Of yore, our firey fathers sped upon the Viking Path; Of yore, their dreaded dragons braved the ocean in its wrath; And we, their sons, are reaping now their glory’s aftermath; The waves are rolling on.

seen from United States

seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from China

seen from Maldives

seen from Canada

seen from Canada
seen from Canada

seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Australia

seen from Maldives
seen from China
Of yore, our firey fathers sped upon the Viking Path; Of yore, their dreaded dragons braved the ocean in its wrath; And we, their sons, are reaping now their glory’s aftermath; The waves are rolling on.
Could you do one where the reader is Lagertha younger sister and in a relationship with ivar the boneless
Screw Them
Ivar the Boneless x female!reader Request
Word count:0.9k
Warnings:basically nothing, all empty here
Summary: You want to meet up with Ivar , but accidentally run into your sister. Will you be able to make it to Ivar in Time?
Masterlist
It was a busy day in Kattegat. Well, nowdays everyday in Kattegat was busy. I smiled, as I made my way through the crowded streets. People were talking, laughing, trading, gambling and so much more. But the people were happy and that's what counted the most.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?"
Björn Ironside - Vikings
Just a little Moodboard of Bjorn and Lagertha, if it were Targaryen style.
Young Björn x Reader
A small little story about child Björn and child Y/n purely platonic.
This is my first time writing for vikings, I know it’s not much but I think it’s short but sweet. I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!♥️
———————————————————
“Björn! BJÖRN!” I shouted while running over the hill towards him and where Lagertha lead us (unknowingly of course). As I reached the peak I saw him already talking to his mother, who had stopped the cart she was riding on. I let out a deep sigh, knowing I’ll finally be able to catch up to him. “Björn! Miss Lagertha! Wait” I told them, making them both realise I was there. “Y/n?” Björn said questioning my presence. I ran up to them, resting my hands on my knees as I bent over.
“What are you doing here? How long have you been following me?” Björn questioned. “I’ve followed all the way. Mama said I could come with you, if Miss Lagertha allows it. She says that she has enough kids at home and that going from 4 people to 2 in a family will be tough on Miss Lagertha, so I can join you!” I told him happily, making him smile and hug me. “Can she mama? Can she please?” Björn begged. Lagertha playfully hummed in thought. She loved you, so knew that she’d let you come anyway. But the moment she saw the love her son held for you deep in his eyes, she knew she could never say no. Love at such a young age is not to be ignored, she knew in her heart that the gods had destined you two to be together. “Of course, my lovelies” she told you both, making you both grin at each other.
And of course she was right, for 5 years later, just before Björn’s first raid, you got married, and were expecting your first son. And who knows, if she were not to accept your joining on her journey, you may not have been married at all.
——————————————————————————
I know this probably won’t do well but oh well, maybe one person will read it?
VIKINGS M A S T E R L I S T
BACK TO MAIN M A S T E R L I S T!
KEYS;
A = angst // F = fluff // S = smut // P = platonic
Heathens Pt2 (Ivar X Warrior Reader)
The ship journey had lasted over three days. The afternoon sun burned your skin as it beat down upon the sea, causing the water to glimmer like a million little mirrors catching the sunlight. But you did not notice the scenery, you were determined not to give into hopelessness. Nor did your brother.
“Lord, unto thee do I lift up my soul. Let me not be ashamed, let not mine enemies triumph over me.” You prayed aloud, staring down at the shackles that bound your bloodied wrists.
“So, is this an interruption of your life’s journey...Or is it a part of it?” You looked up at Ivar. He was leaning against a thick rope, his eyes preying on you like a hawk. You stayed silent. You would not entertain these devils with argument. To your dismay, Ivar simply smirked, before looking off into the distance. Over the course of the journey, many viking men taunted you about your God, the true God, but it did not sway you. In fact it made you angry, and when you got angry, you would become even more determined not to give into hopelessness.
“Heahmund, are you alright?” You asked, noticing the state of your brother. He dark hair was matted, and dried blood covered his usually pale face.
“I do not think either one of us are alright, my dear sister.” Heahmund said, coughing up drops of blood.
“We are here!” You looked up to see a heathen pointing toward a mass of land only a few miles away.
Two men gripped your shoulders, digging their fingers harshly into your flesh as they dragged you and your brother through a set of iron doors. You were dragged into a great wooden hall. The hall was large, lit only by a two windows that ran across the top of the walls, and hanging in the centre of the ceiling was a humongous whale skeleton.
“On their knees.” You heard Ivar command to his men. You were thrown to the ground as the air got knocked out of your already battered lungs. You groaned as you pulled yourself up into a kneeling position. Above you, a Norseman sat upon a throne. On his braided hair sat a crown that sent shadows over his heavily tattooed face. By his side sat a beautiful woman wearing a crimson dress.
“What is the point of them?” The man on the throne leaned forward, inspecting you and your brother. You growled and spat in his face, making him recoil and wipe his cheek. “Why did you not just kill them?” The man said, glaring at you.
“Because they are both great warriors, Harald.” Ivar said, gesturing to you and your brother. “I have seen how they with my own eyes. I admire great warriors.” Ivar continued, limping around the side of Heahmund, before stopping behind you, but your gaze was still fixed on the man before you, the man that was now named Harald. You listened closely to their conversation, trying to gain information, afterall, they did not expect you to be able to speak or understand Norse.
“Even the girl? I did not know Christian women fought in battles.” Harald said with a frown. You could hear Ivar chuckle behind you.
“Nor me Harald, nor me. But I hope that they will both fight for us.” Ivar said, patting you on the shoulder. You lurched forward to get away from his touch.
“The women do not fight. I am the exception.” You said at last, surprising them with your Norse language.
“She speaks our language. Did you know this Ivar?” Harald asked, and for the first time, your eyes left his face, and flicked to Ivar.
“No, I did not.” Ivar said, raising his eyebrows.
“How did you come by learning our language, Y/N? Does Heahmund speak it as well?” Ivar asked, shoving you with his crutch. You shot a glare at him before looking to your brother. Heahmund was staring at Ivar, after hearing his name mentioned.
“King Ecbert taught me, before you Heathens slaughtered him like a beast. And No, my brother does not know your language.” You said, venom dripping from every word.
“The lord rules me. I shall want nothing.” You turned to look at Heahmund. He had begun to pray, glaring Harald in the eyes. You hissed as Ivar yanked your brothers hair sharply.
“No, no, no. Let him speak.” Harald asked, waving at Ivar to stop pulling Heahmunds hair. A smirk begun to form on your lips as a look of dismay flashed across Ivars face.
“I fear no evil, for you are with me Lord, your rod and your staff have comforted me.” You joined in on the prayer with your brother, looking directly into the eyes of Harald.
“What are they saying?” He asked looking to Ivar.
“They are praying to their God.” Ivar said. A flash of anger flickered across Haralds face as he stood up.
“A fat load of good that will do them!” Harald chuckled, regaining himself as Ivar simply smirked, hitting Heahmund across the head. You glanced at your brother, a small smile dancing on your lips. These Heathens were very easily to aggravate. That would come in handy.
“You prepare a table before me, in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” You say over and over, as the two men that brought you in, dragged you by your arms toward the door.
In the distance the faint sound of water dripping from an old dingy drain pipe splashed into a puddle on the floor. In the gloom all you could make out was the four stone walls that locked you in. In the water dripping silence you sat, back against the cold stone walls. You and Heahmund at been separated, thrown into separate rooms a few hours ago. You rubbed your painful wrists with your now freed hands, before turning to face Ivar, who was sat on a stool opposite you.
“There is going to be a war. A war that will make me king of Kattegat, my father’s kingdom. A war against the usurper, Lagertha, who killed my mother in order to be queen. And of course, a war between brother.” You listened to Ivar, peering at him in the darkness. You rolled your eyes. What did you care of his wars and family troubles?
“What of it?” You said, flicking some dirt off your trouser leg. You watched him carefully as he leaned forward, clasping his hands together.
“Y/n, you have a choice. Fight alongside me, or I kill you.” He said. You snorted, sitting upright. Though you pretended to be disgusted, your curiosity was peaked by his offer.
“What are your wars to me?” You asked, looking him in the eye.
“Your way of staying alive.” Ivar quipped, leaning back in his seat with a smirk on his face.
“I am not afraid to die for my faith.” You pulled yourself off the muddy ground and stood by the small window, peeking through the bars that secured it.
“I am not asking you to do that. I am not asking you to renounce your faith, or to fight against Christians.” You turned away from the window, fully facing him now. “All I am asking is for you to kill more of those who you call ‘Heathens’.” Ivar said, watching you as you took a few steps toward him. You crouched down on the ground below his stool with a raised eyebrow.
“Why do you offer me this choice?” You asked, slightly softer. You had begun to realize that Ivar could have killed you at any point, but he did not. He obviously needed you for something. You had thought God must have planned for this to happen.
“Because I am jealous of you.” He said at last. You frowned, turning your head to the side and beckoned for him to continue. “I would like to be like you, strong, whole...” Ivar began to trail off, looking at his lap. You felt a small pang of sympathy in your heart when his voice broke at the end. If you were entirely honest, you had forgotten that his legs did not work. You were going to say something, when he continued to speak.
“To be a great warrior like you. That is why I saved you, brought you with me. That is why I want you to fight alongside me.”
Your feet stumbled as your were dragged forward with a chain around your neck. The iron rubbed your throat, causing the skin to tear and bleed. A crowd of mucky Pagans crowded you, following your every step as Hvitserk clutched your now re-chained arms as rain pelted you, turning the ground into sludgy mud.
“Kill her!” The crowd roared as you were thrown to the ground. You groaned in pain, feeling a trickle of blood drip down your cheek.
“I told you to take her her to me, not batter her.” You looked up to see Ivar standing up, out of his chair, glaring at Hvitserk.
“Kill her!” The crowd cheered again as Hvitserk bent down, unlocking the chains from your wrists and neck. Ivar raised a hand, shushing the crowd instantly. You staggered up, spitting a mouthful of blood at the crowd, causing a small smirk to flitter across Ivars face.
“Possibly. We may kill her, if she does not agree, I will kill her.” Ivar said, as the crowd went mad again. You clenched your jaw, watching as Ivar stepped towards you. You hissed in pain as he ran his thumb across you cut cheek, wiping the blood away before continuing his speech.
“She will live if she and her brother both agree to fight alongside me. Which I hope she will do.” Ivar said the last part in a lower voice, making eye contact with you.
“Well, will she?” A man in the crowd yelled, causing you turn around and glare at him. You turned back to Ivar, who was staring at you intensely.
“Well Y/N? Will you fight with me?”
--
Thanks for reading! Part 3 coming soon!
REQUESTS OPEN!
@youbloodymadgenius
@angelofthorr
@pieces-by-me
@krissyclayton
@xceafh
@1950schick
Ragnar Lothbrok Icons ♥
Please, if you save it or use it, give like o share it