#Thorsten

[numbuh]

[opelman]

Spa Summer Classic 2024 by Ste Tit

[absyntheartref]

Ty always for the tag @layalu :] for THIS picrew

I may have also went a bit overboard... Started with DA OCs then added other OCs

I don't have people to tag but @melisusthewee: you've been looking for a dragon age group so you are welcome to add to this tag! We tag each other to make our Dragon Age characters in picrews a lot. (We meaning me, layalu, creativegoblin, quakingbirch & crew. Sorry if this @ is annoying btw I know we've never interacted but I wanted to include you in our group.)

Under the cut we have: Luciano Smith, Modern AU Berwick if he were super into 70s fashion, Gavin Sharpe, Thorsten but as your odd scottish neighbor & Isaac Leighton

I made Adrian but forgot to save him so he's uhhhh lost oops, oh and I had made myself a bit ago before I got tagged, heres that:

[inselrubber-toffy]

#🏳️‍🌈 #lgbt @aida_cruises #Thorsten #diver #gayfriendly #rubberfashion #gay #hiddenseeikone #Germany #rubberfetish #leatherjacket #inpublic #rubberboy #latexgay #gear365 #gaymen #aidaikone #heavyrubberlover #leathercop #hiddensee Latexfetishmodeling #latexmodel #latexman #fotograf #Ikone #rubberlover #rubberfashion #rubberoutfit #uniform #ott #rubberoutdoor #AIDACRUISES. (hier: Hamburg Airport) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoVwHz1tVFu/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[freydis-freydat]

Freydis found that her faith in the witcher’s intervention was rewarded handsomely. The context and conditions of his duty hadn’t crossed her mind–the fear of guaranteed punishment for returning without the jarl in his custody wasn’t a decision-making factor. Freydis would have to regard herself as far more important than she did for the thought to cross her mind. Instead, her belief that he would intercede was built on the thin foundation of trust they had built in the mere miles it took for them to arrive at the mouth of that very same cave and the naive, blind faith she applied to most everyone she encountered until they gave her a reason for doubt. 

The cracking sound of breaking canines was a brutalizing one, but she welcomed it all the same. Nimble and dedicated to having Torsten’s back in the same way he had just demonstrated he had hers. Unfortunately for the shieldmaiden, she did not roll away from the place where she had been pinned down by the bereskarn quite fast enough to avoid the syrupy, tar-like blood from the wound it sustained from dripping onto her in a thick curtain. The repellent ichor led Freydis to abandon that area quickly to avoid further attack and mess.

The attention of the great beast was redirected onto the witcher, affording Freydis the time to return to her feet and observe him as he illuminated his blade with the impressive blaze. It was so different than the commonplace fire that warmed refugees, those yellow-orange flames stoked in the hearth of her childhood home that kept the place smelling perpetually of freshly baked bread. It was strange to be reminded of the comforts of home in such an environment, but his words regarding strategy for finishing off the blighted beast led her back to the present matter. 

Freydis gaze shifted between tracking the movement of the bear and watching Thorsten. She listened carefully, knowing both their lives hung in the balance, but that his balanced more precariously on the razor edge of the battle. He had come back for her–she would force herself to make sure it wasn’t in vain. 

The bereskarn launched its offensive and the attack unfolded just as Thorsten said it would. Despite the knowledge of the plan, Freydis’ could feel her heart rate pick up and could feel its overactive beating in the hollow of her threat. Her blood pressure rose and thrummed at her temples and her mouth went dry. She would credit only her experience in combat for the fact that her hands did not shake and drop her weapon. What would the Iskarans say if they could see beyond the facade? If they knew this anxiety and panic colored her every holmgang, even the first few years of her service as jarl when there was a challenger more days than there wasn’t, how would they see her? If they knew every time she picked up a sword or entered the room of her male contemporaries she felt like a small child with a too-quick pulse, would they still respect her?

But plaguing and chronic as her nervousness was, Freydis was reliable. She performed. Freydis watched on waiting for the right moment, dread filling every cell of her body as the monstrous once-bear clawed and swiped at Torsten. He held the bear’s full attention, and she knew it was part of the plan, but it put him in such a dangerous position. With each passing fraction of a second, she agonized over whether she had waited too long, that the chance for victory had passed, but her body didn’t move. Then, mercifully, she watched as the witcher skewered the bear mid-attack and her body knew the time was right and acted. 

She shifted her sword to point directly toward where the bear’s heart would be. Freydis pushed off of her back foot summoning as much of her strength as she could muster as she ran at the beast full-force. Every once of her body weight was wielded behind the blade, but even still she lunged into the side of the beast to drive the blade in deeper. The bereskarn released a deafening roar, angry as it was piercing. For a moment, Freydis feared she had missed its heart, but a moment later it began to chuff and pant, and slowly slump to the side, threatening to to collapse on top of the woman. She sidestepped quickly, her back pressed against the cave wall beside Thorsten. 

Freydis panted for a moment, trying to settle down after the thrall of the battle before she turned her head to look at her battlemate. Retrieving her sword would be misery, but that could be worried about later. “Are you alright?” she breathed, genuinely hoping he was unharmed. After a moment, her neck craned to look toward the mouth of the cave. “The children?” From her cursory glance at them, they appeared to be unharmed, but Thorsten had spent an additional moment or two with them. The calm she was expecting to be restored wasn't coming.

The dark earth of the ground underfoot crunched beneath the witcher's feet as his eyes penetrated the darkness, he carried himself quickly to set himself between the cage and the shadows as Freydis worked over the mechanism. Torsten could not set aside the stench of this cavern, it held the indicative notes of blight that he'd unfortunately become far too acquainted with at Nornwatch Keep, but there was something else as well. Torsten picked up on the telltale stench of dank fur and wet animal muddled with the rot of darkspawn. He knew that they were not alone in this cave still, his back to the cage while Freydis worked to free the children, Torsten kept his attention fixed on the dark. From within came a growl that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end - perhaps they'd inadvertently conjured the creature he'd feared previously.

Jarl Icefang's voice cut the dark after the cage door groaned and protested, it swung wide and Freydis's direction was clear. The children were the priority in this, but above his own life as Kingsguard he'd always place a citizen of Iskaldrik. The Jarl most of all - should Torsten return without the shieldmaiden then in death his soul would surely be sent to wander the shore of corpses. Dishonor and broken oaths, the thought turned his stomach even as the children rushed to his side and he ushered them safely to the mouth of the cavern.

Torsten could hear the clash behind him, the roar of the bereskarn, and the heat of the effort that Freydis put out. The witcher and the jarl had not come all this way to lose anyone, not the children, and not the jarl. These few were just kids, but they were older than Torsten had been when Gunnhild began his training.

"Listen to me, little drengrs: in life, it is impossible always to be fully prepared for battle." Torsten unsheathed a sword and offered it to the boy with the strongest arms, he shook even as his smaller hands wrapped around the grip. The witcher slipped the straps from the back of his shield off his arm and gave it to one of the young girls. A dagger was pulled from his belt and pressed into the hands of another. "Keep your swords close, when Iskarans stand together we form a shield."

A roar shook the mouth of the cavern as putrid air brushed past them. Torsten's gaze was hard as he stared the small, quivering group down. "Your jarl will see you from this safely." From across his back, Torsten withdrew the claymore of the same mithril-make that the witchers were known for. The sword required two hands and without missing a beat, he turned it towards the sky and submerged himself back into the darkness of the cave where the outline of the bereskarn was all he could make out before approaching closer.

Silverlight cut through the dark as the edge of the heavy blade struck at the top row of the creature's teeth. A line of the bereskarn's wretched teeth broke as the sword's tip cut into the soft flesh that lined the edges of its mouth. With a great roar, it reared back as shards from a few broken teeth fell across the cave, blood dripped from its maw and Torsten braced himself as he took a stance. Mithril was one of the strongest known metals, exclusive to the witchers, lightweight and durable. It was unmistakable from any other, all but glowing as if it contained the light of the stars. It set them apart from common Iskarans, but it made it easy for the witchers to catch the attention of beasts. Outfitted to draw fire, designed to be targeted by creatures just like this one.

"The Dark One has given us no choice," Torsten remarked candidly, "it will be us, or this beast." Fear is the mind-killer. From his pocket, he doused the length of his sword in oil that the witcher had specially concocted. With a spark, the mithril sword was encased in a smokeless, white flame. Torsten set a few places from Freydis as he let the slip of the shadows fall over the jarl. "it's weakest at its face and at the top of its chest. I'll draw its attention. When it lowers its head to attack, that's when you can strike at its heart." Without another moment for pause, the bereskarn lunged with a mighty roar, its steps shook the cavern as it bounded in; the flame cast light upon its grotesque features, areas where the blight was strongest were illuminated now as it writhed about below the bereskarn's hide unseen.

The heft of the bereskarn's paw crashed toward him, Torsten moved under it as his sword sliced against the leathery pad, burning and slicing into the monster's flesh. Burnt skin and fur permeated the air but it was no less vile than what persisted about them already. Another roar before the bereskarn swiped at him again before Torsten had fully righted himself. Pushed against the cavern wall the force shook the air from his lungs before the witcher pushed his grip back against the darkspawn. Grunting from the effort, his blazing sword broke through the pad of the bereskarn's paw and burned its way out through the other side.

Torsten turned his sword as he angled to force a release, without momentum it was agony to try and force the blade through the bereskarn's tendons and musculature. His arms quaked as the darkspawn moved in to snatch his exposed head from his armored shoulders. Torsten wrenched the sword up, angling it enough so the handle ran the length of his head as the blade cut down into the creature, its fur smoldering as the top of his muzzle was caught on his sword. He could feel the head from his own blade, white flames licked at both the bear and the armor as he stared hatefully into the eyes of the blighted monster.

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Brazier of Dancing Flame by Thorsten Erdt

[keo6323]

Sie üben schon mal für die Alters-WG😌😌😌

[annahamiltonsstuff]

My fav part in german crime shows is when one cop drives the other home. I don't know there is something intimate about it, like "I'll bring you home" or "Please drive me home" and than when they get out of the car one of them says "sleep well" and then they wait till the other reached the front door.

[numbuh]

Thorsten sounds simultaneously like a ride or die bro and a total dweeb. He's ideal best friend material

HE IS IT'S SO FUNNYYYYY EVEN CREE'S LIKE "you have friends?? we've only seen you with thorsten. are you kidding" but in thorsten's defense benny is also a total dweeb (<3)

thorsten's life is so like. painfully average that he welcomes Whatever The Hell is Going On with benny's. benny and the knd stuff is so interesting to him. even if things go wrong it gives him something to do. when they first meet he's literally like "sure you can come to my house. tell me you're not running from the cops though. my parents would kill me" and it's only because benny looks exhausted and miserable. so he's like ok let's see where this goes i'm curious (bored all the time) and we can play video games or something (very few friends)

[bibastibootz]

. . . weiß Sebastian eigentlich, dass Thorsten ihn so gehalten hat???!?!??! WEIß ER DAS?!??!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

[absyntheartref]

OC Bed Time Routines

Berwick; He is always on the run, very rarely sleeps in a bed or has time for a routine. When out and about, he most likely makes sure the campfire is out so nobody can find him. Maybe puts his hood up so he doesn't get pine needless or grass in his hair. If there's a tent involved, will always close it before bed.

If he finally gets a bed/roof, makes sure the doors are locked but leaves the window cracked. Mostly for his bird friend but also so he can hear the nighttime nature sounds. (He cannot fall asleep without the asmr poor thang)

Adrian (might be changing his name soon); this dude has a full on dress down routine. Probably takes a bath every night and washes his face. Makes the bed just BEFORE getting into it (defeats the whole purpose lol but i do the same irl). Has PJ sets. Makes sure all the candles are put out so the place doesn't catch on fire. I can imagine him reading for like 20 mins before sleeping.

Thorsten: puts down a bunch of furs and hay/grasses, makes it comfy. He makes sure everyone else is comfortable and in bed before he goes to bed. Though I also imagine he tends to lose a lot of sleep protecting & watching out for everyone. But other than that, his routine is "lay down, close eyes, snore."

[neptunes-blue]

Heeehyy guys 😍 still alive. Barely…. I know I’m not very active on tumblr but I am looking and lurking!! Still Das boot brain rotting so here’s more art I’ve made for it

[imperfectfragilediary]

Vogue Italia July 1997

Amber Valletta, Audrey Marnay, Benoit Taupin, Carly Hanger, Carolyn Murphy, Daniel Schmickl, Danielle Zinaich, Erin O'Connor, Georgina Grenville, Kate Moss, Kirsten Owen, Maggie Rizer, Oliver Bjerrehuus, Seijo Imazaki, Thorsten Mølsgaard Larsen & Dorota Wojcik by Steven Meisel

Styled by Joe McKenna

[fashionable-deathwish]

Lannert versucht Dienstausweis auf Augenhöhe der Anderen zu halten

[ecoustsaintmein]

Not sorry for spamming the Tatort Stuttgart tag, and maybe this has been discussed extensively by the fandom, but:

Do you think that Basti fell first, but Thorsten fell harder?

Or is it the other way around????