#RTV

[bobo-tucci]

[kyoobot]

Anyone else use to watch SVN late at night? 

[synintheraven]

Okay let's clear some things out; 1) I don't write smut bc I suck at it 2) this is part of a bigger story where the main character/reader gets to know Sihtric throughout several situations, so this is perfect if you want to read about Sihtric & reader's little made-up adventures but not so much if you're only here to read naughty stuff 😅 3) I have no idea what I'm doing :p

pic credits to myself, feel free to use them too/ask for originals (:

✵pairing: sihtric kjartansson x fem!reader

✵summary/small introduction: reader (she/her) is a Norse, Sihtric is a (actual, as in born there) Dane. Sihtric & reader meet each other for the very first time, but I kept it simple and kinda short so you'll have to keep on reading to find out how this goes (; [Side note: Yggr is one of my ocs and the Jarl/Chief of the group, but will not be a current character other than to accompany/give orders to Sihtric and reader]

✵tw: mentions of violence

✵word count: 1,5k

characters info | part two

We were near; the tall cliffs once casting shadows over the sea were far behind us and the fog was getting thicker over the marshes. East Anglia was a land of fishermen huts, distant trees and bad weather: yet somewhere in this muddy land, a band of fiery fighters were hiding and getting ready to fight for their lord.

I recognized the stranded ship half covered in sand, which Yggr had described to me, surrounded by muddy rocks and a small spot of land untouched by the sea waters. Near the rocks, among tall reeds, the camp was set and a handful of men were sat around the bonfire in an attempt to fight the cold wind.

Except for one man.

A tall, dark haired man, covered in a fur cloak; his left hand was resting over the hilt of his sword as he stood near the coast, staring cautiously at our ship as if he was trying to tell who we were. But, as we approached the small island and the fog revealed Yggr’s wild hair, the mysterious man prepared to greet us.

The sail was taken down and the crew started to row against the current, sliding through the rather calm waves to take the ship towards the land. It didn’t take long for the prow to reach the sand and before we were fully beached, Yggr jumped off our ship to meet with the dark haired stranger.

He had a concerned expression and his hand remained over the hilt of his sword, ready to fight should the need arise. Yet, unlike him, Yggr was quick to smile and open his arms, embracing the now smirking Dane like a brother.

The man was Sihtric Kjartansson, a warrior that served the long haired blonde, though he treated him like a big stupid brother rather than as his lord and jarl. Both Danes had grew up together, sticking to each other as their parents seemed to care little next to nothing for the young boys, making it no surprise the concerned stranger was in command during the jarl’s absence.

I didn’t know much about him back then, only that he was a fine warrior and a loyal man; but I had also been told he was rather friendly and welcoming, yet Sihtric looked at me with wary eyes. I stared back at him, almost trying to decipher what was going on inside his mind: studying his gaze, the storm brewing inside his blue eye and the dancing flames around the pupil of his brown eye.

He had the face of a warrior, with scars running down from his forehead and marking the flesh over his deep cheekbones, making me wonder if he was hiding any other under the strands of hair over his temple or under the scarce beard around his rather full lips.

I had jumped on the wet sand of the island shortly after Yggr, however being the only woman among all those men, suddenly the warriors resting around the fire seemed eager to welcome our crew. Everyone but Sihtric, who embraced his lord for a while but pushed him away as his men came along with curious looks.

Unfortunately for everyone else, I was not to be touched or harmed: for I was there merely to help build the camp and eventually, should the strings of my destiny allow it, find the man that killed my family.

The first birds of the day were singing their songs and the sun was setting, the land slowly revealing itself from the fog. It was a cold morning and it got worse as we had to get our feet wet in order to cross from shore to shore, but we were to stay unnoticed and therefore not to use our ship.

We were scouting the surrounding area, following the shore in hopes to find a bigger place to set a new camp. I was walking beside Yggr, with Sihtric a few paces before us to guide our way around; the rest of our group were either guarding our current camp or exploring other areas, though all of us were after the same goal.

The best hiding spots were among reeds, trees and muddy rocks, but those often surrounded water and the rising tides could be treacherous.

We saw stone ruins, abandoned churches and half burnt farms, all a consequence of folk escaping their homes in order to keep their lives, to escape the horrors brought by the monsters from across the sea.

Danes like us were plundering all of Britain; they came with the promise of riches and vengeance but stayed to become kings and killed anyone who opposed them. They had come here to do what that mad man had done to my family, my people.

 I trusted Yggr’s words when he said he didn’t care about a title. He lost his chance to be king and decided to embrace a simple life, only hoping to find a nice place to thrive and stay unbothered by Saxons. Or so it was until the Great Heathen Army decided to terrorize the country, turning our heads into targets for anyone who caught us, Danes and Norse alike, wandering around.

We had stopped, suddenly. We were standing atop a small hill that went deeper in land, hoping to get a better view; the wind was blowing hard and the sun shone upon the land, easily revealing all areas of the territory.

Yggr remained silent, his mind lost somewhere in the dark blue waters from the ocean as the cold wind blew on his hair and beard. Sihtric stood next to me, his eyes narrowed because of the sun while he pointed his finger towards the tall roman ruins to the north.

—That looks like a good spot. —He said to Yggr then quickly looked my way, noticing I was the only one truly listening to him. It was, probably, the very first time he wasn’t eyeing me as if expecting me to take a knife to their throats. —I saw it before, but rain soaked the mud. It will take some work to stop that from happening again.

He had a very calming voice and explained all the work that had to be done for that old ruin to be a proper camp, though in truth all I could think about was the scars on his face: suggesting the man had been in many battles, despite being only a few winters older than Halfdan’s son.

—You two can go. —The blonde man interrupted, resting a hand on mine and Sihtric’s shoulder. —Find some horses and secure the camp, I’ll go find the men and meet you there with the ship.

—Just the two of us? —Sihtric sighed, despite trying to hide his discomfort. —What if the place has been taken? I can’t fight them with, no offense, a woman. —He glanced at me for a split second then stared back at Yggr, hoping to be released of my company.

—I am Norse. And my father raised a warrior, not a weak girl that needs some Dane’s protection. —I snarled back, watching as my words damaged his pride and brought a wide smile to our Jarl.

The only horses we could find belonged to a group of Danes camping in Theotford, a small town with thatched roofs and a run-down church that once sheltered Saxons.

There was about twenty of them, maybe more, standing watch in every corner and every small gap they could find.

—I am not “some Dane”, I’m a warrior too. —He finally added, remembering our earlier conversation.

—You’re the son of Kjartan, right? —I let out and he gave me a grim look then proceeded to avoid my glance, still walking between the tall grasses.

—We’re never going to make it out alive if we try to take one of their horses. There’s too many of them. —And he was right, those were trained warriors and we were merely a pair of lost dogs to them. —The ruins are not too far, we should get there before Yggr if we walk in a straight line and avoid following main roads.

And just like that, our short journey through the autumnal forests of East Anglia began. We walked through shrubs, trees, short walls made of stone and saw a few deer, but there was no sight of other people anywhere. We avoided getting too close to farms or church ruins, trying to remain silent whenever our surroundings were suspiciously quiet.

—So tell me, Dane, how did you end up in Norway? —I interrupted, getting a judging stare from him when he caught me walking closely by his side.

—He told you we should get to know each other, right? —He asked dismissively, moving a few steps ahead of me.

—He suggested we should get along if we’re to live together in the same camp, but you’re not as friendly as he promised.

A hint of a smirk showed on his face, though it didn’t last long. —My father sold information to Halfdan and left me in Alrekstad to either die or be raised by the king’s servants. —He admitted after a while, looking troubled as he spoke.

—There are worst destinies than to be raised with Yggr, I suppose. —I said and saw him grinning at my comment, finally showing some sort of emotion in my presence.

—What about you, Stavanger? —He taunted, making it obvious that our fool of a Jarl told him about my homeland and, therefore, my newly acquired nickname.

—That’s my homeland, yes. But I come from the Isle of Ikke, a once thriving city to the north of Stavanger.

—Then what brought you to Alrekstad?

—Vengeance. —I said cheerfully, but he gave me a concerned look in return.

Some bonus fun facts:

✯Yggr is the son of Halfdan, King of Alrekstad (modern Årstad, in Norway). He's not inspired by any TLK character, though he has a similar personality and looks to Ragnar The Younger, with some of Cnut's silly sense of humour. Yggr was to inherit his father's throne, but has no issue embracing a simpler life - even though his former position as a prince and charisma turned him into his Clan's Jarl (basically an english Earl, but a Jarl can also be someone trusted by its people and chosen as a chief).

✯Reader was born in a small island in Norway (Ikke, which is totally made up hehe) but her family was massacred when she was a baby, so she grew up seeking vengeance.

✯Sihtric isn't a bastard but his mother died giving birth to him and so Kjartan despises him/never properly treated him as his son (nor did he to Sven but he grew up to be just as his father and so Kjartan eventually accepted him as his son).

✯As this story is unrelated to what happens in TLK, I had Kjartan vanished from Denmark; though he became wealthy again by playing the pirate in other territories and selling information to kings as Halfdan, Harald Fairhair and few more across the sea...

[flatluigi]

[rev-crazy]

i made this image last night and im really infatuated wiht it

[tomazsantl]

Matic Flajs/ Ljubljana/ 2022

[since-the-twist-of-fate]

i'll say i'm happy for her

and then i'll cry myself to sleep

[youdreamimpossiblethings]

[sata-cable]

[synintheraven]

✵pairing: sihtric kjartansson x fem!reader

✵summary: the crew goes raiding in an attempt to gain riches and reader keeps taunting Sihtric as he's still reluctant to her being there at all.

✵tw: mentions of blood/violence, violence, fire (as in provoked fire, burning stuff?)

✵word count: 1,5k (note: will try to keep chapters about this long so I can divide the story into many chapters hehe)

characters info | part one | part three

It was raining. The air smelt of wet grass and damp earth, filling my nostrils. Watching as water drenched the timber of the floor, or how drops fell from the thatched roof over our heads.

It was a cold, dark night and I missed the warmth offered by fire and a dry cloak over my shoulders. But everyone was sleeping and no one suspected a few wolves were quietly wandering among sheep.

We had managed to find a small village, still safe from the clutches of the Great Army’s Danes. It lay on the Black Bourn River, hidden behind willow trees and yellow reeds: looking like no more than an old ruin from afar, but with enough riches to fill our ship.

The place was scattered with small houses going inland, following the road through empty fields and skinny farm animals, stopping where a sad tree marked the entrance. There were no guards, no fighters; only a few old hounds and a single rusty bell to the far side of the village, near the deserted docks.

Yggr was standing by the entrance of the hut, peering outside as we waited behind him. The place smelt like animal dung and water was passing through the holes in the thatch. But we had swords in our hands and eyes sharp, ready to surprise sleeping Saxons.

—Sihtric, Y/N: you two, go. —He beckoned towards the thegn’s house, whose position was given away by the bigger size of its estate.

We went fast, but quietly. Keeping hold of our weapons and avoiding puddles, walking carefully through the bushes.

Sihtric went first, guiding me through the village as he avoided the light from torches and bonfires. Searching for a way into the hut, for doors creaked and we couldn’t risk getting caught, at least not until we had seized the thegn.

We had managed to find an uncovered window, revealing a small area with a table and leftovers from supper still scattered around. It was our way in, though we needed to remain unnoticed.

I jumped through, and scooted the room to ensure there was no one else around, looking for spying eyes before Sihtric came through. Yet the darkness of the room hid no one, not even when thunder brought some light through the wooden window.

The man we were searching for was resting only a few steps away from us, a poor straw wall being the only thing in between us and the four of them; two children, the man’s wife and our target. I moved slowly, approaching his wife and kids, while Sihtric stood behind the man.

He held his short sword to the man’s throat, awakening him with a soft blow on the chest before speaking. —Where’s the silver? —He said in English, but to me it sounded like he was making up words.

The Saxon’s answer was decisive, for it was up to him whatever we were to do next: he could either scream, therefore have Yggr burn everything and everyone to the ground, or he could stay calm and save everyone by giving us a simple answer. Yet by the Dane's reaction, I suspected his answer wasn’t the one we wanted.

—You lie! —He bellowed with a frown, awaking the man’s family. —Tell me where the silver is or she will kill them.

The man remained calm, despite the cold steel threatening the flesh from his neck. His wife, however, looked around with eyes wide open and sat on the furs determined to cry for help, though my sword pointing towards the kids made her reconsider.

—Burn in hell, heathen. —The thegn snarled back, spitting on Sihtric’s face while his kids and wife felt nothing but terror.

Whatever he had said set the Dane’s eyes ablaze and, all of a sudden, there was nothing but rage in his face. Stumbling on his own feet and with his eyes fixated on his poor wife’s worried expression, the man had his wrists tied together and was then forced out of the hut.

Rain drenched their clothes as they stood in the front yard, both facing the burning huts and Yggr’s warriors as they looted the place.

—You chose your pride over your people, now you’ll see them burn! —He spoke loudly, kicking the man’s legs and forcing him on his knees. Then, I suppose, proceeded to repeat what he had said in English, causing the man to twitch around and try to get rid of Sihtric's hold.

But there was no way back. Yggr and his men had heard us and set the thatched roofs ablaze.

It was quite a sight; fire burning bright in the dark night, as the storm and the villagers tried to stop it from spreading. Some men attempted to go after our crew and tried to use hooks, small axes or whatever they could find to defend their belongings, their land. And they died or got seriously injured, fighting with skilled warriors and not mere farmers like them.

Yggr was standing only a few steps from us, stopping his frenzy for a moment to look at the thegn. The light from the fire lit his blonde hair and the fresh blood running down his axe, which he pointed towards us.  —Is this what you want, Saxon? —He said with a deep voice, loud enough to be heard despite the heavy storm and screaming warriors around him. —Show me the silver and I’ll spare your life and those of your people.

Sihtric held the man’s head, forcing him to look at our Jarl. He must have been trying to seem strong and unbreakable, looking somewhere into the sky while murmuring unknown words; but a man’s pride has limits, and we had pushed his too far.

—Enough! —He pointed with his head, sighing as my Dane companion forced him to stand once again. —It’s inside the well, there!

The formidable Norse swung his axe around, allowing the water rain to wash the blood from the steel as he moved it towards the startled Saxon. The man was brought closer to the well, which was covered in mush, grass and a few rocks, a subtle cover for the hoard hidden inside.

But as the men searched for treasure, I remained next to the house; still pointing my sword at one of the kid’s throats, his sobbing mother watching as her husband surrendered what little wealth they had to us.

One full bucket of trinkets and the few horses we managed to steal, that was all. Merely enough to buy dirty furs or grain, far from Yggr’s dream to become a proper lord on his first week raiding East Anglia.

The Ragnarsson’s Army had scourged Britain and rid it of the bigger, wealthier riches, and there was nothing we could do about it. We had too little a number to fight them, let alone to try and invade the only territory that remained Saxon and clean of Danes: Wessex.

That was the country’s jewel, the only one that couldn’t be taken. A kingdom that promised the dreamiest treasures and plenty of big, fertile lands for each and every warrior following the brothers.

There was word that King Alfred’s kingdom was stronger since the King’s brother passed, but we Danes and Norse thought the bastard was only lucky; for there were more ships navigating the rivers each day, all of them coming from their homes in the North.

I was sitting next to Sihtric, silently watching the dancing flames in front of us as he sharpened his sword. While Yggr sat near the crumbling wall on the far side of the camp, staring somewhere into the foggy land around us.

It was a dark cold night, without a single star in the sky. The thick fog covering the land around us and the heavy rain falling on the river, deafening every other sound.

Our hiding place now had a timber wood floor and a poorly built thatched roof, along with a small bonfire to warm us. Though we still had no walls, the tall pillars built by giants being the only kind of cover against wandering strangers and the autumnal weather.

—Those tall buildings with old men in dirty robes. That’s where the good stuff is at. —Said a man sitting behind us, loud enough to be heard despite the storm. —We won’t survive long here, trapped in these muddy ruins like a hare surrounded by wolves.

—Soon, hare, you’ll become the wolf. —Sihtric paused, his eyes fixed on a deep nick over the sword’s blade. —But there’s nothing left for us in those places, or here in East Anglia.

—Where are we going, then? —I interrupted, taking the weapon from his grip. —To put this big boy knife of yours to good use, I hope.

Sihtric barely showed a smirk, but I could tell he wasn’t happy sharing his belongings with me, nor with my teasing jokes. —Until the scouts come back, nowhere. —He slowly took his sword back then cleared his throat awkwardly, but kept his bold, mismatched look on me.

—You’re going spying. —Said Yggr, joining us to stand beside the fire, his hands hovering over the warmth. —I can’t sit and wait for them to return, so you’ll join Ivar Ragnarsson in Mercia. Just the two of you.

[assortedwhatever]

[miku-voice-feminization]

got my textile-obsessed roommate into wayneradiotv's gnome series and in return they cross-stiched this beautiful object for me

[dykeferatu]

[channeledhistory]

[therestisvoid]

i'll have what i'm having