How Blue Are My Eyes?

Anonymous said:

Hi ! So I rewatched Vikings season 5a and if you're still taking requests, can I please have a imagine of Ivar being full of rage / losing is temper because his love interest x reader has been a bit injured during the first battle against Lagertha and Ivar's brothers ? I hope it's make sense, sorry for my bad English...

Hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you for the request, anon :)

Word count: 648

Warnings: violence (I mean it is Vikings)

She was fearless. He watched her swing her sword effortlessly, piercing into the skins of their enemies.

He wondered how she still managed to look elegant even covered in the blood of his brother’s warriors.

His gaze never left her for too long, making sure she was safe, while he charged around in his chariot, racking up his own share of kills.

His eyes couldn’t be everywhere though... and at some point, he lost sight of her.

His head darted across the battlefield, desperately trying to find her. His heart thumping faster and faster in his chest as fear overcame him.

He hadn’t felt fear this whole day; he was Ivar the boneless. Not afraid of war nor dying. Yet, when his princess, his (Y/N), was in danger, he was the most fearful man alive.

His blue eyes turned a dark shade of black. The expression of a crazy man etched onto his face. Overcome with rage he went on a rampage. Cutting through the battlefield, slaughtering anyone and everyone in his way, determined to find her.

Before he knew it the battle was over. Lagertha and her army’s had retreated, leaving only the bodies of the dead and wounded sprawled across the field.

“FIND HER” He roared at the top off his lungs. “FIND (Y/N)”.

Ivars men didn’t dare hesitate and instantly started searching the ground.

Ivar waited impatiently before hearing the words “found her” in the distance. It filled him with dread. All he could think is 'what if she’s dead'

He raced over there faster than Thor’s lightning splits through the air in a storm.

“Is she alright?” he rushed out his words, panic evident in his tone as he climbed from his chariot.

“She is unconscious.. but alive.” The man replied.

Ivar let out a shaky breath of relief, thanking the gods.

“Get her back to camp,” Ivar demanded. “She needs help.” His voice cracked despite his efforts to mask it.

The man quickly hauled her over his shoulder and motioned towards the cart carrying the wounded.

“Be careful with her!” Ivar hissed at the mans roughness.

“Get them all out. I want it empty” Ivar demanded when the cart arrived. The cart driver turned around and flashed a disagreeing look at Ivar.

Ivar cut him off before he could speak up. He didn’t care at this point, the other bodies in the cart would slow it down. All that mattered to Ivar right now is that (Y/N) got there safely and quickly.

The men didn’t question Ivar and did as he requested.

Shortly after they were off, galloping hurriedly through fields and forests, Ivar following closely behind, his eyes never leaving his love.

As soon as she was patched up, Ivar rushed into the tent to see her. His heart dropped at the sight.

Dark bruises and cuts decorated her once perfect skin. A deep purple shade surrounded her puffy eyes. She was barely conscious.

He caressed the skin on her face, causing her to wince and wake up.

He flinched his hand back, not wanting to hurt her when she looked up. “I-Ivar?” She spoke with a small smile carved on her lips.

“Yes, my love. It’s Ivar. It’s me.” He struggled out, trying his best not to crumble.

“A stab wound-“ The medic interrupted, “in her torso.”

Ivar snapped his head around and then back to (Y/N), now looking at her torso. His pain quickly turned to anger again as he lashed out, pushing whatever was nearest to him.

How dare they? How dare they harm his love.

He was pacing around angrily now. How could he have allowed this to happen? He started to blame himself.

“Ivar-“ (Y/N) spoke up, attempting to calm him down.

“I’ll show them, my love-“ he cut her off, “that nobody is allowed to touch what is mine.” He growled.

His eyes darkened again: “I’ll make them pay.”

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Tagging: @meeeeeeeeeps

Hi anon! I hope this is okay ❤️

Word count: 543

warnings: slight angst?

Tonight a feast was to be held in the great hall, hosted by the king and queen; Ivar and you. You could tell something has been off with your husband all day, so you stopped helping the thralls prepare the food for a moment to speak with him.

“Ivar?” You knocked the door to your shared room before opening it as he hummed for you to come in. You noticed him getting ready for tonight. “Need any help?” You smiled sweetly at him causing him to do the same. “I am ok” he replied, trying to shove his boots on. You could see him struggling with this so you walked over to him and sat down in front of him. You reached your arm out before he grabbed your wrist gently, looking into your eyes “I said I’m ok”. “Okay” you answered. You found this slightly strange as you’d always help him with this, but you brushed it off as nothing.

You sat together at the long table filled with endless plates of food, surrounded by hundreds of celebrating people. Ivar couldn’t help but feel all eyes burning into you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, ensuring everyone knew you were his.

People would come up and speak to you both, and Ivar would shoot daring looks at anyone who kept your company a second too long, reminding them of their place. Most would end the conversation and hurry along as soon as he threatened them, but one man in particular was persistent. He found that out when he caught you in conversation with him after the feast had ended.

Ivar watched from afar as you giggled and spoke happily with the man. He couldn’t help but feel his heart clench. He didn’t know what made him this way. What makes him question and re-think himself. Every atom of his being knew you were faithful. Loyal to him and only him - that is why he married you. Yet even as your husband, he can’t help but fear losing you.

“Ivar, what the hell!?” You exclaimed as he pulled you away from the slaves you were helping, into your room, and held you against the door. “Why were you talking with that man earlier?” He demanded. You looked at him in disbelief. “Ivar, I am Queen now. People are going to talk to me.” You explained. He paused for a moment before quietly speaking up: “That is not the only reason they talk to you.” Your face softened as you noticed the insecurity in his voice. He felt like he had something to prove, as if he wasn’t good enough. You knew that. You’ve always known that. He tries to hide it but you figured it out even when you were children.

“Ivar..” you made him look at you. “Your fears are irrational, I am not going anywhere. You know that.” You spoke. He smiled softly and cupped your face. “I know..” he admitted, “forgive me” he searched your eyes. You nodded gently and leaned into him. He pulled you against his chest in a tight embrace, both feeling safe in each others arms. He may have a tough exterior, but you loved this side of Ivar, the side reserved only for you.

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This was requested by @shit-i-say-shit-i-think

Summary: The Ragnarssons react to a Jormungandr tattoo down your leg.

Word count: 426

You had finally decided to do it. The idea had been playing on your mind for a while now and what better time than after your first successful raid to celebrate.. with a massive tattoo.

“Follow me” you whispered with a playful tone into Ivars ear before darting out of the dining hall and waiting for him to get up and join you.

The brothers stopped eating and looked between each other, then to Ivar, before shrugging it off as your usual shenanigans and going back to their food.

You waited impatiently as Ivar made his way over before dragging him outside.

“What is wrong with you? You’re practically bouncing!” Ivar exclaimed. You couldn’t contain your excitement. “Guess what?” You shot back. Ivar rolled his eyes. “Go on..” he played, expecting something stupid. “I’m getting Jormungandr tattooed on my leg!” You let out with a grin.

Ivars face lit up at the idea. You knew how much he loved tattoos. “You’re coming with me” You stated. “Of course I am” he teased. Of course you were going to bring your best friend.

You winced when the needle first pierced into your delicate skin, but quickly became accustomed to the burning pain that danced across your thigh. Ivar bit his lip as he watched each drop of ink permanently cement itself into the art on your leg.

Several hours later it was done, and you were extremely pleased with the results. “Wow” Ivar spoke up as you looked at him expectantly. “It suits you so well (Y/N)” He said, eyes lingering in awe of the design. You smiled wide, wiping the blood from your leg.

You burst into the great hall with a huge grin on your face, Ivar trailing behind you with a smirk on his. Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigard all looked up at the same time. “What?” Asked Sigard. You lifted your skirt up in reply, revealing the huge tattoo. A moment of silence fell over the room as the three of them looked shocked. You watched as their eyes traced the looping tail up your leg to where it finally met the jaws of Jormungandr at the top of your thigh.

“It’s beautiful” Hvitserk spoke up, earning a nod from the others. Ubbe came closer to get a better look. He traced part of the design on your leg. “The detail is incredible.” he looked at you. You hummed in agreement. “Next time please tell us insted of Ivar before making a stupid decision so we can talk you out of it.” Sigard joked earning a laugh from all of you.

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Anonymous said: 

can you write an imagine where the reader is failing math and jughead wants to get closer to the reader and offers to help even though he’s actually bad at math, so when he tries to help her study, they both get frustrated and they end up kissing/confessing their feelings

I changed it up slightly but hope you’re okay with it!

Word count: 1,008

warnings: none, just fluff :)

It was coming to the end of last period and your favourite subject of all time - math! You sat at your desk with your face lazily rested in your hand as you glanced up at the clock waiting for this nightmare to end. The whole lesson has been a battle to understand even half of what the teacher was saying and it’s stressing you out. 

“Remember, class, we have a test next lesson so make sure you study for it.” Your head jolted up at the realisation. oh crap. You have to do well on this test. You’re already failing math. The bell rang signalling the end of school so you quickly packed up your belongings and rushed out the door, determined to do nothing but study as soon as you got home.

You didn’t realise how nervous you were until you accidentally crashed into someone and almost fell over.  “Sorry!” you blurted out as the stranger caught you by the shoulders and steadied you. You looked up to find a tall and mysterious figure gazing down at you with a worried expression played across his features - Jughead Jones, your childhood friend and secret crush. 

“(Y/N), whoa, what’s wrong?” He asked, hands still on your shoulders. You blushed slightly at the closeness. “Nothing.. I.. Uh, I’m just stressed about failing this maths test.” You flustered. “Really, you?” He teased “I thought you were the class smart-ass.” He played. “I am, Jones. Just not as smart-assy as you.” You sassed back. He chuckled.

You missed this. For some reason you and Jughead didn’t talk that often anymore, even though you were best friends when you were younger. Jughead missed it too, he’d always liked you - though he’d never told you, maybe that’s why he distanced himself. He could still be caught admiring you from afar though. And any time the two of you were together, he’d cherish. Which is what lead him to a thought..

“I could help you study for the test, if you want?” He asked, hope evident in his tone. You looked up at him in surprise, “You’d do that? Thank you Juggie!” You exclaimed. “Sure” He smiled at you, “I’m free anytime, so let me know whenever you need me.” he said. “We could go over to my place and start now?” You suggested. The corner of his mouth curved up, “Why not?” He replied, so the two of you headed over to your place.

You guys talked a lot along the way, mostly about childhood memories. It felt almost as if nothing had changed and you were still best friends. When you arrived at home your parents greeted you and Jughead and you explained that you were going to your room to study together. Your parents exchanged a look but you grabbed Jughead and jogged upstairs to your bedroom before they could embarrass you. 

You waltzed into your room, Jughead following behind you, and turned to face him. He was standing awkwardly by the door. “Make yourself at home!” you reassured him “You can sit on the bed or wherever.” He loosened up at your words and made his way over to sit beside you on the bed, pulling out the notes and revision sheets from his bag.

“Okay..” You sighed and looked at the first question. “Write 4*10-2 as a decimal.” You looked up at Jughead, a puzzled expression on your face. “I don’t have the slightest clue... Can you explain it?” You asked. “Uhh..” He started, and then begun spurring out different methods to solve the equation - to no avail. He was stuck. Jugheads face slowly turned a shade of light red at the slight embarrassment. 

“I don’t understand it very well either.” He admitted. “Okay, we’ll come back to that one.” You said and pointed to the next question - which looked just as daunting. “What about this one?” You asked, frustrated with yourself for not knowing. “Actually...” Jughead started, looking extremely embarrassed as he considered his next sentence, “I’m not really good at any of this stuff, I kinda suck at math. I just..” He paused and debated with himself for a moment. “I just wanted to get closer to you. I know it’s stupid but I really like you, (Y/N).”

You looked at your friend in shock, trying to think of the words you wanted to say. Jugheads face heated up at the silence, and he quickly spoke up, “You don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry I made this awk-” You cut him off, “No no, I really like you too Jug! ever since we were in 6th grade actually. I had no idea you felt that way.”

Jughead just stared at you in surprise as the words sank in. “Really?” was all he managed to say. You chuckled and took his hands in yours, “Yes, really, Jug.” His face lit up with joy and you smiled back up at him. He gazed across your features, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips. He slowly leaned closer to your face. You were so close it set off a fire inside you, you could feel your cheeks flushing and your stomach drop. “Is this ok?” He whispered as his lips brushed against yours.

You replied by crashing your lips into his, and he slowly and passionately deepened the kiss, savouring every moment of it. Jughead brought his hands up to cup your face. Your lips synced together perfectly and you got lost in the moment. You both pulled back for air and looked at one another lovingly. Jugheads hand still caressed your cheek as he spoke up, “Well this turned out better than I expected.” You giggled and agreed.