#this viking maniac

[alfredosauce50]

These are the birthday headcanons for one of oldest fans and Patrons. It has a theme and plot, so it’ll be quite different than usual, having been heavily inspired by Night at the Museum and my Viking AU.

I hope you enjoy this, Tullah 😝

Viking Denmark in the modern world

After being thrown a thousand years into the future, he tries to make sense of the strange new world he’s in, and it’s nothing like Kattegat. More importantly, he goes searching for you, and by some astronomical chance, he finds you. But you’re not the same person he remembers, and you don’t recognize him at all.

Mathias had always told you having you in one life wasn’t enough. That he’d want to find you again in the next, then the one after that until the end of time. But now that the opportunity presents itself, would he even be able to have you?

Content warning: Brief NSFW and violence. R18+ only.

Origins

Mathias can trace his predicament back to his expedition to North America. He carelessly picks up a tribe’s religious relic, not realizing that it will grant his deepest desires. Having you in the next life, wherever — and whenever — that takes him. He goes to sleep, not knowing that upon waking up, he wouldn’t be in the same place, nor the same year. Instead, he opens his eyes and finds himself on a hard bench in Central Park in the company of pigeons. He sits up squinting from the sun, wondering what the hell just happened.

He’s not in America anymore, or at least, not the America he knows. There’s no natives, everyone is wearing strange clothing, and the concrete jungle is a bit nauseating. The buildings are so tall that they’re touching the sky, and there are self-driving carriages carrying people in them! To say he’s overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle of a modern city would be an understatement. But his first priority isn’t to figure out where he is, or when he is for that matter. It’s to look for you.

You’re waiting at a bus stop when he lays eyes on you, and time stops. He enters a realm beyond it, like everything just disappeared but you and him. Nothing matters anymore, not the strange world or era he was in, for you were here. He found you in this place, making this place his. He can barely describe the elation coursing through his body as he runs up to you, eyes wide and heart racing. But when Mathias takes your arms and speaks frantically over you, smile growing, you pull away from him as if he were nothing but a stranger.

“Let go!” You push him, much to his confusion.

“What are you talking about? It’s me!” Mathias talks excitedly, not quite registering the fear marring your expression. He comes for you again, laughing as he pulls you into a tight embrace. With your feet off the ground, you start squirming in his arms, frightened out of your wits. “I’m so glad to see you. I thought I’d never see you again! But really, what is this place?”

“I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know what you’re talking about, so could you leave me alone?” You try to pull away from his unrelenting hold on your shoulders. It’s only when passerby take notice of the situation do you have any hope of freeing yourself. They surround him and give him trouble, shoving him back to give you the chance to flee. “You’re crazy!”

You manage to get onboard while leaving him behind, but Mathias chases after your bus like a furious bride left at the altar. And the way he runs is terrifying. He’s charging after you like a bull, following you street after street for an ungodly amount of time before you eventually lose him. One part of you is relieved that you just escaped a maniac who was likely having a mental health episode, but another part of you is wondering that if by some slim chance that everything he said was justified, who on Earth was this guy?

Taking him under your wing

It takes while before you see him again, but even longer before he convinces you to want anything to do with him. You’ll bump into him in the city where he’s sticking out like a sore thumb, still in the clothes he came in, and when that happens, he’ll chase you desperately for a conversation. Luckily, even he can’t quite master the bustling chaos of New York, let alone outrun a moving car. “Wait, just give me a chance to explain, please. I’m not crazy—” He begs as you get into a cab, to where you just yell, “—just stay away from me!”

After a few more chance encounters, you start to feel sorry for him. He clearly needs your help, and what finally changes your heart is seeing him live in a homeless encampment roasting pigeons so he can eat them. Mathias even offers you one, leading you to believe that he doesn’t mean any harm, but is otherwise very mentally disturbed. “I’m gonna get you some help, okay? Don’t make me regret it.” You tell him, leading the man out of the alleyway and to your car. He jogs after you with a relieved grin going, “I promise you won’t.”

He gets fascinated by everything in your house. The furniture, the kitchen appliances, running water, everything. But that also means you need to teach him how to function in the world as it is. How to use cutlery, the phone, public transport. Good thing is that he’s intelligent and adaptable, so he’ll get the hang of everything in a week. His social mannerisms, however, still need a lot of tweaking. The way he talks to strangers can be passive-aggressive, and he stares a lot. People in New York are like nobody he’s ever seen, and he won’t hesitate to point it out to you all the time.

“What are you doing with your fingers?” He frowns, watching his taxi driver rub his fingertips together.

“I was asking for a tip,” They grin.

“What is a tip?” Mathias asks, his accent and foreign background now more jarring than ever.

“You know, when you think I did a good job and you feel like paying me a little extra for it?” The man says sheepishly, hoping to get lucky with who was clearly a rich tourist. “Just common courtesy around here.”

“But you did not do a good job.” He leans back.

You’re tempted to think he’s a runaway from a mental hospital. And one that’s suffering from delusions that he’s a Viking who time-traveled to present day America as he keeps talking about it. To make things worse, he doesn’t have any form of ID, and you’re hesitant to take him to the cops. You decide to keep him at home while you figure this out, hoping that he’d be gone in a few days. “What can I do to convince you I’m not mad?” Mathias sighs, to where you smile, “You’ll think of something. But it’d probably take a miracle.”

He comes onto you. Mathias has always been an incredibly affectionate husband, and by today’s standards, maybe even too forthcoming to the point of it being problematic. So it’s a given that something will happen eventually. While you’re in the kitchen chopping up vegetables, he’ll wrap around you from behind and press his face to yours — much to your protest. “Stop that, Mat. We’re not like that.” But he just grumbles and stays put, expression hardening as he presses even harder. “Of course we are. You’re my wife.”

He tries to kiss you all the time. With his mouth open and tongue is ready for you, he’s quite the menace when he’s in the mood for some love. You obviously respond by pushing him away, sometimes to the point of shoving him so hard that he stumbles back and plummets onto the bed. Mathias will just sigh and look to the side, a little disheartened, but after a moment of waiting for you to let your guard down, he’ll shoot up like nothing and go back to you to try again. After all, he’s faced your refusal of his advances before.

“Mat, I have a boyfriend. He won’t take kindly to you doing things like this.” You shoot him a heated look.

“Boyfriend?” He laughs breathily over you, pressing his forehead to yours gingerly. “What is a boyfriend?”

Interestingly, Mathias is not that bothered by the fact that you have someone. A boyfriend sounds like nothing compared to what he is. To him, it’s more like playful competition that he can’t take seriously. He’s just that sure of your love for him. It’s only if your ‘boyfriend’ tried anything in front of him that he’d lose his mind, which, fortunately hasn’t happened yet. In the end, he’d probably need you to break the spell and to return home, so if he isn’t able to have you, you’re stuck with him forever anyway. Not that he’s complaining.

You can’t grasp the magnitude of his feelings, nor what it truly means to be his. How could you? You’ve never met the man in your life, but he’s known you for all of his. It’s unsettling how sure he is about you, as well as how comfortable he is around you. He won’t always put in an effort to be decent in the house even when you tell him to, even to the point of being naked. Nudity is no big deal to a Viking, so imagine how he’d feel about being told off by you — his spouse. “What’s the matter, kæreste? Never seen a real man before?”

To remedy this imbalance, he tells you about all the memories he’s made with you. And the way he talks about you is as if he really knows you. Mathias is aware of so many things that would otherwise be impossible without you telling him, such as your habits, likes, dislikes, and the way you think. It’s mesmerizing and magical, just as if he was your lover from a past life. It’s crazy how well he gets on with you, and your chemistry with him is so natural, you start to wonder if you could really love him the way he always says you do.

“I won’t put dill in this. It won’t be the same but you don’t like the taste,” He murmurs as he works in the kitchen. He’s making salmon with a cream sauce, and all you can think about is that he somehow picked up on something you’ve never mentioned.

“How did you know I don’t like dill?” You lift your eyes to him quickly, gaze softening out of pure wonder.

“How could I not?” He smiles gently before returning to the stove. It’s only been a week, and he’s already mastered cooking. “I haven’t been lying to you, eskler. I’ve known you ever since we were children.”

At night, he’ll leave the guest room you told him to stay in and come into your bedroom. There’s nothing you can do as he crawls into bed with you, even wrapping himself around you until all you can feel is him. His arms are coiled around your stomach, and he’s pressing so hard against you that you can feel his bulge from behind. One of his hands goes up to your neck, holding it in a possessive, yet glaringly erotic bid for affection. It’s wrong of you to let him do this, but his touch just feels so right, you let yourself give in to him.

You start having lots of close calls with Mathias. He sometimes stand inches away from your face with your lips so close together, you would’ve ended up kissing him if you didn’t turn away last minute. When you do, he chuckles lowly and says this in a tender voice. “I promise we’ve done a lot more than kissing, eskler. We’re adults, after all.” Otherwise, his stare on you is always too hot for you to stomach, almost as if he has something else on his mind. He makes it obvious that he’s obsessed with you, and he’s losing his patience.

He chases you like crazy. It takes him back to the time before you married him, and that gets his blood pumping like never before. He will corner you against the kitchen counter and won’t let you leave without kissing him. Then, against all your morals, you actually do, which ends up with you two in the bedroom, half-naked and about to make love. Something about him feels so warm and familiar, you don’t act like yourself around him. It’s as if he’s put a spell on you, turning your mind inside out until you can’t think straight.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, Mat. This is wrong on so many levels,” You tear up as you climb off him.

“No it’s not. You know it’s not,” He frowns deeply, taking your hand before you can even get off the bed. He’s that high-strung about you, it’s impossible for you to get any space from him at all. Mathias is just constantly on your back, always pulling you back to him, again and again. “You know I’m the one for you.”

“How could I? Some stranger starts following me around like a puppy and I let them into my home?” You gush, red in the face from shame. Now that you said it out loud, it sounded a lot worse than what you originally thought. “And I was just about to sleep with them? God, I must be out of mind. I have to be!”

“But you’re not! Me being here is proof that you’re not crazy because it was you that brought me here. We belong to each other,” He exclaims passionately, his eyes burning with so much certainty you start caving again. But how could you give in when none of this made any sense, and was cruel to Alfred, who had no idea of everything you were doing behind his back? “You’re mine in all the lives you will ever live.”

Alfred eventually catches wind of what you’re doing. You still haven’t figured out how to explain this to him, and you’ve just been so distracted by Mathias, you’ve been putting reality on the back burner. But that all ends when he swings by unannounced with some food to surprise you. However, he’s in for quite the surprise himself. Mathias is in the living room watching TV while you’re typing on your laptop on the dining table, but that’s when he hears jingling behind the door, so he get up and comes over to your side.

“Hey, babe. They had a pop-up sale on some cookies so I thought I’d drop by,” Alfred speaks mindlessly as he enters your apartment with his spare key, and that is when he lays eyes on Mathias. He is visibly startled as he stops in place, but he keeps his composure. “Oh. I didn’t know you had company. Who’s this?”

When worlds collide

Like any other normal person, Alfred blows up on you when you tell him he’s been staying over the last two weeks. After all, what man in their right mind would be okay with their girlfriend living with another man and not tell them about it? You’d have to come up with some pretty good excuses to justify that, and with the way Mathias is holding you, things aren’t looking good for you. His hands are both sides of your waist like they belong there, and he’s giving the dirtiest look to your boyfriend like he’s the unwelcome one here.

“You need to get him out now.” Alfred demands.

“You don’t understand.” You close your eyes.

“What’s there to understand? That you’ve been living with another guy for the past two weeks and haven’t told me?” He seethes, nostrils flaring. The growing volume of the room alarms Mathias, who stands in front of you protectively. “Not that I’d even let you, but don’t you think you’re crossing the line here?”

“He’s homeless, and he’s not right in the head—”

“So is half of New York, but you don’t see me taking anybody in!” He gestures to the Dane like an alien.

“He’s not from this time period, okay?” You exhale.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alfred squints, not at all prepared for what you were about to tell him. “Like he’s from another generation that’s somehow okay with their girlfriends living with other guys?”

“No, I mean he’s a time traveler. He’s a real, bonafide Viking from more than a thousand years ago,” You let it slip, watching his brows go up. “And I know that sounds crazy, but I didn’t believe it at first either.”

“Yeah, you’re right, that is pretty crazy,” Alfred scoffs, shaking his head in utter disbelief, but above all else, a sharp pang of betrayal. “If this is a prank, just know that I really hate it and I’m very disappointed in you.”

“But it’s not, I promise! Why would I pull something that could jeopardize our relationship?” You frown.

“I guess so,” He mumbles, albeit a little reluctantly. “But just run me through your thought process here. How did you come to the conclusion he broke the laws of physics and somehow leapt through time?”

“Well, I took him to the doctor yesterday and he had a bunch of diseases that are impossible to have now.”

“Oh,” He makes a face, shocked and disturbed by how on the nose your explanation was. Now he was really worried you were actually telling the truth. “What else? I mean, you can’t actually believe that—”

“—he speaks Old Norse fluently, doesn’t know what Wi-Fi is, and doesn’t even know to use a toilet.”

“Wow, okay.”

“And I’m sure the Danish are familiar with toilets.”

“Right.”

“And look at him. Doesn’t he look just like Mathias Densen, the Viking earl that lived more than a thousand years ago?” You ask him, pulling up your phone to show him a few images off a website.

“Shit, you’re right.” He digs a hand through his hair.

Your boyfriend is cordial at the start, especially with how bizarre all of this is. He’s also excited to talk to a real Viking, so he springs a bunch of questions on Mathias out of curiosity. The way the Dane answers them only confirms you were in fact, not lying, so he quickly gets onboard with the mission to send him back to the past. You’re all in the kitchen when Alfred drops the bomb on Mathias ever so casually while sipping on a mug. He’s sure you’ve wondered about the same thing, it’s just that he has it in him to actually ask it.

“So, how many people do you think you’ve killed?”

“I don’t know. Maybe hundreds.”

“And does that ever keep you up at night?”

“No, I sleep like a baby.”

“Thought you would.”

Things start to get heated once Mathias reveals that he’s in love with you and has no intentions of giving you up. Alfred was willing to be hospitable at first, but he doesn’t play about you, not even if he’s going up against a warlord turned King. This is his realm, and he won’t hesitate to use that to his advantage to threaten a man who otherwise is impossible to threaten. Not that he thinks he needs to, because he trusts you to stay loyal to him. Little does he know, Mathias has a profound effect on you that not even you can understand.

“You’re never gonna have her. I won’t let you,” Alfred says in a monotone, his expression unreadable as he stares straight at the man. He’s taken on a cold and calculating attitude, a far cry from the excitable nerd he used to be. But Mathias isn’t afraid of him at all.

“Then you will never be free of me.” The Dane smiles contentedly, eyes closed for a relaxed demeanor.

“I’d hate to be that person, but I could always call ICE on you for being undocumented,” Alfred raises his brows at him while he speaks in all seriousness, “I’d do that just so you’d leave my girlfriend alone.”

Shit finally hits the fan when Mathias walks in on you and Alfred in the bedroom. You’re riding him when the door opens, and your head whips to it out of shock. In the next few seconds, everything goes from zero to a hundred as something snaps in Mathias — he’s thrown into a hot and crazed mania, driven insane by the sight of you making love to someone else. The look behind his eyes is as if he’s completely gone, and he storms over with the intention to murder Alfred on the spot. “Mathias, no!” You plead, but it falls on deaf ears.

He pulls him off you and punches him so hard, blood sprays from his nose. But that’s not all. Mathias picks Alfred up by the neck, holding him inches above the ground to choke him to death. If he has to kill him with his bare hands, so be it. And he gets dangerously close to doing it when you smash a vase over his head, getting him to loosen his grip. You help Alfred escape with the skin of his teeth while screaming viciously at him. “Get out. Get the fuck out!” You cry, shoving him back again and again. “And never come back!”

After getting discharged from his hospital stay, Alfred goes looking for Mathias. It’s not the first thing that should be coming to mind after the guy almost offed him, but he has to resolve this once and for all. Because at this rate, someone would really end up killed. And he had a feeling that someone would be him. After a few days of scouring the city, he finds the Dane in an alley in front of a burn barrel and warming his hands. Without even greeting each other, they find that they’re already on the same page about this.

“You don’t belong here.” Alfred tells him point-blank.

“I know,” Mathias murmurs, keeping his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. “But she doesn’t either.”

“Ha! She’s lived here since she was a baby.”

“And she’s lived in Kattegat since she was a baby.”

“Have you not once considered she’s not the (F/N) you know? Yours is probably still in 1000AD wondering where you went,” Alfred shakes his head, frankly exasperated by the other’s stubbornness.

“Then why would I be here if she were not? There has to be a reason for me being here,” Mathias turns to him for a disgruntled look, but above all else was how determined he sounded. “She must be the reason.”

Going back to the past

Alfred goes to the library to do some research on the relic that Mathias picked up. Turns out, it can grant the user what they want most, only with a slight catch. It gives them the means to attaining their deepest desires, not the whole deal. And to reverse the spell, the user has to fulfill their wish completely before having that kind of freedom. So in other words, he has to get you to fall in love with him if he ever wants to return to Kattegat. “Well, it looks like you’re gonna be stuck here as a hobo forever. Not my problem.” Alfred shrugs.

Mathias isn’t disheartened by those terms, even if you did just kick him out for trying to murder your boyfriend. You’ve hated him once, just like you hate him now, so this is just a repeat of the past. As much as that bothers him, he knows he can do this because he’s done it before. Alfred, on the other hand, isn’t convinced he can pull this off at all. While he’s putting back the books he used, he wonders what’s left for the Viking now that they’ll be stranded in modern day America without even two dimes to rub together.

“So, what are you gonna do now that you’re never going back to Kattegat? You have nowhere to stay.”

“But I am going back.” Mathias lifts his gaze to him.

“How?” He shakes his head, eyes narrowed.

“I have my ways.”

“What ways? She thinks you’re an axe-waving megalomaniac, for fuck’s sake. You tried to kill me!”Alfred whispers that last part furiously while pointing an accusing finger at the man, who showed not even the slightest dash of remorse. “And you almost did!”

“And that mean she cannot love me?”

“Yes!” He blurts it like it’s the most obvious point he ever made, but something was still not clicking.

“You underestimate our passion for one another,” Mathias smiles sagely to himself as he recollects the raunchier memories he made with you. And he isn’t afraid to disclose that information to the other man. “When we were together, we made love every night.”

“Okay, I did not need to know that.”

“She was always with child.”

“Didn’t need to know that either!”

It’s understandably very tense between you two at first. Mathias will show up at your door, and still in the last outfit he was wearing when you kicked him out, only for you to shut it in his face. He does this a few more times before resorting to sleeping outside your door, because it’s not like he has anywhere else to go anyway. He’ll do anything for you to forgive him, even if it’s at the expense of your kindness since he’s starving at this point. After days of lying outside your home, you take him in out of fear for his well-being.

When he’s back at your place, he behaves well. He actively helps around the house, doing chores without you asking, and doesn’t even bother you for your affection. You’re barely tolerating him, and you don’t see that changing anytime soon. However, you get a phone call from Alfred that changes everything. Just when you thought you would be keeping Mathias at arm’s length out of respect for what he did to him, your boyfriend is now telling you to throw all of that overboard and do the unthinkable. Giving your heart to him.

“Is Mathias back at yours?”

“Yes, but only because he was starving. Why?”

“Well, we had a little talk and we figured it was best to let everything run its course,” Alfred says. He goes on to explain what he found out about Mathias, the relic, the spell, then how to send him back home.

He also tells you that if everything goes right, you’ll still be here. So if he has to give you up until then, he will, no matter how much it hurts. There’s also some part of you that’s not really you, which explains a lot.

A lot being why you were so uncharacteristically receptive to Mathias in the first place. But as soon as he gets sent home, you’ll return to your normal self again, which is everything Alfred could ever want.

Mathias eases his way back onto your good side. Aside from being a good roommate and giving you space, he will sneak some lingering touches until he works his way up to talking and hugging again. It works better than you like, but Alfred did say you weren’t yourself. You are your past self, or at least partially, but it’s more than enough for a soft spot to form for him. Before you know it, it’s routine for you to sit on his lap and talk to him at night. While nothing happens, it becomes undeniable what’s developing between you two.

“Is it okay for me to put my hand here?” He whispers, letting his palm hover over the side of your face, and you answer him by simply press your cheek into it. You’re looking at him in a way you never had before, with so much love and tenderness that he feels like he’s back home. But then again, you are his home.

You start having dreams about your past. And it’s all so vivid, it feels real. Little do you know, it is, because what you’re experiencing are visions of the life you once lived. Playing with him as a kid, getting chased by him in adulthood, and finally marrying him in the sweet, cypress-scented air. Sailing to new, unknown lands just to give you a better life and a place to raise a family with him. All of it is so familiar, and the memory of Mathias is so beautiful that you end up waking in tears, aching for what feels like a dream of a dream.

Overtime, you remember more about yourself until you’re no longer the person Alfred knows, but the person Mathias does. It’s like your past self is fighting to wake, then on that one fateful night, everything just falls into place. With only one glance at you, he knows you’ve come back to him. You’re staring at him with your eyes wide and lips trembling, almost as if you hadn’t seen him in years. He smiles warmly as he opens his arms for you to run into, and you practically plow into them with tears running down your face.

“Take me home, Mat. I wanna go home.” You whisper into his chest, squeezing him as tight as you can.

“We will, kæreste. You’re gonna take us home now.” He wraps around you assuringly, kissing your head.

The next morning, you and Mathias wake up in the bedroom of your longhouse. He remembers everything that happened, but strangely enough, you have no recollection of being in New York or having a boyfriend there. When he tries asking you about it, you shoot him a weird look and go,“Who’s Alfred?” On the other side of the timeline, Alfred looks for you at your apartment after you text him to come over for dinner. When he does, he notices that Mathias is gone, and upon asking about it, you shake your head. “Who’s Mathias?”

[paintthetownblack]

Shadows of That Night III

Eric x reader

Part I ; Part II ; Part III ; Part IV ; Part V ; Part VI

Trapped in a basement with Eric and a maniacal vampire, waiting on Pam to save the night.

Warnings: needles and torture

-

I ended up in the basement, where Eric had been held seemingly the entire time, silver chained to a lather padded chair. He looked limp, his massive body slumped back.

But, upon hearing me enter, he jumped awake, and tensed up with strenght he didn't look like he had left. He was suddenly menacing as ever, muscles bulging, veings swelling, tendons pulling under the skin. Though his skin was papery white, and his eyes were red and sunken, he still looked otherworldly attractive. Stupidly, that was some of what I was thinking. And I was glad to see him alive.

Eric hissed at the vampire as he tied me into a similar chair, wrists and ankles, all in silver, not to any effect. The vampire looked Eric in the eye. "Pray, Mr. Northman, save your strength, you'll need it."

"You don't know who you're up against." Was Eric's retort.

"Pardon me for this... observation, you are a guest in my home, I shouldn't be so blunt to you, but you provoke me. Are you so dense? Or just distracted by the damsel, that you can't tell I'm older than you? Maybe not by more than a century, but, I assure you, the things I saw in those decades, were far fiercer than any little viking rampage you were told of as a bedtime story." He giggled at his own joke. Tucked his chin in his chest, like a kid.

He believed he was telling the truth, maybe he was even right. Maybe he was stronger than Eric.

"Don't talk about me while I'm gone. The room is surveilled anyway, I'll know." He winked and left through the thick plastic curtain that separated that room from the rest of the basement.

"Still glad you stayed back?" Eric smirked, now that we were 'alone'. He leaned back again, to save his strength, and he again looked dead... -er.

"Wouldn't change a thing..." I shook my head at him.

"Good. Glad to see you're holding strong. Now listen." He began whispering so gently, I could barely just hear, I was sure no mic would pick that up. "I can't protect you now, so here's what you'll do - you'll sit there quietly, won't look him in the eyes, or provoke him. Let him focus on me." A chill went down my spine. I hadn't doubted that he would defend me, but hearing it aloud from him, in his state, was sobering. Suddenly, danger felt very near and very real, and Eric seemed fallible for the first time.

I could only shake my head, and he looked disapprovingly back, but had no time to argue, because we were joined once again by that vampire.

He floated in with unsettling calm, gloved hands held folded at chest level, but anticipating something was coming couldn't have prepared me for what did come.

Too fast for my eyes to perceive the motion, he wedged a tiny silver needle beneath one of Eric's fingernails. I heard his grunting before I noticed the little point of the needle catching the light from underneath his pointer finger nail.

"What the fuck?" I breathed out. Eric was masking the pain, but it was clear, to me, that it was intense.

"How does she read your mind?" The vampire asked of Eric.

Eric exhaled a shaky laugh. And left it at that.

The vampire pulled the needle out very slowly and held it against the dangling, naked light bulb above his head.

Then he ran it across Eric cheek, making a tiny red burn line, so thin, it was healing as it was being traced. The vampire lowered his feet to the ground. That couldn't be good. He could then thump his steps, as he waked behind Eric's chair and placed his hand on his forehead, forcing his head back. He was making sure I could see the needle point approach Eric's clear blue eye ball. I knew it would probably heal and that it'd be fine. But I didn't want to see it, and I didn't want Eric to feel it.

"Fine. You want to know, I'll tell you."

"She's bluffing. She's got nothing to tell you, she's just some girl who works in my bar." Eric interjected. It didn't convince him.

"Pray, let me know how you do it. Just note that, if you are 'bluffing', I will not hesitate to kill Mr Northman."

"Clearly."

"No, really." The vampire perked up. "I would love nothing more than to watch on the security camera, as the sunrise reduces him to ashes. Truly, that would be a sight to behold. One so old? The flames would be deliciously colored. And you too would get to watch. And I envy you. Screens can't render that kind of thing truthfully. You would get a front row seat." he started to laugh. "I have never had as easy a time getting someone to break as you. I didn't even get to warm up. You're young, it's true. But still. I haven't had to touch you. Now, tell me, come on." He gestured flamboyantly with his hand, as he rolled the needle between his pointer finger and thumb.

Eric's gaze was a warning. I knew exactly how it would play out, as soon as I said it. But I believed every word this vampire had said, and so I felt I had really no choice. "It's my blood."

"So it is? Elaborate." He urged me on, gesturing with the needle like a musical conductor.

"It's when he drinks it that I can see his thoughts." I said, looking off into the distance, not wanting to read either of their faces anymore.

"Excellent. How wonderful. You, my dear, have, I am afraid, just signed your own sentence. You are going to be so useful to me, you have no clue. But fret not. Mr Northman won't be wasted either. He is evidently a very important tool in making you compliant. He is going to be as incremental as you are." He said petting Eric's hair now. Eric was not concerned by this, he seemed to not even register it. His apathy radiated all the way to me. I had handled situations poorly in my life, but this time, I had dug a truly deep pit for us to crawl out of. No guarantee we would.

The vampire came near me and, disposing of one glove with his teeth, ran his hand along the veins on my inner forearm, a sort of caress. Or the opposite of that. I would have crawled out of my skin if I could have, my body was revolting, and tensing, flashing both hot and cold.

I didn't feel I deserved anything from Eric at that point, but I didn't know where else to take my gaze, so I locked eyes with him. He wasn't angry anymore, or wasn't showing it, he wasn't afraid, wasn't disappointed, the sight of his eyes was the still point of my spinning mind. Eric held my gaze, as though he were holding my hand.

In the meantime, the vampire punctured a vein on my inner arm with his silver needle, and drew a drop of blood to sit on the surface of the skin. He looked at it longingly. He was ready to lick the blood, but that had to wait, because loud, erratic voices flooded the basement. It was their security men, coming to warn him about something clearly urgent, they were spitting a number back and forth, "code five.", "code five?", "code five!". Code five must've been bad, but how much worse could it get?

Eric perked up, cautiously.

The vampire came to grab my shoulders, as he tried to explain to his men how important it was that they take me with them, since it was already decided the building had to be evacuated. He was also making the case for Eric's being shipped along, since they needed him to torture, to keep me in check, etc, etc. It was a wild thing, to be negotiated over like this. Negotiated over, in a literal sense, because they were shouting in each other's faces, as they leaned above my head. My ears were full of noise, that I was fighting to drown out, so it somehow took me a few moments to realize, when it stopped. The human who had left my ears ringing had been yanked from my vicinity, and was being punched around by a different man. Probably because of the ringing in my ears, it took me even longer to realize that the two men were not of the same side. One could say they were uniformed differently, but that takes a level of discernment more sophisticated than mine, at that moment. Both black combat outfits, both in bulletproof vests, somewhat different.

As more men invaded the tiny room, I started to search around for the vampire. I couldn't spot him in the multitude of struggles going at once, and then a man hit, head first, the concrete floor at my feet, and I forgot why I even cared where the vampire was, when, clearly, more important things were unfolding. My view of Eric had also been obstructed, but I had begun to theorize that these were his men, since I sat tied to a chair in the middle of a minuscule indoor battle field, and I wasn't being so much as shoved.

This only lasted a short time. Soon enough, the victors, the invading group, presumably our rescue, had finished rendering unconscious our kidnappers, and were convening around us, to where I could see Eric again. They parted to make room for the slow, pointed footsteps of Pamela. Wearing stilettos, even in action, she stopped in the mid space between our torture chairs, and crossed her arms, preparing for a dramatic moment, which she had undoubtedly earned.

"If it isn't my maker, and his pet human." She sounded extremely self satisfied. And it was music to my ears. Normalcy, at last.

Eric closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief, he relaxed back into the chair, to look up at his progeny. Pride was radiating off his face.

Pam's icy demeanor melted fast, whatever gloating stance she had choreographed didn't seem a priority anymore. Equipped with black leather gloves, as she was, she tore Eric's restraints off.

He quickly stood up, looking down on her, he cradled her face in his hands. They took each other in, as her eyes were starting to well up. He hid her face against his chest, stroked her long hair, with smooth, gentle motions, not caring about the discomfort of the men in the room, as they waited to be instructed further.

Pam eventually became conscious of them, however, so she pulled away and smoothed the ends of her hair down. "I was up all day, tracking you down, of course I have the bleeds." She pretended to cover her ear with her hand.

Eric instructed someone to untie me. I didn't have much feeling in my feet or hands. He pulled me up, and, as though he sensed it, held me to lean against his side.

There was a cloudiness to our minds, since there were many things none of us were processing in that moment. We failed to question where the vampire had disappeared to. Or how he had done it. I had forgotten that the old man even existed, despite maybe being the only one of us who ever knew it. And I had failed to take in, at that first point of reunion, how good it felt to hold Eric again.

I started to imagine how glad I'd be whenever I finally regained the privilege to see myself out of a room, but, until then, there was the New Blood escort that cleared the premises and proceeded to lead us outside. Not to be ungrateful, but I was becoming very people adverse.

Then the high of seeing the outdoors kicked in, the sense of urgency, the oppressive atmosphere of that house, they were lost and forgotten, we didn't seem to know what to do with ourselves. Leaving had sounded like the obvious highlight of the evening, but then came the urge to stand around and contemplate.

"We should burn it down." Eric murmured to himself. "Fucking secret organizations." I chuckled and, only then realizing what he had said and how it sounded, he did too. A genuine, radiant laugh, crinkling the skin around his eyes.

Pam was approaching, somewhere behind us, arms crossed. She was impatient to leave.

"Pam." Eric called out. He didn't seem to need to see where she was at a given time, he either heard her, or sensed her presence.

"What?"

"Get me some gasoline, would you?"

She sighed, but made to leave anyway.

"And matches!"

She gestured with her hand as to say she knew.

Pam herself didn't return, but a man provided Eric with what he asked for, and he nodded to me, to follow him. We approached the house again, and ascended the front steps, for the last time. Eric kicked the front door open and splashed the gasoline inside, all across the pristine polished floor. When the canister was empty, he nonchalantly tossed it in, and handed me the match box.

"You do the honors."

I struck a match, took a step back and tossed it in. Flames rose instantly. We descended the stairs and took some distance. The entire entry hall was ablaze by then, and pieces of plaster were collapsing, to feed the flames, the white walls, already tainted by smoke, the glass covering the paintings bursting, the flowers withering.

Eric was watching the fire, I was watching him. His face illuminated in flickering orange, his eyes piercing as ever, but still very troubled. He didn't look like someone enjoying himself, despite having been set free, and getting to watch the house succumb to the flames.

"Would you like a ride back, or should we just leave you here? Should I have brought a blanket for you to..."

"Pam." Eric sighed and turned to his progeny. He outstretched his arm to her. I took a step back, but he pulled me in as well, he tucked me under his arm, and pulled Pam under the other. He stood with us both a while, in silence. He kissed the top of Pam's head, his mind still elsewhere. She was beyond happy to be reunited with Eric, on the other hand, and saw no reason to continue dwelling.

"I really did mean it, they will leave us here, if we don't hurry to the car." Pam couldn't, or didn't want to conceal the tremor in her voice, but she wouldn't bring herself to say anything nicer than that either.

"You two go ahead, make them wait for me, I will be a minute."

When Eric showed up, he hopped into one of the cars, not making eye contact with anyone. "What are you waiting for? Aren't we leaving?" That was as good a time as any to depart, the burning of the house, though cathartic in its own way, would, in fairness, never bring the closure we wanted. It would never answer our questions of why, it wouldn't reveal who those people were, or where they went, it wouldn't do anything to restore our sense of safety. I had no idea how we would sleep that day.

All that uncertainty hung over the car ride. No one seemed to want to speak, or listen to the radio. We stared at the country side passing us by, the wild vegetation lit by nothing but headlights on this moonless night, looking dry and thorny. The only sounds, those of the road, the tires on the asphalt, the engine, my and the driver's breathing. I hoped it would be a healing sort of silence.

Pamela was observing Eric with concern, there were things she wanted to talk to him about, preferably without me there, but I wasn't the only obstacle. Eric was very much inwardly focused, holding his hands tightly interlaced, to rest his chin on. She complied with this, for maybe an hour, then, when she could take it no longer, she layed her hand on his back, smoothing over his wrinkled top. She didn't say anything, though.

"There are more of them out there. Those two, they weren't acting alone." Eric murmured suddenly.

"Does that mean what I think it does?" Pam retorted with great exasperation, almost whining, if she were one to do that.

"We have to find the others, we have a responsibility. To put the word out, to investigate, to end this... whatever it is."

Pam took her hand back and leaned into the headrest, "If you so wish."

Eric met my eyes. His expression was humorless, exhausted, I could only guess that I looked much the same, probably worse.

"This is not your fight." He looked out the window briefly, then turned back. "You are free to go wherever you want, I will make sure you have anything you need, if you-"

"I would like to stay, if that's alright."

Eric's reaction was extremely restrained, but he looked happy not to have to finish his sentence. He nodded, and seeing this, interpreting it as an acknowledgement, as acceptance, Pam closed her eyes and brought her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I know I'm thrilled."

[ask-eret-and-snotlout]

Eret: Snotlout added that?! Well um it’s- uuh the chieftesses yaknog!

...yea

Whats the weirdest thing in your guy’s hut.

Eret: Theres this “weapon” Snotlout refuses to throw. I think it is a axe-sword-hammer thing?

Snotlout: AHEM! Its called the mace-axe-sword! The greatest and most valuable thing we have??

Eret: Pretty sure i saw Gobber with one of those in the back of his smithing shop.. and in an old ship.

Snotlout: Well- that just means it’s a good weapon.

Eret: Well im glad it makes you happy at least.

[cloverhasnobrain]

Been saving this Thor doodle attempt to post!!!

Wanted to try doing something more historically accurate for his design since it ticks me off, ended up finding out so much cool stuff about vikings, and here it goes.

More following soon, I hope! I don't have my ipad on me because I'm moving and had to leave it with my little sister, but I'm gonna get it soon and draw like a maniac.

[madhatterbri]

Fight | J.W.

Summary: Jay puts up a fight to save himself and Y/N.

Author's Note: If anyone has any requests for modern Jay, I'll gladly do them. Just this man screams Viking/ Captain. I mean, why have a Bang Bang Cart when you can have a Bang Bang ship?

Also, play the Virtual AEW Escape Room I created.

Taglist: @plentyoffandoms

Pure fiction

Dark clouds covered the night sky, making the two pirate ships almost impossible to see. Rain poured down on two men currently in combat. With one hard punch, one captain fell to his knees.

"The King Switchblade already on his knees? Pathetic," Pac laughed and brought his forehead to his. Jay tried to catch his breath. Annoyingly enough, he was starting to accept that Pac was going to beat him. The Gunns couldn't help him. They were fighting their own battles.

"Grant me some mercy and kill me so I don't have to hear you talk anymore," Jay spoke roughly. The hatred in his eyes grew as he stared at his foe. Pac grabbed his bearded chin roughly.

"I'm not gonna kill you, Jay. Not yet. I have her, Jay, your little Y/N," Pac laughed as a flicker of panic flashed in Jay's eyes. He had to be bluffing about knowing. There was no way he could know.

"You are lying," Jay accused with gritted teeth. Pac smirked.

"Pretty little thing. Very trusting. I told her I was a friend of yours. She is currently waiting for you in the captain's quarters," Pac teased. He patted Jay's cheek.

"Don't you dare hurt her. I will end you," Jay threatened, earning another maniacal laugh. The captain of the Bang Bang ship didn't have a leg to stand on. Pac wondered if the man could even stand.

"I'm not going to hurt her, Jay, but I can't say much for my men," Pac informed him. The man started to stand. Jay wrapped his arms around him to stand up. "Every morning, you'll wake up to a new piece of Y/N in your cell,"

Jay moved to punch him, yet Pac grabbed his hand. He started to pull on his fingers. Jay fell to his knees and yelled in pain. Pac kicked him in the chest. The captain fell on his hands and knees. His back was towards Pac.

"Maybe I will start with cutting her fingers off to prolong the process,"

Jay hunched over. All hope seemed lost. He was going to be placed in the brig, and his Y/N would suffer because of him. Cold metal pressed against his ankle and leg. He looked inside his boot to see a knife.

"Come on, Jay. Take it like a man. Y/N will at least want to know you went down on your feet and not your knees,"

Pac grabbed his shoulder to make him face him. Jay grabbed the knife from his boot and stabbed Pac's stomach. The man with raven locks stumbled backward. Blood poured from his mouth. He stumbled to the railing.

"How?" He asked before falling overboard to his death.

Pac's men immediately surrendered at their Captain's demise. The Gunns helped Jay to his feet. Their captain's arms draped over their shoulders. Even in his weakened condition, he needed to see his Y/N.

"Jay!" Y/N called the moment the door to the captain's quarters opened. She rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him. He grunted in pain. Her scent calmed him. Jay wrapped his arms around her.

"You are safe now. I got you," he sighed. The captain didn't want to let his treasure go.

[pollunam]

Flaws. Part 5.

Early in the morning, we loaded the gear into the lifeboat. I reloaded the pistols, gathered my hair into a tight bun, and was absolutely ready.

"So, to remind you, we attack at night," Gus repeated. "There will be about ten people for each of us, and," he raised his index finger, "Anders, don’t be greedy."

"My wild days are over," the Viking shrugged.

We climbed the mountain; it turned out to be easier than expected, as if our hands naturally found the footholds. Anders helped me up at the top, extending his hand, "Do you remember our agreement?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "but my wild days are not over yet." I was about to move on, but Anders grabbed my hand, stopping me. "Don’t even think about pulling something."

"What exactly do you mean by 'pulling something'?"

"Anything on the verge of madness and death."

"Can someone please stop this chit-chat and damn well get me off this cliff?" Freddie's voice had a note of wild panic.

"Damn it, Freddie," Anders pulled him up as if he weighed nothing. "And we’ll have a talk later," he threw at me while helping the others.

"What’s the problem?" Graham approached me, handing over some ammunition, "you can always deal with her like this."

"Are you suggesting killing Lassen right in front of him?"

"The plan sucks, but since we’re talking about it," Hayes whispered.

"I hear everything," Anders grumbled, coiling the safety ropes. "Watch out, Hayes."

Graham and I exchanged glances, laughing.

"You guys are like kids, seriously."

"Yeah, big guy, that’s why you love us," Hayes picked up his bag from the ground, waiting for Gus’s order to move on.

"Am I right that he’s going to kill armed-to-the-teeth Germans with a bow?" Graham and I watched as Anders moved forward.

"It’s a skill, probably, I’ve never seen anything like it."

"Gus, it’s like we’re taking one scaredy-cat and two crazy kids to a morning party," Anders turned back to us with an indignant expression.

"It’ll be fun," the captain chuckled.

Gus, Graham, Freddie, and I lay in the bushes, observing the life on the German base through binoculars. A car drove up.

"Gestapo," Gus said, lowering the binoculars, "and that coat isn’t bad."

"That’s too much."

"Alright, we’ll move out at night, meanwhile, keep an eye on the situation."

Shouts of Germans were heard behind us. Two soldiers grabbed their rifles but fell, coughing up blood before they could fire. I grimaced, turning away.

"What happened to them?"

"An arrow," Freddie shrugged.

"And where is it now?" Graham looked around.

"It went through."

Lassen stumbled out of the bushes. "There were two more," he gestured somewhere.

"And where are they now?"

"In Nazi heaven," the Viking shrugged, passing right by us.

"Great, Lassen, go ahead and shoot them with your bow," Gus said resignedly.

"We have no reason to wait any longer," I said, standing up and dusting off my pants.

Anders took out the lookouts; his arrows flew swiftly and accurately.

"Commendable," I remarked.

"Y/N, you’re with us," Gus called me over, "stealthily and quietly."

"Aye-aye," I chuckled, crouching by the container. We sneaked around the building from the back. Gus opened the door, peeking inside. He smiled, shooting the Germans sitting with headphones at the receivers, sticking his tongue out.

"Maniac," I exhaled, peeking into the neighboring building.

"And I tell them, it’s not a dog! It’s my wife!" The German’s joke was cut off quite unfortunately; it probably wasn’t even funny. However, Gus laughed, even when everyone else stopped. Then a burst of gunfire rang out.

I blew an imaginary smoke from my pistol, "How long will we keep strolling?"

"Get down!" Gus yelled, dropping to the floor.

Freddie took up the machine gun, spraying bullets over all the buildings and Germans. The bullets whistled, piercing the wooden walls.

"Is everyone here?" Gus got up as sudden silence fell.

"Except for them, sir," I surveyed the fallen soldiers like toys.

"And here are the new acquisitions," the captain smiled contentedly, approaching an officer.

"Leather is so out of fashion, Gus."

"But it suits me, you'll see."

We set out confidently, heading towards a round building that looked like a terrifying barracks. This was the exact spot where Anders had thrown the grenade, ducking behind the wall. He disappeared into the doorway and the billowing smoke.

"Let’s not rush; he’ll manage," Gus saluted the body of a German in the same coat, "I mean Lassen, of course."

When we entered the building, Lassen was standing there, bloodstained, holding a heart in his hands.

"What is that?" Graham grimaced, "Oh my God, Anders, don’t tell me that’s a human heart."

"Checked for presence," the man replied nonchalantly, adjusting his glasses.

"Thanks, darling, this is just what I needed to make today the most traumatizing day of my life." I turned away, wrinkling my nose.

"Well, hello there, friend," Gus smiled sweetly at the man handcuffed to the wall.

"Oh, God, Apple, how did you get yourself into this," I walked over to the battery from which wires ran to Jeffrey's chest, switching off the power.

"And it would be great to remove these too," he shook his hands, and the handcuffs clinked.

"Be patient," I took a pin from my bun and started working on the lock.

An absolute silence fell, carrying an unspoken question that hung in the air behind us.

"Do you two know each other?" Anders gestured between me and Jeffrey.

"We grew up together," the former German prisoner replied quickly, "By the way, remember that guy?"

"The Spaniard?" We started walking towards the exit.

"Yeah, it turns out his sister was a spy after all," Appleyard began his surprising story.

"I didn’t understand a thing just now."

Gus sighed, "Neither did I, my friend, neither did I," he patted Lassen on the shoulder, "leave it here, I beg you."

Anders dropped the heart on the floor and hurried after us.

"Hey, I grabbed your glasses!"

"And a coat for yourself, I see," Jeffrey smiled, "thank you."

Outside the building, Freddie was waiting for us, having rigged the weapon depots with explosives. As soon as we reached the cliff, there was an explosion.

"Beautiful," Gus observed, "well done."

The entire way back to the ship, we talked with Jeffrey, while Lassen shot us extremely displeased looks. How could this man be so grim after achieving his ultimate dream – a German heart?

The sun was slowly sinking beyond the edge of the ocean, painting the sky with shades of pink. I was chopping vegetables for a salad, watching through the small window as the colors in the sky changed. Thoughts swirled in my head, and an unfamiliar voice kept asking, "How's Anders?" and what was happening. Unfortunately, I had no answers. This strange feeling gnawed at my chest, begging for attention. However, let’s leave it for later. It was time for dinner. I peeked out the cabin door, calling everyone to the table.

“What a treat,” Graham exclaimed, rubbing his hands together as he settled into his favorite spot.

I smiled, “Glad to be of service.”

Gus appeared in the cabin, “I think we should celebrate saving our dear Jeffrey and open,” he rummaged in a drawer, “a bottle of wine.”

“Well, I've shared my news, what about you?”Appleyard asked, sitting next to Gus.

“Have they told you that Y/N got married?” Graham asked, generously piling potatoes onto his plate.

Here we go. Jeffrey choked, Freddie shot a disapproving look at his friend, shaking his head, “Who announces such news while someone is eating?”

“When?”

“So, that's more important than to whom?” I shook my head in disappointment, “I didn't expect that.”

Anders entered the cabin.

“To him,” Gus announced solemnly.

The Viking looked at me in confusion, as if to say, “Again?” I just nodded. Again. It seemed like this would never end. Not that it hurt or upset me, it was more amusing and intriguing.

Appleyard stood up, then sat down again and got up once more, “Congratulations, of course, congratulations,” he extended his hand to Anders, “I still don’t like you,” Anders replied, shaking his hand. Jeffrey laughed nervously. “I won’t even ask why.”

“Enough, that’s it, joke’s over.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We didn’t get married, there was just a situation where I called Anders my husband, then everyone thought it was a funny fact and it started.”

“That’s strange,” Jeffrey squinted, “Is it true?” He turned to the others.

They all shook their heads negatively.

“So, you’re lying to me after everything that’s happened? And didn’t even invite me to the wedding?”

I glared at Anders, seeking support, but he just stood there, arms crossed and smiling. “Now it’s really becoming something funny.”

“Yes, Jeffrey, I didn’t invite you because Anders doesn’t like you.”

Gus chuckled, lighting a cigarette, “That’s right, my friend. We barely convinced him to come along to rescue you.”

“Why do you do this to me?”

“Are you serious?” I couldn’t grasp what was going on.

“Of course not, you wouldn’t do that. And you wouldn’t marry him, but that’s between us.”

I have only one question: why do people act like we’re the only ones in the world when they say something or ask awkward questions?

“Why wouldn’t she marry me?” Lassen snorted.

“I’m not sure, of course, but you seem a bit…”

“A bit what?”

“I don’t know, she just wouldn’t.”

Anger was boiling inside me.

“Well, who among us is not the brightest,” Graham sighed.

“All right,” I rose from my seat, holding a stern and mighty weapon – a towel.

“No, wait, tell me, would you marry me?”

“Is that a proposal?”

“Very unfortunate timing, Lassen,” Gus responded calmly.

“I’m not going to answer that question.”

“So, she wouldn’t marry you.” Jeffrey shrugged.

“You’d better keep quiet,” I turned to him, “and stop talking about me as if I’m not here. None of you have any business in this matter, one more joke and I’ll kill whoever says it and blame it on an unfortunate accident,” I said passionately, “And you, who do you think you are? My older brother or father? I didn’t ask for your protection, Jeffrey. And for the record, I would marry him, but that’s irrelevant, so enough!”

Silence fell.

“Alright,” Anders said serenely.

“Alright!” I barked, leaving the cabin.

“I can understand her,” Gus said, “and each of you got exactly what you deserved.”

Two displeased looks immediately turned to him.

“Why didn’t he get what he deserved? He started all of this,” Freddie pointed at Hessie, who had been diligently and quietly eating, trying to blend into the wall.

I exhaled heavily, releasing pent-up emotions. Footsteps echoed, and I knew it was Anders or simply wanted to believe it, turning towards him.

“I can’t understand you,” he began, “you’re absolute chaotic madness in armor.”

“You know what, you can’t blame me for that because you’re no better.”

“There you go again, who told you it’s a blame? I like that you’re so real.”

“Wonderful, and again, why are you telling me all this?”

Without saying another word, Anders leans in so carefully. Breathing and not breathing, our hearts beating in unison, and he’s so close, he’s so close that I can’t feel my legs anymore. I can’t feel my fingers, the cold, or the emptiness of this ocean because all I feel is him, everywhere, filling everything. And he whispers, “Please don’t kill me for this.”

And he kisses me, placing his broad hand on my cheek, pulling me closer.

His lips are softer than anything I’ve ever known, soft like the first snow, like a piece of cotton candy, like pre-dawn air, like floating weightlessly in water.

This moment seems to embody the very essence of love – tender, gentle, silent. In his touch, there’s a promise of eternity, in his gaze – a reflection of our dreams. The taste of his kiss is not just sweetness, but an entire world where there’s no place for pain and loneliness, where every breath, every touch intertwines into the melody of our hearts. Let this moment stay with us forever, as a reminder of how easily even the coldest hands can be warmed and all flaws accepted.

A moment that lasted an eternity, where time ceased to exist.

“Anders,” I whisper, confused and at the same time tender, connecting with him through an invisible thread.

“That’s exactly what I meant,” he replies, adjusting my hair, “and nothing else.”

[sarnai4]

And the Emmy Goes To...

(Spoilers for RTTE). I realized that there is a skilled actor in the Dragons universe. No, it's not Sir. Oglethorpe, but he's a runner up for the Emmy. It's Dagur. He is almost always acting and convincing everyone or nearly everyone.

First, he played the role of the patricidal maniac. Everybody bought that.

Then, he played the role of the inexperienced leader, so Alvin wouldn't know he was planning on taking the Skrill.

Next role was to seem like a loyal lackey for the Hunters. Neither Grimborn brother knew he was going to betray them from the get-go.

Acted like a loyal Hunter AGAIN after he undoubtedly killed a few when he was proving the one spot was a trap. He did this well enough that he found out where Shattermaster was being taken and could even club one Viking in the back of the knee without them thinking they should attack him.

In the same episode, he pretended to be a homeless traveler and almost convinced Hiccup (even though the Berkian literally saw Dagur with the Hunters, so extra kudos for still making him think it's possible that he's got a unique form of amnesia).

You'd think this would be enough, but he has one more unless I'm miscounting. The final time was when he pretended to be the proud mentor for Gustav. Neither Gustav, Snotlout, nor the other Berkians realized that Dagur really knew the kid was incompetent and had been cheating through everything. (Personally, a hilarious detail is that he's graduating two weeks early. Dagur couldn't take two more weeks of him and still didn't want to just say he sucked and had to go😂).

So, I never really thought about Dagur taking an acting role, but heck, he's been doing that all show. He'd be amazing. Whether he's playing a nice, bad role, or anything in between, I'd put money on him being able to pull it off.

[polijakefim]

F  L  A  U  N  T

TRAVIS FIMMEL

Girl's Gotta Eat

There are paths seen and unseen. There are paths taken. There are the Midwestern housewives who sit at home, who formerly popped bennies and ran topless through every jam band show at the local amphitheater. There are the vagrant, longhaired transients who receive stares as they push their cart of nothings around sweaty Southern towns, that formerly received stares only because they were professing at the front of a philosophy class. There are the attention-deficit young men, oft chastised for their inability to focus, but given open creativity, become playwrights and screenwriters. There are the balladeers. There are the celebrities. There is the you. There is the me. And there is Travis Fimmel, sitting in a hotel room in Vancouver, freezing his balls off. His is a story of barefooted farm boy turned bare-bodied model turned actor.

“It’s bloody cold,” he says in a relaxed Australian drawl. Of course it is. Fimmel grew up helping out on the family farm in a small town on the fork of two rivers in the middle of sunburnt Australia. He’s currently in the benumbed west Canadian port city filming Duncan Jones’ Warcraft: a film of epic proportion and expectation. But despite the video game-based spin-off, one gets the feeling Fimmel is the kind of lad who would much rather be chopping wood than mashing plastic buttons on a gaming controller. “I’d never heard of it,” he freely admits.

The path begins. When I ask about his early foray into Australian-rules football, he concedes what stymied the course, “Yeah but I sucked at it, man, I was very bad.” And thus he skipped the sporting life and tried college, “I didn’t pass any classes becauseI didn’t end up showing up—I was doing project managing for construction, like a foreman. Architecture and commerce [was the] main part of the course, I didn’t really want to go to college, I was just trying to fill in time…but then I ended up going overseas.” Fimmel wasn’t meant to be a paper-pushing desk jockey; just as Paul fucking Newman wasn’t meant to sling charred chicory at nine-to-fivers. With those baby blues and gilded locks it wasn’t long before Fimmel was modeling, most notably for Calvin Klein and most times wearing not a stitch. Previously Fimmel has played down his years of modeling, crediting favorable lighting, advanced cameras, and Photoshop for his looks and success. In fact, it’s speculated—and blatantly obvious upon viewing—that Fimmel was the inspiration behind Samantha’s washed-out brick-bod lover—“Jerry” Smith Jerrod—on Sex and the City.

The path winds. “Wound up in L.A., got into an acting class and then that’s where I started acting. I had no idea, never wanted to do this stuff, still don’t really want to do it, mate,” he admits. Fimmel is even-keeled, he exudes a thoughtless vibe, and as much as Fimmel plays it all down, one even has to question how hard he worked to get to his current status. Sometimes his nonchalant nature can come off as arrogant, and it’s easy to imagine he’s often misunderstood, but couldn’t care less; he’s just riding the wave. At first, Fimmel took jobs everyone in Hollywood thought would pay dividends but floundered [see: WB’s Tarzan] until he grew a beard and started swinging an axe. Ah, the farm boy swinging the axe again. It’s in History Channel’s Vikings that Fimmel found his niche, receiving acclaim for his portrayal of the contemplative but merciless, Ragnar Lothbrok, a deep-thinking maniac from Viking Age Europe. There is a swagger to his character that is maintained somewhere within Fimmel. When I ask about his association with Ragnar, he states, “Every guy that I know that fights is always the quietest guy in the room; I just try to think more than talk. You’ll always learn more by listening rather than being the loudest guy in the room. And whatever you do, you do because you enjoy it, so I try to make my character enjoy fighting.”

The path straightens. And so we find ourselves back in that Vancouver hotel room, freezing our balls off with Fimmel, as he’s in the midst of shooting the biggest film of his career. With all the aloofness Fimmel radiates, it piques one’s interest to know what he really is passionate about: “Farming, mate. That’s whatI want to do. I love the country. It’s hard to explain. When you grow up in the country you just enjoy it so much. I love animals and I love trees and anything country.”

And, lastly, that beard that’s quickly becoming his trademark: “It just grew I guess, I couldn’t for ages. I would have loved to grow one when I was a kid, I would have loved to have gone to prom and school and shit with a beard.”

Nothing to do with shedding the barefaced image of your Calvin Klein days? “[Audibly scoffs] Shit. I couldn’t grow one then. Otherwise I would have had one.”

That would have been a different path.

[betterbesttvshowbracket]

current shows in each bracket so far (no particular order yet):

ask box and submissions open! all categories are up for debate. If you can make the case for moving a sitcom to cult classic or a misc. show to prestige, I'm open to hearing everyone out!

When each category has 32 shows locked in, I will seed them based on an average between viewership and ratings and open up the polls <3

CULT CATEGORY

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

X- Files

Columbo

MASH

Twin Peaks

Supernatural

Riverdale

Pushing Daisies

Firefly

Freaks and Geeks

Doctor Who (both)

Star Trek (original series)

Avatar the Last Airbender

Over the Garden Wall

Futurama

House MD

Sherlock

Dark Shadows

Hannibal

Fringe

Lost

Gilmore Girls

Roswell (og)

Skins UK

Midnight Gospel

Adventure Time

Angel

Eastbound and Down

Merlin

Twilight Zone

Dark

Charmed

Battlestar Galactica

"PRESTIGE" CATEGORY

Dirk Gently's

The Getdown

Succession

The Bear

Breaking Bad

Better Call Saul

Chernobyl

Game of Thrones

Boardwalk Empire

Atlanta

The Wire

Black Mirror

The Great

Big Little Lies

Justified

Mad Men

Yellowjackets

Interview with the Vampire

Black Sails

Fleabag

Yellowstone

Westworld

The Handmaid's Tale

Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

Foundation

The Borgias

West Wing

True Detective

Deadwood

Mr. Robot

Band of Brothers

Fargo

Sopranos

Bojack

Boondocks

Downtown Abbey

Mind Hunter

I Hate Suzie

The Last of Us

Barry

White Lotus

Watchmen

Orange is the New Black

The Crown

Ozark

Narcos

Maniac

Undone

The Missing

Leverage

Six Feet Under

SITCOM CATEGORY

Seinfeld

Girlfriends

Bob's Burgers

Archer

The Good Place

Arrested Development

The Simpsons

The Office

Parks and Rec

30 Rock

Sex in the City

New Girl

Psych

Elementary

Abott Elementary

Community

Letterkenny

Modern Family

Scrubs

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Derry Girls

Blackish

Our Flag Means Death

Miracle Workers

What We Do in the Shadows

King of the Hill

Man Seeking Woman

Full House

Trailer Park Boys

Friends

Ted Lasso

Wilfred

That 70s Show

Girls

Broad City

Veep

Curb your Enthusiasm

Flight of the Concords

IT Crowd

Monk

Shameless

Documentary Now

Better Off Ted

Weeds

OTHER CATEGORY

The Vampire Diaries

Pretty Little Liars

Grey's Anatomy

Stranger Things

Smallville

One Tree Hill

You

Criminal Minds

Gotham

The Flash

Legends of Tomorrow

The Mandalorian

Daredevil

The Umbrella Academy

Legion

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Blacklist

The 100

Midnight Mass

Haunting of Bly Manor

How to Get Away with Murder

Gossip Girl (og)

The OC

Young Pope

Haunting of Hill House

Euphoria

Walking Dead

Peaky Blinders

Vikings

Supergirl

Dawson's Creek

Bunheads

The Society

Prison Break

True Blood

Normal People

American Horror Story

Squid Games

Dexter

The Boys

Queen's Gambit

The OA

ER

Spinning Out

[axelsagewrites]

A curios ask 🫣🤭Who is your favourite Vikings character and why 😊

Ahhh this is so hard yet so easy at the same time. Bc I refuse to just say one here are my top 5.

Helga - my girl deserved better

Bjorn - I started as a bjorn girl and will die a bjorn girl

Lagertha - she's been thro sm I wanna give her a hug and a knife to stab someone

Ragnar - if only he had stayed as a farmer

But my number one. My die hard. My red flags look green guy.

Ivar the boneless

I mainly started watching the show cause of edits of him lol but i just love him. He goes from really insecure moments to just pure rage and violence. Even though technically you're not supposed to root for the guy who kills his brother and is kind of a maniac he also is such a complex charecter. It also helps that he is played by Alex hogh Anderson lol

Let me know who your fav is tho since there's so many of them i love but I didn't wanna go on forever

[don-simon]

Missives from the late John le Carré

TONY BLAIR: A mendacious little show-off ... fucking up the world in his Noddy car.

BORIS JOHNSON: As bad or worse as the above. Cowardice and bullying go hand-in-hand, and Johnson is a practitioner of both.

DONALD TRUMP: A thin-skinned, truthless, vengeful, pitiless ego-maniac.

BREXIT: An act of economic suicide mounted by charlatans.

SPIES: [le Carré worked in intelligence for MI5 and MI6 before becoming a famous author] In my day, we were told we were little apostles for truth, pledge to speak fearlessly to power. Now spies are 'craven' [cowardly], allowing the world to be led by 'a handful of jingoistic adventurers and imperialist fantasists, backed by a lot of dark money and manipulation: populism led from above'.

John le Carré (real name David Cornwell) died in June 2022. HIs books included Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (1974), The Night Manager (1993), A Perfect Spy (1986) and The Constant Gardener (2000) many of which have been dramatised.

These missives are from his private letters, published recently in A Private Spy: The Letters of John le Carré 1945–2020 edited by Tim Cornwell (Viking, 2022)

[dryades-angeli]

#notmyariel *3

~ PART 2 ~ Ariel don´t lives in Denmark, Disney says she lives in Mediterranean and Eriks Castle stands in Sicily: It could be for the following reasons: - The small proportion of redheads and people of color that exist live in Morocco and Algeria. Which border on the Mediterranean. - Fabius (Surgeonfish) lives in saltwater areas. This includes the Atlantic and also the northern part of the Mediterranean. So algeria and marokko too. - Scuttle (lesser black-backed gull) can also stay in Sicily during winter times. Just like in Morocco and Algeria. - Due to its Greek colonial rulers in ancient times, Sicily still has Greek influences today, such as temples. Arguments against it: - Erik is not a Sicilian or Italian name, but Scandinavian. It is most common *surprise* in Denmark. - In Denmark there was a king named Erik. This did not exist in Sicily. Roger II, William I and Frederick II were Norman rulers who ruled Sicily in the 4th century. But it was never said that Erik was a Viking. - I couldn't find a castle that was similar to Erik's castle. Sicily has 100s of castles. That's why I first watsched on the most famous castles, then those that are located on the Mediterranean and finally those that are in the northern part of the Mediterranean. That would be Castello Maniace, Castello di Solanto and Castello di Milazzo. You are welcome to start looking. But I haven't found a castle that even remotely looks like Erik's. - Of Triton's children, 4 out of 7 names have Greek origins. Ariels name is French or Hebrew. The other two had an Irish and a German name. And it's also very strange that the names for the live action film were changed to more African ones. As a rule, Sicilians do not have Greek first names, but Italian ones. If so, then they have Greek last names. - King Triton himself comes from Greek mythology. He is a child of Poseidon, the Greek god of the sea. Triton has no children in mythology. But sbecause his children almost all have Greek names, it is quite likely that his empire is closer to Greece and therefore also close to Denmark. - Qoute: Red hair is most commonly found at the northern and western fringes of Europe. It is centred around populations in the British Isles and is particularly associated with the Celtic nations. Ireland has the highest number of red-haired people per capital in the world, with the percentage of those with red hair at around 10%. - The countries mentioned here are all close to Denmark. Especially in Ireland, people have hair as red as Ariel's. - The writer "Hans Christian Anderson" lived in Denmark and the original Fair Tail took place there. - The kingdom of Triton is called Atlantica, which is derived from Atlantic Conclusion: I find it very strange that Ariel should live in the Mediterranean, because a lot of things point to the Atlantic. And I couldn't find Erik's castle in Sicily. And if so, that doesn't mean that his Kingdom has to be there. This is probably in Denmark.

[sonicasura]

‘Is the nickname supposed to be a jab at how husky this dragon is or…?’

‘Melting pot of lava in its stomach, thus Potbelly. Fishlegs’ Gronckle is named Meatlug so can vary in how literal they are.’

‘Ah. Well, you can do no worse than the likes of GhostFreak and the Worst.’

‘???’

‘I will show you the relevant two species later.’

The human teen wasn’t infallible in falling into the habit of having favorite transformations. In fact, Azmuth specifically warned them about this very early on. Skystinger, Nanomech, Spewpa, Bygone, and Strider had become their go-tos when defending themself. Skystinger primarily due to the transformation being one of their first flyers—plus truly discreet.

Courtdanger was getting too recognizable despite the Omnitrix user trying to keep a general low profile. Their Gronckle transformation was also less likely to be thrown around than Scattershot would be.

…They had a weird habit of having to reassure themself of their own decisions.

————————

Flying as a Gronckle was slow. No nice way to put it, but it was true. Very maneuverable yet very slow compared to some of their forms walking speed. Just another transformation to get used to was what it boiled down to.

Potbelly moseyed through the village attracting much less attention than Courtdanger ever did.

The transformed teen liked having the slight anonymity among the dragons the multiples forms provided. Made getting used to the dragons intent language easier. The Gronckle did have one perk going for the species that Dart liked. A very small part of them that liked blowing things up as Spewpa, delighted in having the ability to spit out freaking lava!

(Dart swore they didn’t used to be such a pyromaniac. Explosi-maniac?)

————————

‘Does. Is this dragon abuse?’

Any sort of thoughts over people outside the six teens riding dragons quickly dissipated as they watched a very worrying sight. Chief Stoick on the back of Hiccup’s dragon. Except he was very firmly working the poor Night Fury down to the scales given how tired Toothless was. It was disturbing on a fundamental level watching the dragon visibly strain all day long.

—ROB’d Anon.

The Deadly Nadder transformation has been kinda hogging the spotlight lately. I’m watching the episodes of the series so I don’t miss opportunities for Dart to gain dragon forms.

Ghostfreak and The Worst are definitely worse names compared to Potbelly. Plus vikings do believe bad names are a good luck charm of sorts. Oof, I do remember that episode with Stoick and Toothless.

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Circe laughs cruelly. “You thought I was asking? Cute.” She then proceeds to shoot out a tentacle, using it to grab the rock and rip it from Hiccup’s hands, no matter how hard he tries to hold onto it. 

The woman inspects it, making a small spark of energy in her hand before zapping the rock with it. Nothing happens. She begins to chuckle quietly, dropping the rock into the water. The chuckle grows louder before it turns to maniacal cackling. “You little brat! You really thought you could fool me with THIS?!”

She then immediately stops, looking Hiccup dead on as her eyes glow a vibrant, chilling blue. “You were wrong.”

Her tentacle grabs him by the neck, lifting him into the air as it tightens. “Typical man, thinking he can outsmart a woman like me. It’s sad really.” 

As this happens, Melodía screams, tears flowing down her face. “STOP!!”

“Poor little Viking boy, I tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen.”

“STOP PLEASE, I’LL DO ANYTHING!!” Melodía sobs. “You can have my soul, you can kill me, do with me what you will just STOP HURTING HIM!!! PLEASE!!!”

That was the reaction Circe was waiting for. She drops Hiccup, letting him fall to the ground. The former mermaid looks at him, eyes wide, praying that he’s alright. “Hiccup??”

He didn't even have the chance to react, the rock was ripped from his hands so violently.

Holding his breath, he watched as the witch inspected it, knowing everything was about to fall apart.

As she dropped the rock, Hiccup felt his stomach drop too, and he froze, knowing the repercussions would come.

Suddenly, he couldn't breathe, and he grasped at the tentacle around his neck desperately, legs kicking uselessly as he was lifted into the air.

He tried to speak, tried to find a way to talk his way out of this, but nothing came out.

His face started turning red as he struggled, all he could focus on was trying to loosen the fishy noose around his neck.

He barely heard Melodía's pleas. As he dropped to the ground with a thud, he was gasping for air, the color of his face slowly returning to normal.

"No, Melodía," he managed to croak out, "don't! Not for me...."

Getting to his feet, he stood as tall as he could, his neck an angry red from the grasp the witch had on it. "I don't know what you want with her, but this ends, now! Toothless!!"

Pulling out his sword, he ignited it, and ran towards the witch, weapon aimed to kill. Toothless sprinted forward as well, teeth out, and shot two consecutive plasma blasts at Circe.

There was no reasoning with Circe, he knew that. She would continue hurting others and only seek her own gain for as long as she could, and Hiccup suspected that would be for a long, long time.

The only way to stop her, truly stop her, was to kill her.

[believerindaydreams]

It only now occurs to me that Martha maybe gave him a pass about the whole viking funeral thing *because* she thought this maniac might be his family

[hoghtastic]

As far as I remember, if anybody remembers better about it please help out, Alex and MK we’re out for a weekend together when Alex still was filming for Vikings and he invited her for that weekend. As the weekend was over it cooled a little bit off between them and Alex seemed a little heartbroken because MK only wanted to be friends and Alex wasn’t out of the typical Friendzone like he wished.

As far as I remember MK posted something kryptical about that weekend back than like, that he wasn’t that what‘s expected as a boyfriend materiel or something.

My guess: Alex is nice yes maybe cute but I really believe he isn’t that dreamy BF material etc, i mean remember his and Chucky‘s trips, he’s walking in front of her like a maniac and his RamaLamaDingDong was burning under the sun like a roasted chicken, and couldn’t keep up with him by walking too.

Thank you for sharing more on this topic, anon! 😃

Personally, I'm inclined to agree with you, for the reason you also mentioned. 😅 I mean, if one goes hiking with their partner and is getting tired/struggling to keep up, it would be expectable that the other would slow down a bit so they could still walk side by side, no? 😅 I found it kind of uncaring/inconsiderate of him, to be honest.