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#grimeundglow
underragingwaves · 1 year
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I'm very excited to show y'all the art I have made for the really engaging fic The Mental Tyrant, which was written by @bouncehousedemons for the @vikingsbigbang Winter Event '22! Please go give this Ivar-centric nugget all the love, it's a thrilling ride. 🥰
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therealvikingstrash · 2 years
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖
Oh goody, today is a very love filled one and I actually dig that a lot 💕
Kings of Kattegat is my very Explicit entry for the VBB22 and I gotta say this is probably one of the most self-indulgent fics I've ever written in this fandom and I love it. I got to have Amma/Ubbe, Amma/Hvitserk and Hvitserk/Ubbe in this poly ship. Pure heaven! Also, Gunnhild got herself someone special too, who is definitely not a potato and so much more...
Death awaits the Rude is a Gen/Mature fic that resolves around Aslaug and her sons Ubbe and Hvitserk. It's very much something I could envision given their bond and love for one another. Kind of a mother-sons character and relationship study?
Of Sharp Teeth and Hunger is Explicit not only due to smut, but also gore and horror themes which are all throughout the series. Yes, I love it, cause I could play with the Ragnarssons as supernatural/mythological creatures and write somewhat of a character study with them as monsters, literally. It was fun to find ways to keep it canon-ish. Also, I got to hop from one characters mind to the others.
Salvation in Gold was the second fic I uploaded in this fandom and I recently edited it and redrew the picture. I liked the idea before and I love the new version even more. The fix-it fic I didn't find anywhere and decided to write myself, tbh.
Gifts and Jewelry is an Explicit Ubbe/Aud fic. The very first time I wrote her as well, so it was an experience to figure out how to write a character we saw so little of. I was unsure of it at first, but once it flowed it was fun to write them together and I'm proud of the outcome.
phew, it was actually hard to pick...I knew one (KoK) and then my brain went blank, but now when I look at this assortment, I'm happy with it. 🥰
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serasvictoria · 2 years
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖
Oh lord. Why would you ask me this. This is so hard! That’s why it took me a while to answer this. But since @adrille88 also sent me this ask, I take it that you guys must really want to know 🤣 so here goes.
I've Got Dreams to Remember (Incubus Hvitserk x Reader) - Where do I even begin with this one? I have no idea where it even came from, but I’m glad that it presented itself (so to speak) because I absolutely love this story. It’s like nothing that I had ever written before, a genuine “this only happens once” type of thing, which makes it very special.
Aquarius (Hvitserk x Anglo-Saxon Reader) - This one was the result of a good hard think about how clean Viking men were. Suddenly Hvitserk reared his head to tell me exactly how much he washed himself. So I just let him run with it! Took me a while to finish it, but I’m still very pleased with the end-result.
My Queen (Ubbe x OFC) - This one deserves a mention because of the awesome OFC! She had such a strong voice from the start. Not kidding, she was just there all of a sudden. It was loads of fun to write, because Sigrid and Ubbe worked so well together and it’s a story that I’ll definitely try to revisit in the future.
Stupid Games (Hvitserk x Reader x Ubbe) - I just have to mention this one, because it’s my baby in a way and what will probably end up becoming my biggest WIP. I thought that this was just going to be a simple thirst write in which the Reader character gets it on with the brothers, but then it turned into so much more along the way. That’s what you get when characters drag feels into it I guess.
Hoya Kerrii (Chuck Grant x OFC) - This one was the result of many viewings of Gardener’s World and it had me thinking that Chuck could easily be a gardening guru. This was also the first time where an AU made sense to me I think? Because I seem to recall that this was the one where I went “ohhhhhhh, so that’s how it works.”
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author-morgan · 2 years
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Please may I have a snippet of the Harald-Halfdan_WIP on your list?
Here's a snippet! Also here's another snippet for this one.
When Halfdan emerges from his brother’s pavilion, the sword in his hand is smeared with fresh blood. He frees a cloth from his belt and slides it down the blade, cleaning it with a single long swipe as he looks at you, leaning against a tree, watching and waiting. He doesn’t have to say anything as he approaches for you to know, but regardless, your lips quirk upward. “Told you,” you remark, knowing Ellisif would not have so easily nor quickly forgave Harald for his transgression.
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quantumlocked310 · 2 years
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Fan fic based assumption: you have a tendency to care too much or not at all (I based this assumption on the emotional situations you place your characters in)
I am indeed a pendulum of care!!!
I found the link! Give me assumptions based off my fics
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istorkyou · 2 years
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When We Were Wild (Modern!Ivar AU)
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A Modern!Ivar x F Reader.
Warning - Childhood neglect. Mentions of drug use. Violence. Implied sexual assault. Alcoholism. Mentions of vomiting. Mentions of sex.
Synopsis - Best friends until….
Note - Everything in italics is a flashback.
Word count - 8642 (ooops....)
As always, massive love to @punkrocknpearls​ for talking me through this, the amazing beta (pretty sure she got the characters better than I did!) and for the fabulous moodboard above. You da BEST!
Tag List - As always, let me know if you want on or off.
@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls @youbloodymadgenius @momowhoo @zuxiezendler @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer @pieces-by-me @heavenly1927 @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy @petite-hime @serasvictoria @mimiiinspace @itsmysticalmystery @lonewolf471 @mylifeisactuallyamess @grimeundglow @draculasbride-blog @love-all-things-writing @southernbe @redhead7799 @kaybee87 @ivarlover @ivarhoegh @freydis-tyrsdottir @idgafiamallthefandoms @darkphoenix5037 @profoundtyrantharmony @snarling-through-our-smiles​
Masterpost
Chapter 1 
CHAPTER 2
You finish work and see a message on your phone from Ivar as you head out the door and onto the street.
Coming over after work? Bring Doritos. And beer. I have news.
When you finally get to his house he’s waiting at the door like an excited puppy. 
“Shitball! Guess what!” Ivar’s voice is high with excitement. 
You push your way past him to get into his house. “Move it. I need to pee! The traffic was a nightmare and I’m desperate.” You run past him, dumping the snacks and drinks on the counter. Annoyingly, he follows you to the bathroom, so you slam the door in his face. 
“I said guess what!?” He is shouting through the door.
“Can I piss in peace? Leave me alone.”
“Just GUESS!” he shouts again. 
“You have been crowned the world's most annoying asshole?” you yell at him as you flush, wash your hands and open the door. 
“Bjorn is engaged! Again!” Ivar shouts in your face.
“No he is not! He is NOT!!” Your bellowing laugh echoes down the hall. “What is this, the fifth time?” You start to laugh hysterically. “He’s such a fucking idiot, he does realise he hasn’t got to marry every woman he sticks his dick in, right?” 
Ivar laughs now and holds his hand up for a high five. “Thank god I have you. Ubbe and Hvitserk wouldn’t shit talk about it but I knew you would! Let’s bet on how long this one will last.”
“How long was the last one, six months? He will go longer this time, bet you a steak dinner.” You hold your hand out so he can shake it and seal the bet. 
“It’s on.” He grabs your hands and crushes it as he shakes it. “So, engagement party?”
“I’m not coming to another one,” you tell him flatly. “Do not give me that face. It’s exhausting being around you when you are with your family. I feel like I’m always tugging you away from the edge of a massive meltdown. You are horrible around them and I can’t be arsed with it.” 
You’ve told not one lie. Ivar Lothbrok is not the same Ivar you know. When he is around his family, and actually mostly anyone, he’s such a miserable, wound up person you barely recognise him. He goes into work mode. And work mode Ivar is your least favourite Ivar. He’s always ready to snap around them. He despises his brother Sigurd, hates Bjorn and his mother Lagertha, and has so many issues with his father that you stopped talking to him about them years ago. He gets on OK with his two other brothers Hvitserk and Ubbe but only just. He is angry and nasty around them and it pains you to watch it. He seems to always be waiting for something bad to happen.
“That’s why you have to come with me. I need you there so I don’t commit a violent crime. Come on, you have to come. Everyone is expecting you there anyway. Here.” He leans past you to the kitchen counter and passes you the envelope. “See, it’s addressed to us both. Come on, please come. My trusty sidekick.”
“Uh, if there is any side kick in this friendship it’s you, I’m the level headed, mature protagonist trying to keep you in line. You are the Walter Sobchak in this,” you correct him, motioning between the two of you.
“The best character in the movie? Correct. You are coming with me and that’s all there is to it.” He looks at you with a deep frown.
“Oh fucking fine I will then, wipe that shitting look of your face. Ivar, you have to at least try this time. I’m being serious about it being draining on me and I hate seeing you like that.” You mean it and he knows it. “I know your family isn't exactly easy but it’s not a work thing. I wouldn’t be there if it was, you know that.” 
“I wouldn’t have you there if it was, you know that.” Ivar mirrors your language to emphasise his point. “I will try. I will stay away from Sigurd at the very least,” he sneers at his name.
“God I hate Sigurd. He’s such a twat.” you sneer as well. 
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The party's at a predictably upmarket venue: a grand hotel, the party is in the grounds, around a pool. It’s beautifully decorated with a million pink flowers in giant white vases. There are lots of waiters passing round tiny, bite sized food and champagne. Everyone is dressed in their best suits and dresses and you are pleased you chose to wear your trusty long red gown when you saw the address of the party. You look the part even if you don’t feel it. 
The hotel is between yours and Ivar places, a little closer to his posh area than your own downtown flat so you agree to meet there. When you get there you skulk around the edge of the party trying to avoid everyone, grabbing a champagne from a passing waiter. You try to like champagne, but you just can’t. You walk to one of the bars and order a gin and tonic and turn around trying to find him. It doesn’t take you long to spy him on the other side of the pool.
You watch Ivar stalk around the party. His whole demeanour is different in this sort of setting. You can see the tension in him, in his shoulder, in his jaw; his expression is one of extreme irritation. You watch him knock back two shots of whiskey and look around the place. You see his eyes settle on Sigurd and his lips pull back when Sigurd waves at him patronisingly. 
Fucking Sigurd. 
You watch him throw another whiskey down his throat and pull his phone out. You hear your own phone beep from your bag and you pull it out to see a message from him.
Where are you? I’m getting pissed off on my own.
You let out a huff of laughter and type back.
Stop drinking so many shots, that might help. 
You see his head whip up and scan the room again, finding you standing by the far bar. You see him physically relax at the sight of you and he starts making his way over. You motion for him to stay where he is and that you will come to him; you can see his movements are slower and jerkier than usual, and you know that it isn’t a good day for him. He nods and sits back down.
As you walk around the tables you pass Sigurd, who just can’t help himself. “Off to put a leash on your puppy?” he jeers as you walk past. 
“God you are a shitting bore, Sigurd.” You don’t even bother to look at him. 
When you get to Ivar he is rubbing his knee.
“You alright?” You gesture to his leg. He nods but unconvincingly. “Doesn’t look like it.” 
“Just a bad day. You need a new dress, you only ever wear that one.” He looks you up and down.
“Piss off.” You stick your tongue out and he laughs but winces in pain after.
“Let’s just stay for food and the speech or whatever they have planned and let’s get out of here. We can use your legs as an excuse, yeah?” you offer.
“Yep let’s do that.” He smiles at you gratefully. 
The rest of the night is fine. You stay sitting with Ivar and chat to Ubbe and Hvitserk, go to congratulate Bjorn and his new fiancé, whose name you don't bother to learn; she won’t be around that long and it’s not like you hang out with Bjorn anyway.
You go to talk to Aslaug on your way back to sit with Ivar. You can see she’s drunk, which is not an unusual state to find her in these past few years.
“Hello dear. Ivar OK? He hasn’t moved all evening.” She wobbles slightly and you help her to a chair. “He's lucky to have you. I am looking forward to you giving me grand babies.”
“Aslaug. You know we are friends, nothing more.”
“A mother always knows. A mother sees everything. It’s been in the stars for you and him forever.” She slurs. You want to tell her that surely she can't see anything when she is in her usual Sauvignon Blanc haze but you don’t, she doesn’t deserve your sniping just because being around drunk women triggers you. She's been a mother and father to you over the years. She’s the reason you made it to adulthood, quite frankly, definitely the reason you were able to go into further education and the reason you don’t have angry outbursts like you did when you were a child. She isn’t trying to be annoying, she just wants what’s best for Ivar, her own flesh and blood. She just wants him to be happy. 
“S’important that you fall in love with a nice man. A good man. Not someone like Ragnar…” She motions sloppily to her husband, who is standing a little too close to Lagertha. “Ivar is a good man. You are a perfect match.”
You can’t have this conversation with her. Not again. Ivar needs you tonight, and you don’t need the ghost of this perpetual conversation haunting you while you are trying to help him. 
“I’m going to go and get you some water, I will send someone over, OK?” You put a hand on her arm, and she nods vaguely.
At the bar you stand next to a tall guy ordering a beer. After he has paid you ask the barman for water. 
“You don’t drink?” the stranger asks.
“Hell yeah I do, especially at these things. The water is for my friend's mum. She’s had one too many.”
“Ah, you are Ivar’s friend? I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Aethelred.” He leans in and gives you a kiss on the cheek. 
“That’s me. Nice to meet you. I have to get this bottle of water to Aslaug. Maybe I will see you around?” You smile at him. Nice face, plummy English accent is funny too. You hope you will see him out at a different time. 
You are planning to get Ubbe to help Aslaug but as you walk around the party you just can't help yourself. “Evening Ragnar. Your wife is sitting alone over there. Your current wife I mean,” you tell him, disdain dripping off your tongue. You give Lagertha a quick up and down sweep of your eyes, turn to Ragnar, who is watching you in amusement and raise your eyebrows until he shifts uncomfortably and excuses himself to go to Aslaug. 
“Give her this, Ragnar.” You hand him the water bottle and gesture for him to go and tend to Aslaug. “Go on, I’m sure Lagertha can cope on her own.” You don’t even look at her. 
Ragnar takes the bottle and starts to walk away. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, my dear. I can see why you and Ivar have been friends for so long.” 
“Yes well someone has to look out for him in the absence of others doing their part.” You roll your eyes. 
Lagertha waits for Ragnar to leave before speaking to you. “You don’t like me much do you?”
You feign shock at her words. “God, I thought I was hiding it so well,” you reply before letting your face fall into petulance again. Turning on your heel, you walk away back to Ivar.
Ivar gestures with his head towards the bar. “Aethelred trying his luck? He is a slimy little shit, just so you know. Not sure why he was invited here tonight.”
“Is he? Fuck sake, why am I always attracted to the slimy ones?!” 
“Terrible taste, Shitball.” He looks over to his mother and father who are arguing. “Thanks for sticking up for her, I saw the look you gave Lagertha; and you tell me to be nicer around my family,” he laughs. 
“She’s not your family. Your mother asked again when we are going to have kids. She’s getting worse again, her drinking I mean.” His face falls and so does your heart. “I think we should look into getting her some help.” 
His mouth twists in sad acceptance. “I will talk to Ubbe, he can broach it with Father. Shall we go? I’ve had enough tonight.” 
“It’s your father’s bloody fault she’s like that! I will look into facilities and send them to Ubbe. I’ve ordered a cab, I’ll come back to yours and help you out, what do you need? Bath, that stinky ointment stuff?” You gesture to his legs.
“Thanks, probably both.” He gives you a quick sideways glance. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d just hang out with all your other friends….. oh wait…” You laugh and pull him up to his feet and he grabs you for a cuddle. “Ivar, get off me, You're like an octopus when you are drunk.” 
“I’m not drunk, I’m just giving you your annual hug to let you know I appreciate you.”
“Oh get a shitting grip,” you scoff at him but hug him back. It’s not often either of you show each other affection, usually only when something really bad has happened. “Come on then, shall we get a pizza when we get to yours?”
“Read my mind.”
“You two are finally together then?” Sigurd asks from behind you. 
You look at each other, roll your eyes and tell him to fuck off in unison. 
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A lemon drizzle slab lands in front of you. “Hell yeah, thanks,” You tell him as he sits down opposite you.
“I want half,” he warns you. 
“Why are you such a skinflint? Go and buy yourself one,” You throw your arm around the plate protectively.
“It was the last one.”
“Oh fair enough, OK, here you go,” you retort with a sigh as you slide it over to him, already having snarfed your half. 
You get a message on your phone from an unsaved number and as you read it your stomach turns.
Hello love. It’s your dad, long time no see. I’m in a bit of trouble. Can you help me out?
You let a confused scoff and give Ivar your phone. “Look at this. Who the fuck would send that to me? That’s a bit of a sick joke isn’t it?”
Ivar’s face turns murderous as he reads the message, his knuckles white as his grips your phone. 
“Give me it back, I will text them and tell them to fuck off. Ivar, pass me the phone.” You gesture for him to give it to you which he does, reluctantly, and you type out a reply quickly.
Fuck off weirdo. 
Three dots appear immediately. 
It’s me, Angel Dust. I need your help. I know you have a good job, I just need help, just this once. 
As soon as you read the nickname you know it’s actually your father. You are sure it’s written over your face so now Ivar knows it too. He grabs the phone and reads it. 
“Fucking Angel Dust? He used to call you Angel Dust?!”
You nod slowly, trying to process that the man who left you alone in the world, thirteen years ago has just hit you up for money. “I thought it was cute until I was old enough to know better. I feel sick.” Everything in your stomach is churning around and around, threatening to make a reappearance. You have to lay your head on the table to stop the world from spinning. “I don’t feel good, Ivar.” His hand is on your hair, smoothing it down, comforting you. 
“You need to puke?” he asked concernedly, but you shake your head.
“I’m calling him.” Ivar is calm, and that is worrying. Calm before his storm, always. Every time. You look up at him and he is waiting for permission and you say nothing, which he takes as a yes. 
There is no way on earth you could speak to that man. He neglected you all your childhood and then left you one day, just vanished into thin air. 
Ivar has your phone to his ear. 
“Angel fucking dust?  No it’s not, it’s Ivar. Oh you remember me do you? Do you remember my father?I thought you might. She isn’t giving you anything, she doesn’t owe you one fucking thing.” His voice is so low and menacing you are almost scared. As he listens to your father you see his face getting angrier and angrier. “You abandoned her, she was put into care!!” he screams down the phone. The whole of the cafe goes silent. 
“Do you know what happened to her in care? Of course you don’t, you fucking piece of shit! If you contact her again I will hunt you down and you do not want to ever come face to face with me, I fucking promise you that.” He falls into silence again as he listens. “I don’t care what fucking rock bottom you have hit, whether you get sober and want to make amends, whether you win the fucking lottery or become the king of England, you don’t contact her again, do I make myself clear? She’s fucking perfect, she’s fucking hilarious, beautiful, she’s fucking witty, loving, loyal, caring and beyond kind and that has fuck all to do with you and her shitty mother. And that is your fucking loss. Now delete this number and forget you have a daughter because you haven’t been a father to her in the twenty years I’ve known her and you’re sure as fuck not about to start now. If she hears from you again I will kill you. That’s a promise.” 
He gets up from the table, throws the phone down, squeezes you on the shoulder quickly before walking out of the cafe with everyone staring at him. You sit for a while. You know he’d have only gone round the corner to wait for you, but you also know that after an outburst like that he will need time to cool off. Probably wipes away some furious tears that always fall when he gets this worked up. 
It also gives you time to assess your own feelings about your dad.
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He abandons you just before your 15th birthday and you end up in a group home. You’re there for three months before Aslaug pulls strings and gets you out. It isn’t until you are at their house after school one day and she catches a glimpse of some bruises on your neck. She automatically knows what’s been happening when you go red and try to cover them, keeping your eyes off hers. 
“Older boys. They don’t like me. Or they like me a little too much, I’m not sure.”
“Are you hurt…anywhere else?” she asks very gently, you know what she is asking without her saying the words. 
You squirm in your seat. “A little, not… fully,” you say to the floor. When you look up you can see the horror on her face, the sadness, and you don’t want her to feel that for you. “I fought them off. I bit a large chunk out of one of their shoulders, one has a broken nose and the other got kicked in the nuts. Ivar taught me a thing or two,” you tell her, chin tipped up in pride. “They ended up in the hospital.” You can’t front it out for too long though, an adult is listening to you finally and so you tell her. “They say they are going to do…. other things to me soon. Don’t worry, I haven’t told Ivar,” you add quickly, “he would kill them and I don’t want him in trouble.”
“At this moment, my dear, the only thing I am worried about is you. You are not going back to that hellhole. You will stay here with us. I’ve been trying to do this legitimately, go through solicitors and the courts to get guardianship of you but I think I will have to involve Ragnar's influence.”
“Don’t tell him what they did to me, don’t tell anyone. Please,” you plead with her, panic in your voice. No one but her can know. People will look at you differently.
She pulls you in for a hug. “Don’t you feel ashamed for something that was done to you. That shame lies with them. You are strong, resilient, nothing that has happened to you is your fault, your mother, your father, those animals at the group home.” She cups your face and forces you to look her in the eye. “None of this is your fault and I will get you help to deal with this all, I promise.”
Ivar comes into the kitchen and grabs juice out of the fridge and drinks from the carton.
Aslaug turns to him, and pulls her shoulder back into a poised stature and announces breezily: “Ivar, she will be staying with us from now on. Please can you set up the spare room?”
Ivar looks between you and his mother. “Why what’s happened?” You can’t look at him so you fiddle with the glass in front of you. 
“Nothing has happened, Ivar. I just feel it will be better for her if she is here, going forward.”
You hear the dragging of his left leg and the hit of his crutch on the floor as he rounds the kitchen island to you. 
“Shitball, you tell me now. What happened?”
“Ivar, that’s not a nice nickname, please use her real name,” she tuts lightly at her son. 
“That’s my name for her, Mother,” he spits quickly and his hand is on your face gently pulling you up to face him. His tone is totally different when he addresses you, soft and caring. “You don’t lie to me do you? Something bad happened.”
You never lie to him, but you will not let him get in trouble again, he’s rarely out of it these days. “Something happened, but it wasn’t that bad, and I sent them all to the hospital, just like you taught me. I need you to leave it alone, it’s done, I need to forget it, if you get involved it’s dragged out for me and it will hurt me more.” You can feel the corners of your mouth turn down and you know you are about to cry.
You can see the internal battle in his expression, but you know he will do as you ask. He won’t want you in more pain than necessary. 
He nods once. 
That night, after everyone is asleep he sneaks to your room.
When the door opens you jump out of your skin; used to it meaning something else. 
He reads the fear on your face. “It’s just me. You want me to go?”
You shake your head and he climbs under your covers to hold you as you cry and work through all that's happened to you in the last few months. The relief at being safe, at being able to sleep without fear is overwhelming and Ivar is there to hold you as you are wracked with tears.
Aslaug finds you in the same bed every morning after that first night. One morning she asks you candidly, but with no judgement, if you need her to buy condoms but you tell her abruptly that it is not like that between you. It’s never been that. You still find some in your bedside cabinet the next day. 
She manages to get you into a private assisted residential program a year later. After a thorough vetting of the place, every member of staff and the teens in the program from the family's private detective. She knows you will be safe there.
She checks with you every day for six months before you leave that you want to go into the program, and you do. You want to be away from Ragnar's business. You know enough about their shit now you’ve lived there and you know you don’t want to be caught up in it. Aslaug agrees when you are honest with her and she pays for everything. 
Ivar is so hurt when you tell him you are leaving, but you are straight with him and tell him that the family business scares you and you don’t want yourself, or him, tied up in it. You’ve been through enough, You just want a quiet life. No more drama. 
You move out of the program on your eighteenth birthday, with the financial help of Aslaug who pays your rent for you as you work your ass off to pay for college. You refuse her help on that. You can do it yourself. And you do. You graduate with top grades and a job offer follows not too soon after. After a few years you have saved enough money to repay her for all the rent she paid out for you when you were at college. She point blank refuses to take it. 
“Use it for a house deposit or for the wedding when you finally marry Ivar,” she smirks. 
“You wish!” You laugh but you soon turn serious. “I don’t know what I can do to repay you for everything you’ve done for me. I don’t know what I would have done without your help. I know that my life would have been a lot worse if it weren’t for you.”
“You’ve repaid me every day since you befriended Ivar as children. There’s no greater gift could ever give me than what you have already done. Except grand babies?” She winks at you. 
You roll your eyes but crush her with a hug. 
“Aslaug, can I be frank? Are you OK? I’ve noticed you drinking more than usual. I’m not trying to pry or be rude.”
She looks away for a second. “I have… things are….. hard for me at the moment. Just make sure Ivar is OK, I will stop soon.” 
You know she won’t. You saw this within your own mother. But what can you do except keep an eye on her and help her when you can. 
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Years later, when you are in your early twenties, you tell Ivar what happened to you in the group home. He listens silently, jaw ticking and nostrils flaring in anger. He doesn’t say anything, he just holds you when the memory of it makes you sob. 
Another year has passed when you see their names in the newspaper. All three attacked in one night, all in critical condition in hospital. The attacks are seemingly random, the newspaper or the police haven't made a connection between the three of them, but you know it wasn’t random, and you are more than aware of their connection to each other and to you. 
When you turn up at Ivar’s door that night you stand staring at each other for a few seconds before his expression turns to unease. He knows all is well a second later when you throw yourself into his arms. 
“Violent little shit, aren’t you?” you murmur into his neck. “Thank you.”
Neither of you ever speak of it again.  
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You finally have allowed him enough time so you get up from the table grabbing his coat and your own and leave the cafe to find him. He’s in an alleyway a few streets along, shivering against the wind, smoking a cigarette, surrounded by stamped out cig butts.
“You OK?” you ask him as you rub his cold arms.
“Fuck that, are you OK?” 
You nod and try to hide your nostrils flaring as tears sting at your eyeballs.
“No, no. No tears for him! Don’t you dare cry over him.” He pulls you into him after taking his coat out of your arms and wrapping it around your shoulders. 
“I’m not crying about him. I’m crying at what he did to me. I was still a child and he just left me.” 
“Shhhh shhhh, I know. I know you were. I’m going to call Dr Hersher for you, set you up an appointment. It’s been a minute since you saw her, you need it. Ok? You don’t owe that man a fucking thing, you hear me?” 
You nod into his chest, feeling a shiver from him. You slip his coat off you and put it on him.
“You keep it, you are never warm.” 
“I’ve got a jumper and coat on already. I’m like Lloyd Christmas and his extra gloves. Put it on, you will die of hypothermia.” 
He lets you do up the buttons. “You want to go home? I’ll come with you?” he offers.
You nod at him and he throws his arm over your shoulder. “Come on, let's get you some food.” 
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Your apartment buzzer is relentless. Someone is just leaning on it it would seem. You check the clock and it’s almost 1am. If it’s one of your neighbours friends again you swear you are going to draw blood from someone. 
You stomp to the intercom. “What!?” you shout into it. 
“S’me.” Ivar's slurring voice announces, “buzz me up.”
You open the door when he bangs and he practically falls through the front door almost knocking you over.
“Tell me you did not sleep with that little fucking twat Aethelred. The most slimy little bastard on the planet got into your pants?” 
“Ivar, you are so drunk, you smell like a brewery. What are you doing here?”
“Just so you know. He’s not a good guy. He was in the pub tonight telling everyone he fucked you and that he is going to fuck you until he gets bored of you.”
“Oh well that’s wonderful,” you say sarcastically. You start picking up the trail of shoes, jacket and jumper he is shedding as he makes his way to your bedroom. 
“Do you think you are going to be sick? I will get a bucket.” 
“M’not going to be sick..” but his sudden detour to your bathroom and the sound of his stomach contents hitting your toilet bowl gives you a distinct feeling he was lying. 
You sigh massively. You can’t have him barfing on your carpet. You go to the towel cupboard and lay them out all over the bed and the carpet to the side and stick the bucket next to where he will no doubt end up sleeping. 
“You OK in there?” You hear another retch and a splash and head into the bathroom, his hair has come loose from the hairband so you rake your fingers through it and tie it back up, just in time for the third upchuck. He sits back heavily, back against the bath, wiping his mouth.
You see his knuckles grazed and battered. “What did you do to your hand?“ You take it to look at his injury. “Did you fall over? You drunken mess.Thanks for dropping in and abusing my facilities by the way.” You laugh at him but his face is serious. 
“I didn’t fall, punched him.” Ivar slurs, eyelids heavy with drunken fatigue.
“Who did you punch?” You stand up to wet a washcloth and to get some antiseptic cream. You start to clean his skinned knuckles up gently and glance up at him waiting for an answer. “Who did you punch?” 
“Why is it never me?” he slurs out, his eyes all over your face.
“Why is what never you? Never you who gets punched? Fuck knows, you are annoying as shit,” you chuckle and smear some antiseptic cream over his knuckles. “You need some ice for that hand?”
“No. I love you y’know?” 
“Yeah, yeah I know. Come on, let me help you up.” You wrap one of his big arms over your shoulder and help him get steady on his feet. “Good job I’ve been doing barbell squats at the gym, you massive lump.” He just grunts at you. 
You help him into the bedroom and he flops onto the bed heavily. You start to unbuckle his braces. He lets you, you are probably the only person in the world he would let do this.
“Shitball. Why did you sleep with him?” His eyes are almost asleep.
“Because I was horny and he was there. Won’t ever happen again though. He was absolutely terrible in bed. Didn’t take any notice when I told him he was rubbing about an inch away from my clit.” Your eyebrows raised at the memory. “There's a bucket down here, please don’t puke in my bed.”
“K. I punched him. For what he was saying about you.” He waves his busted hand around. “He deserved it. It’s never us.” You manage to wriggle his jeans off his legs very carefully and cover him over with the duvet. 
“You shouldn’t have punched him. Violent little shit. What’s not us?” But the only response you get is loud snoring. You roll your eyes and manage to pull him onto his side in case he pukes again. 
You sleep on the sofa, the last thing you want is waking up in the night to him vomiting on you.
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You are woken by him calling for you. You hop off the sofa and go to your bedroom. 
“Jeez it stinks of alcohol and puke in here!” You walk to the window, “close your eyes, I’m going to open the curtains to crack the window.” You wait until his hands cover his face, groaning and you open the window then close the curtains again. 
“Why am I here? What happened?” Ivar groans.
You walk around the bed and check the bucket, wrinkle your nose and pick it up to empty it in the bathroom. “You turned up absolutely hammered,” You empty the bucket into the toilet and rinse it out, “you punched Aethelred, that’s why your hand is fucked up.” Walking back into your bedroom you see him looking at his knuckles. 
“I did what?” He rubs his eyes. “Where’s my phone ?” 
You sigh heavily and grab his jeans finding it in his pocket, you give it to him after you stick your charger into it. 
“I screwed him and he was being rude about me in the pub apparently, you took offence,” You open the water next to him and find some painkillers, handing them to him. “You puked three times then passed out in my bed so I slept on the sofa.”
He is texting on his phone furiously then discards it on your bedside table.
“Great. I’m dying.”
You crawl into bed. “I had a shit night's sleep on the sofa. It’s only 5am, go back to sleep. Buckets on the floor.” You turn away from him and pull the duvet up over your shoulder and go back to sleep.
The sound of him retching wakes you up thirty minutes later. He’s leaning over the side of the bed puking into the bucket. You roll your eyes and rub his back. “What did you drink last night? I’ve never seen you this hungover.”
“Can’t remember.”
You empty the bucket again and come back into your bedroom.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I came here last night. Sorry you are having to look after me.”
“This is nothing. You remember when I got E-Coli?? Not that I want to bring that memory up but you’ve cleaned up way worse!” You laugh at the memory of it, you can laugh now. You couldn’t look at him for weeks after. “Go back to sleep. I’ll make you some food if you feel like it later.” You run your hand over his hair a few times, you know he likes that. He makes a happy noise and is snoring again in seconds. 
You are woken up again by the feeling of him behind you. Spooning you, his left arm heavy over your waist. You think about moving him but he’s dead to the world and you know he needs to sleep it off. So you leave him where he is, enjoying the warmth of a body behind you.
When you finally wake up for good you are facing him and his eyes are on you. 
“How are you feeling now?” you ask.
“Like hell. So you and that slimy twat fucked then? You really have got a terrible taste in men, you know that? 
“Oh shut up and yes I know I do. I don’t know why my man radar is so broken but it is.” You sigh heavily.
“There's business beef there as well, with us and his family.”
“Oh fucking hell why didn’t you tell me that? I wouldn’t have gone near him. You punched him last night, will it be a bigger thing?”
“I want to keep you out of all of that. You don't need to know anything. I messaged Ubbe earlier. Father has spoken to the head of their family and it’s smoothed over.”
“I'm sorry,” you say sadly. “And he was shit in bed as well. So not worth any hassle. Do you want some food? I’ll make you some breakfast.”
“Don’t cook, it might not stay down. Do you know what I really want? A Big Mac, fries and a chocolate milkshake.”
“You are so wrong,” you laugh as you pull out the phone to order it. 
He eats a lot slower than he usually does but he manages to get it all down.
“Better? Are you going to go home at any point?” 
“No, can’t move.”
It’s half that. The hangover is half the reason he is staying but you know the other half after reading your phone earlier.
“Ubbe texted me this morning saying your mum went to rehab yesterday. Is that why you went a bit crazy on the alcohol last night? Why didn’t you tell me?” You’ve been waiting for him to bring it up but he hasn’t, and sometimes he needs a little push to open up. 
You see his jaw clench and his nostrils flare in annoyance. “Yeah, probably. Don’t know, I don't want you to worry I suppose.” He scoots down under your duvet more and doesn’t look at you. “I was doing OK until I saw that prick you screwed and he was being disrespectful, you know I can’t allow that. That’s when I let loose.” 
“She will be OK in there, you know that right? I have all the faith in that woman, she’s resilient as shit, you get that from her, not from your father like everyone else seems to think. She’s the reason you are so tough here”- You tap the side of his head -“she’s just had a hard few years and has lost her way.” You look away from him when you see a tear slip out the corner of his eye; he doesn’t like an audience to his emotions. 
You throw your arm over his head and he moves it forward so your arm is around his shoulders, you scoot to him, pulling the side of his head to yours. “She will be your Mother again, when she gets out of there. You will recognise her again. Ok?”
He wipes his eyes and sniffs, nodding stiffly against your head. 
“Ok, what can we watch to cheer you up? Silence of The Lambs? Fight Club? Predator?”
“Fight club, please.” He sniffs again. “Do I smell? I’ve just caught a whiff of something.”
“You fucking stink, Ivar, a heady mix of stale booze, vom, sweat and McDonald’s. It’s pretty potent.”
“Oh well. That sucks for you doesn’t it?” He laughs with no shame at all. 
“It really does. You have to have a bath later if you are staying.”
“Sorry about the state of me last night.” 
You just shrug. “Get a grip, it’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.” 
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You’ve heard the rumour. Everyone heard it as soon as school opened. You call him but he doesn’t answer. You text him but no answer. You wait for him on the steps as usual but he doesn’t show up. 
You can hear people whispering about him until you get close enough then people have the sense to stop talking and look away. As they fucking should if they are talking about him. 
It gets to lunchtime and you call him again; he still doesn't answer. 
You overhear her talking about him when you go into the locker room to get changed. 
“…..his legs are so weird and skinny, they freaked me out. He’s a good kisser but it just didn’t get.. you know.. hard. At all. It was so embarrassing for him. I asked him to leave in the end because it was just so fucking awkward. I mean, who wouldn’t be able to get it up with me? I’m fucking hot, way hotter than him. Ugh I shouldn’t have given him the chance. He messaged me loads asking me not to tell anyone but oops, I already had…” She laughs so nastily and so do her he little fucking lemmings. 
The red mist descends. 
You’ve elbowed her little group out of the way and your hand is pinning her to lockers by the throat before you know it.
“Maybe you’ve just got a clapped cunt and his dick is more discerning, prefers treasure to trash, know what I mean? Did you ever think of that? You stop talking about him now. You don’t mention him, his legs, or whatever happened between you ever again. Do you get me?” Her face is so scared you let her go quickly. She coughs and holds her neck as some of her friends run to her. 
“You are a fucking psycho! Do you know that?” 
You nod at her. “I do. I do know that, yet it didn’t stop you talking shit about my best friend did it? You shitting moron. You think I’d let you get away with that? I hear nothing else from you about him and if I do I will kick seven shades of shit out of you. Don’t go to the teachers either. Got it?” 
She nods quickly but you realise it’s not enough, not enough for the humiliation she’s caused him so you punch her twice in her face anyway. 
You leave the locker room to the shouts of her friends and her wailing, walk out the school ignoring the teachers calling after you and go to Ivar’s house. 
Aslaug lets you in. “Dear, what are you doing here? You should be in school. Ivar is sick.”
“Can I go and see him?” She gives you a soft smile, full of appreciation. 
“Of course. I will call the school and the program and let them know you are here and don’t feel well.” She walks to the fridge and hands you two cokes. “That way you won’t get in any trouble.” 
“Thank you.” 
You go to his bedroom and knock on the door softly. You haven’t really thought about what you are going to say to him, but sitting in silence with him is better than him sitting alone. 
There is no answer so you just go on in and find him lying in his bed with his phone in his hand. 
“Go away.”
You get a hit in the chest from his words: he hasn’t ever said anything like that to you before. You just stand in his room not really knowing what to do. 
“I said go away,” he says louder. “Just fuck off, I don’t want you here.” 
You try not to let it, but his words have caused tears to spring. You feel your mouth turn down at the corners involuntarily. 
He looks at you and does a double take at your face. “Don’t fucking cry, please. Just leave.” He’s softer this time but still firm with you. 
You nod once and you turn towards his door with a ripping feeling in your chest. “Sorry,” you say meekly.
The thought comes unbidden: you have no one left if you don’t have him anymore.
His words stop you. “Wait.”
You stop, turn around. 
“Why did you have to punch her? She texted me telling me you pinned her in the locker room, and she thinks her nose is broken.” He is angry at you, frustrated. 
“She was saying horrible stuff about you, lying about you. I was supposed to just allow it? Would you like it if you heard someone lying about me?” 
He covers his face over with both his hands. “It’s not a lie. It’s true.” He turns away from you, slides down under the covers and starts to cry. “Just leave me alone.” 
“I will shitting not,” you tell him indignantly. You walk over and sit down on his bed next to him, propped up on the pillows. “Anyway, that’s all the more reason to choke the shit out of her and give her a cheeky punch for spreading something so personal about you then. She’s lucky she got away with only two punches.” 
He says nothing. “You want to talk about it?” you offer. 
“No I don’t, just shut the fuck up about it.” 
“Gotcha.” 
You sit with him for hours in silence. You play on your phone and wait for him, and, even though your heart is breaking for him you are also incredibly relieved that he didn’t let you leave even after he told you to. You don’t know what you do without him. 
He breaks the silence eventually but still has his back to you. “I’m never going back to that school.”
“Yeah, school's bullshit anyway, let’s just pack it in. We can join the circus.” 
“There’s no word for how I’m feeling. Mortified doesn’t even cover it, Shitball.” 
You hear his sniff and see him wipe his eyes. You reach over and start to smooth his hair down.
“Now, I don't want you to go mental at me but I may have said a few things to her whilst I was in a rage,” you say apprehensively. He turns over slowly and you look at him out of the corner of your eyes with a regretful look on your face.
“Oh yeah? What did you say then?” His eyes are already rolling. 
“I may or may not have told her it was probably her fault because she's probably got a clapped cunt and you can’t help it if your dick is more discerning.”
You look at him, waiting for him to explode into a rage but he doesn’t. He starts to laugh. 
“You did not say that to her! You did not!!” he is still laughing.
“I did,” you reply, clapping your hand over your mouth and start to laugh. 
When you stop laughing you look at him and he is sad again. 
“How am I going to live this down? Does my dick just not work?? Ugh fuck my life.” 
You debate what to do here. Do you just let it go, change the subject and spare the awkwardness between you, or do you plough straight into a conversation neither of you really wants to have. 
You decide to dive in. 
“You jerk off right?” You look him square in the eyes when you ask him. 
“Fuck off.” He looks at you with a disgusted face. 
You roll your eyes. “I’m just saying that there is nothing wrong physically if you jerk off. And I know you get morning glories because you’ve unsuccessfully hidden many from me over the years.”
His jaw drops. “Are you trying to add to my humiliation?!”
“No, I’m just saying!” You pause. “What did you do?” you ask him quietly.
“What do you mean? With her? I fucking got out of there as fast as I could.”
“No I mean, what did you do, like… together?” you ask him awkwardly.
His jaw drops again. “What are you some sort of pervert? Piss off.” 
“Look, it was your first time doing anything right? I bet you were super nervous, am I right? Kissing?” You are trying to keep the blush off your face.
“Yeah.”
“Hand stuff?” you ask quietly. He shakes his head “No hand stuff at all? Boobs? Other…. bits?” 
He groans, shakes his head and looks away from you.
“Mouth stuff?” 
He shakes his head again.
“So you went from kissing straight to P in V?” you are so confused and he can see it.
“She wanted that, she said let’s just do it…”
“Ok, well there it is friend. Mystery solved. You have to warm up the ovens before you stick the bread in. Her oven and yours, if you catch my drift.”
You know the answer to this but it’s relevant so you bring it up. “Did you let her see your legs?”
He looks at you and his mouth twists round when he nods. “She made a face at them,” he admits. 
You scoff. “So basically what you're telling me is she made you feel shit about your legs, you kissed for a bit then you tried to have sex. This doesn’t sound like a long term problem, Ivar. This sounds like one shitty experience.” You watch him carefully as you speak; he’s quiet and contemplative, and you know you’ve finally gotten through to him. “Do you know what? Even if you managed to shag her I bet she would have been dry as the Sahara with the lack of foreplay and it wouldn’t have been much fun for either of you. Can you say ripped banjo string?” You shudder and so does he.
“Do you think?” 
“I do. I don’t lie to you, do I?” He shakes his head and gives you a little smile. 
“Do you even like her?” you ask.
He shrugs. “Not really. She’s an asshole.”
“She’s a total asshole.”
He groans again. “How am I going to show my face at school? Everyone knows!” 
“We go in, we front it out. We will just have to punch anyone who looks at you wrong won’t we? I’ll tell everyone we’ve done it together before and you’ve never had an issue so it must have been having an off day,” you offer and he smiles gratefully at you. 
“No. Don’t do that. That’s not fair to you. It will give you a…. reputation.”
“As opposed to the stellar one I have already? A punch happy daughter of a dead drunk and abandoned by a junkie father, living in a glorified care home? Everyone thinks we screw each other anyway. I don’t think one extra thing will hurt my chances at the debutante ball,” you retort, putting on a southern American drawl.
He chuckles at you. “No. Don’t tell people that. I appreciate it though. Just… stay with me at school?” 
“Of course.” 
You drag him to school the next day. The longer he stays off the worse it will get. The thought of it is always worse than just pulling off the band aid. 
No one says anything to either of you at school, although it’s clear they are talking behind his back.
At lunch time you eat on the benches as always.
“Ivar, I think we are doing very well today, we haven’t punched anyone at all. That’s progress, my friend.”
“Oh there’s still time,” he jokes. 
A few weeks later things have mostly blown over and people have moved to the next scandal. Obviously it’s not forgotten, these things never are. 
You helped a bit though, even though you told him you wouldn't, you whispered in a few gossipy ears that you know first hand his dick works perfectly.
You never tell him this.
Chapter 3
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mrsalwayswrite · 2 years
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I recently passed the milestone of 1K followers and am beyond honored that so many people would want to follow me and my random postings. I have met so many wonderful people on this site that have quickly become friends. You guys are all incredible!
So to celebrate I'm hosting a small challenge! Yay!
I love all kinds of fanfiction but my absolute favorite are AUs. So with that in mind, my challenge is going to be an Alternative Universe challenge!! Participants can choose an AU and base their contribution around that.
This challenge is open to everyone - friends, mutuals, acquaintances, we've never spoken but creeped on each other's blogs, you happened to just stumble upon this posting and are intrigued - the more the merrier!
Rules & Prompts are below the cut!
Rules:
-To participate you can write something, create a moodboard, edit, color palette or even a gif set.
-Please use Read More if your writing is over 500 words.
-You don't have to follow me to participate.
-Can be any pairing - x reader, x OC, canon couple. Or no romantic pairing at all.
-Use appropriate tag warnings.
-No underage fics, choking kink, humiliation kink, watersports, non-con.
-Up to 2 different people can use a prompt, then I'll cross it out.
-Feel free to choose more than one prompt, if you're inspired.
-Use the tag mzAUparty and make sure to tag me in your contribution also!
-Send me an ask with the prompt you want, so I can keep track of everything easily.
-Fandoms you can choose from: Vikings, Peaky Blinders, The Last Kingdom, Band of Brothers, Marvel, Fury movie, The Witcher, Outlander
Deadline: December 31, 2022
AU Prompts:
• Regency AU - @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie
• Biker AU - @tvserie-s-world (?)
• A/B/O AU
• Pirates AU
• Fairytale AU
• Meet Cute AU - @sophieshelby
• Arranged Marriage AU - @geekandbooknerd
• Bodyguard AU - @geekandbooknerd / @youbloodymadgenius
• Time travel AU - @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie
• Mafia AU
• Coffeeshop AU - @notyour-valentine
• Dystopia/Post-apocalypse AU - @solinarimoon / @grimeundglow / @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie
• Royalty AU - @geekandbooknerd / @runnning-outof-time
• Lumberjack AU
• Detective AU
• High School AU
• College AU
• Roommates AU -@emilyhufflepufftlk
• Soulmates AU - @typewritersandfanfiction
• (Rock) Band AU - @serasvictoria / @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie
• Futuristic AU - @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie
• Magic AU - @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie
• Supernatural/Mythological Creatures AU - @lilyrachelcassidy
• Assassins AU - @errruvande
• Monster Hunters AU - @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie
If you have a different AU you wish to use, just let me know!
(Shout out to @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for helping with prompts)
Tagging those who might be interested: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @youbloodymadgenius @geekandbooknerd @tvserie-s-world @doctorwhoandfairytaillover @solinarimoon @punkrocknpearls @quantumlocked310 @runnning-outof-time @errruvande
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vikingsbigbang · 2 years
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Proud to Announce our Author and Artist Pairs!
We know it's a little late for us to make our match-ups public on Tumblr. We're very sorry about the delay; it's been a rough week. The following list of Authors and Artists will give you an overview of who will collaborate with whom. Make sure to follow these creative souls if you don't already!
Author: @doctorwhoandfairytaillover || Artist: @serasvictoria, @vikingstrash Author: @encomium-emmae || Artist: @vikingstrash Author: @grimeundglow || Artist: @underragingwaves Author: @ivarthebadbitch || Artist: @nothingtolosebutweight Author: @losermultifandomidiot || Artist: @quantumlocked310 Author: @northernxstories || Artist: @mrgabel Author: @peaceisadirtyword || Artist: @nothingtolosebutweight Author: @ritual-unions-gotme || Artist: @mrgabel, @underragingwaves Author: @serasvictoria || Artist: @ivarthebadbitch Author: @underragingwaves || Artist: @vikingcest, @vikingstrash Author: @vikingstrash || Artist: @losermultifandomidiot, @underragingwaves
We're excited to see what these wonderful people will create together! Stay tuned 😊
Kind Regards, Killy and Yume ❤️
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 11 months
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are you on ao3?
I am! grimeundglow (link is in my bio and intro post if you don’t wanna search manually)
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vikingsevents · 2 years
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We have come to the end of our first-ever blog event! The responses we received to our Summer Solstice week blew us away with their diversity, creativity, and commitment. We have really enjoyed seeing all your creations and hope that we included all of them in a reblog.
Under the 'read more', you will find all the entries for our Summer Solstice week. Thank you to everyone in the Vikings and Vikings: Valhalla fandom who participated!
Day One - Meadow
Little As A Leaf moodboard - @grimeundglow
Delicate fic - @vikingstrash
Freydis Eriksdotter gifset - @ivarthebadbitch
Lost Amongst The Meadow fic - @ladyyennefer
Meadow Lark fic - @lmillay
if I had a voice, I would sing fic - @dragonoftheeast
Beyond the Stones fic - @encomium-emmae
I Will Join You fic - @shelivesinhermind
Day Two – Honey
Honey moodboard - @grimeundglow
she was sweet like honey edit - @encomium-emmae
Honey & Water fic - @lmillay
The Reverie Protocol fic - @underragingwaves
Honey moodboard - @vikingstrash
more, give me more, give me more fic - @dragonoftheeast
Day Three – Bonfire
Bál fic - @lmillay
Bonfire moodboard - @grimeundglow
The offering fic - @ivarthebadbitch
Bonfire edit - @encomium-emmae
that’s why we’re making headlines fic - @dragonoftheeast
Day Four – Summer Sun
Summer Sun moodboard - @grimeundglow
Midsummer’s Promise fic - @lmillay
dangling feet from window frame fic - @dragonoftheeast
Summer Days, Summer Nights fic - @encomium-emmae
Day Five – Dancing
The Dance fic - @lmillay
The Touch edit - @encomium-emmae
tired little laughs, gold-lie promises fic - @dragonoftheeast
Day Six – Wedding
Summer Solstice art - @ingeborgalf
Shadows of the Sun fic - @lmillay
Wedding edit - @encomium-emmae
do you even wanna go free? (I’ll show you what that big word means) fic - @dragonoftheeast
Day Seven – Flower Crown
Flower Crown edit - @shelivesinhermind
Ragnarssons with flower crowns gifset - @ivarthebadbitch
Tradition fic - @vikingstrash
my crown is in my heart fic - @encomium-emmae
Flower Crowns and Withered Egos fic - @nothingtolosebutweight
Solveig’s Crown fic - @lmillay
the gods will always smile on brave women fic - @dragonoftheeast
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underragingwaves · 2 years
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Happy birthday, @grimeundglow! 🔆💕 Hope the new year of your life will bring you many blessings!
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therealvikingstrash · 2 years
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Please may I request #9 "listening to the other’s heartbeat" - with anyone you fancy!
Hey love! 💕
Oh look, I'm finally starting to answer the prompts in my inbox. Who would've thought >.> clearly not me. Under the cut you will find a short Vikings: Valhalla fic with an attempted Liv/Yrsa pairing which I hope is okay? 😅 Also, this is my first fic in the V:V fandom o.o I hope I kind of managed to catch Liv's voice.
-
The biting cold wind rumpled Liv's hair and nipped at her ears, as their ship glided through the open water at night. With another fruitless attempt, she swiped at her hair, hoping it would stay out of her face once she'd snuggled into her fur coat. 
Máni's light shone down upon them and Liv took in her sleeping friend's faces. She noticed Leif was still steering their ship, unable to leave it to the Gods to guide them. Sometimes she wished his faith was as strong as Freydis', near her Liv felt almost invincible- blessed by the Gods. "You need to rest," Yrsa's sleep-rough voice reminded her and Liv turned her attention towards her, catching the concern in her friend's eyes that she wasn't able to hide properly. 
"It's too cold and the wind keeps teasing me with my own hair," she replied in a hushed tone as to not wake the others, her annoyance not hidden at all. "Clearly I am not supposed to sleep." Liv stated, meeting the kind eyes of her friend that regarded her carefully. Back home in Greenland, both Leif and her parents were sure Liv and him belonged together, but it had been Yrsa's enthusiasm to leave that caught her in a whirlwind of excitement and not his. Her loyalty to her friends had her joining the crew without another thought- leaving her parents behind in Greenland. 
They'd mourned her before she'd even stowed her belongings away.
Although, not only loyalty, but she was also afraid of being separated from Yrsa, of not being able to talk or hear her friends laugh and not being able to reach out to touch her to remind herself she was really there. This fear had gripped Liv's heart tightly and caused her to lose her breath momentarily at the thought.
No, she did not want to be without Yrsa, she'd concluded, and thus packed her things to prepare for their journey. For days Liv was debating what to take and what she would leave behind for her parents to remember her by.
"Don't be a fool," Yrsa tutted, a slightly tired smile tugging at her lips before she lifted the furs she'd wrapped herself in for Liv to cuddle up to her. "The Gods want you to be strong and alert, or else Máni would've let me sleep," her friend countered and Liv lost herself a little in the love that met her in Yrsa's gaze, knowing it was not the same as her own even though she'd hoped there was more to it. She nudged Liv softly, "Hurry or all the warmth is lost."
With her friends' encouragement Liv shuffled closer, letting herself be pulled in by Yrsa until her head lay on her friend's chest and feeling her ears warm up immediately. Finally the wind stopped bothering her, safe and shielded by the only person that tripped her heart up into a stumble with her mere presence.
And yet, with all the comfort she was given, sleep would not come to take her away as she listened to Yrsa's steady heartbeat. Each breath her friend took caused Liv's head to rise and fall with it. Under different circumstances it would lull her to sleep easily, but not so now. 
From her position, she could still see Leif, could see him watching and furrowing his brows at their closeness. Liv knew he would never understand how she felt, what she felt for Yrsa and why she never answered any questions about their families joining by marriage. She knew she had to, eventually, as it was their families wish, but for now she could listen to Yrsa's heart thumping a song she longed to hear every night for the rest of her life.
Escaping Leif's critical gaze, Liv closed her eyes to will herself to sleep, feeling Yrsa's hand squeezing her shoulder in reassurance and thereby pulling her closer still before she managed to drift off into a world where she could be someone else.
-
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serasvictoria · 2 years
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Please may I have a snippet of any WIP you fancy sharing?
You may and I guess I’ll share a bit from what has temporarily been named Four then. This is my thirst project featuring the hottest people on the show. It’ll also be an outlet for my crush on Gunnhild/Ragga Ragnars. So have the following snippet:
How could you not have a crush on her? She was, in one word, amazing.
A tall, statuesque beauty that excelled at everything that she turned her hand at. Gunnhild had the kindest blue eyes and an even kinder smile. She listened when people talked and remembered things as well, asking questions about something that someone had flippantly mentioned weeks ago and had forgotten all about.
One time, when you were over at Amma’s house, you could see her practicing with a sword in the backyard. An actual sword. It was all too easy to picture her jumping from the back of a horse and laying waste to all her enemies.
That image alone had been the source of many fantasies for you.
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author-morgan · 2 years
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WIP TITLE TAG
Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it, or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
Thank you @amorgansgal for the tag 🥰
I have way too many and not enough time but here we go, note this doesn't include some of the requests still sitting in my inbox:
Arthur Morgan-OC_Deliverance_WIP Arthur Morgan_Love-Hate_WIP Arthur Morgan_White Dress_WIP Eivor-Alexios_Alliance_WIP Eivor_Love-Hate_WIP Eivor_Isle of Skye_WIP Ivarr_Ceolbert Angst_WIP Ivarr_Flirt_WIP Alexios-OC_Phobia_WIP Deimos!Alexios-OC_Kryptic_WIP Deimos!Alexios_Injury_WIP Harald-Halfdan_WIPSmokin Hearts_WIP
Tagging @erzsebetrosztoczy / @serasvictoria / @grimeundglow and anyone else who wants to jump in.
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encomium-emmae · 2 years
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favorite tropes in fanworks
I was tagged by the incomparable @ladyyennefer — mille grazie! 
inspired game: Highlight your top 3-to-10 in each category and tag some friends with whom you’d like to compare notes.
character transformations
aging up
all human au
animal transformation
bodysharing
bodyswap
centaurification
de-aging
elf au
genderswap
ghosts
magic au
merpeople
robots
vampire
werewolf
wingfic
alternative universe
alpha/beta/omega society
apocafic
barista au/coffee shop au
BDSM au
crime au
cyberpunk au
dystopian au
high school au/college au
historical au
magical au
modern au
mundane au
noir detective au
pirate au
pornstar au
prison au
punk au
regency au
rentboy au or hooker au
royalty au
slavery au
spy, secret agent, assasin or hitman au
western au
zombies au
style, theme or setting
accidental marriage/forced marriage/marriage of convenience
afterlife-ascension
anthropomorphic
based on a painting
canadian shack
casefic
constructed reality
crossover/fusion
curtainfic
desert island
elevatorfic/closet fic
epistolary fic
fake dating/undercover as a couple
holiday fic
hurt/comfort
interspecies
kidfic
reincarnation
snowed in
there was only one bed
time travel
individual elements
amnesia
didn't know they were dating
disability fic
döppelgangers/evil twins
dubcon
fever dream
first time
hatesex/enemyslash
huddling for warmth
in vino veritas/truth serum
kink
magical healing cock
mind control or brainwashing
non-con
pining
pregnancy/mpreg/magical pregnancy
presumed dead
fuck or die/heat fic/pon farr/sex pollen
skinhunger
soulbound
tentaclefic
Not sure who’s been tagged already, but I’ll tag @mercurygray, @grimeundglow, @ivarthebadbitch, and @vikingstrash on this one (along with anyone else who wants to do it)!
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istorkyou · 2 years
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When We Were Wild (Modern!Ivar AU)
Tumblr media
A Modern!Ivar x F Reader.
Warning - Mentions of sex toys. Childhood neglect. Mentions of drug use. Violence.
Synopsis - Best friends until....
Note - Everything in italics is a flashback.
Word count - 3669
As always, massive love to @punkrocknpearls for talking me through this, the amazing beta (pretty sure she got the characters better than I did!) and for the fabulous moodboard above. You da BEST!
Tag List - As always, let me know if you want on or off. 
@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @momowhoo​ @zuxiezendler​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​ @berryonasummerevening​ @synnersaint​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​ @serasvictoria​ @mimiiinspace​ @itsmysticalmystery​ @lonewolf471​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​ @grimeundglow​ @draculasbride-blog​ @love-all-things-writing​ @southernbe​ @redhead7799​ @kaybee87​ @ivarlover​ @ivarhoegh​ @freydis-tyrsdottir​ @idgafiamallthefandoms @darkphoenix5037 @profoundtyrantharmony @snarling-through-our-smiles
CHAPTER 1
“No. Nope. No way.”
Ivar grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you onto your back and you get a look at his stern face. Eyebrows raised and nostrils flaring. 
“Get. The. Fuck. Up.” 
You roll back onto your side, away from him, eyes back on the TV. “Just leave me alone.” 
“No. Get up. It’s been a month. Get the fuck off this sofa now. I am not playing with you. If I have to, I am going to drag you out of this house in what you are wearing, and those little ass grazer shorts aren’t going to keep you warm. Get the hell up. I am not spending another weekend sitting on this sofa with you. Up. NOW, SHITBALL!”
He means it and he isn’t to be fucked with when he is in this type of headspace. He has come to the end of his patience with you, you know it. Frankly it’s a miracle he’s lasted this long. You throw the blanket off you petulantly. “You don’t have to be here!”
“Where the fuck else am I going to be? You know I hate everyone but you.”
“Lucky me.” You roll your eyes and pull yourself to standing. “Look. I’m up. Fucking happy now?” You glare at him with your hands on your hips. 
“Happy is an overstatement. I’m mildly less annoyed at you now you’ve got your arse moving but do me a favour and get in the shitting shower,you are gross. Christ, Shitball, buck the fuck up! Get ready. We are getting out of this house.”
“Sorry my heartbreak offends you so much, dickhead.” You walk off into your bathroom. “Remember when the F witch broke your heart? I was much nicer to you then than you are to me.” You turn on the hot water and start to get undressed.
“You what?!” he chokes out through the closed bathroom door. “After a week you walked into my house, dumped a bucket of cold water over my head and made me take you out for a McDonald’s.” He looks at you incredulously. “and I dated her for four times as long as you dated Tom. The fucking prick.” He adds the last bit under his breath. 
“I heard that!” 
“Just get in the shower and do something about your hair. It’s an absolute state.”
You get in the shower and smile a little. As much as you both talk to the other like you hate each other you don’t. You’ve been friends since you were seven years old and you moved into his district, ending up in the same school. 
He was always sitting alone watching his brothers play football in the school yard so you sat with him one day. 
“Go away,” were the first words he ever spoke to you and yours back to him were “piss off, Shitball” which shocked him and made him laugh. You solidified your friendship when you told him that you thought his leg braces look like “shitting cool robot legs” and he said you could hang around him because you had no other friends and no one else would put up with your swearing. You knew he didn’t have any friends either, all the other kids seemed scared of him, but you could see the sadness underneath the anger and you were drawn to him. You have been best friends since that day and he’s called you Shitball ever since. 
You realise you can’t hear him shouting through the bathroom door at you, like he usually does and you know what he’s doing. 
“Ivar! You better not be in my wardrobe again! Stay out of the shitting shoe boxes!” You hurry out of the shower, wrap a towel around you and wrench the door open, finding him standing with the shoe box in his hands, lid off, mouth hanging open in a shocked, wide eyed surprise. 
“How many times?” you exclaim, holding out your hand. “Stay out of my wardrobe. I can pick out my own clothes…” You stomp towards him and try to grab the box off him. 
“How many vaginas do you have?! You’ve got four, five, six, seven fucking vibrators here,” he counts and looks at you and laughs. “What the fuck is this?” He holds up a rose shaped toy turning in his hand. 
“That’s the Soul Sucker 3000 my friend. Next time you get a girlfriend, buy her this. She will thank you for it!” You grab it out of his hand, shove it back in the box and take the box out of his hands. 
“No way, I prefer to give people orgasms manually,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.
“You’ve used a vibrator with a girlfriend though? That rose thing gets me off in around ten seconds.” 
His head whips to look at your face. “Shut the fuck up.” 
You just give him a shrug, “if I’m on my own, maybe thirty if it’s in someone else’s hands.”
“It’s not that I’m against them. It’s just that no one I’ve been with has ever asked me to use toys on them.” 
“Oh well. Maybe the next one will. Anyway, enough sex talk. Where the fuck are you dragging me?”
He gives you a look of pure amusement. “Farmers market.”
Your shoulders drop and you give him a withering look. “You thought a good way to get me out of this funk is to take me to the bloody farmers market? You just want to see that woman who makes those soaps again. Get the fuck out, Ivar.” You point to the door and head back to the sofa. “Get one of your brothers to wingman you.”
He throws a bunch of clothes at you, ignoring you completely. “We are leaving in two minutes. Get dressed.”
___________________________________________
Aged 8
Ivar is sitting in the lunch room holding the usual spot for you. Not that anyone else wants to sit by him, his scowling face and stinking attitude scares them off. 
Lunch time is torture for you at the moment. 
He catches your eye and you walk over to him, sitting opposite him and watch him open his lovingly packed lunch box from his mother. 
“Did you watch Pokémon last night? It was a new one! It was so cool wasn’t it?” He unwraps his sandwich and takes a bite. 
You don’t take your eyes off his food. “I didn’t see it.”
“Why not?! How did you miss it? It was epic.” He bites again and you just watch him.
“Where’s your lunch?”
“Forgot it at home.” It’s the first time you’ve lied to him and you go red at your deceit. 
He throws a sandwich at you and carries on talking a mile a minute about the new episode that you missed. 
You use the same lunch excuse all week until, on Friday, Ivar brings out two packed lunches and hands one to you. “Your dad isn’t making you lunch is he? And you’ve had on the same dirty jumper all week. Don't lie to me again, OK?”
Your mouth twists to the side and you bite your lip and you nod.
“I told mother you don’t have lunch so she said she’s going to pack you one everyday so you don’t have to worry. Do you want to come back to my house after school? Mother said she will drop you home later.”
The thought of spending more time with your friend is the only thing that’s made you smile in weeks. The prospect of a warm house, more food and a working TV is just an added bonus. 
You smile at him and nod excitedly. “Yes please. Can I see your Pokémon card collection?” 
“Obviously, silly little Shitball!” 
You have never seen anything like their house. It’s a mansion from the movies. All the lights are on, it’s clean, it smells like food and flowers and it’s noisy. It’s what a home should look like. You’ve lived in many places in your eight years but nothing like this. All the beds have sheets and pillow cases.
“Ivar, you never said you’re posh and rich,” you whisper as you look around, eyes like saucers. 
“I’m not. Am I?”
As you look around the kitchen, seeing the fruit in the bowl, fruit you’ve never even tried, the size of the fridge, you can’t believe people live like this. 
“Dear, come with me for a minute.” Aslaug leads you into a bedroom. “I’m going to wash your uniform, if that’s OK? I’ve laid out some clothes for you to change into and I will get these clean and dry before I take you home, OK?” She is kneeling down so she is at your level. “Is everything good at home?” 
“The hot water isn’t working, and the TV is broken, but it’s OK. My dad’s a bit rubbish with house stuff and I don’t have a mum anymore. She died.” 
Aslaugs eyes get wider. “I am sorry, so very sorry to hear that my dear.” She tucks some hair behind your ear. “What does your father do?”
You look at her suspiciously; you have been asked by many people you don't know well about your father and you don’t trust anyone anymore. 
“I forget.” 
Aslaug looks at your face for a long time. “My dear, you can trust me, I am not anyone you need to fear, I am just Ivar’s mother. I am only interested in helping you, if you need it.” 
You look at the floor. “He sleeps a lot, my father. He says it’s the medicine he takes in his arm. I know it’s not medicine. I’m not an idiot.” 
She is looking at you with an expression on her face you don’t recognise. “Ok dear. Thank you for trusting me and telling me about your father. Would you like a hot shower? Cold showers can’t be much fun?” 
“Can I?” you ask excitedly. You bet she’s got some fancy shower gel. “I won’t take long. I won’t use all the water.” 
You watch as tears form on her waterline and your brow furrows in confusion. You don't know how you have made her sad. “What’s wrong? Sorry if I upset you.”
“Oh you did not upset me my dear,” she replies, wiping her eyes before the tear falls and gives you a big hug. “You have a nice shower and I will put your clothes in to wash. Come to the kitchen after and you and Ivar can have some cookies.”
After your visit to their house things get a little better in your own home. Your father has a bruised face and a broken nose, but your water is on, and you have a new TV that works. You go to Ivar’s house every day after school and have dinner there and Aslaug washes your clothes. 
She still sends you a packed lunch every day. 
You like her a lot. 
____________________________________________________
It’s freezing out. You hate the cold, hate it. You especially hate it when you don’t even want to be out in it. 
“Why didn’t you tell me it was this cold?” How long do we have to be here for?” 
“My god woman, just shut the hell up. You needed the fresh air and the sunlight. Have my scarf.” He chucks it at you and you take it with a grumbled obscenity. “You’re welcome,” he retorts sarcastically.
As you walk through the market on your way to Soap Woman you head to a chilli oil stall. 
“I could use this when I make those dumplings you like, what do you reckon?” No answer comes; you look in Ivar’s direction and see him watching Soap Woman. 
“Ivar, I swear to all hell if you don’t ask this woman out this time I am going to do it for you like I did to Inga Hansen when we were thirteen and that will not make you look cool at twenty seven. Ask her so I don’t have to come to these middle class wank fests every few weeks with you,” you warn him sternly. “There’s only so much shitting chutney I can buy.”
His eyes are still on her and he rolls his shoulders and clicks his neck as if he is going into the boxing ring.
“Get a grip,” you laugh at him. “Go get her stud.”
You both walk in the direction of her stall but you head right to the fruit stall next to hers. 
As you are deciding what fruit to buy you glance over at Ivar to watch him flirt with her. He’s doing well, she is even more rosy cheeked than usual and she’s playing with her hair.
You can’t help but smile. He’s come a long way from the shy teen he once was, petrified he’d be alone forever, unlovable because of his disability, especially after a first disastrous sexual experience after he turned sixteen. 
When he turned nineteen he got his first girlfriend and ditched you for almost a whole year. God that was painful for you, losing him from your life for all that time, but you understood, Freydis wanted him all to herself, and he was besotted. You tried to be friends with her, but she wanted no part of it so you took a step back and didn’t take it personally. You were pleased for him, it was nice to see your friend blossom, even if it was from afar. You missed him like hell though. He was broken when they split, and you made sure to be there for him as much as you could and you settled back into each other's lives easily. 
It’s not like you didn’t do the same thing when you got a boyfriend, not to the same extent as Ivar, but you definitely saw him less. Your boyfriend at the time didn’t like you being so close with another guy, and that soon translated into him not wanting you to do anything at all without him. You binned him off fairly soon after that. 
Lots of time and people have passed since those early days. You both get that when you have a significant other the time you spend together lessens. It just is what it is and neither of you get shitty about it. 
You hope Soap Women is an easy girlfriend, one that you can be friends with. That would be great. 
You are lost in thoughts when an arm slides over your shoulder. Your first thought is why the fuck is Ivar cuddling you but when you look to the side you see a most unwelcome face. 
Tom. 
“Hiya sugar. How are you?” He asks you in his smarmy manner, smiling his patronising smile at you. What you ever saw in this sap you will never know. 
You take a step away from him so he isn’t touching you anymore. 
“Tom.” You give him a false smile and notice the petite woman at his side, her arm looped through his. 
Excellent. It’s her. The woman that “captured his heart completely” in his own slimy words. Oh god, you feel like you are going to vomit.
“Sugar, it’s lovely to see you again. This is Hattie, you remember I told you about her?” 
“Yes I have vague recollection. Don’t call me sugar. I hated it when we were together and I hate it with the fire of a thousand suns now,” you tell him bluntly, looking him dead in his eye. How dare he be introducing you to the woman he left you for and still calling you your pet name. 
“Oh no need to be like that is there? We are all adults here aren’t we?” He looks to Hattie who nods her head obediently. 
“Oh hell no,” You hear a shout from behind you, and suddenly Ivar is at your side. “Fuck off, Tom.” Ivar grabs your hand. “Come on, let’s go.” 
“Ivar. So good to see you again.” Tom's voice is dripping with sarcasm. 
“Oh is it? Shit,” he snarls as he glances  at Hattie, “tell me you haven’t just brought your new bitch to talk to her!? You have got to be shitting me!”
“Ivar…” you start, you don't need this scene.
“Nah fuck this! Tom, you can go to fucking hell you lying prick. And you–” He motions towards Hattie with a look of pure disgust on his face. “--did you know he had a girlfriend when you started seeing him?” 
Hattie tries to look as dignified as she can then announces loudly, in a high pitched, super sweet voice that has you picturing ripping her larynx out her neck: “Sometimes you just know when you meet the one.” She looks up at Tom with a devoted expression.
You and Ivar look at each other and start laughing hysterically, you laugh until your sides are hurting and tears slip out the sides of your eyes. When you catch your breath you can’t help but look at her with pity. 
“You lose them how you get them, sweet pea.” A patronising tone drips the words from your mouth. 
“Yeah, good luck with that. And Tom?” Ivar takes a step into Tom's space and whispers something in his ear that makes the colour drain from Tom's face. Ivar pulls away and smooths down Tom's coat lapels. “Understand?” Toms nods quickly, grabs Hattie and scuttles off in the opposite direction. 
“What did you say to him?” 
“Oh nothing much, just that if he comes near you again, I will punch the shit out of his stupid face so he will have to eat through a straw for 6 months. You know, the usual. Come on, Shitball, let’s get out of here.” 
“Violent little shit. Thanks though.” You give him a little nudge of your shoulder. “Any luck with Soap Woman?” 
“Boyfriend,” he says with a mocking lilt and rolls his eyes. 
“Well this day has been a bust. Still, at least I haven’t got to come with you to any of these things again and freeze my ass off.” You give him a slightly sad look. “You OK?”
He gives you a little dejected shrug that makes you feel sad for him. “I’m OK. Threatening your ex took some of the sting off it!” 
____________________________________________
“Get up Lothbrok. Oh I forgot! You can’t! Useless legs, can’t even get himself up. Like a baby.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you!! All of you!” Ivar screams at them from the floor.
All three of their looming faces are laughing at him as he screams in frustration at himself, at them. “Oh yeah, you're going to kill us from down there are you? Like a horrible little snake on the floor aren’t you, Ivar.” 
You round the corner of the playground and it takes a few beats for you to register the scene. Your best friend on the floor and three big kids over him, laughing. As you watch the one in the middle lean over Ivar and spit on him you lose it completely.
You run up behind the biggest and grab his head, pulling him onto the floor, quickly getting on top of him. You slam your knee onto his face, pulling his hair, grinding his flesh into the concrete until he is screaming. You stand up, leering over him, stamping your foot onto his chest so he can’t move. Then, with strength you didn’t know you had, you pull your rucksack off your back and start to heave the heavy bag, full of books, over your shoulder and into his face until you hear Ivar behind you. 
“Get me up. Get me up!” You look at him and his hand is outstretched to you, his eyes blazing with anger. You run straight to him and pull him up to standing and take your place at his side, facing the bullies.
“I’m up you fuckers, come at me now!!” he is screaming. The other two are rooted to their spots, still looking down at their friend who is sitting up, holding the bloody grazes on his cheek from the concrete. 
One of them starts towards Ivar and he is no match for the punch Ivar lands on his face. He stumbles backwards and the third bully runs off to the teachers. 
The scene the teachers find must be burned into their brains to this day. Two ten year olds standing over two bloody faces twelve years old, laid out on the floor, your book bag repeatedly flying into their heads and Ivar screaming at them and laughing maniacally “who’s on the floor now, you fucking assholes!”
Both your parents are called. 
Only Ivar’s turn up. 
You sit next to each other in front of Aslaug, Ragnar, and the headteacher who demands to know what happened. Neither you nor Ivar say a thing, just sitting next to each other is silence.
Ragnar smooths things over as the two of you are sent with Aslaug out to sit in the hall. 
He hits your shoulder with his. “Violent little Shitball, aren’t you?”
You can’t help but snort a laugh out of your nose and you see Aslaug smile out of the corner of your eye. 
“Thank you.” He looks at you and holds your hand. 
“Anytime. You would do the same for me.” 
Ragnar comes out of the office and stands in front of you. He’s tall enough that you both have to tip your heads back to look at him.
“So, you beat up boys two years above you?” His voice is harsh and low.
“They pushed him down and spat on him. Spineless and disgusting.” Your face is indignant, you don’t break eye contact with Ragnar even though you feel scared looking at him. 
“I see you have my son’s back. You are quite a pair, the two of you, and you kept your mouths shut. Very commendable. Come, I am taking you both out for milkshakes.”
CHAPTER 2
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