#ragnarson x reader

[multific]

The Mistress of The Devil

Ivar the Boneless x DarkWitch!Reader

Warnings: mention of witchcraft, demons

Summary: Dark clothes, dark aura and powers. Where you came from, or who you were, not even Aslaug was sure anymore. All she could recall is that she promised to wed her son to you. And now, the Devil had a wife.

"I said you will marry her and this is the last I want to hear anything from you Ivar!" hearing his mother yell, Ivar knew, he lost this battle.

He was to marry this unknown woman.

He hated the idea.

Ivar will just simply kill her, he needs no wife.

He said, but the next day, just when Kattegat woke up, there stood a woman.

She was dressed in a black, her smile was kind, too kind for someone dressed so dark.

"My name is Y/N. I came for my wedding."

Everyone was confused. Aslaug ended up showing you around and introducing you to your future husband.

Ivar Ragnarson.

A strong man with an even stronger will. His legs were the proof of it. He never backed down, not letting anything get in his way.

You liked it.

The determination. The fire.

It is just what you need in a husband.

You smiled at Ivar as you two were wed.

Now, you had him.

---

Everyone knew the name Ivar the Boneless. Everyone feared Ivar the Boneless.

The fearless Viking known for his intelligence and insanity.

But then, a whisper came with the wind.

A whisper of his wife.

A woman, explained as the Darkness herself.

The Christians referred to her as Satan's Wife. 

Would that make Ivar Satan in their logic?

Everyone wondered how could Ivar be so fearless, how could he know so much.

The answer was simple, his wife.

You, with your powers inherited throughout the generations of women in your family.

You, the dark sorceress who fell madly in love with a not so simple Viking.

It was always you.

People who survived Ivar's wrath often said it was as if he had a dark figure standing behind him. The figure was tall, and had long arms and eyes that glow red like blood.

Overexadiration, but not far from the truth.

One of your many beings. 

Sentenced to follow and help Ivar in his fights, the being didn't have a name. It was simply black and tall.

Ivar swore sometimes he could see it from the corner of his eye.

It made him recall a time when he first saw one of your... pets.

It was very late, the fire has nearly gone out, both of you sleeping under furs.

Ivar woke, his mind fuzzy with sleep when he saw someone or rather something in the corner. 

But as his eyes focused and he woke up with a start, the thing vanished.

"What is it, Ivar?" you asked, being awakened from your slumber.

"I saw someone." you looked at the corner he kept on staring at.

"I will deal with it, sleep now." you smiled at him as you stood up and walked towards the entrance of the house.

Ivar followed you, crawling as you opened the door, his words failed him.

You stood a couple steps from the door, looking towards the darkness. You turned to your left, then to your right. As if you saw someone you spoke up, just as Ivar found his way towards the doorway.

"Let him sleep! You are scaring him, I told you before." you said, to him it looked like you have gone mad, then you turned to him. "I told you before, they wouldn't hurt you, don't be afraid of them, Ivar." you said and Ivar swore he saw something move to his right. He quickly looked and saw a pair or long fingers on the wall, the... thing right around the corner, Ivar felt frozen.

Then he saw it.

The face of a being, not human. Illuminated by the light coming from the window, Ivar's pair of blues met with black eyes and skin so pale, Ivar never seen anything like it before.

"It won't hurt you." you said with a lower voice as you watched Ivar. He then looked back at you, you saw his confusion. "They won't hurt you." you said once more and this time, Ivar believed you.

But never after that night did he ever want to see any of your creatures.

---

You were a rather light sleeper. 

There were occasions when nothing could wake you, and other times where a simple movement from Ivar made you wake up. This was one of those nights.

You were awakened by his simple movement, you couldn't fall back to sleep and so, you decided to just sit by the fire and watch it and Ivar.

Ivar woke up hours later, it was still dark outside and he looked at you.

"Are your demons haunting you again, Wife?"

"Quite the opposite, My King. I'm haunting them." you smirked and Ivar moved to the edge of the bed. 

You stood up and stood still a couple steps away from him.

"What would you do for me, Ivar?" you asked and he looked into your eyes.

"I would burn the entire world. Kill every last person just to get to you. Kill every last demon just to have you with me again." you moved onto the floor, crawling over, you placed your hands on his knees.

"Would you run for me?" you watched his eyes switch. 

You offended him.

You corrected yourself.

"If I give you the ability, would you run to me, run to save me, run to kill them? Would you?"

"C-Can you?" he asked, eyes filling with hope.

And you nodded.

A simple nod.

"Will it hurt?" came his next question.

Another nod.

"It would be worth it. Standing beside you, as the proud husband I am. Run to you? Without a question." he ran his fingers through your hair.

You sealed your deal with a kiss.

---

Everyone in Kattegat woke up with a feeling of dread.

Then they all saw.

Ivar walking around like nothing happened, as if his legs always worked.

The Devil could walk.

And it terrified everyone.

They only could imagine what his enemies would think, given how his own people were terrified of him. 

His brother always knew Ivar's wife wasn't a regular woman. They had this feeling about her, as they said, there was a darkness around her.

And upon seeing their brother walk, there was no more doubt about it.

She made him walk.

So, was is actually that Ivar married the Devil? Would it actually be the Devil and her husband?

One thing was for sure, now whenever someone looked into the dark of your eyes, they could hear people crying and begging.

And just like with many names in history, yours and Ivar's were eventually melted into one.

It was no longer Ivar the Boneless and his wife.

Soon, all people remembered was the fierce Viking, Ivar the Boneless.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS 

[avalilsbfss]

Ivar the boneless - be quiet 18+ (request)

Anonymous: ”Hello! I’ve read your Ivar short and I was wondering if you could do an ivar smut? I don’t really have any ideas for it but i was thinking a puplic thing… if your up for it.

Because ivar is so abjfcbtscb 😫🤭”

Ivar x partner!reader

Warnings: SMUT, fingering, public fingering. No orgasm

Description: you started flirting with Hvitserk to make ivar jealous and it wasn’t well received.

P.s: Idk what point it the series this is set so just go with it.

Ivar watched as you laughed at Hvitserks terrible joke. Why the hell were you laughing?.

You and ivar had an argument last night and honesty neither of you could remember what it was about.

You were obviously flirting with Hvitserk and you were doing it to annoy ivar. Ivar was sitting next to you while Hvitserk sat across from you both the table In between you two

You weren’t really acknowledging Ivar until you felt his large hand on your thigh.

You snapped your head over to him and he just looked away, you shook your head and just continued to talk with Hvitserk, trying to ignore his touch.

Ivars fingers worked slowly to scrunch your dress up to your thigh, causing your breath to hitch.

Your dress was scrunched up to your thigh and Ivar had was running along the bare skin. Merely brushing over the mound behind your undergarments causing you squeeze your legs together tightly.

Hvitserk gave you a look and you cleared your throat and apologised, and as you did Ivar gently circled your clit over the fabric of you panties.

You could only feel the light teasing pressure against your clit, causing you to desperately move your hips to feel more. And ivar smirked to himself

Ivar pushed your panties to the side and slipped a thick finger through your slick, you let out a shaky sigh and tried to save face

He gently circled your clit and rolled it between his two middle fingers causing you to press your lips tightly together to. You almost chocked on your drink when he slipped a finger inside you and curled it in a come hither motion. Ivar smirked and started to thrust his finger in and out and you gripped your cup tightly as Hvitserk refilled it.

Ivar slipped in another finger and moved his hand faster, you leaned over to ivar and whispered “ivar stop it” you whispered desperately.

Ivar smirked and shrugged and simply slipped out his fingers leaving you empty.

Hii! Feel free to give me suggestions i write for, Peaky Blinders, HOTD, GoT and Vikings trust me I’m very excited for new suggestions all are welcome <3 (all so check out my master list if you wanna)

Masterlist

[chubbgal]

Okay, so, monthly obsession? Sihtric Kjartanson, that's it, that's the post.

If you know some good Shitric/the last kingdom writers, let me know, I need to satisfy my need for that man.

[imaginesmai]

Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson

Enemies to lovers, forced-marriage and based on the Disney movie The Swan princess. Here is what is probably the work I’m proudest of. Things you need to know before reading:

- As a medieval fic, there will be typical misoginist behaviours, racisims at some points and stereotypes. 

- In this fic, Ubbe is from Mercia, not a viking, but a prince. His whole family is ruling that country, while yours rules over Wessex.

- Ivan doesn’t exist. I had to erase a brother for the plot I’M SORRY.

- It hasn’t been proof-read. So, if you find any mistake, please let me know!

Ubbe Ragnarson knew three things: that he would inherit the throne when his father died, that he should get married soon to assure that throne, and that he hated Y/N Ealhmunding. And those three facts were related. Because your hand had been promised to him since you were young kids, and now it’s time to fulfill that promise.

As princess of king Ecbert Ealhmunding, you also knew three things: that the laws for a kingdom ruler weren’t fair, that your father had done everything he could for you and your future, and that you hated Ubbe Ragnarson. Not only you hated that they had decided your future without you, or that you were expected to leave every braincell behind once you married, but also that the same boy who you had hated since childhood would be your husband.

Every summer, Mercia and Wessex try to make you both fall in love. And they fail.

But this summer is different, because a series of tragic and unfortunate events brings you closer to Ubbe than ever.

You’re no longer mischievous kids pulling pranks on each other, but responsible adults looking for what’s best for your country. And trying to survive in the meantime.

Preface:  Ubbe and you meet for the first time, foreshadowing what your relationship is going to be like.

1st part:  Just like any other summer, you have to leave your country. Just like any other summer, Ubbe has to open his to your annoying presence.

2nd part:  your sixteenth-first encounter goes as good as planned.

3rd part:  Aslaug tries to push you closer to Ubbe, leaving you in a vulnerable situation. When faced with a group of soldiers, they don't hesitate to make their opinion about you crystal clear.

4rd part:  The soldiers’ attitude forces your father to make a decision, and you finally see an end to your engagement. Only that, when presented with the chance, you’re not so sure.

5th part:  No longer under the pressure of an arranged marriage and with the hunting raid around the corner, you can almost taste your freedom. But something new awakens and neither Ubbe and you know how to deal with it.

6th part:  The morning of the hunting raid arrives, and new feelings are revealed.

7th part:  Ubbe and you take important decisions, about your future and the future of your kingdoms, not knowing that something bigger than you is happening outside the castle’s walls.

8th part:  tragedy strikes when you least expect it.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

[hvitserkmarcosource]

Could he get any cuter??

[hc-geralt-23]

Masterlist

I don't write smut. I will write for what ever person or character you would like just let me know who and give me a brief scenario and i will try my best to write it.

Feel Free to request. For any of the following and if you want one for anyone not posted let me know.

My main Fandom are Sam And Colby, Matt Smith, House of The Dragon, Henry Cavill, The Walking Dead, The last of us, Game Of Thrones, The Hobbit, Lord of the rings, The Vampire Diaries, Vikings, marvel, DC, Twilight, The Witcher, and The Last Kingdom.

House of the Dragon

Daemon Targeryan

A Kingdom of Our Own

Daemon Targeryan Love Story

Love Across The Houses

UPDATED VERSION Love Across The Houses

Dragon Riders: A Tale Of Forbidden Love

A Tale of Elven Love and Dragon's Flame

"Solace in an Embrace"

Aemond Targeryan

"Deceived by Love: The Tale of Prince Aemond and the Commoner Dragon Rider"

The Last Of Us

Joel Miller

Redemption's Embrace: A Last of Us Tale

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

 Eclipsed Hearts: A Tale of Redemption and Resilience. Second ending

Broken Promises

Chasing The Light

Love Amidst Harsh Truths

Red Dead Redemption 2

Arthur Morgan

Eternal Bonds

The Vampire Diaries

Damon Salvatore

Damon Salvatore and Elena's Older Sister

The Messy Love Triangle of Stefan, Sarah, and Damon

Vikings

Ubbe Lothbrok

The Soulmate Dilemma

Bjorn Ironside

The Soulmate Dilemma

Ivar The Boneless

The Betrayal Of Ivar The Boneless

Love and Power colliding

Ragnarsons

Brother in Blood

Halfdan The Black

A Prince's Sacrifice for His Princess

King Harald Finehair

The Viking King and the Shieldmaiden: A Tale of Love, Courage, and Perseverance.

The Walking Dead

Daryl Dixon

The Clumsy Love

No Questions Asked

Redemption's Trail Part 1 Part 2

Tormented Hearts Part 1 Part 2

Negan Smith

Tormented Hearts Part 1 Part 2

Sam And Colby

Colby Brock

Guardians of the Enchanted Grove

The Christmas Redemption

Twilight

Jasper Hale

The Hobbit

Marvel

DC

The Witcher

Geralt of rivia

Destined Bonds: The Dragon and The Witcher

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

The Dragon and the Witcher: A Tale of Love and Destiny

Updated The Dragon And The Witcher: A Tale of Love and Destiny

The Last Kingdom

Again i don't write smut. I will write for what ever person or character you would like just let me know who and give me a brief scenario and i will try my best to write it.

[ravenofthefandoms]

The Path of the Bear

Word Count: 2690 (nice)

Pairing: Leofric x Reader

Characters: Leofric of Wessex, Uthred Ragnarson/Uthred of Bebbanburg (brief), Mildreth (brief), Iseult (mentioned), King Peredur (mentioned)

A/N: First TLK post! They gave us a sassy, badass warrior that is absurdly large and slightly too old for me and since that’s exactly my type, I had to write about him. I want to make this a series as well, but I’m gonna start my Beric request after this and then my modern!Aemond fic/series to be hopefully. Also also, there’s a Grenn x reader sitting in my drafts rn. FYI, in this one I use italics for thoughts, which is new for me, so tell me if you like it! Also, I mention Grian who is, according to my five minute on Google, a Celtic/pre-Christian goddess of the sun, and specifically the winter sun. Since reader is Iseult’s sister in this, I imagine she would be a pagan, just not a Danish one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned. They belong to Bernard Cornwell and the producers of The Last Kingdom. I do not own any gifs used. They belong to their original creators.

The farmstead you had been camping near for the past few weeks was quiet. There was only one man who you ever saw near the house, and sometimes a woman was with him. Workers tended the fields and took care of the animals nearby, but they were always too busy with their daily chores to notice. You did not necessarily need to hide yourself well, typically just spending your days in the woods foraging or hunting if you could and your nights sleeping in the barn on the grounds. Once the workers all left for home after their day, the farmstead was empty save for the animals you roomed with.

It was not luxury and it was nothing like the life you grew up with. The life you had up until two months ago almost felt like a sweet dream. There was much of it you missed, like your sister and a day filled with nothing but chores and gossip. Then your sister left, married off to some king in Cornwalum for her skills as a gwarch. A mother’s gift, as your own mother called it. Something she inherited from her mother, who received it from her mother, and so on. Only you did not receive it. Your older sister, Iseult, did and she was quite powerful. Her bride price was very valuable, more valuable than you could have ever dreamed of bringing to your family. That did not stop your father’s efforts. It took two more years for him to find someone who would pay a good bride price for you. The day he told you that he found you a husband was the day you ran.

The bleating of the ewe drew you from your thoughts. A small smile formed on your lips as she stared at you, annoyed that you were laying in one of her favorite spots. You could not blame her. The hay was a nest, keeping you comfortable. “I can make room for you, but I will not move.”

Scooting over, you grinned and patted the ground next to you, as though she could understand your jest. Instead, the ewe seemed to glare at you before settling down in another little nest on the other side. Shaking your head, you settled back down into your little nest of hay before closing your eyes and drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

                                                             —

You awoke early, as you have done everyday since you started sleeping in the barn. The workers woke early too, so you needed to leave the barn before any discovered you in your attempts to hold the sheep. 

The trek back into the forest was quick, your surroundings becoming easier for you to manuever. Your first stop was the brook that ran through the country side. The cold water helped to pull you from the last of your sleep, waking you completely. You wanted to bathe soon, but you had not followed the brook far enough to find a spot deep enough. Instead, you began to forage for food, checking the traps you had set, smiling to yourself when two of your traps had successfully captured two rabbits. Two was too much to eat for just one meal but it would be just fine if you cooked them both now. Starting a fire later would not be smart, the workers on their way home would be more likely to see it.

                                                            —

Night begins to fall, watching from a ridge as workers began to go home. Once they were all gone, you snuck your way into the barn quickly, the final rays of sunlight twinkling through the trees. The sheep and the cows were in their stalls, along with a few new horses. You looked through a crack in the wall towards the hut. There was light coming from the house, but you did not worry. Surely it was just the lord and his wife who lived here. 

It was easy to shrug it off as you made your way to a spot towards the back of the barn, where you could watch the doors with ease. As you tore into your rabbit, your mind drifted back to the last days you had with your sister. 

You had wept as your elder sister held you, learning that she was leaving soon, and you were not prepared for the separation. Though you were 18 years old at the time, she was the only one who took care of you, loved you. She was always so gentle with you and always understanding. When her gifts came to her, she became your family’s jewel. Your parents preened over her constantly, your mother nurturing your sister’s gift. The work paid off and your sister’s abilities were soon sought after. It was a long time before they were sold. During that time, your sister taught you what she could, more about healing and herbs than seeing. When she did go into the woods to see, you went with her. Silence was kept between you, but you helped her as much as you could.

The last thing she said to you will always ring through your ears. “We will meet again, sweet sister.” She tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “But you cannot marry, not who father chooses. You simply need follow the bear. He will bring you back to me.” You nodded through your sniffles, holding onto her as tightly as you could. Moonlight shone on the two of you, raven hair shimmering beneath it. 

Two years later and you still had not found the bear that was meant to lead you. Though you were also not entirely sure how a bear would take you to your sister. Nonetheless, you trusted her sight and would be ready to follow.

The creak of the barndoor snapped you from your reverie. A tall shadow appeared and you cursed, scrambling to a stall. The resting cow looked up at you, lowing  as you approached in a crouch. You held your breath, drawing the dagger that you had tied to your waist. “Who’s in here?” A deep voice called, the signature hiss of a sword drawn from its sheath following, “I saw you. Come back out.” You cursed again before swinging out again, taking a low stance with your blade.

The man was much closer than you expected, with a torch sitting in a sconce between you. The flickering light revealed the scarred, though quite handsome, face of a very tall man. “What are you doing here?” His blade was level, though he did not appear to be very worried.

“Sleeping. The sheep make good company.” He scoffed at your answer. “What are you doing here?” You straightened slightly from your stance, trying to relax the tension. It was quite obvious to you that this bear of a man would have no trouble disarming you, let alone killing you. But there was still a chance you could talk your way out of it.

“The same, by invitation of the lord of this farmstead. Don’t think I can say the same for you,” he stated. You answered only with a shrug. “If I put away my blade, you will as well.” It was not a question, but you nodded your agreement anyways. He began to sheath his sword and you rose, putting your own blade away. “Been here long? Seem to know the locals quite well.” He nodded to the barn animals who had returned to their resting.

Another shrug from you. “A few months. They cried when I tried to leave.” He chuckled at that, looking you up and down.

“What’s your name?” You turned to look at the ground where the rest of your rabbit laid, tossed in your panic to hide. A beat of silence as you picked it up, brushing the hay and dirt from it before taking another bite.

“So many questions. I thought Saxons were supposed to be Christians and gentlemen.” You held out the rabbit to him, a peace offering. Despite having already eaten himself, he accepted.

“I’m deciding if I should tell the lord that you are here. He is not happy, and I do not think you would wish to cross paths with him this night.” There was a small twinkle of mirth in his eyes despite the serious sound of his words.

“(Y/N). Of Cornwalum. You?” He raised a brow. A Briton was not something he had expected to see in Liscumb but here you stood. 

“Leofric of Wessex. Can’t save I’ve met a Briton before.” He tossed the rabbit back to you before moving to sit in what looked to be a decently comfortable pile of hay. “How’d you get out here?” 

You finished the last bit of rabbit before tossing it into one of the back corners of the barn. “I walked, mostly. Ran a little bit. Even got to ride a horse for a while. Though the horse and the running were on the same day.” He chuckled at the mischievous grin on your face. “What is a warrior of Wessex doing sleeping in his lord’s barn?”

Leofric’s eyes followed you as you paced slowly, more out of boredom than nerves. He couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. Here you were, silver-tongued and beautiful, with full hips that were hugged by the pants you wore and alluring eyes that seemed to call to him from the very depths of his soul. For a man like Leofric, you were a sight to feast on. Though a God-fearing man, the ancient and arcane feeling that washed through him when he met your eyes had him questioning. “It’s my lord’s wedding night.” He smirked at you slightly. “I cannot say that I wish to be privy to it.” His eyes flicked back up after their southward expansion when you stopped, sights locking on each other. There was a beat of pregnant pause.

“Then do not worry, Leofric of Wessex. You shall have a silent night to rest.” A twinkle mirroring his own caused the great warrior’s heart to falter a moment. Though not entirely unfamiliar, the stutter was not something he had felt in quite a long time. With a final small smirk gracing your lips, you slipped into one of the nearby stalls where you were met with a small bleat of an ewe. “I told you, they missed me.” A soft chuckle was met to that.

“If you are to hold the sheep for warmth, then whom should I?” His flirtatious words made you grin, though he could not see it.

You responded without missing a beat. “The cow seemed lonely.” He gave another bark of laughter at this, and you couldn’t help the small laugh you let out. Laying down, you made yourself cozy in the bed of hay. Snow was falling that night, and a freezing wind blew through the cracks of the barn. A shiver ran through your body as you tucked your knees into your chest, another attempt to keep the warm in. After a while of silence, you were able to finally fall into blissful sleep.

                                                            —

Grian emerged from her slumber and the early rays of her light began to illuminate the sky. Your eyes fluttered open with a yawn following quickly. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes before rising quietly. Soft snores carried from the other side of the barn, affirming that the man from last night, Leofric, was still in the barn though sound asleep. With a final stretch, you stood and made your way out of the stall. Leofric leaned against the wall in the same place as last night, his head fallen to the side in his slumber. A soft giggle escaped your lips as you looked down at him. Such soft and small noises from a man so big were nothing short of amusing. 

Quickly and quietly, you slipped from the barn. The gray dawn of morning held the chill of the long winter night. Soon, you were free, traipsing through the woods as you began your day.

                                                            —

It wasn’t long after you left before Leofric woke. In fact, the soft knock of the barndoor closing was what roused him. It took a moment for him to truly wake, but when he did, he shot to his feet. Leofric took a few partially stumbling steps towards the door before yanking it open. To his dismay, you had disappeared before he could call out your name. The slight ache in his heart had nothing to do, he told himself, with the fact that you left before saying goodbye or anything else. 

With a sigh, he shut the barndoor again and leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes as he waited for the fog within his head to abate. One breath, two and then he righted himself. She would have been a good hump, he thought to himself almost forlornly. Deciding to give no further thought to it, he exited the barn and started for the hut where he hoped to find something to break his fast.

                                                            —

The day passed as any other, Grian warming the sky as much as she could. Her journey across the sky was unmarked yet unchanged, descending the same as it had ascended. As night fell, Leofric thanked Mildreth for the dinner in his hands, ready to make his quick escape to the barn. Pale dusk began to settle outside and, standing in the doorway, he could’ve sworn he saw a figure disappear near the barn. The air in the room was a bit… tense between Mildreth and Uhtred, but not in the way they had been when he yelled at her the day before. This was the tenseness of a wedding night, and Leofric had no intentions to find out if he was right.

“You do not wish to sleep in the house, Leofric?” Mildreth inquired politely.

“No, lady. The sheep will be missing me.” Uhtred snorted with laughter, eying his friend mischeivously. 

“Taking extra with you tonight, Leofric?” There was a gleam in Uthred’s gaze that reminded Leofric of why he had wanted to knock a tooth or two out of the arseling’s gleeful smile when they first met. “Worked extra hard today, I hope.”

Leofric glared at the arseling, tilting his head at the playful challenge. “Aye lord, I did. So hard, in fact, that I think I deserve this as well.” The taller man grabbed the horn of ale from Uthred’s hands before taking a long swig. “Well, I’ll bid you good night lady, arseling.” He gave them a curt nod before making his way to the barn.

Opening the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see you sitting across from where he had slept. “Missed the sheep?” he questioned teasingly.

“Aye. The one in the back, I’ve decided to call her Veldicca. She has been too great of company for anything else.” You were lying, of course. What you should have done was find somewhere else, gone anywhere else, but you didn’t. You came right back to this barn, and the reason for your return was now sitting across from you. 

Leofric chuckled as he stretched out his long legs in front of him. Grabbing one of the extra chunks of bread that he had taken at dinner, he tossed it to you. “Have you been thinking of me, Leofric of Wessex?” A shiver ran down his spine at the teasing tone of your voice. 

“Not at all.” Lie. You have haunted my thoughts all day. “I was extra hungry tonight, but I will be a gentleman and share my food with the lovely lady.” He gave you a small wink, which only made you return it with a small smirk.

You opened your mouth for a retort when the barndoor opened. Startled, the both of you jumped to your feet, hands flying to the pommels of weapons. “Leofric, I wanted to tell yo-...” Uthred stood in the doorframe, his words faltering mid-sentence when his eyes landed on you. A confused and somewhat concerned look graced his features, eyes flicking between you and Leofric. “Who is this?”

[lady06reaper]

Requests you ask for 👀.

I shall give. Viking x Reader

Where said character(s) react to their wife having to defend their children from a bear/forest creature. And easily defeating it. Going from complete deadly killer to momma bear who's hugging her sweet children close.

Love a feral momma bear. - marshmellow

So I really only see this prompt as Bjorn and Ubbe with the kid part BUT since Ivar has a special place in my heart I'll write him with kids as well

HOW THE RAGNARSONS REACT TO YOU FENDING OFF A CRITTER TO SAVE YOUR CHILDREN

THIS IS THE LOOK YOU GET YOU AND YOU CHILDREN ARE STRUGGLING TO HAUL A BEAR CARCASS TO KATTEGAT

LIKE WHAT!?

Bjorn was definitely worried, like why was his beloved and their children carrying a dead bear? Are yall alright?!

"Wife! Are you okay? What happened?" Bjorn rose from his seat on the porch and ran over to you and your kin.

You huffed and threw the bear's head and front arms down to the ground, your kids followed suit and laid down on the ground with the dead bear.

"What happened, Bjorn, is that we were hunting and this foul, loathsome, lowlife, bear thought he could harm us. Jokes on it, we're having a feast tonight!" You roared so all of Kattegat could hear you, everyone around cheered in delight.

"That is quite a feat Y/N," Bjorn looked down at the bear and got a thought. He took your hand and led you up on the porch of the great hall, your children followed their dad up there with you. "Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my wife once more as Y/N Bear-Killer!" Bjorn raised your hand up with his as everyone celebrated and congratulated you. Your kids hugged your legs as their congratulations to you, you bent down and embraced them. Everyone, including the woodland critters, knew now not to mess with you, especially your children.

Out of the corner of Ubbe's eye he saw you and your children hauling a moose in a pull wagon... or at least trying to

First of all, you didn't have the pull wagon when you left so when did you come back and grab it?

Second, WHERE THE HELL DID THE DEAD MOOSE COME FROM?!

He had to do a double take on it to make sure it wasn't an illusion by the Trickster God Loki

"Love! What happened? Are you and the children alright?" You sighed and dropped the handles to the cart, the moose slid off of it to the ground. Your children were small enough to sit in the moose's antler, so sit they did, tired from helping their momma.

"I'm fine, nothing but a long soak with herbs won't fix. But this here moose is obviously not alright for it is dead, a punishment for attempting to hurt us," You stretched out your sore and tired muscles, that soak was really starting to sound good.

"Oh my brave, yet crazy wife, I'm glad you are alright, but when did you get the pull cart?"

"Oh that? We borrowed it from a farmer nearby, by the time we would've came here and back to the carcass it would've been already claimed by the wolves," you shrugged as if it was self-explanatory. You beckoned your kids over to you by kneeling and opening your arms, they ran towards you and as soon as they reached you, you picked them up in your arms. "Now, if you'll excuse me, your very strong children and I would like a bath and a nap. Go ahead and clean the moose, we feast tonight."

You turned on your heel and walked towards the long house, leaving a shocked Ubbe staring at your back. Did all of that really just happen?

I feel like Ivar would get horny if he knew you took down a huge ass wolf (which explains the second pic)

like the first one is "Wow, my wife took down that wolf, who's almost as big as Fenrir? Damn that's hot"

The wolf slung across your shoulders was heavy, but you had no other means of carrying it, and the pelt would make a nice cloak or blanket for your kin. You walked through Kattegat with your child in tow, they were concerned for your wellbeing, but you assured them you were fine. Ivar watched as you hauled the wolf up to the long house, not bothering to get up knowing you were as strong as Freyja. You dropped the wolf at his feet and fell into his open arms and lap.

" It seems you had an eventful hunt, love," Ivar wrapped his arms around your waist, but before he could get comfortable your child crawled up into your lap, it's a good thing Ivar can't feel your combined weight, only the presence.

"Yes, indeed we did, what do you think little one? Should we use the pelt as a blanket, or turn it into a cloak?" The child pondered before saying their answer. "Blanket it is then," you kissed their forehead and let them go. "Now run along and go get Uncle Bjorn, he'll help you turn the wolf into a nice blanket." You smiled as they slid down Ivars legs and ran to get Bjorn.

"Are you alright my love?" Ivar looked over your upper body as he rubbed circles into your lower back.

"Yes, husband, nothing like a good back massage won't fix," you leaned into his touch, being comforted by Ivar was definitely something you needed right now. Ivar gave you a mischievous look through his eyelashes.

"Instead of a massage," he started. "How about I break your back?"

[underscorewriting]

Hello !

How are you doing?

Could you make a one shot where your the ragnarsons little sister ( your 5 yrs old and ragnar and a witches daughter ) and they don't know you exist but you come with bjorn from a raid and you meet them andyou just capture everyones heart .

And you give hope to the people of kattegat because you are a powefull witch and they think you are a god

Maybe they find out your powers when you save someone from death with your powers?

Thank you!

Oh my god, I love that idea!! Sorry that it took me sooo long to write this, but here it is now!! ^^ I kinda changed it a bit, hopefully you don't mind too much!! :)

The lost daughter

Brother!Ragnarssons x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Sigurd being a dick, Angst?

Words: 2.414 (think this one's my longest story!!)

Emotions were all she ever knew. Bad ones, painful ones. She didn't understand why she felt them so intense, whenever something happened. People usually got hurt very badly if she got upset. A little girl that could kill people in the most torturous way possible, without even having to move a single finger or having the thought in mind.

The town she lived in always said that her "witch" of a mother was the reason behind this cursed child. They tried hurting her but she ran, she ran straight into a group of men. No not just men, women were there too. Women she couldn't help but stare at. None of the people in her town looked like them.

Her town was called Wessex, rumors were that in the earlier years, vikings have already been there, even had a deal with the great king Ecgberht. But that was years ago, way before the little girl was even born.

The man in front of the group smirked slightly before he leaned down to her height. "Now who might you be? You wouldn't know where a witch named Meredith lives, would you?" The man studied her features, each one identical to her mothers, except the ocean blue eyes. A feature left from her father.

Taking a step back she tripped over her own leg only to be caught by the man in front of her. He wore his hair in a braid and his beard was longer than she ever saw anyone wear. His eyes didn't hold any danger in them, maybe curiosity, but nothing she had to be scared of. Calming her nerves slightly she stood up straight again.

"witch?" She tilted her head confused, not understanding what that word really meant, only hearing it when someone insulted her mother. Her eyebrows furrowed in anger. "My momma was no witch! She was a healer and helped lots of people!" Pushing away from him, she heard something snap behind the man.

A man holding his arm, which was twisted in a weird angle. The man was screaming in pain as his legs twisted as well, painfully bringing him to his death. It took the little girl some time to snap out of her emotions and look over to the man, only to gasp at the state of the man.

Covering her eyes quickly with her hands she turned away, a quiet sob escaping her. The other men gasped in fear, she had to be blessed by the gods they thought. "By the gods it is true!" The man with the braid laughed and pulled her into his chest. "You are coming home with us, little one. Bet you want to meet your family!" Peeking through her fingers she nervously chewed her lip. She wasn't sure if she could trust him, but her momma once told her a story about a man she could always trust if he ever came to her. A man named Ragnar Lothbrok.

The man, who was carrying her, didn't look exactly how her mother explained, but his icy blue eyes reminded her of him. "Are you Ragnar Lothbrok?" Her voice came out in a whisper as she held onto him. A laugh rumbled in his chest as he put her down on the boat. "I am his son, Björn Ironside. My father and I were often here in Wessex, he met a woman, a healer he used to tease by calling her a witch, they shared a bed and later on rumors spread, that she was with his child. You. I am your brother, we're going to Kattegat, our fathers home. Our home."

Confusion settled in the little girls chest, she didn't fully believe him, but somehow she thought she could trust him. The hope of having a family battling the fear of getting killed or worse.

They traveled for months on no end, the little witch started to enjoy the sea. She learned many things thanks to her brother. The gods became her favorite topic, next to her having four more brothers back at home. Giggling she ran over to Björn. "Brother! When will we arrive?" Excitement settled in her bones as she held onto his hand, looking up to him with wide eyes. Björn couldn't help but smile slightly at how excited she was. "We will arrive soon, look."

When she looked into the distant she saw land becoming bigger, they were close, just about to reach it. She was nervous, he had warned her about how different each brother is, but she was excited. Excited to see a family she longed for. Excited for a land that would also belong to her in some way.

As they arrived she was nervous, people looked at her weirdly, making her scared that she might hurt someone. Björn was walking in the front with her, three men waiting for them in a big hall. The girl had already heard a lot about them and could easily tell who each one of them was. But one wasn't here, she was disappointed.

The men looked at Björn confused. "Welcome home, brother. I see you did not return alone, who is that child?" Ubbe smiled slightly walking up to them. "She's our sister. Father laid with a woman from Wessex, she was a healer I got to know her a bit." The little girl started fidgeting with her hands, trying to release some of her stress. Ubbes eyes found hers, she could only see kindness in them.

A chuckle came from where the other two stood, the blonde man laughing at how ridicules this sounded. "Be serious, brother. You couldn't possibly believe something that stupid." Sigurd was being gruesome, looking at the child in disgust at how her clothes looked. She was no child of Ragnar for him. she didn't look like one either. Sneering he gave her one last glare as he walked away.

Biting her lip she looked to the ground, counting the seconds and minutes so she could calm down. A sigh came from the other three men. Hvitserk slowly made his way towards her kneeling down so he was her height. A smile forming on his face as he studied her eyes, the blue reminding him of his little brother. Even the white in her eyes was a little blue.

„Looks like Ironsides is telling the truth.“. A grin spread on Hvitserk face as he stood up straight. Soon there was a clicking sound to be heard. Ivar came into the great hall, wondering what all the noise is about, having only heard parts of it. „Gods would you just keep it down, Hvitserk.“

Fear settled in her stomach, she was terrified of meeting Ivar ever since Björn told her all the stories about him. When her eyes finally met his she couldn't help but flinch. His eyes matched hers the most. They were almost identical and a giddy smile formed on her face, before she could stop herself. With him it was the clearest that he was her brother. "I heard Sigurd whine about our brother having found some bastard child from father, that couldn't seriously be his..."

Ivar leaned down towards the little girl, tilting his head slightly, inspecting her, before grinning like a lunatic. "But as I see she looks more like a child of Ragnar than he does." Hvitserk laughed and Ubbe couldn't help but grin a little at Ivars statement. All of them were nervous for his reaction, since he was the hardest to please, but somehow her eyes made him realize it the quickest.

The little girl couldn't believe how easy they all accepted her and included her in everything. Everyone except Sigurd. He spread the rumors of her having some powers, but instead of making the people be disgusted of her they started admiring her, bringing her brothers gifts for her. Every person in Kattegat thought she was a god. How couldn't she be? A child of the great Ragnar Lothbrok, it was about time one of them had to become a god.

Even her brothers sometimes believed it, but they also soon learned that her power held a lot of danger. Ivar was the first to notice that her eyes, like his, told in what situation her powers would be. If they were blue in the whites, then it was dangerous for her to interact with a lot of people meaning, keeping her with Ubbe and Hvits would be the wisest decision. Of course they trusted Ivar with her, but most of the times Ivar himself was somewhat worried about upsetting her too much.

On her good days she would walk with her crippled brother through the market, helping him get things and later on hearing about all the adventures he went on. She wouldn't tell but she did like him the best, since he understood her the most. Ubbe was a close second. Björn left for another raid soon after he brought her to the others, which sandend her the most was that he didn't even say goodbye.

She loved her brothers very much, even Sigurd. Ivar was very protective of her when it came to him. He was never allowed too close to her or to be alone with her. It was rare that Ivar cared that much, but he knew how cruel Sigurd could be if he wanted to, and he didn't want her to go through the same things he himself went through.

During a feast late at night she sat with her brothers, giggling and laughing as Hvitserk told her the funniest stories and Torvi braiding her hair, she felt whole. Ivar was sitting in the throne looking over the people, seeing how they looked at his sister in fear, he liked that they feared her even if they thought she was a god, but he also knew how it upset her that they avoided her at all costs when she was close.

Sigurd hated everything about her actually being treated like all of his brothers, like an actual child of Ragnar even though Ragnar himself never even knew her. On this particular night he drank one too many cups of ale and his company wouldn't stop talking about how great her powers are and how she was the hope for the people in Kattegat. The hate he felt for Ivar was nothing compared to the hate he felt for her. It made him see red, he got up and walked straight up to her as she was wandering around the hall, looking at different things.

Ivar was watching her carefully, making sure nothing could happen. Sigurd grabbed her arm forcefully making her stop and turn towards him, a gasps escaped her. Looking up to him she gave him an excited smile. "Brother! Are you enjoying the feast? Ubbe said I may not try the ale yet because-" But he interrupted her by grabbing her face hard and squishing her cheeks together. "I am not your brother! Neither are they!" He pointed to were Ubbe and Hvitserk were laughing together. "Just because Ragnar laid with some bitch in Wessex doesn't make you anything to us! Oh and Ivar? He's playing his own games, he only keeps you around so that you can help him archive the power he wants!" A smirk was on Sigurds face as he watched how tears streamed down her cheeks and how her lip quivered.

Sadly for him he did not notice the blue of her eyes and how she was further away from the others, to calm her powers. One might think that the ax hitting him in the back was her, but people tend to forget how hotheaded Ivar the boneless was, now that he seemed calm compared to his sister. Ivar couldn't help it and threw the ax, hearing his brothers harsh and hurtful words, making him not realize what he was doing as his hand found the weapon.

Ivar didn't mean to kill his brother, panic spread in his chest as he quickly limped over to the two of them. The little girls eyes were wide and still filled with unshed tears as she did her best to keep Sigurd upright. Of course she was upset with him, but he was still her beloved brother, even if he didn't see himself that way.

The hall quieted down quickly. Hvitserk and Ubbe were quick to join their siblings helping the girl to carefully lay down their brother. Both shot daggers with their eyes at Ivar, who was slightly trembling, scared to have actually killed him. Ubbe tried to pull her away from Sigurd, not wanting her to see so much blood at such a young age, not caring about viking tradition at this point. This was her brother dying, she shouldn't see him like that.

But she had other plans. As if it was instinct, she pulled away from Ubbes hold and pulled the ax out of Sigurds abdomen. Her hands covering in blood as she pressed them onto the open wound applying as much pressure as she can before closing her eyes, saying a quiet prayer to the gods. Repeating the prayer over and over again in barely a whisper her eyes shot open, the blue now seeming like it glowed, making the men around her flinch slightly.

They all saw the wound healing. It healed quickly, way quicker than anything else and her eyes soon stopped glowing as the wound was completely gone and Sigurs eyes snapped open. The little girls eyes closed slowly as she released him from her grip and dropped exhausted to the ground, making Hvitserk quickly catched her head, before it hit the floor, picking her fully up. All of them were silent for a moment as they listened to Sigurds heavy breathing.

None of them could believe how blessed they were, having a sister as strong as her. It didn't matter to them if she was a god or a simple witch blessed by them. All that mattered to them was that she was safe and taken care of. She was so young with such great power. A power she needed help with, a power that they all had to tame with her. But it was alright, if that's what it takes for her to feel loved and needed.

The Ragnarssons could not hide the fact that their sister was the reason they all connected fully again. She truly was a blessing from the all father.

-

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! :)

[witchezandwonderz]

Threads of Destiny- Part Two

Pairing: Æthelstan x reader

Word Count: 1,963

Multipart series: Starts in Season five and will eventually end in Seven Kings Must Die.

Part One

Masterlist

I have included a name for the female reader, as I feel that sometimes Y/N does not feel as personable- please feel free to replace this with your name as you read.

Whole story summary: Under the ominous glow of the Blood Moon, Katye flees for her life. Pursued by ruthless hunters, she crosses paths with Æthelstan, a mysterious man with his own burdens. As danger closes in from all sides, they must navigate a treacherous world of betrayal, survival, and unspoken truths. But in a land ruled by blood and ambition, trust could be their greatest weapon—or their undoing.

Katye froze, her breath hitching as her eyes locked on the towering figure before her. The flickering firelight painted his face with sharp shadows. Uhtred of Bebbanburg. Even without knowing the man personally, his presence was unmistakable. The tales of his exploits had reached even the most isolated villages: warrior, lord, traitor to the Danes—or saviour of the Saxons, depending on who told the story.

She knew everything there was to know about the man standing before her. He had grown up with her father, fought by his side, but also betrayed him. If Uhtred had stayed loyal, her father might still be alive.

Brida had made sure Katye heard her version of events—the bitter, venomous recounting of Uhtred’s betrayal. Yet Katye knew better than to trust every word Brida produced.

The truth was, Katye was the daughter of the great Ragnar Ragnarson. After his murder, Brida had tried to raise her as her own. But Brida was Brida. Her love was conditional, her promises fleeting. Katye was not hers, and never would be.

Brida wanted power, Brida wanted revenge. She sought retribution against anyone and anything that had ever wronged her or those she loved. And when Katye refused to walk the same bloody path, Brida turned on her.

That was why Katye was running now.

She hadn’t meant to find Uhtred. But fate—fickle, ruthless fate—had brought her here, to him. And to the mysterious, handsome man who had helped her so far.

"Who is this?" Uhtred’s voice broke through the haze, sharp and direct. His piercing eyes swept over her, then Æthelstan, lingering just a fraction too long on the satchel at her side.

Æthelstan stepped forward, his stance protective yet cautious. “I found her in the woods, running from Danes. They were after her.”

Uhtred raised an eyebrow, an amused smile curling his lips. “And why would the Danes be hunting a young girl like a pack of wolves?”

Katye’s face remained impassive, though her bruised eye and busted lip told a story of their own. Her hand gripped her dagger tightly, unwilling to relax. “I am in possession of something they want,” she said flatly, her eyes flickering between the faces scrutinising her.

Uhtred stepped closer, causing her to instinctively retreat, bumping into Æthelstan. “What is it that you carry?” Uhtred’s curiosity was evident, his tone sharp.

Katye hesitated, then straightened her back. “Nothing that concerns you.”

Uhtred’s expression darkened, offended by her bluntness. “You expect me to offer you safety, yet you refuse to tell me why you’re being hunted?” His voice rose slightly, irritation creeping into his words.

Æthelstan stepped forward again, now standing between Katye and Uhtred. “Lord, she has had a long few days and needs food and rest,” he reasoned calmly. “We can address this later.”

Uhtred paused, his eyes narrowing as he considered the younger man’s words. Finally, he gave a short nod. “Fine. But we will speak again,” he warned, his gaze flicking back to Katye.

She let out a small sigh of relief, grateful for Æthelstan’s intervention. She followed him through the bustling camp, though she couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder. Uhtred stood where they’d left him, his intense gaze still fixed on her.

Feeling uneasy, Katye offered him a small, hesitant smile before turning away and quickening her pace. Her hand clutched her satchel tightly.

The camp was alive with movement. Groups of men and women laughed and drank around the fires. The air was thick with the scent of smoke, roasting meat, and damp earth. No one paid her much attention as she passed, much to her relief. It was a strange feeling—being ignored. For years, she had been watched constantly, her every move monitored. The freedom felt foreign. Unsettling.

Æthelstan approached an older woman tending a large pot over a fire. He spoke to her in a low voice, but the noisy camp made it impossible for Katye to hear. Moments later, he turned back, handing Katye a bowl of steaming stew.

She hesitated for only a moment before accepting it, embarrassed by how desperate she felt. The warmth of the food seeped into her hands, and she forced herself to eat slowly, though hunger clawed at her stomach. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a proper meal.

“Thank you,” she murmured after swallowing a few bites. Her voice was quiet, almost lost in the sounds of the camp.

Æthelstan’s expression softened at her gratitude. “You must not have been around many kind people,” he observed gently.

Katye shook her head, her focus still on the bowl in her hands. Within moments, she had finished every last drop. She flushed slightly, embarrassed by her own haste. She handed the empty bowl back to Æthelstan, who only smiled.

“Come on,” he said, his tone light. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He led her away from the camp, their path lit only by the faint glow of the fires behind them and the silver light of the moon. They stopped at a small stream in a secluded clearing. Æthelstan knelt by the water, soaking a strip of cloth before wringing it out.

“I’ve nothing better to clean your wounds with,” he apologised, glancing up at her.

Katye chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Please, I am no lady. This will do fine.”

Æthelstan laughed, his grin wide. “You may not think so, but you look like a lady to me. Even if you are covered in mud.”

Katye rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. She stood still as Æthelstan carefully dabbed the cloth over the cut on her cheek. His brow furrowed in concentration, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he worked.

She found herself watching him too closely—the way the firelight highlighted his sharp jawline, the faint crease between his brows. Her gaze lingered on his lips for too long, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks warming.

The sound of footsteps made them both step apart. A young man emerged from the trees, dark-haired with a teasing grin. He tossed a bundle of clothes to Æthelstan. “Here. Thought you might need these.”

Æthelstan thanked him, his tone light but hurried.

Once the man had gone, Katye cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to wash properly.”

Æthelstan looked startled. “The water will be freezing.”

Katye smirked. “I’ll survive. Now, if you’d kindly turn around.” She gestured for him to look away, already untying her cloak.

He hesitated, then turned his back, standing stiffly as she stepped into the stream.

After a while, Aethelstan started to worry, yet did not dare turn around, for he feared that he may see her in a way that she did not want to be seen.

"Katye" He called out. "Are you well?"

He then heard the sound of twigs crunching and cracking from the ground, followed by Katye's voice. "Yeah, you can turn around now."

And so he did, intending to ask if she needed more help. But when his eyes landed on her, the words faltered in his throat.

There she stood, droplets of water trailing down her skin as she adjusted the clean tunic Æthelstan had provided. The fabric clung to her damp body, outlining curves she would rather have hidden. Her long black hair, now free of the caked mud, cascaded down her back in wet, shining waves. The moonlight caught her features—the bright green eyes, a small, delicate nose, and a light dusting of freckles scattered across her cheeks and nose like stars.

Her eyes sparkled, now clearly more alert due the cold water, and her features, though soft and feminine, carried strength. She looked both fierce and fragile, a contradiction that he couldn’t quite reconcile.

“Is something wrong?” Katye asked, breaking the silence. Her voice carried a hint of suspicion, her eyes narrowing slightly as she held her hands on her hip. She was painfully aware of how the damp fabric clung to her, revealing more than she was comfortable with, but the Dane within her told her not to care.

“N-no,” Æthelstan stammered, quickly looking away. His cheeks flushed red, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just… I didn’t realise—” He stopped himself before the words could tumble out. I didn’t realise you were so beautiful.

Katye’s lips curved into a faint smirk, though her cheeks warmed as well. “Didn’t realise what?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“That you look…” Æthelstan trailed off, fumbling for something safe to say. “Different from before”

“Ah, so you’re saying I looked terrible before,” she teased, her tone light.

“No!” he protested quickly. “That’s not what I meant.”

Katye laughed softly, the sound surprising even herself. It had been so long since she’d found anything to laugh about. “Relax, Æthelstan. I’m only teasing.”

He smiled at her, relief softening his features. “Clean looks good on you." His cheeks flushed once again as the words tumbled from his mouth.

Her smirk widened, and she shook her head, moving past him to gather her satchel. “You’ve a strange way with compliments,” she laughed, gaining great pleasure from watching how embarrassed he was becoming.

Æthelstan watched her as she bent to pick up her belongings, her hair falling forward like a curtain. He forced himself to look away, inwardly berating his wandering eyes and thoughts. She’d been through enough, he reminded himself. She didn’t need his admiration or awkwardness adding to her burdens.

When she turned back to him, her green eyes caught his again, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them seemed heavier somehow, charged with something unspoken.

“You’re staring again,” she pointed out, tilting her head slightly.

“I—” Æthelstan hesitated, then cleared his throat. “I was just… making sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” she replied, her tone softer now. “Though I should probably thank you. For all of this.” She gestured vaguely to her clean clothes and the river behind her. “You didn’t have to help me.”

“It was nothing,” he said quickly, his voice steady despite the warmth still lingering in his cheeks. “Anyone would have done the same.”

Katye’s expression hardened slightly, her guard rising again. “No,” she said quietly. “Not anyone.” She then sat down where she stood, patting the ground next to her, indicating that he should sit too.

"Can I trust you?" She asked. Aethelstan nodded in return. "No, can I really trust you?" She affirmed, attempting to communicate how serious she was. He nodded, again. "Yes".

Katye nodded, gaining courage to tell Aethelstan the story of why she was in this mess.

"My name, is Katye Ragnarson. My father, was Ragnar Ragnarson" She began to explain. Aethelstan watched her face closely, captivated as she told her story.

She explained that when her father had died, she was very, very little. Although he was in love with Brida- whom Aethelstan had heard countless stories about- she could not carry children of her own, the gods forbade it. She never knew her mother, for Brida had her killed as soon as her father had been killed. Brida attempted to raise her, but the older Katye got, the more they fell out. A loyal friend of Ragnar, gave Katye a satchel of things that her father had left for her.

"What is in it, Katye?" Aethelstan asked her, gently and cautiously placing his hand on hers. Katye gulped before removing the satchel from her side and placing it instead on her lap. "It contains three things" She stated, now undoing the satchel. "My fathers ring, a letter from my father stating that I am his only heir, and a prophecy." She breathed the words, relived that she had finally told someone who did not want to kill her for it.

She looked at Aethelstan, who sat in close proximity to her and blinked at her, encouraging her to continue. To which, she obliged. "The prophecy states that Ragnars true blood heir, will destroy the Danes, by allying with Saxons, signalling the end of the Dane way of life. Hence, why they all want to kill me."

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A/N: Likes, Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated:) <3

[halfmylife]

Meet Me in the Woods

Pairing Sihtric x reader

Summary You and Sihtric were young when you met, just children in the forest. Now you’ve grown up and gone your separate ways, only to be reunited.

Warnings none, mentions of violence if you squint real hard

A/N this was based on this lovely request and yes this will be a mini series hopefully but I’m not sure how many parts it will be just yet! Hope you all enjoy!

The man that stood before you was not the boy you once knew.

The boy that skulked through the forest was scrawny and always stuck to the shadows, never dancing with the sunlight that peeped through the trees. He always remained in the corner of your eye never to be caught.

No one else paid him much mind. The other children would often play amongst themselves, scurrying through the woods like rabbits chasing one another. You always remained by the small stream. It was peaceful there, quiet.

The boy would keep his distance but you could always feel his eyes on you, watching, observing your every move. Sometimes you would do the same. Every so often your eyes would meet. It took a while for you to finally speak.

But now it was you who stood observing his every move. The way his hand flexed around the hilt of the blade. How his eyes seared into Uhtred’s yet had an undercurrent of a plea.

This was that boy there was no doubt in your mind. This was your Sihtric.

He never looked your way.

Perhaps he didn’t notice you at first, shrinking behind your brother, watching the scene play out in front of you. Perhaps he was more focused on keeping Halig in place. Perhaps he didn’t even recognise you.

You couldn’t place the last time you saw him or the last time you spoke. You hated yourself for not being able to remember the last words you said to each other. All because they were never supposed to be your last words together.

The gods had pulled you away from one another only to reunite you once more. The only cost of all this was that he wouldn’t look your way.

“You are Kjartan’s man.” Uhtred barely looked taunted by this small display. You both knew he wouldn’t do anything.

“No, I’m Kjartan’s bastard son.” He spat back. His eyes were wild as he watched your brother carefully. “You are Uhtred Ragnarson and I wish to serve a warrior and a lord. A true lord.”

“If you believe me to be these things then put down your sword.” Uhtred spoke nonchalantly, challenging the man before you. He hesitated.

“You guarantee my life?” His voice became shaky as he started to look around. Swords were already drawn, yours included.

“Put down your sword.” Uhtred urged, stepping a little closing keep his gaze set on the shaking boy in front of him. You were sure he met your eyes if only for a second.

“Kill him.” The priest beside you shouted. You had half the thought to put your blade to him but knew Uhtred wouldn’t be happy if you did.

“No!” Uhtred snapped back, barely casting him a glance, still focused on Sihtric. He lowered his voice again. “Put down your sword.”

He did. Sihtric dropped the sword and stepped back. Halig darted from him, watching carefully for a moment to strike. Not that it would ever come. If Sihtric had bested two of them whilst tied up you doubt Halig would get the upper hand now.

“I can be of use to you lord.” His eyes were wide and he was barely holding himself up.

“He’s nothing but a heathen kill him!” The priest was shouting again. Once more and you were certain you would step in.

“No one is to move.” Uhtred ordered, casting a look directly at the man who continued to protest.

“Kill him now!” He shouted. Uhtred turned on him before you had the chance.

“I said no one is to move and no one is to speak but me! No one.” Uhtred’s voice matched the priests but was far more commanding. The forest was silent as everyone looked on. “What’s your name?” Uhtred stepped forward and you were certain your heart stopped beating as if anticipating the one name you were hoping for.

“I am called Sihtric, lord.” It was him. You were right, that nagging in your stomach had been right. It was your Sihtric. “Please, I’m not loyal to Kjartan and never can be.”

Uhtred paused for a moment, considering everything he’d just heard, studying the boy in front of him. You had once trusted a boy in the woods. Now here stood a man in the woods, asking to swear fealty to your brother. Could you trust him like you used to?

“You swear your sword is mine?” Uhtred asked quietly.

“On Thor’s hammer.” He gripped his pendant with shaky hands as he swore an oath. “I do lord, I swear.”

“Then you have my protection.” He nodded. With a breath of relief, Sihtric sank to his knees, bowing his head.

“Lord, thank you.” He muttered so quietly it was barely audible. You heard him. You heard every word. “Thank you.”

“Sihtric is with us now, he serves in King Gutred’s army.” Uhtred turned his back, leaving Sihtric on his knees and the rest of the crowd quietly confused.

Everyone dispersed, barely glancing at the kneeling Dane. Not you. You remained, still clutching your sword, watching him carefully. You wondered if everyone left, how long would he stay there before asking for someone to untie him or to give him food.

You wouldn’t do that. You couldn’t do that to the boy you once knew.

“Do you intend on kneeling all day?” You asked as you approached him. Sihtric’s eyes snapped to yours in an instant.

There was a wave washing over you, dragging you down beneath its depths as you looked at him but you could tell that he was only floating at the surface.

“Give me your hands.” You spoke quietly, sheathing your sword and opting for a dagger instead. He finally stood up holding out his bound hands to you as if begging to be freed without saying a word.

“Thank you, lady.” His voice shook less as he spoke and you could feel relief washing over him as he visibly relaxed. You tried to hide the pain of him calling you lady. He had never called you that, not once. It was clear he no longer recognised you.

“I am no lady.” You mumbled u see your breath, slicing through the ropes that bound him. Taking a step back, you let your eyes run over him. He was still scrawny perhaps but he also carried muscle, especially in his arms. You shook the thought off. “I hope you intend to keep your word Kjartanson.”

“My sword is his, I will serve him.” He argued, gaze intense as he watched you back.

“Good.” You closed the gap between you, standing inches from him, looking nowhere else but his eyes. “My brother will not hesitate to kill you if you betray him.” You watched as the words settled over him. The ways his features softened as he realised what you’d said. Not the threat, no he finally realised who you were.

No longer the lonely girl in the woods. No longer the girl who picked flowers in the fields and brought them to him. No longer the girl who would stay until dark talking to him. Now you were a shield maiden. Now you were a warrior.

“Neither will I.”

[biggerbetterbat]

THE SECOND SON | masterlist

Ubbe Ragnarson x oc!reader

Summary: Ubbe, a fierce warrior with a heart of gold, and Valdis, a spirited woman with dreams of her own, find themselves thrust into an arranged marriage - dream of past that their fathers had.

General warnings: mentions of cheating, pregnancy, murder, fighting, violence, jealousy, strong language, smut, unprotected sex, death - overall typical viking’s things

In this story Ubbe was never married/in any relationship with Torvi (I do believe it’s a warning)

“They danced through the day

And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall

From winter to summer then winter again

'Til the walls did crumble and fall”

memory of him

one.

two.

three.

[imaginesmai]

Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson (8)

Other parts: Once Upon A Fairy Tale Masterlist  

Plot: tragedy strikes when you least expect it.

Warnings: death, blood, detailed descriptions of bodies and killing.

Your body lost all the warmth when you heard the servant, and suddenly you were aware of the storm and the sounds of the castle. Too many people were moving at once, and you didn’t have to think about it twice – Ubbe turned away and you followed him, your dress falling back onto your legs. You left the door open and ran behind Ubbe, quickly overtaking the servant that was screaming the news all over again.

In every hall you passed, there were servants, soldiers and courtiers running or whispering, some of them looking lost.

Everything was blurry around you as you tried to keep up with Ubbe. Even if you were fast, he had longer legs, and you had trouble following him. Only then you noticed the smoke coming from the forest.

“My prince” a soldier with his armor on was in the great hall, kneeling in front of a man with drenched clothes. Something darker than water stained them. “He arrived just moments ago. He claims the hunting raid was ambushed and…”

“What have you seen?” Ubbe grabbed the man by his clothes, getting him on his feet.

The same Ubbe who had beaten that soldier to death was back, you could see it in his eyes. You were as worried as him, and in your stomach, there was a cold stone making its way to your throat, threatening to carry with it any food you had inside.

But, from the both of you, you had always been more reasonable.

So you managed to tear him away from the man, that fell once more to the ground with a broken expression, his eyes full of tears and terror.

“Ubbe” you warned him. Once he was behind you, you knelt down and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “What happened? Where is the king?”

“Dead” he whispered, not meeting your eyes. “The king is – “

“But why? Where is the hunting raid?” you pressed, until he was looking at you and you had his attention. “You can’t storm in here and tell us the king is dead. Were you in the hunting raid? What have you seen?”

“We… the carriage didn’t arrive to the clearing, so Justin and I tried to find them. There was no one there. No one” the man broke into another sob, and you finally saw recognition in his eyes, breaking free from whatever shock he was in. “Someone ambushed the royal carriage and killed them all. At the second intersection. Next to the small hill”

“Are you – Ubbe!”

Before you finished your question, before you could wrap your mind around what he had said, Ubbe turned around and started running again towards the stables. Leaving the broken man and confused guard behind, you followed him.

Something screamed inside you but you couldn’t identify what. Too afraid to think about what he had said, you ran. You managed to match Ubbe’s pace, or he slowed it to yours, and you made your way together to the stables.

It could be true, or it could be the tale of a mad man. If you thought coldly about it, if anyone else had a saying in your next movements, they could warn you about being a real ambush. It wouldn’t be the first or last attempts over any of your heads, heirs of two wealthy kingdoms. Only last year your father had been almost poisoned by a peddler at the market.

But any rational thought was left at the castle when you reached the stables and saw soldiers coming together in a small expedition group. Some of them were yours, other from Mercia. Without an official order from any of the kings, they looked lost.

Briefly, it occurred to you that you didn’t know how to handle an expedition group, let alone a whole army. You could understand matters of wars, could have an opinion, but even if they listened to you, you had no idea.

Thankfully, Ubbe was already trained for that.

“The royal carriage has been described at the hill next to the second intersection, close to the river’s spring” he proclaimed. Every man fell silent and listened. “Sir Thaddeus will lead the first group, follow the town’s path. Sir Jorah, search the forest for any outsiders, take the archers with you. Shoot first. The rest of us will go for the hill”

“Why is she – “

You guessed what he was going to say, but he didn’t finish, because his head left his body before he could finish. The soldier’s head rolled silently and stopped when it hit a horse’s leg, who only kicked it back. Ubbe’s sword, now dripping blood, went back to its shelter as quickly as he had dragged it out.

No one said anything else as their prince moved, taking two black horses and handing you one in silence. He didn’t meet your eyes, and you were glad. If he did, you might had break down right there. Because every second that passed was another unanswered question.

What about king Ecbert? Was he there?

Have you seen my father?

Where is my dad?

Strong rain greeted you when the doors were opened, and now the wet land was being torn to pieces by the horses’ quick strides. Once you exited the castles’ door, two groups of soldiers parted ways. One of them headed to the village, and the other between the tall, dark trees that framed the path your father had taken.

Blinking the first tear away, you ran past Ubbe’s horse.

 -

 The forest was wide and dark, even during the summer. People in Mercia only ventured far enough to chase some preys and follow the river, but nothing more. Deep inside the forest, wild animals could end with any man within seconds, and some tribes were rumored to live in the trees.

If those were only tales for bedtime or a real story, Ubbe would never know.

He tried to keep himself focused. After years of assuming responsibilities, he knew how to lead and act without his father. First, he needed to convince himself that it wasn’t his father who was presumed dead. Maybe a patrol, a carriage from another kingdom. Thinking about the royal carriage, his brother Sigurd and his father made him dizzy.

So he rode.

The rest of the horses followed him, but his horse was slowly leaving them behind. The only rider who didn’t disappear from sight were you, always a few steps ahead.

You knew the forest as well as him, having played and climbed its trees many times before. There were two paths to take. The one that lead to the village, that was being searched by other group, and the shorter one, taken by the carriage that morning.

It wasn’t that much of a path, only a clear of trees with many stones and roots to trip on.

“The smoke” you said, your voice swallowed by the rain and wind. “Ubbe, the smoke! It’s coming from the hill!”

“Don’t stop” was his only answer.

As you got closer, you started to notice things that didn’t belong to the forest. A broken, wood wheel. A boot without its pair. A horse trying to breath its last breath, hidden in the bushes. Swords.

A body impaled on a sword.

Then, you reached the second intersection, next to the hill.

Ubbe didn’t let his horse stop before jumping off him, running up the small hill from where parts of a carriage peaked. The royal carriage was filled with silver and gold embodiments, one of the most prized possessions his family had. In that moment, only parts and pieces of it were left.

The rain made it difficult to see and move, but he managed to climb up the small distance between the road and the broken parts of wood and steel. Something scratched his left knee and tore through his pants, drawing blood. He lost his footing and, for a second, he thought he would fall.

Before he could, your hand caught his arm and he balanced against a root, silently thanking you with his head. For a second, you stared at each other.

“Ubbe”

“I know” he whispered, seeing his own fear reflected in your face. “I know”

Ubbe couldn’t distinguish your tears from the rain, and couldn’t tell if he was crying too. He felt as if his heart had stopped beating, his lungs stopped working. Only a few steps separated you from the hill, where something else than wood was burning. Something that he had smelt only a few times, that he didn’t want to remember.

“Don’t stop” he repeated.

Instead of climbing past you or letting your hand go, he gripped your elbow and pushed you forwards.

Ubbe reached the clearing seconds after you, and some twisted, dark part of him would have wanted to be a worse rider, a slower runner. He regretted training his horse to be fast and not falling on his butt while climbing.

Because if he weren’t that good at climbing or hadn’t held any hope of finding survivors, he wouldn’t have been the first one along you to see what was left of your fathers’ carriage.

“Oh, god” he heard you say. From his left, he saw you fall to your knees. “Oh, god”

People always said he looked just like his father, that from all his brothers, he was the most similar. The first body, or what was left of it, was just like his. Wide shoulders, strong arms, long legs. The family bracelet, a silver snake that tried to bite its tail, was attached to the person’s arm, and that was how Ubbe recognized his father.

Not because he could see his face, because where it was supposed to be, was a mess of blood and brains. The warrior, strategic part of him told him a horse had stepped on him. The other part could barely hold it together.

Your sobs and screams were background noise, as well as the rain. There was a fire in the middle of the clearing, bodies and clothes burning.

He stared at his brother’s body, once more, only recognizing him for the bracelet. It wasn’t a horse; it was a man’s doing. On his back with a dozen of arrows in his body, Sigurd started at him with his only eye, the other one gone.

King Ecbert had managed to leave the carriage, or so it seemed. With a sword in hand, he had almost made it to the hill. Only to be beheaded.

The fastest soldiers finished climbing the hill, some of them joining you on your knees, crying and begging. Others were frozen in place. For a long minutes, no one moved, just stared at slaughter of the two kingdoms’ heads.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Taglist:

@66vikings

[hvitserkmarcosource]

New Marco!! 🩷🩷

[vikingsarememes]

Of Broken Rabbits - Part 2

Previous part

Characters: Ivar “the Boneless” Ragnarsson x Reader, Ubbe Ragnarson

Summary: You are still locked in your chamber, Ubbe visits you to convince you to survive, and eventually you were convinced, and Ivar, well, he is trying to be kinder

Word count: 1251

Warnings: mention of abuse and bickering

A/N: none

Credits: photos from Pinterest, editing app is picsart

---------------------------------------------------------

The day had passed, all of the maidens’ attempts to convince you to accept Ivar’s offer failed, you felt yourself grow weaker within the hour, too tired to lift a limp, the day became two and two became three, that’s when you had an unfamiliar visitor, Ubbe, you recognized him from the doomed wedding “Y/N, you look awful” he had told you, you glared at him weakly “what are you doing to yourself? Is this really how you wish to pass?” you nodded “Freyja will have mercy on me” you replied, he laughed “Freyja couldn’t care less about her subjects, otherwise, Ivar would’ve been different” 

You looked at him with teary eyes, you were about to cry if you weren’t too dehydrated and tired “look, Ivar… he has a unique way of showing his feelings, one minute he is the sweetest, the second he wants to burn everyone alive, don’t allow yourself to die a meaningless death because of his tantrum” you didn’t say a word “what is it that he wanted anyways? For you to look nice and eat with him? You can do it, live another day to fight another fight”

His words  made sense, the closer death is, the more you realized, if you die, then it is another girl who will fall a victim of his “bring her mead” he requested from the maidens who obeyed immediately, he took the jar and placed it near your mouth “drink, believe me, this act of bravery is not worth it” 

Spiteful, you drank the mead, emptied the jar, Ubbe smiled at you, he got up and looked at the maidens “help the queen into a gown, she will be dining with us tonight” they obeyed, and you allowed them to dress you and fix your looks, the problem was not you, your death would’ve been meaningless, the problem was your husband, his death would mean something, a better life for the people of Kattegat and ensuring that no woman or maiden will go through his cruelty again.

When you entered the great hall with Ubbe by your arm, guiding you to your rightful seat, all eyes were focused on you, especially Ivar’s, his feelings were mixed between relief and anger “look, my beautiful bride is feeling better” he exclaimed, people cheered, once you were seated, the food rushed to you, of all kinds, drinks as well, Ivar remained quiet.

The night went smoothly, few cheered for you getting better, you guessed Ragnarsons told them that you fell ill, Ivar tried to keep his distance as much as possible besides a few stairs, mainly to make sure that you are still alive, you remained quiet aside from sharing pleasantries with the people of Kattegat.

Returning to your room, you felt your heart clenching, unsure of his reaction, he limped to the bed and took off his braces, and rested his feet on the mattress, you saw the pained expressions on his face, you undressed yourself and re-changed to your nightgown then laid on your side of the bed, ignoring his existence, however, gods had different plans.

“I’m glad you didn’t die out of stupidity” he mumbled, his eyes forward, looking at the fire “you are so stubborn, it is tiring! Why can’t you just accept our lives the way it is?” you scoffed and turned to face him “life? What life? You don’t talk to me, you hit me and we are not even wedded for a month, you stole me from me from my village and you starved me to death!” 

The king rolled his eyes “in my defense, you starved yourself and disobeyed me” you looked at him angrily “I’m supposed to be your wife, not your subject! You supposed to respect me, care about my wellbeing, I’m supposed to be your wife” he furrowed his eyebrows “I respect you, I never humiliated you in front of anyone, I always praise you in your presence, and it’s not like you respect or care about me!” 

The man was getting on every nerve you have, you couldn’t hold back your tongue “are you fucking kidding me? I literally tried to be kind to you and I was met with a don’t tell anyone what happens in the  bedroom, I tried to care for your wellbeing and you hit me! Tell me, what respect can remain with actions like this?” you snapped “I apologized!” he snapped back “saying you are sorry is one thing and meaning it is another!” you attacked back “gods I wish I never met you!” he groaned, shifting to his side of the bed, giving you his back “oh believe me it’s the most mutual feeling we have” you did the same.

You tried to sleep that night but you couldn’t, you kept shifting on the bed, uneven from the days you laid still and waited for your death, Ivar was sensing every movement, it was no surprise when he groaned and sat, glaring at you “woman enough!” he demanded, you rolled your eyes “i’m trying to sleep, not my fault” he rolled his eyes “of course, nothing is ever your fault” he said sarcastically, you wished you had a dagger next to you to stab him right there.

You didn’t reply, he took a deep breath, calmed himself down, and laid down, his attention focused on the ceiling, quiet, for a minute or so “I’m sorry, I’ve been treating you roughly, when I’m mad I don’t see what’s in front of me” he mumbled, you shifted and looked at him “almost sincere” he frowned “it is sincere!” it was, you could feel it, you simply didn’t want to let it go that easily.

He shifted to look at you instead of the ceiling “let’s start over, pretend the last month never happened” you hesitated “I will be kinder to you, I will be a better husband” your hesitation grew, but those piercing blue eyes were making it difficult for you to remain mad at him, you still wanted him dead, but you wanted to believe that he had more to him aside from being a complete psychopathic king.

You sighed and nodded, he offered a gentle smile “thank you Y/N” you didn’t reply “let us spend some time tomorrow, just the two of us, we can do whatever you wish” you wanted to list things you wanted to do, like walking in the fields, swimming in the rivers, playing with the children, but you knew none of these activities was an option anymore, not with your so called husband at least, you thought for a moment “we can go to that farm I saw across from here, with the small abandoned house, we can spend the day there together” he nodded “I will send the servants to prepare it for us at once” you shook your head “let us not, you are the one who said we should do as I wish, and I wish for us to be alone and uninterrupted”

He raised an eyebrow at you “you are a queen, you shouldn’t do mundane chorus like cooking and cleaning” you shrugged “for tomorrow, I’m not a queen and you are not a king, we are a man and a woman” it took him a minute but eventually he was convinced, you grinned, perhaps, away from the flashiness of a ruler’s life, a different side of your husband will appear, a side that made Freyja certain of the wellness of this match.

[hc-geralt-23]

hi love, saw you asked for scenarios so i was wondering if you could maybe write about uhtred with a really clumsy reader like he's always patching her up after she gets injured and he scolds her a lot but she's just really calm and it's whatever to her

Sure

Title: The Clumsy Love

Uhtred was a fierce warrior, feared by many. He had fought in countless battles and had scars to prove it. But there was one thing that made him feel vulnerable, and that was his love for a clumsy reader.

She was always tripping over her own feet, bumping into things, and getting herself into trouble. Uhtred would often find himself patching her up after she got injured, scolding her for being so careless.

But she was always calm, never getting upset or flustered. It was as if she accepted her clumsiness as a part of who she was.

One day, Uhtred was out hunting when he heard a loud scream. He rushed back to the camp to find his love lying on the ground, clutching her ankle.

"What happened?" Uhtred asked, kneeling down beside her.

"I tripped over a rock," she said, wincing in pain.

Uhtred sighed, shaking his head. "You need to be more careful," he scolded her, as he began to examine her ankle.

"I know," she said, smiling up at him. "But accidents happen."

Uhtred couldn't help but smile back at her. Despite her clumsiness, he loved her more than anything in the world.

As he wrapped her ankle in a bandage, he realized that her clumsiness was just a small part of who she was. She was kind, intelligent, and brave. And he wouldn't want her any other way.

From that day on, Uhtred stopped scolding her for her clumsiness. Instead, he embraced it, knowing that it was just a part of the woman he loved.

Together, they faced many challenges, but they always did it with a smile on their faces. For Uhtred, there was nothing more beautiful than the clumsy love he shared with his reader.