#ivar the king | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

underscorewriting · 1 year

Text

Taking Care…

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Warnings: none, maybe a tiny bit of angst?

Words: 844

A comfortable silence surrounded them as they watched the fire burn. Her fingers softly combing through his dark hair, making his eyes closed in satisfaction. Chuckling softly she watched him, watching how his lashes barely brushed his cheeks, how his mouth held the smallest smile, barely visible but still there. A low disproving hum escaped him as she stopped brushing through his, letting her hand just rest on top of his hair, feeling for any remaining braids she couldn't see in the light.

Opening one eye, he shot her a glare making her try to hide her giggle, placing one hand over his eyes, shushing him. Smiling softly he leaned back into her, letting her continue her work. Humming a soft tune she concentrated back on his hair, making sure it wasn't knotted anymore, before rinsing it with water again, watching the last of blood wash out of it. Biting her lip in worry of it being his own, she again thread her fingers through his hair, carefully feeling for any sign of a wound.

Softly taking her hand that was covering his eyes he brought it down to his mouth, kissing her palm lovingly, calming her nerves slightly making her sigh in relief. She was used to treating his wounds, but the ones on his head still worried her the most, not knowing what it could cause to the parts she didn't see. Still placing soft, featherly kisses on her palm and each of her finger tips, the young man couldn't help but keep his eyes closed, leaning into her touch, letting her take care of him.

They both barely said a word when he came back, just needing to feel each other close. Needing to be in the safe haven they created with one another. Tugging on his hair, she grinned down at him with a glimmer of mischievous in her eyes as his own fluttered open to find hers, his heart melting at the sight in front of him. His lover looking down at him with the most truest admiration, her lips pulled into a grin as she tugged on his hair to get his attention, not wanting to break the oh so comforting silence.

Raising an eyebrow he felt his own lips pull into a small smile. Leaning down she placed a soft kiss onto his cheek, leaving a trail of kisses in their as she made her way to his lips. Leaving tingles in their wakening, making the young king shiver slightly under her touch. As her lips finally reached his, he couldn't contain himself as he cupped the back of her neck, pulling he closer, deepening the kiss. Soft gasps slipped out of her mouth making him catch them with the kiss, smirking softly.

With heaving chests, Ivar let his hand slip onto her cheek, caressing the skin softly, making her smile tenderly at him. Her eyes held love. The love he never thought he'd receive. The love he knew was shining even brighter in his own eyes when he looked at her.

"I was so scared, Ivar." Her hand softly playing with his hair, not having the strength to find his eyes anymore. Showing weakness was something so fragile, they both still weren't sure wether it was alright for them to be so open about their fears. Ivars eyes softened as he heaved himself into the position opposite her, taking her hands. "Whatever for?" Worry settled on his features as her eyes welled with tears. Shaking her head she realized how hideous her fear was. He was Ivar the boneless, nothing could or would be able to hurt him. He was protected by the gods.

But as the months went on her fear started to settle in, more reason flooded her mind. What if the gods suddenly stopped protecting him, making him vincible, easier to hurt. More months passed and the fear was causing her many sleepless nights, making her visit the seer almost daily, slowly starting to obsess over her husbands wellbeing. Ivar was fragile, he wouldn't admit it but he was and she knew it. The whites in his eyes turning blue, his bones breaking, being her biggest fear.

A small tear slipped down her as she turned her head away from him. "You need someone strong, I shouldn't worry." Chuckling softly he pulled her onto his lap, being careful enough not to put too much weight on his legs. “What I need is for my wife to worry about me when I’m gone for battle.” His fingers now drawing small shapes softly on the outside of her thighs. A small smile now finds its way onto her face as she nuzzled her head into his neck, inhaling his scent, calming herself.

Smiling to himself Ivar began running his hair through her tangled hair, an evidence that she, again, was spending more time taking care of him and his needs than tending to her own. Placing a featherly kiss onto the top of her hair, he hushed her quietly, stopping her thoughts from torturing her.

410 notes · View notes

spidersnakes · 2 years

Text

Ivar x Reader (Forced Marriage)

A.N: Do you guys want another part or is this just a horrible oneshot made by my daddy issues?

Summary: Being Sigurd's wife, you were used to him arguing with his younger brother, but when things get too far, you somehow end up being forced to marry Ivar.

TW: Forced marriage (?), SA, curse words, violence, abuse, bit of spitting. Generally a lot of heavy stuff that a lot of people aren't comfortable with.

You hated him. Absolutely. And you were sure he reciprocated the feeling, but his big fat ego and pride led you to this moment.

You had only bitten back a smile when Ivar and Sigurd were fighting, just after you had gotten married to the latter. It was a marriage of convinience for the both of you, knowing Sigurd wasn't at all interested in females and you wanted to escape the countless men thirsting after you.

Sigurd wasn't the easiest, but you had bonded with him throught your love for music. And next thing you knew, Ivar had grabbed you by the throat, a knife to your throat.

You were just a way for him to release his rage and grief. But when Sigurd spoke up and told him to leg you go, the usual snarky tone prominent in his voice it seemed to set the younger Viking off even more. Before your husband could laugh at his smart insult at his brother, prodding the matter that hurt him the most, he was laying at the floor motionless, his eyes empty of light and no sing of life in his limp body.

And so Ivar married you. He grieved Sigurd, you could see the regret and realisation in his eyes, but his stupid rage blinded him once again. You knew denying him would mean joining your friend, but a death like that would never get you in Valhalla.

Ivar paused, seeing you sitting on the bed already when he entered your bedroom. He closed the door behind him but by the time he turned around, you had gotten close to him, one hand grasping his tunic.

"What are you doing?" He took in a sharp breath, his eyes going back and forth on your hand and eyes.

"It's our marriage night, My Prince."

He hummed in acknowledgement at your statement, understanding the situation, but he still seemed confused. "Did my brother touch you?"

That made you pause. Being smart about it would only get him angry, you knew better than defend Sigurd right now. "Ivar, Sigurd was... not interested."

"Was that your fault?"

"My Prince, I think you are aware of what your brother's... preferences were. I think he wouldn't be interested in any woman." You stopped him before the conversation could progress, and your lips softly touched his only for a moment before you pulled away and locked your gazes.

He bit his bottom lip, seemingly aware that you didn't do this because you actually cared about him. He just wanted to believe you, and it made everything a lot easier.

He initiated another kiss, just as soft as the other one and let his hands rest on your waist and pull you into him. You almost forgot who he really was, meeting softness you could have never guessed this man was ever capable of. He was anxious everytime your lips parted, they wouldn't meet again even as his tongue entered your mouth and started to explore it.

You gripped the knife behind your back tighter, preparing to stab him. Albeit a Viking, you weren't a very good warrior, prefering to go on raids rarely and only to take care of people and get inspiration for your music. Stabbing Ivar like this... if you didn't succeed right away you would face horrible consequences. You barely missed his neck as he moved and lost his balance, landing right in top of you on the floor as the knife fell on some far away corner of the room.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?!" He yelled, his composure long lost. To think those soft kisses were only a lie so you could kill him... you weren't any better than him, you were not the prideful woman you presented yourself as, but a cunning, manipulative bitch.

"That's right. He wouldn't be interested in anybody with a smaller cock than his. And you don't even have one." He laughed, remembering your previous conversation. "You found your husband funny, no? You laughed at his last joke. I am your husband now, but you don't seem very amused."

"You are a bad joke, cripple." You muttered, titling your head to meet his eyes. The sadistic smile on his face didn't give it away, but you could see the anger behind his eyes.

They were so blue, so beautiful, but so cruel.

"Am I not man enough for you? Is that it? But my brother was?" He gritted his teeth as he pulled on your hair, forcing your head back. "Answer me."

You spat on his face, but he only wipped it off, amusement and hate prominent in his features. "You laughed when he called me impotent, perhaps I should show you otherwise. It is our wedding night after all, you said so yourself."

"Don't touch me--" He raised himself enough to flip you around under him, your face now against the furs on the floors.

"Or what? You will try to stab me? Who would justify your murder, just because I wanted to touch you on our wedding night?"

"Ivar-- Ivar please-!" You inhaled sharply, trying to contain the tears in your eyes as he ripped the back of your dress and pressed his clothed erection against your bare ass.

Ivar was shocked himself. He really did think he was impotent, he never lusted over a woman like his brothers, and the Margrethe incident didn't help his insecurities. So why did you, a woman that barely had any experience herself and tried to kill him have him hard because of a few kisses.

His wife, he reminded himself. He just wanted to scare you at first, but now he actually wanted-- needed to feel you. It felt like he knew what he was doing as he let his hand wander from your hair down your body and to your pussy, feeling the slightly wet area. He felt you shiver as he kissed your neck and slowly pushed two fingers inside you, the hands he had pinned on top of your head now struggling against his grip again.

"Unless you want me to finish inside you until I am sure you are bearing my heir, stop fighting against me, wife." Even he questioned his own actions. He could just use your velvety thighs, or just push himself inside you and be done with it.

So why was he, a man that detested you kissing your neck trying to get you wet and open you up, and savoring every little sound you tried so hard to bite back? It didn't make sense.

In reality, it hurt. Your wrists were sure to bruise from his grip, his teeth nibbling on your neck clumsily felt weird and your whole body hurt on the furs, his whole weigh holding you down. The tears you held back hurt the most of all, along with the sounds of pleasure fighting to escape you as his fingers moved inside you.

"Ivar..." You meant to insult him, but it only came out as a meowl of his name as he rubbed against you. You could feel his disgusting smirk against your neck at the clench of your walls around his fingers.

"If I didn't know any better I would say you are enjoying this." He groaned as you raised your hips in an attempt to roll him over and slammed you down, roughly biting your neck.

Your gasped in pain, your nails digging in his hands. He licked over the bite and took his fingers out of you to line himself up against you.

"Stop, stop please. Ivar, w-we can learn to get along and make this work, I know you didn't actually want to marry me because you care about me. Please don't do this." You begged him, but didn't dare to meet his gaze this time.

"Should have thought about that sooner princess." He mumbled and pushed himself inside you slowly, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of your walls hugging perfectly around him.

"Y-You bastard!" You groaned and finally freed your arms and clenched the furs under you. He started moving slowly, testing the waters and you couldn't hold the tears in anymore. You let them run down, sniffling and whimpering more the harder and deeper he went.

His tongue sweeped across your cheek, wipping the salty liquid away from your face but that only made you cry harder. It hurt, but the fact it felt good and that Ivar was the one doing this were far wprse than the physical pain you were feeling.

"F-Fuck."He groaned m, his thrusts getting sloppy. You didn't even bother -or trust yourself- to plead him to pull out, the screams you held under your tears at the knot in your belly tightening would spill out right away if you tried to speak.

"Open your mouth." He panted, and seeing as you ignored his command he forced your jaw open and held your tongue down with two fingers. He spat in your mouth and closed it, watching you closely. "Swallow." You did as he said this time, gagging at the spit that went down your throat combined with all the crying.

"Do you want my seed?" He bit his bottom lip, he obviously knew the answer to that, but he wanted to hear you.

"Ivar, no!" You screamed, and he pulled your head back. You hiccuped, shaking your head 'no'. He grabbed your hair and asked again, his hips rutting into you desperately.

"I don't care." He mumbled and thrust particularly hard inside you, sending jolts of pain and pleasure all over your body. Your own orgasm silently overtook you no matter how hard you tried to deny it, the feeling of your clit brushing against the fur and his warm seed filling you up send you over the edge.

He moved off of you and laid on his back next to you, confused by your reaction. He had passed countless warriors raping women, and every single one screamed and cried, and hit them, but you were quiet. He sighed and brushed your hair out of your face, meeting your tear stained face and puffy eyes.

You sniffled, shaking harder than before as you buried your face in his hand and leaned against the light touch. His breath hitched in his throat at the gesture. You didn't even seem to recognise that he was the one that hurt you. You just moved into him, desperately trying to hide in his embrace in an attempt to feel safe.

And against his better judgement, once more, he let you do whatever you want. Affection was something only his mother had ever showed him, and she wasn't the type to show it throught physical touch. He needed the soft touches, even though they felt foreign, the way his body tingled under your touch was more than enjoyable.

Strange how after he did something like this to you, he felt the need to protect you and take care of you. His guilt was nearly eating him alive while he watched you, passed out in his arms. How did the marriage he only agreed to out of spite and to end some rumors turn out like this?

#ivar au #ivar vikings #ivar smut #ivar x y/n #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar the king #ivar x you #ivar lothbrok #ivar imagine #ivar ragnarsson #vikings x you #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings ivar #vikings smut #vikings #forced marriage #ivar fanfic

765 notes · View notes

capncassas · 2 years

Text

Private Bath | Ivar x You

• word count–2461

• Ivar the Boneless x You

• Mentions: Period talk, soft!Ivar, SFW. (It’s my lady time of the month and honestly, I’d like some chocolate and an Ivar sized heating pad, pretty please.)

• If you would like to be added to my Ivar taglist, feel free to let me know. Please do not repost my writing anywhere else – reblogs, comments, likes are all appreciated.

"Slave!"

Ivar snapped.

He was perched on his throne. The great hall was empty, mid-day and everyone who would have filled this space was about conducting business as usual. Preparation for a new raid was underway. Ivar seemed almost impossibly irritated by the slow progress. He was ready to be away from Kattegat.

"Yes, my King."

You learned a long time ago, after you were brought to this place, before Ivar was called king to be proactive when he was in one of his moods. He could merely be contemplating murdering you instead of outright planning it, so best to stay on his good side. Whichever side that was at the time?

"Why are you so slow today?" Ivar drug the words out in an exhausted manner, as if merely watching you go about your usual business was boring him. Perhaps next he'd ask you to perform some mundane task while walking on your hands and using your feet to play some instrument for his amusement.

"I am sorry my King, I do not mean to be slow, I- I will do my best to be more... expedient in my chores."

Another sharp pain from your abdomen made you press the heel of your hand into the lower portion of your belly. You were colder today than any other say so far this fortnight, thus you'd piled on another layer and a shawl despite that winter had not come in full swing to Kattegat.

Ivar wasn't wrong about his watching. You'd been lingering closer to the fire. And anything you could bring closer to the fire you did - from there your chores were being done. Rarely, Ivar noticed what you were doing. He wasn't unkind, in his own way - but he never let you forget what you were. A slave. It meant little to you. It was all you knew.

"Bring me more mead than. This has a taste of stale horse piss."

He tapped the pitcher with his finger.

Ivar, for whatever reason, with his words, almost always made you smile or laugh, though you tried to hide it. He had a - colorful - way with his words and you did not always know when he was being serious or if he was joking. You didn't openly laugh - the last thing you had wanted for was Ivar to think you were laughing at him.

"I will be happy to, my King."

You gathered your skirts, pulling them up so not to trip on them as you climbed the dais to retrieve the offending item and get it out of his sight.

When you lifted the full pitcher, your stomach cramped, but what you took notice of was Ivar's hand caressing the slight swell of your belly. You were always a little extra. Where other ladies were thin or knobby and the shield maidens seemed as muscular as the Viking men, you were soft in their hard places and round in the shoulders with plump little arms and legs. Some men had been keen to call you 'stocky'. Your hips always seemed to swell outward to meet the heavy base of your thighs. They resembled flesh made tree trunks. Or at least that was how you saw them. And your belly, it pouched in a manner that was most unpleasant to you.

You'd have made a dairy farmer a fine wife. That was what your mother said when you were twelve and she sold you to the slavers. A work horse, best used in hard labor.

"So warm."

Ivar had most peculiar eyes, so blue they could make the deepest ocean jealous. There was an old tale that said Ivar's eyes became even bluer when he was in danger. You supposed since they were still calm and had not turned stormy today, he wasn't in danger of a sneak attack.

His broad hand flattened over your middle, palming the soft roll of your belly.

He contemplated you a second longer before he withdrew his hand and waved you off. "Go on then."

You turned and moved faster than you had all day.

The casks of mead had been depleted the night before. Events in the great hall were plentiful. It always seemed that your king had a desperate yearning to be seen as anything other than what he was perceived to be. A cripple. You had seen cripples before in your life. Often men but there had been a few women - those pitiful creatures had been thrown to the dogs, but the men somehow made themselves busy. They couldn't even use a crutch as Ivar did, or drag themselves around. They lacked the upper body strength. You didn't see Ivar as incapable or cripple but perhaps deep down that was the drive, the means of his motivation. He would always see himself as the crippled boy.

Hurrying with your task, you replaced all the casks of mead from the night before and hammered in their taps before finding a fresh pitcher and filled it. You even found a clean cup. It wouldn't matter much if the mead was fresh if it was being poured into a tainted cup. The matter took more time than you realized as you hurried back but Ivar was not where you'd left him.

Concerned that this spelled trouble for you, you got busy, ignoring the limitations you wanted to yield to. How would you ever believe you could be like a shield maiden, regardless that you were a slave, if you never pushed yourself? Deep inside a small voice begged you to at least try. You fluffed the pillows and furs on Ivar's throne and cleaned away any unsightly debris that could make his foul mood of the day worse.

"What took you so long?"

Ivar stood, leaning on his crutch. Demanding.

His appearance had changed.

The braids in his hair were loosened until his shoulder length hair touched his shoulders and he'd removed his shirt.

You'd seen men shirtless before, but Ivar. You glanced and then quickly looked away, directing your gaze more purposefully on what you were doing as your cheeks flushed.

The many intricate tattoos that slipped from his back and over his shoulder onto his chest were beautiful. Markings of his voyages and the many battles he'd won. Because of his particular disability, it gave him a certain edge.

"I...I'm sorry my King. I should have hurried."

Ivar wouldn't be interested in an excuse so you didn't bother offering him one.

"Were you just dragging your feet and hugging your belly, or is there a reason you took so long?"

His crutch thumped on the scarred hardwood as he came closer.

His height was always something that surprised you when you entered his presence and he chose to stand. Even leaning on his crutch his height was noted. The top of your head reached just below his shoulder.

"No. I wasn't."

You trembled slightly. How could he stand so comfortably in this chill? The temperature further from the fires seemed to bother him very little while his crutch thumped closer and you could feel the heat of his chest close to your shoulder and that side of your body.

"Then what were you doing, slave? Answer me."

You opened your lips to speak -

"Look at me."

Your eyes snapped to his.

Ivar had moved so close that you almost stumbled back but his hand, one not holding his crutch grabbed your hip and steadied you, if that, he pulled you even closer. Until your abdomen pressed against the groin covered laces of his trousers.

"I did as you asked. I ...went to get a fresh pitcher of mead but the casks from last night hadn't been replaced yet so, I replaced them and then, I wanted to get you a clean cup because it...seemed like a fruitless effort to bring fresh mead and not a fresh cup too."

As you spoke, your arms curled up against your chest, fingers tangling in the loose hair and braids of hair that fell around your shoulders and breasts. A protective instinct.

His brow pulled down, inspecting your face, for what felt like forever he was holding you, seemingly taking you apart with his eyes.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Blinking, you didn't know how to answer him. Was his question a joke? It seemed like everyone both loved and feared Ivar. Mostly feared but no one considered a revolt, the mere notion seemed to hazardous an endeavor. And if you killed one son of Ragnar, there were four others to take his place - sullen as they may appear at times toward their brother, familial bonds would assure vengeance.

"I...don't like it when you're angry with me, but...I don't think what I feel is fear."

"Then what is it you do feel?"

You swallowed, feeling tired against the warmth his body gave. If you could close your eyes a moment, just to clear the fog in your mind but he was waiting for an answer.

"I don't know." You said dumbly.

Dumb as it may be, it was the only appropriate answer you could give him. You didn't like it when Ivar was angry with you because it turned sullen and dejected. His eyes would darken and his brow would crease as if something was giving him great mental pain. When he was in a more jovial mood, his eyes sparkled, his whole face light up with something akin to real joy. He was capable of great conversation; he had ideas, things you'd heard no one else speak of and when he was like this, you enjoyed lingering closer to listen.

"I want a bath. Come on."

Ivar gripped your hip a little more roughly before pulling you beneath his arm, using your shoulders to brace himself against your body. You had to wrap your arm around his back, the other around him so that your hand rested on his upper abdomen as he walked back to his private chambers.

Another slave was pouring a heavy bucket of steaming water into a tub in the corner, but she didn't look at Ivar or you. She poured the water and left through another door as if she'd never been there.

Ivar moved to the side of the tub, settling on it as he picked and pulled at the rawhide laces of his trousers.

"Pull them off my legs."

Gulping, you removed his shoes and gripped the ends of his pant legs as he pushed them down his hips. His cock was impressive. You knew it was. Others talked. Sometimes he ordered his slaves to stay when he entered the tub. To wash him, his hair. He enjoyed being touched, but the events usually ended with Ivar shouting at them to leave him and then pulling himself from the tub and dragging himself to his bed before shouting for mead.

They talked about rumors they heard but couldn't be confirmed though they made their own assumptions about their King.

The poor crippled King who would likely never marry and never have children.

His cock didn't work. You likely reasoned that the rumors came from his brothers. That because of his legs, he couldn't satisfy a woman with his cock. You knew nothing, but it didn't seem to make sense. What did his legs have to do with his ability to make love?

You stripped his legs, his thighs seemed to be well muscled, calves as well. It was not an issue of muscle, but the bone itself. That's why they called him Boneless.

"Come here." Ivar said, holding his arm out to hold on to your waist as he turned, placing one leg and then the other into the tub. You didn't offer to help, that wasn't what he asked you. He could do it himself and he released a sigh as he sunk into the heated waters depths.

"Take your clothes off."

Inhaling slowly, you shook your head.

"I can't."

Ivar's lips curled at the corners. The same leer you'd seen directed at others stared directly back at you.

"You've all your limbs, hands, fingers, toes. Of course, you can. Take them off."

You pressed your lips together, pinching them between your teeth.

"My King I'm -"

"Bleeding? I know. Take off your clothes, then get into the bath. If you aren't afraid of me, this shouldn't be an issue."

He knew?

Air whistles through your teeth as you took your shawl off, tugging at the lacings of your dress, letting it slid down your shoulders and pool at your feet. Save for the menstruation belt at your waist and covering you, you were naked. Vikings did not bother with angst of their bodies, but this was your King. And you hesitated before your fingers picked at the soft wrapped straps that clung to your hips before you slipped out of the belt and inhaled quickly.

You moved in such a way that you were not quick, but you weren't slow, either. Stepping into the tub, Ivar moved his legs.

"Right here, sit so your back is against my chest."

You swallowed, turning your back to him before lowering yourself into the water. Almost as soon as you stretched your legs out and eased back, Ivar's hands were rested on your abdomen, almost massaging as the heat from the water eased the cramping and tension from your back and legs. The pain in your abdomen eased, and you felt relaxed.

Ivar's chin eased to your shoulder as you watched his hands on your stomach beneath the water.

"The heat has always helped me when I was in pain, its not possible to stay like this - but... if you need this from time to time, you don't need to hide it or endure it always."

You thought for a moment, nodding gently. The free women didn't use the communal baths when they had their blood. They didn't hide it but they bathed in their homes - you didn't have a home, so going to the communal baths wasn't optional and you stayed clean as well as you could. At least no one had ever mentioned you needed a bath.

"I apologize if... perhaps my smell was offensive. I clean, as well as I can, during this time." You admitted as much, though you felt him shaking his head.

"You weren't."

"Thank you."

You murmured under a breath, cautioning yourself, though the act happened just as easily as you held his hand.

It occurred to you, as suddenly as Ivar's moods could change - he understood pain. It was his oldest and closest friend. He enjoyed relieving pain just as much as inflicting it on those he deemed deserving of it.

#Vikings #Ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar the king #Ivar Ragnarsson #ivar x you #Ivar Fan Fiction #Period Talk #soft!ivar

178 notes · View notes

barnes-lothbrok · 2 years

Text

Quick edit created by myself due to my current unhealthy obsession with Ivar

#ivar vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar the king #alex høgh andersen

59 notes · View notes

katttiia · 1 year

Text

7 different Alexa personalities, which do you like the most? 👑

#alex høgh andersen #ivar lothbrok #ragnar lothbrok #viking #vikings #valhallaedit #blue eyes #fan edit #ivar the king #ivar the boneless #viaplay

13 notes · View notes

motionless-friction · 2 years

Text

I made an Ivar edit!

What do you think?

@l0vel3ss-l1nds3y

@enitysworld

(Made on an app called Picsart, my username on there is Motionless1Friction.)

#wallpaper #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar the king #alex hogh andersen #alex høgh andersen #ivar #Ivar edit #vikings #vikings edit #Ivar the boneless edit #picture edit #my edits #I'm seriously proud of this one #like 😍😍😍😍

39 notes · View notes

not-that-syndrigast · 1 year

Text

What are your Vikings sexuality headcanons?

#vikings #headcanon #ragnar lothbrok #lagertha #ubbe ragnarsson #hvitserk #björn ironside #sigurd ragnarsson #ivar the king #athelstan

13 notes · View notes

yasminasblog · 2 years

Text

#alex hogh andersen #travis fimmel #love u king #vikings #ragnar lothbrok #nice #ivar the king #denmark #jordan

12 notes · View notes

underscorewriting · 1 year

Note

Could you do one where the reader is Lagertha younger sister and in a relationship with ivar the boneless

this. this is the one I might be the most excited for to write!

Thank you for your request :)

May the gods forbid.

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Warnings: Language probably?

Words: 2.425

This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was. He wasn't supposed to happen. The gods were playing tricks on her, this couldn't be real. She wanted to hate him, hate how he despised her sister. He was a smartass, an arrogant little boy with anger issues if something didn't go his way.

One son of Ragnar was her greatest fear for her younger sister. Ivar. He was unpredictable and even though the girl was taught how to fight, Lagertha knew that she would not be good enough to protect herself from him. That was the main reason why Lagrtha forbid her sister to leave her side. Lagertha was always very protective of her, even more when the sons of Aslaug and Ragnar started planning to kill her or hurt her the same way she hurt them by killing their mother.

So one night when the girl was upset and searched for a place to hide away, she walked into the woods. Flokis and Helgas place always brought her the most comfort when her and Lagertha fought, those were the times she thought the girl was quietly in her chamber. Sitting down in a small meadow, she leaned back, watching the stars, inhaling the fresh air.

Rustling behind her made her hand quickly shoot to the dagger she kept on her thigh. "Well don't you look cozy." The cold voice of the prince made her flinch as she sat up completely, her body being on alert if he tried anything. "What do you want, Ivar?" The exhaustion from was as clear in her voice and how she said his name as it was on her face. She didn't want to live like this. To live a life that held nothing for her, since she wasn't allowed to do much. Even her nephew Björn was always watching over her when he was here.

Tilting his head Ivar studied her face for a second before crawling over to her and settling down besides her. "I decided I won't kill you." He pursed his lips looking over at her a playful glint in his eyes. "Not yet at least." A small smile pulled at her lips as she averted her face. "Ubbe told us about how Lagertha screamed at you. She was always quiet..." A stern glare from the girl made the boy hold his hands up in defense, a small smirk on his face as he saw her hand moving away from the dagger, finally starting to relax.

Ivar was a simple man, his plan to kill Lagertha was only left uncompleted due to his attraction to her little sister and now having her here in front of him was something he didn't know he longed for. Looking back up at the sky she sighed in frustration. "How is the world out there? You traveled didn't you?" Sitting up straight she turned to him.

The young princes eyebrows raised in surprise as he smiled slightly. "The world is huge, it has so much to see." pouting slightly the girl cursed her sister as she listened to Ivars stories. He told her all about Wessex and the people there, how different their belief are from theirs, which she as well found hilarious. As the night turned colder they took the path back to their home. Not once did they stop talking about what he saw out there and what she would want to see once she'll get out there.

"Gods, I want to see the world, Ivar." Smiling softly she twirled and inhaled the fresh air. Watching her Ivar felt his heart swell at the sight of her carefreeness. "I want to show it to you." His tone was serious and when she looked at him she saw the sincerity in his eyes. "Ivar..." Her voice was a mere whisper, shaking her head she sat down in the dirt near a haystack.

"We can't. Lagertha would never allow this. She wouldn't allow us, Ivar..." She was desperate for him to understand that this would never happen, but he was not having any of it. He would take what he want and if he wanted to have her, then he was going to have her. "Your sister does not control you, nor does anyone else. You should be able to live your life how you want it to be, the gods forbid that you won't live it to the fullest."

Looking around she kissed his cheek quickly. "I'll meet with you in the meadow tomorrow night, don't be late!" She turned around as she quickly ran to her chambers, smiling brightly at him before entering. The young prince couldn't help but grin at her actions, feeling a little giddy himself.

After that night they started sneaking around at night, only sharing small meaningful glances at each other when they passed one another or during a feast. Soon Lagertha grew suspicious, but not because she noticed any of the glances, no, it was because suddenly her sister started training more, stopped questioning her about being able to travel. It was as if she suddenly stopped caring about all that.

Ubbe offered to train with her, Lagertha trusted him so she allowed him to take her sister to the woods during the day as well. Ivar told his brothers about her and how he wanted to see her at any costs as much as he could. In the woods the four of them would train, Ivar didn't trust Sigurd close to her, due to disgusting glances he threw her way when she was merely visiting them over the past years.

She soon found herself growing closer to the brothers and feeling accepted by them. Freedom, was so close she could almost taste it. Walking with Ivar at night was her newly found escape, after he got his greave done for his legs and fixed up his crutches they could even hold hands while walking. Him rubbing her hand soothingly with his thumb, placing ocationally kisses onto her palm , whenever she talked about something that upset her. He enjoyed listening to her almost as much as her gentle kisses he would get to feel whenever his pain was unbearable.

They balanced each other nicely and after a few months the word marriage appeared more and more in their talks about their future. The girl was scared of how her sister would react to her and the youngest Ragnarsson being inseparable and spent every minute they could together.

But she didn't need to tell her, because one day during her and Ubbes training lessons, while she was play fighting with Ivar . Lagertha walked up the path, none of them noticed her sharp eyes watching. Ivar had her pinned down, laughing while she tried to push him of before rolling over and sitting on his stomach, having the prince at her mercy making her grin down at him.

Ubbe and Hvitserk were watching them, drinking ale and laughing at what the other said. Lagertha was disappointed in her, why didn’t she tell her that they were lovers? She continues watching them and filled an old familiar pain in her heart. Ivar was holding her sister now, not strong enough to hurt but strong enough to let her know he had control over the situation but her sister seemed completely fine with it as she leaned into his chest looking up at him with gentle eyes and a loving smile.

Ivars smile matched hers and in this exact moment Lagertha realized that she kept her sister protected from the most beautiful thing out there, a thing she herself shared with Ragnar even after his death. Love. Ivar was similar to Ragnar in many ways, but with her in his arms he resembled his father more than anyone would guess. Of course, she didn’t want her sister to be with someone like Ivar, he was dangerous, but if it is him that makes her as happy as she is right now, then that is all she would ask for.

Returning to her throne back in the great hall Lagertha couldn’t stop thinking about how she should’ve noticed the signs. Ivar was more around than he used to be, it wasn’t his normal behavior. Besides he was being a lot kinder than usual. As Torvi entered the great hall she noticed how lost in thoughts the queen was. „What is the matter?“ She said as she walked next to to sit down by her side. „Did you know about Ivar and my sister?“ Lagertha turned to Torvi catching the younger woman smile apologetic. „Ubbe said I wasn’t supposed to tell you, I apologize.“

As she heard giggles and laughter she could tell the four of them were coming closer, she prepared herself to confront her sister about this. But how was she supposed to? She was spying on her when she found out, not having had one good reason to walk out there in the woods except to check up on her actually being there. Ubbe was the first one to walk into the great hall, he noticed something was up when Torvi didn’t greet him right away. The girl was still outside giggling and whispering. Her whispers could be heard in the whole hall. Quietness settled in as the last three of them walked in, the girl walking a little behind but smiling brightly whenever Ivar would turn around to see if she was still there with him.

„Hello sister!“ The girl greeted and smiles brightly at Lagertha. The queen did not respond, making her feel uneasy as she glanced toward Ubbe, who sighed quietly looking down. Instantly the girl knew what was going on. Panicking she walked closer to her, a nervous laugh escaping her as she looked back to Ivar in reassurance. „It isn’t like you think…“ Lagerthas raised an eyebrow making the girl feel even more uneasy. „Well then how is it? Because it looks like my sister is keeping secrets from me. Keeping secrets because she thinks I don’t want to see her happy or loved.“

The girl gasped softly wondering just how much her sister had seen. „Lagertha, I promise you I do not have any intentions behind my bond with your sister. It’s about her not about you or how you killed my mother.“ Ivar broke the silence looking at Lagertha with pure hatred but his eyes seemed to soften when he looked over at the girl standing close to her. The girl flinched at Ivars harsh words. The woman on the throne couldn’t stop herself from laughing. „I did not even think about that for a second Ivar, because you wouldn’t even be able to.“

„Sister, Ivar would be capable of ruling over Kattegat just as well as you are. His ideas for this village are incredible. If you would just listen to them you’d see how capable he would be to do everything he wanted to.“ With wide eyes the girl just realized what she said, covering her mouth she looked down. „I’m sorry I spoke out of tune.“ Lagertha studied her and saw a lot of how she acted because of Ragnar in her sister, smiling slightly. As her eyes wandered to Ivar, she caught him smirking, his eyes glistening with pride and love as his eyes wandered over her figure.

Getting of her throne Lagertha stopped only in front of her. Her hand went up to cup her cheek, making the girl flinch. The boy tried to crawl over to them making sure the girl stayed unharmed, but Ubbe held him back making the young boy fight against his hold. „He makes you happy, doesn’t he?“ Lagerthas voice was quiet as she smiled down at her sister softly. Nodding her head the girl looked back up at her. „More than anything.“ Her eyes held a sincerity that the woman saw rarely. She was a bit taken aback by her truthfulness. Of course, she was upset about it having to be Ivar. Hvitserk would’ve been easier to accept but sadly that’s not what happened. „How could it be him, he is cruel and no good for you, my sweet sister…“ She could see Ivar lowering his head, knowing that Lagertha was right about him being cruel, not being good enough for the girl.

„He wants to show me the world. He isn’t cruel, he is just easy to upset and in pain, Lagertha…“ Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about how bad Ivars legs had been these past weeks. „The gods are cruel to him sometimes, so I pray. I pray to them to stop it and he starts to feel better. He is not a cruel man, Lagertha. He just isn’t!“ Her hands were trembling as she clenched them into fists. Lagertha could only stare at her in shock. For how long was their relationship kept a secret from her? „How long did you feel like this about him?“ She grew angry for being held in the dark that long. „All of this started a little over six months ago…“ The girls head hung low as she fidgeted with her fingers.

Looking at her hand she noticed a little mark on her ring finger looking over at Ivar she saw the same small mark on the same finger. „You’re thinking about marriage…“ She gasped quietly taking a step back from her sister. „I accept your decision, but I do not support it. Though I will give you my blessing only because I haven’t seen you happy like this in ages. You are my little sister and I love you and I want you to be loved. As much as I don’t like Ivar, I have to say that he truly seems to love you and care for you.“ Smiling widely the girl hugged her sister tightly, throwing her arms around her. „Thank you!“ She repeated those words until she turned to Ivar grinning at him shyly.

Ivar walked over to her cupping her cheek before he kissed her forehead and leaned his against hers. „I told it would work out somehow, my love. May the gods forbid anything would part us until we both are on our way to dine with the gods in Valhalla.“

Lagertha couldn’t fight the smile as she watched the both of them. Even though she disliked Ivar, she was certain he would treat her right. Maybe even better than Ragnar treater her. She could tell in his smile, in his eyes, in every action towards her sister, that he adored her.

#ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar x reader #ivar fluff #ivar imagine #vikings #vikings fanfiction #ivar the king #ivar x you #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar fanfic #vikings ivar #modern ivar #ivar x oc #ivar vikings #ivar smut

295 notes · View notes