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esmeefreckles · 7 days ago

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Special night | Alexia Putellas x Kika Nazareth x reader

+18 SMUT MINORS DNI

WARNINGS: BLOWJOB. FINGERING. LIGHT DOM/SUB. PRAISE KINK. MOMMY KINK. ORAL SEX. VAGINAL SEX. VOYEURISM STRAP-ONS. FACE-SITTING

A/N: If you see a mistake no you didn't, I'm sorry this is barely proofread and English is not my first language.

“And the driver was none the wiser?”

“Well, he didn’t end up charging a cleaning fee, so I’m assuming not.”

Alexia’s eyebrows raise, her expression reading as deeply impressed in a way that has Kika preening from where she’s perched on one of the benches, towel draped casually around her neck. “Kika, you saucy little minx,” she chuckles as she resumes racking weights and re-adjusting the plates, presumably resetting the equipment after their drills. She’d been grumbling all afternoon about the “mess” the younger players left behind, and it seems to be the only thing keeping them late at the gym today.

Kika runs a hand through her sweat-damp hair, as tousled as the training ground after a scrimmage. “I’m very proud of you, though. I think she likes to think she’s a quiet little mouse in the sack, but that’s probably just her mind protecting her from the thought of our neighbors knowing what it sounds like when she’s coming for me.”

A snort escapes Alexia. “Has there ever been a time when you haven’t been pulling the most ungodly noises out of that woman. I feel like when I sat in the gym the other day, she saw you doing that arm work, I swear I heard someone choke.”

“Could’ve been anyone, but likely her,” Kika says with a smirk, idly examining her nails. Gods, how intoxicating it is to have such a complete hold on you.

“She will really let you do anything to her, though,” Alexia observes. “The cold Swedish football princess doesn’t seem like the type to let just anyone fingerblast her in the backseat of a rideshare.”

“You know firsthand how persuasive I can be, Alexia,” Kika reminds with a heavy note of flirtation. Then again, that tends to be the most commonplace communication happening between the two of them, so the heaviness isn't entirely out of place, even if Alexia eyes her with a hint of reproach.

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you. You've been jealous of me before; I’d like to not have a repeat performance.”

Kika scoffs lightly, leaning back on the bench and arching her back somewhat as the scoff tilts into a laugh. “A repeat performance of my princess jealousy, or of our…”

“Kika,” Alexia interrupts before she can finish, earning another laugh.

“Oh, Alexia, you know you would be invited if we ever did anything again.”

They both pause, Alexia’s eyebrows shooting up again, this time in surprise and amusement as the meaning of Kika’s statement sinks into her mind.

“Was that a proposition?” Alexia asks.

“I…” Kika blinks, and then blinks again, forcing herself to move past her own shock. “I didn’t mean for it to be.”

Maybe Kika has gotten too comfortable, too close, with their usual flirting. Seems to have gotten her wires crossed somewhere, clearly.

“It certainly sounded like one,” Alexia replies with a hint of a smile, unable to resist a spot of teasing. “You haven’t asked me to participate in a threesome with you in a long time.”

A slew of images cascade through Kika’s mind, images of Alexia with her front to Cata’s back as Patri sank into Kika, her skin already glittering in the low light of the candles she’d lit; images of her and Alexia kissing in front of and around the thickness of Patri’s strap.

“What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours, Kika?” Alexia breathes, her work abandoned as she rests her chin in her hands. “Speak to me, and do try to make it coherent.”

Kika flips her off quickly, on instinct, before saying in a soft tone unbefitting of the new thoughts swirling in her mind: “I’d have to talk to you first. As far as I’ve pushed her, it’s always been a conversation first.”

“Understood,” Alexia replies with a sharp grin. Her eyes slide to the time in big clock on the wall , and then to the door of the gym, and then to Kika again. “Go home and get some rest. Consider your options.”

“And your answer to this… proposition?” Kika asks.

Alexia’s grin only widens, “You already know my answer.”

And Kika does.

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

Kika sits in on that conversation for some time. It comes to mind every time she has you naked and begging, at the mercy of her hands, what it would be like if there were another pair of hands involved. How would Alexia fit into the dynamic, really. When they had their trysts with the other women, her and Alexia shared the dominant role, only ceding some of it to Lucy when they were with her; otherwise, they were in charge.

But one-on-one with Kika, Alexia has always been in charge.

But one-on-one with you, Kika has always been in charge.

There’s much to think about.

You're getting ready for some media work about two weeks later, Kika lazily watches you from where she’s wrapped up tastefully in the sheets rumpled by their luxurious morning sex. You are freshly showered and blow-dried, checking your hair and the alignment of your outfit in the mirror, when Kika clicks her tongue and gets up to fix something herself. She turns you easily, you pliant under her hands, and Kika grins at the way your eyes immediately trek downward to the peaks and valleys of her nude body.

“Your collar is crooked,” Kika murmurs as she straightens it out, fingers curling into it to pull you close enough for a sweet kiss before lowering from her toes and patting it down. “There.”

“Somehow, I feel like my collar was fine. Was this just a ploy to get me to kiss you?” you ask with a wry smile.

“A lady never tells her secrets,” Kika retorts, and then leans in again, whispering against your lips, “But, is it working?”

You chuckle into the kiss and let your arms come to wrap around Kika’s waist, the two of you exchanging sweet nothings for a few moments before Kika’s mouth gets ahead of her.

“Would you ever want to have sex with Alexia?” Kika asks.

You, still a little glossed over from the making out, manage an intelligent: “Huh?”

“Would you ever want to have sex with Alexia?” Kika repeats.

“Why would I want to have sex with Alexia?” you respond with a hard blink. “Why…why do you ask?”

“I’m just asking in general. If the time and place were right, would you ever want to have sex with Alexia?”

“You keep asking me that, like I’m not dating you,” you point out.

Kika shakes her head. “Remove me from the equation.”

“But I love you.”

“Baby, please, just humor me.”

You open your mouth, eyes narrowing as you try to formulate a response to a question Kika feels like is rather cut and dry, but is apparently much more thought provoking than she meant it to be. The whole point of it being direct and not about the threesome, at least to start, was to gauge interest in general, but clearly that has backfired.

“You’re going to be late, and I’d like an answer sooner rather than later,” Kika teases.

“I mean….I don’t know?” you manage, and Kika groans.

“Baby, you’re killing me.”

“Why are you asking me if I want to have sex with Alexia!” you exclaim. “I need….like.. context!” You pause, eyes wide, and look at Kika almost frightened. “Oh my gods, does Alexia want to have sex with me? Did she tell you that? Is that why you’re asking? Kika, I know we discussed ethical non-monogamy when we talked about an open or closed relationship, but I thought we agreed we were going to be exclusive and Alexia was just a fri…”

Kika waves her hands in front of you. “Baby, slow down. I don’t want to include Alexia in our romantic relationship, and I’m not asking my next question because I’m dissatisfied with our current sexual relationship. I’m actually quite thrilled by it, and by you, so...would you ever consider having a threesome with you, me, and Alexia?” Kika completes in a rush of breath.

Your eyes are wide, your brows furrowed, and you just stare.

Kika is starting to feel a little like she just fucked everything up.

“Please say something before I think I broke you,” Kika says after a solid minute of silent staring.

“A threesome?”

“I’m gonna put a shirt on.”

“You and Alexia want to have a threesome with me?”

“Really, it’s more like I want to have a threesome with you and Alexia, but if you’d prefer it described that way, yes,” Kika replies quickly as she grabs an overly large shirt and pulls it on so there are no more distractions.

You make a strangled noise as you lift your hair out of the collar of the shirt.

“You can obviously say no, it was just an idea I had.”

This time, you are at least moving while she’s speechless, running a hand through her hair as her jaw works up and down from clenched to relaxed and back.

“If it makes you feel better, Alexia’s great in bed?” Kika tries.

You blink at her.

“Have you had threesomes before?” you whisper.

Kika bites her lip.

Nods

“With who?” you ask, almost sounding like you’re gargling stones in a river, your words both wet and grating.

“I’m almost nervous to tell you.”

“Do it anyway.”

Kika takes a deep breath, and her face pulls into a slight wince as she says, “Patri, Jana, and Claudia.”

“Patri?!” you exclaimed. “I can’t believe you had, you had sex with my best friend while we were broken up!”

“To be fair, I wasn’t alone; Alexia was also there.”

“And… and Jana?” you continue, sounding like you’re beginning to spiral, your gestures increasing in fervor. “Claudia? I’m just..”

“I shouldn’t have brought this up when you have to go to a media day.”

You, at that, laugh loudly and rub your eyes with the heels of your palms. “Fuck, Kika, you…I can’t even…I have so many thoughts right now. I’m having so many thoughts right now, and I have to go to work.”

“Good or bad?” Kika asks with a wrinkle of her nose.

You make another strangled, river stone gargling noise as you gesture vaguely in a ‘kinda,’ at least to Kika’s perception.

“Just think about it,” she finally says, reaching out to smooth out invisible wrinkles in your outfit just to give herself something to do before she goes mental. “Consider it, and you can say no at any time, as usual and discussed. And it will not change anything about our current relationship, whether you say yes or no.”

“Uh-huh,” you agreed.

“I love you,” Kika adds as she leans up to give you a quick peck. “I just want what’s best for you in the end, so take your time.”

“I know.”

Kika smiles. “Say it back.”

A soft little smile spreads on your face, the confusion finally falling away. “I love you too, Kika.”

Kika glances over at the alarm clock on the nightstand and gives you a swift pat on the ass. “You'd better get going or you’ll be late.”

“Oh my gods, I have to go work,” you groan. “How am I gonna think about anything else?”

“I’m sorry,” Kika replies with another wince. “Just try not to think about it!”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen. All I see in my head is you and Alexia… doing.”

Kika purses her lips and then asks, “Do we at least look good?”

“Kika.”

“Sorry.”

“I have to… I have to go…fuck,” you curse. You grab your bag from next to the door, and Kika follows you, wringing her hands a little. When you catch that, you reach out to disentangle her fingers and hold one of her hands in your own, pulling Kika in by it to kiss her. “This is… this is not a no,” you continue. “I am going to think about it, seriously.” Your eyes darken a little, and you flex your jaw. “No promises, but I’ll try to get back to you at the end of the week.”

“Don’t give yourself a deadline on my behalf. Take all the time you need,” Kika assures.

“I’m gonna go.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Kiss?”

“Like you have to ask.”

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

Kika is shocked when you get back to her with your answer.

A resounding yes.

From there, it’s an immediate flurry of planning. Trying to find a shared free time alone is often a trial, but adding Alexia’s in is a whole other level of scheduling hell. Eventually, Kika proposes that it happens on a weekend where she and you would usually have a date night because they normally have the day reserved entirely for them, and really, she says, they are planning on still spending the day together, Alexia will just also be with them for the ride.

You don't mind that at all, it seems, judging by the way you blush when Alexia eyes you hungrily from across the table when you suggest a negotiation.

Kika can’t help but smile at how obvious you are. It’s cute.

By the end of their planning brunch, they have a video call planned while Alexia is abroad, making some promotions of her Nike clothing line so they can negotiate the terms of the threesome, and by the end of that, they all have a clear idea of what will be happening the following weekend.

Kika doesn’t want to think that she’s never been more excited for something, but this… she’s pretty damn excited about this.

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

The plan is for Alexia to arrive after dinner, 9 o’clock sharp.

Dinner is light but enough to give you both the energy that will be sorely needed for the night ahead of them. More preparations have already been completed by the time dinner rolls around: you changed the linens in your old room while Kika made sure everything they’d need was ready and available at an arm’s reach.

The bedroom thing was something you stipulated in the negotiation: nothing sexual with Alexia would be occurring in the bed you shared with Kika. Anywhere else in the house was fair game, and obviously the spare bedroom, but the master bedroom was off the table.

Alexia agreed to that readily and understandingly.

Now, you are washing the dishes from dinner, and Kika has slipped away to change out of her date night dress and into something more befitting of the situation. It’s certainly not her lingerie that shows off the most of her body, but you'd never seen this piece before: a short, deep blue nightgown hemmed in flowered lace that ends just above her midthigh, showing off her usually favored amount of leg when she’s in a seductive mood. There’s a thick strip of solid fabric before, around where her navel transitions into her belly, the sheer lace reappears and climbs up her torso to cup her breasts, held up by boning specially requested to support her breasts. Custom, just for her, and perfect for the night.

Kika tousles her hair in the mirror, leaving it down because she knows you like that best, and in that moment, there’s a knock on the door.

The front door.

Your footsteps echo down the hall to the master, and then the front door opens, and Kika hears muffled greetings being shared between you and Alexia.

She needs to hurry up.

The garters slide on easily, snug around the wide parts of her thighs, and she clips the stockings in with little fumbling before stepping into her heels.

That’s another thing they agreed on. At least, that she and Alexia agreed on.

Let you think that while, yes, this was a heavily planned encounter, that it would just be about the sex.

No, no, no.

Kika and Alexia have a production planned to make this night out of this world.

Alexia had joked you might never wanna go back to how their sex was before, and Kika just laughed.

Kika steps out of the master, the click of her heels indeed alerting you and Alexia, and she walks into the room steadily, one hand on her hip and the other loose at her side as she smirks at the little vision before her.

You are enamored with her immediately, eyes trained on the hallway before Kika has even stepped out. There’s already red lipstick on your mouth, and it’s certainly not Kika’s.

And Alexia, gods.

Alexia’s coat is hanging in the entry, leaving her in just a red bustier that can barely contain her breasts, and her own panties and heels.

“Did you drive all the way here wearing only that and a coat, mi reina?” Kika teases as she sits beside you, not waiting for Alexia to answer before grabbing your chin to bring you into a kiss of her own, writing over the claim Alexia made on you.

“I did, yes,” Alexia replies easily. Her hand is on your thigh, rubbing out then in, the perfectly rounded tips of her red nails grazing ever closer to the crotch of your pants. “I figured it wasn’t worth doing a quick change in the bathroom. Would ruin the experience.”

Kika pulls away and smirks at the love drunk look on your face.

“Besides, I wanted to see this one’s face when she let me in and I… well, let my body do the talking,” Alexia continues.

“That reminds me,” Kika breathes. “Where’s my greeting kiss?”

Alexia grins and plants the hand not on your thigh right between your slightly spread legs before leaning across your lap to meet Kika’s waiting lips, the two of them exchanging a deep, lazy kiss right in front of you, whose only reaction is to pant softly into the space your girlfriend and your girlfriend’s best friend are occupying.

“Gods, I missed how you taste,” Alexia whispers.

“There’s plenty more of me to taste tonight, if you’re patient,” Kika promises.

Alexia’s eyebrow lifts ever so slightly, a familiar expression of intrigue crossing her face.

“But it’s not just us,” Kika continues, pulling back and pressing herself further into your side with a grin as she folds her legs up beneath you on the couch. “We have someone else to take care of as well as ourselves, don’t we, mi reina?” she asks, dragging her fingers through your hair and curling a lock of it between her fingers as she looks innocently at you.

Your jaw is slack, caught between staring at Kika and staring at Alexia, whose hand is still stroking maddeningly close, surely, to the fly of your slacks and, more important, your likely aching cunt.

“How could I ever forget this sweet girl” Alexia coos with a smirk. “How could I forget the chance you’ve given me to ruin such a delicate flower”

Your eyes widen, finally choosing Alexia to focus on. “Ruin?” you ask meekly.

“It’ll be fun,” Kika whispers, kissing the shell of your ear. “Trust me.”

Alexia’s expression is wicked as she taps on the button of your slacks. “Do you want these off?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

Kika chuckles at the thinly veiled desperation already present in your words, and Alexia seems to recognize it too.

“I wish I could help you with that,” Alexia murmurs, kissing your cheek, tucking your hair behind your shoulder, before going down to your jaw, your neck, then back up to your ear like Kika had. “Unfortunately, that would be me going far too easy on you tonight, dear. Kika told me the first time you two had sex, all that time ago,” Alexia whispers in a continuation, her voice serene and still, almost with a lilt of curiosity. “That you came untouched.”

“No,” you whimper.

Kika grins and kisses your jaw. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands from us tonight, darling.”

“No, she’s not,” Alexia chuckles. “As much as I’d love to see if I could reproduce this effect, I don’t believe I have quite the same pull, but I will settle for a little…” And she brings her hand inward, shifting a little bit behind you to angle her arm better, as she presses over the seam of your slacks. “A little over the pants touching. See if I can’t get you nice and soaked through these slacks before I make you come in them.”

You moan softly at the first contact, squirming between the two of them as Alexia presses in lightly, just enough to elicit a response. You know you can be a quick shot, but you also know you’ve got a lot of rounds in you.

Kika grabs your chin again, turning you so she can smile at you, take in your blown pupils, eclipsing your irises completely. You feel an arousal pulse in your center at the wreckage they’ve already wrought, and how there’s still hours left in the night. And Kika kisses you, slipping her tongue in beside your own. Kika swallows the sounds Alexia’s pulling from you, delighting in the changes in their intensity as Alexia varies her pressure and movements.

“Why are you muffling my hard work, Kika?” Alexia asks.

“Is it a crime to want to kiss my girlfriend?” Kika retorts.

“When it’s ruining my aural experience of this threesome, yes.”

In the time it takes for Kika to try and come up with a comeback for that, Alexia presses in, and you gasp and moan loudly at a very firm circle on her clit that Kika can only imagine is shooting fire through your body.

“There you are,” Alexia coos. “Just the sounds I want to hear from my pets.”

Your eyes go lidded as you look at Alexia, and Alexia just grins at you.

“Don’t you wish Alexia were actually touching you, dear?” Kika chuckles as she starts unbuttoning your shirt, a simple, short sleeved button down that she shrugs out of easily, leaving you in a just as simple bra. “Don’t you wish she would reach under your panties and actually give you what you want?”

“Yes,” you breathe, gasp, arch as Alexia firms up again. “Yes, please, Alexia. Please.”

Alexia tuts. “I told you what I’m here for. These pants aren’t coming off until you’ve soaked them in cum.”

Kika digs her nails into your knee to ground herself, trying not to let Alexia’s words affect her as much as her brain wants to. There’s something about Alexia that is just a perfect exultation in dominance, in power. Her words could send anyone to their knees, but staring across her writhing girlfriend at Alexia has her feeling hot and wet, and she can only imagine how your underwear is faring if Kika is already slipping under Alexia’s remarkably effortless sway.

“Does it feel good, baby?” Kika asks, then. She kisses your shoulder, undoes your bra, and tosses it and the shirt aside to be cleaned up later.

“Not good enough,” you whine.

“Aww, is this not giving you what you need to do what I want?” Alexia chuckles as she starts to speed up, and Kika can see a dark spot growing between your legs. “I know you’ve come untouched before, and I’m touching you now. Surely, that should be enough. Right, Kika?”

“Sometimes all it takes is a little talk,” Kika says softly, remembering your first time.

Alexia grins and presses her forehead into your temple, still circling between your legs as her finest weapon, her tongue, prepares its next series of strikes.

“Is that all it takes?” Alexia prompts. “What kind of dirty talk do you like, beautiful?”

“I…I don’t know,” you whimper.

Kika feels her heart speed up.

“You don’t seem like the type to be degraded,” Alexia observes softly, a certain level of thoughtfulness crossing her face as her hand slows, only making you groan. “But you also didn’t seem the type to have a threesome, so perhaps, perhaps you could surprise me.”

“You’re just taunting her now, Alexia,” Kika chuckles.

“Oh, I know.”

“Cruel.”

“I’m just trying to puzzle you out,” she purrs, kissing your ear again. “Are you a bad girl?” she asks, but there is no reaction.

“A good girl,” she continues, and Kika watches as your eyelids flutter and your thighs squeeze around Alexia’s hand. “Ah… I’ve found it,” she chuckles. “All I want from you right now, you, is for you to come. Same as you.”

You moan loudly as Alexia presses with the full breadth of her palm against your clit. She begins to circle.

“You’ve soaked your slacks so thoroughly, Kika may need to have the couch steam cleaned,” Alexia chuckles. “Such a naughty little thing, making more work for her when all you’ve done is sit here and take it. Once I’m done with you, oh, once I’m done with you,” She trails off, quickening her pace, and your breath catches in your chest, unable to take more in, and Kika squeezes your hand as Alexia makes eye contact with you. “Then Kika and I will have our fun.”

“Fuck, fuck, Alexia,” you whine. “Fuck, please, I’m so close, Alexia, fuck me, gods…”

“Such a good girl, begging me to make her come,” Alexia grits out, jaw clenched as Kika can only imagine an ache has sparked in her arm from her fervor. “Are you gonna come in your pants, without me even touching you properly?” She laughs darkly, the melody turning downward as Kika pinches your nipples and Alexia purrs into her ear, “Be a good girl and come for mummy.”

Kika inhales sharply and feels herself clench around nothing as you arch off the couch, your hands shooting out either side of you to grab a piece of both Kika and Alexia, the sudden orgasm rocketing through you.

Alexia palms you through it roughly until you are panting unevenly, sounding almost like you’re hyperventilating, and Kika reaches out to touch Alexia’s hand and still it.

“Such a good girl,” Kika breathes, kissing your cheek. “Well done, baby.”

“I’m never gonna be able to wear these pants again,” you gasp as you catch your breath.

“Not without thinking of me, dear,” Alexia teases.

They share a laugh about that, the scene breaking for but a moment before Alexia’s standing. “Kika, dear?”

“Yes, Alexia?” she replies with a grin, turning out of your side.

“Are you going to be strong enough to get her to the bedroom, because I don’t intend on having you ravish me on the couch. Too juvenile,” Alexia says with a slide of her eyes toward you, who just stares back at her glossily, maybe not even taking in the implications there.

“I can help her,” Kika replies.

“Good girl,” Alexia says with a grin, reaching down to cup Kika’s chin and tilt her head up so their eyes are locked as she says it. It makes the smile slide off her own face, replaced by hunger, wonder, lust.

Kika does as instructed, helping you up onto your jellied knees and up the stairs to the spare bedroom, where Alexia tells you to undress the rest of the way and enjoy some time spent reclined. Enjoy some time spent observing.

Alexia, then, turns her attention to Kika and crooks a finger at her. “Come here, pet. It’s time mummy got some attention.

Kika walks over, Alexia coils some of her hair around her hand and tugs backward, eliciting a gasp that opens her mouth up for Alexia’s tongue to pierce inward. She moans into the kiss, into the tight, radiating pain in her scalp, as Alexia drinks from her lips, devouring her without having to do more than simply be.

“Fuck,” Kika curses as Alexia’s teeth latch onto her bottom lip harshly.

“I intend for you to,” comes the smart reply as Alexia drags Kika to the ground by her hair, sending her harshly to her knees.

Kika swears as her knees hit the hardwood with a thunk. She sees you jerk up a bit, but Kika minutely shakes her head and mouths I'm okay to get you to relax again. Then, Kika looks up at Alexia, looming above her with an air of imperiousness. From the position below her, to the derision in Alexia’s eyes, to the pain in her knees, everything is so achingly familiar. You would never be so rough with her, and Kika would never want you to be… But Alexia brings out a different need in Kika.

“Take my panties off, pet, would you?” Alexia breathes, finally releasing the grip on Kika’s hair.

Kika raises her hands to do so, but Alexia grabs them out of the air before they can meet the elastic, and Kika glares at her. “What are you doing? Using your hands would be too easy, Kika,” she states as if the answer is obvious. “I want you to do it with your teeth.”

You inhale sharply behind her, but Kika can only focus on the sharp pulse of arousal that spears down into her gut, throbbing deep in her core as she takes in Alexia’s command.

“Well?” Alexia prompts. “We don’t have all night, pet.”

Kika exhales shakily and leans up on her knees, crossing her ankles behind her to kick off her heels in the process. She noses at Alexia’s hip, kissing around the band of her panties before trying to grasp them with her teeth, failing at the first two passes as they simply snaps back to Alexia’s skin.

“You can do better than that, surely,” Alexia chuckles. “Don’t you want to go down on me?”

Kika rolls her eyes and tries a third time, this time biting, pulling away, and then using her lips to hold and drag them down Alexia’s thick thighs. Once she’s reached the other woman’s knees, she lets the panties drop the rest of the way to the floor, and Alexia takes the opportunity to step out of them and her heels, situating them at the end of the bed tastefully before she seats herself on the edge.

“There we go.” Alexia reaches behind her own back to start undoing the clasps of her bustier, and Kika stares up at her hungrily from the floor as, clasp by clasp, the garment begins to lean away from Alexia’s skin, until she tosses it away easily, and Kika has a full view of the gentle rise and fall of her breasts with her breath. She runs a hand through her sleek hair before spreading her legs to reveal her arousal, cunt glistening between them, mouthwateringly open to Kika. “Go ahead, then, pet. Feast.”

And Kika does.

Kika is voracious. Where Alexia devoured her in a kiss, Kika devoured her at the cunt. She licks and sucks and laps, everywhere and everlasting. Her chin and nose are slick within moments as she goes down on Alexia with a single-minded focus, her old tricks coming back to mind as Alexia moans and guides her by the hair, tugging and smoothing as she works.

You would never have guessed they had spent time apart sexually with how quickly Kika works her up, with how quickly Alexia’s breaths begin to come in pants rather than measured huffs, her thighs beginning to tremble on either side of Kika’s head. She’s still domineering throughout it all, murmuring commands just loud enough for you to hear behind her, lighter, harder, faster, more, my clit, my hole, touch me , and in what feels like both an eternity and no time at all Alexia is coming for Kika, clenching on three of Kika’s fingers as she tongues firmly and sharply over her clit, pulling the most debaucherous noises out of her before she pulls away, painted in slick.

“You have certainly not forgotten how to please me, Kika,” Alexia breathes once she’s recovered, threading her fingers through Kika’s hair to soothe the irritation she inflicted.

Kika hums and licks her lips before dragging her hand over her face to clean the rest of her face. “I have quite an exceptional memory of your body.”

“Let’s see if mine holds up for yours,” Alexia purrs as she begins to scoot back on the bed, beckoning Kika to undress and come closer until their positioning has Kika on her back beside you with Alexia straddling one of her thighs. “And feel free to continue enjoying the show, beautiful."

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” you replied, looking between the two of them darkly.

Alexia kisses Kika soundly as her hands wander, pushing her legs apart as her mouth descends to her neck, her heaving chest. She begins to nip and suck at her breasts, denying each of them any significant amount of attention in favor of teasing both equally. Kika squirms as one of Alexia’s hands begins to creep up between her legs, flattening on her navel as her thumb pulls up the pierced hood of her clit. Alexia takes one look at it, and Kika takes one last full breath, before there are hands and tongues and teeth. Two fingers press inward as her palm grinds on her clit, her mouth renewing its attack on her breasts as she gasps and heaves for air.

Kika turns to the side to look at you, her eyelids drooping and her eyes watering a little. After so long of giving and observing, she gets to receive, and her poor body has been so wound up that now the stimulus is almost too much, scattering sparks through her prostrate body as Alexia descends on her. But all she has eyes for is you, and her eyes trail over your body down to where you are fucking yourself, one hand curling its fingers within you as the other massages your clit.

“Enjoying the… the show?” Kika asks, breath hitching mid-sentence as Alexia sucks a bruise into her neck.

You nod. Your mouth is open, but all that comes out are whimpers, whines, and moans. Together, they’re like a chorus of obscenity, only interrupted by Alexia’s stray dirty talk.

“Kiss me,” Kika commands softly as she feels her orgasm cresting. “Kiss me,” she repeats without waiting for an answer.

You stare at her, and you both crane your necks toward each other, and your lips are the only things in place to muffle the scream that erupts from Kika as Alexia makes her come, stars bursting behind her eyelids as she arches off the bed before tearing away from you to cry and gasp.

The three of them settle, Alexia lying at Kika’s other side, as they both lazily watch you bring yourself to a second climax, certainly more subdued than the one Kika just experienced. It feels like time doesn’t exist at this moment, the three of you lazily sharing kisses as your bodies come back into focus, the heaviness of orgasm escaping them.

Yet, there is more to do.

A finale, of sorts.

Alexia is the one to move first, stalking over to the dresser where she begins to rifle through drawers until she pulls out a harness already fitted with a dildo for the wearer. She chuckles at it before grabbing another large, thick at the base dildo and turning back. You are propping yourself up on your elbows to watch, and Kika is still a little dazed from her orgasm.

“Are either of you going to help me with this, or am I going to have to do all the bloody work myself?”

That spurs you into action, Kika not far behind.

Alexia moves some of the straps away from the inner dildo in the harness and holds it out between them, her expression brokering no nonsense as she firmly and explicitly states, “Suck.”

Kika, ever receptive and used to Alexia’s commands, dives in to wet the dildo before you can even process what’s been asked. It fits easily in her mouth, smaller than some of the dildos she’s done blowjobs on for you, and she slicks it up easily before pulling back, a string of her saliva breaking with her movements.

“Good girl,” Alexia praises, grabbing the back of Kika’s neck to drag her in for a deep kiss. “Now, help me get this onto her.”

You blink as you’re abruptly bracketed in by two bodies, Alexia and Kika’s chests grazing you as they, as a unit, help Alexia step into the harness and raise it up to her hips. Kika, in front of her, smiles and very gently whispers, “Are you ready?” to which you nod, Alexia then pushes you onto the bed, urging you up to get comfortable on the pillows as Alexia fits the other dildo she had grabbed into the ring of the harness, making sure to jostle the harness enough that you can start getting some pleasure from the length within you.

“Is this gonna be another thing where one of you guys is just gonna watch, or..?” you start, a little breathy from Alexia’s purposeful rocking.

Kika climbs up onto the bed on her knees, shuffling over to kneel beside your head.

“What are you doing up here?” you whisper.

“I’m going to sit on your face, darling,” Kika says with a fond grin.

Your mouth drops open a little as you glance between Alexia, who has finally fit her chosen cock into the harness’s ring and is now lubing it generously, and then Kika beside your head.

“Can I get a color from you, darling?" Kika prompts.

“Green,” you replied immediately.

“Good girl,” Kika coos, tracing a lock of your hair down to the end. “You remember what to do if you can’t breathe?”

“Mhm.”

Kika leans down to share a sweet kiss with you before swinging her leg over your head, shimmying into place, and remaining aloft as she stares across the twitching plane of your torso to Alexia, two of her fingers splitting the lips of your cunt as she uses her other hand to angle the cock toward her opening.

“What are you waiting for?” Kika asks.

Alexia glances up at her, letting the tip enter her slightly as she grins. “You, darling. Take the lead.”

And Kika settles, lowers, and moans as your mouth is immediately on her, tongue parting her swiftly as you familiarize yourself with the territory between Kika’s legs. She leans forward, back arching and with her hands planted on either side of your torso, a shiver wracking her body at the immediate intensity of your mouth on her, renewing the sensitivity from the orgasm Alexia gave her minutes earlier.

Alexia sinks, then, and the noise you make is swallowed by Kika’s cunt, vibrating up into her and making her eyelids twitch and flutter.

“You have divine taste in straps, Kika, I must say,” Alexia sighs as she spears herself, slowing as she nears the thicker base. Her hips jog forward, encouraging it deeper and deeper until she’s settled fully.

“Are you just going to sit there and cockwarm while you watch me, then?” Kika teases. A bead of sweat slips down her back at a trickling pace, doing nothing to cool her off from the burning heat of your mouth on her, from the arousal pulsing through her body as she stares across at Alexia, bare, beautiful, and now bouncing on the strap-on attached to you, tearing visceral noises out of you that only heighten Kika’s enjoyment.

“Just wanted to make sure we were all ready for me to start,” Alexia chuckles, leaning forward and reaching out to steady Kika so she can kiss her, both of them propping each other up over you as they ride.

From there it’s ecstasy. Kika is throbbing, watching as Alexia takes her fill of you, listening as you react to the thrusting of the length inside of you, feeling your reactions vibrating deep into her soaking cunt. A feedback loop of pleasure for the three of them, from Alexia, to you, to Kika, to Alexia…

Kika screams as her orgasm tears through her, the tightness in her gut contracting to a singularity before exploding outward, her body taut as her hips jerk hastily against your mouth, chasing, smothering, choking the air out of you. Kika spares a wayward thought for her girlfriend’s breath, but there’s only the burning pleasure anchored to your mouth, and then Alexia is kissing her again, biting her lip, and into their liplock, Alexia sighs out her own climax, fingers tightening on Kika’s neck to ground herself as she moans.

Tap, tap, tap.

Kika is coherent enough to recognize the signal, and Kika crawls off of you as quickly as her weak knees will allow her to move. The gasp for air is loud, but it does nothing more than make Kika giggle as she collapses beside you.

“You were suffocating her, Kika,” Alexia laughs. And then, a moment of consideration later, “Could be that you were waterboarding her. She looks like she’s just been resuscitated from drowning, wet face and all.”

“Fuck…” Kika pants.

“Have you come, dear?” Alexia asks, directed at you, because she’s probably more than aware of Kika’s own orgasm. She’s never been a quiet cummer.

“Yup,” you replied intelligently, still panting.

Kika moves as best she can, so her head is on the pillow next to you, and she lets her hand rest on your chest, feeling the rise and fall of your rapid, gasping breaths and the pulse of your heart.

“I’m sorry for almost drowning you, darling,” Kika whispers, earning a giggle.

Alexia grins at both of you as she does the menial work of removing the harness from you, dropping it off in the bathroom before leaning in the doorway to observe you both as Kika pulls you in for a soft kiss.

“How quaint,” Alexia says dryly after a few moments.

Kika rolls her eyes and props herself up on her elbows to look at Alexia. “Are you still anti-cuddling post-threesome?”

“I’m not anti-cuddling post-threesome,” Alexia retorts smartly. “I’m just a busy woman with a very particular affinity for my own mattress when not engaging in sexual intercourse.”

“That was a lot of words to say you wanna go home and sleep in your own bed,” you mutter to no one in particular.

Kika chuckles and sits up fully, scooting to the edge of the bed. “So this is goodbye, then?”

“Until next time,” Alexia teases, walking up to Kika and kissing her tenderly. “Pass that one on to her, for me. I do not have the energy to go around this bed right now.”

You giggle, and Kika nods.

“Goodnight, Alexia,” Kika says. “Thank you.”

“Goodnight, girls,” Alexia replies with a grin. “Sleep well.”

“Oh, we will,” you say. “Goodnight, Alexia.”

Alexia runs a hand through Kika’s tangled hair before stepping out of the bedroom. She can be heard going down the stairs, and then the front door opens and shuts with finality.

“I’m going to go lock that,” Kika says, groaning as she stands up and stretches. “Fuck me.”

There’s a wet smack of your lips behind her, poised to say something, but before she can, Kika continues, “Not an invitation. I can’t feel my pussy right now.”

“I was going to ask if you could help me down the stairs to the bedroom.”

Kika gives you a dry look over her shoulder. “Sure.”

You just grin at her, putting your hands up. “Hey, believe me if you want. I really just wanna take a shower with you then pass out.”

“Mmm… alright. Acceptable.”

Between the two of them, you manage to lock the front door, clean up the dirty laundry from the bedroom and living room, set things to wash, and then hop in the shower to clean each other up. It’s mainly a silent affair, just quietly doing the necessary chores before finishing the night washing their backs and rinsing the sweat from their bodies.

You both tumble into bed after switching the linens to the dryer to be dealt with in the morning, you wrapping around Kika as the news drones on from their TV.

“Did you have fun?” Kika asks.

You hum an affirmative.

“Fun like this was a one-time thing to try, or fun like you’d do it again?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” you replied. “I’ll get back to you in three to five business days.”

Kika giggles and kisses your knuckles before letting her hands wrap around your stomach and pull you in tight. “Fine, fine. I’ll prod your brain at a later date. For now…”

“Sleep?”

“Sleep.”

“I love you, Kika.”

“I love you too, darling.”

#woso fanfics #woso smut #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso community #barca femeni #alexia putellas smut #kika nazareth x reader #alexia putellas x reader #kika nazareth smut

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homunculus-argument · 10 days ago

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Hello there! I was wondering, do you only speak english and finnish? Or do you speak any other languages, like swedish too?? Just curious ^-^

I was taught swedish at school, but I only vaguely understand it on a "okay I can recognise some of these words" level, though I could say the same about estonian, which I was never taught anywhere, but it's close enough to finnish that I can vaguely grasp what's being talked about, but not be 100% sure. I once borrowed the swedish translation of a book I had read before in finnish, just to see if I could get myself to understand it, and I was surprised by how much I could grasp just by putting together the words I recognised and the plot direction I vaguely remembered.

At school we got to choose between english and french as a first language subject, and I chose french because I already knew english anyway. I didn't end up learning much french because of the way it was taught - we were divided into PERMANENT teams of four and all my classmates hated me, so everything was a group project. We also once got an assignment where we had to describe our rooms at home and since I draw a lot, I asked the teacher what's the word for a drawing in french. I showed her my sketchbook and everything to demonstrate what word I mean. She looked at me like I had just asked her how to do an at-home DIY abortion and said that she doesn't know. The word is "dessin" btw.

I also studied some russian at some point, and while I only remember very basic words, I still can read cyrillic script just fine. If anyone asks, I'll answer that I can't speak russian, but I can read and write it just fine.

I picked spanish as an optional at nursing school because I got to do a five-week learning-on-the-job training period at a nursing home in spain, and I got a pretty good grasp of the language - I got skilled enough in spanish to be able to explain that I was late for work because I couldn't understand the bus driver and the bus driver didn't understand me, but not skilled enough to have correctly communicated with the bus driver in the first place.

And with my kinda-vaguely-above-zero understanding of both french and spanish, I have an unwarranted confidence in my ability to also make sense of italian and portugese. I actually can't even tell portugese and spanish apart, I somewhat-understand both on the same level.

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 year ago

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Languages

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Jessie Fleming x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You don't want to speak your English

In Canada, almost everyone speaks English as their first language. It's simple and easy to communicate and even those from the French-speaking provinces can speak English too.

At Chelsea, the team was from all across the world so the blend of accents and languages made it difficult to communicate sometimes.

But, Jessie's biggest challenge to date after leaving Canada, is communicating with you.

You're Magda and Pernille's little girl so you speak Swedish and Danish. You were born in Germany though so Jessie supposes you speak German too despite how little you are. Your English is practically non-existent to Jessie's ears though.

Either you can't speak it just yet or you're refusing to because the only English Jessie's heard you speak is the word 'no' when Magda tried to feed you sweetcorn at lunch a few weeks ago.

You communicate exclusively with your mothers in a different language to English despite the way Magda's pressing you to speak it.

You're sweet though, a loveable little girl with a lot of energy and a penchant for stealing footballs.

Jessie just wishes there was another way to communicate with you, especially when you wander over to her in the queue for lunch with a plate.

"Huh? What's up?"

You're look up at her with big wide eyes and smile. You say something and Jessie just stares.

"Sorry, what was that?"

You repeat the word again and present Jessie your plate.

"Oh...wow, cool plate."

Evidently, it's the wrong thing to say because you stamp your foot and repeat the word.

Jessie's still drawing a blank.

You switch what you're saying now - another word Jessie doesn't understand - and then you say something completely different again.

She still can't understand you and she can clearly see that you're getting annoyed with her.

"Er..."

"Maybe," Comes Magda's pointed voice," If you spoke your English, princesse, then Jessie will understand you."

"No!"

That's your favourite English word and Magda rolls her eyes, taking your plate.

"She wanted the chicken," Magda explains with a laugh, placing your desired meat on your plate.

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't be. Princesse knows she should be practicing her English."

"No!" Your little voice insists and Magda looks down at you fondly, a hand coming up to stroke through your hair.

"Yes. You should be practice your English."

"No!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes."

"Nej!"

Magda sighs, shaking her head softly before taking you back over to your lunch table with Jessie trailing after.

Now that Jessie's looking out for it, it becomes much more obvious to her just how often you blend your languages. She's not an expert on Swedish and Danish but she can recognise German and has to smother her laughter on many occasions when requests for food or questions are done by using at least two languages.

You jump between words easily and without even batting an eye and it seems only Pernille's the one completely fluent in Princesse speak.

You're getting better though, branching out to one or two words of English every so often when it's just you and Jessie.

You're steadfast in your refusal to speak English to Magda outside of your usual one word answer of 'no'.

Currently, it's you, Jessie and Pernille in the break room.

Everyone else has either already gone home or, like Magda, stuck in meetings or doing media. Pernille and Jessie are free to go home but Jessie's coming over after training is over and Pernille and Magda share the car so you're all waiting for Magda to finish up so you can finally go.

You're sitting on the floor with Jessie, playing around with girl-swan and girl-moose. You stop playing for a moment, frowning to yourself before calling out to Momma in a jumbled mess of Swedish, Danish and Germany, pointing to the bag of toys on Jessie's other side.

"Ask Jessie, princesse," Pernille says and you huff.

You make your request again to Pernille but she gives you a look.

"Jessie's closer," She says and you pout.

Jessie braces herself for the jumbled mess of languages about to come out of your mouth and the mad scramble to guess what you want before you get annoyed.

You open your mouth.

Jessie readies herself.

"Building blocks, please Jessie," You say," In the bag."

Jessie's mouth hangs open in shock.

You frown at her, pointing this time. "Building blocks, please."

Mutely, Jessie hands them to you and you beam.

"Going to be a castle," You tell her earnestly," And we can knock it down!"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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saaneaera · 20 days ago

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The Northuldras and their Sámi origins

In this article, I will discuss the Northuldras, as well as Iduna and Kristoff, and Sámi culture. Since Frozen 2, there has been some confusion surrounding the Northuldras and their appearance. I have done my best to gather as much information as possible through my research.

Summary:

The Sámi Siberia Northuldras Iduna Kristoff Bonus: Frozen 2 songs in Northern Sámi

My previous articles:

The Sámi people

The Sámis, also spelled “Sami” or “Saami,” are an indigenous people who live scattered across northern Norway, Sweden, Finland, and the Kola Peninsula in Russia. The Sámpi region was formerly known as Lapland, and the Sámi were historically known in English as “Lapps” or “Laplanders,” but this term is foreign and pejorative, derived from the root lapp, which means “rag-bearer” in Swedish, and ‘Lapland’ possibly means “desert in the north.” They prefer their own endonym, for example Northern Sámi Sápmi. Their traditional languages are the Sámi languages, which are classified as a branch of the Uralic language family. The traditional activities of the Sámi were once fishing and reindeer herding, but today only a minority of the 85,000 still make their living from these activities.

The Sámi have had a complicated relationship with the Scandinavians (known as Nordics in medieval times). In Norway, the Sámi people were subjected to a persistent assimilation policy from the mid-1800s to the late 1960s. The assimilation policy helped legitimize discrimination against the Sámi, and although it has been abandoned, the Sámi continue to be victims of harassment and discrimination because of their ethnicity. Discrimination has a negative impact on the physical and mental health of the Sámi and has a detrimental effect on their daily lives and well-being. Many Sámi people explain that they hide their identity to protect themselves from harassment and discrimination. From the mid-1800s until the late 1960s, they were considered a foreign people, often characterized as uncivilized, and a policy toward the Sámi marked by racist attitudes and notions of racial hierarchy was pursued. For decades, this policy helped legitimize discrimination against the Sámi in Norway. Similar stories of abuse against the Sámi and their lives, health, and rights also occurred in Sweden and, to some extent, in Finland. Although this policy has been abandoned, negative attitudes and a lack of recognition of the Sámi language and culture still prevail.

Culture and traditions

Religion:

The traditional Sámi religion shares elements with other religions of the polar regions, such as bear worship, sacrifices, shamanism, etc. Men and women have their own gods. This traditional polytheistic religion was the majority religion until the Middle Ages (from the 11th century onwards), when Christianity became the dominant religion by the end of the 18th century. “White” animals played a particularly important role. The noaidi (shaman) has a strong influence on the sijdda (the community that forms a village in winter), as an advisor, doctor, and religious figure. As with other circumpolar peoples, the shaman is an intermediary between the human world and the supernatural world. During ecstatic trance, the shaman communicates with the spiritual world populated by gods and creatures, whom he or she questions in order to obtain information or satisfy a request.

At the beginning of the 17th century, the situation worsened for the Sami people. Severe taxes were imposed and the Swedish royal family enforced them rigorously. In addition, church villages were built to serve not only as places for evangelizing the indigenous people, but also as centers of justice and markets. This meant that the population, who had to go there to trade, could be better controlled. But the Sami were not only disadvantaged by taxes, evangelization, and the cultivation of their lands; they were also used as forced laborers for projects such as the Nasafjäll silver mine. Reduced to slavery and poverty, the Sami performed all kinds of physical labor for the settlers.

Traditional outfits:

Gákti are traditional garments worn by the Sámi people. Gákti are worn both in ceremonial contexts and during work, particularly when herding reindeer.

Traditionally, the gákti was made from reindeer leather and tendons, but nowadays it is more common to use wool, cotton, or silk. Women's gákti usually consist of a dress, a fringed shawl fastened with 1 to 3 silver brooches, and boots/shoes made of reindeer fur or leather. Sámi boots (or nutukas) can have pointed or curved toes and often have woven bands at the ankle. Eastern Sámi boots have a rounded toe on reindeer fur boots, lined with felt and beaded details. There are different gákti for women and men, with men's gákti having a shorter “skirt-skirt-skirt” than the long dress for women. Traditional gákti are most often variations of red, blue, green, white, medium brown tanned leather or reindeer fur. In winter, a reindeer fur coat and leggings are added, and sometimes a poncho (luhkka) and a rope/lasso.

The colors, patterns, and jewelry on the gákti indicate where a person comes from, whether they are single or married, and sometimes can even be specific to their family. The collar, sleeves, and hem usually have appliqués in the form of geometric shapes. Some regions have ribbons, others have tin embroidery, and some Eastern Sami have beads on their clothing or collars. Hats vary according to gender, season, and region. They can be made of wool, leather, or fur. They can be embroidered, or in the East, they resemble a beaded fabric crown with a shawl. Some traditional shamanic headdresses had animal skins, braids, and feathers, especially in eastern Sápmi.

The gákti can be worn with a belt, which is sometimes made of woven strips, woven or beaded. Leather belts may have crimson deer antler buttons, silver buttons resembling conchos, tassels, or brass/copper details such as rings. Belts may also have beaded leather pouches, deer antler needle cases, fire accessories, copper rings, amulets, and often a carved knife or one with a deer antler handle. Some Eastern Sami also have a hooded sweater (малиц) made of reindeer skins with wool inside and knee-high boots.

Music:

In traditional music, songs (such as kvad and leudd songs) and joiks are important musical expressions of the Sámi people and the Sámi languages. The Sámi also use a variety of musical instruments, some unique to the Sámi, others traditional Scandinavian, and others modern.

Highly spiritual songs called joiks (Northern Sami: luohti, Southern Sami: vuolle) are the most characteristic type of singing. (The same word is sometimes used to refer to lavlu or vuelie songs, although this is technically incorrect). Joiks may have few or no lyrics, no rhyme, and no defined structure. They generally deal with any subject of importance to the singer, and their content varies considerably. In northern regions, each person often has their own joik, sometimes given at birth, which is considered personal and representative of them, like a name. Purely folk joiks lost popularity during the 20th century due to the influence of pop radio and religious fundamentalism, particularly Laestadianism. Joiking first became known in Sweden and Scandinavia as a whole with the 1959 release of “I'm a Lapp” by Sven-Gösta Jonsson, in which the singer sang about heading to pagan stones to a modern, skiffle-like beat. The first commercial recordings of joiking were made by Nils-Aslak Valkeapää in 1968 in Finland. Valkeapää's recordings, however, differ from traditional joiking in that they include both instruments and ambient sounds such as dogs barking and the wind.

Some sources have commented on a supposed lack of musical instruments among the Sami, as in a 1885 work: “They cannot claim to possess a single instrument of their own, not even the most primitive.” Despite these beliefs, the Sami use a variety of musical instruments, many of which are unique to them. Among these instruments are the fadno, a reed flute made from Angelica archangelica stems, and the Sámi drum. Researchers in the late 18th century also noted two bagpipes in Lapland: the sak-pipe and the wal-pipe. Other Sámi instruments in wider Scandinavian use include the lur (a long horn trumpet) and the harpu, a zither similar to the Finnish kantele. Willow flutes are often made from the bark of the viven tree or rowan. Modern groups use a wide variety of instruments, particularly the violin, concertina, and accordion.

"A northern Sámi woman playing the Lur horn in the evening. A woodcut by Emma Edwall based on nature in the mid-1800s."

Sámi drum

Food:

Bread:

Gáhkko – Soft flatbread, baked in a pan or on a flat stone.

Gárrpa – Thin, crispy bread.

Ståmpå – Bread

Gáhkko

Desserts:

Guetés – Eaten fresh or as jam. Chicouté jam goes well with ice cream when served warm.

Coffee with leipäjuusto

Guompa – Angelica mixed with milk and left to ferment in barrels.

Gumppus – Blood cakes and boiled black pudding with potatoes and meat.

Jåbmå – Mountain sorrel leaves cooked in a stew, usually served with sugar and milk.

Fish dishes:

Various types of dried fish

Guollemales – All types of cooked fish.

Sállteguolle – Salted fish, either lightly salted or heavily salted.

Suovasguolle – Smoked fish

Meat dishes:

Bierggomales – Cooked meat of various kinds, chops, and side dishes are common. Tongue, marrow bones, and liver are also part of Sami cuisine. The dish is more like a five-course dinner, with different parts served in order with hot broth straight from the pot.

Bierggojubttsa – A soup containing meat, potatoes, carrots, or other root vegetables.

Guorppa – A type of sausage made from minced meat wrapped in omentum.

Gåjkkebierggo – Dried meat, eaten as is or in soup with potatoes and rice.

Mallemárffe – Blood sausage

Sautéed reindeer

Slåbbå – Blood pancakes

Suovasbierggo – Smoked meat, eaten as is or fried

Smoked reindeer

Objects/crafts:

Origins:

The descendants of these Sami immigrants generally know little about their heritage because their ancestors deliberately hid their indigenous culture to avoid discrimination from the dominant Scandinavian or Nordic culture. Some of these Sami are part of a diaspora that settled in North America to escape the assimilation policies of their country of origin. Several Sami families were also brought to North America with reindeer herds by the US and Canadian governments as part of the Alaska Reindeer Service, which was designed to teach the Inuit how to raise reindeer.

The origins of the Sami people remain a mystery, but there are a few clues.

“Yes. They carry some of the same genetic code as the Navajo, who are now believed to be descendants of a semi-nomadic Asian tribe that lived in a region of Eastern Siberia. Recent anthropological articles have discussed how there are some similarities in the language of the Nenet and other Siberian peoples in the Altai region and the Navajo. There has been a lot of debate about this, but linguistics is a very difficult subject and it is often very hard to actually pinpoint when and how and why there are similarities or differences in languages because of how much different peoples travel. However, unlike the languages, memories, and theories of people, genetics is a more certain factor in determining heritage. My mother’s ancestors were from Scandinavia on her father’s side. She was a blonde with blue eyes, and only 4 foot 9 inches tall.

When I had a DNA test done, I ran the results of the test through GED Match, which broke the actual generic results down even further so that I could see I shared certain chunks of code with people from all over the world. One of the markers said that I had Saami or Navajo DNA. They were the same. I did some research and found articles on the Archaeologica.org website that stated recent research studies have found language similarities between a tribe of semi-nomadic herders living in the Altai region of Siberia and the Navajo. There is no record of anyone on my father’s side marrying a Navajo or Saami native in Scandinavia.

He is of Scottish descent. However, there is a record of my Scandinavian great grandfather 4 times removed, marrying a 10 year old “woman”, when he was 12. Native Americans, as we all were taught in high school, came into North America by crossing the Berringia land bridge during the last ice age and it’s common knowledge they were of Asian descent. Siberians are Asian and the vast majority of Asians are small. So, what happened is that when the Siberian tribespeople crossed the bridge, they split up, at some point, and one group went more easterly into North America and another group went further North into the Arctic Circle until they reached Scandinavia. Or, they split up in Siberia and one group went the opposite direction because the Saami are also found in Northern Russia. This is what is known as the common ancestor theory in anthropology. The Saami do speak a Finnic-Ugric language, but that is not proof they aren’t related to the Navajo.

That is only proof of the natural dynamic changes that occur when groups of people separate, and begin to intermingle with other groups or tribes of peoples in different areas. Language isn’t static. It is always changing because it is a reflection of our cultures, which are always changing. If it were static, we would still speak as we did thousands of years ago. The reason my mother, me and my brothers are all so small is because we are of Asian descent through the Saami people who migrated into Northern Scandinavia from the Altai Mountain region of Siberia. And the reason she was blonde and blur eyed is because we don’t always inherit dominant traits. The Saami look more European now because of intermarriage with the Norse and evolution changing their genetics to absorb Vitamin D. In older pictures from the 1800s, they look much more like Native Americans.”

“Sámi are often racialized. Not long ago we were categorized as “Mongoloid”. This was used as a reason to study us and measure our skulls, etc. and steal bodies from our graves. Because we were “mongoloid” we were inferior and they meant they could prove this by measuring our skulls because they (Norwegians, Swedes) supposedly had loner skulls than us. Which is where the word “kortskallet” comes from (“short-head”). In Norway (I think also in Sweden) we do not keep records of peoples races so we would not fill out any forms with our race on. But what most people I have met identify with is White. Btw indigenous is not a race. Indigenous is just another name for native. Indigenous American is more of a race than just indigenous which could mean any indigenous population from Cree nation to Australian Aboriginals to indigenous Taiwanese to indigenous Nenets to Amazigh, etc. genetically speaking we are on average approximately 25% Siberian, 75% European (this is thousands of years back, we are obviously full Sámi and completely different from other European populations as in not related to them at all).

Feature-wise there are people who look very Eurasian, others who look very European, some who look a bit more in one or the other direction, etc. And let’s be honest, the more Eurasian looking Sámi are more likely to experience racism and racial prejudice. These features are considered to be epicanthic folds/hooded eyes, high protruding cheekbones, brown eyes, dark hair, small flatter nose, etc. Notice how this is a very specific appearance and is built on stereotypes. A lot of Sámi look like this, BUT a lot of Sámi also do NOT look like this. Hope this can give you a kind of insight. Sámi come in all shades and colors and with all features 🤗 This got long, but it’s hard to write about a big topic like this in few words. Btw forgot to mention that a lot of Sámi don’t even identify with any races as they see it as completely irrelevant to their lives. (Which I agree with).”

Sámi flag

By Prince Roland Bonaparte in 1884

Painting by Aleksander Lauréus

Advertisement for an ethnological exhibition on the Sami people in Hamburg-Saint-Paul in 1893/1894

The Sami people nowadays

Siberia

Siberia (in Russian: Сиби́рь, Sibír') is a region of Asia located in Russia, covering an area of 13.1 million square kilometers. It is rich in natural resources but extremely sparsely populated, with a total population of 38 million in 2022, or approximately 3 inhabitants per square kilometer.

Located in the central and eastern parts of the Russian Federation, it stretches from the Urals in the west to the Pacific Ocean in the east (Russian Far East) and from the Arctic Ocean in the north to the borders of Kazakhstan in the southwest, Mongolia in the south, and China in the southeast. Constituting the northern part of Asia, Siberia accounts for 77% of Russia's land area but only 27% of its population. It is characterized by a cold, continental climate with a moderately rugged landscape crisscrossed by mighty rivers. Inhabited by pastoral populations speaking Uralic, Altaic, and Paleosiberian languages, it was gradually colonized by Turkic-Mongolian civilizations, which were supplanted by the Russian Empire from the 17th century onwards with the conquest of Siberia.

Siberia is known for its long, harsh winters, with an average temperature of -25°C (-13°F) in January. Although geographically located in Asia, Russian sovereignty and colonization since the 16th century have led to the region being perceived as culturally and ethnically European. More than 85% of its population is of European origin, mainly Russian (including the Siberian sub-ethnic group), and East Slavic cultural influences predominate throughout the region. Nevertheless, there are significant ethnic minorities of Asian descent, including various Turkic communities, many of which, such as the Yakuts, Tuvans, the Altai and the Khakas, are indigenous, as well as the Mongolian Buryats, ethnic Koreans, and smaller groups of Samoyed and Tungus peoples (several of whom are classified as indigenous peoples with small numbers by the Russian government), among many others.

The origin of the name is uncertain. In the Russian language, it was adopted as a place name in contact with the Khanate of Siberia (Сибирское ханство) since the 15th century. The Russian name Yugra was applied to the northern lands east of the Urals, which had been known since the 11th century or earlier, while the name Siberia is first mentioned in Russian chronicles at the beginning of the 15th century in connection with the death of Khan Tokhtamysh in “the Siberian land.”

Some sources say that “Siberia” comes from the Siberian Tatar word for “sleeping land” (Sib-ir), but this does not correspond to the current Siberian Tatar language. Mongolist György Kara posits that the place name Siberia is derived from the Mongolian word sibir, related to the modern Buryat sheber “dense forest.” Another hypothesis claims that the region was named after the Sibe people. Another account sees the name as the ancient tribal ethnonym of the Sihirtia or Sirtya (also Sypyr [sjɵpᵻr]), a hypothetical Paleo-Asian ethnic group assimilated by the Nenets.

The Sibe people:

The Sibe are an ethnic group in East Asia who speak the Tungusic language and live mainly in Xinjiang, Jilin, and Shenyang in Liaoning. The Sibe are one of 56 ethnic groups officially recognized by China and had a population of 190,481 according to the 2010 Chinese census, representing just over 0.014% of China's total population. The Sibe are known by several variations of their name. The Sibe people's self-designation is pronounced Śivə, the official Chinese term is Xibo, in Russian literature the terms Сибинцы (sibintsy) and Шибинцы (shibintsy) are used, while in English works the name Sibe has been established, which corresponds to the written form.

According to Russian scholar Elena P. Lebedeva, the Sibe people were originally a southern branch of the ancient Shiwei people. They lived in small, partly nomadic settlements resembling towns in the Songyuan and Qiqihar regions of what is now Jilin. When the kingdom of Buyeo was conquered by the Xianbei in 286 AD, the southern Shiwei began to practice agriculture. Some historians have hypothesized that the Xianbei were the direct ancestors of the Sibe, a theory described by some as politically motivated. Pamela Kyle Crossley writes that the Xianbei may have undergone a linguistic shift from an earlier Turkic or Proto-Mongolian language to a Tungusic language. However, the name “Sibe” was not used in historical documents during the Xianbei period.

“Military settlers of Sibo” – image drawn by Henry Lansdell during his visit in 1882 to what is now the autonomous county of Qapqal Xibe"

Northuldras

“While the indigenous people in the animated films Frozen (2013) and Frozen 2 (2019) are called Northuldra, elements of Sami culture are clearly recognizable in the film inspired by Hans Christian Andersen's Danish fairy tale, such as joik, the traditional Sami song. This inspiration is clearly acknowledged in the second film, for which a verddet “group” composed of six Sámi culture specialists—three Norwegians, two Finns, and one Swede was formed to advise the Disney teams."

The Northuldras live in the enchanted forest to the west and north of Arendelle. There has been some confusion surrounding them and their appearance; at first glance, some thought they were Native Americans. Others thought it was for “inclusivity” because it turns out that people complained that Kristoff was “too white” for a Sami, so they believed that the directors created the Northuldras on purpose. But you will notice that in reality, the directors did not get the Northuldras' appearance wrong; they look like the Sami of old.

“Yelena, the leader of Northuldra, feels deeply responsible for her people and does not consider only the fate of her kingdom. She has long silver hair that makes her instantly recognizable. It is worn like a crown, giving her a regal bearing befitting her status as an elder.” — Frozen 2, art of

“Ryder and Honeymaren are brother and sister, so we need to visually convey this closeness while also making them different. Ryder is a lively, playful boy with a generous smile and a warm laugh. He feels a special connection with reindeer, like Kristoff, which allows them to quickly become friends. Honeymaren is more stoic, she is a strong woman. They are both very athletic and comfortable in their environment.” — Frozen 2, art of

“The inhabitants of Northuldra are very connected to nature. They live and work outdoors, and have adapted to thrive in all conditions.” “The inhabitants of Northuldra are peaceful. Their athletic and swift movements set them apart from other characters.” — Frozen 2, art of

Ryder and Honeymaren, concept art by Jin Kim

Northuldras in Frozen 2 (2019)

Iduna

Iduna is the mother of Elsa and Anna. In Frozen 2, we learn that she is a member of the Northuldra people.

A novel entitled Dangerous Secrets, written by Mari Mancusi, was released on November 3, 2020. This young adult novel tells the story of Agnarr and Iduna, the parents of Elsa and Anna.

Summary of the story

“Sixteen-year-old Iduna harbors a dark secret.On the surface, she is an Arendellian village girl, an aspiring inventor, and the best friend of Prince Agnarr, but she is also secretly Northuldra. Ever since the day the forest fell, Arendellians have despised and distrusted Northuldra with a vengeance. No matter that the Northuldra―along with some of Arendelle’s own―have been trapped in the Enchanted Forest behind an impenetrable wall of mist since the day of the battle. Iduna doesn’t know why the mist refuses to part, or why it descended to begin with. The only clear thing is that she must keep her identity from everyone, even Agnarr. Her life depends on it. Fortunately for her, Agnarr doesn’t know that Iduna is the Northuldra girl he saw seemingly flying on a gust of wind all those years ago, the day of the celebration turned disaster. The day Agnarr lost his father, the king. The day Agnarr himself almost died. What Agnarr does know is that Iduna is a true ally in the face of his royal responsibilities and the expectations of an overbearing council and a well-meaning regent who will rule in Agnarr’s place until he turns twenty-one and assumes the Arendellian throne. As Iduna and Agnarr grow ever closer, however, friendship is no longer enough.

If only falling for each other didn’t mean risking their futures: Iduna’s as a hidden-in-plain-sight citizen of Arendelle, and Agnarr’s as imminent king. But for a chance at true love, the risk might be worth taking”

Iduna is a Sámi from the Northuldra people, born in the enchanted forest. Her parents died when she was five years old, and following their death, Yéléna sort of adopted her. Yéléna is not related to her by blood, but they are from the same people. The Northuldras are a bit like a united family, even if they are not all related by blood. I interpret Yélena as a friend of the family, but according to the novel, Iduna did not know her very well before she took her in. Iduna did not really consider her to be her adoptive mother, but more like a nanny or an aunt.

This war between the Northuldras and the Arendellians took place when Iduna was 12 years old, and it was on that day that she saved Prince Agnarr of Arendelle, who was 14 years old, with the help of her friend Gale (the spirit of the wind). Unfortunately for her, she was unable to rejoin her people in time and remained trapped on the other side of the mist with the Arendellians, hiding in the back of a wagon. She tried to escape again, but she was frightened when she heard the threatening words of one of the Arendelle guards towards the Northuldras, saying that if he found a Northuldra among them, he would not hesitate to kill him. When they arrived in Arendelle, the guards saw him sleeping and woke him up abruptly, having never seen him before and knowing that all the children were accounted for. They were therefore very suspicious of him, but Lord Peterssen intervened and helped him in a way... He was the only one who had guessed Iduna's origins. Lord Peterssen told him not to reveal anything about her origins and to keep it a secret. Iduna was then placed in the orphanage.

Meanwhile, she and the prince became friends without him realizing her origins. 4 years later, Iduna had grown accustomed to life in Arendelle, but nothing could replace her life in the enchanted forest. 1 year earlier, she had enrolled in a mill-building course, thinking it would bring her closer to her friend Gale and teach her more about the science of wind, and it would allow her to save money for when she was old enough to leave the orphanage. But the issue with the Northuldras was still unresolved in Arendelle. At one point in the story, there was an invasion, and non-Arendellian individuals caused chaos in Arendelle. All the inhabitants of Arendelle were convinced that it was the Northuldras who had entered the kingdom to seek revenge or something like that.

Some fans of the FROZEN universe who know Iduna's story still don't understand why she lied and didn't tell Agnarr and his daughters anything. When she was 16, she planned to tell Agnarr about it. She was never ashamed of her origins, but following the invasion, Lord Peterssen came to warn her one evening that a lie detector test would be administered. Iduna was ready to go to Agnarr and reveal her origins, but Peterssen told her not to say anything for the time being. If she revealed her Northuldra identity, Agnarr's reputation would be ruined for associating with a Northuldra, and Peterssen would no longer be able to cover for her. Becoming a mother made the situation even more complicated because her daughters, the two heiresses to the throne, shared the blood of the enemy people.

Despite the fact that the conflicts had calmed down, the Arendellians and the Northuldras were still enemies. Even though Agnarr was not the type to reveal secrets, if Iduna had confessed to him that she was from the Northuldra people, someone (a member of the castle) might have overheard the conversation unintentionally. If anyone in Arendelle had learned anything about this, Iduna might have been killed or driven out of the people, Elsa and Anna would have been taken away along without their royal inheritance, and would have been placed in a foster home or suffered the same fate as their mother. Agnarr's reputation would have been ruined, and he would have been left alone without his wife and children, not to mention that Iduna was the only person he had left after his father's death. It's horrible.

Iduna's outfits:

In Frozen 1, Iduna was a background character. She was just Elsa and Anna's mother. But in Frozen 2, she finally got her own story (past).

For her outfit, they were initially inspired by Russian clothing, but the story takes place in Norway, so they ultimately opted for a Norwegian outfit.

Concept art of Iduna, Frozen 1 art of

“Elsa and Anna’s mother, Queen Iduna, had to endure emotional wounds, but she is a mother who puts her family first. She didn’t talk much in the first film, but she sought to help her daughters, as well as the people of her homeland, heal their broken land. Elsa and Anna would not have succeeded in their journey without what their mother did for them.” — Frozen 2, art of volume 2

The art of says that her outfit is a Northuldra outfit, but on Pinterest I stumbled across these outfits that look like Iduna's, but according to people, they are ancient Viking outfits. One day, under a Pinterest post, I came across a similar dress design, and the description said it was a Sami outfit. Or maybe Iduna's outfit is a Sami outfit reimagined in the Arendellian style.

“As a child, Iduna was one with nature, close to the spirit of the wind, happy and carefree. She is playful and affable like Anna, she loves the magic of the world like Elsa, and she has the same thoughtfulness as her daughters. Young Iduna represents what Elsa and Anna could have become if they had grown up playing together. She is her pure essence, free from convention.” — Frozen 2, art of volume 2

(Elsa is normally a little calmer and more reserved, like her father, but oh well. I don't like it when characters change personalities; in fact, that could be a topic for another article).

Kristoff

"There has been some confusion surrounding them and their appearance; at first glance, some thought they were Native Americans. Others thought it was for “inclusivity” because it turns out that people complained that Kristoff was “too white” for a Sami, so they believed that the directors created the Northuldras on purpose. But you will notice that in reality, the directors did not get the Northuldras' appearance wrong; they look like the Sami of old."

Although he is also a Sámi, he is not part of the Northuldra tribe, but it is possible that the mountain dwellers belong to another Sámi tribe (I call them “the mountain Sámi”). You see, the Northuldras resemble the Sámi of the past, while today's Sámi are diverse, some with Eurasian features and others resembling Europeans due to intermarriage with Europeans. Kristoff and the mountain dwellers in the franchise resemble nowaday's Sámi.

Kristoff and Ryder, concept art by Jin Kim

Bonus: Songs from Frozen 2 in Northern Sami + Songs by a Sámi artist

Frozen 2 songs

youtube

Máddji

Spotify:

Full album:

Full album Youtube Music:

Other:

Youtube Music:

youtube

Full album:

This is the end of what is so far the longest article I have written. I hope you have learned something about the Sami people. In a future article, I will discuss the mixed heritage of Elsa and Anna.

#frozen #frozen fever #olaf's frozen adventure #frozen 2 #northuldra #iduna #iduna frozen #queen iduna #kristoff #frozen kristoff #sámi people #siberia

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nordickies · 5 months ago

Text

Remember when I used to make headcanon masterposts? Yeah, me neither, but here we go again! I don’t often get the chance to talk about Norway in depth, but he has been at the forefront of my mind lately. So I thought, why not bring my thoughts together in the form of a very long masterpost? This masterpost is packed with big and small ideas about his character that shape the way I personally write him.

I tried to gather everything I could think of, though I’m sure I’ve forgotten something along the way. I’ll happily update the list later. If people are interested, I’d love to finish similar posts for the rest of the Nordics as well as revisit some of the older ones!

So, without further ado, brace yourself and read the whole list below!

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Introduction

Norway’s human name is Sigurd Nordvik, and Mr. Norway (Herr Norge) is the title by which he is formally addressed. However, he doesn’t really care about official titles and prefers people to call him Norway or Norge. Sometimes his closest friends may use the human nickname "Sigge." In the past, he was called Sigurðr — or Siward in English. Sjur Ødegård has often been his go-to alias.

His chosen birthday is the 17th of May (Norway’s Constitution Day), but he has never been the type to celebrate himself. He prefers to keep the day as a celebration for his country and its people. He likes rotating the type of bunad he wears every year, and he heads to the streets to celebrate together with his people.

He speaks Norwegian and English, and due to his close relationship with his neighbors, he can speak Swedish and Danish too — though hesitantly, only when necessary. In the past, he spoke Old Norse, Latin, German, and French. However, he has since forgotten most of these languages and is no longer able to communicate through them efficiently.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Appearance

Sigurd has light grey eyes, reminiscent of mountain bedrock or morning fog. His head is long and narrow. He has a slightly bumpy, downturned nose, hollow cheeks, and a relaxed, expressionless face. His lips are thin, his eyes narrow, and his wavy, light blonde hair falls just to his neck, a little unkempt. A modest amount of facial and body hair adds to his understated ruggedness. His skin is pale but reactive, quick to flush in the cold wind, burn in the sun, or betray his mysterious image during heightened emotions. He's naturally quite thin and in fit shape due to his hobbies. He's tall, around 185 cm.

Sigurd doesn't outshine with his sense of fashion, dressing for convenience rather than looks. While he owns plenty of well-fitted suits and tailored longer coats for the occasions that call for them, he feels most like himself in chunky wool sweaters and hiking trousers, fit for the weather for the majority of the year. He seems to avoid bright colors, except red, but he loves detailed colorwork knits. He's frugal when it comes to many things and thus still knits his own sweaters. He claims he doesn't want to waste money on items he could easily make himself, and he certainly has similar sweaters in many variations in his closet. But, in contradictory fashion, he'll wear insanely expensive outdoor gear, technical boots, and windproof jackets without seeing any problem in subtly flexing through them.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Personality

Sigurd is a reliable, composed, and trustworthy person in any situation — the kind of friend you want to keep in your life. His honest yet genuine demeanor tends to leave a lasting impression, and he’s generally viewed in a very positive light. Though Sigurd is quiet and mysterious, his presence tends to spark curiosity rather than intimidation. Everyone wants to claim him as their best friend.

Naturally reserved, he can sometimes come across as distant or emotionally cold. However, he simply prefers to keep to himself, avoid bothering others, and not stand out too much. Sigurd makes a conscious effort to be respectful, often avoiding situations that could feel awkward for either party, so he tends to keep his social interactions formal and brief. Social settings overwhelm him easily, and if given the chance, he’ll quietly slip away before anyone even notices or makes a big deal out of it.

Emotionally, Sigurd is guarded. He struggles to express his feelings out loud, fearing they’ll be used against him or cause worry for others. He's used to being the sensible one, calming others down or offering a voice of reason. Sigurd being in a position where he’s the one needing help feels foreign to him. But once he’s drunk, he’ll open up more than usual, only to be hit with crushing embarrassment the next day for letting his guard down. He’s painfully shy around strangers and tends to overthink social interactions, worrying he’ll reveal too much. But to those who earn his trust, he reveals a gentler, more thoughtful side. He’s among the first to notice when someone is unwell, silently checking in—even if his concern comes out as awkward teasing. He cares deeply about his family and friends.

Still, beneath the stoic surface lies a playful spirit. Sigurd is a subtle trickster — fond of poking or teasing those he's close to, and dropping dry, sarcastic remarks with perfect timing. He pretends not to care, but he thrives on attention, especially after years of feeling like the forgotten player in their group. He secretly loves being talked about, praised, and even admired, though he quickly shuts down compliments. Still, he tends to view himself through his flaws rather than his strengths. Sigurd believes there are only a few things he’s truly talented at. When he falls short of his impossibly high standards, it feels like a crushing failure of his entire being. Despite his insecurities, Sigurd takes pride in his achievements. He’ll brag (modestly, but often) when things go well, especially if he wins something. He does his job well, always on time, and with quiet perfectionism that is often underappreciated.

Sigurd lives at his own pace, content without chasing flashy or grand goals. He’s outdoorsy, self-reliant, and focused on himself. You could say he's health-conscious due to many health-related issues in the past. But sometimes, he becomes overly fixated on it, especially during times of stress, to the point of overworking or limiting himself harshly. His relationship with money is also complicated. He’s used to surviving on very little, so even spending on small comforts can feel indulgent. He sometimes gets uncomfortable when people comment on his country’s wealth, fearing they’ll judge him personally because of it. As a result, he often steers the conversation away from the topic. Sigurd is snarky and elusive, the kind of person who could lie with a straight face if he wanted to. He's particularly skilled at keeping things about himself tightly under wraps, making him incredibly hard to read. He often projects calm and composure even when he’s unraveling inside. If anyone were built to be a manipulator, it would be Sigurd. But thankfully for those around him, he’s not malicious.

Sigurd’s emotional world is buried deep, shaped by experiences he rarely speaks of — tucked behind layers of dry humor and thoughtful silence. Perhaps because of this, he often drifts from the present, dissociating, his mind slipping into daydreams. Sometimes, he imagines fantastical scenes, far removed from the noise of everyday life. When faced with complicated emotions, Sigurd retreats into his head, withdrawing from others. Without a healthy outlet, his bottled-up feelings tend to leak out sideways — through excessive sarcasm, bullying, or self-sabotage. Left to his own devices for too long, Sigurd can grow apathetic and cynical, sinking into depression. That’s why he needs people who won’t give up on him, people who keep reaching out, even when his instinct is to push them away.

Sigurd’s emotional wounds surface in his relationships. He has trust issues, and his first instinct is to build walls when he fears getting hurt. Letting people in doesn’t come naturally to him. His past unions weren’t exactly unhappy, but they lacked mutual respect, leaving him feeling unimportant. His opinions and feelings were rarely considered in decision-making. Those experiences left a mark, making him doubt the idea of real love for someone like him. In his eyes, marriage between Nations has always been more political than personal.

Mysterious, humble, and sincere could all be words to describe Sigurd. He brings a calming presence but with a layer of sharp wit. His kindness is subtle but ever-present, tucked beneath layers of sarcasm, shy smiles, and a masked desire to be seen.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Lifestyle

Sigurd resides in Oslo due to the capital's role as the center of politics and entertainment, but he has previously lived in Bergen and Nidaros (Trondheim). When he has time off, he retreats to his mountain cabin to recharge. However, he sometimes has to deal with unexpected guests when his family also wants to enjoy a picturesque cabin weekend. It’s partly Sigurd’s own fault for wanting to be nice and offering the cabin for others to use whenever they want.

Sigurd's house is a bit chilly and serene, to the point where you can hear the old clock ticking through the halls or the walls cracking on the coldest winter days. The muted colors, a rocking chair, and large wooden cupboards all add to the tranquil atmosphere. He has a lot of old furniture he’s either kept or discovered in vintage shops. Both his house and cabin are filled with books and worn-down furniture he hasn’t dared to get rid of. He rarely buys new things as long as the old ones still work. When the silence stretches too long, he finds himself showing up unannounced at Björn’s or Magnus’ place (and raiding their pantries, calling it harrytur). The trio jokes that Sigurd is like a household cat — aloof and low-maintenance, but always returning when he wants warmth or food.

Still, Sigurd’s adventurous side doesn’t let him stay a hermit at home for too long. He’s well-traveled and deeply curious about other cultures. If he disappears for a while, he’s likely off-grid, hiking in jungles or trekking through remote landscapes. There’s hardly a place left on Earth he hasn’t visited — not even Antarctica. He’s terrible at keeping in touch or letting people know when he’s leaving, but they trust he’ll return home safely with new stories and the same worn backpack.

Sigurd has a strong, almost spiritual connection to nature. It means everything to him, and he’ll go stir-crazy if forced to stay indoors — even when he’s sick or injured. He genuinely believes in folkloric creatures like trolls, fairies, and elves, and he’s careful not to disturb rocks or trees out of respect for them. He’s passionate about environmental preservation and fascinated by Norse mythology and sagas. While he doesn’t publicly identify as a practicing pagan, he occasionally dabbles in folk magic. These interests, along with his deeply introverted habits and daydreaming nature, make him feel like someone stuck in another time. His brothers don't waste the opportunity to call him plain odd because of it, though.

Sigurd lives an active lifestyle. He skis, runs marathons, sails, and fishes — again subtly flexing with his high-quality fishing and hiking gear and regularly making trips to the northern wilderness. Back home, he goes for morning runs before sunrise, wearing reflective gear and a headlamp, preferring the peace of empty trails. In winter, he swaps running shoes for skis. Sigurd is sometimes seen as a kind of patron of sports, being the face of campaigns encouraging people of all ages to stay active. He loves attending sporting events and is always touched when asked to present awards and give speeches. He’s especially proud of working with youth sports organizations and anti-bullying campaigns.

Despite appearing like the poster boy for healthy living, Sigurd’s diet is another story. He survives on a strange mix of comfort foods — sugar-free cola, tacos, waffles, and frozen pizza, to name a few. He’s a decent cook but rarely strays from the few meals he enjoys. He’s not big on sweets, but he won’t turn down a piece of kransekake or anything almond-flavored. However, during hikes, he must carry a chocolate bar with him, which he'll open at the top of the mountain, resting for a moment and taking in the stunning view.

Sigurd also has a rich musical side — he plays the violin. In his youth, he would entertain others with his fiddle, providing atmosphere for celebrations. But most importantly, the instrument was a tool through which he could hone his skills and earn recognition. These days, he’s fascinated by electric violins. Sigurd enjoys emotional rock ballads and epic instrumental music. But once he’s drunk, he’ll sing along to Norwegian party songs with all his heart. He can become quite the loud party animal when intoxicated — but firmly denies it if teased.

Sigurd’s speaking voice is calm and airy, and he has a beautiful, soft singing voice. He has even been asked to narrate audiobooks of Norwegian literature classics. In quieter moments, he enjoys knitting and watching odd TV shows while curled up in his chilly living room. He developed an interest in roleplay and fantasy games in the 1970s and would gladly do it more often with the right group of friends. He’s also a cat person and adores kittens. He has two Norwegian Forest cats named Olaf and Mons.

As the youngest of the three brothers, Sigurd sometimes struggles with being compared to Magnus or Björn, becoming visibly upset and defensive about it. During his childhood, he had to fight for attention just to be seen and valued, but he rarely received the recognition that his brothers often did. Maybe that’s why he’s so fiercely competitive. Sigurd is always ready to join a friendly sports match — so long as he thinks he has a shot at winning. Even the most peaceful beach day tends to turn into a spontaneous contest, with Sigurd pestering someone to time his swim to settle once and for all whether he’s faster than Magnus or Björn. The same applies to chess, which Sigurd is insanely good at, or other strategic board games. Game nights in their family can thus turn rather chaotic very fast.

Sigurd isn’t particularly tidy either. After long fishing or hiking trips, he’ll barge into Björn’s place and flop onto the couch without a second thought, opening a bag of chips, still covered in travel grime. Naturally, Björn whines at him about it. But in true Sigurd fashion, he just shrugs and grins, teasing his way out of the scolding.

Sigurd’s view of his own immortality has shifted over the years, but his role as a representative of Norway has always given him a sense of purpose and motivation. He’s had bad experiences with other immortals, so he tends to seek meaning and comfort in his work — representing something he truly values. He wants to focus on what matters to him, finally pursuing his own goals instead of being held back by others. His job has strengthened his sense of self and purpose. While his responsibilities can feel limiting at times, he can recognize his immortality's nuances and appreciate the good sides of it.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Relationships

Sigurd is a reserved guy who doesn't have many deep friendships outside of his family. Most of the time, he hangs out with Björn — which is maybe a bit embarrassing for him. Sigurd doesn't like parties or big social gatherings, as he feels most people end up invading his personal space, thus making him uncomfortable. Also, his social battery runs out extremely fast. While he prefers to keep to himself, he has a strange kind of charm that draws people to him.

With such a massive coastline, Sigurd sees the Atlantic as his home and has good relations with fellow Atlantic nations. He has traveled far and wide, and generally, the Commonwealth countries have been friendly toward him, often allying with him on various matters. He sometimes goes on skiing trips with Switzerland, Liechtenstein, or Austria, as they bond over mountains and ski-related sports. They get along surprisingly well, as long as Sigurd’s silence doesn’t bother them. New Zealand is another outdoor enthusiast Sigurd gets along with — an unlikely friend from the other side of the globe.

Sigurd is usually the first to point out that Björn and Magnus have gotten old and aren't nearly as fun as they used to be. Perhaps he just doesn’t like being reminded of the passage of time or of how comfortably others have settled into ordinary lives. He feels like he’s only just now gotten his own life on track! The idea of having children or getting married doesn’t appeal to him at all. These days, he cherishes his freedom and self-reliance, which he desperately aspired for so long.

Sweden / Björn The core aspect of Sigurd's and Björn's dynamic is the love-hate relationship. They love to annoy the hell out of their söta bror, their sweet brother. They’ll nag each other nonstop and drive one another crazy all day, yet still spend the night talking, braiding each other's hair, and falling asleep in the same bed. At the same time, they constantly mock each other for being copycats, always blaming the other for mimicking their style or stealing their stuff. After all, what’s worse than being constantly compared to your sibling? Björn and Sigurd grew relatively close and spent a lot of time together growing up. They were just as competitive then as they are now; it’s definitely a trait that developed in their childhood. Both had to make do with limited resources, so competition was sometimes necessary, maybe even encouraged. Nowadays, they’ll compare anything: who has the better car, the greener yard, more birthday wishes on social media. They never seem to tire of the comparisons, though everyone else around them certainly does. But truthfully, they’d do anything for one another if it came down to it; their nagging is just a weird combination of their love languages. While they complain about the other’s incompetence and lack of brains, they still show up when needed, no questions asked. They just can’t bring themselves to admit they care; it’s too corny, not their style at all. They’ve been in various unions throughout history, though rarely by choice. Those unions have definitely left a mark, and there have been times when their relationship was seriously strained. While Sigurd usually ends up being the voice of reason around Magnus and keeps an eye on him, with Björn, he lets himself be unapologetically bothersome. Björn sometimes calls Sigurd slow and out of touch, like he’s stuck a few centuries behind. Björn can be nitpicky and meticulous, which drives Sigurd crazy. To Sigurd, Björn is a perfectionist who’s always trying to keep up appearances, even during the worst of times. Even now, Björn has a tendency to meddle in other people’s business; Björn might scold Sigurd for how he treats his little brother Eiríkur, but Sigurd will snap back and tell him it’s none of his business. On the flip side, Sigurd’s free-spirited nature and lack of structure drive Björn mad. Sigurd is strong-willed and hard to cooperate with once his mind is set on something. He’s opinionated but keeps things bottled up, which leads to spiteful and inconsiderate behavior when things don’t go his way. His antisocial tendencies and bluntness can be frustrating and even embarrassing for Björn, especially since Björn himself is so conflict-avoidant and tries to keep everyone happy. Despite those unions, however strained, they have created a strange dependency between them. Even when they’re at odds, they try to understand what the other is going through, comforting each other at their worst. Their interests and hobbies are pretty similar, so it’s no surprise they spend so much of their free time together. Neither of them does well in big crowds, and they both deeply appreciate the calm, casual atmosphere they share when it’s just the two of them. They can sit in silence doing nothing, and that’s more than enough. Though Sigurd still occasionally tries to inject a little adventure into his brother’s routine. Nature is their shared escape, and they go hiking, skiing, or kayaking when they can. ─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Denmark / Magnus Magnus and Sigurd still share a deep emotional bond that's unique to them. They’re able to speak rather openly about their worries and offer each other genuine advice. Magnus relies on Sigurd and holds him in high regard, being the best friend Magnus would trust with his life. Sigurd, on the other hand, doesn’t quite share the same enthusiastic view. He keeps his distance when he can and doesn't always give in to Magnus’s wild proposals. Still, Magnus sees Sigurd as a constant in his life, someone who always has his back, no matter what. Magnus can get lost in his own world at times, forgetting things or getting distracted, so Sigurd ends up following behind to clean up the mess — just as he always has. It annoys Sigurd, but he knows Magnus doesn’t do it out of selfishness, and he’s learned to live with it. Together, Magnus and Sigurd are something of a comedic duo. Magnus's wild schemes test Sigurd's patience every single time and put them on some kind of adventure. Sigurd has learned to say "Magnus, no" almost instinctively to everything, but if nothing else, he keeps an eye to ensure Magnus doesn't get into too much trouble. Whenever Sigurd helps him out of a mess, Magnus showers him with gratitude—until he inevitably drags Sigurd back into his mess again. That’s probably why Magnus instinctively turns to Sigurd with every problem, even when it would make more sense to ask Björn. Only Sigurd seems to know how to talk him down and help him understand even the messiest of situations. Magnus tends to worry on Sigurd’s behalf — a habit Sigurd doesn’t appreciate due to past experiences with Magnus’s more controlling tendencies. But Magnus’s intentions are good; he simply wants to help and offer support. Accepting that help, though, is a real challenge for Sigurd. Magnus knows Sigurd has a tendency to bottle things up and fall into depressive episodes, and it’s something he’s quietly concerned about. He tries to keep Sigurd’s spirits up and remind him of the brighter side of life. They often visit each other’s places, though for entirely different reasons, and as a result, they end up spending a lot of time together. Sigurd often thinks Magnus’s way of doing things is ridiculous — but he gets a good laugh when he puts Magnus on skis or drags him up a mountain, watching him struggle through the harsh winter terrain. Magnus, for his part, is just happy to be entertaining. Sigurd cares about Magnus, too, in his own quiet way. He’s just learned to set boundaries so Magnus doesn’t walk all over him. He knows how much he means to Magnus, so he can’t bring himself to be too cold or dismissive. He’ll help when asked but won’t hesitate to scold Magnus to keep him in check. Magnus knows he wasn’t always the best to Sigurd in the past, so he tends to be pretty laid-back when Sigurd teases or mocks him. As much as Sigurd has had to put up with Magnus, he doesn’t hold a grudge—not even when he easily could. They’ve worked through their past issues more than once and, for the most part, moved on. And no matter how much Sigurd complains about Magnus’s constant presence in his life, he always answers the phone when Magnus calls—and always shows up when asked. ─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Finland / Timo Sigurd and Timo get along remarkably well, sharing a number of common interests, like winter sports and music, that give them easy ground to bond over. Sigurd is unusually generous with Timo, often lending him gear or bringing him over-the-top gifts, which Magnus and Björn find unfair, as they’re not given such privileges. Sigurd insists that Timo is simply more trustworthy, and he trusts Timo to handle his stuff with care. Sigurd and Timo tend to drift to the sidelines during gatherings, content to sit with a cup of coffee and talk quietly. They have been through similar experiences they can both relate to, and thus far, they haven’t provoked one another too badly, making their friendship rather drama-free. Timo has always admired Sigurd, ever since they were young. There was something distant and mysterious about him that made Timo want to get closer, mimicking Sigurd in little ways, trying to be more like him. That admiration hasn’t really faded; Timo still sees Sigurd as someone effortlessly cool, someone worth looking up to. He follows his lead with almost blind loyalty, always ready to join him on hikes or fishing trips with eager enthusiasm. Sigurd, in turn, finds Timo’s stories amusing and his quiet resilience endearing. They’re not each other’s first pick when it comes to social plans, but when they do spend time together, they genuinely enjoy it. Sigurd appreciates how easy it is to be around Timo, how he laughs at his dry jabs about Björn or follows along with his plans without needing to be convinced. Sometimes, though, Timo’s passivity and eagerness to please clash with Sigurd’s snarkiness and competitive streak. He feels a bit guilty if he's being too sarcastic with him. Timo’s too kind to push back, and more often than not, the sass may go completely over his head. Because of that, Sigurd holds back more than he does with others. ─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Iceland / Eiríkur Sigurd has never been good at parenting or taking responsibility for others, so he has a lot of regrets concerning Eiríkur. He has always known Eiríkur is his brother but has never been able to connect with him. That doesn't mean he doesn't care about the kid, but Sigurd just never found a way to claim that big brother status. They're very similar in nature, but that also means they're both bad at communicating and prefer to keep everything in. Nowadays, Eiríkur sometimes insists on his independence with the same stubborn pride Sigurd once had, insisting he doesn’t need anyone fussing over him. Sigurd respects that space, but his distance can unintentionally reinforce Eiríkur’s fears regarding Sigurd. The irony isn’t lost as each is trying, in their own clumsy way, to protect the other from disappointment. Sigurd's attempt to reclaim their lost bond is sometimes irritating to Eiríkur, even though he knows it shouldn't be. He just has lots of disappointing memories when it comes to his brother, which is the reason for his underlying insecurities between them, like the lingering fear that Sigurd might disappear again, as he has before. On the other hand, Sigurd has always given Eiríkur the freedom Magnus never knew how to give. He took Eiríkur on long trips and taught him necessary life skills that gave him the critical tools to survive on his own. Eiríkur adored Sigurd growing up, always choosing him over anyone else. He used to light up at the mere mention of Sigurd’s name and grew jealous if someone else claimed his brother’s attention. When Eiríkur was nervous or unsure as a child, Sigurd would tell him fantastical stories and restore hope in him, uniting them through their shared love for stories and imagination. When Sigurd was bedridden by the plague, little Eiríkur stood by him. He would sit by his bed, read books, and talk to him, as they'd tell each other stories. Eiríkur could bring Sigurd messages and meals while occasionally spying on Magnus and Björn, reporting back what they were planning. But other days, Sigurd was too ashamed or tired to even let Eiríkur into his room, giving the poor kid mixed signals on what he was supposed to do. Many times, Sigurd's own need for autonomy took precedence over his responsibilities to Eiríkur — desperate attempts to hold on to the few meaningful tasks that gave him a sense of purpose. Sometimes, the choices weren’t even Sigurd’s to make, as orders from above pulled him away. There were days when Eiríkur expected Sigurd to come and visit him, waiting patiently at the harbor, watching every ship that came in, expecting his brother to step off the deck from one of them. But he didn’t. Eventually, Eiríkur learned not to get his hopes up, but the disappointment carved itself into him, leaving a quiet scar that never fully faded. Sigurd feels immense regret for not being there when Eiríkur was small, left alone on a harsh island during his most formative years. But Sigurd was only a teenager himself then. Even if he had been there, he doubts he would’ve been the role model Eiríkur needed. Still, the guilt lingers, and he tries to make up for it in the present. They go camping and fishing when time allows, returning to the wild places where they feel most at ease. Around the campfire, they talk about the past. Eiríkur is endlessly curious about their roots and history, and Sigurd does his best to help, though time has eroded many of his memories. Sigurd wants to make sure his brother has what he needs, that he’s equipped to live better, freer, and more fulfilled than Sigurd ever was. But expressing love has never come easily to him, so instead of words, he keeps buying things for Eiríkur, always asking if he has everything he needs, which Eiríkur insists he does. Both Sigurd and Eiríkur have regrets and disappointments regarding their shared past, but they will always have that unique family bond no one can take away from them. ─•~❉᯽❉~•─

England / Arthur Both Sigurd and Arthur are old friends who go way back, bound by years of cooperation. Both are ambitious by nature and aware of what they want, yet not always the best at being emotionally present or vulnerable. In many ways, their similarities make their friendship feel effortless. Sigurd has always seen Arthur as a respectable peer, someone who understands and sees Sigurd’s effort. Over the years, Arthur has supported Sigurd during some of the most difficult periods of his life, offering help when people wouldn’t expect him to. While Arthur has managed to get on many people's wrong sides and people's opinion isn't always favorable of him, Sigurd has gotten rare glimpses of a softer Arthur that very few get to see. They often collaborate closely, especially in matters of work, and there's a warmth to their friendship that shows most in small gestures. Sigurd, for instance, never misses the chance to go all out with Christmas gifts. And while Arthur is often busy and hard to pin down, he never turns down the chance to share a drink with his quiet old friend. However, sometimes Sigurd is faced with an awkward position due to Arthur’s and Eiríkur’s disinterest in one another, as he doesn’t want to seem like he’s siding with one over the other. Arthur and Eiríkur just don't really get along, but for the sake of Sigurd, they try to at least pretend. ─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Ireland / Saoirse Saoirse's and Sigurd's histories are deeply intertwined, shaped by tensions and collaborations between their former peers. Saoirse, sharp-tongued and quick-witted, didn’t exactly warm up to the Norseman right away. But even back then, she had a sense of humor that cut through his cold exterior. She also had a fearless spark that challenged him in ways few others could. When he pushed her, she pushed back. When he played rough, she returned the energy with twice the force. Saoirse, too, has always loved storytelling and music, talents that Sigurd has long admired from a distance. Her creativity and charisma drew him in, even if he didn’t always know how to say it. During their time in America, the two reconnected as adults, finding more common ground than before. The noisy rivalry of childhood gave way to a friendship marked by loyalty and a shared determination to survive in a new harsh situation. Nowadays, Saoirse teases Sigurd every now and then, especially when he’s in the presence of Arthur or Alasdair. This is to remind them he’s an old friend of hers too! Unfortunately, Saoirse has a knack for sniffing out gossip, so Sigurd has to keep his guard up around her to make sure his secrets stay buried, for now. ─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Scotland / Alasdair Alasdair and Sigurd have known each other for as long as either of them can remember. From the very beginning, their relationship was shaped by the tensions from deep-rooted rivalries. First impressions were tainted by prejudice but also riddled by a persistent curiosity. As children, they played together despite the tension — sometimes too rough, ending in scratches and one of them running off in tears. And yet, no matter how many times they separated, that pull toward one another never quite faded. In those early days, Sigurd was bolder, at times impossible to handle. A menace in the eyes of many, especially during the chaos of the Middle Ages. Alasdair, by contrast, was already brimming with pride and an unshakable sense of confidence, always standing tall even when others tried to cut him down. His fierce spirit and charisma fascinated Sigurd, while Alasdair was equally intrigued by Sigurd’s mysteriousness. But Sigurd's path got complicated. Tied down by the demands of centralized rule and weakened by the plague, he found himself trapped within constraining unions and a loss of influence that left him weak and apathetic. During the Kalmar Union, his failing health and desperation to retain a sliver of autonomy left him too afraid to meet many of his peers, feeling like a shadow of his former self. And yet, when Alasdair reappeared in his life, something shifted. The Scot’s energy offered Sigurd comfort and relief, giving him a brief escapism from his state. In another timeline, perhaps they would have worked together more, built something lasting through alliances, but history had other plans. Even when political duties kept them apart, they remained close via handwritten letters, with something unspoken lingering between them. During occasional meetings, whether by trade or diplomatic visits, their connection only deepened. A quiet, persistent yearning began to take root, romantic in nature but carefully concealed beneath layers of duty, uncertainty, and timing that never quite lined up. It wasn’t until the 19th century that they found themselves drawn together again — both of them older, hardened by experience. Sigurd, now part of yet another union, was fighting more fiercely than ever to carve out his independence, while Alasdair was navigating his own path through the tides of industrialization and being more tightly cooperative (or controlled) through his siblings. The two of them crossed paths more frequently, and this time, their bond became something unapologetically intimate, though still kept from public view. Their relationship became a quiet rebellion, a way to find solace while being drowned by decisions made above their heads. Neither of them asked for the roles they inherited, but in each other, they found a rare compassion and freedom. Even now, they continue to see one another — no longer as secretive as they once were, but still careful. Their relationship is unconventional, perhaps even unserious to some, but it works. Neither is in a rush to settle down. Sometimes, they both wish history had been kinder to them. But then again, they've never let fate stop them from trying. After all, it’s a rare privilege to love someone since childhood and still have eternity to figure it all out.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

#wow i said everything there is to say about him. i'll never talk about norway again /j #i wanted to write a detailed history section but the post was getting too long. enjoy these ~8K words for now #hws norway #hetalia #hetalia headcanons

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