#legendary sigurd

[silvergarnet12]

Hey what if they put Seliph on the tea banner and also they used some of the Fates Butler class design I think that'd be neat.

[favoritenintendocharacterbracket]

Favorite Nintendo Character 2: Losing Bracket Round 2

[velvetvowsandvikingdreams]

ོ𓂃𖠳𓂃More than Enough ོ𓂃𖠳𓂃Pt. 2

Summary: Years after breaking his heart, you return to Kattegat—but he hasn't forgotten you.

Warnings: mdni!, smut!, emotional!angst!, alcohol use, slow burn, unrequited love, mentions of death, grief, heavy themes, soft!Ivar, longing, hurt/comfort, m!receiving, biting, marking, possessive!Ivar, p!in!v, choking, praising, makeup sex?, Ivar worshipping you

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Word count: 4,7 k

Many winters had passed since the last words were spoken between you and Ivar. Words said in anger, words meant to wound. He had bared his heart, and you... you couldn’t return what he needed then.

Ivar had carved his name into the bones of the Saxons, earned fear in every corner of the world that knew of war. And you—you sailed east, bled and fought for your own glory, and returned not just as a warrior, but as a legendary shieldmaiden in your own right.

You didn’t know what had become of Kattegat. Who ruled. Who still lived. Too many years had passed.

As your longship sliced through familiar waters, the sight of the bay made your chest tighten. Home. Or what was once home.

People had already gathered along the shore, word of you returning spread fast. You scanned the crowd—and there he was.

Hvitserk.

"Look what the gods dragged back!" he called out, grinning as he stepped forward. His face had changed—lines of grief and age, but the mischief was still there in his eyes.

You didn’t wait. You ran to him, arms wrapping around the brother who had once been your closest friend.

"I’ve missed you," you murmured into his shoulder.

"I can tell," he said, smirking. "You hug like a real shieldmaiden now."

You laughed, pulling back to look at him. "You’ve gotten older."

"Wiser," he corrected. "Maybe. Come. We need to drink until the sea feels like a dream."

As he led you toward the village, you looked around at the changed faces, the buildings you didn’t recognize.

"Kattegat looks... different. Where is Ubbe? Björn? Sigurd?"

The light in Hvitserk’s face faltered, just for a moment.

"What? What is it?" you asked, frowning.

He sighed, dragging you to a bench and pouring you a horn of mead like he needed a drink more than you did.

"So?" you prompted.

He swirled the drink. "A lot has changed since you left." He paused. "Ivar... killed Sigurd."

You blinked. "Honestly? I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Sigurd had a talent for pushing the wrong buttons."

Hvitserk let out a dry chuckle. "That he did. But still... seeing it was something else."

A beat passed, and he looked at you sideways.

"Speaking of Ivar... Not a single day passed that he didn’t speak of you. On every long voyage, when the sea was quiet and the night too quiet, and his thoughts too loud… he poured his heart out to me. Said he wished for death—just so he could forget you."

You gulped, heart clenching, bringing the cup to your lips. "I’m sure he had other obsessions."

"Not like you."

Silence.

You sighed and changed the subject. "What about Björn? And Ubbe?"

At that, Hvitserk gave a bitter sort of laugh. "Björn’s gone. As for Ubbe... things got messy. Lagertha killed our mother. And instead of standing with us for revenge, Ubbe chose her side."

You stared at him. "What? Ubbe?"

He nodded. "Yeah. He’s more like Ragnar than he’d admit."

You were quiet a moment. "And Lagertha? Where is she?"

Hvitserk only smirked, eyes glinting with amusement.

"Why don’t you go find out yourself?"

He tilted his head toward the Great Hall.

You raised a brow at Hvitserk’s cryptic smirk, but your feet moved before your mind could catch up.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The doors of the Great Hall creaked open as you pushed them aside. Empty. No guards. No voices. No throne occupied.

You stepped inside slowly, the echoes of your own footsteps your only company. The hall was familiar, yet altered. Faded banners, worn wood, the smell of smoke clinging to stone.

Your eyes flicked to the benches—how many nights had you and the sons of Ragnar drank yourselves stupid here? Arguing over gods and battles. You let a small smile tug at your lips, the weight of memory pressing down on your chest.

Then, a sound. A thud. From the room behind the hall.

Your hand flew to your dagger, instincts sharpened by years at sea. You turned just in time to see leather curtain part—and there he stood.

Ivar.

He leaned heavily on a crutch, metal braces now locked around his legs. Years of battle were written across his face, he got broader too. But those eyes... still ice, still fire.

"By Thor's hammer..." you breathed, lowering your hand slowly. "You look even more terrifying standing."

He gave a crooked smile, half-hearted, half-hiding something deeper. Without a word, he dragged himself toward the throne and sank into it with the weight of a man who’d bled for the right.

You had expected Lagertha but it was Ivar who was king now.

And yet, as he looked at you—up and down, like a ghost he wasn't sure was real—you couldn’t tell if it was love or resentment in his stare.

"I’m glad you’re back," he said finally, voice quieter than you'd expected.

You stepped closer, dropping onto the bench in front of him, smiling faintly.

"Still can’t grow a beard I see." You tease, as if it hadn't been years since you last spoke to each other.

"Adds to the scaryness," he shot back dryly. "A baby-faced killer."

You huffed a laugh, eyes drifting to his hair. Gone was the awkward bowl cut. In its place, intricate braids framed his face.

"You finally got rid of that stupid acorn haircut too," you giggled.

That earned a real laugh. "I knew you’d bring that up," he said, fingers grazing the braids absently. "Do you like them?"

You smirked. "Makes you look like less of an idiot."

He laughed again, louder this time. "I'll take it."

Then silence.

His eyes found yours, and held them. No battle in them now, just hope—fragile and raw.

"I’m sorry," he said suddenly.

You blinked. "Huh? No, I—uh—"

"No," he said, firmer now. "Let me say it. I was... cruel. I shouldn’t have pushed you back then. Shouldn’t have forced you to say something you didn't feel."

You studied him. Was this really Ivar?

"What have you done with the real Ivar?" you asked, brow raised.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "He’s still in here. Just... a bit less of an ass now."

You didn’t know what you were feeling, but something inside your chest made you feel warm.

"I’m sorry too," you said quietly. "I was harsh. I shouldn't have been."

He picked up his crutch, rising with effort. A faint hiss escaped his teeth as he moved to sit beside you. You could still see it—pain, like an old shadow behind his eyes.

"Do the braces hurt?" you asked, softer now.

"They used to, yes. But now," he murmured, setting himself down beside you. "Now it’s just... a part of me."

Liar.

He poured two cups of mead, offering one with a small smirk. "Thirsty?"

"Hvitserk already drank with me," you said, taking it anyway.

"Of course he did," Ivar muttered, lifting his to his lips. "Always eager to steal my moments."

"He’s changed too," you said.

Ivar’s gaze flicked sideways. "What did he tell you?"

"Well... that you killed Sigurd for instance," you said, watching him carefully.

His jaw tensed. "I hate myself for doing it but... I didn’t mean to... he—"

"I understand." you said simply. And you really did.

A beat of silence passed, and then you smirked, voice teasing.

"He also said that you’ve been thinking about me."

His eyes dropped to his cup, fingers tightening around it, the muscle in his cheek ticking. Was that a flush creeping up his neck?

"I see, my brother has lost the ability to think straight." his jaw tensed.

"Gods," you laughed. "Are you blushing?"

"Shut up."

You grinned, taking a long sip of the mead.

"You ever think about it?" you asked after a while, voice low.

He glanced at you. "Think about what?"

"This place. The way it used to be. Us… before we all became something else."

He didn’t answer at first. Just stared into the cup like it could pull the memory from him.

Then, finally, "All the time."

You leaned back, letting the bench creak under you. "Do you remember that night Ubbe and Hvitserk got so drunk they tried to fight half the warriors in this hall?"

Ivar let out a breath, a twitch of a smile. "Hvitserk yelled, ‘I’m stronger than all of you cowards!’ while he couldn’t even stand straight."

"And Ubbe tried to wrestle three men at once… ended up knocking himself out on a shield."

"And then Ragnar stormed in like a beserk,” Ivar added, laughing now, a low rumble in his chest. "Didn’t say a word. Just grabbed both of them by their hair and dragged them outside like two wet dogs."

You shook your head, the memory vivid in your mind. "We laughed so hard we couldn’t breathe. Oh gods—then we both puked."

Ivar groaned, half in laughter, half in shame. "In the mead barrel. The one they served from the next day."

You were both laughing now, that breathless, painful kind of laughter that came from remembering a time too far away.

"They thought it was the gods cursing the batch!" you gasped, wiping a tear from your cheek. "I think Hvitserk said the mead tasted 'divine.'"

Ivar leaned forward, elbows on his knees, still chuckling. "I haven't thought about that in... years."

The laughter faded, the quiet returned—but softer now.

You looked at him. "We were different back then."

"We were," he said quietly. "You used to smile more."

You swallowed. "Well... We didn’t have reasons to be so bitter. Or so... broken."

He turned to you now, gaze sharp but not cruel. "Do you ever wonder if we could go back?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "To what? Vomiting in mead barrels?"

He didn’t smile. "To before. Before... I ruined everything."

Your chest ached with the weight in his voice. "You didn’t ruin anything, Ivar. We were both immature."

He looked down at his hands, scarred and calloused, twisting the cup between them.

"I was so angry when you left," he admitted, voice rough. "Not just because you didn’t love me."

He looked away, jaw tightening again, like he was trying to wrestle something back down. But it didn’t stay.

"I thought about you a lot," he admitted, voice rough now. "Too much, maybe. On raids. In the quiet. I hated you for a while, I won’t lie. Then I hated myself more."

You said nothing, just listened.

"I thought... maybe if I became great enough, maybe if they all feared me, you’d come back. That you’d see me differently."

He looked at you again, this time with desperation hiding in his eyes.

"Do you?"

The question hung in the air like a blade.

You swallowed, heart hammering. "You are different. You’ve changed—matured."

He looked almost disappointed at that, but not surprised. "But not enough."

"No, that’s not what I meant." You shifted closer, speaking softer now. "You’re still my Friend. Still Ivar. Still cruel sometimes. But... there’s something else now."

"Desperation?" he offered bitterly.

"No—Confidence. You’re not trying to bury it anymore."

A pause.

You reached out, hesitating just slightly before your fingers brushed the back of his rough hand.

His hand turned, slowly, so your palms touched.

"I don’t want to lose you again," he said quietly. "Not now."

You looked down at your joined hands, then back up into those too-blue eyes.

He looked at you—really looked. Eyes drifting from yours to your lips, then back again, like he was trying to memorize you all over.

His hand brushed against your cheek, barely there.

"You’ve gotten even more beautiful," he whispered, voice trembling with restraint. "I didn’t even know that was possible."

The way he said it—it wasn’t flattery. It was mourning.

Like beauty itself was just another cruelty the gods had cursed him with. A beauty he could touch, but never truly hold.

He lingered there, fingertips against your skin, terrified you might vanish again. Like before. Like always.

There was something tragic in it—knowing that you were the only soul Ivar the Boneless had ever been soft with. That beneath the blood and the legend, beneath the king and the killer, he was still just a man who kept only one place sacred—the part of him that belonged to you.

"Ivar—" your voice cracked like dry wood.

But he cupped your face in both hands now, calloused palms trembling slightly, as if the weight of your skin was something holy. His eyes—cold blue and full of war—were glossy now, swimming with emotion he couldn’t swallow anymore.

"I hate it," he murmured, lips barely moving. "I hate how you’ll never love me the way I love you."

Your breath caught.

"I hate... how I’ve thought about you too many times—While knowing you haven’t thought about me the same way."

His voice broke, splintering with each word. He didn’t look away. He couldn’t.

"I hate that I hoped you’d never come back—because if you didn’t, maybe I could finally forget you."

His hands gently pulled your face closer to his.

"But I couldn’t," he breathed. "I never could."

His thumb ghosted along your jaw. "I couldn’t forget the way you laughed. The way your eyes lit up when you mocked me. Your lips. Your hands. Your eyes. Gods... your beautiful eyes."

He smiled faintly, brokenly, like the mere memory of them was enough to keep him alive and destroy him all at once.

And you... you couldn’t speak. You didn’t dare. Not when he was like this—laid bare in front of you, not as a king or a god or a monster, but just Ivar.

The boy who once swore he’d conquer the world.
The man who’d never stopped longing for the only thing he couldn’t conquer.

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"I have sailed across oceans. Burned cities to the ground. Broken kings. But nowhere—nowhere—did I find another like you."

He swallowed hard, eyes locked to yours like they were the last thing anchoring him to this world.

"No one has ever looked at me the way you do. Like I’m not cursed. Like I’m not something to be pitied or feared."

And for once, Ivar didn’t ask you for anything. No promises. No vows. No lies to soothe the ache.

"I swore on my armring," he said, voice low, rough with truth. "Either I would have you… or I would die trying to forget you."

He looked away for a moment, jaw clenched, as if the memory itself pained him.

"There were nights I held that oath tighter than my own axe. When the pain in my legs was nothing compared to the ache of not having you."

Then he turned his gaze back to you—full of everything he’d never stopped feeling.

"I would’ve died for you. But worse… I lived without you."

He just needed you to hear him.

And finally, finally, you spoke.

"Ivar…" you whispered, and this time it wasn’t pity or guilt or discomfort in your tone—it was everything else.

"You are wrong because... I did think of you."

His eyes flickered. You felt his grip tense slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

"I thought of you more than I ever wanted to admit."

You reached up slowly, your hand resting over his, thumb brushing his knuckles.

"I left because I was afraid. Of how much I felt. Of how deep it already was."

You swallowed hard, voice trembling now.

"And gods, I regret it. I regret walking away from the one person who ever saw me for who I was."

His jaw clenched, like he was bracing himself against the hope creeping in too fast.

"I made it easier by pretending you were just obsessed, just reckless. But that was a lie. You weren’t asking me to love you too much. You were asking me to stop running away from my feelings."

His hands dropped slowly, resting on your neck now, and he looked at you like the world had tilted.

His breath hitched.

"I should have stayed," you whispered. "And if I could go back to that night... I would have said something different. Something better. Something true."

You closed your eyes, letting the weight of it all wash over you.

"I’m sorry I made you carry it alone."

Silence fell again—but this time, it wasn’t hollow. It was full. Brimming. His chest was rising and falling fast now, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

"I am not running away anymore."

Ivar didn’t speak.

His forehead rested against yours, breath mingling in the stillness between you. Neither of you moved for a long moment. It felt like if either of you breathed too deeply, the moment might shatter.

But it didn’t.

Your eyes found his again, and you saw it—all of it. The storm that had raged behind them for years, the fire that had kept his rage alive on every battlefield, and the fragile, flickering hope he had tried so hard to kill but never could.

Your hand came up, fingers curling softly at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer with a gentleness that felt like forgiveness.

He blinked, startled by the touch. His lips parted, a breath caught in his throat.

And then—finally—you closed the space between you.

The kiss was slow, hesitant at first, like the two of you weren’t sure if you were allowed to want this after all that time, all that hurt.

But once it started—he melted into it.

You deepened the kiss, your lips molding into his, letting your hand slide to his jaw, feeling the rough edge of it, his stubbles and the slight tremor in his breath.

He broke away first—barely—his forehead pressed to yours again, eyes fluttering shut.

"I thought I’d imagined what this would feel like,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “But I didn’t. Not even close."

You smiled softly against his lips, your thumb brushing his cheek.

"You don’t have to imagine anymore."

Ivar looked at you like he still couldn’t believe this was real—like the gods had finally played him a trick he didn’t want to wake from.

Then, without a word, you rose to your feet, fingers still laced with his.

He blinked up at you, confused for a moment, watching as you tugged gently on his hand. "Come," you whispered, voice velvet.

"I—" he began, glancing down at his legs, unsure, but you didn’t let him hesitate. You guided him slowly—patiently—toward the throne. He lowered himself back onto the throne, breath uneven, and looked up at you, brow furrowed slightly—still unsure of what you were doing.

"A King needs a Queen, don't you think?" Your words were slow, teasing, laced with heat. "Hm?"

Then your mouth found his again—this time deeper, slower, bolder. His hands gripped your waist as your lips trailed from his mouth to his jaw, down to the hollow of his throat, tasting the salt of his skin. He shuddered beneath you, a groan rumbling from his chest.

You smiled against his neck, hearing the way his breath caught, how he swallowed hard. You kissed your way lower, slow and deliberate, until you knelt before him, eyes locked on his.

But as your hands reached for the knot of his belt, his breath stuttered and he shifted slightly.

"Wait—" he rasped, voice raw, uncertain. "You don’t have to—"

But before he could finish, your fingers undid the knot with one slow, fluid motion, never breaking eye contact. Taking his length into your hand.

"I know," you said softly. "I want to."

You leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his already flushed tip.

"Please..." He moaned in a shuddering exhale.

Your eyes met his as your lips wrapped around him firmly, slower this time. You were in no rush.

Then, without breaking eye contact, you took him fully into your mouth—slow and sure, as if you had waited years for this.

His body tensed. A low, guttural sound escaped him—half whining, half pleading—as his head dropped back against the carved wood of the throne, eyes rolling in pleasure.

You moved with a rhythm that wasn’t just desire, but devotion. Like you were claiming something that had always belonged to you.

And Ivar, for all his power, for all his rage and pride, was utterly undone by you.

"So good... just like that—" he choked out, voice breaking into a ragged gasp.

"Gods, you’re…" he couldn’t even finish the sentence.

His hand reached down—shaky, desperate—tangling firmly in your hair, to guide—anchor himself. To make sure this wasn’t a dream slipping through his fingers.

"You like it when I use you like this?" he breathed, forcing you down until tears started to form in your eyes.

You moaned in response, moving faster.

His whole body arched slightly, lips parting in a soundless cry, he had never imagined that you would want him in this way.

"So perfect for me," he groaned.

He tasted of salt and heat, his skin taut with tension as you took him deeper, your lips molding around. You dragged your tounge along his dick with one long stripe, before putting it back in, releasing it back again with a pop.

His grip tightened in your hair, moving you in a way he had always imagined. He looked down at you, lips parted in awe as you gripped the leather of his tunic.

"By the gods," he groaned, the sound low and ragged in his throat. "You're going to break me."

You didn’t stop. You deepened your rhythm, cheeks hollowing as you worked him with a mix of devotion and hunger. His thighs tensed beneath your hands, and his grip in your hair tightened again—his control fraying by the second.

You could feel it—the way he trembled, the way his voice cracked as he whispered your name like a prayer, like a curse, like he was terrified and satisfied all at once.

He was falling apart for you. And he didn’t even try to hide it.

You let your eyes flutter up to meet his again—and gods, the look he gave you.

Hunger. Lust. Desperation.

"I wish I could capture the way you look up at me like this forever... so beautiful," he growled, voice low and guttural, a thread away from breaking. "Please… don't stop."

You took him deeper, let your tongue swirl around his leaking head, let your lips press firm and wet around every inch of him. The way he filled your mouth made your core ache, made your thighs press together from the heat building in your own body.

His chest was heaving, lips parted, eyes dark and wild.

"I-I need to finish inside you," he growled, voice rough with restraint, "I want you to feel how much I craved you."

Without hesitation you climbed into his lap and straddled him, your knees settling on either side of his hips, your hands resting on his shoulders like they were made to fit there.

His breath caught.

You leaned in, your voice a whisper against his mouth.

His eyes darkened instantly, lips parting to respond, but no sound came. You didn’t give him the chance.

You kissed him again—letting him taste himself on your tounge.

And then, slowly, his fingers moved down the front of your linen Dress. Ripping it open, never breaking eye contact. The fabric slipped from your shoulders like water, pooling at your waist.

You were bare before him.

Ivar’s breath stuttered, his hands instinctively tightening at your hips, his jaw slack with awe. And for once, the man known for sharp words, for speeches that could rally armies and crush spirits, said nothing.

Just—"Gods."

His eyes roamed over you like he was afraid you might vanish again. Like every curve of your skin was a sacred truth he’d been denied for far too long.

"I have lost count on how many times I've imagined you like this," he breathed, voice rough with reverence. "My rare flower."

You cupped his face gently, your thumb brushing over his lip as you whispered, "I am yours, Ivar."

Your words—did something to him.

You felt it in the way his grip shifted, hands tightening at your hips like he was afraid you’d vanish again.

His mouth found your neck, and the breath he let out against your skin was desperate. Not from lust alone—but from need. From years of imagining this. From every sleepless night he’d spent picturing your perfect body, your warmth, your voice saying those exact words.

"I need you," he whispered into your neck, lips dragging across your delicate flesh. "By the gods... I need you like blood in my veins. Like air."

His mouth pressed sloppy, open kisses to your neck, your pulse jumping beneath them. He was worshipping you with his lips and teeth, letting the desperation finally break through the restraint.

He bit down gently on the side of your neck—not enough to hurt, but enough to claim, and the low growl in his throat made your body shiver in his hands.

"Ivar—" You whimpered, nails digging into his broad shoulders.

He smiled against your fevered skin. Then his mouth trailed lower, to your collarbone. He sucked, bit, kissed along every dip and line like he wanted to mark you, brand you with his mouth.

You let out another moan.

"Freya herself would wish to be you," he rasped, voice cracking against your skin. "She would kill to be worshipped the way I worship you."

When his lips finally reached your soft breasts, he paused—just for a moment. Looking up at you before he took one of them into his mouth, lips soft and warm, tongue circling your hardened nipple as his hands held you tighter. He sucked gently, then harder, a low groan escaping him as if this—this exact moment—was what had kept him alive all these years.

You bit your lower lip, whining under his touch. You didn't know he could take you like this.

"You are mine," he growled against your skin, moving to your other breast, lavishing it with the same desperate devotion. "You don’t know what you do to me."

You gasped—sharp and breathless—as his mouth closed over your breast again, teeth grazing your sensitive skin just enough to make your back arch.

"Fuck—Ivar—" you moaned, fingers tangling in his braids, needing more, needing him.

Each bite, each pull of his lips sent fire crackling down your spine. You could already feel where he’d leave his marks—proof that this moment had been real, that it wasn’t just another haunting memory to carry. You wanted him to ruin you in the way only he could.

"I’m going to cover you in them," he growled against your chest, as if reading your thoughts. "So every time you look at yourself, you remember—you’re mine."

You whimpered at his words, grinding down against him, your pussy aching to be filled, to finally have what it had been craving for years. You felt the hard, growing length of him beneath you—pressing up between your legs, thick and hot even through the layers of fabric.

The friction was maddening, dizzying. You rocked your hips instinctively, and the sound that ripped from his throat made your pulse shatter.

"So eager hm?" His hands gripped your waist, trying to slow you, trying to breathe—but the need was clawing through both of you now, wild and uncontrollable.

You leaned down, lips brushing the shell of his ear, voice shaking with lust and desperation.

"Please... I need you inside of me," you moaned.

His whole body tensed beneath you, a low, guttural noise leaving his throat like he’d been struck. His hands slid down to your thighs, his calloused hand gripping down your flesh possesively.

"Say it again," he rasped.

You obeyed, slower this time, eyes locked with his. "Please my King—I need you inside of me."

He smirked breathlessly.

His mouth captured yours again—this time with no restraint. It was deep and bruising, your bodies pressing together in a chaotic rhythm of hands, lips, breath. Your linen dress slipped fully from your arms, forgotten, as Ivar’s hands explored every inch of you like he’d been starved for the feel of your skin.

"I wish I had just taken you sooner," he growled into your mouth, his voice dark and wrecked. "Like this."

You rocked your hips against him again, and this time he didn’t stop you. He welcomed it—his hands gripping your waist tighter as he bucked up into you, letting the thick length of him press harder against the heat between your legs.

The friction made your breath catch, a moan slipping from your lips as you clutched his shoulders for balance. "Ivar—"

"I know," he panted, forehead pressed to yours, his eyes locked onto yours like they were the only thing keeping him grounded. "I know."

You reached between your bodies, taking his already throbbing length into your hand, feeling the heat of him.

Then he paused.

One hand came up to your face, gently brushing hair from your cheek, his thumb grazing your parted lips. "Are you sure?" he asked, looking deeply into your eyes, voice hoarse. "Tell me this is real."

You leaned in, lips brushing his, and whispered, "Very real."

You teased your wet slit with his tip. "Stop teasing, Love." He hissed.

And then you guided him into you, inch by inch.

Your breath caught, his eyes rolled back, and a broken sound spilled from both your throats as you finally lowered yourself on him.

Your pussy clenched around him instinctively as he stretched you out. "So... tight—" He groaned, trying to find your gaze. He wanted to capture this very moment forever.

For a second, neither of you moved. The weight of it, the gravity of it, sank in. You felt how he filled you up.

His toned arms wrapped around you, holding you to him like he was afraid the gods might still take you away.

"You're taking me so well... so perfect," he praised into your neck, kissing your skin again, slower this time. "All for me."

You circled your hips, and he gasped your name like a man in prayer.

"Just like that..." He groans as the slick sounds fill the empty hall, echoing in lust, throwing your head into the curve of his neck.

His hand wrapped around your throat as he tilted your chin, eyes burning into yours. "Look at me," he commanded, low and rough, but there was no cruelty in it—only a need so deep it bordered on pain.

"I need to see your eyes when I’m inside you. I need to see how much you regret that you didn't let me fuck you sooner..." He groans, forcing you deeper every time as you cry out his name.

Your mouth opened in a desperate whine as his other hand flew down your pussy, circling your clit with his thumb slowly.

"So much—I regret it so much..." You whimper shaking as he eats the lust from your lips, his thumb circling faster.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into the leather and scarred skin beneath. "Ivar—please" you gasped, your voice trembling.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to see the desperation in your face, then his eyes darkened, lips brushing your ear.

"You don’t know how many nights I laid awake thinking about your sweet cunt—fucking you so deep you'd forget your own name. On top of me, moaning my name like this."

Your breath hitched. Your voice was a trembling mess. "Fuck—I need you..."

"Say it like you mean it," he growled, biting down your lip, his cock twitching deep inside you as he pulled your hair just enough to expose your throat more to him, sucking on your sweet spot.

"P-Please—I need you," you said, louder this time, gasping. "I need all of you."

"I am right here, my sweet one. Let the gods see who you belong to." He whispered, sweat pearls forming on his forehead.

Your body trembled above him, every muscle taut, every nerve on fire. His name spilled from your lips again and again, breathless and breaking as he guided your hips, grinding into you with a steady, powerful rhythm that left your senses spinning.

"I—Ivar…" you choked out, your voice high and trembling, cheeks on fire.

He looked up at you, eyes glazed with lust, jaw clenched tight as he held himself back—barely. His hand was still wrapped around your throat, possessive but tender, grounding you in the madness.

"I know, me too," he growled, breath ragged. "I feel your sweet pussy clenching around me."

You could only nod, your eyes wide, lips parted. The knot in your lower belly had been winding tighter and tighter—burning, coiling—until you could barely take another second of it.

"I can’t… I can’t last," you gasped, your voice breaking as your nails dug into his shoulders. "Gods, Ivar—I’m going to—"

"So desperate for me," he moaned, voice low and ruined. "Come for me, Love. Let me feel you."

His words—commanding, pleading—were the last push you needed.

The knot inside you, the one that had been wound tighter and tighter with every ache and every memory, suddenly snapped.

And then, you finally said what you had been denying him all along.

"Ivar…" you breathed, voice shaking. "I—" You panted, chest heaving, hands trembling as they cradled his face. "I love you."

He couldn't process what you were saying.

Was he dreaming?

Your body arched. A broken sob escaped your lips as the orgasm crashed over you, harder and deeper than anything you’d ever felt. You trembled in his arms, shaking as your release tore through you.

He held you tight, arms locked around you as if to keep you from breaking apart completely. And then you felt it—his own body tense beneath you, breath stalling in his chest.

With a low, guttural growl, he thrust up into you once, twice more—and then he broke, spilling inside you.

"Fuck—" he cursed against your neck, his body shaking beneath yours.

And then he knew—You were finally his.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

Taglist (If you want to get added write/comment) 💞

@ivarlover @deathsthighs @tessakate @oddsnendsfanfics @glitterandgoldfinds @mighra

[whencyclopedia]

Lagertha

Lagertha (also spelt Lathgertha or Ladgerda) is a legendary Viking shieldmaiden known from Saxo Grammaticus' early 13th-century CE Gesta Danorum. In this work, written in Latin and concerning Danish history, she is the first wife of Ragnar Lothbrok, a legendary Viking king said to have lived during the 9th century CE. Contrasting with the prominent role Lagertha plays in the ongoing Vikings TV series, where she is portrayed by Katheryn Winnick, the Gesta Danorum is the only historical source that even mentions her and ties her in with the more broadly-known Ragnar mythos, making her more of a footnote within his legend rather than a core element. She makes for a bold footnote, though, and an interesting character in her own right; brave and skilled, she is twice responsible for ensuring victory for Ragnar in battle. Although classical concepts of Amazons underlie Saxo's warrior women, his stories are rooted in the Old Norse traditions known from medieval Icelandic literature. Specifically, Lagertha herself may have been inspired by the Norse goddess Thorgerd, local to Hálogaland, Norway.

The Gesta Danorum

Saxo sets the stage for Ragnar and Lagertha's meeting by describing how the Swedish King Frø has slain Siward, King of the Norwegians, who was Ragnar's grandfather, and has publically humiliated Siward's female family members by putting them in a brothel. Ragnar, having just succeeded his father Siward Ring (Sigurd Hring or Ring in other Ragnar stories) to the throne of Jutland in Denmark, hears of this and is obviously not pleased. Coming to Norway with vengeance on his mind, Ragnar is met at his camp by some of the women who had been scorned, dressed up in male attire and ready to join him to hunt down the Swedish king. In the ensuing successful battle, it is one maiden in particular who stands out to Ragnar; he even goes so far as to attribute the victory to her might alone. This is, of course, Lagertha, who is described by Saxo as

…a skilled amazon, who, though a maiden, had the courage of a man, and fought in front among the bravest with her hair loose over her shoulders. All marvelled at her matchless deeds, for her locks flying down her back betrayed that she was a woman. (IX).

As if the fighting skills of the legendary warrior were not enough to set Ragnar's heart aflame, he also hears she is of noble birth, so he instantly starts courting her long-distance by sending messages to her home. Saxo tells of Lagertha feigning interest and basically leading Ragnar on while she sets up an advanced defence system around her house in the Gaulardal valley (in present-day Norway): a bear and a dog stand guard on her porch, ready to tear her would-be lover to pieces. When Ragnar travels to her home thinking he is in for an easy win, he meets the guardians who – although a surprise to him – prove no match and fall to his legendary skills, one speared and one strangled to death. Lagertha becomes Ragnar's prize, and in their subsequent marriage, they have two unnamed daughters as well as a son, Fridleif.

Three peaceful years Ragnar spends in Norway before unrest in his own Danish kingdom calls him back there. At this point, Saxo's account turns to more familiar waters when it comes to the Ragnar legend. He introduces King Herodd of Sweden – known from the main source on Ragnar, The Saga of Ragnar Lothbrok, as Herruð, jarl of Götaland in Sweden – whose daughter Thora has been raising a bunch of snakes who grow out of control. Herodd offers his daughter's hand to whoever can rid them of their slight problem, and Ragnar,

…changing his love and desiring Thora (…), divorced himself from Ladgerda; for he thought ill of her trustworthiness, remembering that she had long ago set the most savage beasts to destroy him. (IX).

He fashions the characteristic hairy trousers that give him his epithet (Loðbrók means shaggy- or hairy breeches), leaves his son Fridleif in charge of his men and goes to fight the snakes alone. Afterwards, his mission fulfilled, he marries Thora.

Thora is a well-known, core element in the various Ragnar stories, and Lagertha here thus features in a sort of prologue. However, this is not the end of her involvement in the story as laid out by Saxo. She remarries and is later asked by Ragnar for aid in his squabbles in his homelands. Not only does Lagertha agree to this and offer 120 ships "to the man who had once put her away" (IX), she herself once again plays a decisive role in the battle. When hope is wavering, Ragnar's son Siward is wounded, and all seems to be lost, Lagertha turns the tide:

Ladgerda, who had a matchless spirit though a delicate frame, covered by her splendid bravery the inclination of the soldiers to waver. For she made a sally about, and flew round to the rear of the enemy, taking them unawares, and thus turned the panic of her friends into the camp of the enemy. At last the lines of Harald became slack, and Harald himself was routed with a great slaughter of his men. (IX).

Saxo ends Lagertha's character arc on a brutal note. He states that when she came home after the battle, she murdered her husband with a spear-head that she had hidden in her dress, usurped his name and began ruling in his stead. For this episode, she is denounced by him as a "most presumptuous dame" (IX).

Continue reading...

[pillowbugs]

legendary emblem | [ 2 ] | from the ashes

Seliph and Leif, with outfits based on Lugia and Ho-oh - going a bit more old-school with this pair.

[1]

(Additional notes + bonus under cut)

(with Deirdre and Ethlyn's hair. IMO Seliph looks fine, Leif might need a bit of readjustment.)

Leif's trim and sword are gold, while Seliph's are silver - because Ho-oh and Lugia are the mascots of those two games respectively.

Leif has the Rainbow Wing in his hair, Seliph has the Silver Wing.

Ho-oh and Lugia, being relatively simpler designs than Xerneas and Yveltal, really don't give much to go off of outfit-wise - so I decided to borrow some elements from their sub-legendary trios. Leif has the designs of the legendary beasts on his waist armour, while Seliph has bands on his sword + gems on his trousers to represent the legendary birds.

Seliph

Of Seliph's other gems: the stones on his belt are Lugia's shiny palette (tried to include it somewhere since Leif has Ho-oh's shiny colours at the top of his cape), while those hanging from his shoulders are meant to resemble water droplets, as Lugia is associated with the sea and storms.

In addition to the water droplets, Seliph's vest is meant to resemble ocean waves, again for the sea / storm theme.

The resemblance to Sigurd (i.e. wearing mostly white) is intentional.

Leif

Ho-oh's tail feathers resemble a chrysanthemum, which has multiple cultural meanings (likely taken into account when it was first designed); across Europe, chrysanthemums are a flower of mourning, while in Japan, they represent the emperor and royalty. Both themes connected to Jugdral's setting - hence Leif has some chrysanthemums on his boots, and the hilt of his sword.

The armour plate we do not talk about the specific location resembling Suicune has a crystal.

Accidental nonbinary Raikou armour. 100% keeping it.

[synindoodles]

— The Tale of Ragnar Lothbrok — An illustrated, handwritten book project I did for university - it tells the story of Ragnar as a legendary viking figure but also of those that were later associated and mixed with the original myth, such as Reginherus, Ragnall Ua Ímairr and Ragnar's famous sons according to legend aka Ivarr The Boneless, Bjorn Ironside, Halfdan "Hvítserk" Ragnarsson and Sigurd Snake-In-The-Eye. I did, however, mix history and myth with History Vikings' depiction of some of these characters, though what is written in each page is based on several articles I found about these people and not in the show's version of them. I'll be posting the rest of these sections separately in the coming weeks so you can also see each drawing in HQ 🤭

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

Please give Sigurd a Christmas Alt IntSys. Make him ride a reindeer. Maybe have him be a duo unit with Baby Seliph. I know that doesn't make sense timeline wise but Legendary Sigurd is a ghost you can make it work somehow

.

[gempantheon]

Johan's past life is shrouded in mystery, scattered across dimensions. To find records of it one would have to traverse deep into the depths of the Norse legends and myths. The reason being that the man come to be known as Sigurd that is Johan's past life was an outcast from his clan, those who partook in arts of magic were often women, not men. Magic and ritual, especially seiðr, was primarily the realm of women, but there were obviously many male practitioners too. Men could also be priests and lead rituals and sacrifice, and there were several rituals in connection to the male domain of warriors. Men who practiced magic and sorcery, however, were considered a bit unusual. It seems that men who were not “manly” enough for their time could resort to witchcraft, which required a certain “unmanliness”. One of the titles of a male practitioner of seiðr is seiðberendr. Practitioners used seiðr to foretell and shape the future, often through symbolic weaving of events. Seiðr was used for divination, healing, protection, and even causing harm or misfortune.  Yet despite this Sigurd partook in these practices, as if called by something to do so, often coming into contact with something none could describe. In the depths of his trances, Sigurd would commune with something other than the gods, soon abandoning his clan to follow his calling, what he was being beckoned towards. Much of this history is lost, the journey that he took remains unknown but what is clear is that within texts of ancient battles or raids, there would be descriptions of hundreds falling before a single warrior, gleaming like the brightest light in the sky, commandment of legendary beasts that protected him just as he them. It's unclear how many of these accounts were true, but all knew the inevitable coming war that spread far from the reaches of where it began. In the beginning of the battle between Light and Darkness, Sigurd refused to aid both side unless it aided in the survival of the Crystal Beasts. This most often caused conflict with both sides (more from the light and those of darkness who thought they could trick him into aiding). What remains known is the power this titan of a man wielded, invoking the beasts name and fighting alongside them. Despite this Sigurd did begin to eventually join the darkness, despite being a being of mostly light, destruction could never truly corrupt the man. Not until it seeped into the crystal beasts, desperate to save his new 'clan', Sigurd channeled the light into himself. Before corrupting he would leave the beasts to the darkness, trusting them to keep them safe and away from the battle. Sigurd's fate is unknown. Perhaps he died on the battlefield, perhaps he was killed in an act of mercy or Sigurd took his own life, what is known is that the crystal beasts never fought again. Until now...

[rrcraft-and-lore]

Armies of the Dead/heaven in myths and epic fantasy - and the magic horns behind them!

One of the most famous armies of dead soldiers? The Men of Dunharrow, the army of the dead from Lord of the Rings who broke their oaths and renewed them finally under Aragorn.

Let's do this!

If you're a younger fantasy reader, or more modern, perhaps your introduction to this idea is in Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time with his magical horn that summons an army and legendary heroes to the field.

Some fans have said this is inspired by the Norse horn Gjallarhorn. 

This is the horn trusted to Heimdallr to be blown to announce the beginning of Ragnarok and summon the Norse gods to the "thing" (thing is used in this case legitimately to mean - meeting, assembly, folkmoot) - in a moment like NORSE AVENGERS, ASSEMBLE! 

This includes the Einherjar, the spirits of Norse warriors of honored dead who fell in battle and reside in Valhalla. But was there another possible influence?

Well, we know RJ was a Tolkien fan, and honestly who wouldn't be back in the days of early fantasy? 

So, what of Tolkien's ghostly army of dead warriors? Well, if you haven't read the books, you might not know that Aragorn too summons his army of the dead with a magical horn (cut from the films). That's right. 

You see, Elrohir (one of the sons of Elrond, also cut from the films) entrusts Aragorn with a silver horn to summon the dead with at the Stone of Erech to deal with them. Tolkien was a Norse buff and loved the old epics as well as poems. 

So he was likely familiar with the stories just like with Gjallarhorn as well. But also, quite possibly the Song of Roland (a French epic poem) in where Roland and his forces are ambushed at Roncesvalles and are going to lose. In final desperation, Roland blows the horn, and the emperor hears the call. But the aid will not arrive in time (unlike the films and more modern stories where the heroes do arrive to save the day - this is cuz we like the just in the nick of time trope) so Roland dies blowing it one last time to hard in vengeance his temples burst (and he ascends to heaven), but...Charlemagne's army arrives in the aftermath and scatters the enemy. But, are there other armies of the dead? In fact, yes. 

The Night Marchers of Hawaii who come with a warm wind, & the smell of sulfur, and the call of a conch shell to herald them. If you come upon this procession with torches in the night, and you are an enemy...time to RUN! Because if you watch them your eyes might be incinerated.

Then there is the Wild Hunt - a shared myth motif present through eastern, northern, and western European cultures. A ghostly army of the souls of dead men (and creatures) usually united under a leader (though this figure changes), Herne, Odin/Woden, Gwyn ap Nudd, Sigurd or Siegfried the Dragon Slayer, Theodoric the Great, onward. Now, they're not summoned by a horn, but in some tales their coming is announced by one.

Now, an Indian cognate of the Wild Hunt and warriors in the service of heavens The Maruts.

The number of them vary from 20+ to over 180, to even more (yay conflicting mythological sources and arguments in ancient texts and interpretations).

But who are they? Companions and servants to Lord Indra, Slayer of the First Born of Dragons, and lord of the heavens and storms! So, fittingly, these warriors are very...storm themed. Violent, aggressive, expert combatants armed with lightning weaponary, and golden chariots to fly through the clouds on. Their war crys and battle sounds are like thunder. Their blows would split clouds (sounding thunder) and would hunt the enemies of Lord Indra and slaughter demons/monsters.

Interestingly they are often associated as the sons (children) of Rudra (the Rig Vedic storm and wind god). However, there is another group that often gets that association (obviously so), the Rudras.

The Rudras are similar in (some) regards to the Maruts but not all. They aid Vishnu in his battles against demons and are clad in lion-skins, and wear serpents around their necks. A crescent moon adorns their foreheads, and they wield golden tridents and carry a skull in one hand they wear necklaces of lightning illuminated clouds (how's that for bling bling?), and are monstrously feral in battle. Lord Shiva can call them with a blow of a conch shell/horn. 

Their overlap, association with the Maruts is because of some etymology and shared functions as they too are a divine/spiritual/demigod group of heavenly warriors to aid the good and destroy evil - demons/adversaries, and the root word in their name means the roarers, thunderers, or the shouters - and this is also mentioned of the Maruts.

Are these all there are for legendary armies of the dead, of gods/heaven to be summoned to the field or aid? No. But, it's rainy, I'm a little messed up (mental health and meds), and tired. 

So I'm going to bow out and read and study for Tremaine 3 and leave this minor comparative thread here for folks into this stuff.

[intrepid-fictioneer-7]

I've come to the conclusion that, in my humble opinion, Higashide is the writer in TYPE-MOON who makes the best ships involving Heroic Spirits.

Which might sound really weird. After all, the central couple in Fate/Apocrypha is Sieg/Jeanne d'Arc, and it's a pretty divisive one. No offense to those who like it, but it's always a dynamic I thought made no real sense narratively and didn't have much chemistry. Sieg on his journey of self-affirmation and personhood didn't need a romance (except maybe with Astolfo, with whom the dynamic is much more fun). Jeanne, the historical figure who rejected a marriage proposal, wore male clothing, and whose famous nickname refers to her celibacy, getting into a romance just never vibed with me (especially when it felt like the parallels/relationship between her and Shirou Kotomine were far more relevant). Add to that the ending copying Last Episode without what made LE have a strong impact, and it makes the whole even less appealing.

But despite that, Apo is also the work where there is the surprising ship of Shirou Amakusa and Queen Semiramis of all people: the semi-legendary Assyrian queen credited with making one of the Seven Wonders of the ancient world falling in love with the young charismatic Japanese Christian who rebelled against the shogunate and failed. It's a very strange crossover ship between two people who never could have met if not for being brought back and it somehow works in being endearing.

(Achilles and Atalanta kinda count I guess, but it's a one-sided ship with little reasoning, that I care so little about, and is eclipsed by the more compelling foils each get, Chiron for Achilles, Jeanne for a Jackie the Ripper-driven mad Atalante.)

Higaside having grown and improved as a writer by the time of FGO, what followed this growth was him not doing a repeat of Sieg/Jeanne, but writing better ships mostly involving Servants. Asterios the Minotaur and Euryale the Gorgon; last Byzantine emperor Constantine IX and fictional Popess Johanna; heck, you can even see the relationship between Mordred and Dr. Jekyll this way (it also works as simple close friendship). Being characters from usually completely different mythologies and historical cultures, there is care done to make it clear why they fall for each other and as a result these couples are very different from one another instead of being the same formula everytime. In a game where a lot of (female) Servants are made to fall for the last Master of Chaldea for sometimes very little reason, these are a breath of fresh air.

For all my problems with her, Sakurai does something similar, though her ships are usually people who canonically were together in their legends: Sigurd/Brynhild, Aslaug/Ragnar Lodbrok, Julius Caesar/Cleopatra, Ozymandias/Nefertari, Tomoe Gozen/Kiso Yoshinaka, etc. They can be one note and there is a repeated thematic tendency of hers of writing "inhuman woman discovering humanity by falling in love", but they tend to be very cute and I easily understand that these people are in love even beyond death, so I root for them to reunite. Higashide also has "canonical" pairings, but the results are more muddled here: Siegfried and Kriemhild are adorable as a divorced couple where there are clearly still feelings, no matter what the tsundere wife says. But Rama and Sita are just...there. I understand the point of their separation, but it's not very engaging and Rama essentially disappeared after the American Singularity, while Sita was yeeted to Arcade. A mark against Higashide, but not as bad as Sieg/Jeanne and overshadowed by the numbers of better ships he wrote in FGO.

And there's Orion and Artemis, where I'm split. Super Orion and LB Artemis was really good and poignant. Orion the teddy bear and ditzy Artemis are a realy bad joke that overstayed its welcome.

FGO prioritizes Master/Servant relationships, both because the last Master of Chaldea is a blank slate for players to self insert into, and also because human×Servant is the type of ship Nasu specializes in (Shirou/Saber, Rin/Saber, Kuzuki/Caster, Caren/Angra Mainyu, and to a lesser extent Bazett/Cu, Yukika/False Assassin, and Ayako/Medusa in FSN; Fate/Extra as a whole; Ritsuka/Castoria in FGO). But even there Higashide made better choices than when he penned Sieg/Jeanne. Charlotte Corday is a surprisingly well-done choice for her archetype, it seems like it's going to be another Kiyohime but no, he actually makes her a good character you get attached to.

And then there is Kadoc and Anastasia. Words cannot describe how much I love them, how their personalities clash and complement each other in the best way, how aesthetically good they look put next to each other, etc. And it's not even just that we got a MasterxServant relationship outside Ritsuka, though that helped.

Basically, Higashide has become my go-to source for good ships, especially intra-Servants ones where Ritsuka is not involved and characters are allowed to not orbit around their Master. Sakurai also provides in that last aspect, but Higashide is doing that and also giving that crossover flavor you see in things like that one Cartoon Network ad with Johnny Bravo and Velma, and that works really well for me.

[worldofmythology]

Aslaug / Kraka

In Norse mythology, Aslaung was the daughter of the hero Sigurd and the valkyrie Brynhildr. Her parents died when she was still a young girl, making her the last living decedent of the legendary line of Völsungs. Fearing that enemies of the Völsungs would attempt to kill her, Aslang's foster father, Heimir, assumed the guise of a beggar and hid the small girl within a harp. Each night he fed her from a magic onion to keep her full and played the harp to keep her from crying.

Heimir was murdered by Aki and Gríma , two peasants that suspected there was treasure hidden within the harp. Aslaung refused to speak when she was discovered, effectively concealing her identity. Aki and Grima named her Kraka ("Crow") and attempted to pass her off as their daughter. Feeling her beauty would raise questions they shaved and tarred her head to keep hair from regrowing.

When she was fully grown ships carrying the recently widowed hero Ragnar came to the shores of Aslaug's home. She washed and removed the tar, her golden hair falling down around her. Ragnar's men were greatly impressed by her beauty and carried stories of it back to Ragnar. Ragnar then summoned her to him, declaring that she must come to him "neither clothed nor naked" so Aslaug came before him wrapped in a fishing net. Aslaug and Ranar eventually married.

Aslaung's story is told in the Saga of the Ragnar Loðbrók as well as the Prose Edda.

Images: Kraka and Ragnar Lodbrog meets Kraka by Mårten Eskil Winge

Sources: The Saga of the Volsungs: With the Saga of Ragnar Lothbrok (translated by Jackson Crawford), Prose Edda (translated by Jesse L. Byock), Wikipedia

[koroart]

if lambert ever gets added to heroes, how do you think the lambert and dimitri reunion goes? i think at first it'd be a little difficult for dimitri to come to terms with, seeing his father, who he watched die a horrible death, alive and well

Honestly I think it would depend on the Dimitri they decide to use -- but knowing Intsys, they'll probably go with Academy age Dimitri and I feel out of all the ones there, he'd have the more difficult time coming to terms that his father-- who he indeed saw die a horrible death -- alive and well. Maybe he might even avoid him because he can't fathom it, and everyone is trying to comfort Lambert and telling him to give Dimitri some space. The same is being done for Dimitri, with people reassuring him that Lambert here is real and they can spend time together and whatnot. Say the things that were left unsaid and just hug him.

The people comforting Dimitri would probably be Seliph and maybe Ike? Who both lost their fathers and have met them in Askr alive and well. ( Maybe the Byleths, too, since they lost Jeralt and all )

Sigurd would probably be the one talking with Lambert. He's the best candidate because he died when his own son was so young, too. Maybe Ike's father ( i forgot his name ) and Jeralt too!

Eventually, this would accumulate to the moment where they both finally talk, and when that happens, I will bawl my eyes out.

Legendary and Brave Dimitri would, at the very least, have been more mature about it but perhaps still a little shaken up because they never thought they'd see Lambert again. And perhaps express worry and fear that they haven't lived up to his expectations and whatnot, as any adult does when it comes to their parent. Oogh, I'm in a glass case of emotions rn.

[gascon-en-exil]

Fire Emblem Heroes: 2024 Year in Review

Now that we've gotten the trailer for the year's last new unit, I wanted to take some time to look back on the additions to FEH's roster in 2024. Rather than focusing on the ever-increasing deluge of powercreep, I'll instead be tallying up how each of the contributing games performed in Heroes appearances this year and using that information to make observations on trends in the mobile game. I keep spreadsheets of this stuff, because reasons.

Note that I'll be counting units as FEH itself does - so the backpack characters in Duo/Harmonic units aren't factored in, and characters who appear in multiple titles will be grouped with whichever game they're listed under in the catalogue.

The Year of Engage

Even in spite of its disappointing performance in the year's Choose Your Legends, FE17 took the prize for the game with the most number of new additions to the roster in 2024, at 27. This isn't the highest end-of-year total ever - Houses hit 31 in 2021, and Fates (48), Awakening (36), and even Archanea (30) surpassed that in FEH's launch year - but that's nonetheless an impressive showing. This number encompassed two New Heroes banners, appearances on multiple seasonal banners as well as the Fallen banner, a Legendary (m!Alear), and 2024's sole non-FEH Mythic (Lumera).

Now that all the major non-DLC characters are in Heroes, I expect that Engage will be quietly shuffled down to getting just one New Heroes banner per year from here on out. There are still some big ticket options left to add - base Yunaka and Goldmary, most notably - but IS isn't going to want to race through those too quickly especially with no new games currently on the horizon. Engage is doing very well with regular seasonal appearances though, and with the DLC taken into account it could easily supply literal years' worth of Fallen units, so unlike just about every other mainline game it's still got plenty of options. Most notably it appears to be slowly taking over Houses's previously solid dominance of the summer and winter banners.

This isn't even mentioning the Emblem units, which are counted for their respective games but nonetheless owe credit to Engage as the first ever game to introduce a distinct unit type. Emblems have saved the flagging prospects of the end-of-month 8% banners, providing an excuse for broken alts of already popular characters and filling in for the greatly-depleted mainline options for Legendary and Mythic units. The only new Legendaries this year were male Avatars - Alear, Corrin, and Shez - and as mentioned only one of 2024's Mythics didn't come from FEH itself, so you know they're getting to the bottom of the barrel. Also, Emblems Celica and Sigurd just so happen to be the sole additions from their respective games this year...which is disappointing, but not terribly surprising. At the rate IS is going it'll be late 2026 before they even have to consider adding DLC Emblems or "backpack" Emblems (ex. Ephraim), much less having to come up with anything genuinely original. Although they've got plenty of that going on as well...

Gacha Waifus Galore (Also Men Sometimes)

Second place this year went to Heroes's own characters, adding 24 new units. FEH has been gradually subsidizing more and more of its roster with its OCs, with each year adding more reasons to showcase them whenever possible. Each main story book now brings with it multiple new characters that predominantly take up Mythic slots, there are the Tempest Trial stories bringing in a new type of premium alt every year, around half of the year's New Heroes banners get supplemented with an OC, and certain seasonal themes like New Year's and summer are all but guaranteed to feature Heroes units. FEH units actually had an even wider spread in 2024 than Engage, appearing in every month of the year except February.

Perhaps the most noteworthy new Heroes character this year was Eikþyrnir - arguably the closest we've ever gotten to a straightforward male fanservice character, even if he still pales in comparison to the likes of most FEH waifus like the notoriously censored-on-YouTube Mythic Loki also released this year. December brought further surprises on that score, with the bara deer guy getting a seasonal alt less than half a year after his initial release (a Tempest Trial reward, granted, but it's still something) and, even more shockingly, the first ever male new book character unless you count Alfonse for Book I. Rune may be a prepubescent boy obviously voiced by a woman, but...baby steps, I guess. IS still sucks at male fanservice, just to be clear, but at least it's a tiny bit of variety.

Of course, as the mainline games' available rosters continue to dwindle and as IS continues to drag its feet on announcing any new games, they're naturally going to rely on FEH OCs more and more. The other games have a fixed number of fanservice options, but Heroes waifus are theoretically infinite in number.

The Old Titans, Neck and Neck

Tied at a distant third were Awakening and Three Houses/Hopes, at 13 new units apiece, with Fates just behind them at 12. Despite the similar totals, each of these three formerly overrepresented games came out of 2024 in a very different position:

With the addition of summer Vaike, FE13 is the first game in the series to have its entire playable roster available in FEH in some form. That naturally bodes ill for its New Heroes prospects, but between Vaike, Kellam, Noire, and assorted premium alts IS should still be able to squeeze out two or three more over the coming years. Of these three games Awakening is the one up for a reappearance the soonest, so I'd expect some real blood-from-a-stone shenanigans sometime in the first half of 2025. On an unrelated but quite ridiculous note, Chrom showed up as a Duo backpack twice this year, once for child f!Robin and once for ninja Lucina. The Awakening child banner was also notable as the first time that seasonal theme was given to a modern game, so anticipate more of those in the future.

Fates hit 150 units in 2024, solidifying its spot at the top of the FEH heap yet again. Its roster is by far the largest of these three games and is in a sense the largest of any mainline game (Radiant Dawn and New Mystery are bigger, but each of them shares a significant number of characters with another game), so it can field a fair number of new offerings even after all this time. Since FE14 is one of several games that typically alternates generations, look out for a Gen 2 banner in the middle of 2025 sporting Sophie and/or Mitama along with a premium alt and a random guy or two. Fates doesn't have much to worry about, all things considered.

Controversially, 2024 was Three Houses's worst year since its release. It also got 13 units when it debuted in 2019 - but bear in mind that those all came out within the last six months of that year, and that two of the units it got in 2024 were player-chosen. It's easy to understand why; after years of getting pushed hard in seasonals and multiple years of double New Heroes banners, Fódlan has very little left to give. In terms of base units it's just the unpopular half of the Golden Deer plus various non-student characters, and of those only Leonie, Manuela, and (if we care to count her) Houses Anna are female. Of course there will be premium units - I fully expect we'll get lazy Hopes alts of the house leaders at some point - and the occasional smattering of seasonal alts that haven't been done yet, but the pickings are getting increasingly slim. Also worth noting is that Houses last got a New Heroes banner in October, so it's possible that its next one may get bumped back to 2026. The scandal!

Tellius Got a Surprise Upset

In years past the Tellius games, which have substantial roster overlap between them, have alternated annual appearances. Not so in June of 2024, where we not only got a Radiant Dawn banner for the second year in a row but further got a book midpoint banner without a Heroes OC on it - but with two premium alts in Micaiah and Sothe, lest you think IS missed out on an opportunity to attract whales. Technically FE9 got only three new units this year, all of them on the Hoshidan festival seasonal in August. FE10 even poached Emblem Ike somehow!

All told, the Tellius games claimed 12 new units. Will Path of Radiance finally get a chance to shine again in 2025? Seeing as laguz characters are universally grouped in with Radiant Dawn, the game only has Calill left for female characters...along with a predictably large number of male characters most of which will be extremely lucky to ever see the light of day. FE10 has significantly more female options available (including Calill as well) even now, so how Tellius will be handled going forward seems like a tossup.

Archanea and the GBA Games Have Almost Played Out Their Hands

FE7 and FE8 came in just behind with 11, while FE6 trailed with 8 and Archanea collectively with 7. Again, it's the dearth of female units that impedes these titles the most, because those are the only ones that IS believes sells once all the plot-relevant male characters have been exhausted. Archanea has three spread across its two stories, while each of the GBA games went into 2024 with only a single female unit left. Binding Blade and Sacred Stones held theirs (Elen and Ismaire, respectively), but Blazing Blade turned Vaida into a Grand Hero Battle unit of all things presumably because she's too butch to be a target for whales.

At least the structure of future New Heroes banners for all these games is fairly clear: counterbalance the random male units almost no one cares about with Heroes OCs and premium alts, most of which can be busty waifus. Archanea will come up in the order by the summer, but it'll probably be a while before we see the GBA games again. At least Sacred Stones remained a seasonal darling even after blowing through its entire popular roster over successive summer banners, taking 2024's Valentine's banner and in general showing no signs of slowing down with relentlessly pushing alts for the same half dozen units over and over and over and...

IS Remembered that Thracia Exists!

It's a testament to how used to disappointment Jugdral fans are that I'm still satisfied by the setting's turnout in 2024. FE5 got its first New Heroes banner in nearly two years last January, which still delights me just because it means that IS hasn't completely forgotten about the game. Good thing too, because on account of being chronically neglected Thracia and to a lesser extent Genealogy are relatively well-positioned with new unit options. FE5 still has six unused female characters!

I fully expect not to see Thracia in 2025, but Genealogy is up for a New Heroes banner soon - probably Gen 1, given alternating patterns. Thus there's little chance of my underrated fave Diarmuid making an appearance next year, but one solid showing from FE4 would be enough for me. (Also a few seasonal units wouldn't kill them?)

So there you have it. Most games not named Thracia or Engage are running on fumes, but between the handful of remaining gaps in the roster and the ever-present Heroes OCs I have every confidence that IS will be able to soldier on through at least one more year without a new FE release. After that...I'd imagine things will start getting dicey.

[innumerable-stars]

The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun Promo Post

(written by Zdenka)

Summary The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrún is a set of two narrative poems by Tolkien based on stories from Norse mythology: Völsungakviða en nýja (The New Lay of the Völsungs) and Guðrúnarkviða en nýja (The New Lay of Gudrún). Despite their Norse titles, these poems are in English, composed in alliterative verse.

Like The Silmarillion, "The New Lay of the Völsungs" begins with the creation of the world. It then follows the descent of the legendary Völsung family, ending with Sigurd the Dragonslayer. The poem recounts Sigurd's heroic deeds and the complicated entanglements of oaths, love, and betrayal that develop between Sigurd, the former Valkyrie Brynhild, the warrior lord Gunnar, and Gunnar's sister Gudrún.

"The New Lay of Gudrún" continues the story of Gudrún after Sigurd's murder: her grief for Sigurd, her second marriage to Atli (a mythologized version of Attila the Hun), the trap Atli lays for Gudrún's brothers, and the terrible fate of Atli and Gudrún's children.

Why Should I Check Out This Canon? It's a dramatic story of heroism, torn loyalties, fate, love, and hatred! If you enjoy those themes in Tolkien's other works, you'll find them here too.

If you've enjoyed Norse myths or other versions of the Sigurd story, you might also like this one.

If you liked Tolkien's poetry in The Lord of the Rings or the Lays of Beleriand, here's another hoard of it. He makes writing alliterative verse look easy.

You also get a look at some of the sources for Tolkien's Middle-earth works. I don't mean only the plot elements that have been noted by many literary critics, such as the similarities of Túrin's dragon-slaying adventure to Sigurd's. Having these legends in Tolkien's own words can help show the connections he made in his own mind between Norse legend and his Legendarium. Taking just one stanza as an example:

The Gods gathered on golden thrones, of doom and death deeply pondered, how fate should be fended, their foes vanquished, their labour healed, light rekindled.

That sounds a lot like the Valar in the Silmarillion, doesn't it? And there are plenty more resemblances to find.

Where Can I Get This? Your local bookstore or library, or the Internet Archive.

What Fanworks Already Exist? There is one work in Russian on AO3, a fic cross-tagged with the Silmarillion; I don't know Russian, but it seems to be a darker take on the Beren and Lúthien story. (The AO3 tag is here.)

One work from b2mem here, a recording of four stanzas from "The New Lay of the Völsungs" set to music and sung. Full Disclosure: This one is by me.

In other words, if you want to create fanworks for this, the field is wide open!

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Sigurd would include:

Dating him is a thrilling experience. He is an adventurous and passionate man, who will take you on wild adventures and sweep you off your feet. His confidence and drive are contagious and his charisma can be alluring. He is a true gentleman who will treat you with respect and dignity. However, he is also a fierce warrior who will protect you at all costs.

On one hand, he has the experience and wisdom of over a thousand years to draw upon. He's also confident and bold, which can be very attractive. The downside is, he has a lot of baggage. He's been through a lot, and he can be a bit unpredictable. All in all, it's an adventure to be sure, but one that is worth it!

He is a fair and loyal person, and people know nothing but peace and happiness if you don't cross them. He would be a good husband to you, with many children and with respect towards you. In short, he wouldn't hurt you even if his life depended on it.

He will protect you as his queen and protect you and your kingdom. He will also be a great father to your children, to mold them into honorable and great men. And also, he will also respect your decisions and he will keep your council private at all times.

He brings you flowers just because he thought you'd like them.

He would always make sure that you're happy and safe, that you don't have to worry about anything. You both would live a simple life in the heartland of Norway and spend the winters together, sitting in front of the fireplace and watching the kids play outside in the snow. That's how he would imagine it.

He would be faithful to you, your beauty would only increase his love towards you, and the best part, he would only have eyes for you.

He would never leave you for another, he already knows that no one is more special than you, and every other person would appear dull in comparison, he would not be a jealous person, but if someone started talking and looking to you for too long and made you uncomfortable, he would let them know to keep their distance.

He would write poems and songs for you, with his most cherished memories of you, and your future plans. He would write you songs and poems every day with the most sacred feelings within his heart. He would also always be there for you, no matter how small or big the issue, he would comfort you, and assure you that he is there with you in every step you take. His biggest joy would always be being with you and seeing you smile.

He would be gentle and loving towards you, always having your needs in the first place. He would show his love in many ways, he would hug you when feeling bad, kiss you randomly, hug you from behind while you cook, and caress your hair. He would give you little attention like bringing you snacks and small gifts.

A very exciting and interesting experience. Being with a man such as himself can be quite a privilege. He is strong, capable and he commands respect. However, this is not to say that he is without flaws. He can be stubborn at times and he often finds himself in situations where his decisions leave others frustrated or angry. But, on the whole, being in a relationship with him is an experience you will never forget.

He's kind and strong, but also passionate and intense. He's always ready to take on new challenges and he never backs down from a fight. Being with him means never knowing what adventure might come next.

Dating him is like dating any other person. You go on dates (walks, picnics, etc.), you cuddle, you laugh, you have intellectual conversations, you cook, you make love. It's just that when dating him, you're dating a legendary Viking warrior, and that changes the dynamics a bit.

He is a gentleman in every way, he treats you with respect and compassion. He will never be unfaithful to the loved one he is with. He is strong and courageous, but also sensitive and vulnerable. His heart is true to the one he is with. He is honest and faithful, loyal and devoted. He is strong enough to protect his loved one, but also kind and protective. He can be fun and lighthearted, but also serious and thoughtful. He is a real treasure.

He has a thing for teasing and loves it when you take over and tease him in the bedroom, making sure he begs and pleads for it until you let him finally release the tension.

He also has a thing for exhibitionism and loves the idea of being watched or having sex in front of a mirror.

He likes to switch it up and be the submissive one sometimes, letting you take control and lead the way.

He also enjoys having you perform for him and put on a sexy show, including showing off your body for him and seducing him with your moves.

He likes you to be a little possessive and jealous, wanting him all to yourself, like a cat marking their territory with a soft bite or a gentle scratch.

Most of all, he likes knowing his partner is enjoying themselves and that he's making you feel good.

[lunarblessingart]

My first completely original emblem design belongs to Seliph!

I knew as soon as I'd finished the Rivals ring design (which still hasn't gone up yet as of writing this post) that I'd want to do Emblem Rings for characters that weren't emblems at all eventually; so now that I've done a few, here's Seliph, inspired loosely by a fanfic series that will be linked at the bottom of the post.

Although I do have to confess that I've never actually *played* Genealogy/FE4 or Thracia 776/FE5, so I'm not the most educated on Seliph as a character. Which isn't new, I haven't played Shadow Dragon or enough of Awakening to really know Tiki that well either, but this became a problem with Seliph when I realized that he doesn't really have a lot of easy, distinguishable character design traits to choose from.

I did eventually find that Seliph's legendary alt in Heroes had a good number of four-pointed stars (something he shares with Sigurd's alts) as well as a pattern that curled in a way that loosely resembled vines (which is present in the design of Deirdre's alts, particularly legendary), so I ended up trying my best to incorporate both of those things here.

I might make one for Julia eventually, since she was one of my favorite units when I still played Heroes, but I still want to make more AA visions, so the emblems will probably end up on the backburner for at least a bit, especially as my fire emblem brainrot starts to slowly die down again.

To end this post, here's that fic I promised: