#shannygoatgruff

[conaionaru]

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Never wanted to leave

Synopsis: Siflead is back with bad news

Warnings: angst, talk of revenge, depression, golden child syndrome, people pleaser Vanya, power couple Ivar x Vanya

Tags:

@xbellaxcarolinax @queenbeeta @thereareendlessopportunities @chynagirl13 @astridbaby @heavenly1927 @buckysjuicyplums @youbloodymadgenius @didiintheblog @lol-haha-joke @shannygoatgruff @xvxcarolinexvx  @stepintothelightz

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it. If you want to be tagged please write me<3

"I have come to talk to my daughter. Princess Vanya of Slegia." Siflæd screamed, watching the heathens stare. "Savages." She spat under her breath, scanning the crowd for her daughter. "I know she is here. A messenger saw her arrive."

"I am here, Mother." Vanya called from the middle of the crowd, Hoenir on her tail. The people parted for their princess and little prince. Aros whined in her arms at the commotion.

Siflæd frowned at the state her daughter was in. Braided red hair a mess, and the clothes of a savage lined with fur. "Magenta is not your color."

"I quite like it." Vanya walked to her former people. They were her people, weren't they? Finally free of Silas and his tyranny. And now they are standing there, an army ready to fight to protect their Queen. Queen Siflæd. "What do you want with me?"

"To talk. Eye to eye. Not army to army." Vanya nodded and motioned for them to follow her into the camp. They sat the two redheads down at a table, surrounded by heathens and christians alike.

"Then talk." Aros whined in her arms again so she shifted him around and swayed him, not letting her eyes leave her mother.

Siflæd looked at the small bundle and scoffed at the dark hair that peeked from the furs. "Dark hair. He is not kissed by fire." Her eyes trailed up her daughters frame and rested on the messed up braids. "Unlike you. I always liked that about you. You had my hair. Our family's hair. Proof that you could wither storms. Unlike Silas. He was always weak."

"We was your firstborn."

"And where is he now? The heir to two kingdoms. Sent to me in bloody pieces. My son. Dead."

Vanya dug her nails into her palms to hide her anger from her mother. Siflæd never likes when Vanya showed any emotion unbecoming of a princess. Or any emotion at all. "You never treated him like your son, Mother."

"He was rotten since birth. I tried to love him. And what did it bring me? Osmond saw no future in him. A knight, that's what he wanted to make of Silas. And then the fool died and Silas took the throne."

Vanya sighed and motioned for the thralls to pour them both mead. Alcohol would soften her mother a bit. Hopefully. "I heard you got married."

"Ecbert's family. He is... Bearable."

"Do you love him?"

"Marriage isn't about love."

"Mine is."

Siflæd laughed and sipped from her chalice. "Ah yes, your marriage to the youngest of Ragnar's sons. I was so against it. Especially when the priests told me who you would marry. The youngest with no way to the throne, a cripple."

Vanya bit the inside of her cheek and watched the guards her mother bought warily. They were on edge. Maybe it was the camp, or Hoenir glaring them down. Either was fine by her. "Do you know why Silas chose him?"

"He thought he couldn't produce an heir."

"Obviously..." Siflæd glanced as Aros. "He was wrong. How was childbirth?"

"Painful."

"It usually is."

"I barely got rest. Silas sent his knights to kill us both. I managed to escape and nearly drowned and froze. That's the reason he is dead." The guards stiffened at the revealed truth. "All that was mentioned in the letter you got with his body to give him a proper burial. You held no love for him. Or me. Neither did I. So don't blame me."

Siflæd rolled her eyes and showed her the wedding band Osmond gave her. "I don't blame you. I never wished to marry, to endure hours of labor only for my husband to fuck some other woman. I dreamt of true love. As did you. Foolish dreams."

"You told me I don't have to love Ivar, only the children. You never loved neither."

"I didn't smother you in your sleep. That is love. I gave you life. I would have rather gone to the nunnery than marry that old sinner. But he was wealthy and wanted children. So I gave him a son. He wasn't good enough. You know why, Vanya?"

The younger redhead frowned. "He told you of his affair."

"Yes." Siflæd nodded, holding up a finger. "But. He said that God told him that Silas was cursed. Possessed by the devil. All because he didn't cry. Poor bloody little babe, nearly choked to death before he took his first breath. And all Osmond saw was a cursed child. Oh but how he cried afterwards. I hated it. His shrill little voice. I tried to love him. But he was so exhausting. And I though that a second child would be better. Yet you came to destroy my marriage. And yet I would have killed every last savage if it was your corpse that came back."

Vanya swallowed the bile in her throat. "They threat me better than you ever did."

"I am your mother, Child. Remember that."

"Only when it fits you."

Siflæd sighed and downed the alcohol. She looked exhausted. "Ceolmund told me to come. I may hold anger to Silas. But he was mine. I bought him into this world. And you took him from me. Just like he took you from me. Just like Osmond took you from me. You were his to control. All I had to do was put the fear of God into you. The only thing that gives me joy, is that he would be disappointed in your new worship."

Vanya shook her head and whispered something to Hoenir so her mother couldn't hear. "Whispering is unbecoming of a lady. You have be a lot of things since I arrived, but don't be disrespectful."

"Blessed are the meek, Mother." Vanya parroted and smiled mockingly. "I'm sorry. I should have thanked you the moment you arrived. That was a mistake."

"Yes it was."

"You just never told me why you came? To blame me for Silas's actions? Mock me? What are your intentions. I doubt it was a friendly visit."

Siflæd chuckled and pointed at the necklace around Vanya's neck. It was the same one she gave her before sending her off to Kattegat. "I never once doubted you. They all demanded that I break your will, make you week. Meek. But you are of the House of the rising sun. You are kissed by fire. And I would never sent a child of mine without a weapon. Silas had his knights. And you..."

She pulled the necklace from her neck and slammed her cup against the crystal. Vanya stared at the broken necklace with some weird powder hidden in it. Siflæd dipped her finger into the powder and showed it to her last remaining child. "Poison for the man who would lay a hand on you. Watching the ceiling can only last so long. Sometimes you must interfere and kill the man before he kills you."

"Like you did with father."

"He was old. His heart gave out while on top of a milkmaid. He suffered for a while. I prayed by his bed. I wanted him to live. Not kill him. Slegia and Wrosan were safe under Osmond, no matter what man he was under the crown."

Vanya looked down sadly and sighed. "Silas destroyed that security."

"He killed it without a second thought. And when he decided to sail to Kattegat... I thought he would bring you home. Not kill you."

"And yet here I stand. While he is dead. Stithulf manipulated him."

Siflæd chuckled and nodded. "That little knight. Ambitious, sinful. Just like his motivations. He saw no puppet in Silas."

"What then?" The thrall returned pulling a barrel of mead with her to satiate the Saxon Queen.

"The same Osmond saw in those whores. What I saw in my lovers and what you see in that husband of yours."

Vanya's breath hitched. This whole time that Stithulf was using Silas to gain power. He had ulterior motives. His admiration for Silas, the resentment to his actions, his need to kill Vanya and Aros. He needed stone cold proof that Silas will remain king. Even without an heir. In case... He returned his affections.

"He loved Silas."

"And that oaf was too stupid to see it. Oh, the looks that Stithulf threw at Silas. Pathetic. Lovesick. Slegia and Wrosan would fall if Silas realized that his most trusted knight loved him like that."

"He was meant to marry Ecbert's niece."

"Great niece. It was all orchestrated anyway. Silas thought that Eofohild would give him a child. He was clueless."

"He said she seduced him and was forced to marry him to save her face."

"True. But it never came to anything."

"What?"

Vanya stared at her mother in shock. "Are you deaf? Silas and Eofohild never fucked. He was far too drunk. And she wasn't his type. He was meant to think that something happened so Ecbert could gain power over Slegia and Wrosan. He would put a baby in her over time and the family would have an heir that gave Ecbert another kingdom to rule."

"Wasn't his type?"

"A mother sees and knows. Why do you think Silas kept the boy so close? There was no loyalty or trust on Silas's side. Only a lust he couldn't place. And when Stithulf nodded along, oh he loved that. Eofohild was unmarried and willing. But Silas couldn't get it up. She came to me crying so we pretended it happened. He was far too drunk to know. But Stithulf knew. So the only way to give Ecbert what he wanted without Silas rebelling."

"Was to marry Eofohild's father. You are giving Wrosan and Slegia to Ecbert."

"Either that or bankruptcy." Siflæd handed Vanya a parchment with the kings seal on it. With shaking fingers, Vanya unraveled it to see a message from the king or more of a a threat.

"I King Ecbert of Wessex and Mercia, extend a helping hand to a fellow kingdom in need. After years of suffering, I offer my niece's hand in marriage in exchange for freedom. If you refuse this offer, be aware of the upcoming end of your beloved kingdom. Either by the collapse of your treasury or city walls."

Vanya stared at her mother in shock. It was a blatant threat disguised as a helping hand. "The treasury. What's with it?"

"Nearly empty. Spend on Silas's voyage to his death."

Vanya swallowed. The people would starve, repairs, it would all fall. Just like Ecbert said. "While your new family wages war against half of the world. I saved the kingdom."

"You sold it to the lowest bidder."

"Same thing."

Vanya scoffed. "You agreed to a deal that made you lose your kingdom. Both of them. To hide the fact that you are poor. But if the king knows, then it can't be the people that are complaining."

"My balls may have lost some of its glamour."

"While your people starve! You wasted money while your people slowly plummeted to poverty."

Siflæd waved her hand and drank the rest of her mead. The barrel was empty. And Vanya barely touched her cup. "I ruled as I was asked to do while Osmond was alive. Silas is the one that killed all our benefactors. I am queen not a miracle worker. I can't put money into an empty hole. All I can do is give people people what they desire. I can put up a front that everything is alright. The people have their crops, what is some money to them. They barely know what gold is."

"You are killing them and feel no remorse. That aren't christian values."

"Faith is useless against poverty. What can a prayed do against an army? Against Ecberts army."

A man runs into the camp happily. He is covered in blood and smiling. "Ælle was blood eagled by the Ragnarssons."

The people cheered. The saxons looked around confused. "What did they say?"

"Ælle has fallen. Ecbert is next." Vanya told her mother coldly and burned the letter from Ecbert in the fire near them. "Leave."

"Are you willing to sacrifice your freedom for some commoners?"

Vanya stared her drunk mother down and looked at the guards. "Please bring Queen Mother back to her quarters safe. Slegia will remain independent. Tell that to the new rulers." She looked at her stumbling mother with disgust in her eyes. "When they are fit to listen."

"Yes, Princess Vanya."

[malenamoonlight]

Some Lagertha fanfiction that I love:

“Show me who you” are by irisdouglasiana (our @/ivarthebadbitch): https://archiveofourown.org/works/34371013

“Engendered” by @/shannygoatgruff 

“My daughter, my girl (Daughters Anthology)” by @/pomegranates-and-blood

“The Queen's Shield” by juice_and_vodka (@/reegistrying on tumblr): https://archiveofourown.org/works/33094780

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Happy Birthday Shanny!♈️

Wishing my girl @shannygoatgruff​ a very happy birthday!!!

Here’s a collage of some of your faves! (Because your crush list is wayyyy too long.) I’m clearly not that good, but I hope you like it! 😘

[shannygoatgruff]

00:00:13

Genre: Social responsibility

Pairing: Alex Høgh Andersen/OC

Warning: Language, racial slur, prejudice, mention of the YouTube video

Rating: M+18

Header by: @flowers-in-your-hayr​

For: @xbellaxcarolinax​ - thanks for lending me an ear and encouraging me to continue writing this story

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on something I saw that evoked a feeling in me. I don’t know Alex or that guy in the video. I don’t own the rights to use him or anything else in my story. I’m just going off something out there on the internet that I wish wasn’t ever there for me to have to write a story about in the first place.

A/N:  So, I don’t know if this is the right time to post this story or not, but it’s been weighing heavily on my heart for some time now. During one of my many Alex rabbit hole stalking internet searches, I came across this YouTube video of him from a few YEARS ago that made me feel a certain kind of way.  Admittedly, I went through a ton of different emotions.  I made a bunch of excuses for him.  I tried to justify him being drunk, young, being from a different country...not understanding his actions.  As a black woman, I was saddened, and a little heartbroken, but I truly don’t think there was any malice behind it.  I think it was just poor judgment on his part. But, in the end, I came up with, he’s a grown man and as a public figure he needs to be more responsible.  

I am in no way trying to sway anyone’s opinion of him, turn you against him, make you seek the video out or anything else.  I just needed to speak MY truth and get my feelings out about the situation. I’ve been the black girl in too many interracial relationships and friendships with people that just don’t get it. I am in no way trying to offend anyone - these are just my feelings.  I just needed an avenue to speak out.  

Anyway, it didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted it, mainly because I was in my feelings, but I think it’s close enough.      

I’m still an Alex fan and he could get it, at ANY moment...just say the words, Boo!  😍

I invite your comments, thoughts, and feelings...if you just wanna talk, feel free to hit me up.  I’m always open to a good discussion.

With that, 

Be easy!

Thirteen seconds…Nia Howard could do a lot in 13 seconds.  For almost 10 minutes, she had been timing herself to see exactly what types of tasks she could perform in that amount of time.  

In 13 seconds Nia could lace her brand new blue and white checked Chuck Taylor Converse tennis shoe.  She was careful to lace the shoe so the strings were only threaded on the outside of the eye-loops, creating one thick solid line across the bridge, hiding the string feeding into the next eye-loop inside the shoe, just like she liked them. This was a trick she learned in Mrs. Hamilton’s 7th grade Math class, and she had been lacing her shoes that way ever since. 

13 seconds was all it took for her to guzzle 10 ounces of the Dasani water bottle sitting on her desk. She probably could have slammed more of the water down her throat, but she wasn’t that thirsty to begin with. Had she been parched, or had it been something that she wanted to drink, she was sure she could have gotten more than 10 ounces down in that amount of time. 

Nia also discovered that she could refill the liquid nicotine and change the filter in her vape, as long as everything was laid out in front of her, in 13 seconds. She was also able to screw the tank back together, but not put the tank back on the battery base before the timer went off.  That part still took her an additional 3 seconds.  Hmm. 

In 13 seconds, she was able to remove the back of the picture frame, take out the photo, and run her thumb over the glossy paper.  It took less than that amount of time for all of the emotions of the day to come flooding back to her as she stared at their first family photo. 

It had snowed at least a foot that day.  But there they were, outside sitting in all of that powder, freezing. Nia, her boyfriend, Alex, and their then 8-week-old Siberian husky, Vlad.  He thought it would be artistic.  She thought it would be cold.  Vlad thought it was fun, running around in snow deeper than he was tall.  But they were still smiling; they were happy.  They were in love.  

Alex was wearing his favorite navy blue The North Face snowsuit, that he had zipped up to his chin. You could only see the side of his pale face, with his cold red cheek, plump pink lips, and those dark lashes covering his incredible blue eyes.  The rest of him was so bundled up, he looked like the abominable snowman.  He loved the cold and the snow.  Growing up here, these snowy days in Denmark were nothing to him.  Nia, however, wasn’t quite as used to it.  It snowed on the East Coast of the US, but not like it did in Denmark.  Her pink and white snowsuit was more for fashion than warmth.  Sitting in the snow in between Alex’s legs, she was freezing and couldn’t wait for them to finish taking pictures.  

However, his arms were warm around her, and though his lips were cold against the side of her face, she could feel his warm breath tickle her ear as he laughed and told her how much he loved her.  She had leaned against his chest and noted how well her pink and white outfit matched his blue one.  Only her dark brown skin made a contrast against the snow and Alex’s complexion, but she still looked as if she belonged.  

She sat with her feet flat on the ground, knees drawn toward her chest bringing their brown and white puppy, the perfect mix between their two tones, closer to the two of them.  While her head leaned into Alex’s kiss, her eyes concentrated on little Vlad in her lap. She had him turned so the camera could capture his one blue eye and one brown eye, while she gently caressed their fur baby, drawing him in for a kiss on his soft, furry head.  

Could they be any cuter?  They were the perfect family.  They were a good looking couple with a good looking dog.  

Thinking about the day that photo was taken quickly made her mind drift back to the first time Alex told her he loved her. She could vividly remember how he grabbed her face and leaned in for that kiss.  The way he pressed his lips to hers, and how it set off every nerve in her body.  She remembered the way her heart fluttered and how she thought she was going to float right out of her skin. But when he pulled away and looked at her with those blue eyes, he grounded her and brought her right back to the spot where he was. When his eyes shifted between hers, desperately searching for some hint that she felt the same, she knew from that moment that he was the one for her.  That entire encounter, the weightlessness, grounding, feeling his eyes look through her and hearing his heart speak her name, couldn’t have taken more than 13 seconds. She was sure it happened all at the same time.

With everything she timed, 13 seconds seemed like it passed in the blink of an eye.  It was manageable if she had a task to complete, but by no means was it a significant amount of time.  So why did it feel like an eternity, each time she watched that damn video clip?  The more she watched it, the longer it became.  That damn 13-second video clip brought out of her a new set of emotions each time she viewed it.

At first, it was shocking.  She couldn’t register anything she saw because she was too surprised at what she saw. The only thing she could process was the feeling of, Huh? 

So, she watched it again, and this time she did so with a goofy smirk on her face. The smirk was the smirk of embarrassment. Embarrassment for her, for him, for them... for not knowing how to feel.  

She had to sit with it for a few minutes before she could watch it a third time. Instead of just jumping right into again, she decided to go back to the original email and reread the message.  She had been so put off by the video that she forgot what it was that she was being asked to do about it.

When she clicked back on the email from her office and skimmed the contents she could only shake her head. Did they actually expect her to handle this?   Really?  She was a publicist.  His publicist, but come on.  This was asking a bit much, no?  There were 14 other people in that damn firm that could have handled this, even if Alex was her client.  He was still a client of the fucking firm. What was she supposed to do?

Without thinking, she put her thumb to her mouth and started biting the cuticle around her new French manicure.  She had been doing so well with that, too. She only bit or picked at the cuticles on her nails when she was nervous or angry – that’s why she made sure to keep her nail appointments every two weeks. She didn’t want to have ugly cuticles on freshly designed nails.  Now she just wasted 264 DKK.

By the third time she watched the video, she went numb.  She couldn’t tell what she felt, all she knew was her mind wouldn’t let her feel anything.  A million different thoughts and emotions swirled around her, but none of them actually hit her, yet. The best way she could explain it was akin to having an out of body experience.  It felt like the glass desk she sitting at was getting further away from her while her laptop screen continued to get smaller.  She started to see the room she sat in as a person watching this scenario from somewhere else, and as long as she wasn’t directly connected to it, she could continue to disassociate with it. Instead, she could only sit there, with her mouth open, staring blankly at this distant laptop screen, unable to process what the fuck she just saw.  

There were no words. No thoughts.  There was nothing.  Only the feeling of adrenaline coursing through her veins and the sound of her heart breaking in a million pieces, as 13 seconds altered the course of her world.  

Ten minutes had to have passed before Nia clicked the replay button on the YouTube video to watch the clip for the fourth time.  She was in a better place now.  She had gotten up, got a drink of water. Practiced a bunch of things she could do in 13 seconds.  She had refocused.  She could watch it now and deal with it with a clear head. She wasn’t sure how many times she had watched it before – it hadn’t registered. She was still in shock from that initial viewing. But, she needed to watch it again because she had to dissect it.  

Placing her chin in her hand, she didn’t give a fuck if she was transferring her Mahogany Shape Tape foundation and Cocoa Bean Black Radiance pressed powder on her palm.  Fuck the papers that were going to be stained from the makeup transfer.  That was a gripe for another day - black women that wore makeup always had issues with the transfer.  It was the plight of the beauty revolution.  She’d fight that battle another day.  Right now, there more important things to deal with. 

Where the hell were her earphones?  She needed to have the audio go directly into her ears.  There was no time to have the sound filter throughout the loft’s office and possibly get distorted. She needed every word to go directly from the computer, in her ear, and into her brain for immediate translation. Maybe she missed something. Maybe she misinterpreted it. Yea…that was it.  This was on her. It had to be, right?

Plugging in her Beats headphones, she placed them on her ears and turned up the volume on her laptop.  She took in a deep shaky breath and hit the replay button for the fourth time. 

Nope, she hadn’t imagined it.  It was still the same.  He was still having fun, hanging out with those same stupid fucking people.  He was still talking in that same drunken tone.  He still thought everything was so fucking funny and laughed at every fucking thing.  

Why did he do that laugh?  It was laugh he used when he was really tickled.  The one that he accompanied by clapping his hands because he was genuinely amused. It was that laugh that she loved the most.  It was that laugh that made her laugh too, usually.  It was that laugh that brought tears to her eyes.  

What the fuck was he thinking? When was he going to learn? There were so many of these kinds of questions she wanted to ask, but did it matter? Did he ever really have to answer them?  It was always going to be different for him for so many reasons. The question was, did she want to stick it out and deal with it?  

This wasn’t the first time he had done something so irresponsible, so insensitive. She knew it wouldn’t be his last.  The problem was, he never seemed to understand why it was a problem.  Quite frankly, she tired of trying to be his teacher.

Just as she sat the headphones back on the desk, she heard the key in the front door lock.  She didn’t want to deal with him right now. She needed more time to digest everything before she talked to him, otherwise, this wasn’t going to be a productive conversation. 

Nia was not the type of person that liked to argue, let alone, have a conversation when she was angry.  Her words were always carefully weighed, and she very rarely said anything out of anger. Hurting someone’s feelings, being misunderstood, and saying something that she would later regret were things that she tried to avoid.  It wasn’t that she was non-confrontational, she was just reserved, that way.  She didn’t grow up in a house where people yelled or used words to hurt each other.  She didn’t believe in doing that, and she wasn’t going to bring that into her relationship, no matter how passionate Alex could get about a situation.  But the way she was feeling right now, all bets were off.  

“Hallo, Vlad.  Have you been a good boy?” She heard his voice from the hallway rise an entire octave as he addressed their 10-month-old Siberian husky.  She could tell by the way Vlad whined and his paws scratched against the hardwood floors that he was jumping on up Alex.  All of that money they were spending on dog training and Alex was still letting Vlad jump on him. Nia shook her head in irritation.  “I missed you, too, boy.  Where’s Mama, huh?” 

Nia remained frozen to the spot.  She did manage to reach for her vape, on her desk, and noticed how the muscles in her neck and shoulders shook with tension.  Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to unclench her jaw.  She just needed a few more minutes to herself.  If he could just go upstairs, or in another room and leave her alone, she would be able to talk to him about this later. But, knowing him, that wouldn’t happen. 

He would keep pushing and pushing until he found out what was wrong with her and before she knew it they would be in a fight.  A fight that she would be actively participating in.  

“Babe?” He called out, making his way across their loft.  His voice getting closer to her office door. “Hey, babe,” he awkwardly raised his hand in greeting, to accompany his words, followed by his thousand-watt smile. “I got us cheesecake from a new bakery.  Casper speaks highly of them.”

Nia looked at her boyfriend and she could feel the hot sting of tears forming at the back of her eyes. Immediately, she dropped her gaze, not wanting to address him or the situation at the moment.  She managed to nod slowly as she continued to work her now jagged cuticle.

To the rest of the world, Alex Høgh Andersen was the model, actor, and photographer that walked on water, ate bullets, and shit ice cream.  He was the sexy heartthrob that had over a million Instagram followers.  The guy that couldn’t post a picture of taking out the trash without it being sent over 5 continents and 35 countries in a matter of minutes.  He had over 2,000 fan sites, and countless fan fictions written about him…fans adored him the world over and he was only 25. He was fucking perfect.  

To Nia, he was just her Alex.  Her clumsy, silly boyfriend, who never put his clothes in the hamper and always left the toilet seat up.  He was the guy that loved to cook but never cleaned the dishes.  He was the one that was always singing or beat-boxing or banging on something trying to make music.  He was always tried to make people laugh.  He was loud, goofy, and drank too much. He smelled awful after a workout and had the messiest bed head when he let his hair grow.  He sometimes smacked when he chewed and always talked with his mouth full.  He was a clown, but he meant well.  He was sweet, and thoughtful and always treated her like she was the most important woman in the world.  

Nia never had one reason not to trust him...until now.

“Baby,” he took in the expression on her face and rounded the glass desk to where she was sitting.  Kneeling in front of her seat, he turned her swivel chair to face him and took her hands in his, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She raised her eyes wide and looked at a place on the bookshelf, right over his left ear. Refusing to look into those beautiful blue eyes of his and lose her train of thought.  She felt the sweat start at her top lip, something that always happened right before she was about to cry, but she fought the urge.  

“Alex,” she tried to keep her voice steady, but she was pumped full of adrenaline and emotion so it shook involuntarily, “what the fuck?” She pulled her hand from him and turned her laptop toward him.  Hitting the play button on the YouTube video again, she played the 13-second clip for him.  

Alex watched himself, drunk as hell, outside of a night club in Ireland with friends.  He asked his friend to do part of a skit from one of his favorite comedians.  He knew exactly what was on this clip.  He’d seen it, and still thought it was funny. “What’s wrong?”

Nia didn’t say anything, she just let the clip play.  Alex’s friend, Danny, this clout chasing, promoter fuck stood in the shot with him.  Out of Alex’s mouth came the line from Kevin Hart’s Seriously Funny Comedy routine, “Go night, night, nigga?”

He had said it low as if he was talking to Danny, asking him to perform the line from the stand-up.  So what does the little hanger on do?  Danny, who is black, does a really bad, really loud Kevin Hart impression for Alex and the camera, “Go night, night, Nigga!”  

Alex then comes back in the scene and repeats it and they all laugh because it’s so damn funny.  Alex disappears from the screen because he’s laughing so hard, but Danny is still there, shit-talking about having a big dick.  When Alex returns, the two of them end the video with a rousing chorus of “Alright, alright, alright…”  

She didn’t say anything to him, she just looked.  She searched his face for some sort of understanding, some kind of recognition. Something.  But when he turned back to face her and all she saw was confusion she felt her shoulders drop and the first fat tear roll down her face. “Wow.”

“Honey,” he lifted a brow, not quite sure what his crime was.  He knew she didn’t like Danny, but he hadn’t even seen him since he was in Ireland last.  It had to have been a few months. “This was months ago,” he reassured her, with his Danish accent punctuating his English words, “I know you think I drink too much and you don’t like to see me drunk.  It’s no good when it goes viral.  But, we were just fooling around.  It’s nothing to cry about.”  He cupped her cheek in his hand, hand brushed away her tear with his thumb.  His blue eyes moved swiftly between her brown orbs.  “Where did you even find this?”

“Your fucking manager sent it to me, Alex.  They want me to fix this shit.  I’m supposed to make all of this go away.  Me...your fucking black girlfriend - I have to make this racist bullshit you pulled go away.”  She should smack him.  She should.  It would be justified, right? “How in the fuck am I supposed to do that when you think being drunk was the fucking problem with this video?”    

“I’m not a racist,” he said with genuine shock, “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. You never do.” She got up from her chair, suddenly needing to distance herself from him.  “Why do I always have to be the one to educate you?  You are a grown man.  I shouldn’t have to explain this shit!  You DON’T get to say that word, Alex.  EVER.” She pointed a well-manicured finger in his direction, “It’s hurtful.  It’s hateful.  It’s ignorant.  And coming from YOU, it’s fucking devastating.” 

He was confused. What was she so upset about?  What exactly had he done wrong?  Turning around in his place, he slowly stood up and leaned against the desk.  Legs outstretched, arms folded across his chest in a defensive position he could tell that his girlfriend of three years was upset. Not just the regular run of the mill upset, either.  Something he had done had really bothered her.  

“Nia,” he breathed her name with a smirk on his face, “I think you’re making way bigger a deal of this than it is.  Danny was there, he didn’t care.  If I had said something bad, he would have told me.”  He pleaded with his face for her to trust him on this, it was all a misunderstanding.  “We were just joking. Besides, I didn’t say the bad word – the one with the other ending.  I changed it. We were just doing the part from the Kevin Hart comedy.” 

“Alex,” she straightened her posture and spoke very clearly so that he could understand her.  There was something in the way that he was dismissing what she had said to him that was really rubbing her the wrong fucking way, “You are not Kevin Hart.”  She did not crack a smile when he did.  She kept her face stoic and refused to drop his gaze.  “You are not black.  YOU don’t get to use that word, or any variation, thereof.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex relaxed his posture and lifted his face toward the ceiling. Is this what he came home for?  He could have still been hanging out with his friends for all this.  At least they wanted to have fun tonight.  It was a Friday for crying out loud, was this how they were going to start their weekend?  It was the first one in months that neither of them had to work.  They had been planning this weekend for forever, it seemed. They were supposed to be Netflix & chilling, drinking wine, having breakfast in bed…nowhere in their itinerary were they supposed to be fighting over a stupid joke.  

Alex’s hand covered most of his face, as he rubbed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts. He didn’t want to argue.  He wanted to change out of his hoodie and jeans, and get into some comfortable sweats.  He wanted to feed Vlad and cook dinner with her.  He wanted to eat in front of the TV while they caught up on this season of How to Get Away with Murder, which they promised each other not to watch until they were together.  “Jesus, Nia, why do you always blow things out of proportion?”

“Why do I.. I’m sorry?  Do I always blow things out of proportion?  Really?” She looked around the room as if he were talking to someone else, “Are you fucking shitting me, right now? Blowing shit out of proportion?  Why do you always have to be such an insensitive prick?”  She watched as he threw up his hands and walked out of the room mumbling under his breath.  “Yeah, say that shit in English, Alex, since you have such a grasp of the fucking language.” 

God, she was doing it.  She was doing everything that she never wanted to do when she argued.  She was speaking out of anger.  She losing the point.  She didn’t have one anymore, she was just mad. “Really…I don’t know who the fuck you think you playing with, but I am not the one.”  

Taking off his jacket and throwing it on the couch, Alex turned around to face his girlfriend.  He paid particular attention to the way her chest rose and fell when she was heated like this. He had always thought she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, but now her anger didn’t match her beauty. “I don’t know what your problem is, Nia, or what you think I did, but I told you, it was a joke.  All of this, it’s not fair to take it out on me.  You owe me an apology for starting on me for no reason when I just walked in the house.”  

He flopped down on the couch and leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose.  He could feel a headache beginning right between his eyes and he knew it was from tension. 

“What part of this don’t you understand?  You offended me. You offended black and brown people all over the fucking world, thanks to YouTube.  I don’t have to apologize for shit.  You and your little fucking troll friend need to be apologizing!” She started walking around in a circle, she felt just that crazy at the moment. 

Nia looked over at the corner to Vlad.  His blue eye and brown eye lowered to the floor in sadness, as his parent argued. Her heart broke for their baby, but it couldn’t be helped. “Obviously your manager thinks this is a big fucking deal if they sent this shit to be fixed.  Alex, you can’t go around offending people.  You are in the public eye, whether you want to be or not. You have fans that are from every walk of life - do you know how many of them you just insulted? You need to be more responsible for your actions and the shit that comes out of your mouth.”  

“Nia, I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.  I hear that word a hundred times a day. It’s not a problem.  It’s in every song. It’s on American TV…Danny and your brother-in-law call me that all the time.  I’m not a racist.  I’m in love with a black woman.”  He found himself raising his voice because no matter what he was saying, she didn’t seem like she was understanding, “One time,” he held his finger up to emphasize his point, “I do a part from a comedy that I like, with my black friend, and you lose your damn mind.”  

“What the fuck, yo?” Was she going crazy? She tried to inhale clean air, and exhale the poison before she spoke, however, it wasn’t helping.  All she could do was rub her temples. “Danish, American...it doesn’t fucking matter does it?”

“What doesn’t?”   

“Your privilege?” She rubbed her temples slowly and tried to crack her neck. “I’m gonna say this real slow so you can translate it into whatever the fuck language you need to understand it.  I don’t care how much trap music you listen to. You don’t get to say that word. I don’t care if you know the words to every Kendrick Lamar song.  You don’t get to say that word.  I don’t care how many black friends you have. You don’t say that word.  I don’t care what my brother-in-law calls you, or me, or the man in the moon.  You don’t say that word.”  

She got closer to the couch and bend down so that he could hear her.  Barely opening her teeth to speak, she made her point crystal clear, “And I certainly don’t care if you are fucking me or a 100 other black girls, it doesn’t make you black.  You still don’t get to say that word!”

“Oh my God, Nia! It’s a fucking word.”

Was she talking to herself?  Was he that clueless?  Where there no words in Danish that meant anything like it?  They had racism all over the world, surely there was a word in his language that used to oppress another culture to the effect that that word had been used to tear down black people, but black Americans especially.  Nia didn’t know what it meant to other black people, she could only tell him what it meant to her.  

“Do you know what’s like to have no identity, Alex?  Do you know what it’s like to still be referred to as the term they used when they listed you in catalogs to be bought and sold like an animal?  It was no different than saying the word ‘cow’ – it was a word to describe cattle. That’s what an entire country thought of people that look like me.  For no other reason than the color of my skin.”  She couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in her eyes.  She was so beyond mad that her voice was eerily quiet.  “Those people didn’t do anything to deserve it.  They were just born next to the equator.” She shrugged her shoulders in defeat.

“That word stripped men of their role in the family and made some impotent and others were turned into bucks that were only good for breeding…it broke them. It made women broodmares, whose job was to have babies to keep plantations going.  Families were sold apart no different than how Vlad was taken from his mother because he’s a dog.” She pointed to their puppy hoping that he would understand, “They thought it was okay to do that to my ancestors because of that word. Alex, I don’t care how much you hear that word. When you say it, that’s what it feels like to me. That I don’t exist.  That Nia doesn’t exist. That I’m no different than Vlad. But, here’s the rub - in all the time we’ve had him I have never once heard you refer to him as a dog.  But now you used the word nigga, and you think it’s funny.  So, I have to wonder now, how do you describe me?”

He was dumbstruck. 

He didn’t mean any of that when he said it.  It was a joke.  It was an homage to Kevin Hart.  It was fucking funny.  He understood that she was hurt, but he didn’t quite get why she was hurting. “I see that this hurt you. I’m sorry about that.  It was not my intention.”  He reached out to touch her and retrieved his hand when she pulled away, “If it was wrong, why didn’t Danny correct me?”

“That little fucker?” God, she hated him.  “Because he set your ass up and you’re too fucking stupid to know it.”  She didn’t mean that.  She didn’t want to hurt him just because he had hurt her.  But she was tired of telling him the same thing over and over again. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that little bastard is not your friend?  Do you remember how we met?  The drunken video he posted of you doing the Haka dance that ended up all over the internet? Do you remember how I had to spin that shit to save your career?”  She rolled her eyes and stood up from the couch. “Whenever you pop a bottle, that little clout chaser is always right there with a fucking camera.”  

“He’s not like that, he’s my friend.”

“He set your ass up! It’s a game, Alex!  Black guys play it all the time.  See if you can make your white friend say the word. Only, I’m surprised he didn’t punch you in the mouth afterward.  Cause that’s what they’d’ve done in the States.  But maybe things worked differently in Ireland.”  

“Whatever,” Letting out a frustrated sigh, Alex resigned.  

“Right. Whatever.” Walking back into her office, she slammed the lid closed on her laptop before throwing it and a few files into her work bag. “Un-fuckin-believable.”  She left out of the office and sat her bag on the floor by the door before she walked across the hardwood floors towards the stairs. “Move, Vlad,” she said lovingly rubbing her big four-legged baby on the head.  

Vlad made no intention of moving as if he was purposely trying to stop her from ascending the stairs.  Instead, the dog looked at her, then back at Alex, before turning his gaze back at her. “Vladimir, honey, I need you to move.” She watched as her 50-pound defiant child laid on the bottom step and put his brown and white head on his paws. “Fine,” she said, skipping a step to climb over him and made her way up the rest of the stairs, rolling her eyes when the dog followed behind her.

Alex followed behind them and stood in the doorway of their bedroom watching as grabbed a handful of items; a t-shirt, toothbrush, and hair scarf. This entire argument had been blown way out of proportion. Now she was leaving?  “Baby, where you going?”

“Away from you.”

Tags:   @oddsnendsfanfics​​  @a-mess-of-fandoms​​​ @waiting4inspiration​ @simsadventures​​ @chipster-21​​  @tgrrose​​  @alicedopey​​   @thelastemzy​​​  @naaladareia​​ @alexa4040​​ @absolutelynotanidiot​​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​​ @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​​ @skadithegoddess​​   @geekandbooknerd​​​ @dreamlesswonder86​​ @inforapound​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @cruelfvckingsummer​​ @mummybear​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​​ @honestsycrets​ @jzr201​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @ivarthebloodyking​

[underatedcharactersunite]

Love is Blind

Summary: You and Evan had an agreement, friends with benefits and no strings attached. Yet soon enough, lines get blurred, and it's going to take a string of revelations to make you both realise that.  Song Prompt; I’m crying because I love you by Lizzo  Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley x Female Reader  WordCount: 1,501 Warnings; NSFW themes, Strong Language, Two idiots in total denial.  A/N; For @shannygoatgruff Birthday Celebration! Happy Birthday!! 

When the Tsunami shattered onto the shore, it left tragedy in its wake. People's homes destroyed and unliveable. Many lost their lives to the ocean. Those who survived were left to cope with the trauma they'd experienced.

That was the first night you slept with Evan. The two of you never intended it to happen. One moment the two of you were consoling each other. The next, you were tearing each other's clothes off like rabid animals. Teeth clashing, hearts pumping as both of you latched onto each other.

As Evan sunk into you, everything else ceased to exist. It was intoxicating, passionate and mind-blowing. Your bodies synchronised with one another as both of you moulded together, creating a unique rhythm. As you chased each other's releases, your eyes meet. Unbeknownst to you both, something changed that night.

From that night onwards, you both decided on an agreement. Both of you used each other for sexual desires and letting off steam. For months afterwards, the arrangement worked perfectly. You would head over to whoever's house was closest. Other times, you couldn't even make it to one of your respective houses, sometimes it was your cars. Wherever you could, the two of you were tearing each other's clothes away from the other body.

However, the longer things progressed, the lines begin to blur. Suddenly the two of you were spending nights together, making breakfast together, driving to work together. Yet neither of you appeared to mind. Now your heart fluttered whenever Evan was close. You were falling for him, and you didn't know what to.

Things only got worse when you received an invite to your cousin's wedding, the invitation was beautiful, but you couldn't ignore the several lines highlighted; Bring a plus one. You disregarded the invitation for several days. At first, you thought to ask Eddie, but he was already attending the wedding. This left you with one option; Evan.

After returning from your recent call, you settled now would be the most appropriate time to ask him. You inhaled and exhaled. It was now or never. Gathering all of the courage you could summon, you strolled over to Evan.

“Hey Buck,"

"Hey, Beautiful are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. I was just wondering if I could ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course, what's up?"

"My cousin invited me to her wedding, and I've been told to bring a plus one. Do you fancy coming with me? Eddie and Christopher are going too."

"Yeah, I'd love to. Just tell me what colour you're wearing, and I'll match you. We can go shopping and buy your cousin a wedding gift too if you like."

With a plan now in place, you heard Chimney calling your name, so you bide your goodbye as you jogged over in Chimney's direction.

Evan watched you leave, beaming. Turning to get back to what he was doing, he almost collided with Eddie. Eddie's eyebrow cocked as Evan looked at him sceptically.

"When are you going to tell her?"

"Tell her what? I don't know what you're talking about."  

"Come on Buck. You're in love with her. We all know it. And she's in love with you too. So why don't you tell her."

"I'm not in love with her. It's just a casual arrangement, nothing more, nothing less. I don't know where you're getting any of this. Can you drop it?"

"No, I'm not going to drop it. Buck, the sooner you tell her, the better everything is going to be. Trust me. Then we don't have to endure you both pining over each other."

"I'm not pining over her! Can't two people just have sex without getting attached!" Evan exclaimed. He didn't want to continue this conversation. Everything that Eddie was saying wasn't true. He didn't love her, and why would she ever consider him like that.

"You keep telling yourself that, Buck, at some point. It's going to hit you that she's all that you want. You need to realise that before it's too late."

                               »»————-　♡　————-««

Never been in love before What are the fuck are fucking feelings, yo? Once upon a time, I was a ho Got you something from the liquor store Little bit of Lizzo and some Mo Trying open up a little mo’ Sorry if my heart a little slow

Evan laid in bed staring up at the blank white ceiling. After his conversation with Eddie, he hadn't been able to think of anything else. Maybe Eddie was right. Maybe he did love you. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more he understood he couldn't live a life without you in it.

There was just something about you he couldn't shake. It was the way your smile illuminated an entire room or how you go above and beyond to help everyone you can. You were entirely selfless and kind and beautiful. Evan couldn't get out of his mind how gorgeous you were. Especially first thing in the morning when you awoke for the day. No makeup, just sunrise to cast a glow on your beauty.

That's when it dawned on him. Eddie was right. Evan was in love with you. Strongly and madly in love with you, and he doubted that was going to change anytime soon. So now, what was he supposed to do? He couldn't tell you because that would destroy everything. Evan tossed and turned that night, unable to sleep. Only you could provide him with the reassurance he so desperately needed.

I thought I didn’t care I thought I was love inpaired But Baby, Baby,  I don’t know what I’m gonna do I’m cryin’ cause I love you, oh Yes, you, (Ya, ya, ya,ya)

Evan got that, in a way. After a night of passionate love-making, you'd laid there panting heavily as you desperately attempted to catch your breaths. Evan opened up his arm as you laid your head against his chest. Evan used the opportunity to wrap his arms around you tightly.

"Do you like it when we get to cuddle like this? Or is it too much?" Evan saw you sit up looking confused even he could admit that the question was spontaneous.

"No, why, do you? We can stop if you want to." Evan sat up, joining you. Turning to look at you, he wanted to tell you how he felt, but he just couldn't find the words too.

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable."

"Evan, I'm never uncomfortable around you, you make me feel safe." Evan couldn't hide the smile that your words brought onto his face.

"I'm glad because you make me feel safe too." Evan outstretched his arm, and without hesitation, you moved back into his arms, pressing a kiss onto his chest.

"So tell me about your family? What do I need to know." You begin to tell Evan about your family. All of the people who could potentially be there, family feuds, who are more likely to ask him to dance with them. Despite your warnings, Evan was looking forward to getting to know your family.

Got me standing in the rain  Gotta get my hair pressed again I wouldn’t do it for you all, my friend Ready, Baby. Will you be my man? Wanna put me on a plane Fly you on the low, I was ashamed  Now I’m crazy ‘bout to tat your name. 

Your cousin's wedding was beautiful. She looked stunning. The ceremony was a romance lovers dream. One day, you hoped your wedding would be this romantic. The only thing that appeared to place a damper on the day was the thunderstorm currently raging outside.

None of that mattered though, since the reception had gotten underway, you'd observed Evan interacted with your family. They seemed to adore him. A couple of your Auntie's had given you a thumbs up and compliments of approval.

As you sat back and watched Evan interact with one of your Uncles, your heart fluttered. That was until a shadow blocked your view.

"Hey there, would you like to dance?" As you glanced at the stranger, you vaguely remembered him as being the best man. Accepting his hand, the two of you wandered over to the dancefloor. Slowly, the two of you began to dance, yet while the man was perfectly handsome, it just didn't feel right.

As if instinct took over, you turned to meet eyes with Evan who was currently standing in the middle of the room. Suddenly, he was walking away from the scene laid out in front of him. You analysed the emotion, which appeared to be heartbreak.

You quickly excused yourself and chased after him. Following him down a long staircase, leading directly to the thunderstorm pouring outside, you called for Evan.

"Evan Buckley, would you stop?" You yelled. Eventually, he stopped the rain pouring on top of both of you.

"Just go back to the wedding, your dance partner is waiting for you."

"What? That doesn't matter. You are what's important to me right now."

"Stop. Stop saying things like that. Can't you see that I love you? And each time you say something like that, it gives me hope that we could be something."

"And you think I don't love you too"

"Wait, seriously," Evan couldn't stop the smile returning to his face as he crossed the distance between you, cupping your face in his hands.

"Yeah, seriously." Evan leaned in and kissed you, wrapping his arms around your waist he brings you closer, so there's no gap between you.

"Be mine" You nodded vigorously, Evan leaned down to kiss you again. However, unbeknownst to you, the two of you were being watched.

"Thanks, Buddy, a little jealous was bound to bring them together." Eddie paid the best man, who gladly accepted. Nudging the guy, the two of them walked back inside to give you some privacy.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Prologue - Part I

Banner by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria too. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won’t mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fairy tale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 684

Additional note: I had a weird idea for the setup of this story and you're about to find out. I hope you like it.

If you're visually impaired and have trouble reading the prologue, please, let me know, and I'll figure something out (meaning, I'll send you a Word file 😉)

And now... Enjoy 🙂 (hopefully)

Click on the moodboards to see them in better quality!

Moodboards by @vikingstrash

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog

[inforapound]

Starting this because why not?

I feel good about my life choices here.

Tagging @naaladareia @lordsexmachine @youbloodymadgenius @geekandbooknerd @hecohansen31 @pokeasleepingsmaug @ivarinleatherpants @maggiescarborough @zuxiezendler @gearhead66 @p8tn0lish @saldelys @shannygoatgruff @xbellaxcarolinax

[naaladareias-fic-reblogs]

Sideblog for reblogging fanfics and other creative content

Hello everyone!

I decided to start this sideblog @naaladareias-fic-reblogs only for fanfiction reblogs, also other creative content. It will be mainly Vikings fandom but occasionally other fandoms too. Let's see how it works. 😄 

I'll also keep reblogging fics and other creative content on my main blog @naaladareia but here I want to reblog things right after being online to help spread fics and content, because I often need a while to read and comment with job keeping me busy and reading & commenting in a foreign language needs a bit of time. 🤗 (So forgive me for reblogging here without commenting.)

Please support our writers and content creators with feedback and reblogs. 🌹

I tag folks who might be interested. (Only for this announcement)

@alicedopey @ceridwenofwales @gearhead66 @inforapound @whenimaunicorn @peaceisadirtyword @rabeccablake @therealcalicali @funmadnessandbadassvikings   @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen @edythofhastings @lol-haha-joke @isthat-tyra98 @flowers-in-your-hayr @lisinfleur @readsalot73 @tephi101 @artemiseamoon @msmorganforever    @lordsexmachine @sconniebelle @geekandbooknerd @saldelys @moonlightsspirit @mdlady @maggiescarborough @nukyster-blog @charming-merlin @fandomfic-galore @punkrocknpearls @pomegranates-and-blood @liquidgirl13  @adrikamoon @oddsnendsfanfics @blk-glitter-girl @honestsycrets @laketaj24 @imgoldielikehawn @mrsaugustwalker @mrsalwayswrite @mighty-ragnarssons @its--fandom--darling @katfett @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @ofmanderley @disasterofastory @tvseriesimagine @ritual-unions-gotme @shannygoatgruff @istorkyou

[conaionaru]

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Across the ocean

Synopsis: The Great Heathen army gathers to avenge Ragnar Lothbrok while Vanya continues to undermine Lagertha

Warnings: angst, talk of revenge, talk of murder, mentions of death, power couple Ivar x Vanya

Tags:

@xbellaxcarolinax @queenbeeta @thereareendlessopportunities @chynagirl13 @astridbaby @heavenly1927 @buckysjuicyplums @youbloodymadgenius @didiintheblog @lol-haha-joke @shannygoatgruff @xvxcarolinexvx  @stepintothelightz

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it. If you want to be tagged please write me<3

As a part of the royal family, one of the many lessons you get taught is politics—especially the art of strategy and revenge. As a woman, Vanya wasn't taught these things. It wasn't allowed for her to read, write or learn how to rule - those were the man's, king's, jobs. Her job, on the other hand, was to breed and bear children. Raising them fell to the maids.

But Siflæd was stubborn and hard to please when she was angry. After her marriage with Osmond started falling apart, she persisted that her daughter should be educated. Osmond agreed, thinking Vanya would fail, but she didn't. So he pushed for the little princess to learn languages, politics, and royal affairs just like Silas.

He saw potential where there should be none. After all, it was unheard of for a woman to know these things. Only men and witches held such knowledge; the latter died for them. So Vanya's intellect was kept a secret. 

Osmond taught her and Silas all he knew of these affairs. His favorite was ethical riddles. Vanya was a master at those. The art of making a fast choice that affected the kingdom was second nature to her. Other than Silas, who chose without thinking to impress his father and sometimes made the wrong choice. 

"The opposing kingdom captured your consort and killed them to gain control over you. What do you do?"

"Declare war," Silas answered without hesitation while Vanya frowned. The choice was the most obvious one. But it left an uneasy feeling behind.

"That's right. A blood debt must be paid in blood. Violence may breed violence, but your enemy hit you in your weak spot and declared war themselves. All you are doing is paying back the favor a thousandfold."

On the horizon, Vanya could see countless ships nearing Kattegat's shores. Vikings from near and far gathering to avenge Ragnar Lothbrok. It made her wonder if people held the same kind of loyalty to Osmond or even Silas. Ragnar left years after butchering hundreds in a chase for power and fame, which isn't so far from Silas's story. Guess the Viking was just more charismatic. 

Her husband sat next to her on the pier, watching the nearing ships with a glint in his eyes. He was excited for the fights to come, and his joy was contagious. Aros sat in his lap giggling while waving his little arms at the pretty ships. Not as pretty as the ones Floki makes, of course. 

Ivar loved to cradle the young boy close. He feared Aros wouldn't know how to walk. He walked perfectly fine and sped by them, squealing in delight. But walking or even standing was too hard. He kept falling back down, his legs too weak to hold him. The more time passed, the more worried Ivar became that he inherited his broken legs. Vanya prayed that Aros would run up to them one day and ease their worries.

Aros babbled happily and looked at the person approaching them on the docks. It was Ubbe clad in a fur cloak. The oldest Ragnarsson threw his furs over Ivar's head to distract both son and father from the incoming ships. "Our first arrivals, huh?"

"For the greatest army ever assembled," Ivar said excitedly, Aros clapping in joy to support his family's bright future ahead. 

"And they will be our instruments."

"Our instruments of wrath." Ivar let out a little mad giggle with the twinkle in his eye that Vanya learned to love. "Are you really going to allow Lagertha to escape her punishment? Hmm?" 

"No." 

"We must have revenge." 

"Yes." 

"And sooner rather than later. Why are we waiting?" Instead of answering the question, he looked at Vanya.

"No fear yet, sister?" Ubbe asked, looking at the quiet ginger standing next to Ivar in a white dress. 

The older Ragnarsson draped his fur coat over her as Vanya shook her head. "Just planning. In the North, you wage wars; in the South, we do things our way."

"Like what?" Ivar questioned his wife, a curious look on his handsome face. Vanya was scheming, and he liked this new side of her. Maybe he may be pulling her down a dark path, as Sigurd said, but it made her more alluring than before. She turned from a fearful girl afraid of him to this strong woman capable of standing up for herself and what she believed in. Her love and support after Aslaug's death was a much-needed comfort that he was more than thankful for.

"Striking when you least expect it in an unexpected way. The Gods are watching every move we make and judge every decision. We will all get what we deserve."

Ubbe grimaced at her dark words. He couched down a bit and bumped shoulders with Vanya. "And what do we deserve, huh?"

Vanya snapped out of her daze and smiled at Ubbe in her usual manner. "To win and live happily till we die, of course." Ivar chuckled and pulled her to his side.

Hoenir stood up from the bed and tied up his breeches, glaring at his shaking hands. "You know all that talk of missing me, and yet you leave as you hate me."

"I do. You are annoying." Hoenir huffed weakly, glaring at the grinning Viking in his bed.

"You seemed to like me last night. If I remember, you said-"

"That is enough."

Leifr rolled his eyes at the paranoid seer. "How did you escape your chain today anyway? Bit your leg off?"

"I can leave when I please. My duty to Vanya was my choice."

"You think that, or did she tell you that? Or was it the cripple? You aren't free, Hoenir. You think you are, but the moment you decide to leave for good..."

Hoenir shook his head and pulled the rest of his clothes on. "The gods sent me here to protect her."

"And how was it your choice then?"

He kneeled on the bed and pulled his closer by the little beard that he began to grow out. "I could have run from that vision and ignore them. Hope that she drowns like she was meant to. But she crawled out of those freezing water a worthy charge. I know I can't change your mind about her, but you don't know her as I do."

"I wish one day you will defend me with the same kind of fashion."

Hoenir frowned at his lover's bittersweet smile and kissed him to shut him up. He pulled back and slowly opened his eyes to lock eyes with Leifr's shocked ones. Never before had he made the first move.

"I am changing. People used to hate me, so I hated them. It was easier to be silent and pretend I didn't exist than to share my every thought. I am the person I am today cause of Vanya and the Ragnarssons. You wouldn't have liked the person I was three years ago. The things I did to stay alive turned me into a dishonorable man."

"Fuck honor," Leifr whispered against Hoenir's lips and smirked at the flustered seer.

"As you wish."

Vanya walked the hall with grace and pride. Once upon a time, before she even knew what the Viking gods were, she walked them lost and weak—scared of every shadow and sound. Now she felt as if she belonged here. 

Surrounded by bloodthirsty barbarians, she felt safer than she ever did at court. She embraced the gods, and in return, they blessed her not only with a son but also a destiny. “The Bleeding Star will break the night. She will bring the dawn. But the Gods demand a sacrifice in return. You will pay in blood for happiness.”

Ragnar's death, Lagertha's return, Aslaug's murder. All were events with catastrophes in the making; she could feel it in her bones. In time, the boys will avenge Ragnar, Lagertha will die, and Aslaug will rest in peace. The only problem would be Bjorn; the stubborn man was too attached to his mother, and he would do anything to stop them from bringing her to justice. Well, that's a problem for another time.

Vanya smiled at the drunk, dancing Norsemen around her. The atmosphere was light, and the ginger reveled in it. "Princess Vanya." A voice sang behind her, and there stood Astrid grinning like a fox. 

"Astrid. Shouldn't you be with Lagertha?" 

"She is safe."

Vanya smiled at her, mischief shining in her eyes, and it made the shieldmaiden uneasy. The Word was that Vanya was shy and secluded. Yet now, she pranced around in a revealing red dress stealing everyone's eyes and smiling at them in return. She was playing a dangerous game, striving too high for a seventeen-year-old. 

"Is that code for she sent you to fetch me?"

"I only came to chat. Lagertha originally asked Torvi, but I thought that you wouldn't be too happy about that because of what happened to your bodyguard."

Vanya scoffed at the remark. "Hoenir is my friend, not my bodyguard."

"But he protects you, no? And he said it himself that it was his duty to protect you."

"And how do you know that?" The ginger raised an eyebrow ignoring the leering eyes of the group of bypassing Vikings. "You weren't here when he arrived."

"Word gets around. Especially when a pregnant girl returns from the dead."

"I never died."

Astrid nodded and offered her a drink. Vanya took it suspiciously and sniffed it. "I didn't poison it. I am simply trying to repair the wench you threw between you and Lagertha, and it is in everyone's best interest."

"Lagertha threw that wrench when she murdered Aslaug in cold blood." Vanya hissed angrily, clenching the cup in a death grip. "People may worship her, you included. But I don't. And I never will. All I see when I look at her is that arrow in Aslaug's back before she dropped down to the ground, dead! I see Hoenir beaten and near death after her shieldmaidens brutalized him. All Lagertha bought me was blood and grief, and I will never forgive her for that."

Astrid pursed her lips and smiled at Vanya sadly. "You are young, Vanya. The world is filled with death and grief, and anyone who says something different is lying. We lie to the children to keep them happy. You are not a child anymore; it's time you learn the ways of the world."

The words made her pause. What the hell was that supposed to mean? That Lagertha did her a favor of killing Aslaug? That the brothers should kiss her feet for making them orphans? 

"Where I come from, people lie constantly. For example...." Vanya leaned closer to Astrid and whispered into her ear. "Lagertha keeps herself surrounded by women and weapons to feel protected, yet she has no problem sending you off into a crowd unguarded. She must truly care for you."

"She knows that I can fight, unlike you."

"Is there a problem?" Ubbe's voice broke the duo from their staring match. 

"Not at all." Both women answered before turning away from each other and stalking off. 

Ubbe jogged up to the redhead and looked down at her, worried. "What did she say?"

"She is playing mediator between Lagertha and me." 

"How nice of her." 

Vanya stopped in her track and glared at him. "Why was there now sarcasm in that sentence? Please don't tell me you are sincere."

"I am not. I pity her for being Lagertha's lapdog and not realizing it. It's a cruel fate. Like growing crazy over something that might be impossible."

Vanya slammed the cup against his chest, some of the ale spilling onto the ground. "It is not impossible. Aslaug risked her life coming to Ragnar, heavily pregnant with you. She bled, screamed, and gave you life. She raised you and your brothers. You may say what you want, but she did all those things and loved you. I saw it, I know it, and so do you. So have the decency to honor her memory just like you are doing for Ragnar. A man who cheated on his wives, fought wars instead of raising his children till he finally left. He would have never returned if it wasn't for gathering people for his war. And you know it!"

"She got the proper burial."

"Cause I stirred up a fuss for it to happen. Aslaug got a queen's burial as she deserved. Thanks to the people and me. Not you, not Sigurd. You two were too busy locked in a shed after Margrethe was offered to you on a silver platter."

"Don't bring her into this. She is no longer a slave."

"And why is that? What are you planning to do? Pass her around and throw it in her face that she owes you your freedom?"

Ubbe shook his head. "She got the freedom to be free of Lagertha and her scheming ways."

Vanya nodded and scoffed sarcastically. "So Lagertha can't use her to track you anymore. Fraze it how you want, but Margrethe deserved better, and she deserves to be happy and safe with someone who loves her, not just her body."

She stalked off to find Ivar, who was hard to find in this mass of bodies. The more time passed, the rowdier the people got, and the stares got worse.

Vanya could pretend to be used to the hungry stares the men shot her way, but the truth was, no one dared to do that when she was with Ivar or the other Ragnarssons. Even when she walked with Aslaug or Hoenir, they averted their gazes.

Back in England, looking at strange women was a sin. Here is was a part of everyday habits; there was nothing odd in raping slaves. Raping a free woman was a crime. And Vanya was a free woman, but they were just looking. As long as the husbands didn't protect their honor, women were meant to endure. It sickened Vanya how she went from a timid young girl to a sex object.

Freedom as a Viking has its drawbacks, she may have gotten more rights as a Northwoman, but she was still a woman nonetheless. But this was for Aslaug. The Queen said that owning your beauty and being confident in your skin is the most important thing for a royal. Show there people that you know that you are more than a pretty face and sharp mind. Hide your insecurities and pretend that you don't have any.

Lagertha knew Vanya's weaknesses; it was better not to give her anymore. The thing that the blonde wasn't counting on was that Vanya knew her weaknesses in return. "Jarl Tollak."

The tall man looked down at her and smiled. His blonde hair was cut shorter than other Vikings wore, his white shirt already stained with grease and mead. "Princess Vanya. I have heard great things about you, and I am surprised you know my name."

"You were one of the first to offer your help when Bjorn gathered an army in case my brother waged war against us. I made a point in remembering each name of the brave men that offered their help. It is much easier to be thankful then."

Tollak smirked at her, mock bowing in front of her. "At your service, Princess."

Vanya giggled at the faked chivalry. Of course, she knew he wanted fame and Bjorn's favor. Also, a reason to kill too.  But to bring Lagertha down, she would need to gather her own army. She can't wait for the boys to assemble one, especially now that Ubbe has second thoughts.

"And how may I help you, now that you thanked me for only offering my help." Tollak pointed out, making Vanya smile at him teasingly.

"To keep the promise."

"Silas is dead."

"I never said he wasn't. But you promised to fight for me. Not for Ragnar Lothbrok, and I simply want to remind you of that promise. In case I will ever need protection."

Tollak took her by the elbow and led her away from the group of men he drank with. She could see Sigurd perk up from the corner of her eye, ready to jump in if needed. They stopped in a secluded corner of the hall, far away from curious ears. Leaning closer for her to hear better, he whispered in her ear. "Worried the Ragnarssons won't be enough? Or that they won't make it back?"

Vanya shook her head and frowned at the possibility. It didn't even occur to her that they might die in England. "I am more worried that you will go back on your word simply because there wasn't a fight for you last time."

"There was no fight at all."

"Not for you, maybe. I ran for my and my son's life right after giving birth. Let's not forget the days I spent pretending to be dead and staying alive simultaneously."

Tollak laughed at her sassy attitude. "Excuse my rudeness. I promised, didn't I? Whatever the cause, send for me, and my men and I will be at your service. Be it in England or... Kattegat." He gave her a knowing look and turned to leave. "It may bring me luck to help Frigg's ward. Or are you protected by Freyja? The claims seem to change so often."

"Keep your words, and you may find out." Vanya stalked off to Ubbe and Ivar, drinking side by side together. Maybe she will finally find out which god favored her too.

Before Vanya reached them, Ubbe walked away to talk to Margrethe.  So it was just Ivar and Vanya. "How is Aros?" She asked, smiling at her husband, who lit up at seeing her again. He went to check on their son a while back when the people's stares got too much. They didn't have much respect yet, but he was positive that it would change soon enough.

"Sleeping. He keeps biting the toy axe Floki made him." Vanya smiled at that and fixed a stray hair on his head. She liked this new hairstyle. His wife mentioned missing braiding Hvitserk's hair, so Ivar grew it out of jealousy. Now she just can't stop herself from touching it. The Ragnarsson liked the attention, and Vanya enjoyed the little smile it put on his face. So it was a win-win.

"I was worried that the commotion would keep him awake."

"He is a heavy sleeper. Like you."

Vanya glared at him halfheartedly and hit him over the shoulder lightly. "At least I don't drool in my sleep."

"I don't drool!" The defensiveness was just too cute on him.

"Sure, Elskling."

Vanya spotted Lagertha talking to Ubbe. The look she sent him before separating was strange. "I wonder what she wanted from him."

"To win him as an ally, of course. We both know that he is getting weaker."

"Ubbe would never join her. He hated her just like we do."

"I hope you are right." He leaned up against a chair and perched his head on his crossed forearms. Looking at Ubbe, who returned the look with one of his own.

Vanya searched the room with her eyes to find Hoenir standing near Sigurd with hard eyes. Her eyes then met Tollak's. She gave him a nod and jerked her head to the doors. He turned his head to see the doors being closed and locked. He smirked at the oncoming fight and subtly drew his dagger. Walking over to Torvi and Astrid with some of his men.

By the time people noticed that the exits were barricaded, it was too late. People that could interfere were held hostage with a dagged to their throat. Sigurd, sadly, included.

The people parted like the red sea for them. They created a corridor connecting Ubbe, Ivar, and Vanya to Lagertha. The youngest male made his way to Lagertha. He was stabbing his walking stakes into the ground, the thuds suggesting a threat.

Ubbe made his way behind him, a careful swagger in his step as he fingered the handle of his drawn axe. Vanya raised her head higher and glared the Queen down. Ivar suggested that she would wield a weapon too, but the notion was silly to her. She was no shieldmaiden. Despite that, she was given a dagger anyway, and it was more an accessory than a weapon thought.

Vanya drew the dagger from the leg slit of her dress. She pulled it from the sheath and trailed her soft fingers over the sharp edge, lightly pricking her pointer finger with the tip. But she stayed where she was, leaving the slow walk to the boys instead.

Lagertha stood from her falsely gained throne and stared the two Ragnarssons down with no remorse in her eyes. She murdered their mother, but to her, it was a necessary evil. She took the sword that was gifted to her this very night and walked to them, no fear in her eyes. She fought older and more experienced men than them and survived. What did she have to fear, prophecy or not?

Ubbe rounded behind her while Ivar readied himself to stab her and end it all. But before either got a cut in, the doors were kicked open. The hall turned to the intruder to meet the eyes of Bjorn Ironside.

"If you kill her, my brothers, you will have to kill me too." He walked into the hall as if he owned it. Vanya froze on her spot and glared at him, putting two and two together. He knew. The bastard must have known what she had planned. And he did nothing! He lived with Aslaug for years and let her die.

"Maybe we should."

"Shut up," Ubbe ordered, the axe now resting on his shoulder. He knew their moment was over, destroyed by the fleet returning, and never was he so angry that his brothers returned. "She killed our mother."

"I know. You want revenge. And so would I." No hint of remorse was visible on him. And to think Vanya trusted him once. "But more importantly, we have to avenge our father."

He looked down at Ivar and frowned. "That is why I came back." He pointed his axe at Ivar's throat. "And that is what we are going to do."

Lagertha dropped her sword, satisfied while Vanya rolled her eyes at their dramatics. There was still time. And they hadn't revealed all their allies just yet. Ivar growled at the butchered opportunity while Bjorn and Lagertha reunited.

With a scoff, Vanya stalked off, passing a grumpy Bjorn on her way. "Traitor." She whispered in passing, not missing the slight surprise in Bjorn's eyes.

Vanya walked around with Aros in her arms the next day, Hoenir following behind her, talking about England and its people. The seer wanted insight into the men he would be killing very soon. When she entered the hut, she smiled at Hvitserks frame by the fire with his brothers and Margrethe. 

"Well, you and I, Ubbe, we jumped under the ice because of her. So I don't quite agree that we should kill Lagertha because of it."

"Ivar thinks we should." 

"Ivar's crazy. You know that."

"And what am I?" Vanya asked, making them snap their head towards her. Hvitserk smiled and walked over to her. Hugging both mother and baby.

But Vanya didn't weaken her glare. "Answer my question. Am I crazy too?"

"You have a good heart, Vanya. That is all."

She shook her head and glared at them. Little Aros was joining her in her bad mood with a pout on his own. "Oh fuck the good heart and tender mind! I want justice! It is what she deserves."

"We talked about this." Ubbe reminded her while Vanya scoffed at his gentle tone.

"Oh, I remember our talk. And I remember my talk with the seer and Aslaug. I remember everything! Other than you! You claim to have loved her, yet you keep ignoring her in favor of a man who left you! All that talk of wanting to kill him, but now that he is dead, you want to avenge him? You are all weak."

"We are not weak!" Ubbe protested, walking over to her and taking her by the shoulders. Despite his angry look, his touch was soft. Like he was scared if he squeezed too hard, she would break like glass. "We simply see the reason that you nor Ivar can see. You are seeing this image of Mother that you created for yourself. Ignoring all the bad you heard of. "

Tears gathered in her eyes. "I slept by her side the night before Lagetha arrived." She spat out, shocking them all. "I saw her ask for safe passage. Right before that bitch shot her. You can preach that I am making her into some saint. But I fought to be by her side in her last moments. They held me back while she drew her last breath. I saw her corpse burn in those flames. I felt like I lost a Mother. So excuse me if I want to give her closure."

"Death is not gonna give it to her, Vanya," Ubbe whispered softly, wiping her tears with his thumb. "You are allowed to grieve but not like this. Don't lose yourself to this madness."

The Seer's words echoed around in her head. He also said that Ivar and Vanya both were lost in revenge. "Madness and love. Two sides of the same coin. Always spinning but doomed to fall. One day, you and Ivar will fall, as well. And never rise together again." And what will become of Aros then? An orphan?

"I am not lost. Just exhausted. And you being ... you, isn't helping at all." With that, she turned on her heel and left once again. Too tired, and she was so tired lately.

"I think she might have lost it." Sigurd whispered to the quiet room.

"It was bound to happen eventually. She married Ivar." Hvitserk replied, still watching the door that she left through. 

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Knew Him Well

Pairing: Hvitserk x Plus-size reader

Word Count: 2664

Warnings: Sexual themes

Summary: As a goddess, you knew everything about him.

Thanks to @shannygoatgruff for beta reading. 

Beautiful moodboard by @flowers-in-your-hayr​ 

AN: So I kinda broke my writers block with this one. This was a request I wrote for the lovely @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie as promised. It’s my first time writing for Hvitserk, but it’s entirely in the point of the reader. I really hope you like it 🥺❤️

As always, I tagged those who might be interested.

...

You knew him well.

You knew of his heart's desires, his pains, his joys, his failures. You knew his likes and dislikes, what he loved and what he did not.

Hvitserk was a simple mortal. He loved apples.

When you allowed the frozen rivers and skeleton trees to burst forth again with life, apples were among the first you pushed to grow ripe.

You watched him often in his youth.

He had small chubby hands then, always reaching up towards the skies. His tiny fingers would spread in futile attempts to snatch a bright red apple that hung just a few feet above him.

Usually, there was always someone to reach one for him. Sometimes it was Siggy, pushing herself on her toes to please the little prince with the sweet fruit. Sometimes it was Floki, the gangly man easily plucking two from a branch with a smile. And sometimes it was his mother whenever she decided to pay her second son some attention, her fox-like face pinching in concentration while deciding which apple would be best to eat.

This time, no one was around to help.

He pouted, baby arms crossed over his chest in discontent.

You remembered his green eyes, bright against his dirt-covered face from a morning of mischief with his brother.

You pitied him.

A simple wave of your hand and the tree suddenly shook its branches, dancing in the gentle wind. A perfect apple landed by his small feet. It was a deep shade of red, rich like blood.

You smiled at his sudden squeals of delight.

He reached for it in glee, hands clumsily wiping the dirt away before taking a hefty bite with tiny teeth. He chewed once, then twice before his curious eyes spotted you. He took a few steps forward, searching behind the large base of the tree for your figure.

He caught sight of you. Your eyes were an impossible hue and your skin glowed brighter than the sun.

A goddess.

But you disappeared as quickly as you came, the scent of wildflowers lingering in the breeze.

He was only five, not fully capable of understanding the memory, but he'd never forgotten it. And neither did you.

...

You knew him well.

You watched him grow more curious as the seasons changed, watched how his tiny hands were finally able to firmly grip a sword without it slipping from his fingers.

He was a man now, long-limbed and broad-shouldered. His hair had grown, always neatly braided down his back by serving girls. A lopsided grin hung from his lips at any given moment, his talented fingers dancing over the smooth skin of his many conquests. But his eyes remained the same, bright green against his pale skin.

He was a man with an appetite that craved for more than apples.

He craved women.

The finest mortal women of Midgard easily caught his eye. Thick or thin, willing or not, it did not matter to him.

But it mattered to you. A goddess.

The sound of your voice commanded the earth to bloom green after a long winter, and your golden apples fed the gods their eternal youth. Power sizzled through your fingertips like blazing fire and yet you were not immune to jealousy, a fault that all the gods have endured.

Envy was unknown to you. There was no reason to be acquainted. You had everything you could want: eternal youth, immortality, power. These things had been enough.

But it was the women he bedded that had your stomach churning and your lips set in a frown. The countless women sprawled under him, legs wrapped around his hips with toes curling in the air. You'd sneer, the smallest hints of rage filling you enough to create a spark.

You wanted to strip the earth bare, strip away the beauty held by the women that he chased. But you would not punish the earth, nor the women for the faults of one man. One mortal man.

Still, you were not angry with him.

When the mortals of Kattegat congregated on festival days building altars and sacrificing their animals to appease the gods during the summer solstice, he worshipped you, pouring rich cider over your altar and muttering the words he practiced with his queen mother.

Bless our trees heavy with a sweetness that bears us through the winter cold.

You listened to his prayers, and the Autumn harvest swelled with ripened apples before Skadi laid the first frosts of winter.

You continued to watch him.

He took to journeying across foreign seas for fame, riches, and more women. He was in his prime, his features blooming with youth that would never glow the same way again.

It saddened you.

...

"You know him well." The Allfather appeared beside you, his hoarse voice erupting from deep within his chest. His black cloak billowed like thick smoke from under him.

His presence used to startle you back when you were a younger goddess, unaware of his nature. Now you've grown used to his silent footfall.

"I do." You said, your throat tightening as you watched how Hvitserk suffered. “I admire him.”

The older god regarded you for a moment before peering down towards Midgard. He watched as the young man vomited over himself, shifting quickly to huddle into a corner. His hair, damp from the harsh rains, made his eyes appear wild, like a wounded beast caught in a trap.

"Admire his weakness?" The Allfather questioned.

"His strengths." You corrected, daring to glance at the king of the gods. He raised an ancient hand to stroke down the length of his graying beard. He did not miss the harshness in your tone as hidden as it was. You were as sharp as knives.

"He is a troubled mortal," was all he said.

"Wronged by his own brothers." You reasoned. It was no wonder Hvitserk turned to wild herbs for comfort.

"Indeed." He agreed, shifting his godly gaze back to you, the blue of his eye deeper than the oceans belonging to Ràn. "I had favored his father once. Perhaps there is a reason you favor his son." He spoke as if he knew of things that you did not know of. Perhaps he did.

You remained silent, not knowing much else to say.

"You want to go to him," The king of the gods knew. "So go."

You held your basket tightly in your hands, your knuckles turning white against your golden skin from the pressure. You had wanted to go to him for so long, only allowing yourself the one encounter so many years ago. Gods did not mingle with mortals often.

But you knew Hvitserk was delirious. He would think of your presence as nothing but a hallucination. It would have to do.

The Allfather chuckled, his hand outstretched expectantly. You quickly reached into your woven basket to place a golden apple in his cold palm, watching how his large fingers curled over it. It was not for him. He was king of the gods, he did not fret over youthfulness as his wife did.

"Please send Frigg my love." The words barely left your berry-colored lips before he disappeared.

You turned back towards Midgard. Hvitserk was now asleep, limbs twitching and eyes rolling under his dark lids.

You went to him.

...

You had grown bold.

You visited him on many nights, watching him sleep. Your hand would gently caress his cheeks, smoothing down the arch of his sweaty brows as he dreamed of countless horrors. The foul murder of a woman. The burning of another.

You pitied him.

His eyes would barely open, lashes splitting apart to gaze at you. But he could not see you, not truly. Still, you would smile at him, pushing his stringy locks away from his face, and he’d fall back into a fitful slumber. You’d kiss his skin and leave by dawn, your touch remaining on his skin like a whisper once he woke.

Hvitserk had recuperated under your godly touch after a few weeks, waning himself away from the wild herbs that destroyed his body and mind.

But he no longer searched the trees for your apples, nor did he pour golden cider over your altar. He did not burn offerings in your name, nor whisper his prayers. He was lost as if caught at sea in a raging storm. He did not know his purpose, and without purpose, he would achieve nothing.

He had been a berserker once, a powerful warrior in battle. He had much to be proud of. Now he was but a mere soul wandering Midgard like a ghost.

He no longer believed.

And you pitied him once more.

…

You visited him again. It would be the last time.

"I know you well." Your voice, so simple in the realm of the gods, was like a bird song in his ears.

Hvitserk gawked at you, mouth open like a fish in a clear stream. He jumped up, feet now planted firmly over the soft grass of his favorite meadow.

He was a bit older, though not by much. His eyes were not as bright as you had known them to be, a dull green that held countless stories. He kept his hair pulled back recently, tightly bound towards his nape with a leather band. His fine tunic hid the worst of the battle scars, thin lines of healed skin barely peeking through the collar. Signs of a warrior.

You smiled, taking a step towards him. You were not wearing any shoes, your toes digging into the familiar earth. Fresh regrowth and new flowers bloomed after your every step. He noticed.

His eyes took in your bare feet, traveling up the length of your thick calves, your curvaceous hips, and your large chest until finally settling on your eyes. He swallowed. They were an impossible hue.

"Who are you?" He squinted, though he did not know whether it was from the glare of the sun or your powerfully glowing skin. "A ghost?"

A chuckle bubbled past your lips as you reached into your basket full of ripe apples. You plucked the brightest one, tossing it to him. He caught it easily.

"My name is Idun." You answered with the name mortals had given you centuries ago.

Hvitserk silently inspected the apple in his calloused hands. It was a deep shade of red, rich like blood. The fruit was fragrant and smooth to the touch, his fingers carefully grazing over the delicate red skin. His eyes went back to you.

"I remember." He finally said, eyes twinkling as they did when he was a child. Those were the eyes you knew. “I remember you.” His voice held a note of recognition, his mind searching through the memories from long ago.

The blood-red apple at his feet and the glow of your skin. The hue of your eyes and the smell of wildflowers. He remembered.

"I've watched you your whole life," You told him, your thin dress billowing with the gentle breeze, "I have shared your joys and your pains, dear Hvitserk. You are not alone." The smile that stretched the corners of your mouth was a sad one, but he did not notice. All he could see was your ethereal beauty.

His lips moved as if to speak but he found himself stunned by the goddess before him.

“I came to spend the night with you if you desire it.” You offered your hand to him and he did not hesitate in taking it.

…

His hands worshiped you.

His fingers dug into your full hips tightly, enough to leave bruises if not for your godly resilience.

You moved above him, up and down, gently then rapidly, giving him exactly what he desired. You whispered in his ear of his successes, blessing him with the fruitful future he deserved.

His lips traced heat over your skin, tongue teasing the jewels that hung from your ears. His fingers lingered in the strands of your hair, holding you flush against him.

You loved him, you realized. You had for years.

But it could never be. Dawn would come and you’d swiftly make your way back to the realm of the gods, watching him once again from afar.

It would have to be enough.

He filled you, a guttural groan escaping his throat as he held you close. Your bountiful chest molded perfectly against him as he lowered you both over the warm furs. The signs of sleep passed over his eyes and a lazy smile curled on his lips.

Dawn arrived faster than you had hoped.

You peeled away from him, setting his arm over his lean stomach. You cast him one last look, admiring how the dying fire made his skin glow like a god, before disappearing.

The sun placed itself high in the sky when his eyes opened next. He shifted, his nose picking up the scent of wildflowers. He looked over his shoulder, hoping to find you beside him but was greatly disappointed. You had left at dawn as you said you would.

The furs were cold where you once were. His fingers reached out, searching for the warmth he knew would not be there. But there was something that caught his attention.

His fingers grazed against a smooth surface, hidden under the furs. He ripped them off, his eyes settling over the golden apple you left behind.

…

The summer solstice began.

Altars were built for the gods. Animals were sacrificed and offerings burned. The air was filled with the sweet scent of worship.

You watched Hvitserk at your altar pouring rich cider over the offerings burned in your name. He whispered his prayers again with hopeful fervor.

You smiled. He believed again.

…

An older woman wept beside a funeral pyre, the body of her deceased husband igniting under the heat of violent flames. The smoke rose, swiftly taking his soul into the afterlife. His son and daughter comfort their mother, tears slipping down their cheeks.

You pitied them. Perhaps you pitied yourself, too.

“He is dead?” The Allfather asked, peering down toward Midgard. It was a useless question. He was king of the gods, he knew all. His two ravens sat obediently on each of his shoulders, beady black eyes searching down below.

“Yes.” You said, your voice monotone. “He fell in battle.”

“He was a good mortal,” The king of the gods commented, “But a mortal, nonetheless.” Mortal. You could not keep Hvitserk from aging. Your golden apples were not made for human consumption.

“Yes.” You repeated, watching how high the smoke traveled from his pyre. You could nearly touch it if you stretched your arm out toward the skies.

“Hvitserk.” You heard his wife wail. The name would be a memory now. You would remember him in his best days, when he was in the prime of his youth, green eyes bright and a grin that could conquer all of Midgard.

You had almost forgotten the Allfather was beside you, his looming presence not enough to deter your attention away from the funeral. He placed his spindly fingers on your shoulder. It was the only comfort he could give.

“He will serve me well when the time comes.” He promised. His words did not lift your spirits. He gazed back towards the grave filled with riches befitting Hvitserk’s station. “You knew him well.” He added before he disappeared, his two ravens flying off to collect more knowledge in unknown places.

You peered down below again, your eyes catching sight of a familiar glint. Buried among gold and silver trinkets was your golden apple, shining fiercely despite the overcast day.

You did not think you could cry. Nothing had ever moved you to tears before. You felt a foreign prickling behind your eyes. Tears filled to the brim until you no longer had the strength to hold them back.  

Gold ran down your cheeks in painted streaks.

You knew him well.

...

@didiintheblog @a-mess-of-fandoms @leilabeaux @shannygoatgruff @inforapound @fuchsiagrasshopper @pomegranates-and-blood  @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @grimeundglow 

@doctorwhoandfairytaillover

[shannygoatgruff]

Genuine Happiness

Wishing you all something so awesome that it gives you a smile that touches your eyes!

@xbellaxcarolinax​

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Contending the Flame I

Author’s Note: So this is actually an older piece I wrote back in March but never posted until now. I’ve written 9 chapters for it already so I’ll try to edit and have those up as often as I can. First part is shorter, more of a prologue really, but it sets the tone for where this is headed.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 1187 Warnings: None yet

It was Ubbe who first found you the night when they had taken York. While his people hollered in celebration of their victory, he had taken to wandering the foreign city with the company of his heavy thoughts. Ivar was caught up in his own perceived glory, and Hvitserk was distracted by a shieldmaiden. Neither of them noticed the disappearance of their elder brother or they didn't care, and Ubbe couldn't summon up the disappointment that he should have felt.

Their father had been avenged, and now it seemed it was time for each son to carve out his own path. He wondered if he was headed in the wrong direction, and that it would lead to his death, just like Sigurd. Maybe that was a fate to befall everyone who crossed Ivar. His little brother had the favor of the Gods for now, but Ubbe knew they weren't smiling on the sons of Ragnar.

As he pondered the games the Gods played, his feet kicked up pebbles beneath his boots, and that was when he heard it. A hushed gasp from the shadows, but in the quiet streets, it might as well have been a scream. Ubbe's eyes sought fast the sound and found petrified eyes shielded behind a stack of barrels between two buildings.

"Oh no," he whispered, creeping closer as you backed yourself into the wall as if hoping the stone would swallow you up. He recognized that you were one of the Christian God's soft creatures, draped in white with only your face to be seen. You must have been fortunate enough to be away from the church at the time of their ransacking. Now that they had settled into the city, it seemed your luck had run out.

"I won't hurt you," Ubbe said, but there was no recognition of his words on your face. You did not speak the same tongue. He halted his advance and gestured to himself. "Ubbe."

Your legs gave out beneath you, and you landed on your backside, but your eyes never left his face. Again he tried to tell you his name, but the fear had taken ahold of you like gold does to a greedy man who covets treasure.

Ubbe held no love or understanding for the Christian God. The idea that theirs was the one true God and that every other deity was false was as strange to him as these streets he walked. But he thought about what his people had done at the church, what Ivar had done to the priest, and he feared for this young woman. It was likely you faced rape or death. Perhaps both.

"Ubbe."

He twisted around at the calling of his name close by. It was Hvitserk, finished early with his dalliance with the shieldmaiden. Either that or Ubbe had been away longer than he realized and others had begun to wonder about his absence. Trust his closer brother to come looking.

Ubbe cast one last look of pity at the nun before replying, "I'm here, brother."

Hvitserk turned the corner, the moonlight showing his smiling face. "There you are. We thought maybe a few stray Christians had gotten to you."

"I think they've cleared the city," Ubbe said, jutting his chin forward. "Most of them anyway."

Hvitserk frowned and peered around Ubbe to look at what he was indicating. "Well brother, I didn't think this sort of thing would interest you. What would Margrethe say?"

His brother was grinning now, and Ubbe knew he had to banish the thought. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it?"

"What do you think," said Ubbe.

Hvitserk lost any trace of humor in his eyes, and he swallowed thickly. "Ivar."

Ubbe made a sound of agreement, "You saw how he was today, what he did. Is this what we're doing now? What about our father's dream for our people?"

"I don't think Ivar cares about farming," said Hvitserk, his gaze trained on the woman. "Why not just kill her now? Better it be quick."

"I know, but something is telling me to save her. Perhaps the Gods, just as father spared Athelstan."

"From everything we heard about Athelstan, he sounded like more trouble for father than good," Hvitserk said, taking a step forward. "Besides, he had his uses because he could speak our language. She doesn't seem to understand us. Isn't that right, Christian girl?"

You muttered unintelligible words, hands shaking with fingers clasped tight around colorful beads. Ubbe realized you were speaking to your God.

"Bjorn said he grew to love Athelstan."

"Yes, and then he betrayed them by returning to his God," Hvitserk pointed out, forced to be the voice of reason. "And besides, do you imagine Ivar would ever grow to accept her, nevermind love her. He's like Floki."

"How did it become that we do everything to please Ivar?" Ubbe wondered aloud. He didn't expect Hvitserk to answer. They were both of the same minds. The delicate dance around Ivar had started after Sigurd.

"If you really want to save her, then make her your slave. She'll serve a son of Ragnar, that should be enough for most."

Hvitserk's idea was sound. It wasn't as if he could let you go, you would either be caught or not have the skills to survive long enough alone.

"I need to get her somewhere quiet. At least for tonight, she can sleep without knowing she is a slave," Ubbe said as he gestured for you to stand and follow him. 

When you didn't move, Hvitserk sighed and shoved past him. "We'll be at this all night."

As Hvitserk came towards you, the terror took over your face and your eyes grew wide. The moment he bent down and grabbed you by the arms, your open palm sailed through the air and struck him. He had managed to get you to your feet before stumbling back with a shout.

"Shit," Hvitserk cursed, scowling at you. "That hurt."

Ubbe grimaced at the angry red mark on his brother's face. "She had a cross in her hand."

Hvitserk rubbed at the sore spot before spitting on the ground at your feet. "Christian bitch."

You spat back the one word of English they could grasp, "Heathen."

"Good luck with this one, brother," Hvitserk started with a laugh. "I doubt she'll settle in as thrall like you're hoping, but she may make me favor a Christian yet."

Ubbe often reflected on Hvitserk's words that night. It probably would have been the easy choice to end your life by the blade, but it wouldn't have been the right one. He was no seer, and neither he nor his brothers had inherited their mother's gifts. But the Gods had wanted your life to remain on Midgard, and not cast to your pearl gated Heaven. Ubbe was the key to make that happen. 

Your first night with Vikings, you were their enemy. As Ubbe hid you away in secret, he tried once more to engage in communication with you. All he hoped for was for you to repeat his name back, or divulge your own. You never did.

@pomegranates-and-blood

@siren-queen03

@peachyboneless

@didiintheblog

@soleil-dor

@zuxiezendler

@pieces-by-me

@xbellaxcarolinax

@heavenly1927

@everyartistwas-firstanamateur

@youbloodymadgenius

@xceafh

@shannygoatgruff

@tgrrose

@1950schick

@castielsangelsx

[youbloodymadgenius]

fave vikings writers in the fandom? i need more blogs to follow

That’s a tough question, anon, our fandom is blessed with so many talented writers 🤩

And I already know that I will forget people. So if you're reading this, feel free to add to it!

My absolute fave is probably @pomegranates-and-blood . I’m in love with her writing, her stories and her sub!Ivar 😉 And let me tell you this: @mrsalwayswrite isn’t far behind. Her take on modern!Ivar is close to perfect.

I wouldn't miss for anything in the world the updates of @nukyster-blog , @jadelynlace , @zuxiezendler , @punkrocknpearls , @artemiseamoon , @pieces-by-me , @waiting4inspiration , @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie , @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom , @maggiescarborough , @we-are-only-halfway-home93

@inforapound , @shannygoatgruff , @tephi101 , @lol-haha-joke , @geekandbooknerd , @katfett , @xbellaxcarolinax , @whenimaunicorn , @rosepetals-flyingbirds , @conaionaru , @oddsnendsfanfics , @hecohansen31 , @simsadventures , @fuchsiagrasshopper , @lordoffiction , @fandomfic-galore are writing less these days - or aren’t writing anymore 😢, at least for Vikings - but their works are amazing.

@quantumlocked310 rarely writes for Ivar, but their Vikings masterlist is worth a look.

@ivarthebadbitch doesn’t write very often, but when they do, it’s amazing !

They’re some blogs that deserve more love: @the-girl-in-the-box and @niishiki for instance.

Obviously, the Vikings works of @therealcalicali , @lisinfleur , @honestsycrets , @laketaj24 , @peaceisadirtyword , @dreamwritesimagines can’t be missed.

And last but not least, we’ve been joined recently by many new skilled writers: @vikingstrash , @jackson--t , @vaire-gwir , @fandomficsnstuff , @grimeundglow , @dini73 , @ivarisms and I must say, I couldn’t be happier. Our fandom is still alive 🤩

Phew! I made it 😅

Hope you’re satisfied, dear anon, and once again I’d like to apologize to those I may have forgotten 😕

♥️

[nukyster-blog]

Hello dear people of tumblr aka viking fans. Ive been on hiatus for a few months due to some wonderful real life events. And now that I slowly am getting some 'me' timr again the writing itch is kicking in. I am working on part II of the 'Changing Course' saga:

ADRIFT: so as to float without being either moored or steered. "What if the Gods played Ivar the boneless a wild cart after all?"

I've managed to scribble down two chapters, updates will be painfully slow, but it'll be worth the wait. If you'd liked to be tagged, let me know :)

@youbloodymadgenius

@xbellaxcarolinax

@saldelys

 @shannygoatgruff

@pieces-by-me

@apenas-mais-uma-pessoa

@readsalot73

@lauraan182

@conaionaru

@sarahh-jane

@peachyboneless

@adhdnightmare

@khiraeth

[underatedcharactersunite]

Nat’s 626 Writing/Art Challenge

Recently I made it to 1,626 followers, and I've decided to celebrate this milestone with a Writing/Art Challenge, the theme; Disney.

Art Challenge Rules; 

❤Feel free to use any of the writing Prompts below to draw inspiration from.  ❤Any Character(s) or ships are welcome. ❤You can submit more than once piece of art if you’d like.  ❤You can pick any theme that you want.  ❤Please NO dark themes ❤Please tag me. ❤You can either submit it to me or use the #nats626artchallenge ❤Deadline - 25th October 2021 

Writing Challenge Rules; ✦Below the cut are 40 writing prompts. You may combine up to 3 prompts from any of the categories. ✦You MUST send an ask claiming the prompts you wish to use.  ✦The story has to be somewhat loosely based on the prompt(s) that you choose.  ✦Have fun with it, let your imagination run wild and have fun with it.  ✦You can pick any character from any fandom you like.  ✦All Genre’s are allowed; Fluff, Angst, Smut etc.  ✦If you write anything NSFW, you MUST be over 18. ✦Please NO Dark/ Non Con Fics please.  ✦Reader Inserts, OC’s and Poly fics, Ships are welcomed.   ✦If over 500 words, you MUST use a read more button.  ✦Please Tag me.  ✦Please use the tag #nats626writingchallenge ✦Deadline - 25th October 2021. However, if you need more time feel free to message me. 

Reblogs are welcomed! 

Below the cut are the writing Prompts;

Disney AU’s  ☀Beauty and the Beast AU  ☀Cinderella AU  ☀Princess and the Frog AU  ☀Hercules AU with @thegirlwhowritesfics​  ☀Sleeping Beauty AU  ☀Snow White and the seven Dwarfs AU ☀Alice in Wonderland AU  ☀Peter Pan AU  ☀Aladdin AU  ☀Tarzan AU 

Songs;   ♬Can you feel the love tonight - The Lion King  ♬Kiss the Girl - The Little Mermaid ♬A whole New World - Aladdin  ♬I Won’t Say I’m In Love - Hercules  ♬Gaston - Beauty And The Beast ♬Almost There - Princess And The Frog ♬When Will My Life Begin - Tangled  ♬Why Should I Worry - Oliver and Company ♬Reflection - Mulan  ♬Hakuna Matata - The Lion King 

Quotes; ♛”Because when I look at you, I can feel it. And I look at you and I’m home” Dory (Finding Nemo)  ♛“Love is putting someone else’s needs before yours” Olaf (Frozen) ♛”A true hero isn’t measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart” Hercules (Hercules) ♛”My dream wouldn’t be complete without you in it” Tiana (Princess and the Frog)  ♛”You’re mad. Bonkers. Off your head...but I’ll tell you a secret...some of the best people are.” Alice (Alice in Wonderland) ♛”Venture outside of your comfort zone. The rewards are worth it.” Rapunzel (Tangled) ♛When the world turns it’s back on you, you turn your back on the world.” Timon (The Lion King)  ♛You are braver than you believe, stranger than you seem and smarter than you think.” Christopher Robin (Winnie The Pooh) ♛”I have never felt this way about anyone. I wanna do something for her.” Beast (Beauty and the Beast) ♛”Ladies don’t start fights, but they can finish them” Marie (The Aristocats) 

Disney Clichés; ☽Love at First Sight ☽Looking to the stars for comfort @youbloodymadgenius with Ivar  ☽The Protagonist whose main flow is being awkward ☽A Princess who feels trapped ☽The odd couple hero's  ☽Badass Princess ☽Damsel in Distress ☽A loyal sidekick  ☽Magic ☽Transformation. 

Tagging those who may be interested, but no pressure to enter;  @youbloodymadgenius, @crowfootwrites, @blackgirlfandomwriter, @shannygoatgruff, @thegirlwhowritesfics @thewalkingdead-imagines @therealcalicali @angelreyesgirl @crimsonheart01, @crazzyimagines, @nev3rfound, 

[inforapound]

Don’t Be Afraid

I wrote this for @youbloodymadgenius. If we are forced to say goodbye to a character who brought us together, I felt we needed more. Thanks @honestsycrets for getting me the pic so fast. 

Warnings - Season 6B SPOILERS    Words - 400 (short drabble)

“Don’t be afraid,” he had said to the young soldier frozen before him, blade in hand and eyes full of fear.

“Not today, brother,” Hvitserk’s words rolled by, a plea from earlier that day, his final day as it would be, to walk among the living.

“Don’t be afraid,” the words flitted passed his ears as the blood at the back of his throat began to choke him.

“Don’t be afraid.”

As he searched the pain in Hvitserk’s eyes, the instinct to fight, the need for reputation released its hold and in that fleeting moment, he knew his fate was being realized.

“Don’t be afraid.”

The Gods had spoken and it would there, right there, on that gore soaked soil where his father had fallen with the parting words that had stoked Ivar’s fire.

“Don’t be afraid.”

As night filled his eyes and his lids fell closed, the cold in his limbs gave way to nothing, some sense of freedom that bled through, anchored only by his brother’s arms, their hands and fingers entwined.

“Don’t be afraid.”

A calm settled within, some wisdom that had been imparted on countess before him, that beyond that mist shrouded veil was peace, Valhalla, and this was all the life he was ever to have had.

“No one will ever forget Ivar the Boneless.”

No more war, no more scars, he was ready to make amends and face all those who had been bound to his pain, who had been apart of the journey that led him to that field, to his final moments of life.

“Don't be afraid, Ivar,” whispered someone beyond sight, the voice so familiar is spread warmth across his cool skin.

“You are Ivar the Boneless. Do not be afraid.”

As Hvitserk’s tears fell onto Ivar’s grime covered face, his broken, twisted bones eased as life made its retreat and with one last inhale, Ivar’s brilliant eyes shot wide and he gazed straight up into the clouds.

“I am not afraid.”

His bloodied lips pulled back into a sweet, sweet smile and he released his final exhale and softly gasped, “You’re here!”

With that, his bright blue eyes faded to grey.

@youbloodymadgenius  @whenimaunicorn @ceridwenofwales  @jaydelesley4  @sweeneythots @funmadnessandbadassvikings@redama @mdredwine @didiintheblog   @londongal2810 @fields-and-fields-of-poppies  @littlecarolina94 @oddsnendsfanfics @youbelongeverywhere @blonddnamedhandz @hecohansen31 @naaladareia @gearhead66 @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @ivarsrideordie​ @lisinfleur​ @geekandbooknerd​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @edythofhastings​ @ivarsgoddess​ @shannygoatgruff​ @where-beauty-goes-to-die​ @zuxiezendler​