#ragnarssons' reactions

[bilbotargaryen]

Ivar: You are all entitled to be proud that you're ruled over by a god.

Hvitserk:

[imtryingbuck]

Jealousy? Never.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Ivar Ragnarsson x fem!Reader

Summary: Ivar the boneless jealous? Absolutely not.

Word count: 862

Warnings: possessive and jealous Ivar. fluff. slight angst. insecurity (ivar). naked reader - not sexual. mentions of murder (not detailed). shorter than i honestly wanted it to be, sorry.

A/N: thank you anon for sending this request🤍

Masterlist

Ivar’s jaw was clenched painfully tight that Ubbe thought he was going to crack a tooth or two. Jealousy burning his veins as he watched the scene before him. Hvitserk was playing with fire and he knew it, Ivar knew it, everyone in the Great Hall knew it, not that he cared as he continued to dance with Ivar’s queen.

You didn’t see a problem with having fun and have a dance with your brother in law, however your husband clearly thought differently, his blunt nails digging into the wooden arms of his throne, it wasn’t until he banged his crutches down loud enough to catch the attention from everyone in the room - without saying a word he walked out.

That was your queue to follow.

Bidding goodbye to Hvitserk and thanking him for a wonderful night, you made your way towards your shared chambers, twisting the lace of your dress nervously as you pushed the door open. “Husband.”

“Husband? I’m surprised you remembered.” He muttered as he unlanced his braces. “You were all over him tonight.”

“I-I was-”

“All over him! My brother.”

Flinching at his tone, you lowered her head. “It was a dance, nothing more. I promise.”

“He was all over you.”

“It was a dance Ivar I swear.” Carefully shuffling closer to him, to nervous of his reaction, when he didn’t react to your action you knelt down in front of him. “I was just having fun, I’m sorry.”

Raising his hand, he smoothed your hair out of your face - loving the way the soft strands felt against his rough fingers. “He wants to fuck you.”

“Don’t be silly.” The glare he gave you took the smile straight off of your lips. “I do not want him, I swear.”

“You are mine.”

“Yours, and yours only.” It was true, you didn’t want any other man, it was always Ivar from the moment you saw him one day in the market. He was sat on the steps leading up to the Great Hall, a scowl on his face as he watched people walk around, standing by your fathers stall as he spoke to a customer you couldn’t take your eyes off of the man. From that day on, you kept a look out for him, when you saw him crawling around you didn’t even find it weird or funny - not like your father. It took you nearly three months to gather the courage to speak to him, finding him sat on the beach on his own, you were a stuttering mess - only getting worse when he told you he was one of the princes of Kattegat, but from there a friendship was formed between the two of you. He told you several months later that when he became king he wanted you by his side as his wife and queen, at first you thought he was joking but his face said otherwise. When the brothers and the Great Heathen Army went to England to avenge king Ragnar’s death, Ivar made sure he took you with him, against the wishes from his brothers, whilst over there you two got married and from that moment he called you queen. “I love you and only you, Ivar.”

His only reaction was to pout. The ruthless, fearless Ivar the Boneless sat there on the bed he shared with his wife pouting. “You could if you want.”

“Could what, my love?”

“Have him, or-or anyone.” He whispered, twisting your wedding ring around. “It can not be easy with being married to a cripple.”

“I do not wish, want or need anyone else Ivar. I am happy, I am loved- you do love me d-”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence! You know I love you.”

“And you know I love you.” Turning you hand around, linking your fingers with his. “Please never ever doubt me.”

“I didn’t like the way he was holding you.”

“We were just dancing Ivar.”

“Still don’t like it.” He huffed. “Only I get to touch you.”

“Yes, only you get to touch me.” Lifting up and walking over to the vanity you removed the heavy crown that was given to you by Ivar, you began to attempt to undo your dress.

“Want a hand, my love?”

“Please.”

“Come here then my beautiful queen.” Standing between his legs, your skin began to tingle as he fingers danced along your bare skin. Turning around as the dress pooled around your ankles, his hands went straight to your naked waist. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Climbing into bed after helping Ivar undress, he instantly pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arms around you. “Ivar?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I like it when your jealous.”

He huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m never jealous.”

“No, of course not.” Giggling at the memories of all the times Ivar threatened and even killed men who looked at you longer than he deemed necessary, doing it all out of jealousy. “The great Ivar the boneless doesn’t get jealous.”

Rolling his eyes once again with a soft smile tugging at his lips as your giggles filled the room. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

Tags: @cheesesandwichsanto

[witchezandwonderz]

Whispers of the Seer

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 1.8 k

Ivar’s fist thundered onto the wooden table before him, in turn almost breaking it clean in half. The sudden noise caused your breath to catch and your heart to flutter slightly, although you steadied yourself in a desperate attempt to show as little emotion as possible.

He looked at you, curiosity clouding him. He wanted a reaction from you. In fact, he could almost say that he needed one, for you had shown not an ounce of feeling since he had met you a mere days before. Ivar was used to evoking emotional reactions; it was fair to say that most, if not all residents of Kettegat were scared of Ivar, and his unpredictable ways. You were different.

You had appeared in the dead of night days before, for you had been experiencing the most intense, vivid visions. You had experienced visions since you were a mere child. Your mother and father had kept it quiet, as they knew what would happen if you were found to be a seer. They were not ready to let go of their little girl.

But, as you grew older, so did your visions and connections. You felt yourself growing more powerful, and you wanted to know more. You ran away from home once you felt restricted; you knew that your parents had your best interests at heart, but the gods had chosen you, and that was more special than any human love you felt.

You had visions of people often, both ones whom you recognised, and whom you had never seen before. Ivar was the first that you felt compelled to seek and guide. His bright blue eyes were scratched into your memory, and you felt the need to be close to him. As close as possible. You had always seen Ivar, since you were a child, but not often; a few times a year, perhaps. You did not know his name, you only knew what you saw, and that was not a lot. As you grew older, you pieced information about him together as though it were a puzzle.

You had known that his father, Ragnar Lothbrok had died; that night, you lay as you saw a brief picture of Ragnar in a snake pit. Since that night, your visions of Ivar became more intense and frequent than ever before and you knew that it was finally time to go and visit Ivar, and tell him everything.

“Do you know who I am?” Ivar's voice was low, venomous, but with a thread of curiosity woven through it. “What I am capable of?”

You tilted your head slightly, your hands clasped before you. “I do,” you replied, your tone even. “I know more of you than most, Ivar Ragnarsson. I know the weight of your pain, the fire of your ambition. And I know what the gods have shown me of your future.”

The room grew still, the air charged with unspoken tension.

Ivar breathed, a wide grin stubbornly stood on his lips as his eyes bore into you. Using both hands to grip the steel chair in front of you, you leant forward, ensuring to not break eye contact.

His eyes squinted slightly. “How convenient,” he began, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “that the gods have sent me a seer—one who just so happens to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

You stiffened but kept your composure, your hands remaining clasped before you.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his grin widening as he spoke. “Do you know how many women have tried to impress me? How many have thrown themselves at me, hoping to worm their way into my favour?” He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And yet none of them were what I wanted. Not one of them matched the image in my mind of what the gods should send me. And now, here you are.” He peered up at you, expecting some sort of reaction. But much to his dismay, you stared at him with the same blank expression, despite your thundering heartbeat.

“I’m supposed to believe,” he continued, his voice now low and sharp, “that out of all the women in all the kingdoms, the one who stands before me now—the perfect match for my tastes, my desires—was sent here by the gods?” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head again. “It sounds like a story a fool would believe.”

Your eyes narrowed, "you are a fool to think that the gods are so against you." You snapped, the echo of your works ricocheting throughout the room. Ivar's head consequently snapped up, his eyes widening due to the sheer shock of how you would dare to speak to him in such a way. His lips curved into a small smile; he liked it.

Ivar nodded his head, in turn encouraging you to continue. To which, you obliged. "Ivar, when your father died, my visions got stronger. I have always seen you, since I was a child. The gods are trying to tell me something. Destiny is not kind, Ivar. But it is powerful. And the gods do not make mistakes. I have seen you, in every vision, as clearly as I see you now. You are everything I have ever pictured, everything I have ever longed for, even when I didn’t understand what it meant. And I believe they sent me here because we are meant to shape each other’s fates." Your words came tumbling in a chaotic manner. This is the first time that you had shown any slight inkling of being a human being.

Ivar's grip tightened on the table in front of him. Silence rang in the air, as he quite clearly fought with his thoughts. You almost turned around and walked away, however, Ivar's sudden words broke the quietness.

"Everything you have ever longed for, you say?" His words were low, and teasing. You looked up at him in disbelief; after all that time, and all that tension, that was all that that he could think of?

"You do not understand both the weight and importance of my words." You shook your head. "You must start taking life seriously now, Ivar. You need to focus, if you want to be a leader." You spoke loudly, frustration soaring through your body.

Ivar was both shocked and overwhelmed. He did not understand why he was allowing someone to speak to him in such a way, and yet he knew exactly why. You were everything that he had ever dreamed of, and more. You were telling him your exact thoughts and feelings, while also making him feel as though he were the most important person in the world, and he could not fathom why.

"Prove it to me. Prove that you are who you say." He demanded, now a sense of seriousness planted on his face. He looked at you expectantly, an arrogance in his demeanour, in an attempt to mask his vulnerability.

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you, not faltering in the face of his simmering anger. You had seen his past—his childhood, his memories. The pieces of him that no one else knew, that he himself had buried. It was now time to lay them bare. You began to tell him stories of his childhood; his mother telling him stories about the gods, waiting for his father to come home.

"Lucky guess, perhaps." He said, his eyes darting between your eyes and lips.

You took a deep breathe. "Fine." You said. "You want something more personal?" You asked, your eyes peering up at him. He nodded in response, clearly amused. "You remember the first time it happened," you whispered, watching his face closely. " She was little, and blonde, the complete opposite to me. The first time you gave yourself to someone, thinking it would make you feel more… more like a man. More powerful. But it didn’t. It didn’t feel the way you thought it would. It was messy, uncertain, and for all the bravado you showed, there was a deep, gnawing loneliness underneath. It wasn’t just about taking what you wanted. It was about seeking something more—seeking connection, seeking validation. But that connection didn’t come from anyone but yourself."

Ivar's jaw clenched, he could not believe that you knew the details of his life- personal details, personal memories. His lips parted, as though he had intended to speak. He however, did not.

"And all the women that came after that, and I believe that there were many, were not good enough. You did not enjoy them, any of them." Your voice became low, as you stepped forward, closing the gap between you.

His gaze intensified, a mixture of confusion, longing, and something else—something dangerous—flaring in his eyes.

You smiled softly, a confident smirk curling at the corners of your lips. “You’ve always been searching for me, Ivar. And now, here I am, standing before you. No other woman could ever compare to what we’re meant to have. To what we’ve always had.”

In one swift motion, he reached for your waist and pulled you towards him. He looked at you for a moment, his breath hitching and his body stiffening for a moment. And then, just like that, his lips crashed onto yours with an intensity that left no room for hesitation or doubt.

The kiss was hungry, desperate. His hands found their way to your back, pulling you into him, his touch urgent and possessive. Your knees weakened at his actions, for his touch felt right, and his possessiveness was something that you yearned for.

Your hands tangled in his hair, deepening the kiss as the heat between you both soared higher.

Ivar pulled away just enough to look at you, his lips swollen, eyes dark and searching. He stared at you, as though trying to memorise the very essence of you in that moment. “Do you know what you’ve done?” he rasped, his voice husky, thick with desire and something else—something deeper. No woman had ever made him feel this way; he had never wanted someone so much, respected someone so much.

You barely had time to respond before he kissed you again, more urgently this time, his mouth claiming yours with a raw intensity that left no room for hesitation. His hands moved to the small of your back, lifting you up against him, the need to be closer, to feel every part of you against him growing unbearable.

He pulled away suddenly, causing your eyes to flutter open as you look up at him. His eyes darkened, "You will guide me." He stated, causing you to in turn nod your head. His grip on your waist tightened. "You are mine." He stated, his words laced with emotion. His words caused your stomach to erupt with a feeling unfamiliar to you, nervousness.

“I’ll kill anyone who dares go near you,” he growled. You could feel the raw intensity in his words, the promise of violence that came with them. You had proven yourself to him and it was as though he saw you as something precious, something irreplaceable, and he would protect you with every ounce of his being.

“And if anyone dares doubt your visions,” he continued, his voice low, “if they question the gods or the fate that binds us, they’ll meet the same fate. No one will ever dare challenge you or the truth you carry. No one will harm you.”

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Kinktober Day 26: Overstimulation- Ivar Ragnarsson

Summary: Ivar shows his new wife just how much pleasure a cripple can give her

Word count: 2, 002

Many people would think that being wed to a prince would be a blessing, especially if he was a brave warrior as well, but those people did not have to marry Prince Ivar. Your mother had assured you that he couldn’t be too bad, but you had heard differently. The many awful stories from many people ran through your mind when you had to walk up that aisle.

Now you sat beside him at the celebration of your arranged marriage and he had still not spoken a word to you. He’d barely even glanced at you since you’d wed five hours earlier, even the kiss he had to give you was barely a peck. Although it was disappointing to have such an inattentive husband, from what you heard it was better than the wrath he could inflict on you.

Despite Ivar’s actions you still managed to have a good evening thus far, his three elder brothers being a lot more charismatic and funny than your new husband. Your previous anxieties were beginning to dull as Hvitserk and Ubbe continued to make you laugh with tales of their childhood and adventures.

While the alcohol seemed to make you feel more excited and Hvitserk and Ubbe to be more funny, it seemed to have the opposite affect on the youngest of the three, Sigurd. The more he drank the more passing comments and glares at Ivar he seemed to dish out. The other two brothers did a good job of distracting you to not notice, but the elder brothers, and unfortunately Ivar, definitely did notice.

So far others had managed to distract Ivar enough that he didn’t react as violently as Sigurd had hoped, that was until a certain comment seemed to cut just a little too deep.

“You know, Y/N, if you ever notice that Ivar is lacking as a husband, I’m more than happy to keep your bed warm in the evening. I mean hahaha I am sorry to say but he is a cripple with a cock that doesn’t work!” He loudly laughed, unknowingly embarrassing himself as he was the only one laughing.

The room stood still, most people in the large hall having heard the suggestive comment.

At hearing such a crass comment you couldn’t help but choke on your wine. It was the forwardness of such a suggestion that caused you to cough out your wine, but unfortunately Ivar thought you were laughing.

“This is my wedding, Sigurd! Y/N is my wife!” His intimidating voice boomed at his brother, startling you slightly.

“Ivar, careful.” Ubbe gently warned as all eyes landed on your table.

With dangerous eyes, Ivar snarled at both you and Sigurd before angrily hobbling away on his crutch.

Even though Ivar was apparently a brute and hot-headed, he was still your husband and you believed his reaction was warranted.

“Wait! Ivar!” You found yourself calling after him as you ran to catch up with the surprisingly fast Viking.

Ivar made you follow him all the way to your shared bedroom, his steps fast and full of understandable rage. If you hadn’t been quick enough to catch the door with your palm, it would have slammed right in your face.

Stepping into the spacious room you make tentative steps towards your rage-filled husband.

“Ivar?…” you quietly call to him.

His head quickly whips around to you, a rage-filled look etched onto his face. Before you could even attempt to calm him, he had you pinned to the door, his strong forearm digging into your chest.

“You are my wife and you laugh with my brother about me.” He angrily growled at you.

“Ivar- I-I…” You began, before his strong hand around your throat stopped you in your tracks.

Seeing your startled reaction to his anger seemed to switch something in Ivar. Though he was infamous for his rage and his bloodthirsty reputation on the battle field, you were his wife and though many saw him as a brute, he didn’t want you to despise him. Ivar had worried what you’d think of him or that he’d ruin his chance at this relationship working out, that’s why he’d been so distant.

His breathing seemed to calm, his breaths coming out in slow huffs through his nose. Though his grip on you loosened and his breathing slowed, he still had a dangerous look in his eye.

His eyes never leave yours as his hand around your throat descends. The light touches across your chest and abdomen surprise you, there was fire in his eyes but grace in his touch. As his hand makes its way to your hip, he grasps it tightly in a strong hold. Though his hold was strong, it was not violent, it was filled more with passion then pure anger.

“What my brother says about me is true, my cock does not work. Though I can not bare you a child, I can however still bring you pleasure and consummate this marriage.” He confidently declares to you.

His gaze was so intense and his voice so powerful, you had not noticed that both of his hands had moved to the neckline of your dress. It wasn’t until you heard a loud ripping sound and you were pulled slightly away from the door that you noticed where his hands had moved to. Your eyes widened and your body shuddered, but whether it was from the strength your new husband had just shown or from the sudden warmth of the fire on your exposed skin, you couldn’t be sure.

Taking his eyes away from yours, they traveled down to your now exposed breasts. His strong calloused hands began holding and squeezing them, looking upon you with marvel.

“You are a beautiful woman, and you deserve someone who can provide you with the pleasure you deserve. Let me show you how much pleasure I can provide.” He tells you, his eyes once again landing back on yours, his gaze softer now.

One of his hands leaves your breast, making its way to cup your cheek lovingly. You lean into his soft touch as he brings his face closer to yours. His lips press against yours in a kiss that is both gentle and passionate. Your tongues do not meet, but he seems to have no problem showing his passion and causing your core to flutter in excitement.

“Take off your dress and lay on the bed for me, my beautiful wife. I will show you just how much pleasure a cripple can give you.” He tells you, his forehead resting against yours as dominance returns to his voice.

Intrigue filled your body and mind as you quickly pushed off the door, the eager way you rush to remove your clothes causing your new husband to chuckle. His eyes never leave your body as new skin is exposed to him.

Finally laying on the soft furs of the large bed, you find your breathing getting heavier just from watching Ivar make his way over to you. Though he walks with support from a crutch, there is still dominance and power in every step.

Finding his place on the edge of the bed, his fingers lightly trace from your ankle to your inner thigh, goosebumps following the path of his light touch. His passion filled eyes meet yours again as his fingers inch closer to your core. Your legs instinctively bend and spread at his touch.

Taking his other hand, his strength surprises you once again as it wraps around your thigh and drags you closer to his seated spot. Your surprised yelp quickly becomes a moan as his fingers make contact with your warm wet core. He has barely touched you and already your body is alight. Dragging his fingers up and down the length of your pussy, his eyes marvel at the way your body responds.

“You’re so beautiful and you’re all mine.” He speaks softly, almost like he’s speaking to himself.

“All yours, Ivar.” Your soft voice speaks up, causing his head to shoot up, like you’re a dream he’s just realised is real.

His eyes become slightly dangerous again as his strong fingers begin to push into and circle your sensitive bundle of nerves. The way your head pushes back into the soft bed and the sweet moan that escapes your lips, drives Ivar wild. He craves to hear more of your sounds as he positions his body to be between yours legs.

Leaning down he begins to bite and kiss your already quaking thighs, desperately trying to pull more of those sounds from your gorgeous lips.

The feel of his fingers on your clit mixed with the hot kisses he leaves all over your sensitive skin is quickly pushing you to your release. You can feel your core tightening, desperate to come undone.

“Oooh-Ooohh! Ivar, I’m gonna cum!” You call out, your nails digging into his strong forearm.

“Mhmmm. Do it, my love. Scream my name and let everyone hear who makes you feel so good.” He demands, the force and speed on your clit growing more intense.

“Oh fuck! Ivaaarrr!” You scream out in pleasure as your head shoots back in pleasure and your nails dig into his skin harder.

As you lay there catching your breath, you barely register your husband manoeuvring your body to lay against his against the headboard, until you feel his fingers on your sensitive clit.

“Ooohh Ivar! It’s too much!” You pathetically cry out.

His strong arm wraps itself around your centre, holding your squirming body still. You attempt to escape the intense pleasure by closing your legs, causing Ivar to growl and bite at your neck.

“Do not deny me your sweet sounds, my darling wife. I wish to draw as much pleasure out of you tonight as your body is able to take. Be good and keep your gorgeous legs open for me.” He growls lowly in your ear.

Though the overstimulation begins to hurt slightly, you can not deny such a command.

Your next orgasm approaches embarrassingly quickly as you loudly shout Ivars names once again, your head slamming back onto his chest. Ivar chuckles delightedly at your state of overstimulated pleasure.

Once again giving you no time to come down from your orgasm, Ivar deftly thrusts two fingers into your wet pulsing pussy.

“Oh fuck!” You shout out in surprise at the intrusion.

Wasting no time, his fingers begin to curl and thrust into you as his arm holding your middle moves slightly to rub your clit. The combined pleasure of Ivars skilful fingers hitting the sweet spot inside you and rubbing deliciously on your clit is too much for your body to handle, and once again your body thrashes and scream out in overstimulated ecstasy.

“No more, Ivar, no more.” You weakly beg him, your mind feeling fuzzy and your body heavy at the way he’s now made you cum three times.

“Just one more for me, my gorgeous princess. I know you can give me one more.” He almost begs you, sweetly kissing the side of your face as his hand strokes along your inner thigh.

“Just one more.” You weakly nod to him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He excitedly chants as he kisses your cheeks and his fingers return to your clit.

The light chuckle that his sweet kisses cause are quickly cut off by a loud moan of pleasure. This being the fourth time of the night you will cum, your body takes barely twenty seconds before it is thrown into a feeling of blinding ecstasy once more.

The pleasured scream that leaves your body is animalistic as your body goes completely limp against Ivar. Breathing heavily, your eyes begin to close as you feel sleep taking over you.

“You did so well, my love.” He gently coos as he positions you under the soft furs.

His strong arms wrap around you and you feel a sweet kiss on your forehead before you fall into a blissful sleep.

[disasterofastory]

The good guy (Hvitserk x Reader)

The good guy Hvitserk x Reader Warnings: Reader is a few years older. And let's pretend that the age difference between Bjorn and his brothers is much smaller. Oral.

Summary: mordern!Hvitserk wants to show you he is the one you need.

The fake leather sticks to the back of your thighs as you push yourself next to the wall in the booth Bjorn chose for the night. A small grimace contorts your face at the uncomfortable feeling. Reaching down, you grab the hem of your skirt to pull on the fabric. Jeans may have been a better choice, but it doesn't matter now.

The pub is loud and smells like cheap beer and spicy snacks. The noises of the others mix with the game playing on the TV in the corner. Your eyes land on the screen for a second, and when the ball doesn't reach the goal, your attention turns back to the pair in front of you.

Bjorn and his girlfriend sit next to each other. The blonde man's arm is around the girl's shoulder. She is busy with her beer while her eyes scan the crowded place. Her makeup softly glints under the lights as she turns her head to the side. "Hvitserk and Ubbe will be there in a few," Bjorn says after a few seconds. His bright eyes are still on the screen of his phone. "Torvi too." "Won't it be awkward?" You ask him, glancing at Gunnhild. "It's fine," the man replies. "It was two years ago."

Their relationship didn't end well between them, and when you heard about the new love blossoming between Torvi and Ubbe, you couldn't imagine the family holidays at the Ragnarsson household.

"If you say so," you hum, holding your glass to your lips and frown when you notice Bjorn's smirking at you with mischief in his eyes. "What?" You ask him. Gunnhild grins too. "I heard something the other day," Bjorn muses. "And?" You ask. "A conversation between Ubbe and Hvitserk," Bjorn adds. "You know what?" You groan at his teasing. "I don't care. Don't tell me!" "Okay," he continues grinning. All of you know you won't keep long from questioning the burly man to spill the tea. There must be a good reason why Bjorn wants to tell you something about his two younger brothers. "Oh, come on!" You groan again. Your palm lands on the wooden table with a smack. "Tell me!" "Hvitserk likes you." Gunnhild is the one who has mercy on you. Excitement glints in her eyes as she waits for your reaction. "I mean... we are friends," you tell her, shrugging. You know all of Bjorn's brothers. Ubbe and Hvitserk are your friends, and Sigurd and Ivar don't hate your presence either. "You don't understand," Bjorn shakes his head. "He likes-likes you." You freeze, staring at them. "No," you reply, and your friends laugh. "Yes," Bjorn argues. "I heard them talking about you a few days ago. He is quite smitten with you." "And they are here," Gunnhild adds, keeping her eyes on the entrance of the pub.

You feel your stomach dropping while you watch the newcomers approaching your table. Half of your mind still tries to process Bjorn's words. Can it be true? You always thought about the brothers as Bjorn's younger siblings. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Hey, guys!" Hvitserk's cheerful voice breaks the line of your thoughts. Your eyes wander up at the young man who is already watching you. Heat creeps up on your face at his attention on you, and you force your gaze to move onto the couple next to him. And it doesn't get better. Ubbe and Torvi watch you with a strange glint in their eyes. Or maybe you are just imagining it. "I need a drink," you gasp. "Can I get you anything?" "I will go with you," Bjorn says, standing up to follow you to the bar. "Sit down, guys," he adds. "We will be back in a minute."

"You think too hard," Bjorn says, standing next to you while you wait for your orders. "I'm not," you murmur, looking down at the counter. "I'm fine." "What's wrong?" He asks, leaning closer. "I mean, I'm the most handsome brother, but Hvitserk is a good guy too." "How can you tell that?" You ask, frowning. Eyes still on the wooden surface. "He is your little brother." "And I know him," Bjorn reasons. "You always choose the wrong guys," he continues, and you grimace. He is right. "Hvitserk would be good." "He is younger than me." The man scoffs. "So? Look, Hvitserk is like a puppy. And I mean it in a good way. And the younger lads always try to prove themself harder..." "Yeah, I remember," you murmur. "You really proved yourself back then to a lot of women." "Yeah," he nods, not trying to deny his past. "But it was me. Hvitserk is different." A heavy sigh leaves your lips, and you can't help but feel pathetic. You are already deep in a relationship that doesn't even exist. Hvitserk said nothing about his feelings for you. Maybe it isn't even true. Maybe Bjorn heard it wrong, and you stress yourself for nothing.

You are so stupid.

When you get back to the table, Ubbe and Torvi are already sitting at the end of the table on two chairs while Hvitserk stands next to the booth to give you enough space to climb back to your seat. "Thanks," you murmur and trying not to jump when his hand lands on the small of your back as you walk past by him.

You are so deep in your panicked thoughts you don't even notice Hvitserk's eyes on you. And it's really surprising since it seems like the young man can't tear his attention away from you. The skirt highlights the curve of your hips and is short enough to give enough space for his wandering gaze on your bare thighs. His palm tingles with the need to put his hand on you. He is sure you are soft and warm and everything he wants.

Ubbe's snickering shakes him up from his staring. He doesn't even feel bad about it. He feels good and content when he looks at you. Hvitserk doesn't even know when and how his feelings turned about you. You were always the girl who came over to his older brother, and before he knew it, he wanted you to spend time with him too. And wanted much more too.

"And how's the game?" Ubbe asks, glancing up at the TV. None of you care about it. "They run," Gunnhild replies. "A lot." Hvitserk can't help but smile at your laugh. His fingers curl around his beer to keep himself from touching you.

The night goes amazingly. You laugh and drink a lot but can't seem to forget the closeness of Hvitserk next to you. He radiates warmth and happiness. The cologne he uses covers your senses. His thigh brushes against yours from time to time.

"Halfdan?" Bjorn's voice brings you back to reality. When you look at him, he is already watching you with a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah. Y/N could talk about him." "You know him?" Torvi asks, surprised. You shrug. "We dated for a little while." Hvitserk frowns at your words, but you don't notice it. His lips press into a thin line. "How was it?" You shrug again. "We didn't match." You went on a few dates with Halfdan, and while you enjoyed your time together, you found out soon enough that Halfdan was ready for a lot of things but not for a serious relationship. "Maybe you should date his brother," Ubbe suggests, laughing. "He was already married at least three times." "Yeah," you hum. "My dream is to be his fourth wife." "Isn't he old for you a bit?" Hvitserk asks, and your company needs all its strength not to laugh at the blonde man's jealous words. Heat rises up in your veins as you turn your head and look at him. A playful grin pulls on your lips. "Do you have something against older men?" Hvitserk doesn't care about older men or the brothers if they keep their distance from you. "Maybe we should go," Ubbe suddenly says, already standing up from his seat before his brother can say something to embarrass himself. "Ubbe is right," Bjorn nods. "It's late." You and Hvitserk need a few seconds to tear your gazes away from each other. "Hvitserk, maybe you should walk Y/N home," Torvi says, linking her arm over his boyfriend's. "It's dark outside." "Oh, no," you start. "You don't have to." "I do," he replies. "A walk would be nice." "I bet," Bjorn murmurs with a smirk. "I will call you tomorrow," he adds louder, watching you until you nod.

After saying goodbye to the others, you stay alone with Hvitserk. He walks by your side in silence for a few seconds. "So that's why you didn't come over for the few last weeks?" He asks after a while, keeping his gaze on the ground the whole time. His hands are in his coat pockets. "What do you mean?" You ask back. "Halfdan," he explains. "Oh," you hm. "No. I had a lot of things to do, and now that Bjorn moved out, I didn't really have the reason to go over." "Ivar misses you," he says, and you laugh. "I'm sure." "No, seriously," he clears his throat. "You can still hang out with us, right?" "I mean... yeah, I guess." You can feel your pulse in your throat as you wait for where this conversation will lead. "Or you could hang out just with me," he adds. "Ivar is boring anyway." You laugh again just to earn yourself more time to think about your next words. "I'm sure you have better things to do than spending your time with me," you tell him at the end. Your voice is quiet and unsure. You don't know what you should do. "Not really," he says. You can see his arm moving from the corner of your eyes. "I like being with you." Your heart jumps up to your throat next to your pulse when you feel his warm hand on you. His fingers are intertwined with yours. "Hvitserk," breathing out his name, you stop in front of the door of your flat. Your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip as you look down at your hands. "You are really beautiful tonight." You laugh. That damn Ragnarsson charm. "Hvitserk..." He steps closer. His free hand lands under your jaw to push your head up until your eyes meet. His thumb pulls out your lip from between your teeth. "What are you doing?" You ask him. You have to force the words out because of your barely working lungs. "I like you, Y/N," he says. No embarrassment or uncertainty shows on his face. "Hvitserk..." You sigh, trying to say something, but your brain doesn't really want to work either. He smirks. "I like it when you say my name." "You can't... It's not... You are..." He patiently waits for you to finish at least one sentence. The young man really likes the way you fluster in his presence. His thumb still caresses the soft line of your bottom lip, and his other hand slips to your waist to pull you closer. Your front is pressed against his. He can't help but glance down at your cleavage. "Are your roommate home?" "My eyes are up, Hvitserk," you tell him, smirking. "I know," he grins. "They are pretty too." "Be serious," you tell him even though you can't swipe the smile off your face. "I am," he replies, looking up into your eyes. "I like you, Y/N, ever since you came over four years ago, crying because your ex broke your heart." "Really? You needed my broken heart to notice me?" You tease. "Of course not," he says. "You were always pretty in my eyes. But that was the moment I realized I would be much better for you." "Hvitserk..." "What? Don't you like me? Or because of Bjorn? I don't think he would have anything against us... I mean, did you see his love life?" "No," you reply, shaking your head. "He wouldn't mind, I'm sure." "Then what?" He asks, pressing you closer to himself. "My age? It's just a few years, Y/N. It's nothing." "Hvitserk, I know you," you reason. "You are almost as bad as Halfdan. And don't tell me it's not true. I saw the different girls you brought home almost every week." "But they weren't you," he says. "They weren't important. But you are." "Hvitserk, I really want someone for the long run..." you tell him honestly. "I want a good relationship that can grow into more in the future. I don't play games anymore." "And I can be that guy," he says. "Let me prove it, Y/N." His words fan over your lips. "Let me in." When you say nothing, he leans even closer and kisses you for the first time. His lips are soft and taste like cheap beer.

And something snaps inside of you.

Your arms curl around his neck as you let him deepen the kiss. The gentle nibbles become bites on your bottom lip until he coaxes your mouth open for free access to your tongue. His kiss is searing and takes your breath away at once. Your lungs burn when he breaks away.

His words vibrate on your swollen lips when he speaks. His forehead is against yours. "Open the door, Y/N." "Hm?" You hum, still dizzy. A soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips. His hand slips to your ass to grab a handful of your flesh. A grunt echoes in his chest at the feeling. "The door, Y/N. Open it." "Oh," you gasp. "Right."

He watches you fiddling with your keys with amusement. You are flustered and breathless. The taste of your lips still tingles on his own. His heated gaze rakes over your body from behind. The skirt hugs your bottom perfectly. His hand moves on its own accord to touch you again, but he decides against it at the last moment. No, he won't act like a dog in heat.

At least not in front of your neighbors.

Hvitserk barely slides inside your house before pushing the door close with his leg. His hands find your waist again, and when you turn to face him, he kisses you again. Your back falls against the wall, and your fingers curl into his blonde hair at the nape of his neck. His presence covers your every sense. Your nostrils are filled with his smell, your fingertips are warm on his skin, and your lips burn with his taste.

"Go to the couch," he hums against your lips before kissing you again. His tongue ghosts over the line of your bottom lip.

You need every strength in your body to do as he says.

"Sit down." "You are really commanding," you state, still following his words. "I want to taste you before you change your mind," he says. In contrast to his words, his smile is soft and almost innocent. "You... what?" You gasp, shocked. His smile turns into something much more wicked as he falls to his knees before you. Even the view is enough to make your thighs shake and your inside tremble. "Open those legs for me, Y/N," he grins. His long fingers fiddle with the straps of your high heels, moving up to your calves, and when he reaches the curve of your knees, he rises both of your legs after another to kiss them. "Hvitserk!" You gasp, slapping down on the couch under you as you grab the edge when he pulls your legs apart. "You don't have to." "Oh, Y/N," he hums. "But I want to so much." "Oh!"

The breath you keep inside your lungs burns you. The skirt runs up on your thighs as your legs open under Hvitserk's heavy gaze. His fingers dig into your thighs. He plays and gropes the flesh all the way to your bottom. Another gasp escapes your lips when the man grabs you again to tug you to the edge of your seat. The skirt you wear hides nothing anymore. "It's pretty," he grins, playing with the lace of your panties. "Interesting, I always imagined you as a black lingerie woman." "I have black ones, too," you breathe out quietly. He smirks. "Maybe next time." His thumb glides over your pussy through the thin fabric. He can feel your folds and the wetness that coats your most sensitive parts. Your thighs jerk when his touch reaches your clit. He teases the hard bud until your panties are soaked. "You are so wet already," he says with satisfaction dripping from his words. It really makes him happy. It means to him that he is not the only one who feels attraction. You are not here in front of him out of pity or worry that you would hurt his feelings and damage your friendship with his oldest brother. You really feel something. Something that can grow into more if he doesn't fucks it up. "Let me..." he hums, and without waiting for your answer, he pulls down your panties with a swift motion. Soon, the fabric lies on the ground, forgotten. The cold air on your pussy makes your whole body shiver with anticipation. "You have no idea how many times I imagined you just like this," he says, staring at your center intently. "Open and wet for me." His finger glides over your folds, smearing your wetness in the process. "Hvitserk," you breathe out his name, urging him to stop his teasing already. Your whole body is tense with waiting and burning desire. "I'm here," he smirks, leaning closer. His words fan over your aching pussy. Your thighs want to close on their own accord, but the blonde man's shoulders stop them. His fingers dig deeper into your flesh. He can't get enough of the softness of your skin. His cock is painfully hard in his jeans, but he forces himself to focus on something else. And it's not a difficult thing to do when you are in front of him with spread legs and soaked cunt. A sharp gasp escapes your lips when he closes the space between you. His tongue flattens on your pussy, taking a teasing lick of your wetness. Your juices spread across his tastebuds. His eye fall shut at the feeling.

Hvitserk devours you to his heart's content while you squirm and whine under him. His tongue flicks your clit a few times before sinking his finger into your pussy and sucking at you at the same time. Your back arches, and your mouth falls open into an airy moan. You can feel the throbbing of your heart between your legs. It jumps and speeds up at every swirl and push Hvitserk does with his tongue and fingers. He spreads his two fingers inside you, stretching your walls and finding every sweet spot that makes you cry for more. To cry for him. "Hivtserk," you moan. "I-I-" "Cum," he groans into your pussy. His eyes bore into yours. "Cum for me, Y/N. Let me drink from you." Your head falls back at the whirlwind that runs through your body. Your muscles are taut, almost painfully so. You can't even breathe as the climax washes over you with full force. Your fingers find their way into his curls. You tug on the blonde strands, and Hvitserk moans. He wants you to use him for your own pleasure. He wants you to find pleasure in him, not just in the bed but everywhere else too. After years of silently watching you and craving your body with equal need with your laugh and pretty smile, he is ready for everything. He is ready to accept everything you want to give him.

When you win back your consciousness, Hvitserk is still between your legs, resting his head on your thigh with a cheeky grin on his lips. His lips glint with your wetness. "Hey." Heat creeps up on your face. "Hi." "I will pick you up at seven tomorrow," he suddenly says, standing up from his kneeling position. A quick kiss on your lips reminds you of what happened a few minutes ago. "What?" You gasp. "Hvitserk... what?" You watch his receding form as he makes his way to the entrance door of your home. "I thought..." You point at your room with your thumb. The confusion is clear on your face. When he looks back from the door, he can't help but stop for a second. You are so goddamn beautiful. Your hair is a mess, your eyes still shine with the remains of your climax, and your lips are swollen and red from his kisses. He really needs his every self-control not to turn back and take you to your room for more. "Nope," he says, popping the p. "Date first. Tomorrow. At seven." "But..." "It was just a taste, Y/N, because I couldn't help myself." And with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone with shaking legs and a dizzy mind.

Oh, gods!

[lisinfleur]

His trash, my treasure - Hvitserk story would be like...

The request:

Author’s Notes | It took me a loooooong time to post it (years, I know. I’m sorry…) But here it is! I hope it comes in good time. Info | Viking Age AU. Inspired by Björn’s reaction in Ragnarssons In: His trash, my treasure. ⁑ Warnings: None.

Children are so easy to conquer!

Boys are easier, but girls are not impossible.

The boys were easily carried away by his stories.

Girls would usually be taken by his titles.

But being a prince didn't catch that little girl's attention,

Not even being Ragnar's son made her feel safer with him.

She ran away several times before allowing him to lower himself to her height.

She spent long moments of silence before answering even one of his questions!

There were days of little nods before the first word.

Her name was all he could get for weeks!

The interest attracted her mother, of course. It was the goal from the start.

However, the little girl won his heart before his plans were made.

She was a calm child. But why was she so scared?

First, he wanted to understand for himself.

Then, he called her mother to talk and understand.

What a stupid idiot her father was, uh?

So, he thought that one girl wouldn't be enough. 

The asshole wanted a man who would later take his place.

He took the girl in his arms.

And he smiled when she gave him a little hug around his neck.

One of his hands encircled her mother's waist.

If that's what that bastard wanted, then he would be the man to take his place.

And he would train and teach that little girl as if she were his.

Then later...

She would be better than any of her father's dreams.

He would make that family his pride.

And if her dad came back and tried anything

He would send him to find the closed doors of  Valhalla with the shame he deserved to feel!

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Want to be tagged? Ask me!

[jenn2sec]

English vers.

Prologue New Series (RAW):

❝ Sapphire's Mind ❞

“Who is she?” Uhtred asked, staring at the woman riding in behind Sigefrid. She was young, strikingly beautiful—she looked almost divine.

Finan raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question. It was unexpected, especially coming from Uhtred Ragnarsson. If it had been Lord of Mercia, it would have made more sense. “You don’t know? Seriously?”

Athelred, too, gave Uhtred a puzzled look. Great—even the Piggy Lord knew who she was!

“Indeed, I don’t. You tell me or not?” Uhtred frowned, a little annoyed that he was the only one left in the dark.

“You must be joking,” Finan muttered as his gaze shifted to the white-haired woman had just dismounted from her horse and was caressing Sigefrid. “A witch, a seer, a woman who escaped slavery by defeating nearly a dozen Danes who tried to hump her. After that, she somehow won over the brothers and their army.”

Quite the reputation, especially for someone of such striking beauty. Aethelwold interjected, his tone light but dripping with characteristic sarcasm:

“But she’s most famously known as Sigefrid’s ‘Not-Yet-Wife’—Laeranys, The Outsider.”

“What?” Uhtred didn’t take his eyes off Laeranys, and for a moment, their eyes met. The brothers and the Danes around her roared with laughter, clearly enjoying Uhtred and his man reaction.

“Interested in our woman, Uhtred?” Erik called out, more laughter followed. But Laeranys didn’t seem to care, nor did she mock or shy away from the attention. Her two-toned eyes stared back at anyone in Uhtred’s company who dared to look her way—calmly, as if for granted.

Athelred squirmed under the mocking laughter and command Uhtred to avert his gaze, Uhtred ignored him. “The Outsider? What does that mean?”

Athelwold smirked as Uhtred turned to him for an explanation. In his usual sly manner, he replied:

“She comes from a place far beyond our lands—not England, Ireland, or Denmark, but somewhere even further… a land across the world, called Westeros.”

︾︾︾︾︾︾︾

i have to apologize and confess (again) up front that English is not my strong point, so i dont have enough knowledge to describe Finan's Irish accent (i am VERY sorry for not giving you guys the best experience!!)

Also, this is a "preview" of a project that i think is pretty cool, i've already imagined the content for its "scenes"!

it will run parallel between tlk and hotd, the characters of both sides will be mentioned and appear. in addition, this is also a combination with several other series (can be called super series plus ultra?)

hope y'all like it! have a great day (or sweetdream) ☻☻

[azure-firecracker]

I thought I’d do a liveblog reaction to the ATLA live action so this is just a chaotic stream of my thoughts as I watch. Spoilers ahead (fyi I’m going to be tagging these as “atla stream of consciousness”)

Episode 1 (Part 1)

The fire nation theme already got me excited lol.

Earthbending CGI is slightly sketchy. You can tell firebending got the whole budget

Firelord Sozin doesn’t have enough gravitasse imo. Like the music is out evil-ing him.

Oh shit they are getting graphic.

“Which is why we have to kill them all” that’s very on the nose.

I don’t recognize anyone bending in the intro but it looks cool (who’s narrating though?-they’re not doing a good job)

Air temple looks gorgeous!

AANG IS SO CUTE I CAN’T!!

I know people have complained about him being able to fly but it doesn’t really bother me. New universe, some new rules can apply (within reason).

“There may come a day where you wish you had spent more time with your teachers” THAT’S SO CRUEL (specifically cruel to me).

“Great comet festival” all I thought of was the musical.

I can see the Tibetan influences more evidently in the Air Nomads that’s cool.

Aang and Gyatso are so sweet omg!

I need to rewatch The Storm but does Aang know he’s the avatar or not in the original? Gyatso telling him feels new to me.

Edit: I’ve been told that he does find out but months before he runs away, and the thing that sets him off is being told to leave (thanks @ragnarssons !) For me it makes a little more sense the original way but I don’t deeply care.

Gordon’s delivery on “I never asked to be special” OKAY THIS KID CAN ACT.

This Aang and Gyatso scene has me emotional wow. Do more of this and less burning people.

I already knew that Aang didn’t run away and I get streamlining some stuff but I do think it was a pretty core trait to change and having him be slightly more morally grey would have been more interesting, especially because his monologue was already leading there.

The Fire Nation people do not need to say “we’re gonna kill everyone” so many times. Do they think we don’t understand?

Airbending CGI looks pretty good too.

I get why they’re showing people burning and it makes sense I just really have trouble watching it.

In terms of showing the Air Nomad genocide, I can understand why they did it. When you’re doing a reimagining, especially with the tonal shift, it’s good to have a new beginning or a new something to set yourself apart from the original. It’s a different story and that’s okay. That being said, I don’t like how gruesome everything is. I feel like a lot of the same fear factors could be achieved without showing everyone (especially Gyatso) burning, and it feels like it’s violence for the sake of shock value trying to be edgier or something (I also don’t like gruesome stuff generally so that may be me).

More to come! These are long so I’m splitting them up a lot because I have MANY thoughts.

[thyshadowwriter]

Vikings headcanon ragnarsson reaction to seeing each other again in vallhala

Ubbe:

Assuming he filled the requirements, he’s the one with a lot to tell. His deeds may not be as famous as his brothers, but he went farther than any of them. He made a name for himself separated from his brothers. He spread the legacy over the seas, made what Ragnar failed to and unlike Rollo, remained a true norseman. He is happy to see his brothers, but he’s happy to have proved he can be one without them. He expected to see Bjorn there, but it is Ivar that gets to him. They died without making amends and being inValhalla, they finally can leave behind the bad blood they had in life.

Ivar:

Whatever his differences with his brothers (and everyone else) were, he now has absolutely nothing to prove to anyone. He has marked his name in history, he and everyone else knows he’s among the select hall of most famous and fearsome warlords that ever came out of norse history. Ivar is proud of himself and will be happy to see his brothers again and mend the burnt bridges, after all, he did love them.

Hvitserk:

He’s Athelstan now.

Bjorn:

The one everyone knew would be there. Bjorn does not care any longer for the differences he had with his brothers and other warriors, he’s in Odin’s hall and that was his life goal. He’s more than happy to talk about and hear his brothers stories, to fight and drink with them, to live in the afterlife with them with lightheartedness they very briefly had in life.

Sigurd:

Didn’t die in battle.

[flysafepapi]

Vikings ask ragnarsson reaction to seeing each other in vallhala

Okay, I haven’t thought as much about this, but here goes. (This is assuming they all made it there, which wouldn’t be the case for a few of them but we’re gonna ignore that for this.) (I apologise in advance for the wall of text. None of this is based in fact, only my opinions.)

Bjorn’s reaction would be mixed, both happy to see them there, probably still irritated about how everything ended up. Definitely still pissed at Hvitserk about Lagertha, but I think they’d both work it out after fighting to the death a few hundred times. I can’t see him and Ivar becoming friendly even in the afterlife, they both represent two different aspects of Ragnar way too strongly to ever get along for more than a few minutes at a time.

Ubbe, I feel, would mostly be happy that his family is back together again, regardless of how everything ended when they were all alive. Maybe a little less enthused to see Bjorn again, because I feel like, as the second oldest/oldest of Ragnar and Aslaug’s children, there’d be a little too much competition between them, even if they’d both never call it that. (We all know they’d be still vying for their father’s attention as they’re both, through different mothers, his oldest)

Hvitserk is the true middle child (I can relate bc me and my brother are both the middle children of all our siblings), so while he’s probably going to be hesitant at first, he’s absolutely the peacemaker of the family, so he’s gonna be doing the Absolute Most™️ to get everyone to either apologise to eachother for all the shit they did to eachother (extremely unlikely when dealing with Ivar) or just to at least pretend it never happened and move past it (much more plausible) Definitely goes towards Ivar first, a little because Ivar is not-so-secretly his favourite, but because a thousand years spent in the afterlife couldn’t make him drop the habit of making sure Ivar wasn’t being an idiot and overexerting himself. (It was supposed to be Ubbe’s job as the oldest but it was always Hvitserk that took over that instead.)

Sigurd is the tricky one, because he wasn’t really developed much in the series, and what little development we did get wasn’t the positive kind, so it’s difficult to say what I think his reaction would be. There’d be a heavy amount of annoyance in there, that “Oh my god, I can’t escape these people even when I’m dead” kind, but I think the more time that goes by, the more he’d mellow out and actually stop being so standoffish all the time. Except when it comes to Ivar. Those two are never making up, ever, being within six feet of eachother either ends in one getting killed until they come back the next day (I don’t know the exact time, I don’t know much Norse mythology), or they’re going to act like the other doesn’t even exist.

Ivar’s secretly going to be happy to see them again, minus Sigurd, but would never, ever admit it. Honestly I’m sure he would rather do literally anything else than tell Bjorn that maybe he doesn’t hate the mere sight of him. Hvitserk gets a pass on that, only when Ivar is sure they’re alone, and only if he promises never to ever tell anyone else. Gotta keep his reputation, of course. (Floki also gets another pass, but no one is surprised by that one, anyone with eyes could see that Floki absolutely has a favourite and it’s Ivar.)

[therealcalicali]

Vikings ask modern au ragnarsson reaction to ivar pranking them on April 1rst

Interesting question, hun.❤️ I'm certain not everyone would take kindly to being pranked.

Ubbe would be very annoyed but pretend like everything was fine. However, he would complain about the prank anytime Ivar wasn't around.

Bjorn simply would not take it well at all. In fact, he and Ivar would end up in a shouting match.

Hvitserk is easygoing enough, so he would simply laugh it off. But he would eventually return the favor with a prank of his own.

Sigurd is way too hateful towards Ivar to remain civil. So, the prank would devolve into a fight or something even worse.

[hellisateenagewerewolf]

Vikings ask ragnarsson minus bjorn reaction to sigurd killing ivar

I’m not sure what you mean

[ivarsrideordie]

Vikings ask ragnarsson reaction to sigurd killing ivar

@lisinfleur is the person that does reactions. Thanks!

[lisinfleur]

His trash, my treasure: Ubbe's story would be like...

The request:

Author’s Notes | Onde more for you guys! Info | Viking Age AU. Inspired by Ubbe’s reaction in Ragnarssons In: His trash, my treasure. ⁑ Warnings: Warnings

Sneaks into her life one step at a time. 

How pretty is your little girl, isn't she?

As pretty as her mother, indeed. 

Little praises all the time, seasoned by his beautiful smiles always open for her.

She's smart. 

She's intense! 

What man wouldn't be blessed with a child so full of life!?

What man wouldn't feel blessed with such a woman all for himself?

Doesn't want to speak about the ex.

He threw away his place, let us throw away his memory. 

Men like this don't need to be remembered... 

Slowly erases her ex-husband's memories. 

Slowly takes it upon himself to build a new story for this family.

This family.

His family. 

There is not a single soul in Kattegat that would say it differently. 

Doesn't stop until the little girl can barely remember she had a father before him. 

Doesn't stop until the woman misses it one day. 

And call her ex-husband by the wrong name without notice.

Opens a big smile when it happens. 

Rats must be forgotten. 

Spoils to the victor, after all.

Do you like my work? Support me!

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[alicedopey]

Vikings ask ragnarsson minus bjorn reaction to seeing the originals

I don’t watch it, sorry.

[alfredofwessex69]

Alfred pays close attention to Aethelflaed’s reaction to his mention of the fateful brothers, studying her, before listening to her musings of the border village to the North. He nods as he listens intently, a few thoughts forming in his mind, but his stoicism remains unwavering.

“I do think it to be wise, to fortify such lands in such a vulnerable position. It does not surprise me to witness the Lord Uhtred’s loyalty to you, as he has always expressed an obligation to you that held beneath it deeper care and concern.”

Alfred brings his gaze upon her, speaking in a hushed tone once more. “You have that advantage over me, my dear. But what if I told you that I could bring about something only God’s grace could bestow in this lifetime?” His eye contact is sincere, though a darkness is hidden behind it. “Throughout my rule… I have come to know many things. As a King must be all knowing. I have used this to its greatest extent and power…

For your forsaking Uhtred Ragnarsson, I can offer you the greatest gift,” Alfred takes her hand softly on the table.

“God’s mercy on the father of your child,” Alfred whispers. “Curated by your King, and only one decision away from your reality.”

@theladyofmercia

Aethelflaed hurries to the courtyard to welcome her father to her estate. She puts on a smile as she approaches him, her hands rising to take his as Alfred presses a kiss to her cheek.

"Father, Lord King, to what do I owe such a happy surprise as this? Why did you not send word of your plan to come to Saltwic? Since this is a surprise, I'm afraid it will take a bit to prepare your rooms. But it is no hardship," Aethelflaed smiles again, "as I'm sure you have much news to share."

@theladyofmercia

“It is no worry, my dear. You mustn’t fuss over me,” Alfred gives her a small smile as he fondles her hands in his for a moment. “You look very well. I regret to have caught you in such surprise,” he arches a brow as he looks her over. “Though, I will be no burden. I simply come to visit my daughter and to speak with the Lord Uhtred. It will not be a tiresome visit.”

Alfred nods to Steapa, urging him to follow him in an unspoken gesture. “Tell me, Lady of Mercia,” he speaks softly and lovingly. “Is this estate to your liking?”

@theladyofmercia