#Viking Destiny

[movie-titlecards]

Viking Destiny (2018)

My rating: 4/10

Incoherent mush. The hippie commune was a surprise, though.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Viking Destiny (2018)

There is so much Nordic nonsense in Viking Destiny that anything it does well must be by accident. The only times this period-piece action film manages to get a rise out of its bored audience is when it reminds you of a better movie you’d rather be watching or spits out dialogue so bad it’ll have you laughing out loud.

In the Viking kingdom of Volsung, King Asmund (Andrew Whipp) is defending his people in battle and misses the birth of his daughter. Superstition says the child is now cursed. Sensing an opportunity, Asmund’s half-brother Prince Bard (Timo Nieminen), proposes HE raise Princess Helle while his son, Soini, takes her place. Years later, Bard has King Asmund and Prince Soini murdered. Helle is framed for the crime. With no one left to oppose him, the treacherous uncle takes the throne. Now, Helle is the kingdom’s only hope.

Written, directed, and produced by David L.G. Hughes, this is the kind of passion project that plugs its fingers into its ears and yells "Not listening! lalalala!" whenever anyone attempts to criticize it. The film has some impressive-looking outdoor scenes that show off the glorious landscape of the northern country. Everything else will make you cringe. The acting is weak. You decide to give Viking Destiny a chance anyway. It looks good so maybe a dynamite story will make up for the performances. Then you notice the lackluster fight choreography. It’s another point against it, but that story… it’s coming! Until you realize you’ve been holding onto hope for nothing.

Though I have to believe it’s a coincidence, Viking Destiny is basically a dumber, gender-swapped version of The Lion King. The evil uncle who murders the rightful king and frames the real heir for the crime. The prince(ss) who goes into exile and meets a group of peaceful hippies where (s)he lives happily until dreadful news arrives: the kingdom has fallen into ruin. They can no longer run from their birthright and must return to right what's been wronged! Making lion and Disney jokes will tide you over for a while but those only go so far.

What you can look forward to are the kind of directorial choices only a 12-year-old would opt for. Prince Bard is evil. How evil? The most evil. You’d think he would raise Helle as a fail-safe to ensure he has her on his side but no. He does everything but molest her, guaranteeing she won’t bat an eye come the moment they have to fight. Does he care about the son he’s positioned to rule? Not at all. Soini is murdered with his uncle. Bard's strategy was this 21-year-long gambit that depended on… him murdering everyone else who had a shot at the title? I think there might’ve been an easier way to go about it. But then he wouldn’t get to do evil things. He’s the kind of psycho who gets the blacksmith to create a severed head flail… and then kills the blacksmith so no one else could ever make another. Huh? What? How about the scene where we see him having sex with an unnamed wench in the woods so he can slit her throat mid-coitus? At this point, his thugs have mismanaged their crops and resources so bad they’ve been reduced to cannibalism. I think he could've gotten away with murder in his bedchamber where it would've been more comfortable.

Meanwhile, Helle stumbles upon a group of flower children living in the woods without a ruler or weapons. Stunned by their gentle ways, Helle falls in love with the hunkiest one of them all. They make sweet love in a golden field bathed in sunlight - this is within minutes of them meeting and on the same day as said hunk’s wedding to another woman. Things are going relatively ok for Helle until Bard’s goons show up. You’d think the trained soldiers would make short work of the forest-dwellers but they prove themselves surprisingly effective during combat. Not because it makes sense, but because otherwise, we’d have no action climax. Cue the would-be inspirational speeches and epic battle!

There’s a lot to say about this film despite how boring it is. Throughout, Terrence Stamp appears as Odin, while Murray McArthur portrays Loki. Neither are recognizable as the Norse gods. Odin has no eyepatch, no ravens. Loki has no horns and way too much makeup. They’re basically God and the Devil whispering things to both sides and proving that Hughes knows nothing about Vikings except that they fought using melee weapons and didn’t actually have horns on their helmets.

Ranging from embarrassing to unintentionally funny, Viking Destiny is dull and unmemorable. You might remember the severed-head flail and the line about cannibalism but that’s only if your memory is exceptional. Even if the performances, the stunts and choreography, dialogue or plot were good, this would still be a cheap picture that offers nothing to those who stumble upon it. (September 11, 2020)

[kosemsultanim]

FEMALE AWESOME MEME | (3/10) Queens ~ Emma of Normandy (Vikings: Valhalla)

I arrived in this county as a 15 year old girl, who could not speak the language and was a piece of property. I am now the queen of an expanding empire, and a wealthy woman in my own right. If you think that I'm incapable of taking care of both, my husband's interest and my own, you do so at your own peril.

[kotori-mochi]

Art commission done!! Thank you

Daggron for commissioning me and for your patience. I'm so happy you like it X3

Destiny2 oc

[erraticrandomficwriter]

A random crossover edit featuring my Vikings OCs; Raevyn (I am Viking), Snow/Hoenira (Actions Speak Louder), and Ingrid (Web of Destiny)

[tyrannuspitch]

when the hero and the villain know each other better and love each other more than anyone else in the entire world . and this love is fundamentally inseparable from the fact that they ARE the hero and the villain

[moonlight-rider25]

Destiny is all

[the-light-finds-its-way]

Ya Titan was metal af while wearing lots of metal last night. It was awkward, being the only sober one at a party of 50-60 drunk people. But they had no mead, which is the only alcohol I drink. Idk how to cope with the awkwardness tbh. At least they had my favorite water ever, Liquid Death.

[knightposting]

My continued annoyance at the overall flavor of Berserker versus the fact that I DO wanna go apeshit with the claws

[chaoticpersontale]

The last kingdom

[cobragardens]

Fun fact! Birds of the British Isles are rapidly disappearing.

Populations of some species have declined more than 50% in just 5 years.

This is thought to be due to a combination of habitat loss and the 90% decrease in bug populations since 1970 due to, wait for it...pesticide use.

Actually your society is the freaks for shooting everything that moves and burning half your "nature reserves" every year so that upperclass dandies can eat leaded pheasant. North Americans are the well adjusted ones here, your country has become a desolate suburban lawn in island form

[theversevoyager]

A shadowed soul, once bound by chains of fate, Awakens in a time of yore and distant state. Within the ancient realm of Vikings bold and free, An alchemist's touch transforms her destiny. In twilight's shroud, she finds her heart unbound, As love and loyalty forge her newfound ground. The echoes of the past fade into naught, In the embrace of history, her spirit caught.

[danielleurbansblog]

Review: The Runes of Dokksdottir

Synopsis: The Dokkrsdottir is not your ordinary Norse woman of the Viking age. One of the great warriors of her time, she soon learns that the hardest battles are not always those fought with a sword and shield. Through countless trials and tests, she is led by visions and omens on numerous adventures with the help of steadfast friends and family to discover her mysterious supernatural destiny,��

[ohnoitstbskyen]

do you ship any league characters together? to you have any favourite ships/otps?

also are there any rarepairs you like or do you mostly vibe with the popular ships

I maintain that Lillia/Yone is actually kind of great, Kai'sa/Taliyah is a compelling dynamic especially for hurt/comfort vibes and healing, and... look, I just think Olaf/Soraka is a compelling dynamic if you assume Olaf has an actual personality and isn't just a "RAARR VIKING BERSERKER BLARGH" 2010s internet comedy trope.

Olaf's whole thing is he's obsessed with this very specific Destiny™ that he imagines for himself, and the world keeps dangling it just out of his reach. Odeipus-like, everything he does to reach the fate he desires pushes him further onto a path he hates and fears: survival.

And Soraka is the Star-child, seer and guide of mortal fates, the gentle hand who nudges a thread into the weave of fate when it's gone astray, or who quietly crosses it into a different weave when the fates are too cruel. Olaf badly needs someone to help him come to terms with his fate, or perhaps change it. And of course there's a natural dynamic in that Soraka's power is to heal with a gentle touch and Olaf's whole thing is charging headlong into as much pain and suffering as he can possibly find, in the hopes that some of it will finally kill him.

Soraka's healing is the single most fearful and terrifying weapon Olaf can imagine, a kind of cosmic horror almost, the very embodiment of the forces that keep denying him the glorious suicide he seeks. She has the power to force him to survive. Which, y'know, beyond the poetic resonance, there's a powerful kinky dom/sub dynamic there too, if you're of a mind to go look for it.

I think healdomming is already a thing in MMO RP spaces, actually? It's basically that, but with a sub who is actively, desperately, trying to die.

[theancientwise]

me...

EMMA OF NORMANDY & KING CANUTE Vikings: Valhalla 3.08

[growthhyp]

I love your stories dude! Do you think that you could turn me into a huge Viking warrior?

For a Thousand Bucks

I am preferring you to Jack, the owner of the garage sale. Hope you like it.

You approached the garage, and there he was, Jack, a man who looked like he could have been chiseled out of a block of granite. His biceps bulged under the sleeves of his t-shirt, which bore the logo of a local gym.

"What can I get for you today?" Jack boomed, his deep voice echoing through the clutter of the garage.

You looked around at the piles of old baseball cards, dusty electronics, and faded furniture. "Well, Jack," you began, feeling slightly ridiculous, "I'm a huge fan of Vikings. I know it's a long shot, but is there anything here that could, you know, take me back to their time and turn me into a warrior?"

Jack's eyes lit up with a glint of mischief. He reached behind a stack of comic books and pulled out a gleaming sword. "Ah," he said, "I think I've got just the thing."

The sword looked ancient, with intricate runes etched along its blade. It had a wooden handle wrapped in leather that looked worn from centuries of use. You couldn't believe your luck. "How much do you want for it?" you asked, your voice trembling with excitement.

Jack's smile grew wider, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. "It's a rare piece, my friend. For you, and only because I can see the passion in your eyes, I'll let it go for a thousand dollars."

The price didn't shock you. In fact, you had been saving for a bike that cost twice that amount. The allure of the sword, however, was something money couldn't buy. It was the gateway to your dreams. You reached into your pocket, pulled out the crisp bills, and handed them over to Jack without a second thought. "It's all yours," he said, his voice filled with a strange excitement. "Remember, you just need to wield it."

The moment the cash exchanged hands, a strange feeling washed over you. It was as if the very air grew thick with anticipation. You nodded, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you took the sword in your hands. It felt surprisingly light, the balance perfect. As you turned to leave, Jack called out, "Good luck, young warrior!" His words lingered in your ears as you walked away, feeling the weight of destiny in your grip.

Once you were back in your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a little let down. You had just bought a sword that was supposed to transport you to the Viking era and turn you into a warrior, but all you had to show for it was a very expensive decoration. With a sigh, you decided to at least play the part. You took a swing, the blade slicing through the air with a satisfying whoosh.

As you continued to swing the sword, the room grew dimmer around the edges. The modern furniture and appliances grew hazy, and you felt your legs wobble beneath you. Your eyes grew heavy, and with a final, hopeful grunt, you collapsed to the floor.

When you woke, you weren't in your apartment anymore. The concrete had turned to packed earth, and the walls had been replaced with wooden planks, chinked with a mixture of mud and straw to keep out the cold. The light was different too – softer, with a gentle warmth that suggested it came from a nearby fire rather than a light bulb. You sat up, bewildered, and looked down at your new attire. The tunic and robe felt rough against your skin, and the leather shoes on your feet were surprisingly comfortable.

You stepped outside into the bustling Viking village, and all eyes turned to you. The children giggled at your skinny frame, and the burly warriors cast you dubious glances. You felt the weight of your own disappointment pressing down on your shoulders. This wasn't the epic transformation you had dreamed of. You had wanted to be a mighty hero, not a weakling that could barely lift a shield.

But as you wandered the dirt paths, you overheard whispers of a legendary sword, one said to grant the strength of a thousand men to its wielder. Your heart raced. Could this be the answer to your prayers? You approached the village elder, a wise-looking man with a long white beard, and asked him about the sword. He leaned in close and spoke in hushed tones of the blade's resting place atop a nearby hill, buried in a stone pedestal. The villagers believed it to be a myth, a story to tell around the fire, but you knew better.

You set off on a quest to find the hill, your heart pounding with excitement. The journey was long and arduous, but with the thought of becoming the warrior you had always dreamed of, you pushed on. When you finally reached the hill, you saw the pedestal, a simple stone structure with a sword sticking out of it. You could feel the energy emanating from the weapon, calling out to you.

You approached with caution, unsure if it was a trap or a test of some sort. As you touched the handle, you felt a strange warmth spread through your body. The sword was heavy, much heavier than you had anticipated. You wrapped your skinny fingers around it and took a deep breath. The muscles in your arms quivered as you tried to pull it out. The sword didn't budge.

You took a step back, gritted your teeth, and tried again. This time, with a grunt that sounded more like a squeak, you managed to lift the sword an inch. The villagers had stopped their activities and were now watching you with a mix of amusement and curiosity. You ignored them, focusing all your energy on the task at hand. With a mighty heave, you managed to pull the blade halfway out. The effort made you stumble, but you regained your balance, your eyes never leaving the gleaming weapon.

Finally, with a roar that seemed to come from the depths of your soul, you yanked the sword free. The sound of metal scraping stone echoed through the quiet afternoon, followed by a sudden clap of thunder that seemed to come from the very sky itself. The crowd gasped as a bolt of lightning struck the sword, sending a shockwave through the ground and knocking you to your knees. The energy surged through the blade and into your body, setting your very being alight with a fiery power that was unlike anything you had ever felt.

Your body began to change before your eyes. Your chest swelled outwards, each muscle popping out like the cobblestones of the village streets. Your stomach tightened into a series of ridges, forming a six-pack that looked as if it had been carved by the gods themselves. Your shoulders grew broader, your biceps bulging to the point where they looked like they could crush rocks with a mere flex. The horseshoe shape of your triceps grew more pronounced, and your forearms thickened like the trunks of ancient oaks.

Your legs ballooned with power, the muscles stretching until they looked like they could snap a man in two with a single kick. Your calves grew round and powerful, each one a testament to the might of a true Viking warrior. Your neck thickened, and your jawline took on a new sharpness, giving you the fierce countenance of a chieftain. Your face grew more angular, your cheekbones becoming more prominent, your eyes now set in a face that was both handsome and terrifying.

The armor that materialized around your body was not just any armor. It was the armor of a Viking chieftain – ornate and gleaming, with intricate engravings that spoke of battles won and enemies vanquished. The metal felt like a second skin, molding perfectly to your new form. The helm that appeared on your head was adorned with the horns of a ram, giving you a commanding presence that was impossible to ignore.

You felt the weight of the armor and the power of the sword in your hand, and you knew that you were no longer the skinny college kid from the future. You were a Viking, born anew in the past. Your eyes searched the horizon, hungry for the battles you knew were to come. The villagers watched you in amazement as your transformation was complete, their whispers of doubt now replaced by gasps of awe.