reader
Word count: 3.5K
Warnings: Smut (18+ !!!), it's a nsfw alphabet so expect all things sex, all kinds of kinks, no use of y/n
Summary: A nsfw alphabet for our favorite boy that's only soft for you. Can be read as part of TPAW.
Author’s note: I have reappeared from my hiatus. I decided to finally try my hand at writing fanfics again and thought I'd start off with something short and easy - ended up writing 3.5K words anyways. Mission failed successfully. Please excuse if my writing is a little rusty.
Please consider commenting or reblogging - it really makes my day!
(*) smár brandr = little blade
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Anyone that knows Ivar and has seen the two of you together will notice that he is uncharacteristically open, affectionate, and kind to you. Whenever this is pointed out to you, you always struggle to hide an amused snicker behind a bashful smile. If only they knew. 
The two of you lay entangled on the bed. Your left leg is thrown over Ivars midsection and your arm traces invisible shapes on his chest. Ivar is laying on his back, his left arm lays underneath your body and is stroking up and down your back. Both of your breathing has calmed by now and with the gentle hum of satisfaction in your veins you’d be perfectly content to stay like this forever. 
The almost meditative state you’re in is broken when your left hand is halted in its movements, now gently held in Ivars right. Tilting your head up to look at him, you meet Ivars gaze and the intensity in his eyes almost makes you shy away. "I treasure you, smár brandr." (*)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Ivar doesn’t give much thought to his body. For quite obvious reasons he avoids it as much as possible. He does like his hands though. He’s quite good at using them, whether that be spinning a dagger or wrapping them around your throat. 
Ivar has also become more accepting of the rest of his body as your relationship progresses. How could he not, when you hold his face in your hands, your delicate fingers tracing his features, when you constantly compliment his strong arms and back and when you don’t even bat an eye at the sight of his legs.
When it comes to you, there isn’t a part of your body that Ivar doesn’t like. Though he has a strange fascination with your neck. Kissing it, biting it, but especially wrapping his hand around it. It’s not so much the choking itself that turns him on - but the trust you show him when you allow his fingers to slowly tighten around your throat. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Further elaborated under K = Kink, but Ivars favorite place to cum is deep inside you. "Where I belong", he’d once told you, caressing your lower stomach. However, when the night is still young and he plans to make the both of you cum several times, Ivar enjoys watching you swallow his cum.
Ivar’s sat, fully clothed, at the edge of his bed, his unfocused eyes gazing down at your kneeling form on the ground, your sweet lips wrapped around his cock. You’re sat between his legs, one hand stroking along the length that doesn’t fit in your mouth, the other underneath your skirt, drawing circles over your clit. 
You can tell Ivar is close, his breathing labored as his cock throbs against your eager tongue. His arms move from their place at his side and you’re certain he’ll pull you off him and toss you on the bed, as he does so often, but his hands find their way into your hair, gripping tightly and aiding your movements. 
"I’ll cum down your throat", he raps, sending a bolt of arousal through you, "and you won’t dare swallow until I tell you to."
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
When you and Ivar first slept together it was you who took the lead to begin with. And even though his touches became more confident and urgent throughout, they were clearly still laced with inexperience until they weren’t. 
"Your eyes snap open as you feel a finger drawing circles on your clit, looking down to see Ivar has taken one of his hands off your hips and is instead circling your sensitive nub with his thumb. How he knows to do this, you do not know, but you are thankful for it, already feeling the coil in your stomach tightening."
Ivar would rather spend the rest of his days locked in a shed with an ever-singing Sigurd than admit that he knows those things because he had watched some of his brothers with Margrethe. Looking back, he is deeply embarrassed. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
None. Well, that is if you don’t count his horrid encounter with Margrethe (which you don’t). You were the first woman he ever slept with. 
Don’t worry though, Ivar is very quick learner. Whether that includes learning alongside you, if you’re equally inexperienced, or learning from you, if you’re more experienced. If the latter is the case, expect your prior partners to have some less than pleasant encounters with Ivar.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
It very much depends on his mood. If he wants you to take charge: cowgirl. 
He’ll either sit back against the headboard or lay down flat on his back to watch you bounce and circle your hips above him. Don’t think him to be a passive participant though. Much like his eyes, his mouth and hands won’t stop wandering. His lips find their way to your neck, leaving evidence of the nights activities on your skin for all to see, sucking and biting on your nipples until they’re sore and whispering the filthiest of commands and praises.
Every tilt of your hips grinds your clit against his pubic hair, sending sparks up your spine. So caught up in your pleasure you don’t notice Ivars hand moving until it’s slipped its way around your throat, making your eyes flutter open once more. When had they even closed? 
"Look at you", Ivar groans, "riding me so well, smár brandr." Using his hand to tilt your head down to look at him, Ivar fixes you with his piercing gaze. "Mhm", he hums, "Like a goddess… or a whore." The hand around your throat tightens. 
If Ivar is in the mood to watch you squirm underneath him (which is often) he’ll take you from behind, pressing you flat on your belly and draping himself along your back. 
If anyone has given him reason to be possessive, or jealous, expect to wobble your way around Kattegat the next day. Instead of gripping your throat, like usual, his hand will grip your hair in a makeshift pony tail, either pressing your head into the pillow, or raising your ear to his lips, making sure to tell you who you belong to.
The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your muffled moans against the furs. Ivars hips pound into yours so deeply, you’re sure that you won’t be able to sit properly tomorrow. Suddenly your head is yanked from the pillows and you feel Ivars breath against the side of your face. 
"You’re mine", he hisses. "Mine to love, mine to kiss, mine to fuck." Nibbling along your shoulder Ivar promises darkly: "Tomorrow, when you’re not able to leave this bed, I’ll kill Earl Leif… Perhaps I’ll bring him here first. Would you like that, hm? Make him watch how good only I can make you feel?" 
You don’t even remember what the foreign Earl had done to anger Ivar, your brain not absorbing anything that isn’t the drag of Ivars cock along your walls.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Ivar is a very passionate lover. As such he does really immerse himself into the act. It’s not so much that you’d call him serious in those moments, it’s just that he’s so zeroed in on you - the rest of the world could burn around him for all he cares. 
Sex is also a very vulnerable thing for Ivar. In your chambers, when it’s just you and him, he’s a very different man than the one most perceive him to be. Most people know not to intrude upon your little safe haven, at least if they want to keep all their limbs. 
Hvitserk learned this the hard way one night when in a drunken state he mistook Ivars room for his own. He had barely stepped a foot over the threshold when a dagger had already planted itself into the wooden frame next to his head.
In the afterglow of it all Ivar is probably at his most vulnerable and most relaxed. The two of you will cuddle, talk about everything or nothing at all and sometimes that includes laughing together.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
As explained above Ivar tries to avoid thinking too much about his body. As such he doesn’t groom. His medical condition however has lead to him having impeccable personal hygiene, since his legs often need to be washed, moisturized and bandaged.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Again, Ivar is a very passionate and devoted lover. Most times this will express itself in a raw, sort of untamed way. Some may label this rough - the way his hands firmly grip your hips, the firm snap of his hips and the incessant way he kisses and bites anywhere he can reach can certainly feel like it. Everything he does though is born from love, from devotion.
Occasionally, he slows. Ivars passion become gentle and sweet, drawn out like strings of honey - seeking comfort in you.
You can feel the warmth of his release coat your walls, a pleasant hum of satisfaction in your veins, not as pulsing and exhausting as you’re used to. You make to raise yourself from Ivars cock, from his lap, to cuddle up beside him, when his hands that so softly caress your hips tighten for a split second. 
"Don’t move", Ivar whispers, the first words he’s spoken since he’s entered your heat. "I want to stay like this for a while." You don’t decline.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Since Ivars relationship with sex started off the way it did, sex isn’t really about "getting off" itself. Don’t get him wrong, Ivar enjoys having sex, enjoys cumming, as much as any man. It’s just that he doesn’t crave for it, if it is not with you. 
Ivar doesn’t need sex - he needs sex with you. Ivar doesn’t need release - he needs release with you. If he can’t have you he doesn’t bother.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Breeding Kink
Ivar never thought he’d be able to have kids. He didn’t even think he’d be able to fuck. When one fateful night with you led him to discover that he could in fact please a woman, sex was the only thing on his mind. For weeks you spent every night in Ivars bed, his head in between your thighs, your mouth around his length and his cock deep in your cunt. It was a comment from one of his brothers over breakfast that planted an even deeper desire into his heart. 
Ivar had teased Hvitserk for looking so tired, knowing full well his room was right next to Ivars and that Hvitserk had probably been kept awake by your squealing the night prior. It was then that Ubbe, in an attempt to prevent a fight, almost mindlessly commented: "Don’t fret Hvitserk. Not much longer and he’ll have put a babe in her belly. Then Ivars tiny room will no longer suffice and we’ll be rid of them."
Trust Kink (?)
Hear me out. Ivar’s never really had anyone he could trust completely, some he’s comfortable being vulnerable around. Likewise, he’s also never had anyone that trusted him, that willingly was vulnerable around him. And whilst it took a long time for your relationship to progress to this state, now that it has Ivar cannot get enough of it - this feeling of safety and belonging. 
As such, everything that reminds him of this, anything that is proof of this precious trust is an instant turn on for him. His hand around your throat, him caging you under his body, restraining your hands above your head, cutting your clothes from your body using his dagger… 
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
As explained, Ivar does not take kindly to his time with you being interrupted. Therefore his room it is.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Short answer: You. Long answer: Also you. 
As explained above, once Ivar realized he could have sex, there wasn’t a lot of holding back on his side. He was insatiable. Though, the thing that gets him going more than anything else is the realization that not only could he fuck you, but you wanted him to.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Hurting you.
Anything beyond reddish handprints in the places he grabs you, love bites across your throat and chest and the wobble in your step the next morning is a hard no. Ivar cherishes the trust you two share - he’d never think of doing something to break it.
Sharing.
Even though, when possessive or jealous, Ivar sometimes talks about showing off how well he pleases you, it is all talk. He’d never consider someone intruding in such a vulnerable situation. Besides, you’re for his eyes only.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
"I can show you that there are other ways to please a woman too, if you so wish."
Ivar remembers you whispering those words against his lips the first time you were intimate together, gently reassuring him. After the first few times following that day, when his eagerness to feel your walls wrapped around his cock as fast as possible had slowly calmed from a raging fire to a steady flame, those words of yours kept echoing in his mind. You’d proposed it as an alternative, so technically there was no need for that now, but Ivars curiosity was peaked.
His breath is fanning over your lower stomach, Ivars blue eyes are looking up at you for guidance, between placing kisses on and nipping at your skin. 
"You told me you’d show me. I do not know how to make you feel good like this." A breathless laugh falls from your lips. "I promise to tell you if something does not feel good." 
Ivar huffs but relents nonetheless, his nips and kisses moving lower, a few of them straying to the inside of your thighs, before his tongue suddenly licks a broad stripe up your cunt. Something between a whimper and a moan tears from your throat and Ivar decides right then and there that he wants to hear that sound over and over and over again.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
As explained under I = Intimacy, Ivars love making is usually very passionate. If not fast, his thrusts will at the very least be hard and deep, hands firm on whichever part of your body he chooses to grab, his love bites just on that fine line between pleasure and pain.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He isn’t exactly opposed to the idea, it’s just that your circumstances don’t really allow for them. Between the daily bustle of Kattegat, your respective duties throughout the day and Ivars reluctance to have sex outside the safety of his chambers there aren’t really opportunities for quickies. 
It’s fine by the both of you though, you prefer to take your time anyways, especially the calm and intimacy afterwards is treasured by the both of you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Ivar is ever learning, he’s willing to try most everything you’d approach him with, so long as it doesn’t fall under his hard no’s. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
In the beginning Ivar was insatiable. Once he got you into bed you could expect not to leave it or go to sleep for quite a while. 
That is still the case, though the way you spend your time in bed has changed. The two of you used to go as many rounds as either of you could take until sleep took you.
As your relationship blossomed, it became less about sex itself and more about being intimately connected - whether that be foreplay, sex, or basking in the afterglow of it all. Rounds became fewer, but more drawn out. On the days Ivar seeks comfort, the intimacy of you laying on his chest afterwards, warming his cock, both of you speaking in hushed whispers have become his favorite part.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Since it’s the early 800s … there are no toys. The closest thing would be his daggers, perhaps some rope.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Ivar has no patience to actually tease you in terms of withholding his physical affections. He excels at making your squirm with his verbal teasing though.
You’re circling your hips above him, eyes screwed shut, clearly focused on chasing your release, but slightly overwhelmed by the pleasure all the same. A sudden pressure makes you moan out and look down to where Ivar has placed his hand against the little bulge in your lower stomach. 
"Look at that", he grins, "Look at me all the way inside you. Such a little thing, can barely fit me." A frustrated whine bubbles up in you. Ivars face morphs into one of mock concern, "What’s the matter sweet thing?" "Please..", you whimper. "Please what, hm?" 
When his question goes unanswered, the rock of your hips only growing more frantic, Ivar sits up, the sudden shift of the angle of his cock making you gasp. "Can’t even make yourself cum, is that it? Poor, dumb little thing" A quick, filthy kiss is planted on your lips, and you don’t even have the time to reciprocate before your world spins and you’re suddenly on your back.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
"I don’t growl." Ivar halfheartedly glowers down at you, you grin in return. "Oh, you definitely do."
"I do not."
Your grin grows mischievous, "Mhm, fine. I do suppose it was far more interesting how you whimpered when I li-"
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
You joined Ivar in his bed every single night, following the day you first laid together. After a while your monthly bleeding made its appearance one morning. You thought this would surely put a temporary stop to your shared nights of passion, but Ivar surprised you. 
As soon as you sit down on the edge of the bed you’re ambushed. Giggling you let Ivar lay you down on your back and eagerly welcome him into your arms once he dips down to kiss you.
As always the kiss deepens and your hands wander - yours to his hair, combing your fingers through his silky strands, whilst Ivars hands caress your sides. When his fingers slip under the hem of your dress, you draw back from the kiss and halt his hand on your thigh. Immediately Ivars face furrows and his hand lifts to hold the side of your face. 
"My moon blood started this morning", you answer his unspoken question. Ivars eyes widen and he props himself up on his hands, lifting his hips off of yours. For a second you think he’s disgusted, but your worries disappear as soon as they come. "Oh fuck - am I hurting you, smár brandr?"
Pulling his body down onto yours again, his weight and warmth actually comforting, you shake your head. "No", you reassure him, "I’m just bloody. Some women say release eases their discomfort, but it’s not exactly… appealing to most men."
To your surprise Ivar barks out a laugh. "Some Vikings we have in Kattegat then, hm? Bothered by a little blood." Shaking his head, his hand makes his way under your dress once more.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
To quote TPAW:
"Looking down at what you have just undressed, you are surprised a second time this night. For all the burdens the Gods have made Ivar carry, they sure have blessed him with a gorgeous cock. Its head is flushed a lovely shade of red, and with a length and girth that promises a delicious stretch once inside you, it was simply perfect … and hard - very much so."
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High. That’s all I am going to say. Sometimes the gods can see it all the way from Asgard.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
You’re usually asleep before Ivar is. He very much treasures just laying with you. Tracing shapes on your back, enjoying the warmth of your body next to his and watching your pleased face lowly morph into the relaxed expression he associates with you sleeping.. this is probably the most peaceful time of his day. 
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Please consider commenting or reblogging - it really makes my day!
(*) smár brandr = little blade
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lavender-romancer · 1 year
Note
Could you do one of what ivar the boneless nickname foe his lover/wife would be
Names for Ivars Lover
Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader
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”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜
Fríðr- beautiful
It was the first nickname he ever called you after you'd spent time with one another a few times, the first time he said it under his breath. You had to ask him to repeat it and he rolled his eyes before telling you what he said. Ivar blushed slightly when telling you but he would never admit that.
My Love
After you kissed him the first time he told you he loved you, that he couldn't imagine how life with anyone other than you. It felt like a perfect moment that would never be interrupted even though you both knew that Ivar would be going to England soon enough with his father.
My Queen
When you were married with great difficulty he knelt down with his sword in front of you and called you his Queen, this offer of respect made you so emotional and shocked everyone who was watching. Seeing Ivar the Boneless the cruel and terrible submit to someone was unthinkable to them but you knew Ivar, he adored you.
My Darling
He tearfully looked at you with hands on either side of your face as you held the child you had together in your arms, a healthy baby girl that you both knew you would protect at all cost. Ivar was so tender with both of you, promising to protect you both until his dying breath wherever that may be.
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blakeswritingimagines · 8 months
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Who fell first and who fell harder
Ragnar: You fell first but he fell harder.
Athelstan: He fell first and harder.
Floki: You fell first and harder.
Lagertha: You fell first but she fell harder.
Aslaug: She fell first and harder.
Bjorn: You fell first but he fell harder.
Ubbe: He fell first but you fell harder.
Hvitserk: He fell first and harder.
Sigurd: He fell first but you fell harder.
Ivar: You fell first but he fell harder.
Halfdan: You fell first and harder.
Harald: He fell first and harder.
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miss-madness67 · 8 months
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At Dawn
Ivar The Boneless
Prompt: Homesickness and soft Ivar.
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For the first three months, you cry at night. There is no way to explain it other than the homesickness you feel crawling up your insides. You don’t want to be here, you never asked to be here. Your father had an unfinished debt with King Ragnar, so he gave him the only thing of value he had; you. At first, you were meant to be a thrall in the service of the rulers, but the youngest prince took a liking to you, and considering that your father used to be an Earl, you were deemed acceptable to become his wife. And thus, you married.
“Wife of mine, what troubles you tonight?” Ivar’s soft voice breaks your line of thought. His rough hand trails from your elbow to your shoulder before he turns you around in bed and pulls you to him. You used to wake up with a damp pillow every morning, Ivar would notice every single time. He never mentioned it, but he also never tried to set you free.
Despite the odd beginnings, you’ve come to love your husband, and you like to believe the feeling is mutual. “Same as always, my love.”
He considers your words; you know he doesn’t like when you feel down thinking about the past. “This is your home now, you can have anything you want, you know that, right?”
You do. “I’m just thinking about my family and what they did.” Because as much as Ivar boughtyou, your family sold you.
“You don’t need them anymore, if a family is what you desire…” he hesitates, “I will do my best to give it to you, wife.” You both know the rumor of his incapability is completely mistaken. Still, you’re also aware that Ivar is scared of having children out of fear they will resemble him in disability. The fact that he’s willing to try speaks about his love.
“Truly?” His blue eyes are full of sincerity and insecurity. You want to crush everything that makes him uncertain, like he quells your nightmares.
The first three months you cry at night, but the next three decades you smile at dawn.
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honestsycrets · 1 year
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The Brat | [Ivar the Boneless x Reader]
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❛ pairing | king Ivar x wife!Reader
❛ genre | drabbly bits
❛ summary | he loves the blood, you hate the blood. but you do so love him. maybe he can persuade you.
❛  warnings | mentions of violence, sexual themes, fulfilled request, king!ivar.
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Ivar reeks.
And he loves it. Whether fresh from the battlefield or dealing with insurrections at home, he loves the scent of iron. It embodies his accomplishments, a cruel overcoming of the sort of men who would have mocked him if not for his noble father. They all cried Ragnar when they encountered there could be so-- so much worse. 
He was worse. 
And so, blood-soaked, battle-worn, and revved up-- he looked for his honeysuckle. His sweet honeysuckle who just so happened to detest the scent of blood tacked against his skin. As he pushed apart the flaps of the tent, he spotted your face furrowing. Ah, yes, another fight to be won. 
“Ivar,” you hissed. “Why bother washing in the stream if you are only going to wipe the blood off your eyes?” 
He cackled and brought his bloodied war hammer to scratch the side of his head. Then, moving forward, he dropped his weight on his crutch with every step. “So I can see. The blood blurs my sight, my sweet. And I am but a lowly--” 
“It also reeks.” 
“An unfortunate consequence.” 
You folded your arms. A jingle of foreign bracelets met his ear. It was adorable the way you stood there donned in gold, silks, and furs and made a mockery of the exact thing that enabled him to dress you so richly. Such a brat.
He collapsed on his favorite chair to remove his calibers. You’d surely waste the next day scrubbing out of pure aggravation for his defiance. “Ivar the Boneless,” you threatened. Closer now. His fingers thumped against the blood spattered metal. 
“My name sounds beautiful from your lips.” 
“Have you not had enough fighting for one day? Not enough bodies sent to the gods?” 
“Mm,” he sucked on his teeth. “Never.” 
“Go bathe,” you implored. “I’ll fetch the water myself. You’re making a mess.” 
He drew his tongue along his upper teeth. He knew you hated it when he dragged the rank of the battlefield home. It wore on his skin in a delicious scent of sweat, blood, and fear. Or shit, whatever. His hand came upon his thigh, ringing a loud sound throughout the tent. “Nevermind that. Come sit down.” 
You moved with your hands affixed to your hips. Oh, he knew this game. Your long, flowing gown tickled his dusty boots with the lightest of teases. Yet your face peered into the distance. A tease… as if this repulsive man had no chance to have a delicate princess on his lap. 
“Come here, I said.” His fingers grazed the ties of your dress. He turned his ties in circles around his fingers.
“You’re wet!” Bloody.
“What of it? You act as if these clothes will stay on long.” Moist, bloody, nasty. All the things that he knew you hated to love and loved to hate. Although you bitched now, he knew it would eventually turn with the soft caress of his cheek, caressing the stubble that you so loved. His eyes searched the soft curve of your waist, smoothing up, then down again. You flushed in embarrassment. “Undress.”
“Taking off clothes solves nothing. If I want to love you,” you whispered. His smile gathered wider and wider. “I’ll be loving every other warrior that you’ve slaughtered today.” 
“Don’t excite me.” 
The man was impossible-- his affections, his interactions, unbearable in his very nature. Yet, you loved him for it. The slightest chuckle slipped form his tongue, hissing delightfully as you slid over his thighs while drawing your skirts over your knees. Oh, he already knew he won his fight-- yet again.  
His hands slipped underneath the tumbling fabric and shifted it over his firm arms. Through his thick fabric, you felt his bulge against your trimmed curls. His thumb prodded your lips, smearing dried blood across your nub as he rubbed you with soft, patient thumbs. The care, tinted by his usual feral nature, made you slick. In place of fear, comfort. “See? And you wanted me to go.” 
“Why are you like this? You are so arrogant.”
“And you’re beautifully spoiled.” Ivar settled a kiss upon the pendant beating at your chest. “Is this blood not what provides for this? Or secures your safety?” 
It was. But perhaps that wasn’t something you readily addressed. Rather, your lips pursed in response to his words as your hands curled on his armoured shoulders. He found himself laughing again, and again, and perhaps it was that laughter of your princessly charms that drove Ivar’s excitement. 
“Shhh.” 
He slid away from your sweet spot. As if on cue, you lurched against him, trained as you were. Perhaps you talked a great deal, but when it came to it, you longed for his touch all day. Ivar leaned back in his chair to enjoy the fruits of his efforts.
After a long day, there was nothing so right as the warmth of a beautiful wife to come back to. Your complaints, slight as they were, faded into meer murmurs of submission. At last, he hushed: because per usual-- Ivar always won.
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zapreportsblog · 8 months
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❝the shield maidens challenge❞
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✭ pairing : ivar the boneless x reader
✭ fandom : vikings x reader
✭ summary : (y/n) is a shield maiden known for her unique hunting skills and techniques, ivar the boneless decides to put that to the test
✭ vikings masterlist
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The air was crisp with the promise of winter as (Y/N) stood atop a hill, her gaze fixed on the dense forest that lay before her. Clad in leather armor, her long hair billowed in the wind, and her eyes held an intense focus. She was a shield maiden, known throughout the land for her exceptional hunting skills and unmatched techniques. Many whispered tales of her feats, of her ability to track prey that would evade even the most seasoned of hunters.
It was said that her eyes could discern the faintest traces of movement, her senses attuned to the subtleties of the natural world. The forest had become her domain, and the animals that dwelled within it were her allies, not adversaries.
But today was different. Word had reached her ears of a visitor, a stranger from a distant land. Ivar the Boneless, they called him—a warrior of formidable reputation and cunning mind. (Y/N) had heard the tales of his conquests, the stories of his audacious strategies on the battlefield.
As the forest rustled with life around her, (Y/N) sensed a presence nearby. Ivar emerged from the undergrowth, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that matched her own. He was no ordinary warrior; the aura of power and intelligence that surrounded him was undeniable.
"(Y/N)," Ivar's voice was a low rumble, "I've heard of your skills. I've come to test them."
Her eyebrow arched slightly, curiosity mingling with the thrill of a challenge. "And what would you have me do, Ivar?"
A slow, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips. "Track me. Find me before sunset. Prove that your reputation is not mere boasting."
The challenge was laid before her, and (Y/N)'s heart quickened. This was no ordinary test; Ivar had seen through her facade, recognized the truth behind the legends. With a nod, she accepted his challenge, her eyes narrowing as she began to take in her surroundings.
For hours, (Y/N) traversed the forest, following signs and marks that Ivar had left behind. It was a game of wits, a duel of skill and strategy. With each clue, she felt Ivar's presence drawing nearer, his shadowy figure lurking at the edge of her perception.
As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, (Y/N) sensed that she was closing in. The forest grew quieter, as if holding its breath in anticipation. Her senses honed, she moved silently through the underbrush, her heart pounding in rhythm with her footfalls.
And then, she saw him. Ivar stood at the edge of a clearing, his back to her, his stance relaxed yet alert. He turned slightly, acknowledging her presence with a nod. "(Y/N), you have proven your skill," he said, his tone measured.
She stepped into the clearing, her breath coming steady despite the rush of exhilaration. "And you, Ivar, have proven yourself a worthy adversary."
A grin tugged at the corners of Ivar's mouth, a rare display of satisfaction. "The forest is yours, and your skills unmatched. But I offer you another challenge."
(Y/N)'s eyebrow quirked, her interest piqued. "Speak."
"I am assembling a band of warriors, a fellowship of those who value cunning and strategy as much as strength. Join me, (Y/N). Let your legend grow alongside ours."
Her gaze locked with his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the weight of their unspoken choices.
"I'll consider your offer, Ivar," she finally replied, her voice carrying a promise and a challenge of its own.
And with that, the shield maiden and the cunning warrior stood at the precipice of a new alliance, their destinies intertwined by the threads of skill, strategy, and a shared hunger for greatness.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the clearing where (Y/N) and Ivar stood. The air was pregnant with the weight of their unspoken agreement, the anticipation of what their partnership might bring. Ivar's gaze held a mixture of respect and intrigue, while (Y/N)'s eyes glittered with a fire that matched his own.
As the last rays of sunlight disappeared, (Y/N) took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Your proposal is intriguing, Ivar. A fellowship that values strategy and cunning is a force to be reckoned with."
Ivar nodded, his gaze unyielding. "With your skills and my vision, we could shape the world. Forge a legacy that will be spoken of for generations."
Her lips curled into a half-smile. "But I am not one to be easily swayed, Ivar. Joining your fellowship means abandoning my own pursuits, my own path."
His expression remained unwavering. "You would not be abandoning anything, (Y/N). You would be trading one legend for another."
A gust of wind rustled the leaves overhead, and (Y/N) let his words settle in her mind. She had built her reputation as a solitary shield maiden, unburdened by alliances or loyalties beyond the forest that had raised her. But the offer before her was a tantalizing one, a chance to expand her influence beyond the borders of the wilderness.
"I will give you my answer in due time, Ivar," she finally said, her voice steady. "I require space to consider such a significant shift."
Ivar inclined his head in understanding. "Very well. Take the time you need. But know that when you make your decision, the fellowship of cunning warriors will be waiting."
With a final nod, (Y/N) turned away, the weight of the decision heavy on her shoulders. She retraced her steps through the forest, her thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities and uncertainties. The moon emerged from behind a cloud, casting a silvery glow on the path ahead.
As the night deepened, (Y/N) found herself back at the hill where it had all begun. She looked out over the land she had come to know so well, her heart torn between the familiarity of her solitary life and the allure of a destiny intertwined with Ivar's.
The following days were a time of reflection and contemplation. (Y/N) wandered through the forest, her mind a battleground of conflicting desires. The fellowship offered a chance to leave a mark on the world, to channel her skills into something greater than herself. But it also meant letting go of the independence she had cherished for so long.
Eventually, the decision became clear, like a path illuminated by the first light of dawn. With a sense of purpose, (Y/N) made her way to the designated meeting place where Ivar and his companions waited. She walked into their midst, her presence commanding attention.
"I have made my choice, Ivar," she declared, her voice unwavering. "I will join your fellowship. Together, we will shape the world as we see fit."
A triumphant smile played on Ivar's lips as he extended his hand toward her. "(Y/N), welcome to our ranks. The fellowship of cunning warriors is stronger with you among us."
And so, beneath the moonlit sky, (Y/N) embraced her new path, her destiny intertwined with a fellowship that sought not only conquest but a legacy that would echo through the ages. The shield maiden's journey had taken an unexpected turn, leading her into a future brimming with challenges, alliances, and the promise of greatness.
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multific · 1 year
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Burn the World for You
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Ivar The Boneless x Reader
Summary: When you are taken, Ivan doesn't take it too kindly.
Being Queen of Kattegat came with a price. 
The price was that you were often attacked. People who were trying to take Ivar off of the throne often thought it would be the best way to do so by hurting you.
Since you were his wife.
Ivar absolutely adores you. You are his everything. His little wife.
You have known him since you two were only children. You watched him grow up to be a handsome man, while he watched you become the gorgeous woman you were today.
Your marriage came as no news to anyone.
And now, you were the Queen.
His Queen.
Who was kidnapped by three men. 
You knew better than to struggle against the rope. You knew better than to try and fight them.
They didn't know the wrath of your husband. But they will soon learn.
You were quiet and collected as they dragged you to their camp not too far from your home.
How stupid were they? Even if no one was looking for you, they could find them easily!
Ivar swore he nearly entered Valhalla just by the sight of his bedchambers.
Everything was ruined, your favourite things were thrown everywhere, but most of all, you were gone.
Gone and there was blood on the floor. He sincerely hoped it wasn't yours.
Ivar saw red as he called his brothers and men to go and find you. With an axe in hand, he was also out for blood.
How dare anyone take you from him?! 
You were patient. Even when a knife was held to your neck, you remained stoic.
You let out a deep sigh when finally Hvitserk arrived.
He killed the men and brought you back to your home.
"Where's my wife?!" you heard Ivar yell as he pushed himself through the crowd and into your home. Finally, as the door closed behind him, you walked over to him as he hugged you, he gave a thankful look to his brother who only nodded before he left you two alone.
"I'm fine Ivar. Idiots didn't even have a decent plan..."
"I gave you a knife... where is it?"
"I just finished bathing when they barged in, my knife and axe weren't with me." Ivar nodded, letting out long sighs and taking deep breaths.
"I thought I lost you."
"And I know you would come for me." you cupped his cheeks in your hands. "Even as they were talking about how they will kill me all I could think about was how I knew you would show up at any second and just kill all three of them. And then, your brother showed up. You sent him and he saved me," you placed a kiss on his lips. "No one will take me from you, Ivar. Not even the Gods." he smiled as he pulled you closer.
You knew he was happy to have you back as you could only imagine how angry he was when he realized that you were gone. 
But now, you were back by his side, where you belonged. 
He placed his nose into your neck, taking deep breaths to calm himself and to let his mind and body realise that you were indeed back
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Viking Men Coming Home from a Battle
Pairing: Ivar, Ragnar, Rollo, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Harekr x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, reunion, kissing, cuddles, injuries, bragging, size difference, bruises, Reader being lifted up
A/N: Did I watch the whole show and its sequel just because Bradley James appears in it for 5 episodes? No, of course not! That's be crazy, that'd be... ok yes I did.
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Ivar is already home before you arrive, sitting on the bed and smiling at you. He beckons you closer, pulling you into his lap as soon as you're within his reach. Sweaty as he may be he's not letting you go without giving you a kiss. There needs to be some time that you spend cuddling in his lap before he's ready to let you go, he's missed you, he's missed how you feel, how your soft lips feel on his rough ones. He needs a reminder.
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Ragnar announces his return at the door. He leans against the doorframe and waits for you to run into his loving arms, lifting you up and spinning you around and into a kiss. He takes his time kissing you and running his hands over your body, slowly, paying attention to the way your breath stops and the way you gasp. The house smells nice so he can only assume you've been making food, such a shame because it's about to go cold, he needs to bed his wife first.
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Rollo brags heavily about his victories and battles long into the night while holding you against his chest. He's loud, laughing and very animated as he talks to you but as soon as he's done he goes quiet as he melts into your embrace, needing your touch as much as he needed that rush of a new conquest. As his lover you find the two sides of him complementary, giggling at his soft smile when you brush his hair off his forehead and give him a soft kiss as welcome.
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Ubbe brings you gifts when he comes home, the biggest being his kiss and smile of course but also new rings and necklaces that he's made for you on his way back. He would love to make love to you tonight but he's too tired from battle, so you'll have to settle for him nuzzling his head against your stomach as you run your fingers through his hair, unraveling his braid while he drifts off to sleep, only managing to give you a few sleepy kisses.
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Hvitserk sneaks into the house and embraces you from behind, laughing as you struggle which lets you know that its him. Good thing you realized it because you were just about to kick him between his legs. That'd be painful, plus bad for what he has planned for later. But for now he wants to cup your face and gently press kisses to your cheeks. He's back, and he's not letting you leave his side until he has another battle to go to, he's just missed you so much.
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Harekr can't wait to get you into his bed. He's kissing you the second he walks through the door, his hands running over your body, trying to get your clothes off, trying to eliminate any barriers between your bodies before he carries you to bed and makes your body familiar with his again. After the fun is done he can devote some time to his bruises and injuries, you take priority to those any day. If he is bruised up them you need some too, less severe and panful but visible non the less.
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woahhhgwendolyn · 8 months
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Ivar With His Children Would Include...
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-Ivar would be awesome with his kids. He would be one amazing father to his kids. He is so loving and caring and would also love to do anything for them.
-When he first learns that you are with his child, he becomes really protective over you and also starts thinking about the child that is soon to be born.
-When you are still holding the child, he loves to fantasize about the child and what he or she would be like when they are older.
-He not only talks about the child with you, but he loves to brag to the rest of his family that he is having a child with you and how amazing you are because you are carrying the child.
-When the child is born, he thinks a bit differently now than he had before. He has become more mature and acts more like an adult.
-When the child is older like 8 Ivar would love to play with them and teach them how to fight. That is his favorite things to do with his children, play and fight.
-He has no intention on having weak kids. He does not want his children to be weak minded and to be gullible. So, he often teaches his children good ways to make sure they are not this way.
-When he has free time, he loves to also take his children on rides and teach them about the gods and the history behind their village and the great stories of their amazing grandpa Ragnar Lothbrok.
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at1nys-blog · 4 months
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His own Valkyrja
Pairing: fem!Doctor!reader x Hvitserk Ragnarsson
Summary: Valkyrje. They come from the sky to take to Valhalla the warrior that feel in battle but Hvitserk Ragnarsson has his own, very different version of a Valkyrja
A/N: This came to mind while watching Doctor who specials on DIsney+ and I wanted to write a ff for the series since I am back at watching it but I dind't want reader to be the companion so I inverted the roles and made a crossover with my favourite historical Tv Show. Also the TARDIS is referred as she because I felt like doing so.
A/N pt.2: There are a couple of words in Old Norse like já that means yes and Valkyrja/Valkyrje, Old Norse for Valkyria/Valkyrie
The song is in danish/old norse so here a transation of the song
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It was a simple day in Kattegat, nothing special was going on, not during winter. During the snowy season there were just talks, talks about what was the best curse of actions to take in the spring. Were they going to plunder back a new Saxon’s city or were they going to discover and plunder a complete new city? This was something only the spring and summer could tell.
The winter wind was blowing, hard and consistent, like an old friend that wants to catch up. Everyone wearing thick coats to protect themselves from the cold weather and in the crowded market of the city, one of the sons of Ragnar was walking around.
The prince, the man or whatever you want to call him, didn’t had a place to be, nor he was really interested in what people sold in their lonely stools. He just needed time for himself, away from his brothers, his mother and the lords who tried their everything to become friends with him.
Walking around the city, head up to the clouds, Hvitserk Ragnarsson didn’t notice when he walked outside the city’s walls. It was when he was at the forest’s door that he was brought back to reality.
Looking behind him, he couldn’t see the city, nor hear the chattering of the market anymore. It was just him, a snowy and grey landscape. His mind wondered if he had to go back, but then he decided to stay out a little bit longer. He knew that if anyone needed him, they were going to send someone to find him.
The landscape was snowy and grey and silent. Too much silence was keeping company to the warrior, he started singing. Sure, between his brothers he knew Sigurd was the most artistic one. He was the one with a nice voice and gentle touch and the one with the mind filled with honey like words, but Hvitserk, he was pretty sure he came in good second.
The song was one that his mother's maiden used to sing to him and the rest of the Ragnarssons, it was about Ymir and was rather short but his favourite nontheless.
The forest too was silent. The trees' leaves weren't rustling; birds did not chirp on top of his singing voice and no animals dared to make a noise. It was like the wild that populated that place was admiring his voice.
Hvitserk performance got interrupted by a leaves rustling, as if someone moved them aside to not trip or to get hurt. The prince tried to find the source of the noise, ready to fight it was from a foe-man or an ally. Some seconds later he saw her, a female figure walking directed straight to north.
Hvitserk was able to get a glance of her, taking him just a couple of details: she couldn't be taller than him, maybe some centimeters shorter, from his standing point he couldn't say for sure; her hair were messy and up in a simple braid. He decided to follow her, from a distance to not scare her away and to be in control in case she was enemy to him and his kingdom.
Hvitserk Ragnarsson notice her choice of style was weird, nothing he had saw before. The coat was too long, coming down on her ankles; her feet covered in a colorful pair of...
"What are those called?" he asked, curios and getting the girl's attention. She turned back in an instant, and she had to close her eyes a little if she didn't want to faint there in front of him. The viking approached her carefully, slow in his step and stepping back every now and then.
"What... what are you talking about?" she spoke his language, if that was the case maybe she wasn't an enemy. He pointed at her feet, asking once more what those things were. Looking down, the unfamiliar presence kept silence for some seconds. "Those are called sneakers but you won't need to learn the name, don't worry." was her answer.
"Sneakers." he repetead on and on, as to grab the essence of the word, as if he was trying to taste the word she just spoke.
"I was trying to search for some more historically appropriate footwear but my space ship had a problem and it dropped in the middle of the forest. You know where I can find a river or a lake? I really need some water right about now." Even though Hvitserk could understand what she was saying he couldn't understand what she was talking about, she had dropped a word he had no idea what it meant, it wasn't in his native language. The stranger could tell he was confused. "right, you don't know what space ship means. Again nothing to worry about or for you to keep in mind."
"You say I don't have to worry about a lot of things and still haven't told me your name. I am prince Hviterser son of king Ragnar and Queen Aslaugh." he introduced himself. The figure smiled.
"You are right, how rude of me to not introduce myself. I am The Doctor, but not the doctor you are thinking. I can't cure people." the more this so called Doctor spoke, the more Hvitserk's mind was in a state of confusion, what was she talking about?
"Then what do you cure?" a smirk appeared on her face and the prince was warry of that, was it a good or bad sign? She streatched out her hand tilting her head on the side, it was a clear invitation to take her hand and follow wherever she was goint to. It took him a quick minute to decide to trust her, if she was there to kill him she should have tried already. Not that he thought she could do it, but he felt like she wasn't as weak as she seemed.
"you have nice skin." he commented with a small smile pictured on his features. It hadn't been a long time since he had touched a woman but her skin felt different, it made him feel different.
"I think I've heard someone singing, was it you?" the viking man answered with a quick já that he was sure she understood. "You have a nice voice. Can you sing me a song? If you don't mind, of course." Hvitserk started to sing, a different and longer song than the one he had sung previously to meet her, with a calmer tune. This one talked about a love story between a Valkyrja and a brave warrior.
Hvitersk kept his eyes on the Doctor, thinking that she resembled a Valkyrie. Just like the divine creature, she had come from the sky, sure in a ship made for the space, but still from the sky. He felt like she had found him, maybe he was dreaming and it was all in his head. He thought, for a moment, that she came into his dreams to foresee his imminent death.
He didn't notice her halting in her steps, bumping into her. Hvitserk apologized and she realized something was wrong with the TARDIS' translation circuit because she couldn't understand what he had told her, pretty much he had apologized but still, the word didn't register in her mind.
The language, the one she knew as Old Norse, sounded like an old song. She loved it, and it made it at the top of her list of favourite language--something her ninth version started--alongside Ancient North Martian and Sittuun.
She looked left and right, as to remember which way to go, where did the TARDIS landed? East or West? Hvitserk noticed she never let go of his hand, not even when she had trouble keeping her balance. Her hand still in his.
They walked some more and the prince kept on singing, he performed three songs since she had asked the first time, and he was about to sing a fourth one when she let go of his hand. Hvitserk felt the cold wind now, his hand felt the cold weather and if she didn't rushed towards a blue box he would have kept his hand in hers. He liked it.
He kept his eyes on her, walking inside and he waited a little bit. For what he didn't know but he felt it wasn't right to get inside without an invite. She came out some minutes later, asking him why he was staying outside.
"I didn't think I could..."
"Nonsense, come on. I want to show you something." and back inside she went. He followed her, slowly. He had the idea it was an ambush, he had to be carefull. "I'm down here" she said when he opened the door. His eyes couldn't believe what he had in front of him. He walked outside, went around the blue box and then back inside. "I know she is..."
"Smaller inside." he comented. His choice of words triggered her, he saw it. She stiffened, just for a second and he was about to ask if she was doing fine but she didn't gave him the time to ask. "You remind me of a friend I've lost." he was about to give her his condolecence but once again she didn't let him talk, it was like she could read his mind. "Is okay, I'm used to that but here. Come."
Hvitserk approached her, and once again The Doctor took his hand and walked him in front of a square object, with colorful moving drawings.
"What is this?" he asked looking at her.
"This, my dear Hvitserk Ragnarsson is what is hidden behind the sky. Do you want to aknowledge what there is outside of this world?" he noticed her eyes were blinking, like all the starts decided to move into her eyes. She looked etheral, out of this world, just like her blue box.
He agreed, why not? He had nothing to do, nothing to loose so he decided to follow her. He would have followed her no matter what and he was fine with it. He had found his Valkyrja.
He walked around the weird looking piece of metal, studying carefully everything. There were letters he couldn't name but at the same time shapes and colors he had seen both in Kattegat and in his travels over the icy seas; there were objects, like mirrors but they never reflected his face but people he had never met. He was fascinated and confused at the same time.
An earthquake shook up the little blue box and he lost balance for a second, finding support on one of the weird object that were surronding the space inside the box. Hvitserk heard her giggle, for a second and then she was back working on whatever there was in the deepths of that box.
"Doctor, so what exactly did you wanted to show me?" he asked still looking around. Everytime he turned he noticed something new and he was curious to find out what it was.
"I wanted to show you..." her head appearing from somewhere below him. "Something amazing, but I need to fix my ship" she commented.
"This doesn't look like a ship at all." he retored and once again he tried to fullfill his curiosity about what she had called a ship.
"Not in the sense of what you are familiar, no is not, but is a different type of ship." she answered back. "is a ship that sails through time and space" she tried to use words he could understand and even if he did know what sail meant, I mean he did that every spring and summer, he couldn't wrap his head around how a thing could sail through time and space. "this ship can go whenever on this Earth and in every time you want: back in the past, or foward in the future."
The future, he wanted to see what the future had in store for him and his brothers. Were they going to realise all their dreams? Were they going to rise the name of their father to fame? Was he going to have a happy life with a good wife and amazing kids?
"Can we go the future? Not that far into that, just a couple of years." he asked, this time is full attention on his Valkyrja. She smiled. A nice and warm smile.
"Sadly the TARDIS doesn't work like that. Is like she gives me a mission everytime I set her gears on. She sents me when I am needed." another word he couldn't understand but he remember what she had told him before do not worry, and he did not.
"So you are needed here?"
"Not really. My ship needs some time to fix herself. I think she decided the safest place to land was in..."
"Kattegat, 818 AD." he stated. She repeated his words. "Why here?" he asked. Kattegat wasn't the safest option, he knew that. Not when the city feared invasions from basically everyone.
"I might know a lot but this is something I can't tell. Maybe this old lady..." prince Hvitserk followed her every move while she was speaking. "...planned our meeting." she joked, laughing at it. But Hvitersker was pretty sure Urd, Verdandi and Skuld had worked their web to let the two of them. The warrior made a note to himself to leave some offerring to the Norns to thank them for this opportunity. "Now, would you mind show me around?"
He didn’t mind, the more Hvitserk Ragnarsson was alongside her, the happier he was.
Roaming around the market’s stalls it was his time to feed her curiosity. Every question she asked he had the answer, well most of the times.
Everything was going on pretty good until his older brother, Ubbe, whistled to get his attention, he really wanted to run back in the forest to avoid uncomfortable questions from him and the younger of the Ragnarssons.
“Ubbe.” He simply said asking with his eyes to not say anything inappropriate. “Ivar.” He added turning to the the younger of the four brothers.
“Who is she?” Asked the older viking. He took her hand in his and gave it a quick peck—he had learned this during a trip in Wessex—making the Doctor giggle.
“Such a gentleman Ubbe Ragnarsson.”
“Thank you my lady.” Was his throw back(?)
After a quick introduction, whit Hvitserk lying about her name being Brynild like one of the Valkyrje, Ivar invited her to have dinner with them so the two of them and their mother could know more about Hvitserk’s new friend.
“I see if I can attend dinner with your family but I won’t promise anything. But thank you for the invite Prince Ivar.” The title feeded his ego more than enough, the younger prince was happy and limped back from where he came with a soft thank you; Ubbe rolled his eyes and after another act of cavalry he followed in tow his brother.
“I’m sorry for them.” Apologized the second born.
“Is okay. I think the TARDIS is ready. Do you want to live an adventure outside the ordinary?” The viking wanted to tell her that just meeting her was out of the ordinary, sure in a positive way, but still out of this world situation.
“Lead the way, my lady.” And with that they went back into the forest, hand in hand. Hvitserk asking more questions and the Gallifreyan never saying a word.
Hvitserk woke up with a strong head pain, memory of what he thought a dream flooding his mind. He pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve a little the pain he was feeling, not noticing his brothers, Ubbe and Björn were looking for him.
"Here you are. Queen Aslaugh wants you home." started Björn and without giving him the time to get up he left for Kattegat on his own. Ubbe, on the other side, took a seat next to his brother and with a smirk on his face asked him if he had fun all that time he was missing.
Hvitserk had to lie, nodding his head yes. He didn't know how to explain that he didn't know where she went, and what happened between the two of them, he thought saying they had some private time together was easier.
"How was she? Do you think I can have her one day?"
"I don't think. She told me she found Kattegat by accident" that was not a lie, well not completely. "and besides she has to take care of her family so I don't think she has much free time."
"What a shame. Well, at least you managed to get her. But do tell, was she good?" That was the only thing Ubbe cared to know, then again is about a viking man we are talking about.
Hvisterk rolled his eyes and smacked his brother to his chest, a way to ask him to shut up and that he wasn't going to give him details about it.
Weeks passed and Hvitserk had made it a routine to check the market from the main door of the Great Hall. Watching carefully to see if she was coming back anytime soon.
Then months passed and he realized she was not coming back to Kattegat, he needed to move on. But then it came one day, one beautiful spring day where he saw her, or so he thought, because that woman in the market looking for a pin to use for her hair looked almost ideantical to his Valkyrja. What was more astonoshing was the fact she had fall in love with the prince. Hvitserk decided to take it as a sign from the Gods and after a couple of weeks they got married.
Spending nights together, it was not a surprise to hear his wife giving him the news she was with child and Hvitserk was the happiest to hear it. He had told his brothers first. Björn patted his back, proud of him; Ubbe smirked and laughed at his own words when he said that the little brother had been working hard and Ivar just smiled, happy for his older brother. Then when his mother found out, she decided to throw a party, all Kattegat was welcomed to celebrate the news.
Nine months later, or so, Hvitserk's daughter was born. A beautiful and healty baby girl. Hvitserk looked at her with stars in his eyes, she was going to be his first priority from now on.
"How do you want to call her?" asked one of the women that helped his wife deliver the little girl.
"Brynhildr" he said without esitation. The couple didn't talked about the name but that sounded a good fit for the girl. "I like Brynhildr." he added. He started cooing at his daughter, making her giggle and wrapping her little hand on his big pinky.
"She loves you already." said his wife, a weak giggle leaving her lips. "She is going to be a daddy's girl. Boys will be terrified to ask for her hand" she joked.
"She is going to grow into a fine woman." he commented and gave it back to the one who gave her to him, so that the new addiction to the family could spend time with her mother.
Hvitserk left the little house, taking in the cold weather of the winter season, looking up to the sky he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.
"I might not see you again, my Valkyrja, but the memory will be always be with until my very end." Was it then, that his brothers came to take him out to drink. He just had a daughter, it was a good enought reason to celebrate.
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sigridsdottir · 1 year
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Reflecting, on him & I [ubbe fic]
Ubbe's wife watches him from the window, playing with their children. She cannot help but reflect on what he means to her.
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I admired Ubbe. 
I watched his braid dance in the air as he played with our children in the sand. The sun shining, a gentle zephyr, calm sea. 
When I gave birth, crying out in ancient female pain, he was there. And when the midwife pulled out our baby to reveal a daughter, his eyes glistened with tears. Tears of joy. 
And the same with our son. 
He took pride in them, and spent the days teaching them things. How to find the fullest berry bush in the woods, how to carve the sharpest arrows, how to sing Nordic songs. But he worried for them, too. He feared the day of our son’s first raid. He feared that men would covet our daughter.
These are the things he would tell me before we slept at night. We laid together each night, and I traced his cheekbones, like knives, lit by moonlight. He held me closely to him, his arms unyielding but delicate.
I was drawn to him when I was young. He was Prince, and I was invisible. I feared that I would remain so forever. 
Until one day. I was carrying a bucket of water, on top of my head, when I tripped. It came crashing down, turning the dirt to mud and soaking my dress. Hot tears of frustration rushed to my eyes. But before I could weep-
“Do you need help?” A voice asked.
He stood there in front of me. Blue eyes staring into mine, quizzically. 
After a beat, he nodded to himself. “I’ll get you water.” 
What… the fuck… is happening? 
He picked the bucket from the fresh mud and headed off. 
Nearly every day after that, he appeared. Flowers in a bundle on my doorstep. Wolf skins, for warmth. Skeins of the softest yarn. A teasing flirt. A thoughtful conversation. A kiss.
Eventually, we married. All the sudden, I was the most visible woman in Kattegat. And these moments, at the end of our days, when we lay alone together, became precious.
I stare into his oceanic eyes, stormy as seas, clear as skies. I smell his scent, wild like the woods. I touch his face, scarred skin soothing at my caress. I feel his body pressed against mine, his heat welcome in the winter. His rough palms lay on my stomach, where I have held his children. His soft lips kiss my cheek and his beard tickles my neck. He whispers things in my ear. That he loves me, that the gods made me with him in mind.
I admire Ubbe for he is good and kind, but he does not bend to the will of any man. I must be favored by some god, for Ubbe is the man who rocks me in his arms, night after night.
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