#ivarr can be romantic

[alexisp787]

I've been working on this Ivarr X Fem Reader story and struggling to finish it 😩 What started as a quick 1K smut story turned into 5K PWP! Here's a snapshot of one of the scenes, let me know what you think 🙏

Quick backstory…The Fem Reader (You) is part of the Ravenclan and Ivarr sporadically visits the settlement. You have little interactions with him but you've been pining for him since you first met him. During one of Ivarr's rare visits you finally get some "quality alone time" together… in a cabin in the woods 😉.

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"Is this where you come to take naps and sneak away from work during the day?" Ivarr teases.

You laugh and say "of course". Though everyone knows you're one of the most hardworking people in Ravensthorpe, you do disappear now and then to spend your free time here alone.

As you light a few candles, Ivarr slumps into the center of the small bed.

"Are you going to join me?" His voice is soft but hungry.

You blush and drop down to sit by him on the edge of the bed.

"Will you shift over or will I have to smother you instead?" You push most of your weight onto your hand into the center of Ivarr's chest. Trying to come off as intimidating but your voice is unsteady.

Ivarr, with both of his hands underneath his head, elbows up, legs stretched out and feet crossed, looking comfortable and smug. He makes no indication of moving, he grins and tilts his chin up at you, challenging you to be true to your threat.

You slowly drape your body over Ivarr's, movements unsure and a little clumsy. You are bashful and unsure how to proceed. You have not had a ton of experience in these matters, waiting for Ivarr to take the lead. But he is in no hurry, seemingly to enjoy your discomfort and embarrassment.

The wind outside picks up and blows into the old flimsy cabin, you snuggle deeper into Ivarr's neck and arms.

"Get up." Ivarr commands. Confused, thinking he is tired of you, but you do as you're told.

Ivarr pulls off his tunic, and gestures for you to get back to where you were.

You return this time against his bare chest as he wraps his shirt and arms around you. Though there are spare blankets nearby, you don't mention them but appreciate his warm and exposed skin against your face and hands.

You breathe in his scent. Underneath the smells of firewood, leather and horses, you can make out his distinct musk on his neck, it makes you feel safe but it also drives you mad… You can't get enough of it, once you catch yourself almost panting, self-conscious, you momentarily hold your breath. A smirk plays across Ivarr's lips, he knows the effect he is having on you.

You softly trace your fingers and hands over the scars and tattoos on his shoulder and chest, trying to commit them to memory. All the little details like lines on his neck, the direction in which his dark hairs grow, because soon after this he will sail off with no promise of return.

"Got anything as ghastly as mine?" He breaks into stories on some of his scars and tries to keep them from being too gory. You tell him about the time you went swimming as a child and scraped your left collar bone across a tree branch. He chuckles and tells you you're precious.

"Show me."

You loosen the lacing of your collar to expose your shoulder, probably a little lower than needed, giving Ivarr a generous view of a poorly concealed breast.

"Hmmm, I don't see it but if you say it's there…"

He leans up slightly and kisses your small scar.

Then he looks back at you with those intense grey blue eyes, you blush and look down between your bodies. When you regain yourself, you look back at him and stroke his face along his scar softly.

"How did you get this one?"

His expression darkens, and you immediately regret your question.

"Maybe another time, ya?" He says gently, almost a whisper.

You nod and place a kiss on the center of his forehead, lips tracing along his scar, grazing over his left eye, your lips settle with another kiss on his cheek and trail down further. You plant the last kiss over the long scar next to his mouth and linger there a little longer than the other kisses. You feel the corners of his lips start to twitch against your mouth...

"So, this was your plan all along huh? Lure me out into the woods on the false pretense of a hunt so you can have your way with me?"

You don't reply, you can no longer think clearly, your body already grinding against his, breathlessly and begging incoherently.

''Get on with it then…" he hisses.

Your lips clash hungrily, a low growl escapes his throat as a whimper escapes yours. Ivarr sucks and bites down on your bottom lip before entering your mouth with his hot tongue. Your hands cupping his face while his hands are exploring your body, skillfully undoing the lacings and wraps. You feel his rough and calloused hands against your bare skin. Ivarr shifts to his side, flips you onto your back in a fluid motion. Pinning you down with his body, lips never breaking contact…

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Let me know if you want to read more ☺️

[author-morgan]

can we have some random headcanons for Ivarr? 🥺👀

of course. ♥️ always willing to write for my stinky bastard man. here are a few headcanons i have for him. :)

In the weeks after his face healed, Ivarr was very particular about his scar. He tried to hide it —always having part of his hair covering his face, so others would not see the mark of shame on the Son of Ragnar. He also doesn’t let anyone touch it either. If Ivarr allows you to cup his scarred cheek or trace over the scar (or any of his scars), know you’re very special to him, and he trusts you enough to let his guard down and show a pinch of vulnerability. Don’t expect it to last long, though. He’s always quick to put his walls up again.

He’s a wild sleeper until he finds the right position, then he clocks out —hard. More often than naught, he ends up on his stomach, sprawled out, and instead of using a pillow, he uses his bent arm. He snores too, not very loudly, though —he’s the type to deny it too. Me? Snore? I do not. If you’re sharing a bed, he’s no better at being a considerate bedmate, and more often than naught, you just have to accept that he’s going to end up on top of you one way or another —being a human pillow isn’t so bad, though.

Love isn’t really in Ivarr’s vocabulary —as in you’ll probably never hear the words, I love you, fall from his lips no matter how many times you may tell him you love him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, though. He just has a very unique, very Ivarr, way of showing it. It’s laced in how he compliments your fighting while training or in battle, or him being a smidge gentler when tending to wounds, or the smiles exchanged when interrogating a prisoner or spy. Perhaps one of the most romantic gestures from Ivarr is when he surprised you with the severed head of the bumbling fool you were meant to marry. He might not say it, but he shows it —actions mean more than words anyway— and no one in Midgard would dare come between the two of you.

Ivarr hates baths with a passion. He doesn’t see why it's such a bad thing that he should wear the blood of enemies as a trophy, even days after a battle, or why it matters if he smells like shit. He’s a warrior. A man. He shouldn’t smell like roses. For the most part, you let him be, but on occasion, it gets to the point where you’re tempted to dump a bucket of water on him while he sleeps. If you ask sweetly enough, you can trick him into going for a 'swim' in the river or a nearby lake. It’s only after he’s already in the water with you scrubbing his hair that he realizes he’s fallen for your scheme, again.

[ taglist: @elizabethroestone @kitkitvm @elluvians @fullmoonwolfer1 @ghostieisalone @boodaga @southsideslutt @dynamite-with-a-lazerbeam @lizlovecraft @heathensith @alexisp787 @nobodyydobon @certifiedlittleshit @sonnefuchs @kat–00 ] if your name is italicized, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you. if you want to be added to my taglist for Ivarr, just let me know in the replies or a DM!

[camdentown-library]

Ivarr Ragnarsson || NSFW headcanons

( GIF by  ugh-my-back  )

𝕺𝖍, 𝖆 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖋𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖔��𝖋 𝖆 𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖋, 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖎𝖙 𝖇𝖊?

Requested? Would you up to write some spicy NSfW headcanons for out good boy Ivarr with your godly writing skills? 🤔 -anon Omg I love the nsfw hc with Sigurd❤ But now I think about nsfw hc with Ivarr😏 -anon

Well well, let's start well.

Ivarr Ragnarsson, a fierce man and certainly not remembered for his romanticism.

Let's say that as far as the romantic sphere is concerned, this drengr is really bad in this matter. Love? He? Eww no thanks, next offer.

If there is only one way to emotionally bond with Ivarr, the options are minimal: either you are battlemates, or you have sex.

Ivarr is not a man who likes to go around things, if he likes you and he is aware that you both enjoy each other's presence, he will have no problem telling you crudely about having sex.

Like: "Forget these ballless drengr, Y/N. Let's go have a good fuck in my tent."

Or: "If you hear a scream in the distance in the forest it is I who take Y/N against a log"

Ivarr would be very proud of his adventures under the sheets. And he doesn't care if you get embarrassed during those speeches.

"Ah you had to see her, a fucking Valkyrie riding me like I was a mad stallion, all out of your reach Eivor"

Ivarr would immediately make it clear that between you and him there is nothing romantic that binds you, except your physical appearance ...

BUT, when he sees you talking to other men or women he immediately becomes jealous and would become very unfriendly and threatening.

But let's get to the core of this speech: WHAT DOES IVARR LIKE?

Ivarr does not seem to mind the opinion of others, especially if this involves scandalizing poor Christian passers-by or Ceolbert, LMAO.

Any and I mean any place can be suitable for a fuck.

Whether it's a cave, a hill, by a lake, in an abandoned castle, it's okay for Ivarr to be approved.

Speaking of places, Ivarr to a dirty little secret about one in particular: The Christian Church.

Take you from behind on a church altar and outrage their precious and sacred holy God is the most aphrodisiac thing on Ivarr's mind.

Speaking of aphrodisiacs, Ivarr loves your body and loves branding it.

And I'm not talking about poor suckers ... pffft jeez open your mind.

Making your buttocks red and livid from slaps.

Fill your feel, your belly, your hips with bites.

Leave on your back full of scratches.

Better for you to support the pain otherwise with Ivarr you will not get very far.

Ivarr also seems to love to upset people and therefore in my opinion this man is full of kink.

Knife play: 100% sure, I could bet a hand knowing I was right.

Bdsm: I think he would love to tie you up and even blindfold you sometimes, torture you with slow and grueling foreplays and then fuck you when your body is exhausted and unable to react.

His pace would always be fast and rough, Ivarr loves hearing you scream, he loves taking you to physical limits, he loves having sex with you even without foreplay ... in short, there must always be a hint of pain in that theater of pleasure.

Something he doesn't like? Don't dominate it, don't do it I mean it ... I mean it for your health and for your life LMAO this guy is as crazy as a top

Another thing he doesn't like is sharing, don't ask him to have a threesome, rest assured that the third wheel will soon meet Hel's doors.

[assassinscreed-photomode]

Break down Ivarr pls. I love how they wrote him so much and I'd love to have your take on him 🖤🖤

Thank you for the ask!

Ok ok, I put off doing this one, my feelings on Ivarr are complicated and kinda sad.

IVARR

-SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T DONE SHROPSHIRE LOOK AWAY NOW-

Also, this is going to be LONG i have

THOUGHTS.

How I feel about this character At first I thought he was gross lmao. I was so caught up with the graphic scene in the church when we first met that I completely missed the part where he explained that those people were spies etc. But after that drinking scene something changed.

When he was talking away I found myself seeing many similarities between him and Eivor. Or my Eivor at least because I know we all play them a little different. Both scrappy younger siblings of these strong confident (and tall af) well loved leaders. Both a bit different from the classic viking ideal of a warrior. Both are seen as a little strange. Both a little bit unsure of what the hell they were doing there or why they followed their brothers so loyally. 

My brain decided (against my will) that he was my new fave, as quickly as turning on a light.

So when he went off the deep end in Shropshire, I was heartbroken. ( and was instantly reminded of my first devastating betrayal in viddy games SOLAS FROM DRAGON AGE, which messed me UP, same feelings arose ). I really thought his story was indicating a different direction and was blind to the red flags. 

It was terrible to see someone that you see your own reflection in spiral down like that. To not be able to coax them back down from the edge, to help someone you see yourself in. Watch them destroy themselves in front of you. It's such a disaster.

To not be able to help them see that there is more to life than the endless battle and bloodshed. To fail. 

I thought about him in that final scene with Odin, when Odin asked what more Eivor wants, what more does she want apart from glory and battle etc and she said “everything else”. That hit me hard.

I feel like his character was not a lost cause from the moment he was born, that could have been him but it wasn’t and that's what makes it so sad for me, for Eivor.

Ivarr felt like a character that reflected what Eivor could have become if she was too far gone and wasn’t able to step back and see what else was there. Wasn’t able to see that value in being alive for the sake of it.

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[side note! When I went to uni I studied art. (stay with me lol) and the one thing I looked at was people who make art about the day to day mundane aspect of living and the value of everyday life. So people who collect data on weeds growing in the concrete outside their house or people who fall in love with all the little details in their tacky washed out motel room and make photo series about it. Loving the tiny little aspects of life holds great value to me and I find it sad when I meet people, or find characters who can’t see the joy in it. 

Characters who want to only muddy a battlefield but do not stare in wonder and love when grass and wildflowers grow back on said battlefield after so much destruction are characters that have so much potential for growth. When I find characters like that, like Ivarr I can’t help thinking that if I can show them that from the dirt a flower must grow, I can help them. They might be happier.] -

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How do I feel about the character?  Sad. Sad and Angry that we weren’t able to pull him back from the edge of his own destruction. 

I’m not sure if he was written well as a tragedy or if I’m mad at the writers for not allowing him to be a more three dimensional character.

All the people I ship romantically with this character Well, after the drinking scene I hardcore shipped him with Eivor. I mean they basically have the same name! With the similarities between them that was honestly where I thought it was heading. But of course it headed in the opposite direction. 

So maybe in an AU where Ivarr was not so close to the edge, where he was able to take a step back from his own obsessions, not kill Coelbert and fight us, then that’s where I’d ship him.

My non-romantic OTP for this character I loved that he seemed to be very particular about whome he surrounds himself with and does not consider someone a friend easily. I like that Ubba seemed to know this and know him very well. I’d like to see more of him and Ubba. Coelbert too of course.

My unpopular opinion about this character Gods what can I say here that hasn’t already been said. I think he’s weirdly attractive? One side of me wishes we could romance him, but the other side was glad we couldn’t see where his story went. I wish Eivor was able to pull him back from the edge, but that’s already been said.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. Therapy? Seriously, he clearly had a lot going on. His fixation on Rhodri and what Rhodri did to him made him into the worst version of himself while Shropshire. Blinded him to everything else.

I wish we could have helped him back from the edge, I wish he hadn’t killed Coelbert and tried to kill us. I wish we were able to show him there is some value in life outside of the battlefield. I wish we could have helped each other. I wish he hadn’t died.

I wanted him for my longboat, if he hadn’t you know, died horribly.

GIVE ME A CHARACTER and I’ll break their ass down

[author-morgan]

Hiii! Would you write some fluff with Ivarr, maybe he's courting someone and gives flower to his crush secretly because he is a drengr and don't want to admit to feel things but do it anyway? The first about Ivarr was so touching! I loved it so so much!

I’m so happy to hear you enjoyed my first Ivarr story, and I hope you’ll enjoy this one as well! ♥ Ivarr the Boneless x fem!Reader

HE SMILES, WIPING the blood from his axe on a piece of wool taken from a dead Saxon when a glimpse of blue catches his attention. Ivarr’s smile widens as he looks at the patches of blue flowers dotting the battlefield —cornflowers. Kneeling, he gathers the stems into a small bundle, shearing them from the earth with his axe. Inwardly, he scoffs at himself for picking wildflowers after a battle when he should already have a cup of mead in hand, but Ivarr knows it’ll be worth it if it means seeing his ladylove smile. 

Ivarr waves the young Mercian ætheling to him. Ceolbert fought bravely, having learned to wield his two-handed greatsword. Naming the son of Ceolwulf as a ward of Ivarr the Boneless was simultaneously the wisest and most careless decision Ubba Ragnarsson had ever made. “I need your help with something, twig,” he says, gripping onto the boy’s shoulder.  Ivarr has come to think of Ceolbert as a son since they've trekked over the hills of Mercia.

“Flowers?” Ceolbert inquires, eyeing the blue bouquet. “Ivarr, I didn’t think you were a romantic.” His teasing tone and smile earn him a sharp glare, but Ivarr asks if he will deliver them to his ladylove. He doesn’t wish to be seen carrying around flowers. Ivarr the Boneless has a reputation to maintain, after all. Ceolbert is surprised upon hearing your name pass through the Dane’s scarred lips —he hadn’t expected Ivarr to fancy a farmer and baker of all people. “Why not deliver them yourself?” He asks, taking the small bouquet. 

The question is answered with a scoff and a haphazard wave of an axe. “I am a drengr,” Ivarr says —as though anyone could ever forget— using his warrior title as an excuse to avoid confronting the feelings lurking deep in his heart. “I won’t let Ubba catch me hauling around wildflowers either.” Ceolbert almost laughs, a smile twisting his lips. “He’d have my balls on a platter.” Ivarr ridiculed Ubba for wanting to marry and settle down, but that was before he met you. The king’s son sets off, promising to deliver the flowers. 

CEOLBERT KNOCKS ON the doorframe then steps back as he hears the shuffling of feet and crates from the other side. He looks down at the arrangement of wildflowers —cornflowers and bluebells. You open the door, smiling when you see the young ætheling on your doorstep. 

Hastily, Ceolbert sticks out the wildflowers for you to take, his cheeks turning a bright red. The blue blooms are your favorite in the English countryside, and aside from your late mother, only one other knows of your affinity for cornflowers and bluebells. “Thank you, Ceolbert,” you tell him, taking the bouquet. “Would you like to come in?” You ask, stepping back from the doorway. The heavy scent of sweetness and spice tickle his nose as he steps inside. Small confections cover the table. “I just finished making honey cakes.”

He will not say who the flowers are from, though you already know, and for his trouble, you give him a honey cake —still warm and topped with toasted hazelnuts and dripping with freshly harvested honey. “Are these for the celebration tonight?” Ceolbert asks —the time had come to thank the gods for a bountiful midsummer harvest and feast. You nod, glad the boy had gotten one of the sweets before they vanished. 

Rising from the stool, Ceolbert thanks you for the honey cake and excuses himself to prepare for the night’s festivities. “Ceolbert,” you call, stopping him before he opens the door to your small home. He looks back, seeing the smirk kink your lips and the knowing glint in your eyes. “Tell Ivarr he better be there.”

PARTING FROM THE conversation with several farmers, you turn to the barrel of mead and dip two cups into the fresh batch before joining Ivarr. He sits by his lonesome, watching the merrymaking over an empty plate and cup. You sit next to him, setting the mead in from of him, taking a long drink from your cup. Ivarr spares a glance at you, his scarred lips twisting into a surprisingly soft smile —both Ubba and Ceolbert notice across the feast hall. “A woman who knows the way to my heart and stomach,” he muses. Given half the chance, he’d be as rotund as Halfdan if he could eat honey cakes every day. 

“Ivarr–” you lay your hand over his on the table, catching him by surprise. “Thank you for the flowers.” He turns his full attention to you, looking as though you’ve accused him of some heinous crime. “I know it’s you.” Ivarr the Boneless would not be able to wiggle himself out of confronting what he felt tonight. It wasn’t just the flowers from Ceolbert you were thanking him for, but the ones you often found lying on your doorstep early in the morning too.

“Thought I saw the twig giving them to you,” he refutes. It’s a poor excuse to not speak what need be said, and you both know it. 

You laugh, cheeks warmed by the mead and braziers and how close you are to Ivarr. He turns his hand over, and you slip your fingers through his. “Ceolbert doesn’t know cornflowers and bluebells are my favorites,” you note, “only you do.” It was an early summer morning nigh three years ago when Ivarr stumbled across you picking flowers along the edges of your grain fields. He hadn’t known why he stopped at the time but looking back it seems the Nornir planned it all along. For he found himself stopping by your farmstead whenever fate led him back.

“Walk with me?” You ask, not wishing to have a hundred watchful eyes lingering on the two of you. Ivarr trails after you, leaving behind the chatter and songs of the feast hall. It’s a clear night with a full moon bathing the Mercian countryside silver. You stop beneath one of the great trees in the borough, looking up at the lanterns hanging from the lower branches.

He stands at your side, the back of his hand brushing against yours, but it is not only holding hands in which you are interested. Ivarr meets your gaze when you slide in front of him with a raised brow. Unsure what was going on in that head of yours. He finds out when you cup his face, thumb quickly running over part of the scar cutting across his cheek before you rise and lean toward him —lips ghosting over his, gauging his response and if you’d made a fool of yourself.

All worries vanish when he presses his cracked lips to yours —firmly. One of his arms snaking around your waist to draw you closer as you slide your hand into his ashen brown hair. Lips parting, you can taste the honey sweetness on his tongue. You smile against his twisted lips, feeling a flood of embers race through your veins. Breaking the kiss, you rest your forehead on his shoulder —the hand tangled in his hair slipping down to his chest.

His rough fingers move across your jaw, tilting your chin up. “Sweet as honey,” Ivarr remarks with a lopsided smile as he cranes down, eager for another kiss. This time, you wrap your arms around his neck, gasping into his mouth when he lifts you —your feet barely touch the ground. It is a good feeling and one you can quickly grow accustomed to. 

Ceolbert stands next to Ubba Ragnarsson in the open entry of the feast hall, looking down the path to the great tree where you and Ivarr embraced one another. The young ætheling smiled, quickly returning to his seat at the table when you kissed Ivarr, but Ubba lingers a moment longer. He watches with a reserved smile as he drinks from his cup, thinking perhaps now, it will not be as hard to tame his brother if he had you to help ground him.

[taglist: @kvitravn @elizabethroestone @kitkitvm @elluvians]

If you’d like to be tagged in any future works about Ivarr, just let me know!