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theyhavetakenovermylife · 3 months

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Hi there, I just stumbled upon your posts and I’m in love with the Sons of Leonardo one! 🤍 can you write more about Leo and his family, maybe about how his brothers get along with their nephews and niece? 💙💙💙

Plz and thank you!!

Love Of Uncles (Fluff)

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

A/N: I most certainly can! Hope you didn’t wait too long💙 I’ve had this idea, that even when the guys get married and have children, they would still live together as a sort of collective, each with their own area/rooms where they, their partners and the kids sleep. With that being said, they see their uncles, aunts, grandpa and cousins everyday, making them pretty close💙

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Warnings: Spelling💙

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“Are you sure you got her?”, Leo asked in a worried tone, watching as Donatello hugged Valentina closely against him, the 2 year old happily resting her head against her uncle.

“I got it, Leo”, Donnie answered, leaning his head towards his niece, causing the young girl to giggle. “I have twins. I know how to take care of a child”.

“I know, I know”, Leo said with a sigh, the worry still clear in his eyes. “But if anything happens-”.

“Nothing is going to happen Leo”, you said, cutting your husband off. “Like Donnie said, he got her”.

Leo looked at you with an almost pained expression on his face. He had never been a big fan of leaving your kids behind in the lair, without at least one of you to look after them. Especially not while your youngest was still a toddler. In the two years that had made up Valentina’s life so far, Leo had gone up an extra step in his protectiveness, both him and your sons making sure that there was nothing that could harm her in the slightest.

You and Leo had finally decided to go spend some couple time alone in April and Casey’s cabin. It had been his brothers’ idea, seeing how having four kids at very different ages was starting to take a toll on you. Sure, you had 18 year old Romeo to help out, but with his new found freedom and enjoyment for the world above, you did not want to force him into staying in the lair and taking care of his siblings.

“Don’s right, Leo”, Mikey said, walking by carrying Luis and Gerardo under each arm, the 12 year old cousins laughing and having the time of their life, as 10 year old Ragnar followed behind, poking at their feet. “We got them, like we always do. Isn’t that right, Raph?”, Mikey called out for the turtle in red.

“Sure we do”, Raph said, watching with a proud smile as Joan and Marcello showed Minerva how to punch a punching bag, exactly the way he had taught them.

“I’m still not too comfortable with it”, Leo sighed, already imagining all the ways things could go wrong while he wasn’t there.

“Leonardo”, sounded Master Splinter’s voice from the entranced to the dojo, 16 year old Galileo and 18 year old Romeo’s heads poking out of the door as Splinter made his way over to his oldest son, making sure he did not step in Dorothy, Marie and Sunny’s little get together at the end of the staircase. “There’s no reason to be worried. You and (Y/N) can safely go on your trip while we look after the kids”.

“Not that we need any looking after”, Marcello called out from the other side of the lair. “Last time I checked, it was only Valentina that still wore a diaper”.

“Hey!”, Romeo yelled out from the dojo sliding doors, his attention directed at his younger brother. “Be nice!”

“I did nothing!”, Marcello yelled back, starting a loud argument between the two, yelling from each side of the room. Leo sighed loudly and rubbed the bridge of his beak. This was one of the many things he feared would happen.

“Romeo! Marcello!”, Splinter yelled with a stern voice, tapping his cane against the ground with a loud bang, causing your sons to cease their fighting. “No fighting!”

“Sorry, grandpa Splinter”, they both mumbled, looking sheepishly at their feet. You tried to hide your smile as Splinter turned to Leo, a smug smile on his snout. “I believe we got them under control”.

“Well”, Leo said reluctantly. “I guess you’re right…”

“Of course he’s right!”, you said, tossing your bag in your husband's direction, causing him to blink in surprise when he caught it. “Now, let’s go. We should have left 20 minutes ago!”, you continued, pushing him towards the exit of the lair, as he called out the last few reminders to his brothers.

“Donnie! Remember that Valentina has sensitive skin! No soaps with perfumes! Remember what I told you about her sleeping schedule! Mikey! No milk to Gerardo! He’s lactose intolerant!”

“I’ve known that for the last 12 years!”, Mikey called back with a big smile, enjoying the laughter of Luis, Gerado and Ragnar as they hung onto the back of his shell.

“Raph!”, Leo continued, almost playing tug of war with you in order to get him out of the door. “Remember Marcello’s bedtime! He gets grumpy when he doesn’t get his sleep!”

“Dad, I’m 15!”, Marcello yelled back.

“Yeah, but your sleep schedule is still worse than uncle Donnie’s!”, Leo said, causing Donnie’s children to snicker. “Oh! And dad!”, Leo continued, the old rat nodding. “Please make sure Romeo doesn’t get himself stuck in the dojo all night”.

Splinter chuckled as a blush crept up on Romeo’s cheeks. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure of it”.

“We’ll call when we get there!”, Leo called out, before you finally managed to pull the loud turtle out of the exit.

“No we won’t”, you retorted, turning your attention back towards your kids. “Be nice to your uncles while we’re gone, and your aunts when they get home from work. We’ll see you on Sunday. Love you all, bye!” And with those words you pushed Leo out of the lair, hurrying towards April and Casey's apartment, so you could borrow their car like they had promised you you could. That left your kids in the care of their uncles, and honestly, it was nowhere as bad as Leo had thought it would be. The only problem they stumbled upon was Valentina asking for you and Leo with the few words she had, followed by a few minutes of crying. However she was quickly comforted in the arms of her uncle, soon giggling and smiling all over again.

After a few hours, the brothers’ partners returned from work for the weekend, ready to enjoy it with their extended family. With their return, Mikey and his wife went into the kitchen to cook dinner, closely followed by Sunny, Luis, Gerardo and Ragnar, all while Raph was throwing a ball to Marcello and Joan, Mini was curled up beside her mother on the couch, watching television as she knitted, while Donnie and his wife was playing with Valentina and his daughters, and Romeo and Gali was training in the dojo with grandpa Splinter.

Once dinner was made and the table was set, the large family gathered to eat together. No matter how big your strange family got, it had always been a rule that the family ate together. Even though each brother may have a hallway, containing bedrooms for themselves and all of their children, the living area, kitchen and dining area was still common areas, where they all would spend time together.

It was a little strange not to have you and Leo at the dining table, but they managed, talking and making plans for the weekend. You and Leo’s kids would have so much fun, that they wouldn’t even notice that the two of you were gone, bringing you some much needed time to relax.

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shinjisdone · 6 months

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To Soften a Warrior’s Heart (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn; Part 7)

In which you have joined Askeladd’s band…and grow closer to the Son of Thors. Though it is more difficult than anyone can could ever imagine…

[Headcanons of how it would be like to meet and crawl your way into Thorfinn’s heart (based on season 1; both platonic and romantic)]

Part 1 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 14 and how he is at that age

Part 2 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 16/17 + headcanons of growing closer (slightly following s1 story)

Part 3 is here - blooming friendship with Thorfinn (slightly following s1 story)

Part 4 is here - Thorfinn unwittingly opening his heart as he realizes he does not want you to die

Part 5.1 is here - sweet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 5.2 is here - other seet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 6 is here - meeting Canute and becoming his guard - Thorfinn accepts your relationship and bond

Part 8 is here - Thorfinn wins against Thorkell; Questioning your bond with Thorfinn

Part 9 is here - Meeting Leif and Thorfinn dueling Askeladd; Losing while Askeladd told him the truth of his constant losses

Part 10 is here - Thorfinn and you bound by heart; Promises of Vinland broken and abandoned

Tag list:

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen

[Mentions of murder, death, war, slave trade, harrasment against women and whatever awful things happened in the viking era. Only mentioned and used as examples. Mostly gender-neutral examples but female-leaning ones are there, too.]

[This part will specifically mention: Death of character, Canute being slapped, pillaging, mention of Canute not taking care of himself to the point where he could die, slight gore, Thorfinn leaving you alone, uh oh its Thorkell time]

So It Goes On And On Not Knowing When It Went Wrong...

So. While things have changed a bit, all around everything still seemed the same.

Marching on and travelling by wagon is not bad at all, you noted, and so far nothing has really threatened the prince, that was constantly attempting to glance at your direction.

Ragnar is quiet all around except for the prince and Askeladd hasn't shared one of his 'great plans' in a while, too.

Thorfinn was as grumpy as ever, always by your side.

Yet the snow has gotten heavier.

It was worrying at best...the road to the king was long.

And the food was running low.

So I Just Feel and Feed The Blood That's Inside Me...

It was only a matter of time.

Of course. Askeladd being Askeladd, being the cunning and clever fellow he was, the leader of hungry, savage vikings would take all a single village had to feed his.

You heard the priest, who traveled silently along you with his alcohol in hand, shriek and call out. Björn quickly beat him into submission.

Ragnar argued to leave these good, religious people alone while speaking as little English as possible.

You were just glad Askeladd did not order you to 'help'. You'd stay far back, as far as you could, watching over the prince. You wondered if he could hear the same things as you.

The young man was hunched and not peeking at you for once. Even while no one was there, Thorfinn still insisted to sit close by you, squeezing you into the wall of the wagon and keeping Cantue a good distance away. He said nothing.

Just as the food arrived, he handed you meat. Telling you to eat while you could and that food was food. Canute got his portion from Ragnar.

You cared for your friend. Yet at times you observed his apathy that was as equal to enemies as it was to innocent people.

Still, such things are quickly forgotten. It isn't the first time, after all.

You got food, you got water, and supplies. You'll survive and so will the prince.

All was the same...including when Ragnar invited you once again to eat. Food was food and especially delectable when it was cooked safely.

You convinced Thorfinn to go. Whether or not out of trust and companionship for Canute and Ragnar or for the fact that was it was free and cooked food. Safely cooked food - miles better than charred fish.

Thorfinn pouts. He doesn't particularly care for 'lunch' but if one; you were to go and two; there was food, he'd have no choice but to oblige.

It was eerily similiar to the first dinner - Canute cooked while Ragnar helped set the table. Only would he glance at you from time to time, the smile on his face fading.

Whether or not you note that the man is not fond of his son - well, his prince, fancying you, is up to you. But know that he won't openly do something against his affections as long as they don't cross a limit.

He cannot have his highness believe he can just have you stay at his castle and marry you...

Thorfinn noticed too, and while he understands where the man is coming from, that does not sour his mood any less whenever Ragnar has to...scowl at you like that.

Canute is as shy as a maiden. He cooks and it is like he had forgotten about the pillage as he asked you bashfully how the dish was.

Soon the shanty is filled with conversation of the past until Ragnar was called out by the rest of the band. Eyeing the trio requesting for his presence, he promised Canute he'd return soon and for you and Thorfinn to continue protecting him.

With an narrowed gaze you watched them leave. The door was closed to keep the snow out. Their footsteps slowly grew quieter and finding the table to be cleaned already, Canute shyly attempted smalltalk with you.

You admitted to yourself that you were barely listening. When you looked into the faces of the men, the bandmates that you knew, you could only see Askeladd.

The table shook and rumbled as the men put Ragnar's cold body on it, more carelessly than planned. Askeladd glanced at them before gazing back to Canute with the same narrowed and focused eyes. The latter was trembling at the sight.

"It was an ambush." Askeladd began, continuing with an empty explanation and the request to keep moving forward. Whoever killed Ragnar must be on their heels - and with Thorkell in tow, they'd best hurry.

They leave shortly after with only you, Thorfinn and Canute staying. Your blonde friend said nothing as he prepared his things. Canute could only stare wordlessly at the corpse in the room.

There it was again. Maybe the sliver of compassion left in your heart or the knowledge that it is difficult to move on from death but it is a must anyway - no matter what the reason may be, you once again decided to appraoch the prince.

With a hand on his shoulder, you turned him to you. His dilating eyes couldn't meet yours. "Prince...what Askeladd said is unfortunately true. If we stay, we will all die here. It hurts, but we have to keep going."

It worked in a way as well...as if in a trance, Canute let you lead him out of the shanty by the hand and into the cold snow. His gaze, as wide as a deer's, was glued on Ragnar until he was inevitably out of sight.

The trance was quickly broken though.

The moment Canute was forcefully thrown into the wagon, he found his voice in an agonizing scream again. His big eyes shut close for the first time only to spill out tears as he yelled out profanity after profanity, order after order to have Ragnar not be left behind in some nowhere shanty but properly buried in honor.

The leader of the band made it quickly clear that they do not have time for funerals and honor - a mountain of a man with a bloodlust no warrior deities could match was after them - after him - so he could cease his bawling.

"Ragnar!" His name left his mouth again, his throat beginnning to hurt. If he himself could not stop his grief, then it was Askeladd leaving his face bruised in a hard slap.

"Ragnar is dead. No matter how many times you call out for him, the dead will not hear you. Not come for you nor help you."

Canute brought a hand to his throbbing, red cheek. The tears stopped for a moment as he stared at Askeladd in disbelief, voice shaking.

"...It was you..."

It was clear to everyone witnessing that there were more words to be exchanged, yet the man was faster. Without any hesitation he ordered for everyone to keep on marching no matter what. With a flick of his finger, he pointed back to Thorfinn and you, telling you to keep on having an eye on the prince.

You didn't know what to think. But as Thorfinn helped you up on the wagon and Canute silently hunched in his seat, you only knew you felt anger.

Keep Your Precious Justice To Yourself, Bud...

Only a few days have passed but each was as dull as the next.

Thorfinn and you still had the priviledge on sitting on the wagon next to Canute, who stayed hunched in his lone seat. He hadn't spoken a word ever since Askeladd's lesson of death.

The band's mood darkened like the grey and cloudy sky. Snow kept on piling and piling up and you often had the displeasure of getting off the wagon and pushing it through the thick white while Canute stayed put, not lifting a finger nor his head.

Thorkell was close - everyone knew. Besides the whsipers, only Björn spoke to the band's leader.

Thorfinn ate, slept and sat as if nothing was wrong. SInce the days have been quiet, he barely paid any attention to the prince, and would only acknowledge you. Though due to the gloomy atmosphere among the men, you barely were in any mood to talk and the blonde knew it.

At times he'd nudge you, asking how you feel. He shares his food, dividing it in two, or lets you drink fom his water sash. His blanket and cloak are, of course, also yours to share.

Yet he doesn't even lift a finger for Canute. The young man is grieving in solitude even while surrounded by men there to protect him. He does not reply nor answer anyone's call.

You take a part of the loaf of bread Thorfinn shared with you and offer it to him.

Thorfinn glares at the exchange disapprovingly. Still, he lets you do whatever you think needs to be done.

Even if he doesn't really get it or see it as neccesary.

It takes time, but Canute lifts his head ever so slightly before taking the bread. He chewed on it slowly.

The prince may not speak and seemed even quieter than he was at your first meeting, but he at least acknowledged you and your actions. Whenever the men realized that they would also have to look out for the young man - after all, he cannot starve or die of thirst or cold - they would turn to you for the task. Canute only seemed to accept your deeds and your words.

Ragnar wasn't here to baby him anymore, after all.

As heartless as it may sound, Thorfinn also saw Ragnar's actions as babying Cantue. And now, you are doing the exact same.

After some time Thorfinn would definitely whisper to you, whisper how you are smothering and mothering him. Look at the princess. He barely cannot eat or drink by himself. Another round of your kind and honeyed words will have him demand that you start feeding him as well.

Whether or not you shush or agree with him is up to you. But it cannot be denied that Canute cannot be left alone or else he would easily allow himself to die.

Some men gossip among themselves how you have taken Ragnar's position. None found any glee or schadenfreude in that fact, however, and were more focused on the inevitable meeting with Thorkell the Tall.

Higher Than The Sky And Deeper Than The Sea...

And so it came.

You remember it well. How Thorfinn, sitting next to you, grabbed your arm and shifted you closer to him. His cold glare was aimed at the road covered in snow in the distance and his voice was in a low whisper.

"We have to start looking out for the others as well." He began curtly and dry. Brief with his assumption that something was wrong here in the band, that none of the men liked where any of this was going.

They did not like the plan. The marching. The secrets Askeladd kept to himself and the feral giant hunting them down. It would only be a matter of time before a fight would ensue.

"Look out for yourself. Stay alert." He told you and with that, let go, as if nothing had been exchanged between you at all.

And just like that, it was like a prophecy.

The bridge the men were ordered to destroy was nothing but a pebble on the road for Thorkell. He and his men were visible over the hill and with just one swing of his arm, a spear impaled three men.

As swift as the wind, Thorfinn flung out his daggers and stood in front of you. Canute did not move a muscle at the men falling, nor did he look up to know who was here to 'save' him next.

People dying and fighting over being the 'escorts' and 'heroes' who have safely returned the prince to his king.

A quick arguement began before it became a full-out betrayal.

Not like Askeladd had not seen it coming.

Quickly he ordered Björn to ride off and bring the prince to safety - with you and Thorfinn on the wagon and tow as well.

The tables have turned and a manpower of over thirty are now after Askeladd's head and the prince's saftey. Feet stomped over the broken wreckage and soon, Thorkell stood before them all.

The bandmates hoped to switch sides and offer Askeladd's life as a token of loyalty. But your heart only gave out at the sight of the giant of a man.

No matter how you felt about Askeladd, the conversations you had with him...you could not forget his attempt at your life and all the things he had done to Thorfinn...you could not charge back down there and help him.

But Thorfinn could and would.

As he let out a scream, you held him back by his shoulders. The wagon was rushing away from the turmoil together with the prince and the priest...and more of the traitors came hunting you down on their horses.

"It's foolish to go back there! There's Thorkell, Thorkell! Don't you remember what he did to us last time?!"

Though, Thorfinn does not listen. He aimed at the oncoming men and their horses, shooting them down before they could reach you. Sparing one of the animals, he saddled on before yelling back at you. His face contorted in an rage you have never seen before.

"He is MY prey!!!" He shouted back, "You stay here! Kill anyone who tries to come near you!"

It is the first time where the young viking does not prioritize your safety.

As he charged back to the hill below, he shot down the rest coming for the prince - yet in his mind they are coming for you.

Even as they fell, he left you alone with Björn who is easily tempted by madness.

If he hesitates now, his revenge will be lost.

[idk whats up with me today, my english is just....bleh. I really mix up past tense and present dont ask me why.

More of a 'from plot A -> plot B' kind of thing. Not a lot happens unitl then...]

#vinland saga #vinland saga x reader #thorfinn #thorfinn karlsefni #thorfinn x reader #vinland saga headcanons #thorfinn headcanons #thorfinn karlsefni x reader #gender neutral imagine #vinland saga imagine #thorfinn imagine #thorfinn x you #prince canute #canute #askeladd #this one is kinda eh #but its also because nothing exciting happens #besides...depression #dont worry once canute literally wakes up into his character development #things are gonna go hoooooweee #rip to all the men dying though holy shit #i googled to see how MANY men askeladd really had and uh #wow they really do not leave their corpses alone #uses them for target practice holy shit #i understand canute's view of love now and how vikings need it #thorfinn also idiot #literally leaves you alone to SAVE HIS DADS KILLER smh #HELLO??? U R LITERALLY HIS ONLY FRIEND #AND YOU GET TO BE LEFT ALONE AND NOT BE SAVED #TSAWH

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soapsilly · 5 months

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Everyday a little less Part 5 - Vikings Imagine

Pairings: Hvitserk x reader, Ubbe x reader

Summary: (Y/N) is Kattegat’s healer and Hvitserk’s girlfriend but after Hvitserk decides to side with Ivar and fight against Ubbe, she questions herself if she can still stay with him.

Requests are closed

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Masterlist

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The priest turned out to be more resilient than (Y/N) would’ve thought. It was by far no painless procedure but little by little he gained strength and soon she could confidently say, “He’ll heal”.

However, Lagertha’s warriors didn’t take kindly to those news. A christian - a priest even - who fought and slaughtered alongside Ivar, did not only get to live but would possibly make a full recovery whilst their brothers died by his hands. Even many days later, the camp was still filled with the screams of the vikings, whose wounds had not healed. The infection had spread to the bone and at that point there wasn’t much more that (Y/N) could do. It was either amputation or death.

The healer understood the resentment - she really did - but she couldn’t bare to see them kick the priest’s walking aid from under his feet when he was trying to make his way through camp. She automatically closed her eyes to avoid seeing him hit the ground but the ‘thump’ followed by the cheering of the men and women surrounding her was enough for her to paint a mental picture. Of course it pained her to see any person struggling and in pain, she was a healer after all, but she’d be lying of she said that the situation did not remind her of Ivar’s feeble attempts to walk, using the walking aids that he had made specifically for him. Many times she heard people make fun of the youngest of Ragnar Lothbrok’s sons and many times she defended him and eventhough they were on different sides of a war, her heart still ached for him.

The priest, however, did not yield. They kicked him down but he still crawled over to his aid and used it to hoist himself up again. As another one was about to kick it away yet another time, (Y/N) stopped him, “Enough!”

The vikings turned to look at her but before anybody had the chance to protest she continued, “Lagertha, your Queen, made me save this man. She made me save him and she made me do my best and heal him. And eventhough I don’t know the reason for this, I’m sure she has one...”

In other words, the priest was off limits. What no one knew though, was, that not even Lagertha herself knew why she wanted the priest alive but at the moment it didn’t matter because merely the fact that she spared his life then saved him from torment now.

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(Y/N) didn’t sit at the table with the others when they received the news that the Franks have arrived in the north. She stood leaned against one of the pillars of the tent. This way she could listen in on the conversation without running the risk of having to participate in it. But what she gathered from it filled her with anxiety.

Whilst she had seen many places and people, she had only ever heard of the Franks.

“Tell me about them”, (Y/N) asked Hvitserk. The both of them were laying together on the beach, watching the sky. The both of them would sometimes lie there the whole day, first watching the clouds and later at night the stars, while they would talk for hours on end. (Y/N) usually rambled on and on about her travels and all the plants and flowers she had seen there, Hvitserk enjoyed listening to her stories about foreign lands and people but didn’t understand a word about the healing properties of certain tinctures and balms. He didn’t mind at all though - in fact he enjoyed each and every word that left her mouth. But it wasn’t only the young woman that talked, every now and again Hvitserk would interrupt her to throw in some funny anecdotes and stupid jokes. (Y/N) would always act annoyed but secretly she liked when he did this. She tried her hardest to not let it show but her giggles would always give her away. She enjoyed when he talked about the fights and pranks that him and his brothers were up to. She really loved every single one of them but Hvitserk was special to her.

“Well, I was still young. Father took Ubbe and me with him. I remember how excited we were. Growing up we heard all the stories about how Ragnar Lothbrok led the raid against the Saxons and how easy it was. We were expecting the same ease but it wasn’t so”, Hvitserk furrowed his brows.

When they left the table Ubbe walked up to (Y/N).

“What do you think?”, he asked her. She wouldn’t tell her opinion without being asked about it, but he trusted her assesment. Ubbe looked at her, unable to read her expression. He wondered if Hvitserk had been able to.

(Y/N) only shook her head. Ubbe didn’t know if she disagreed with the plan or if she was trying to signal him that her thoughts were as lost as he was. Before he could ask, she interrupted him.

“Tell me about them”

Ubbe was quiet for a second. He was sure Hvitserk told her all about everything already. But this time the healer wasn’t interested in their culture and people but rather if they stood a chance.

“They outnumber us. Our best chance is Björn convincing Uncle Rollo to talk Ivar out of this war”

(Y/N) nodded but it was more to herself, as if to confirm what she had already thought.

“It seems we’ll do battle again soon”, (Y/N) concluded. She didn’t believe anybody - not even the Allfather himself - could ever convince Ivar to change his ways.

“Either of us could die. It is almost certain that one of us will”, Ubbe stated, almost no emotion in his voice. (Y/N) knew that he wasn’t only talking about himself, but about Björn, Torvi, Lagertha and Halfdan - maybe even Hvitserk and Ivar, too.

The younger woman wanted to disagree with him, wanted to tell him that everything would be okay but realized that Ubbe was right. Instead she simply hugged the taller man. Almost immediately she could feel his arms around her. And so they stood there in silence for a few moments and when they finally let go, they didn’t feel as bad anymore.

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In Kattegat Margrethe saw visions of Ubbe and visions of (Y/N) and visions of the both of them together.

“I shouldn't have married her”, she heard Ubbe say to the woman sitting across from him in his tent. “I wish it was you who carried my child”

(Y/N) obviously enjoyed hearing that, as she crawled over to the man and started kissing him passionately. Margrethe wasn’t surprised in the slightest though. Since Hvitserk betrayed them, (Y/N) was circling around her husband like a crow that would wait for hurt animals to finally die. She weaseled her way into their lives, into Lagertha’s inner circle... However, much to her displeasure Ubbe fell for her tricks. He wouldn’t do anything while they were still in Kattegat together but since they left for war, Margrethe did not have any influence over her husband anymore. She knew that the healer had cast a spell on him, brew some kind of love potion... and now she could see the two of them have sex in Ubbe’s tent.

“Margrethe!”, a child’s voice ripped the woman out of her thoughts. She couldn’t stand caring for those children anymore. She accepted the responsibility as long as she knew there’d be a payoff but now that Ubbe left her for (Y/N) there wasn’t any reason to act like their thrall anymore. She got her freedom and wouldn’t ever go back to how things were.

“Mommy?”, the younger of the two children asked her. Margrethe knew deep down that it wasn’t the childrens fault but she couldn’t help but to still give a cruel answer anyways.

“How stupid you are. What do you think your mother is doing now? Perhaps she is getting ready to fight. Or maybe she's dead. Maybe she has already died in battle. My advice to you is to forget about your mother. Don't think of her. Don't imagine she's ever coming back. Except as a ghost”

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Rollo wasn’t there. He never even came. And so they had no other choice but to fight like Ubbe predicted. Once again they all gathered around Lagertha’s big wooden table to consult about the next steps. Like usual (Y/N) listened to everything everybody said, but never made any suggestions herself. It wasn’t like her to mingle with war matters. All the talk about legacys and conservation of territories made her sick. Lagertha wanted to send a considerable number of fighters back to Kattegat to defend the city if they were to lose the war, Björn advised against it - they would need every single man and maiden out on the battlefield if they were even to stand a chance.

But then Halfdan spoke up,”The gods have already decided the outcome of this battle”

(Y/N) wasn’t originally from Norway. She was a traveller, didn’t really have any roots. Often times, she couldn’t really relate to the faith the boys had in their gods. She now lived there so long that she took over their speech patterns and she even sometimes caught herself sending a impromptu prayer towards the gods during difficult times but when things really started to become grave she never understood their faith. But now she really wanted to believe the words Halfdan just spoke, because it was the only comfort she could find in this cruel situation.

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“What are you thinking of?”, Ivar asked his brother. Both of them were busy with the last preparations for the war.

“I’m thinking I think many things, Ivar”, Hvitserk didn’t look up from his arm cuffs.

“I always fear that thought may fail to wing his way home. But my fear for memory is greater. What do you fear most, dear brother? The loss of thought or memory?”

“My thoughts and memories seem to be the same. Every time I think, I always remember the day I jumped out of Ubbe's ship”, Hvitserk felt a pang of melancholy. Was it because of his brother or because of his lover? It was true that he missed (Y/N) and it was true that he still loved her, but he did what he had to do and she should have followed him.

“But you didn't jump. The gods pushed you”, Ivar teased his brother.

“I wasn't pushed. I decided to do it”

Ivar laughed, “And I think, you still regret it”

Hvitserk became serious, “I have no regrets. Except”, he let out a little chuckle, “I don't have any children”. He was still young but the thought of having children with anybody except (Y/N) had honestly never crossed his mind.

“But then again, Ivar, you and me are in the same boat, huh?”, he continued in an attempt to lighten the mood.

But Ivar wasn’t having it. the younger brother went on to describe how he’ll have children and how those children will go on to populate the earth.

Hvitserk, who still didn’t understand how serious his brother was, let out a laugh,”Yeah, sure”

In the blink of an eye Ivar pulled out his knife holding it dangerously close to Hvitserk’s throat. Only after several warning from his older brother did he lower the weapon again.

“I'm anxious about the battle. I am sorry”, he said calmly.

“You're sorry?”

“I am sorry you jumped ship. It was a mistake. I know you have regretted it ever since. And isn't that true, huh, poor Hvitserk?”, Ivar sounded hateful.

“Maybe sometimes”

“Maybe sometimes. I thought that perhaps you jumped ship because you loved me. But of course you didn't. How could you ever love me?”

And there the feeling was again, Ivar made him his dog once again.

“I am sorry you jumped ship. It was a mistake. I know you've regretted it ever since. It was a mistake” Ivar’s words kept on echoing in Hvitserk’s head. What he didn’t yet know was, how much Ivar planned to make his words reality.

*******************************************************************************************

The battle was bloody. There were screams everywhere. Screams from attacking vikings aswell as from wounded and dying warriors. Ubbe had slain many men already and there was still no end in sight. Even though they really were outnumbered, it didn’t mean that they didn’t try until the bitter end.

And all of a sudden brother stood before brother. For just a second Ubbe and Hvitserk just stood there - and then with a loud yell Ubbe swung his sword...

but stopped right where Hvitserk’s neck met his shoulder. Who could’ve known that Hvitserk would find himself in the same situation twice within the same day? And yet again he didn’t even flinch. Ubbe tried again but couldn’t do it. Hvitserk asked himself if Ivar would have the same reservations if they were on different sides? By the time he finished his thought two fighting vikings had seperated the eye contact he and Ubbe held and his older brother turned his back to him and left him standing.

*******************************************************************************************

He couldn’t do it. It was his little brother. He knew sometimes death was inevitable but he couldn’t just kill Hvitserk like Ivar killed Sigurd. Would Harald hesitate to kill Halfdan? Surely Björn wouldn’t hesitate to kill either of them if they stood before him on a battlefield but if Ubbe killed Hvitserk he not only couldn’t forgive himself, he would also have to bring (Y/N) the news that the one who killed her lover wasn’t just any other viking or Frank but rather his own brother. Could she forgive him? He was sure she would accept it but would she ever look at him the same?

Ubbe was torn from his thoughts when he saw a small group of Ivar’s warriors running up the hill towards their campsite. It was like Ivar to start an ambush - a cheap and dirty trick.

*******************************************************************************************

“Ivar! What are you doing sending warriors in Lagertha’s camp?”, Hvitserk, too, had seen the group of vikings running away from the battlefield and towards the enemy camp. He knew Harald would never oder such a thing, so as fast as his legs would carry him he made his way over to where Ivar was mounted on his chariot.

“They will not be expecting this, brother! They’re losing anyways. And once that happens where will they go?”, Ivar’s voice carried a smile.

“There are wounded people there. (Y/N) is there!”, Hvitserk tried to reason with Ivar even though it was no use. He already sent out the men.

“So what, Hvitserk? So what? She left us! She chose Ubbe!”

Hvitserk looked at his younger brother in disbelief. Was this really about her all along? If anything she left him and him only. She was never Ivar’s to begin with but Hvitserk began to understand. She was his healer. His and only his. And in another life Ivar probably thought that she could’ve loved him in a way that his brothers never would but now he felt as if she chose Ubbe over them.

“She didn’t”, Hvitserk’s statement was final and with that, he went and ran after the group of vikings that were sent out to kill what was left of Lagertha’s camp.

“You’ll see, brother, you’ll see!”, Ivar yelled after Hvitserk but his older brother.

*******************************************************************************************

Once Hvitserk arrived in Lagertha’s camp he could hear screaming immediately. The few shield maidens that Lagertha kept there to guard the camp were still battling against Ivar’s assassins. And even a few of the wounded fought to the best of their abilities. Bodies littered the floor. A few of Ivars men but mostly Lagerthas vikings.

Hvitserk heard a scream that pulled him out of his stupor - (Y/N)! He made his way through the camp. Slaying men on his way there. Once towards the middle of camp near a tent he could see her. There wasn’t much time to think. She was fighting with a dagger that she probably only had with her for cutting bandages or twine, but he was glad he had shown her how to defend herself if she had to. Still he didn’t waste any time and reached them no second too late. As the bigger man was just about to kick the woman down, Hvitserk thrusted his sword through the assassin’s chest, watching him collapse infront of their feet.

“Hvitserk” hearing his name out of her mouth sounded like the sweetest melody he has ever heard. She was out of breath, panting in fact, but other than that she seemed to be just fine. He took her form in. She looked tired but still so familiar. He had truly never stopped loving her and now that she was just within an arm’s reach all he had to do was -

“(Y/N)!”, Ubbe yelled her name.

As the healer heard the older Lothbrok’s voice a smile lit up her face and she ran towards him, throwing herself into his arms. When Hvitserk saw how tight she clung to Ubbe he couldn’t help but wonder if Ivar was right all along.

“Are you okay? I saw Ivar’s men heading to camp... I came as fast as I could-”

“Well, seems like you weren’t fast enough”, Hvitserk interjected.

Both Ubbe and (Y/N) looked at him. Hvitserk couldn’t quite read the look that laid in (Y/N)’s eyes. Was it uncertainty? Was it fear? He didn’t have the time to figure it out. The sounds of horns filled the air signaling that the battle has ended and that Lagertha and Björn have lost.

“Quick, we need to leave. The others will be here soon”, Ubbe already turned to leave assuming (Y/N) just follow him.

“Wait”, Hvitserk was determined to not just stand and watch as history repeated itself again,”what do you mean leave? You lost. Do you really think she’ll be safe with you?”

Ubbe let out a bitter laugh,”Ivar just sent assassins to try and kill her. Do you really think she’ll be safe with you?”

“I’ll protect her!”, Hvitserk was starting to get angy. Who did Ubbe think he was? (Y/N) was his. Ubbe had Margrethe to worry about, “Besides Ivar wouldn’t touch her once she came back to us - I’d make sure of that”

“You’d make sure of that? Ivar is unpredictable. No one is safe around him”

“(Y/N), please”, Hvitserk was now adressing his lover directly. He knew that he could protect her and he knew that she knew that aswell. So he held his hand out for her to take, “Come on, let’s go. We don’t have much time left”

Hvitserk was right, the noise grew louder and louder with every second they just stood there. (Y/N) looked at him and for a moment they were at the beach again, laughing about his silly jokes and listening to her travel stories - but only for a moment.

“Hvitserk... I’m - I’m so sorry...”, hearing that was answer enough. Slowly he let his outstretched hand sink and watched the love of his life turn his back. Ubbe put his hand between her shoulders and guided her away - away from the stranded Hvitserk. (Y/N) turned around one last time but by then her former lover had already hurriedly taken off.

The healer felt empty but she knew she made the right decision. Not only morally but also for her safety. Even though she had once loved Hvitserk, she knew that she would be safer with Ubbe. But there was also something else. She grew so fond of the comfort of his company, she feared what it would feel like to miss him, but she would never admit that. Not to herself, not to Hvitserk and especially not to Ubbe...

RollTag List: @sarcastichater @buckysjuicyplums @littlebirdgot @blacpiink

#vikings imagine #hvitserk imagine #ubbe imagine #hvitserk x reader #ubbe x reader #marco ilsø #jordan patrick smith #vikings x reader

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multific · 11 months

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Parents

Paz Vizsla x Reader

"Ragnar Vizsla!" the young Mandalorian turned and looked at the person yelling for him.

Upon seeing his mother Ragnar started to run.

They met halfway. You scooped him up into your arms, breathing him in.

Tears ran down your face as you looked at Bo Katan and Din Djarin.

"Thank you." both gave you a nod before your husband arrived by your side and decided to get you to a more private place.

Going back to your home, you never once let go of Ragnar.

"Riduur, you should sit down." said Paz as he tried to pull you to the couch.

"Yes, Mother, it would be best for the baby." Ragnar said as he too was rather worried.

"Thank you, but I was very worried." you said as you sat down finally. You reached out for Ragnar who hugged you.

"I am fine. I am back home." said the young boy, reassuring you and Paz.

"Thank you for bringing him back," you said to Paz who only nodded.

"Of course," you were just happy to finally have your son back.

---

"My beautiful mother, she is such a great soul. Even if she isn't a Mandalorian, she had all the great values of one. She loves my father, me and my brothers with all of her heart. My father is a great warrior, he taught me a lot and took me in as a foundling. When my mother got pregnant with my brother, I was scared they would neglect me since I wasn't their blood, but that never happened. Both of them treated me as their own, and I am. I am their son."

Ragnar remembers telling this story and many more of his parents for as long as he lived and after, his children told the stories of their grandparents.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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mrsarnasdelicious · 5 months

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Puppy Boy - Animal Shelter Sihtric Long Fic

Ch 1 - This Fucking Kid

"Heya kiddo." Finan ruffles his young tennant's hair. Sihtric groans, almost spilling his milk. "I am not a kid, I am 21!" He yells. "You're a kid, kid." Finan chuckles, sitting opposite the young Dane. "How was yer day?" He asks. "A lot." Sihtric murmurs. "Oh?" Finan furrows his brow. "Kinda overstimulated right now." Sihtric replies.

Finan owns a construction company, he's well off and unattached. He lives his best life in a house he built himself and works from his home office. He's Irish and does everything his Catholic upbringing forbids.

Sihtric is all but a decate younger and rents Finan's attic. He works at the local animal shelter and could not be more different from Finan even if he tried. He's shy, peculiar and more often than not straight up bad with people. He gets along much better with the animals he takes care of. And he hasn't had a girlfriend since he was sixteen. He is not at all unattractive, though somewhat dorky and clumsy in the way he dresses. Even the glasses he wears are kind of cute.

"Need to leave ya alone for a while?" Finan asks. He knows how Sihtric is by now. Sihtric peers at his watch. The thing looks like he's had it since he was twelve. "When's Uhtred gona be here?" He asks. Finan throws a glance at the digital clock on the oven. "In half an hour or so." He replies. Sihtric groans softly and gets up. "I'll go take a shower and try to decompress a bit." He says. "Just be down by dinner. And it is okay if you go back up when it gets too crowded." Finan assures him.

Sihtric nods and heads upstairs to shower.

He let's the hot water run over him, pictures it washing him clean from all the stimuli of today. He takes Finan's body wash, liking the scent of it, much better than his own. He can't afford the luxurious products Finan has, but he knows Finan doesn't mind if he uses them from time to time.

Once's he's cleaned up, he allows his mind to wander.

At first, they don't go anywhere in particular, meandering to the pretty woman who adopted one of the bunnies today. Sihtric liked the look of her freckles and full, round breasts. His cock swiftly hardens and his hand wanders south. Groans tumble from his mouth as he strokes himself. His imagination runs wild, picturing warm, full breasts, leaking with milk. "Mama, please." He whimpers, tugging firmly on his cock. "G-gods." He sputters.

He cums quickly, painting the tiled wall of the shower generously with his seed.

He comes down for dinner, find Uhtred, Halig and Leofric already there.

"Hello boy." Uhtred purrs, eyeing Sihtric up and down. Sihtric flushes so brightly his glasses almost fog over. He knows Uhtred well, but never really gets used to the covetous way he's being looked at. Especially considering Uhtred has a wife and kids. "Heya nerd." Halig grins at Sihtric as the youth sits down. Sihtric smiles a small smile at him. Leofric just grunts at him. Leofric is in his 40s, he's got nothing in common with Sihtric. But it's fine, Sihtric does not mind.

Over dinner, Uhtred starts whinging about his employer and Leofric, who works for the same firm, assures Finan it is not that bad. Sihtric just sits by, shoving Finan's superior cooking into his face.

After dinner, the others pile in. Aethelwold, Edward, Aethelflaed and Erik, Haesten, Dagfin, Aldhelm and Aethelred, Eadith and Ragnar and Brida. Sihtric is pretty sure Finan wants to shack up with Eadith. The Irishman can barely keep his eyes off of her.

Sihtric joins in for a few round of whatever card game has been brought out, but quickly gets overstimulated, so retires to his bedroom. Only Aethelwold hassles him for it, but Sihtric doesn't care for that guy's opinion.

He puts his headphones on and listens to Valhalla Calling on repeat for half an hour at first.

He touches himself again after that, his jumper between his teeth, abs glistening with a fine sheen of sweat as he strokes his thick, long cock. He doesn't really fantasize about anything. He just focusses on the feeling of fucking his fist. But of course he can't keep his mind on track. He wonders what it would feel to fuck a warm wet pussy, or a tight hot arse. To just slip into another person's body, feel their heat and pressure. "Oh Gods." He groans. He imagines what it would be like to drown in another person's scent. To press his face between two warm breasts or a firm chest and just inhale. He feels his climax building, his mind wandering further to suckling on hardened, sensitive nipples. To feel fingers rake through his hair and be praised.

It is the undoing of him. He spends himself all over his chest and abs.

It isn't that Sihtric is unattractive and he's had a few girlfriends in high school. He's kissed a boy in a club once. It was the only time he'd ever been to a club. And he made out with Uhtred when he got genuinely wine drunk. But all of that has been at least two years ago. He hasn't gone to a club in aaages. He hasn't made out with anyone in what feels like a decade, which it of course is not.

He's not a virgin, but the first time he's had sex, when he was seventeen, was uncomfortable and he just avoids it now. Not because he does not want to fuck. Gods he wants to fuck and be fucked in return. He has desire in spades. But he gets anxious when he thinks of the discomfort. He isn't even sure what the discomfort stemmed from, all he remembers from the entire ordeal was a fierce rash on his cock, but a clean STI test.

He doesn't have to work weekends. But still he spends all his time at the shelter. The animals never judge him for being odd. And the other people working the shelter got used to him being a bit a lot peculiar by now.

So eh heads out to the shelter saturday morning, after his morning work out. He works out twice a day, before work and before dinner. Working out makes his mind calm. He does the hard labour, bringing in heavy bags of kibble, cleaning the kennels and wrangling the big dogs. The weekend volunteers are very grateful that all they have to do now is feed the animals and socialise them.

After lunch he takes the dog for a run, each in turn. Running makes his head empty too. And the dogs love to get out of the kennel and show their best side. He does not draw too much attention, with his thick glasses and oversized hoodie. No one would suspect those hoodies hide rockhard abs and behind those glasses are mischievous eyes.

"Ah, Sihtric, there you are." One of the volunteers calls out, once he comes back from walking Tusker, a young staffie husky mix.

Sihtric quickly puts Tusker back into his kennel and goes up to the volunteer. "What's up?" He asks gently. The volunteer gestures him to follow into the office. Sihtric obliged, following to the elder lady in charge for today. "What can I do, ma'am?" He asks politely. "I need you to take Pretty to the vet, that hairball has been bothering her long enough now." The elder woman says. "Yes ma'am. I'll grab a carrier." Sihtric says diligently. "No need to, we already have her ready to go." The volunteer mixes in.

So he is brought Pretty, in her carried. "Thanks." He mumbles. Pretty hisses, she is uncomfortable. "Yeah yeah, I know." Sihtric cooes soothingly. He takes the carrier to his beat up old ford. Carefully he secures Pretty on the passenger chair and drives to the vet office in town.

You hear the front door bell chime. A walk in!

"Be right with you!" You cry out, making sure the file you were working on is saved. You get up from your desk and head into the waiting room.

You stand eye to eye with possibly the cutest boy you have ever seen. Holding a crate with the angriest cat you have ever heard. "Hi, who's this?" You ask. crouching before the crate. You peer into the crate, facing a moody calico persian. She hisses at you and you cast your eyes up at her person, waiting for an answer. You gaze up into dual coloured eyes, through glasses that magnify his long lashes. He looks so innocent it almost breaks your heart.

"What's her name?" You ask sweetly.

The youth swallows thickly. "P-pre- .. Pretty." He stammers. "And what is going on with Pretty?" You get back up and smile up at the young man. Fluster dusts his cheeks. "She .. she has a hairball stuck in her tract." He stutters. "Oh goodness, that is why she is so crabby, huh?" You cooe. "No... no, she is always like this." The youth shakes his head.

"How about we start with some paperwork, I'll get Pretty comfortable while you fill it out.¨ You cooe. "Yeah.. s-sure." He nods, extending you Pretty's crate. You take the crate and smile sweetly at him. "Come, follow me." You lead him to the treatment room. He eagerly follows after you.

You pull out some papers, handing them to the young man, while you put the crate on the sterilised table.

"Come here, pretty Pretty." You cooe. The persian hisses. "Alright, you take some bribery, I see." You chuckle. You grab a tube of chicken paste from a drawer and open it, holding it for Pretty to smell. Pretty cranes her neck and takes a little taste. "Good Gal." You cooe, slowly pulling your hand back. Pretty follows along to keep licking the chicken paste.

Sihtric feels his ears burn when he hears you praise Pretty. It unlocks something inside him and his jeans tent. He swears under his breath. This is not a bodily reaction he needs right now. He does his best to will his boner down, but you again praise Pretty for being so cooperative in exchange for yummy snacks. His cock throbs eagerly and he pulls his hoody over his crotch.

"I .. erm..." He has no idea what to say anymore, handing you the paperwork. He pointedly avoids looking you in the eye. "Thanks." You cooe, quickly reading through the form. "Sihtric Kjartansen?" You ask, to verify his name. "Yeah, I work for the local shelter." He replies. "So, Pretty is a shelter cat?" You ask. Sihtric nods. "Y-yeah." He stammers. "Why hasn't she been adopted yet?" You asked. "Cuz she is a bitch to everyone." Sihtric replies. You can't help a soft giggle.

"Now what is going on with Pretty?" You. "Hairball, won't pass. We have tried everything." Sihtric replies. He finds that it is easier to talk when he talks about the animals. Though he can't look you in the eye. "Are you giving her baths?" You ask. "N-no.." Sihtric stammers.

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #tlk #the last kingdom #arnas fedaravicius #au: animal shelter #vet!reader #construction firm owner!Finan

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faeymouse · 4 months

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Things that happened in Vikings: Godhead that made my hands instinctively go 🫶:

-Ecbert not caring what Ethelwold is saying until he insults Athelstan, and then suddenly Ecbert is on his feet, yelling. Biggest same.

-When Athelstan makes the comment “Can you imagine how scared they must be?” when nobody except him comments on young men getting kidnapped from monasteries by Vikings, and the next panel immediately shifts to Ragnar like yes please he better feel guilty guy has felt too comfortable about it for too long.

-Athelstan leaping into a stormy ocean to save Floki. He’s the only one that does, it’s great. It can now be considered a common occurrence that he jumps into bodies of water to save people.

-The Floki and Athelstan interaction. It’s giving frenemies. It’s giving begrudging respect between two men that can never and will never be friends, despite being so similar. Pretty much everyone underestimates Athelstan, or else feel an unending need to protect him like he’s some fragile treasure — Floki is ironically probably the only person in existence who is like, damn, the priest may be the most dangerous man any of us have ever met.

-Athelstan bludgeoning some dude to death with a cross

-Lagertha saying Ragnar has a perfect butt

-Helga shoving another woman face-first into a lit hearth

-Ragnar ragnaring his way into victory through the power of subtle trickery and friendship.

-The Seer once again being a Q

-Cavan Scott interviewing Michael Hirst at the end

#babbles #faey reads #vikings #vikings godhead #mostly im just so happy to find a decent full length vikings graphic novel #and athelstan really does get all the best moments Cavan Scott gets it

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polijakefim · 2 months

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F L A U N T

TRAVIS FIMMEL

Girl's Gotta Eat

There are paths seen and unseen. There are paths taken. There are the Midwestern housewives who sit at home, who formerly popped bennies and ran topless through every jam band show at the local amphitheater. There are the vagrant, longhaired transients who receive stares as they push their cart of nothings around sweaty Southern towns, that formerly received stares only because they were professing at the front of a philosophy class. There are the attention-deficit young men, oft chastised for their inability to focus, but given open creativity, become playwrights and screenwriters. There are the balladeers. There are the celebrities. There is the you. There is the me. And there is Travis Fimmel, sitting in a hotel room in Vancouver, freezing his balls off. His is a story of barefooted farm boy turned bare-bodied model turned actor.

“It’s bloody cold,” he says in a relaxed Australian drawl. Of course it is. Fimmel grew up helping out on the family farm in a small town on the fork of two rivers in the middle of sunburnt Australia. He’s currently in the benumbed west Canadian port city filming Duncan Jones’ Warcraft: a film of epic proportion and expectation. But despite the video game-based spin-off, one gets the feeling Fimmel is the kind of lad who would much rather be chopping wood than mashing plastic buttons on a gaming controller. “I’d never heard of it,” he freely admits.

The path begins. When I ask about his early foray into Australian-rules football, he concedes what stymied the course, “Yeah but I sucked at it, man, I was very bad.” And thus he skipped the sporting life and tried college, “I didn’t pass any classes becauseI didn’t end up showing up—I was doing project managing for construction, like a foreman. Architecture and commerce [was the] main part of the course, I didn’t really want to go to college, I was just trying to fill in time…but then I ended up going overseas.” Fimmel wasn’t meant to be a paper-pushing desk jockey; just as Paul fucking Newman wasn’t meant to sling charred chicory at nine-to-fivers. With those baby blues and gilded locks it wasn’t long before Fimmel was modeling, most notably for Calvin Klein and most times wearing not a stitch. Previously Fimmel has played down his years of modeling, crediting favorable lighting, advanced cameras, and Photoshop for his looks and success. In fact, it’s speculated—and blatantly obvious upon viewing—that Fimmel was the inspiration behind Samantha’s washed-out brick-bod lover—“Jerry” Smith Jerrod—on Sex and the City.

The path winds. “Wound up in L.A., got into an acting class and then that’s where I started acting. I had no idea, never wanted to do this stuff, still don’t really want to do it, mate,” he admits. Fimmel is even-keeled, he exudes a thoughtless vibe, and as much as Fimmel plays it all down, one even has to question how hard he worked to get to his current status. Sometimes his nonchalant nature can come off as arrogant, and it’s easy to imagine he’s often misunderstood, but couldn’t care less; he’s just riding the wave. At first, Fimmel took jobs everyone in Hollywood thought would pay dividends but floundered [see: WB’s Tarzan] until he grew a beard and started swinging an axe. Ah, the farm boy swinging the axe again. It’s in History Channel’s Vikings that Fimmel found his niche, receiving acclaim for his portrayal of the contemplative but merciless, Ragnar Lothbrok, a deep-thinking maniac from Viking Age Europe. There is a swagger to his character that is maintained somewhere within Fimmel. When I ask about his association with Ragnar, he states, “Every guy that I know that fights is always the quietest guy in the room; I just try to think more than talk. You’ll always learn more by listening rather than being the loudest guy in the room. And whatever you do, you do because you enjoy it, so I try to make my character enjoy fighting.”

The path straightens. And so we find ourselves back in that Vancouver hotel room, freezing our balls off with Fimmel, as he’s in the midst of shooting the biggest film of his career. With all the aloofness Fimmel radiates, it piques one’s interest to know what he really is passionate about: “Farming, mate. That’s whatI want to do. I love the country. It’s hard to explain. When you grow up in the country you just enjoy it so much. I love animals and I love trees and anything country.”

And, lastly, that beard that’s quickly becoming his trademark: “It just grew I guess, I couldn’t for ages. I would have loved to grow one when I was a kid, I would have loved to have gone to prom and school and shit with a beard.”

Nothing to do with shedding the barefaced image of your Calvin Klein days? “[Audibly scoffs] Shit. I couldn’t grow one then. Otherwise I would have had one.”

That would have been a different path.

#travis fimmel #vikings #polijake_fim #ragnar lothbrok #travisfimmel

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lexyleblancc · 1 year

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Every moment is worth this {Finan}

Summary: Finan comes home after several months, greeting his family happily

Dad!Finan x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy

Word count: 593 just a short little one :)

Disclaimer: Not proof read, i am far too lazy for that

Having a husband who craved adventure and was as loyal as they came, was not for the faint of heart. Months would pass without word on if he was alive or not. The children cried for their father during the peak of storms, and sometimes it felt as though he would never come home. Despite all the hard times, there was never a desire for something different, for someone who would come home at the end of every day. Finan was worth the worry, for when he found himself on the front step of the small house things were okay for a little while.

“Momma! It’s Da!” The small voice of their youngest child called through the house. Before she had a chance to call back to the children, the front door was swinging open and several pairs of footsteps made their way outside. (Y/N) sighed to herself, placing a rag down on the counter and making her way to the door. Finan wasn’t supposed to be home for a few more days, so the possibility of whoever was walking through the village being him, was slim.

“Da!” The oldest cried, sprinting towards the man who bent down to embrace his two children. “We missed you!” (Y/N) stood in the doorway in disbelief, a hand holding at her heart as tears filled her eyes. Finan had been gone longer than ever, the weeks turned into months quickly but he still looked the same.

“I’ve missed you too, little Lady.” Finan grinned, kissing the girl’s forehead before turning to his son and doing the same. “You too, little warrior.”

“Come, Ma is making breakfast!” Their daughter (Y/D/N) exclaimed, taking the man's hand in hers as she dragged him to the house. Finan finally looked at the house, a large grin on his face as his children fought to talk over one another, but the only thing he could focus on was her. As beautiful as the day he left, his heart swelling at the sight of her.

(Y/N) wiped the tears from her face before they had a chance to linger, glancing down to the two excited children with a small laugh. “Alright you two, go wash up. Let your father in the house before you bombard him.” She said softly, shooing the siblings into the house so they could do as she said.

Finan sighed happily, reaching for the woman in front of him and bringing her into his arms. “Welcome home, love.”

“A warm welcome it is.” Finan grinned, leaning down and catching her lips with his. It was a slow, soft kiss, Finan drinking in every aspect of his radiant wife. “This pup is ready to join us any day now.” The man hummed, letting his hands fall to rest on her swollen stomach earning a kick from the babe.

The couple laughed as (Y/N) nodded her head. “Seems this one was waiting for you.” She told her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck to bring his lips down to meet hers once more. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I thought about you every second.” Finan mumbled into her hair, holding her tightly before the sound of squeals broke the couple apart.

“Ma! Da! We’re so hungry.” Their son cried, making the couple laugh.

“Then let's not wait any longer, aye?” Finan laughed, scooping his son into his arms and running into the house towards the living room.

Every moment he was home, made Finan worth months of not being able to have him.

#finan x reader #finan the agile #The Last Kingdom #the last kingdom imagine #finan imagine #Sihtric #sihtric x reader #Uhtred #uhtred x reader #osferth #osferth x reader #erik thurgilson #erik x reader #FATHER BEOCCA #young ragnar #ragnar x reader #ragnar ragnarsson

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alexagirlie · 3 months

Text

Couldn't Have Imagined

Part 2 of Blind (Masterlist)

Pairing(s): Sihtric/Finan

Rating: Soft M

Summary: Finan couldn't have imagined the direction his life had taken.

He couldn't have imagined it would take someone else calling the boy such for him to see how blind he had been.

Warnings: implied past abuse. implied past slavery. implied anal sex. misunderstandings. Finan POV. brief mention of Finan/Sihtric/Uhtred

Tags: @gemini-mama

Finan couldn't have imagined the direction his life had taken. From the rolling green hills of Irland to the turbulent land of Wessex and the journey in between.

To become a slave, sold by his own family and made to pull and pull and pull. Day after day, night after night, endlessly.

He couldn't have imagined the hope which bloomed in his chest when he first saw the blue-eyed man, the new slave who carried himself like a warrior. The awe and devotion he felt for a man whose true name he wouldn't learn for months to come.

He couldn't have imagined the elation he would feel on the day they were finally rescued. The satisfaction as he was finally able to sate his burning desire to kill-murder-rip-a-part the piece of shit who held the whip and split their skin for years.

He couldn't have imagined that instant spark of camaraderie which extended to the rest of Uhtred's people. His brother, the massive Vikingr, Ragnar. The nun, Hild, who carried a sword like it was an extension of herself. Uhtreds oathman, Sihtric, who was the prettiest man Finan had ever seen, perhaps even more so than Uhtred himself.

He couldn't have imagined that he would swear an oath which bound him to this land. To this Lord whom he had shared captivity with.

To let his new Lord into his bed, this heathen man who knew no shame in his desires and who consumed Finan heart and soul.

Or allowing the same to his Lord's ever present shadow. The younger man was a lover as eager and devoted as any he had ever taken to his bed.

Finan couldn't have imagined himself to be so blind. To not see the signs he should have known so well after his own years in captivity.

How the boy lived up to his moniker, was a shadow at his Lord's side. How he stayed silent and out of the way, rarely noticed and never heard unless intentional. How he would flinch at voices raised in anger or flying fists. How he would throw himself head first into danger to defend his Lord and the Irishman's life.

He couldn't have imagined how he didn't see it when the young man joined them in their bed games. How eager he was to please but hesitant to receive any pleasure in return, like it was foreign and unnerving to him.

How attentive their young lover was to their every need. No hesitation as he went to his knees or presented himself on all fours, face pressed to the bed, body shaking.

Finan had always believed it was out of anticipation and the thought that it might not be made bile rise in his throat.

He couldn't have imagined how he was released from slavery himself only to miss how he was facilitating the slavery of another. How he never thought to ask and had only assumed.

He couldn't have imagined it would take someone else calling the boy such for him to see how blind he had been.

#the last kingdom #finan #finan the agile #sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #finan/sihtric #finan x sihtric #m/m

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namelessbutters-doodles · 4 months

Text

''Let me Worship, You. The Star Prince.''

Characters : Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Velvet Von Ragnar.

Pairing : Stardemon/ Vonstar

Setting: Mid 80s

Au: Never Too Young to Die Au (Good Route).

Summary: ''I will not repeat those words, You've said in there Paul but I want to know....'' Velvet gently turns Paul's face towards her, seeing his sadden look. Wiping the tears that were threatening to fall away before they do, stroking his cheek. Paul opens his eyes, looking at her. sniffling a little.

''Do you really think that? About your body and Yourself?'' She asked.

She asked it. The inevitable thing he didn't to be asked yet it happened, it was out now. Right there...

Right out in front of him.

The question....

Do you really think that? About your body and yourself?

Was finally out.

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

⚠️Warnings: Body worship, Nudity, Angst, Comfort, Oral Sex Implied, Body dysmorphia, Negative thinking, Self hatred, Words of affirmation, Open/Ambiguous ending, Gentle touches, Cunnligous, Ask to tag, This was supposed to be a moodboard wtf-

AlsoOnAo3

''Let me worship, In a way you deserved to be worshipped...''

Velvet muttered,

Looming over Paul on the bed. Directly on top of him, staring directly down at him with nothing but care in this little world of there's. Staring at him as he stares in awe and scared of her, wearing nothing but a towel.

Scared of her seeing his body.

Coming out from a long shower, then being pushed onto the bed by her before he can think or speak. Confused at first on why she pushed him until she spoke to him in a way that made him stay quiet for a while, tears that almost started appearing. Lips quivering, throat clamping a little.

''Is that, what you think of your body?'' Velvet kindly asked, watching Paul's face changed. She moves a few curls out of the way, to get a better look at him.

''Wh-what d-do you mean?'' Paul Questioned, tightening the fluff of fabric against him. So nothing would show, nothing was showing but he did it anyway and she noticed.

She sighed.

''I've heard you, y'know?'' His eyes widen, turning his face away from her. Avoiding her stare and the question, focusing on the window beside him. ''In the bathroom, You were....''

Paul shuts his eyes, trying to shut her out.

''You were hurting yourself with words, in a way I've never imagined you to say. Degrading your body and perhaps mind with words that shouldn't never be uttered from anyone or to you for that matter...''

But he couldn't, he never could when she was around.

''Telling yourself you look horrendous in the mirror while looking exceptionally gorgeous, pointing out the things that may seem like flaws to you or the things on your body that been there since the beginning or starting to appear, while may seem awful to you but it's special to me....''

She goes on and on, proclaiming words to him while he lays there just taking the things she's saying. Gulping when she says the words like Beautiful, charming, pointing out some of thing that she thinks are radiant to her until...

''I will not repeat those words, You've said in there Paul but I want to know....'' Velvet gently turns Paul's face towards her, seeing his sadden look. Wiping the tears that were threatening to fall away before they do, stroking his cheek.

Paul opens his eyes, looking at her. sniffling a little.

''Do you really think that? About your body and Yourself?'' She asked.

She asked it. The inevitable thing he didn't to be asked yet it happened, it was out now. Right there...

Right out in front of him.

The question....

Do you really think that? About your body and yourself?

Was finally out.

Silenced filled the air except for the harsh rain hitting against the glass windows between them. Velvet sat up, waiting. Waiting the answer she doesn't want to hear or know but it's...

There. Right there in front of her, Laying down on the blankets in nothing but a towel concealing everything. Concealing the answer and thoughts. Thoughts that she sometimes wish she could enter and change them but couldn't, she wish it did work like that but it would never be.

Concealing his face with his hands to hide the expression that was starting to show from within him. Trying not to shake yet couldn't contain the muffled cries and wheezes that were coming out from him.

The air was soon filled with it.

Velvet watched him cry, tears staining the blankets. Fingers becoming wet from covering his face. Wheezes coming from him.

It Pained her to seem like this, to seem him cry. To see him...

Like this.

She reached her hand out to touch him and to hold him but pulled it back away not to startle him or make it worse.

She sat there hearing those cries until he went by her and thus letting her touch him. Letting her hold him as tears began to show on her, petting his head gently.

Crying into her chest, staining her clothing with tears and possibly ruining as well but Velvet didn't care about that.

It was just clothing, replaceable.

But unlike clothing, people weren't.

XxXx

The crying went away as soon as Paul calmed himself, wiping his tears and fixing himself. Laying his head in Velvet's lap as she gently stroke his hair.

He felt calmer now than before, the tears had stopped except for a few. Throat not clamping up, Lips were still quivering but not bad like it was before. He was good except...

it was out there.

However, the answer was still not said but he knew and Vel Definitely knew it as well. Knew from the way Paul reacted, Knew how everything just went, Just Knew from the feelings and the words that came from Velvet minutes before...They...

Just Knew, And It was time for Velvet to let him know how much love his body brings her the joy and appreciation it does, starting by moving there positions to be more accommodable and Going...

Slow.

For him.

Paul laid under her as he stared at her, holding the towel against him more as she leans towards him. Looking at him softly until he pulled her in with his lips slowly. Kissing her gently as her hands went up to hold his face. Pulling him in as well, tongues going over and touching each other.

Lathering them with saliva, Biting and pulling there lips with teeth. Mainly Velvet's doin with her fangs, but he didn't mind it. It felt good feeling those against his lips. letting pierced his skin, feeling her tongue licked up the blood from the small punctures.

Getting more heated, as they kissed each other. Paul hands went away from the towel the minute, his heat was starting to come, a fire within him starting. His hands grabbing Vel's face. Pushing her face against him more...

Until she yanked the towel away from, revealing his body. Rendering him nude as day.

''Velvet!!! What r'u-Mph!!!'' He yelled, being interrupted by a kiss from her for a long while until they pulled apart for some air, breaths hot and steamy from the action that happened.

He tried grabbing the pillow but was stopped before he can do so, his wrist being grabbed by Velvet. Pinning them above his hand, He looks at her with a worry expression.

''What are you doing?'' He nervously asked, trying to cover himself but it was no use. The blankets were all squabbled up, pillows were pushed far away. Towel was on the floor and Most of all,

The window wasn't covered, letting sunlight in. covering them both with it's presence, Velvet look monstrous yet enticing while Making Paul look like a Prince.

A heavenly prince.

An prince, who deserved to be worshipped.

Velvet doesn't say a word, letting her head drop by Paul's right ear. Mouthing the scarred parts of it and the skin, licking and suckling on it making Paul hold his breath for a while until she pulled away leaving little bites trailing down.

''Vel-velvet, wha-Ah!'' He cried, Feeling her tongue licking his tits. Doing the same thing she did to his ear but gripping the chest hair that was growing from him. Mouthing the tits like she was thirsty, using her one hand while the other was holding Paul's wrist down.

Lathering them in her saliva, kissing them passionately then roughly. Letting her other hand go, both of her hands squishing Paul's tit's together. Pushing her nails, into the tip of them. Making Paul let out a feverish moan, the fire becoming stronger bit by bit.

She then went towards his stomach, where his knees were hunched up. Covering the lower half of his body, concealing some of the parts he was mainly sensitive about.

Velvet look down at him, putting her hands on his knees. Rubbing her fingers against the skin, feeling the little hairs that were soon starting to grow.

She looks up at him, he was covering his face with a pillow. Breathing feverly into it, trying to conceal his moans from the gentle touches and kisses he was receiving. Face flushed, eyes half lidded even watery.

He looks up at her, twitching. Hating how sensitive his body was from her touches and how it's reacting to them. He never knew how really sensitive his body was until she entered the picture.

Her rough and sharp hands against his soft body did wonders to him, he never imagined such roughness would ever feel splendid to him, but it did and...

He loved it, just he was loving the touches he was receiving slowly bit by bit.

Warming up to them, as he warmed up to her.

Yet, wanting to know more why she was doing this to him. Why she was giving him such tenderness and love to a body like this, a body he disliked from the negativity from others he received in the past. A body that was put through hell time and time again, A body that was almost destroyed in a brutal encounter nearly dying.

A Body he wanted gone, but right now....

He's not too sure about it, from the Attention Velvet's giving him.

In a quick flash, Velvet open his legs. Revealing himself entirely, Almost going down on him on his hairy cunt before Paul yelled, reaching his hand out.

''Wait!!'' Hand almost making contact with Velvet's hair, a inch away from it. inches away from grabbing it, it was like a lifeline. A lifeline for him to get a response from her.

A response he deeply wanted to know...

From her.

Velvet stops and looks at him, her hands holding his legs open until letting them go gently. letting them sit on each side of her while she was in the middle looking directly up at him from below.

Breathing slowly, Paul sat up. Looking down at her, seeing her nestled between his legs looking alluring as ever with that face of hers, the face that brought up so many emotions and feelings within he couldn't ever explained even when asked.

Getting extremely shy or nervous, when it's about her.

Velvet stared at Paul in silence, just watching him and waiting for him to speak. Deep in thought until....

''Wh-Why?'' Paul questioned, Hair covering part of his eye.

''Why what?''

''Why are you doing this to me? Touching me with your hands and lips on my body when it looks bad? Giving me kisses, kisses I don't deserve from a person like you? A Kind and sweet person Planting them on things I hate. Caressing me and being gentle, when I know i don't deserve it? Being soft and...Gentle...

''With me?''

Velvet looks at him intensely, listening to him as speaks.

''Why can't you see the things that I see? What do you see in me and my body that I can't see? Why are you treating it with such love when I can't even love it?'' He croaks, tears starting to appear but he wipes them away.

''Why are you being....Kind to me, when I can't even do that....

''Just....why?'' He softly asks, sniffling. Watching Velvet for a while until she goes up to him slowly, at his level. Face to face, She moves the curls away from his face. Seeing the wrinkles, eyes bags and whatever he has that may be bothersome to him but isn't to her.

Deep in thought, she strokes his cheeks gently. Watching him look at her, wondering why she was doing this to him. As she was giving his body the attention it deserved when he think it doesn't when it does deserve it. The way his body reacted so positively to her touches was astonishing, Never before she touched someone and they yelp or moan from just being touched or kissed.

It seems like no ever, did that to him. Never giving him any gentleness or the worshipped he deserved. It seems....Like....

His body was always craving for anything to be touched by and how he wanted to be touched at times but never spoke about it or ignoring what he truly desire or crave....And.....

It's about time for her to change that.

''Why, You ask?'' Velvet goes, Seeing Paul nod.

''Yes...Why?'' Paul questioned, gulping.

''Because....''

She leans closer to him, her hand resting on his inner thigh. Looking down at it for a while before she spoke....

''Because someone like you deserved to be touched and worshipped, A prince that deserved to be showered with appreciation and be touched with it as well. A prince who looked radiant no matter what they look or feel, always bring such brightness when around...''

''A body n mind that been through the toughest of times, that may be shattered to you but you hold it together with one piece of it that you always had and will carry around with you forever until the end of time....''

''A-and what is that?'' He asked.

''Yourself.''

''Vel, what do you mean?'' He eyes her.

''Despite what you may think about yourself, your body, mind and everything about you. I think differently about it, even you don't see it for yourself. I do and others may too, but Mainly me....''

''I see the things, you can't see. And i want you to know what i see, after all this time. I want you to know how much i love you and your body when you don't at times, i want you to know....

''How much you deserved..it..when you think the opposite.''

''Velvet....i...''

''Don't say anything'' Shushing him, before going down between his legs. ''I know it may take a long time for you to love your body and you yourself as well but please....

Her eyes become watery, making eye contact with him.

''Let me worship, in a way you deserved to worshipped. Let me treat your body, as you would treat mine. Let me hear that angelic voice of yours's sing when I bring you to edge of ecstasy while the sun sets on the horizon, blessing us both with it's presence...Let me hear....

''The Star prince who should be worshipped, in the night while he sing to the heaven's above. Let him...

Know, how much I worship him in his time of need...''

''Let me Worship, You. The Star Prince.''

Paul stares at in awe, he doesn't know what to say or think to that. He doesn't know what to do until she spoke again.

''So...Paul...''

He looks at up her, heart beating slowly.

''Would you let me worship, like the prince you are? Right here, right now? Giving you the attention your body craves, yet you craved the most, Hearing you cry out in pleasure instead of pain? Would you let...

Me go down on you, the way you want it?''

Silenced filled the room until Paul nodded giving his answer, not saying a word or thought because....He can't...

Not right now, Not when he's being worshipped and beloved by her. Mind frozen, Throat couldn't be used. He couldn't do anything except...Let her worship him...His body...Everything about him.

He was frozen.

''Good boy.''

She said, going down on him. Before saying...

''Repeat after me....''

One lick.

''I'm beautiful.''

Two licks.

''I deserved this.''

Three licks.

''I Matter.''

Fourth lick.

''Sing for me, My Star prince. Sing'' She proclaimed, licking from the bottom to the very top. touching his clit, hearing him Feverly cry out as he was being pleasured while repeating the words quietly at first then louder minutes later. ''Let The world know how angelic your voice is to me and to everyone, granting us with your presence and voice...

''Letting me know.''

And Know he did, as this was the night everyone heard the cries, Moans and the Sweet Angelic voice of a prince, A Star prince. Who was worshipped and pleasured in the night, by a Queen.

A Queen who let him knew, how much his body and Most of all, Him. Brings so much to her, when no one else hadn't...The Queen...

Who Made the Star prince Know...How much he...

Mattered, By....

Worshipping him.

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

I need tissues, didn't expect this to be so long but it was and i really loved it. Anyway hoped you guys, enjoyed this.

Comment, Share, Like this, Anything to show support~

Anyway, hope you have a great night or day (been writing since 6 am XD)!

@elrohare @speckster @angelbambisworld (Happy belated birthday) @starry-eyed-never-satisfied @tanookikiss @kissismybbg0exceptformarkstjohn @simmonsgf @sagii24

@cei606 @insanityisdivine

if you like to be tagged, let me know by inbox or message. If you don't then let me know, reach out to me.

Anyway, going into the hole to cry my eyes from this bye!

;w;

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dreamonseems · 1 year

Text

Líf

The beginning

- Story four of Líf series of one-shot stories, about Ubbe, his reader wife, and their children. Every story will be different but within the same universe. Nothing will be in order just random stories about their lives.

- Ok I made up a place called Raven United so any race reading this can Imagine being the reader.

Summary: Your bought as a slave and tought the way of the vikings.

You stood huddled among the other slaves, your heart heavy with despair. You had been kidnapped from your home in Raven United, taken from your family and everything you knew, and brought to this foreign land to be sold like a piece of meat.

You have been beaten, starved, and forced to endure countless indignities at the hands of your captors. But you refused to let them break your spirit. You were a warrior, trained from birth to fight and to lead, and you knew that you would find a way to escape and reclaim your freedom.

As the slave auction began, You watched in horror as your fellow captives were sold off one by one. Some were bought by wealthy merchants or landowners, others by cruel masters who would work them to death. You knew that you could not bear to suffer the same fate, but there seemed to be no escape from this prison.

And then you saw a figure approach the auction block, a tall, regal woman with eyes that seemed to burn with an inner fire. You later found out It was Queen Aslaug, wife of the great Viking king Ragnar Lothbrok, and mother to the young prince Ubbe.

Aslaug surveyed the slaves on the block with a critical eye, sizing them up, and judging their worth. When her gaze fell upon another slave, a tall, strong man with rippling muscles, you could see that Aslaug was preparing to make an offer.

But then, to your surprise, the young man with piercing blue eyes stepped forward and whispered something in her ear. Aslaug's face softened, and she turned to the slaver and made an offer for you.

The slaver sneered and tried to drive up the price because of his knowledge of you being a princess, but Aslaug was not to be deterred. She paid the price, and you were lifted off the auction block, freed from your chains, and taken away to a new life.

As you followed Aslaug out of the slave market, the handsome young man walked close behind you. You were full of anxiety not knowing what this new life would bring you. You also felt a mix of relief maybe because of the young man with piercing blue eyes and golden hair, who looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, you felt kindness from the young man. you knew that your life was about to change in ways that you could never have imagined.

You were shown around the sprawling compound, were introduced to the other servants, and explained the various tasks that would be expected of you. You listened intently, taking mental notes of everything you saw and heard.

Day after day, you learned the ins and outs of taking care of a Viking household. You learned how to cook, clean, and sew, and you learned how to anticipate the needs and desires of your masters.

But it wasn't just the practical tasks that you had to master. Ubbe took it in his hand to teach you about the customs and traditions of the Viking people, their history, and their way of life. You were taught their language, and how to understand their culture.

As you work, you could feel the watchful eyes of Prince Ubbe upon you. He would often stand in the background, silently observing you as you go about your duties. You could feel his gaze upon yourself, and you could sense that there was something more to his interest than just mere curiosity.

For his part, Ubbe was fascinated by the new slave girl who had entered their household. He had never seen anyone like you before, with your fiery spirit and your determination to make a new life for yourself. He was drawn to your strength and your beauty, and he found himself wanting to know more about you.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, You grew more confident in your role as a house slave. You took pride in your work, and you found that you had a natural talent for taking care of others. But you also never gave up hope on going home and returning to your family.

As you work, you could feel the presence of Prince Ubbe looming ever larger in your life. You tried to ignore the way your heart raced whenever he was near, but you knew that you were fighting a losing battle.

Ubbe found many ways to strike up many conversations. You talked about everything and nothing, and as you spoke, you felt a spark ignite between the two of you.

You knew that it was forbidden to feel this way about a prince, especially one who was so far above your station in your new life. But you couldn't help the way you felt.

As you talked, you could feel the eyes of Queen Aslaug upon yourself, watching your every move. You knew that you would have to be careful if you were going to keep your feelings for Ubbe hidden, but you couldn't help the way you felt.

For better or for worse, you knew that life would never be the same now that you had been taken in by the Viking queen and her family. You were determined to make the most of this new life, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

#fanfiction #fanfic #bjorn ragnarsson #ragnar lodbrok #sigurd #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe x reader #vikings #aslaug #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar #ubbe x you #ubbe lothbrok

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shinjisdone · 1 year

Text

To Soften a Warrior’s Heart (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn; Part 4)

In which you have joined Askeladd’s band…and grow closer to the Son of Thors. Though it is more difficult than anyone can could ever imagine…

[Headcanons of how it would be like to meet and crawl your way into Thorfinn’s heart (based on season 1; both platonic and romantic)]

Part 1 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 14 and how he is at that age

Part 2 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 16/17 + headcanons of growing closer (slightly following s1 story)

Part 3 is here - blooming friendship with Thorfinn (slightly following s1 story)

Part 5.1 is here - sweet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 5.2 is here - other seet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 6 is here - Becoming Canute's guard while Thorfinn accepts your relationship and bond

Part 7 is here - Canute grieving over Ragnar and Thorkell catching up; Thorfinn leaves you alone for revenge

Part 8 is here - Thorfinn wins against Thorkell; Questioning your bond with Thorfinn

Part 9 is here - Meeting Leif and Thorfinn dueling Askeladd; Losing while Askeladd told him the truth of his constant losses

Part 10 is here - Thorfinn and you bound by heart; Promises of Vinland broken and abandoned

[This part will specifically mention: Attempted murder (at you), protective Thorfinn (slightly injured, you'll be okay though), and small headcanons of the aftermath (Thorfinn imagining what would happen if you did die).]

Anyone, Everyone I will Crush Them All...

Thorfinn felt even better in the morning. You were being so considerate to him after last night, at least in a way to not make it obvious to the other bandmates.

But Askeladd wasnt like the others...man got a brain inside that skull.

You stuck by Thorfinn, often glimpsed at him to check on his well-being, talked when something was directed at the both of you.

And if that change wasn't obvious enough, then sharing the same camp, food and pain certainly was. It was interesting to watch this flower bloom.

Anything that touched ones heart can be a drive and a weakness at the same time.

It was only a matter of time. The prince was within arm's reach, just behind the smoke of the wildfire and Thorkell's army.

Thorfinn is truly perfect. Stubborn and foolish, he follows every command as long as he can duel Askeladd in return. Without any hesitation, he buckles up on his horse, lets himself be soaked in water and storm blindly into the enemie's territory all alone. What a perfect tool.

And what a sweet, sweet and perfect opportunity this is.

Askeladd stands on a higher point at the outskirts to 'get a better look at things', he claims. The man stands behind you, tall with his hands on his hips as he watches Thorfinn, with the latter glaring at him in return.

Good.

One hand slides down to the hilt of his sword before raising it. Tilting it to the side, he aimed for your neck.

Thorfinn's eyes widened while you stayed ignorant of what's to come.

The horse brayed in pain as the blonde almost snapped the rein back, pulling towards him and steering it back. Watching Thorfinn's face twist into one of rage, you turned around to see Askeladd's blade coming down for your neck.

With a scream, you stumble as you are yanked back and Askeladd withdrew his sword before the young man could harm him. Thorfinn lets go of your collar as he stands between you and the man.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?!"

More questions are thrown but Askeladd stays unnervingly calm. He clicks his tongue and waves his finger down to the massacre below. Thorfinn should better hurry up.

Seething with his nosetrills flared up and teeth gritted, he snapped his eyes between him and the battle, back to back. Unintelligable grunts leave him and he grabbed your arm (or a fistful of your collar) and hoisted you up with him on his horse - desperately quickly, rough and without explanation.

Your weapon almost slipped out of your hand, feeling too distraught to really focus and the many battle cries around you didn't help.

In fact, you were no help at all. Thorfinn trampled down men that stood in his way and dragged you off it with him as he stood defensively in front of the prince and his soldiers. One hand tilted his dagger upward so he wouldn't scrape you as he once again yanked you behind him.

He is not going to leave you alone with...that senile, old bastard!

What the hell even was that?!

Trying to kill your own bandmate - no, you weren't part of these brutes, you were just following orders for your own benefit but never did you do anything that deserves to have your head chopped off! What was that supposed to be?! How is this of any help?!

He may have hauled you right into the battlefield, in the eye of the storm, in the smoke where out of all people, Thorkell is waiting...but you are safer here.

You are safer with him.

Thank goodness that for whatever reason Thorkell the Tall did not want to fight. His reasonings made no sense nor did you want to understand a monster like him as long as you did not need to battle him...you couldnt deny your relieve despite the stressful ordeal.

The prince seemed unharmed but Thorfinn couldn't care less. He was half-heartedly listening to the retainer and Askeladd (while biting bis tongue on what the hell he did right before the battle) as he kept on glancing to you - until the glances turned to straight up holding onto your shoulders as you were the one harmed. It may have happened due to Askeladd's trick or during the battle or maybe even Thorfinn himself inadvertently hurt you. It's hard to tell after the storm passed but your injury remained.

Thorfinn WILL say something. He would have no qualms about interrupting Askeladd's deal of protecting the prince right then and there or he might say something after that first. Maybe the both of you are on the boat at the back - like you usually are - but instead of talking or joking, you're clinging to your side. It isn't fatal but the fact that it happened through such circumstances is what's getting to the blonde.

"ASKELADD!!!" A ear-piercing scream made the prince and his soldiers jump while said person barely turned around. You're sitting, laying, enduring the pain at the back of the boat as Thorfinn was hunched by your side with his hands balled into fists, teeth gritting. The older man hasn't seen him so angry in years.

"What was the point of that?!" Thorfinn would yell out while Askeladd wouldn't even reply. A mere shoulder shrug or, if he feels like it, an excuse of 'You saw that wrong' or 'My hand slipped' would be all he'd get.

This would anger him more.

No, it's just not 'anger'. The pounding fear he felt when you were just about to be beheaded rooted itself in his heart and irrational fury was born from it. The blonde is confused and scared. Nothing that the leader did made any sense and...he was endangering you. The only thing clear in his mind is that this bastard tried to kill you!

Askeladd tried to kill you! The murderer of his father tried to kill you!

There was no turning back now. Even as empty-headed as the other men are, they notice the harsh shift in the boy's behavior and attempt to calm him down - some are at least, the other (still very oblivious) ones keep asking what the hell the kid's so getting worked up for. You're still alive and it isn't fatal. Give the wound a few days rest and it'll turn into a nice scar.

It's even more troublesome when the band doesn't even know why he's so upset. Due to the smoke and their high trust in Askeladd's leadership, none would think he would ever attempt to kill one of his bandmates (hee hee, if only they knew).

'C'mon, lad, don't be like that', 'You're making a ruckus, we just got the prince', they'd say and if any of them dared to approach with open palms, Thorfinn would be quick to draw out his dagger and throw it at the closest one.

"Don't you dare go near them!"

The men grow uneasy but decide to let you two be. Askeladd hides his little smirk while the prince is wondering what he got into and if it was really worth it.

Thorfinn is too distraught, too furious and too emotional to notice his care for you but his actions made it crystal-clear to everyone. None of the danish soldiers thought that vikings would care so much for each other, especially such young ones.

Not like he can afford to ponder about that now. You're hurt and he needs to patch you up somehow - which he does, poorly so as it is evident from his own scarred body. He isn't quite good at taking care of himself, let alone someone else (he realizes he needs to learn it).

Would let none and I mean, none go near you to tend to you. Thorfinn is just decent at taking care of wounds, only enough to not die from them. Even if it were someone as honest as Björn or a danish doctor on board with the prince, he wouldn't let them. Not after that stunt from Askeladd. Thorfinn's distrust blossomed anew.

No. He will take care of you himself.

During the trip the blonde is hostile if he has to interact with anyone. His entire attention is on you even after he patched up, even if you told him you're fine.

Thorfinn can try as he may but if he were to deny his overprotectiveness of you, no one would believe him. Though, he is being too irrational at the moment that no one wants to talk to him anyway, including you.

If you are distraught yourself, the both of you are quiet but close with Thorfinn keeping his eye on you. He'd do the same if you were angry yourself.

If there is just a hint of sadness or even a tear leaking from your eye (but not falling. You swiftly wipe it off, you can't afford to cry here among vikings. Either it's only going to make you feel worse or you will lose all respect and reputation of the band), Thorfinn would absolutely be pissed. He isn't even thinking of shushing you for crying but instead his anger at Askeladd would only grow. It can't be described.

The son of Thors can't think straight. Everything was going fine until for some reason Askeladd, that bastard, that murderer, was...thinking of beheading you. Why? Why? What was the point of that?

It makes no sense. What's the point in killing someone like you? And the man just looked at him, leered at him with that damned smirk, toying with him, toying with you and now is just sitting there, having captured the prince and...!

He keeps on getting away with this.

First his father...now you.

No. No, he won't.

Thorfinn doesn't realize it. He won't ever admit it to himself because he isn't aware of it, but he doesn't want you to die. Thorfinn didn't want you to die.

Just the thought of it...which he would repress whenever he could, is just...awful. Imagining your body dismembered on the battlefield like the thousands of men he killed is an awful thought to have. That's all he knows.

The young man is hostile through and through. All of this happened in the span of a few hours and he is just expected to be over it?! To turn a blind eye because 'it didn't happen the way he thought' and that your injury isn't 'that bad. You probably were just careless'.

Oh, no. Fuck that.

The mercaneries were able to shake of Thorkell's army long enough to rest for a bit. Night came but that didn't mean they couldn't take their chances when it came to a monster like that. Let the prince rest and calm down and then keep on marching.

With you in tow Thorfinn made sure to stay far, far, far away from the other men, even preferring to sleep deep within a forest, as long as Askeladd can't spy on him with his ugly mug. He is too pissed off to really care about the other dangers lurking around.

Even if you started to feel better after the few hours, for the very first time, Thorfinn will insist on doing everything. He is going to get food, he is going to set up a fire, he is going to keep watch and you are going to rest.

Don't get it wrong though, he isn't saying it in a nice way. While he won't yell or grab you, he is going to sternly order you to stay right there and sleep. Don't even think of being of any help, the way that you are now, you won't be any, anyhow.

He's definitely going to literally look down at you and point his finger at you while saying this.

So, he does as he claimed. Food, warmth and protection are all brought and done by him as he sits close to you.

You're the only one wrapped up in a blanket as Thorfinn keeps watch and cleans his dagger.

You lay down, watching the fire crackle. Thorfinn is quiet.

If you are angry and aggravated yourself, it's best if you don't say anything or else you're going to sour Throfinn's mood more than it already is. In fact, it's better if the both of you stay quiet to digest the whole situation.

If you cry, again, do so silently. Thorfinn won't and can't make an attempt to comfort you. He doesn't know how to on one hand, but also refuses to try for he is too proud and angry to do anything.

However, that doesn't mean he won't notice or won't feel anything over your feelings right now. Having felt death almost brush you, no matter if it came from friend or foe must...feel awful. Your silent tears would let the anger inside him grow but also leave him with his heart falling to his stomach.

Nevertheless, you try to sleep. Laying on your good side, you fluttered your eyes closed, trying to ignore the cold. Though, you really couldn't complain right now. Your stomach is full, the fire was warm enough and you could rest without having to worry...

You glance back up to Thorfinn who was still cleaning his dagger. He seemed calmer than a few hours ago though you could tell that the anger was still bubbling inside of him...just not as strong.

"...Thank you, Thorfinn..." You mumble quietly and if he wasn't wrong, the blonde reckoned he heard a bit of an painful crack in your voice. He stops and looks at you.

Thinking back to the battlefield an slight cold shiver that ran down your back from the sensation of Askeladd's blade. Your face grimaced. Realization hit you that night.

"...You saved me..."

Thorfinn's eyes would widen as well.

It's true...he hadn't really thought what he was doing when charging back. Ignoring the mission.

The young man pouts slightly and doesn't know what to say, especially if you're looking at him with such big eyes. He'd look around as if he's searching for something even if he had no reason to. He simply doesnt want to look at you right now after you said that...

With a small wave of his hand, he brushes the comment, no, the statement off.

"Sleep while you still can. We'll be off before sunrise." He softly let out without sparing you a glance. You can add anything you like but Thorfinn would keep pestering you to rest so you better stop before you start annoying him.

Having no other choice you fall asleep. Thorfinn only looks back at you once he knows you're asleep and can't sense him staring at you. Something akin to a small frown on his face.

He lets a hand hover over your head, he doesn't know why. Once he cant find any proper reason, he lets it rest on the ground. Few men are noisy enough to even reach the deep woods but the blonde doesn't seem to hear them as he's staring at you.

Just as he promised, he kept watch until you all had to go.

The day went on unexpectantly alright.

You and Thorfinn would be at the end of the row, riding on horses the prince still had at his disposal. Only two were left, the other ones didn't survive Thorkell's men. So to test their remaining strength if they could pull the wagon of his highness, and with you two being the youngest and lightest ones of the mercenaries, you were deemed test subjects for the horses. (I just need you two to ride horses...)

You ride in silence, the band marching in front and behind you...but you can't help but glance at Throfinn again and again through the march. Ever since the battle, there has been something eating away at your mind and its bothering you.

Leaning closer to the blonde, you finally ask why he did all of these things. Why he'd go out of his way to do all of this for you...saving you, patching you up, protecting you, feeding you, looking out for you, sticking by you...it was all so much in such a short amount of time. You were helpless and Thorfinn acted like it was his duty to take care of you.

You just needed something. Anything as an answer.

He glanced back at you before quickly staring at the road. "What, did you want to die?" He would let out and nothing more.

You ask again, explaining yourself. It isn't like you don't believe he wouldn't do this for you or - or that you weren't willing to do this for him! It...happened so fast and perhaps you were scared but you've never seen Thorfinn this dedicated to anything else but his revenge before...

He frowns for a bit and stays quiet. He's contemplating on his own, on one hand pondering how to express his feelings and on the other, not really knowing what he feels in the first place.

"I don't want you to die." He kept on staring ahead as he let out in a whisper. Still, he said it like it was a fact.

Your eyes widen and you lean back to properly sit on your horse. Never did you think Thorfinn actively wanted you to die but you never thought you'd...hear him say that either.

Of course. You supposed things made sense now.

"...I don't want to die either." You admitted, feeling a bit low. Obviously, you didn't want to die.

You lean back to the blonde but not as much as before. Your eyes held sincerity even as you sounded a bit blue. "...And I don't want you to die either, Thorfinn".

Finally, he straight up turned to you. There was an unreadable expression on his face even as his brown eyes seemed wider than usual. For a moment something on his visage shifted and he swiftly turned his head away again.

With a low, quiet, seemingly inaudible chuckle, he scoffed; "You're strange".

You almost couldn't believe it as you leaned closer. Was there the slightest and smallest of smiles on Thorfinn's face?

A chuckle of your own escaped you. "You're strange!" Teasingly and with small laughter you let out.

Turning back to you, you were right. This was the first time you saw a genuine smile on his face even if it was faint.

And for him it was the second time he saw this glint in your eyes and warm grin on your face. The first time was when you talked about Vinland.

Aftermath thingies:

A few quick reminders before yall are gonna have to deal with the prince:

Ever since that night where he finally realized that he saved you, Thorfinn has been acting unusually soft with you.

He saved you out of his own will. Not because it will mean he'll get a favor or a duel with Askeladd, it simply meant that he didn't want you to die. There wasn't a single thought running through his head as he attacked the man who tried to harm you (at best. At worst he wanted you dead which is something Thorfinn wholeheartedly believes) even as he was being possessed by his rage. He wasn't thinking when he dragged you with him to the prince, to Thorkell nor did he plan anything through when attempting to patch you up.

He just followed his gut. What he felt.

He caved easily to the rage he felt towards Askeladd and any of the men that did not believe him or dared to mock you both for it. He gave into the belief that right now, injured like that, you were weak and an easy target so he'll take care of things for now. He let the fear muffle his senses when he saw the sword only this close to your neck.

Thorfinn doesn't know if he cares for you. And if he did, then he wouldn't be aware of it. He just doesn't want you to die.

A man as young as him is easily swayed by his emotions.

Was returning his dagger all it took for it to spiral it this way? First a few compromises that turned to favors and now selfless behavior for the other? Was it the slightest speck of respect for his late father, not for his physical prowess but his strength as a person, which he hadn't gotten in years? Was Thorfinn battling the loneliness so hard and desperately that all it took was a soft glint of your eyes and a warm smile when talking about hopes and dreams for him to seek you out?

The image of you dying on the battlefield, butchered and beaten... of the man called 'leader' betray you so cowardly...of you defeated and collected as a 'prize'...it all so angers and frightens him.

Thinking back to that battlefield and imagining how it would be like if you did die...

You would just be another body lying amongst the soldiers and waiting to be reclaimed by the earth as crows take the first bite of your damaged, rotting flesh...

Thorfinn would move on without you. He would be alone again with not a single, upstanding soul by his side. Kindness, jokes and companionship would be no more...

If you died, would his father visit him on his dreams again, telling him he lost his friend?

He cannot explain it but it feels wrong. So much so he feels a disgusting shiver run down his spine just thinking about it.

He gets blinded by his own feelings. And he doesn't even know it.

The lad is like a dog chasing after food, after all.

Theoretically he may confront Askeladd in the middle of a duel (if he gets one in the first place). Asking him what the hell he was thinking, he could have killed you. He would have! Throfinn is sure of it! (No matter what the others say).

In turn, the man just taunts him more, subtly, however. In a way that witnesses might not fully understand, aside from Björn maybe.

(In fact, Björn might be the only one aside from you and Thorfinn who knew what Askeladd was trying to do but he keeps quiet. However, that doesn't mean he approves of his actions. It actually makes him more suspicious on what Askeladd's true feelings about his mercenaries are...)

Back to the taunting, that would anger Thorfinn more than he already was and make him charge at Askeladd without thinking - which, of course, causes him to lose.

This bastard better not mock him! He knew what he saw even if he doesn't understand the intention!

Thorfinn doesnt truly understand that he is being used as a tool. He takes things on a surface level with the way he feels, smells, touches, tastes and sees. And he saw him trying to murder you.

Even so, one day he has to put his issue with that aside if it means having to be the prince's bodyguard while also wanting to get a chance for the next duel. That doesn't mean he will not ever forget waht Askealdd did however...

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solinarimoon · 1 year

Text

On Raven's Wings - Chapter 7

AN: I apologize for such a long absence in updates for this story. I have not abandoned it! Thank you to anyone who is sticking with it.

Warnings: canon-compliant character death, death by fire, amnesia, loads of pent up angst and regret

Word Count: 3.543

Raven’s Masterlist

My Full Masterlist

AO3 if you prefer

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Jerking awake, Liva coughed and covered her nose with her tiny hands. She sat up, continuing to cough and peering over the edge of the loft where she slept. Terror and panic welled up in her stomach and gripped her chest as she cried out. Flames were licking the edges of the long house and sparks rained down from the thatched roof overhead. Smoke was collecting near her, drifting up to the ceiling. Crawling back, Liva cowered against the wall and covered her head with her arms.

“Rag…” she coughed, the smoke burning her throat, “Ragnar! Sigrid!”

“Liva!” She heard Thyra shout followed by a bellow of rage from her grandfather amidst the roar of the fire growing more and more steadily. She looked back over the loft to see them all.

Liva’s hoarse voice cried out again, breaking with a sob for her grandfather. Turning to look up at her, Ragnar stalked over raising his arms.

“Jump to me, child.”

She grabbed up her nightdress around her legs and shifted to the balls of her feet, still kneeling. She coughed harder now. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, streaking through her smoke stained cheeks. Getting her balance, she pushed herself off the ledge into nothingness only to be snatched from the air roughly and firmly a mere moment later. Ragnar crushed her to his chest, brushing his hands through her hair swiftly and resting his forehead against Liva’s own as he settled her bare feet to the floor. The tender moment lasted no longer than a second, before he bodily swung the young girl into the waiting arms of her aunt.

“What do we do?” Thyra pleaded for a solution. “Mother, what can we do?”

Coughing more, Liva buried her face in Thyra’s arms as the young woman looked to her mother. Thyra’s fingers dug into Liva’s shoulders as she hugged the girl from behind, enveloping her and trying to shield her from the panic.

Sigrid looked from her daughter to share a meaningful stare with Ragnar. Stepping forward, she hugged the two girls close while shouting over the sound of the timbers burning and beginning to crash.

“There is a weak spot in the wall, just behind the loom and furs. Air drafts in from the cracks while we sit and weave. Do you remember?”

Thyra nodded her head and gripped Liva impossibly closer. Liva knew of the spot her grandmother spoke of. Often she had fallen asleep laying at her grandmother’s feet, listening to her stories as she wove the yarn Liva and Thyra spent all year spinning. She wove cloth and Liva liked to imagine she wove her stories into the fabric as well. The sound of the weights tethered to the dangling strands shifting along with her fingers as she wove always matched evenly with the cadence of Sigrid’s stories. And the draft from the winds slipping through the cracks in the wall brushed along Liva’s face as she rested.

It was this corner of the home that her grandmother spoke of now.

“It is weak from rot and age and would not burn well. It will give way if forced upon. If the flames have not found it, you can shove against it and make a way out. Go, Thyra. Take Liva and go.”

Ragnar’s voice broke through as he gripped his daughter’s arm in farewell, “Find Uhtred and Brida. Once you are out, run to the woods and find them.”

In the next instant, Liva was on her knees, crouched next to Thyra and pressing herself against the rotted logs in the wall. They were soft and shifted under the weight of their thrusts. With Thyra shoving with all her weight against the logs, Liva scrambled and scratched, digging at the earth beneath the wood. She cried out and covered her head with her hands when a loud crash of a fallen beam landed behind them followed by a whoosh of flames rippling closer.

Thyra shifted herself back from her knees to her bottom and kicked out viciously at the wood. It began to splinter more and soon a hole large enough for them each to squeeze through took shape.

“I’ll go first and you follow,” Thyra gripped Liva’s hands, wiping away the girl's tears and smudging the soot on her cheeks.

She turned and shifted herself, crawling and wriggling to squeeze through the hole. Liva waited tensely, little cries of worry slipping past her lips.

As soon as Thyra was through, Liva crawled forward, slipping her head through the wood and peering around. She saw Thyra standing only two paces away, peering around a corner, looking for any unwanted attention.

Liva’s younger and smaller frame didn’t have nearly as tight fit getting through the hole. But as she scrambled through and cleared the wall, she heard Thyra cry out. Shakily, Liva stood up and watched two men round the corner and grab at Thyra. They looked enormous. Dark and terrifying, silhouetted by the flames of her family's home.

Liva froze in panic. A raging, bellowing sound rang out from the front of the longhouse. Ragnar the fearless was going to Valhalla. Time seemed to stop. Liva was aware of Thyra struggling against the grasping hands of the two men. She was aware of another crash as the roof of their home continued to collapse. She could hear shrieks and cries and shouts all garbled together one over the other.

And then she was running. Straight into the forest. Her bare feet pounding against the undergrowth and her arms pumping at her sides. She was vaguely aware of someone pursuing her. A danger that was tracking her down.

She had never run so hard in her short life. There was a burning in her lungs from the smoke and the ash. There was a burning in her legs from fleeing through the woods in the cold. And a burning in her mind at the terror and confusion waging war on her young psyche.

In a matter of mere minutes, she had awoken to chaos and lost all she held dear in her world. And now she was running for her life. She knew to head towards the hills in the forest to the West. That way led towards the blacksmith’s charcoal fire. It led to Uhtred. But which way was West?

Chancing a glance over her shoulder, Liva gasped hard seeing her pursuer looming in the distance. His legs were longer but hers was a child’s stamina and she fled for her life. Liva turned back and continued running, clambering up a steep hill to her right.

Up.

Up towards the hills.

When she reached the top, she turned sharply back again crouching and looking for any sign of the man. Her breath came in quick, shallow rasps. She quickly wiped sweat and soot and tears from her eyes, trying to clear her blurred vision. Smoke from the burning hall was melting amongst the trees and shrubs of the forest. Giving her a final shelter and hiding her path from the man.

She thought she could hear him crashing around and fading away, but she was too scared to risk moving to look. Minutes passed. Only a few brief minutes, but Liva stifled her coughs and tears until she could hold them at bay no longer. Choking on the smoke and the grief, the child stood and looked to the sunrise. A sun rising over the still flaming remains of the hall of Ragnar. Sobbing, Liva stepped back. A sudden and intense need to flee gripping her.

Continue West. Uhtred and Brida will have seen the smoke. They must have heard the screams. She knew she must find them. Stepping back again and shifting to turn, the leaves under her toes slid and gave way. She fell, tumbling a short ways before something hard smacked her head and then the smoke filled her vision until all she saw was black.

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Hiding a shaky breath by sipping her wine, Liva paused and looked up at the faces of those surrounding the table. She found the words had come easily once she had started. Keeping her eyes down, staring unfocused at the wood of the table, the events of that night had tumbled from her lips. A story that wanted…that needed to be told.

But she knew these next words, the questions left unanswered would not come so easily.

“That is terrible, Liva.”

It was Osferth who spoke first. Liva gave a short nod in agreement at the simple truth from the gentle and comforting presence of the warrior monk at her side.

Hild found her voice next, also offering support and condolence.

“It is a miracle you survived such a horror.” Liva looked up to see a genuine concern radiating from her.

A large, calloused hand reached out to grasp her own. Uhtred squeezed her hand tightly, but she could not meet his eye. She could not face whatever thoughts would show on his face.

Liva’s chest had begun to tighten and she was fighting back a large lump growing in her throat, when Finan spoke up from the other end of the table.

Clearing his throat, the Irsihman asked what Liva felt sure they all wished to know.

“So what happened to you after?”

Liva found herself staring at Finan and unable to answer his question. The silence around the table grew.

“You hit your head. What happened after? When you woke up?” he clarified, trying to guide a response from her. Trying to get her to answer the question at the front of everyone’s mind. For the briefest moment, Liva’s focus shifted beyond Finan.

Sihtric sat, arms folded across himself with tense shoulders and his jaw firmly set. His stare did not move from his plate.

Liva opened her mouth to speak but found her throat constricted and dry. She took a sip of her wine, lowering her eyes and fixing her gaze on her own hand fidgeting with the rim of her goblet.

“I do not think you will accept my answers,” she replied, finding a strength and steadiness to her voice that surprised her.

Uhtred still said nothing. Only squeezed her hand again. She still could not look at him.

It was Hild who reassured her.

“We may surprise you, Liva.”

Live chanced a glance up to meet Hild’s face. She saw nothing but genuine concern. Another slow breath and then she continued, haltingly. Her words unsteady and unsure.

“My truth is that I do not know what happened to me. I only know that the next I remember…my next solid memory is standing at the edge of a field. A man with a bow kneeling in front of me, asking me what happened. It was Gallen. And he and his wife took me in and raised me. Everything else in between…”

She shrugged her shoulders. Lifting her face to meet Finan’s face and then HIld’s she let her silence grow.

“So you remember nothing,” Finan questioned her, not unkindly but with a clear skepticism at her confession. “Nothing from the time you knocked your head to when someone found you?”

Liva nodded, “I remember nothing of meaning. Or nothing that makes sense anyway. The memories,” she paused, worrying at her lip, “they’re like ghosts. Not truly there. When I try to remember them they fade away. Always at the edge of my sight and never full on. They are a child’s memories. Jumbled and confused. Lots of green leaves and trees and brush. And small hands covering my own. And,” she stopped shaking her head slightly and knotting her brow in concentration. She shook her head again, more firmly then continued, “I feel sure someone helped me in the forest. You can see the scar just below my hairline.”

Liva ran her fingers through the fine, flaxen strands that framed her face brushing them back to reveal a faint white mark. She fingered it gently and continued, “it would have bled a lot with how hard I must have hit it. It remained bruised and swollen for days and days. But when Gallen found me, my face was clean and a bandage was wrapped around my head.”

“Perhaps it was Hlin, the protectress guarding your life in the wood.”

Skade picked up her cup and leaned back from the table. The woman had listened quietly to Liva’s story, her face betraying no emotion. But now she continued, the fanatical craze growing in her eyes, “Or it may have been Vithar. Silence and Revenge. These are his domain.”

“I have never sought out revenge,” Liva sneered. Her words spoken as much to herself as to the woman across the table.

“Not looked for it, but would have taken it had the chance presented itself. No,” Skade smirked in agreement, “but something has stolen your memories from you. And why would your mind need those thoughts removed?”

Before Liva could bite back a remark across the table, Osferth’s soft voice pushed back against Skade’s musings.

“She was a child with a head wound. And some kind soul helped her.”

“Baby monk is right,” Finan interjected, quickly chancing a glance towards Uhtred at the head of the table. “It is often so in battle after someone gets a good, hard hit to the head. Things grow fuzzy.”

Hild spoke up in Liva’s defense next, offering Liva a warm smile, “And I think it matters little if a person can remember all the details from an event that is years since past and held so much pain already. What matters is that a sister who was lost is now found.”

Liva’s brow furrowed slightly although her mouth slid upward in a timid smile at the group’s easy defense of her story. Accepting her truth on its face. She had not anticipated such kindness. And even with the guarded reserve coming from Sihtric and the instigating remarks from Skade, Liva was glad to have spoken her story aloud.

“I am sorry, little bear.”

Uhtred’s words broke through her thoughts and his hand gripped hers tighter. He had remained quiet while she spoke. So his voice, quiet but firm at her side startled her.

She sensed there was more her brother wished to say, but his voice was not cooperating. She squeezed his hand in return and gave him a sad smile.

“Well since we are telling stories, Munnin,” Sihtric’s voice, quietly slinked from the end of the table, lilting and full of the weight of mead.

Finan scoffed and shifted back in his chair, putting a heavy hand on Sihtric’s shoulder and muttering under his breath, “Och, will ye no leave anything alone tonight, ye little shit.”

Quickly, Osferth stood to help as Finan muscled Sihtric out of his chair and began ushering him out of the hall. Uhtred, Hild, and Skade all watched on, each with varying looks of anger, shock, or enjoyment playing across their faces at the chaos that arose.

Liva quickly stood, her chair toppling backwards and clattering onto the ground. The calm and peace she had felt from giving voice to her story about the hall burning replaced instantly by the same sharp anger she had felt in the forest when she and Sihtric had both drawn their blades.

At the sound of her chair hitting the floor, Osferth’s had turned, his attention distracted, allowing her to step past him.

Stepping up to Sihtric, Liva planted her feet. Her hands were curled tightly into fists at her side and she clenched her teeth as she looked up to meet the Dane’s eyes.

Carefully, Finan tried to place himself between them, but with Sihtric staggering he only succeeded in placing an arm between the pair while supporting Sihtric and stopping Liva from stepping closer.

“Go on then, Kjartanson.”

If he was back to calling her that bloody raven then she would name him his father’s son. Her words struck their mark and she watched as Sihtric’s eyes that had been fogged over from drink snapped to red hot focus.

“Ask me your questions from the woods again. There is no knife at my throat this time,” she glowered, “I will give you answers.”

She was vaguely aware of Uhtred’s own chair crashing to the floor as he stood up at her remark. There was a scuffling and bodies shifting noisily and in an instant Osferth and Hild were between Uhtred as the man stalked towards the three.

Liva and Sihtric’s eyes bore into one another, laced with rage. Finan tried without success to maneuver between them or pull them apart.

“Ask me,” she shouted, while she felt Hild’s arms come around her waist and try to pull her away.

“Why weren’t you at Dunholm,” Sihtric bellowed back, forcing himself forward and out of Finan’s hold.

In an instant, his face was in hers. So close his forehead pushed back on hers for a moment.

“Bloodhair brought his people to Dunholm. We were there. And Ragnar was there. But little Liva, Little Munnin was nowhere to be seen.” His words were full of biting ferocity. Liva felt spittle fly from his lips. His rage fanned her own anger and the confession spilled from her lips just as furious tears ran down her cheeks.

“I was there!” She roared.

Sihtric’s face flashed from anger to shock and confusion. The shoving and disorder surrounding them faded at her words as they all registered what she had said.

Liva allowed the tears to continue to roll down her face as she choked out her next words.

“I was at Dunholm. I saw you,” she shoved him hard once in the chest and he took a step back into Finan’s arms.

“I saw all of you,” she turned and looked at the faces of the people around her.

“Then why not reveal yourself then, Liva? Why not…. To Ragnar?”

She could hear the confusion, a stunned pain in Uhtred’s questions.

She turned towards him, half lunging and half collapsing into Hild as she cried.

“Because I was a coward, Uhtred.”

Sobs choked her words.

“Because my father abandoned me long before our home was burned to ash. And because,” she looked past them all to see Skade standing on a chair to better see their quarrel. The woman grinned her self-satisfied grin, reveling in the chaos.

“Because I let the witch’s words worm their way into my mind. She gave me fear and doubt and it is why I lost any chance to ever speak to my father again. And it is why I am loath to see others heed any vile lies that spill from her lips.”

Liva pushed herself away from Hild. The abbess had held her and steadied her since gaining her side. But now, Liva wrestled herself away and gave no moment’s pause before letting her anger move her forward.

Snatching a dagger from Finan’s hip, Liva rushed at Skade. She swung the blade high, aiming for anywhere she could strike.

Warrior reflexes on high alert, Uhtred was on her in an instant. His arm wound around her waist, while his other grabbed her wrist, forcing her to drop the blade.

It all was over in mere moments. Liva slumped against Uhtred’s chest and grasped to hold onto his arms as he enveloped her from behind.

The only sound came from the logs burning in the hearth and their own heavy breaths while they all processed the last several minutes.

Tears still flowed down Liva’s face, unchecked. When she looked up, it was Sihtric’s face, his eyes on her that she could not turn away from.

His brow was ridged in bewilderment and uncertainty. And his eyes looked on her more softly.

A chuckle from Skade to their backs broke the quiet. She stepped down from her chair and wound herself around to Uhtred’s side, placing her hand atop Liva’s own. Liva’s rage had quelled but she felt the anger burn bright again at the feel of Skade’s hand on her skin.

“Though you say you do not seek out revenge, Liva Ragnarsdottir, does not mean you will not avenge when opportunity strikes. Perhaps avenging Ragnar is the path the Gods have laid at your feet. Whether you seek it or not.”

Liva could not stay to hear any more of Skade’s lies. She wanted to argue with her. Strike out at her again. Scream and cry and tell her and everyone else in the room that she did not care what path the gods set before her.

She wanted to tell them all how she had watched them from the rafters of the roof at Dunholm as they sat together and schemed. She wanted to yell that she had instead turned her back and ran. That she was a coward.

Instead, she twisted herself away from her brother and stalked past everyone’s staring eyes. She flung open the door to the hall and as she walked away, she heard the sound of more scuffling along with HIld and Osferth pleading with Uhtred. There was a sound of flesh hitting flesh and a body dropping to the ground with a grunt.

She did not turn around to see who had been hit.

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