#this viking maniac

[angelolsenwife]

florence shaw playing the tambourine right in front of me was the most beautiful vision i ever had

[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.

[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.”

[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.

[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

[jztars]

Yantober | Day 2 - Kidnapping

Bksor / Black Knight

*Male pairing

° • ° • ° • ° • ° • ° • ° • ° • °

"OI, Crusader! Wake Up!"

"Lug that brick to his helm' that'll get 'im."

"Oh, that's some thinking."

A hard chipped away brick almost dislocated your jaw, reeling from the sudden shock and pain your heavy breathing was mixed in with sudden frantic movements. There was blood dripping down the sides of your arms, the rustic grating of the chains made your head spin.

"I said lug it you skinny sac not throw it so 'is head comes clean off!"

"Well you should've done it yourself ya loon!"

Lifting your battered helmet up the arguing seemed to have come from the undead skeletons. Defying everything you knew about anatomy there was a fat one wearing a Viking helmet hauling around a huge mace. The whirling of the weapon was practically visible as it soon launched the weapon at the smaller skeleton shattering him instantly.

"I'll show the end of these spikes ye' rattling stick!"

Squinting your eyes, ignoring the throbbing pain in your head you made out the two undead soldiers going back and forth bickering at each other. Each bone clattered as the skinnier one reconnected itself as if it didn't explode into pieces. Not long, a stabbing pain caused your gaze to falter and look back down on the ground. It was clear the battle that was bestowed upon you ended in complete failure.

Humiliated, trapped, and chained.

Fighting tooth and nail on the battlefield, sacrificing your own blood for the power of the sun's resurrection. Yet alas you stumbled upon the same fate as all the other nameless crusaders lost to time. Death would have been a better outcome, yet knowing the Black Knight there would be a slow torturous process before getting fed to one of his pets.

Fate was already written in stone before you even walked up the crumbling hill to take on the undead army alone. The clicking of heavy boots was unrecognizable to the cloudy ringing in your ears. You didn't realize that the skeletons had ceased there pointless arguing, stood firm while they kept quite the distance away.

"Eyes up here Crusader." The words where smooth yet gruff. The air felt suffocating now, a heavy burning in your chest caused you to reel back. Taking in gasps of air, the pain became more severe like a wildfire spreading throughout a dead forest. "Much better."

The Black Knight stood tall, minor flames flickered throughout the holes of his armor. Many had called him a walking corpse which was justified by the army he led. Blows of his fiery mace that cracked through even the toughest of welded armor, A never-ending army that only grows with the countless lives perished, and his pets. Freaks of nature that have slayed innocent lives out of sheer enjoyment. Eventually the burning pain in your chest died down to a mere dull ache, eyes widening knowing the disgrace you bestowed upon the small hometown you resided in.

"A pitiful attempt. Not even slaying my first well rounded pet." Now he was just mocking you. Attempting to bite back a response no noise left your mouth. Your throat felt as it were ash, yet blood seemed to be continuously forming along your gritted teeth. A small blinding light was forced into your chest and all the never-ending pain seemed to have vanished. Your vision now visible, taking in steady breaths instead of the harsh jagged ones, it felt like you were resurrected again.

"You... intrigue me to say the least. The cries of pain amuse me like no one has ever before." He let out a hearty maniacal laugh which reverberated through his helmet, "We're going to do this dance again and again until I grow weary of it. Every time you fall, snap, break, you will fall right back here."

Through the rusted iron bars, the Black Knight threw a heavy sword at your feet, "Enlighten me Crusader. Free yourself to face me again, or rot in here like the rest of the nameless lot. With each blow I'll lavish draining the blood from your body." The Black Knight turned; the suffocating air seemed to lighten up with each distant step he took.

[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.

[jakey-beefed-it]

Okay so back in 3rd edition/3.5 of D&D, there were monster ‘templates’ you’d apply to a character with class levels, or another monster, in order to make them a bit different and/or more powerful. Among these templates were ‘vampire,’ ‘celestial,’ ‘fiendish,’ ‘dire,’ ‘zombie,’ etc. So you could fight wolves at level 2, then dire wolves at level 4, for example. 

And you could stack them, too. So you could be fighting, for example, an overlarge wolf (also covered in bone spikes because d&d ‘dire’ has nothing to do with aenocyon dirus other than the extremely base level common understanding that they’re ‘big’ wolves) that happened to be from one of the Nine Hells would be a fiendish dire wolf. Makes you wonder a bit about the ecosystem of Avernus, but whatever.

Anyhow this became something of a meme among the players; the go-to joke encounter being a fiendish dire weasel. 

Years pass. Editions come and go. I eventually get an invite to start playing 5e, and need to come up with a character. I don’t feel like messing around with too many powers since I’m new to the edition, so I figure I’ll go something basic- fighter or barbarian. Barbarian is the more interesting of the two to me, so I pick that, but I don’t want to go the typical viking route, especially. Instead I think back to like, proto-indo-europeans and decide my guy will be some kind of steppe nomad who worships ‘earth mother’ and ‘sky father’. Well, steppe nomads are all fun, but the most fun are the Mongols of course, so a lot of his culture is inspired by that, with a dash of Turkic thrown in for certain words.

So far so good, but I also need him to have a reason to be an adventurer, and want there to be some edge to the character- not a lot, just a bit -so decide he’s an exile. The logical reason for that being his barbarian rage- steppe nomads fight with shortbows from horseback; a big STR based maniac doesn’t fit well to start with, and if, say, he got too mad and killed someone in what was supposed to be a friendly brawl... yeah, now I’m on to something.

Still, I’ve already decided his mother was the clan’s shaman, so he’s got some social clout and there needs to be a reason the clan resented or feared him, and it can’t be his personality since I want him to be a fundamentally good noodle. Oh! Tiefling!

And so was born Altanin the Unbreakable, who I did not realize until months later was, in the terminology of previous editions of D&D, a Fiendish Dire Mongol

[no-romo-hoes]

How to enslave your brain-damaged son?

Yooooo so I just had this crazy dream, right? It’s a How To Train Your Dragon dream. but it’s like, reaaaaaally dark.

Ok so most of the plot is the same. Hiccup is horribly mistreated and neglected by his father, meets Toothless, plans to run away (which would have been an awesome film of its own) but doesn’t, tries to prove dragons are actually pretty neat, fails, blah blah blah you get it. But in my dream, when the vikings capture Toothless in the arena, Hiccup gets a pretty nasty blow to the head and suffers some freaky brain damage. And I’m not talking concussion, or even comatose, I’m talking lose-90%-of-your-memory-and-rewrite-your-personality type brain damage. 

So Hiccup has kinda lost his macaroni, he’s basically become a human-hating violent-ass kill-on-sight maniac, and Stoic has to chain him up so he doesn’t hurt anyone. Also he’s somehow really good at hitting people with a wooden staff, so that’s a thing too. Now the vikings are still dicks and Stoic is even worse than is canonical, so they wonder.

“Hmm... ah wonder what to deur with mah psycho son who’s completely bat-shit crehzy and his psycho dragon pet. Oh! Ah know! Ah’ll mek ‘em gladiators!!” 

(Stoic decides to make Hiccup and Toothless gladiators for those who can’t read Scot)

So now Toothless and Hiccup are enslaved by the vikings and forced to fight other vikings and dragons as entertainment. Hiccup (who again doesn’t remember anything except the fact that he loves Toothless) is forced to wear a helmet that looks like the one he wears in httyd2 that’s linked to some sort of device that Gobber controls. Whenever Hiccup gets too close to the crowd or hurts his opponent too badly, Gobber turns a dial that injects iron from the helmet straight into Hiccup’s bloodstream. truly truly vile, especially when you can actually feel the blood thicken and weigh you down. it hurt, honestly.

Anyway yeah that was my dream. someone can use it as inspiration for a fanfic, I don’t really care as long as you credit me :)

[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.

[aldhar-ibn-beju]

A sapphic romance (Chapter 5)

Happiness in love and insect extermination

For some time now, the unlikely duo had been wandering through the park, which resembled a grotesque nightmare, dodging excrement and all kinds of rotting relics of human decay. The wind carried with it the nauseating stench of rotting leaves and old rubbish - an olfactory proclamation of desolation. The trees, bare and stunted, reached up into the gloomy sky like the cursed fingers of a long-forgotten deity. An abysmal darkness, which could not only be explained by the blackness of the night, lay like a dirty shroud over the run-down location.

Meanwhile, Sappho regretted that in her haste to leave, she had neglected to take her service weapon with her so that she could keep the vermin at bay if necessary.

"Not far now, copper. You'll soon see your sweetheart."

Isca grinned mockingly and presented the ruins that adorned his mouth. The pestilential odour and the sight of teeth that would have done credit to the legendary Viking king Harald Bluetooth almost made the enamoured policewoman's stomach revolt. Doubts gradually gnawed at her mind, but the erotic thoughts of her beloved drove her on. Finally, they reached a clearing where Styx, more beautiful and aloof than ever before, waited for her junky customers in an aura of danger and attraction. The eyes of the black goddess of love with the mind-expanding job narrowed when she saw Isca Riot.

"Well, well, cockroach and baby cop! You little bitch should get better company when you get the chance."

The drug dealer's voice dripped with mockery, while her body language betrayed contempt and mistrust. Sappho, overcome with romantic feelings, intended to rush to her, to sink into her lover's strong arms, but a cold stare from Styx held her back.

"So, Riot, what do you want?"

Instead of an immediate response, the cockroach quickly grabbed Sappho with a rough movement, pulled her to him and put a knife to her throat. The humanoid insect's eyes glittered with ominous anticipation of the planned coup. The guardian of order, who had now really become a hostage, froze, but her gaze remained fixed on Styx.

Isca grinned broadly, aware of what he thought was his inevitable triumph.

"A simple transaction. I have your sweetheart, and you give me what I ask for. Besides, I saw you take care of her colleague and everything else. So for now, move the stuff and the cash over!"

Styx laughed dryly, a cold, harsh sound. How could this wretched creature think she could get away with her attempt at blackmail? She, who had already experienced many a trauma as a child soldier in her old homeland, had already sent true warriors to Hades in hopeless situations.

"You idiot. Do you really think I'm going to let an insect like you blackmail me?"

She took a step forward, her eyes as merciless as the dark depths of hell, giving a silent promise of death and corruption.

Isca was visibly unsettled, but he pressed the knife even harder against the hostage's throat, causing a small trickle of blood to ooze out.

"You have no choice, you black slut. Stay where you are or your lover dies."

Styx contorted her facial expression into a dangerous, almost maniacal smile. With a speed that reminded Sappho of a lithe predator whose lethal grace was emphasised by fluid, elegant movements, the black Amazon queen charged at Isca. She grabbed him with her bare hands, twisted his arm and disarmed him with a skilful movement. The blackmailer cried out, but it was too late. The dealer's hands closed around his neck, her fingers like iron clamps, a deadly embrace that knew no mercy. Isca Riot's eyes widened, his face turned blue and finally his body collapsed like a pile of worthless flesh...

"I'll see you again in hell, cockroach, and I'll crush you there for all eternity."

Sappho, ignoring the slight bleeding, breathed heavily, her eyes fixed on Styx, who now stood before her, the corpse of Isca Riot at her feet. Although the inspector struggled against it, the dark aesthetics of the act of killing had aroused her sexually and revealed another, unknown side of her true nature.

As if conjured out of nowhere, Styx suddenly held a hemp rope in his hands, picked up the lifeless body and tied it to a single dead tree with inhumanly elegant strength. Thus Isca Riot now hung from his Judas tree as a macabre beacon of failed betrayal and extremely fitting to the ambience of the park; another human sacrifice to the dark abysses of the forgotten.

"You must decide now, baby copper. You can follow me into the darkness and perhaps perish, or you can continue your boring life in your monotonous world, only to wonder when you're old and ugly whether you ever lived at all. Then it will be too late! Will you now follow me into the fascinating depths of my universe?"

Sappho, enchanted by the harsh, seductive voice of the goddess of death in human form, nodded wordlessly, ready to immerse herself in the dangerous beauty of gloom.

"Welcome to my cosmos," Styx said quietly to Sappho, "now let's explore the world beyond banality."

Together they disappeared into the darkness, hand in hand. The night seemed to engulf the lovers, as if it wanted to protect the unlikely couple, bound together by the whims of fate, in its shadows.

© 2023 Q.A.Juyub alias Aldhar Ibn Beju