Heathen Slut

Check out my writing!😌

[pagan-raider]

This was posted on @riseoftheboneless’s instagram and originally made by @brains4closers but I thought you all should see this because it is so awesome. 

It’s like a glimpse into the future and it’s really doing things to me!!

[sigyncreation-deactivated202106]

[sigyncreation-deactivated202106]

Vikings S05E11 - The Revelation

[honestsycrets]

Playing with the colours on my gifs. They’re coming out better.

[sigyncreation-deactivated202106]

[honestsycrets]

Fallen Ivar || Season 6 Trailer

[slutforragnarssons]

Still a hottie🥵

[drogons]

Lagertha | Vikings Season 6 Trailer [x]

[slutforragnarssons]

Shells

Synopsis: When Bjorn meets a slave in a new land, he starts to develop feelings.

Pairing: Bjorn x Male Reader

Warnings: mentions of sex

A/N: I’ve had really bad writer’s block and every time I start to write I just feel so dry as far as creativity goes. ☹️☹️

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The ships arrive at the docks early morning, just before sunrise, as I walk to the beach to grab shells for my mistress. She loves them, and often tasks me with creating various crowns and jewelery with the objects.

Upon finding hundreds of pink and orange shells, I fall to my knees and grab the beautiful shells with my worn fingertips. As I crawl along the beach, collecting them and placing them in my apron. I scramble towards a very large and beautiful shell, only to see another man’s hand scoop down and grab it. I peer up at him, and the rising sun slightly obscured my view of his face. I rise from my knees and stand in front of the man.

“Good morning sir. That is a beautiful shell you have found.” I say, wiping my filthy hands onto my apron. I smile at the man and he grins back at me, extending his hand, opening it to reveal the shell.

“Good morning to you too. I agree, this is a beautiful shell, but it seems you are collecting them, so I suppose I’ll let you have this one.” He winks and places the shell into my palm. My cheeks redden as I flash a grin at the tall man.

“Thank you, very much. I certainly appreciate your kindness. Forgive me for saying this, but It doesn’t appear that you are from here.” I say, and he nods, taking a seat on a flat rock near where I stand.

“You would be right about that. I come from the north. I travelled here with an associate to collect treasures to bring back to my home, Kattegat.” He explains, and i take a seat across from him, smiling and listening to his heavily accented words.

“That must have been a far travel, I imagine it would have taken years!” I comment, head turning as I hear my mistress yell for me. I scramble to my feet. “I apologize for leaving so soon, I’m glad that we met. I hope you enjoy your stay here. Goodbye!” I say and run to the other side of the beach to my mistress.

She is truly beautiful. Her light brown hair reaches past her slim waist, and her perfect facial features seem to fit the unrealistic flawless ness of the rest of her. She treats the other princesses and foreigners with such respect and kindness, but her slaves receive the worst treatment.

When I was born, my father owed the king for a loan he had taken in order to start our farm, and when he was unable to pay, my parents were forced to give my brother and I up as slave workers. In my early years I had relatively hard time adjusting to working, and received more beatings than any of the other slaves.

As I grew, it felt like for a short period, my master ignored me, giving me no attention at all- Good or bad. I would often hear the other slaves whispering about how our mistress had been caught whispering my name in the night. I ignored the accusations, but when she found out, I was given the worst beating I had ever received. My eye seemed to be swollen shut for a week, but I went on with my duties.

I enter the home on the far side, slipping through the various servant quarters in order to reach the main hall, where mistress sleeps. I dart into her room, shells in hand. She points at the small chestnut table, with wires and small tools scattered upon its top.

“I needs neacklace for tonight. It turns out a foreign prince is visiting, and he is quite handsome. I need something to impress. And I need a new dress as well. Something that shows of my figure. Can you do that by tonight?” She asks, tone surprisingly sweet, but still ever so demanding.

“Yes, Princess. I will start now.” I walk briskly over to the low table and take my seat on the small pillow, setting out the shells, and stringing together each shell on a string.

After finishing a new dress and jewelry, I set the items out o her bed and go to my quarters, fingers bleeding from the amount of work. After sitting in my bed for only a minute, I decide to go down to the beach. It was the only place I felt truly at home.

This time there’s no one in sight. Every slave is no doubt busy cooking or cleaning, but I’ve snuck off to have alone time. This is why my beatings are so bad. After I’ve had time to think, I walk back up to the home. I enter my mistress’ room to help her dress, only to see her participating in what I could only assume was her favorite activity. It’s not something unusual, so I close my eyes and exit the room.

I head down to the kitchen, walking quickly through the dining room in order to not be seen. I glance over and see the man from the beach. He grips my wrist and stops me.

“Was it you? “ He seethes, and I look at him with a questioning expression. “Did you take her? The princess? The one who promised to join me?” He asks, and the men beside him laugh.

“Him? No, he’s one of the filthy slaves, wouldn’t be caught dead with a woman. Saw him once with a hand down another slave’s pants.” The men laugh, and I cower in shame. Finally I release my hand from his grip and run into the kitchen. I hear his thudding footsteps as he catches up to me, but I ignore the sound.

Once I get to the corner of the open kitchen, I sit next to my brother on a stool, resting my head on his shoulder. He’s maybe a decade older, with emerald eyes and dark hair. Although he has more than his fair share of burdens, he never shuns me when I come to him with my own problems.

The man continues to follow, placing a large hand on my shoulder. I close my eyes and listen to his heavy breathing. “You. Come with me. Now.” He says, and I glance at my brother, whose soft stare tells me to obey the man, and be cautious. I walk with him out the small door in the kitchen, And down into the alley between the homes. “So, you’re a slave? You didn’t tell me that when we met.” He comments, and I sigh in response.

“Well... I didn’t see it to be necessary. Yes, I am a slave, but that does not define me. I am many other things. Forgive me sir.” I say, voice low as my eyes stay trained on my dirty bare feet.

He nods in response, and I watch as he stops, tilting my chin up to look at his face. “I can take you away. I can take you to Kattegat and teach you our ways. If you’d like.” He says, and i nod eagerly in response. I watch as his eyes light up and he gives a nod. “We leave tonight. Gather anything you might want.” He says, squeezing my hand in his large one.

“We meet on the beach?” I ask him and watch as he nods, before walking back into the home. That night I brush mistress’ hair, and hang the dress in her wardrobe before blowing out her candle. For the first time, I’m thankful that she falls asleep quickly. I gather the shell necklaces and bracelets I had crafted for her over the years, as well as some of the beautiful gold items I had always admired. I race down to the quarters I share with my brother, and slowly wake him.

He sits up in his bed and looks around, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Brother? What is it?” He asks, and I embrace him tightly.

“Brother, I am leaving this place. I am traveling to a new land. Take this to remind you of me. I will never forget you.” I say, pressing my necklace into his hand. He sits up and hugs me back, wiping a stray tear from my cheek.

“Don’t feel bad. I always intended to help you escape. Go live a proper life. I love you.” He says, before I run down to the beach. The ships are already loaded, men scrambling to get on. I run down to the area by the rocks, and see the man.

His gaze meets mine and I throw my sack over my shoulder as my feet carry me to him. Grabs my hand in his and pulls me onto the ship.

“I’m sorry we haven’t had time for proper introductions. I’m Bjorn. And you are to be my husband.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@pxstelrainbow @readsalot73 @kitkat1690 @attorneyl @sea-phoam-qyueen @bang-kim-bap @tephi101

[slutforragnarssons]

Masterlist

Ivar Lothbrok

Brat

Toddi Okkarr Part 1

Toddi Okkarr Part 2

Toddi Okkarr Part 3

Toddi Okkarr Part 4

Toddi Okkarr Part 5

Toddi Okkarr Part 6

Toddi Okkarr Part 7

Conquer Part 1

Conquer Part 2

Conquer Part 3

Conquer Part 4

Darling Part 1

Darling Part 2

Darling Part 3

God Save Me

A Son For the One They Call Ivar the Boneless

Mama Bear

Ragnar Lothbrok

Candy Girl Part 1

Candy Girl Part 2

Candy Girl Part 3

Candy Girl Part 4

Candy Girl Part 5

Candy Girl Part 6

Candy Girl Part 7

Candy Girl Part 8

Candy Girl Part 9

Stay At Home Daddy

Accidents

Ubbe Lothbrok

Ready

Room

Plenty Sons

Lost

Hvitserk Lothbrok

Snack

Bjorn Lothbrok

Little Girl

Not so Little Girl

Little Woman

Little Lamb

Babysitter

Swollen

Like Father Like Son

Prompt Lists

Prompt List #1

Requests

Hvitserk and Ubbe

Ivar

Ragnar

Hvitserk and Ubbe

Bjorn

Hvitserk

Up to date as of 7/10/18

[slutforragnarssons]

Accidents

Synopsis: One night Ragnar has a casual hook up with a young bartender in New York. He expects this to be their only encounter. He’s dead wrong.

Pairing: Modern!Ragnar x Reader

Warnings: Smut

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He was beautiful. He may have been at least two decades older but it hardly felt like it in bed. His body was sculpted like a Greek statue, an ddespite the forming wrinkles, he was one of the most attractive men in the bar that night.

It had been rainy, and an altogether high traffic evening; everyone from travelers to people getting off of work popped in for a drink. The job had its perks, so occasionally I would get to meet local celebrities or athletes no one really knew of. What I didn’t expect was to serve scotch to the man that owned more than half the town.

My hand grips the bottle as I pour a double for the man in the suit. Talk about a high profile customer. Jessica had claimed she had once served Britney Spears, but nobody actually believed her. I slide over the glass and set the bottle back down in its place.

“Midnight on a Tuesday, and you’re buying drinks in a run down bar. So, how bad was today?” I ask, leaning on my hand as I wait for an answer. The man gives a sly smirk and sighs.

“Actually, it wasn’t bad. It was horrible. A dozen workers quit today and then on top of all of that my car was stolen. So, shit day if you ask me.” He responds, and I nod, pouting another glass for him as he finishes his first.

“That sounds pretty horrible, but, the upside is that the good days feel better after the shit days.” I respond, cleaning off a spot farther down the bar and watching as the last customer leaves. The man looks around, and then at a sign behind me.

“I guess you are right young lady, beautiful and witty. Tell me, you have a husband? A fiancé?” He inquires, and I blush slightly as I shake my head. Of course I wasn’t supposed to hookup with the customers, but one this hot, I’d have to make an acception for.

“No sir, just me. Long shifts and college classes don’t leave much time for socializing. I’m lucky to be able to have enough time to sit down and have a real meal once a week.” I confide and pour myself a glass of water. As I turn around I can feel his eyes glued to my ass.

“Hmm... so, how about you head home with me? Assuming you have no kids or houseplants back at home. We can both relieve some tension.” He smirks and holds out a hand. I smile and continue closing up before walking to the door with him.

“This is totally against any rules we have here but let’s do it.” I smile and follow the man out the door. Could he be a serial killer? Yes. Could he be a rapist? Yes. But he’s so cute, so I ignore my inner voices and leave with him.

He guides me to what I can only assume is an incredibly expensive car, and helps me into the passenger seat. We drove to an neighborhood that looks like something out of a movie, and he pulls up to a large home. He helps me out and leads me into the home.

We walk inside of the building and I marvel at the lavishly decorated walls. All tasteful, and no doubt quite expensive. “Wow, this is a beautiful home...” I trail off, searching for a name.

“Thank you. You can call me Ragnar. Daddy gets me worked up too so feel free to call me that. And what shall I call you young lady?” He smirks as he leads me to the kitchen, bringing a bottle of wine out from under the counter and pouring two glasses.

I blush ever so slightly at his comment, and smile, sitting down on barstools across from him. “Oh, my name is (Y/N). You can call me that.” I grin and take the glass as he slides it across the granite towards me.

“Beautiful name. Fitting for such a beautiful woman.” He comments, finishing up his glass of wine before refilling mine. The two of us make small talk as we finish not two, but grew bottles of wine. By the end of the second bottle I’ve started to let my guard down, and have started to trust him more than I had originally.

Halfway through the third bottle I start to feel hot, so naturally I remove my jacket, and then my shirt. I watch as Ragnar hawks at my chest, and grab his hand, standing on somewhat shaky legs. “Cmon Daddy. Let’s go somewhere comfy.” I say, tugging on his arm in no particular direction.

Clearly the older man holds his wine better than I do, so he guides us to a bedroom, where he lays me on the plush bed. I watch as his fingers quickly unbutton the black buttons lining his shirt, and smirk as the shirt hits the floor. He kneels over me and I shimmy out of my jeans, helping him to unzip his pants and push them off of his hips. After a few heated kisses and a few accidental elbow jabbings, we’re both naked horny messes.

Ragnar’s heavy breath fans against my face as his large hands reach down to rub my clit. “What should I do first?” He asks, more speaking to himself than me, I assure myself. I watch as two of his large fingers delve into my dripping hole. After what feels like only a second, he swiftly removes his fingers and replaces them with his cock.

Surely I must have miscalculated its size, because by the time his shaft it about halfway emerged into my heat, I feel more full that I ever have. My quiet moans aren’t enough for him, so his voice finally booms out about the sounds of skin slapping and nearly silent moans and groans.

“Say my name. Say my name. Fuck- so tight- so good.” He groans out before burying his head into the crook of my neck, leaving sloppy kisses on my shoulder. I whimper and let my nails dig farther into his shoulder.

“R-Ragnar! Fuck! Please- fuck me harder please!” I beg him, watching as a pleased look spreads across his face, and his hips piston harder into mine, leaving me feeling even more full, of that’s even possible.

His hips slamming into mine and his finger persistently circling my clit lead me to my orgasm quicker than expected. I feel his hot semen fill my belly only seconds after my own orgasm, and after a quick second of panick, I calm, assuring myself that this hookup couldn’t get me pregnant. I’m on the pill. He pulls out and pumps himself, shooting his remaining load onto my chest and stomach.

By the time his body falls next to mine in bed, I’m sleeping, after a long shift and a good fuck, I can’t keep my eyes open, and in the comfortable bed I find myself asleep in seconds.

I wake early, earlier than him, and collect my clothing, scrambling down the marble stairs to retrieve my shoes and jacket. I check my phone and see that it’s well past 8. I’m late for my lecture, shit. I’m out of the house in ten minutes. Hopefully he doesn’t remember me, I sure as hell don’t want him to.

After one hell of a pleasant night, and 6 unpleasant months of pregnancy, I’m now the heavily pregnant bartender. My boss knows that I need to hours with a baby on the way and no father in the picture, so he lets me work the slower days when I won’t get people critisizing me for working in a bar while carrying a child.

It’s Sunday, nearly 5pm, our slowest time, so I sit down behind the bar and munch on some peanuts, waiting for customers. Just before closing, a man comes in with a heavy raincoat on. I know I recognize him just by the way he walks. So confident. So sure of every step. He sits down at the bar and my eyes dart up.

“What can I get you, sir?” I ask and my smile slowly drops as I finally get a good look at his face. I see his face doesn’t hold a smile either.

“How about a fucking explanation? What kind of bullshit move is this? Who set you up to this? You don’t think I haven’t had attention whore gold diggers try this before?” He berated me with questions and I feel sick and attacked, tears welling in my eyes. I go to defend myself and he immediately cuts me off.

“You planned this all, didn’t you. It must have been your fucking plan to have your face on the magazines, huh? Yeah? I hope you don’t expect me to pay shit unless I see a paternity test. This is fucking ridiculous!” He yells, not giving me a second to talk. By the time he’s finished yelling, the cook has come out from the back and is staring at the man. He walks over, telling Ragnar that he can’t speak to the workers that way, and asks him to leave. After a while, he storms out. I close up, tears still running down my face, and grab my bag.

I walk out of the back door and see him again. My feet carry me faster towards my apartment and I hear the patter of his feet getting closer. I have a sudden rush of confidence and stop abruptly, turning around.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, embarrassing me at work and making me feel like shit. I didn’t plan to get knocked up by you, because hey, newsflash, you’re a real assholes I don’t want a penny of child support and I sure as hell don’t want to be anywhere near you. I don’t want anything to do with you. Why do you think I never got in contact? I’m just fine raising him on my own , thank you. Now please fuck off. Thank you.” I yell back at him and walk faster towards my apartment. When I arrive I see him a still trailing me, but when I glance back once again, he’s gone.

I spend the next month trying to forget him, and forget the fact that my son will be born without a father. Sure, it’ll be hard, but since dropping out I’ve had a lot more money to buy nursery furniture and clothing for him, and I can start working regular days once my bump goes away. I assure myself that out little family would be alright.

That’s when it happens. On the way home from work te car comes speeding down the street and I feel as if I’m watching from outside of my body as the vehicle strikes me, leaving me on the hot asphalt. Blood drips down into my mouth as I lay there, and I feel a pair of arms embrace me as I lose conciousness.

When I wake, I’m in a hospital bed, and I look around the room to see a bouquet of beautiful pink and white flowers. Surely I’d had no visitors. Who visits a pregnant bartender? The answer to that question walks right in the door with a bottle of water not a minute later. His hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and even though he looks like hell, it’s still a nice look on him.

He rushes to my side and gives me a sad smile. “Hey, the baby is okay. He’s doing great. I’m sorry about all the shit I said. You know, I get it if you don’t want to forgive me. I’d understand. But please let me help with my son. Let me pay for the medical bills and pay for whatever he needs and if you don’t want to let me see him, fine. But please let me help.” He whispers and I can see the gear streaming down his face.

“How did you find me?” I ask, straightening in my bed. His eyes look down, avoiding my gaze, and he sighs.

“I had... I had my men, my security following you. To make sure that you were both safe. I’m glad a did. God knows how long you might have been there. Hours? We were just in time. He’s okay, didn’t feel a thing.” He says, and even though the thought of this asshole being in my sons life slightly upsets me, I feel comforted that he wants to help raise his son.

“No money. Just help. Just help me get to appointments and help me with the new Mom stuff. Maybe a month’s rent but I’ll pay you back for anything. I have to admit I was pissed at how you acted at first but I guess I understand where you were coming from. If you want to be in his life, I’m not going to stop you.” I say, and take a deep breath in, watching as his arms wrap around my small figure.

“Thank you. Thank you.” He whispers as he buries his face into my hair.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@sea-phoam-qyueen @kitkat1690 @bang-kim-bap @attorneyl @pxstelrainbow @readsalot73 @tephi101

[norsenightingale]

Vikings Follow Chain

Hey everyone!

Since I created a new blog and just recently rejoined the fandom, I thought it was time for another follow chain. I did one of these on my first blog (cherrytrinkets) and it helped me find 100+ friends and members of the fandom to talk to and obsess with! If you write for, blog about, or just generally love History Channel’s Vikings, follow the previous people, add your blog name and reblog so others can follow you!=] Skol!

Tagging some who may be interested:

@bluearchersstuff

@bonniebird

@wanderlustingandwandering

@salimahbicharara-comun

@missbrightlyred

@brightlycoloredteacups

@sammi-faye

[bluearchersstuff]

@rekdreams247 @fortress-fiction @oddsnendsfanfics @bloodyivar @ivarinleatherpants @ivarthefuckboy @tiyetiye

[bloodyivar]

@inthenameofodin @ivars-heathen @ivarthefuckboy @bonniebird @happydaysandersen @ivarshellcat @oddsnendsfanfics

[slutforragnarssons]

@honestsycrets @lupy22 @tephi101 @lol-haha-joke @feistybaby

[thorvalkyrie-deactivated2018010]

[ivarking]

sons of ragnar lothbrok + nature

[zamanlayolculukzararlasonbulur]

KİNG RAGNAR…

[slutforragnarssons]

This is in Turkish i believe. A rough translation is

“Why did you not tell them before?”

“Because I’m telling you.”

[houseoflothbrok]

Ivar The Boneless ↠ A Simple Story (05x09)

[timotay-chalamet]

My heart is broken It will repair, Ivar the Boneless: scourge of the world

[slutforragnarssons]

Darling Part 3

Synopsis: An unforeseen event occurs in the Lothbrok family, and the reader’s condition makes it feel all the worse.

Pairing: Gangster!Ivar x Reader

Warnings: slight angst, childbirth

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It had happened so fast. He left the home late in the morning after a hearty breakfast of toast and eggs, and had helped dress the children and send them off to visit their tutor. My belly was once again full of his children, two boys, the doctor had said. After a quick kiss, he left the home.

The day flew by, and by dinner, Ivar was not home. I was worried, but not tremendously. My husband knew how to handle himself. That’s what I thought. At around midnight, his brother Bjorn storms in, his brothers trailing behind him, an unconscious Ivar in their arms. He throws the flower vase and silverware off the table and places Ivar’s bloodied and bruised body onto it.

Upon hearing the ruckus, I run down the stairs, robe held tightly around my body. When I see Ivar. I nearly break out into a fit of sobbing, but know I can’t wake the children.

“He was shot. Bastard tried to convince Ivar to make an unfair deal. Ivar kept telling him no, but the bastard kept going and getting more personal. When he started asking about the kids Ivar snapped and tried to shoot the fucker, but his men got to Ivar first. He’s beat up. His leg... his leg... I don’t know if we can save it.” Bjorn explains and I run to the basement to grab a few bottles of gin and towels, as well as a knife, thread, and a needle Bjorn silently thanks me with a nod of his head and strips Ivar naked to assess the damage. All the men look away from their naked brother, except for Bjorn, who remains emotionless as he studies the various wounds on his brother’s body, I step closer and clean the dried and crusty blood so he can view the real damage.

His chest, riddled with tattoos appears to have the worst damage. Cuts to his chest and stomach seem the deepest, but Bjorn concludes that his left arm has been shattered in so many places it’s almost ridiculous to keep it on, and his right leg will be covered in twice as many scars as before. I insist that he try to do everything he can, demanding he put some sort of stents in my husband’s arm. I finally take a seat, trying to not overwhelm myself with stress. Hvitserk grabs me a glass of water and I try to ignore the faint contractions. When I stand, I’m met with a slightly worse contraction, and find myself being helping onto the couch by both Ubbe and Hvitserk. They try to direct attention to my husband, but my condition seems to be getting worse. Of course, i repeatedly tell them I’m fine, and to worry about Ivar, not me.

Finally, the men move towards Ivar and take to bandaging some of his larger wounds, and cleaning the smaller ones. They’ve gone through almost all the towels in the home, and the whole room wreaks of the alcohol being used to clean Ivar’s wounds. They work all night, and in the morning we are all asleep on the couch when the kids come downstairs. Adelaide wakes me and Bjorn, shaking his arm.

“Mama! Uncle Bjorn! Papa! He’s... he’s hurt!” She yells, tears streaming down her face. I kiss her cheeks and try to not cry.

“Baby... some bad men hurt papa last night. Your uncles brought him here and they’re trying to make him better. Don’t be too loud, you’ll wake him, and he needs to r-rest to get better.” Another contraction, shit. I stand slowly and walk to Ivar, feeling his forehead. He’s burning. I grab a wet cloth and put it on his forehead, calling Bjorn over. “He’s so hot... we- oh fuck- we need to do- something!” I whimper and squeak in pain, and Bjorn knows what’s happening.

“I love you as my sister in law but this is the worst possible timing. Just shove that kiddo back up in there and grab some shit to help with.” Bjorn barks, and Ubbe stands, walking over to the two of us.

“Listen Bjorn you can be stressed but don’t take it out on her. Don’t you think she’s worried that the father of her children might not live to see her youngest children? And if she’s really that close we need to do this. We can pop em right out, yeah?” He asks, helping me sit down once again. I nod, holding Ivar’s hand, and resting my head on his arm gently. After a little while, the pains worsen to the point where I can’t even stand or think straight.

Ubbe carries me to our bedroom and strips the mattress, laying me near the open window for a breeze. He brings the remaining towels and small blankets.

Guilt overtakes me, and I let out quiet cries “Ubbe... I’m sorry... Ivar is- he’s hurt and I’m making this all about me. I’m sorry. I’m trying to not give in to the pain but it feels so much worse than the other pregnancies.” I whimper and Ubbe strokes my cheeks, removing my loose hair from my sweaty forehead.

“Hey... hey, don’t say that. You don’t have a choice. This is your body working, and the babies probably feel the stress of their father being hurt and want to come out early. Ivar is fine, and you’re fine. I’m going to check and see if a Head is starting to come out, okay?“ Ubbe cringes and he looks under my nightgown, prodding at me. I watch his face closely and notice his eyes widening noticeably. “ I see the entire fucking head just about. You gotta start pushing, okay? Just little ones right now. Don’t exhaust yourself. You’re not even half done.” He says, trying to comfort me, squeezing my hand reassuringly as I push.

In the other room Bjorn continues tending to Ivar’s wounds, and as he sews shut a particularly large wound on his shoulder, Ivar wakes and groans. “Where am I? Are they okay?” He asks, trying to sit up, but finding the pain unbearable.

Bjorn finishes looping the needle and thread through his brother’s flesh, and pours the clear liquid on his limb, causing Ivar to hiss in pain.

“Your wife was freaking out, baby is coming. Adelaide is pretty worried too. Rest of the kids don’t know yet. You’re pretty bad off but you’ll live.” Bjorn explains and Ivar doesn’t hear shut after his brother mentions the baby.

“Take me to my wife.” Ivar demands, voice strong despite his present physical condition. His brothers look to one another, skeptical, but help their younegar brother to stumble into the bedroom. When my eyes drift to him, I feel as if a weight has been lifted off my chest. He’s alive. Ivar’s alive. He sits next to me on the bed , holding my knee as I shoot him a pained smile.

“I’m sorry Ivar... bad timing. Just like their big brother.” I say before another pain rips through my core and I feel the urge to push. Ivar sits in shock as he watches my features contort with pain.

“Ivar- Ivar! Make it stop!” I whimper, cries muffled into his shoulder. He kisses my forehead and cheeks as I push once again, this time finally making some progress. Ubbe announces that the shoulders are out, so I give a few gentle pushes, and I feel Ubbe grab the child and wrap it in a towel.

“A boy.” He hands the bundle to Ivar and I watch as my husband holds the baby so tenderly against his chest, still comforting me. He looks at the child with such wonder, only looking away when my screams pull him back to reality.

“I can’t do it! I can’t do it!” I sob, hysterically. Bjorn groans from the other side of the room.

“Shut up and push the kid out. It’s not that hard.” He states, eating a book flying over at him, barely missing his head. I do follow what he had suggested though, and push repeatedly, to no avail.

Nearly six hours pass before the next child is born, and after, I can’t even keep my eyes open long enough to ask the sex of the child. When I wake, I find myself laying in the guest bed, and I see Ivar sitting on the chair across from me, holding his two youngest children. I slowly sit up, propping myself up against the headboard.

“Good morning husband. How are the babies?” I ask. And he looks up, eyes bright as he grins over at me.

“Well, thanks to you and my brother, they are as healthy as I could have hoped. They’re sleeping downstairs in case one of us gets sick. I’m truly thankful for them. We wouldn’t have been able to make it had my brothers not been there.” I hum in response and look at my children, little pink faces snuggled into Ivar’s bandaged chest.

“Is it a boy? Or a girl? The second baby.” I inquire, curiously looking at the two babies balanaced in his arms.

“It’s a girl. We have a big brother and a little sister. The kids already came in and saw them. Do you want to hold them? I’m due for a smoke anyway.” He walks over slowly, careful of each step, before handing me the two bundles and walking out the large door. I hold the sleeping children and watch as their tiny chests rise and fall with each breath.

Our family may not be perfect, but it’s damn close.

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