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#Viking shit
thesinglesock · 5 months
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I had to get the image out of my head (context)
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xoalin4-xota-linda · 3 months
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VIKING!NIKTO
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I am so, so sorry this took so long. Haven’t been in the best mood lately and lost motivation to write. But I got a little baby birdie the other week, he is three weeks old now and I am in a better mood.
So here is the Viking!nikto hc (or half story, I don’t really know where I was going with this but I tried) Sorry if it isn’t how you hoped/would have liked.
WARNINGS: Non-con?/dub-con?/kidnapping/unwanted touching/murder/blood/mention of slavery?(They are Vikings after all)/mention of rape(not directed at ‘user’)/piv.
Again, deeply sorry it took so long. And forgive me if any mistakes in the writing
Nikto wasn’t a kind man, killed many too much people in times that wasn’t needed. But the king always forgave the violent Viking, he was a good fighter after all, he would be needed in raids or wars to come.
Despite his often violent actions, he was quite popular amongst the women. He had a good body, he was strong, a good fighter and he was decently good looking, and he was just really good with sex. So it wasn’t a surprise to know he had most likely fucked half the women in his village. After all, who is he to deny a woman that comes to him asking for some pleasure?
He often had sex to release some of his pent up anger which seemingly spawns out of nowhere, in a less violent way. He had a few acquaintances, he wouldn’t dare call them friends, he just tolerated them the most. So he was well known in his village for being a woman pleaser and a skilled fighter.
He enjoyed the attention— not all of it, he hated when too much attention was on him. He only wanted people to know who he was, what he has done, and fear him. Nothing more than that. But he didn’t mind the attention from the women, he loved that, and he thrived in it, knowing that he can always get a woman to let him pound his cock into.
That was until that one, fatal day. The day where he was no longer the same person— fuck, he didn’t even know who he was anymore. He could barely feel his hands that much anymore, his face felt stiff, the skin melted together in parts, burnt. His body littered in scars, burn marks from when they had thrown a torch onto him. His face, he doesn’t even want to look at it. Hates seeing it in the reflection in the lakes he cleans himself in, hated seeing the fact that his mouth was in a permanent snare.
He would do anything, take all the pain in the world, if it meant his face would be normal again. He doesn’t even know how he is alive, he swore he had died that day, he wishes he did, then maybe he would have been spared this life of pain and humiliation.
It’s funny how much scars can change someone, mentally and physically. He heard things, people, more than one, or is there just one? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he wants anymore, the peace of death or the feeling of killing someone with his bare hands again, both sound pleasing.
He didn’t get much attention from women that much more, often times they looked disgusted or scared. It was funny in a way, how people easily give up on someone after their looks change. He can’t blame them tho, he would be disgusted too. The men didn’t seem to care that much for it, they seemed quite pleased in a way, they got more women after all.
So he wears a mask to cover his face, save him the humiliation. It was uncomfortable but he got used to it quickly, it put more weight onto his body as it was metal. But he felt comforted in a way, the mask was now his face, less gruelling, less hideous.
Kill, Kill, Kill. That was the only thing going through nikto’s mind, kill them all, his axe piercing through a man’s back as the pain had tried to run, blood pooling out of his mouth as he drops to the floor. Nikto chest rising fast and heavy, his eyes wide and pupils small in an almost animalistic way. He loved this, the blood, the screams, the horror of it all.
On to the next, another man dead, another life taken by nikto’s hands, or axe in other words. Blood splattered on his mask, hands and axe dripping with it, the ground red as screams go off around him. A raid, he loved them, loved destruction, loved the fear in the people’s eyes as Vikings raid their land, taking the women and some of men to use as slaves, slaughtering the people that resided here.
Nikto wasn’t really into all the kidnapping shit, he was there for the death, none of the rape and slavery stuff. He wanted to kill people that’s all, that’s the only thing he is good at. But when he saw you, something changed in him, he completely forgot about the man he was currently killing, his axe logged into the man’s side as the man cries in pain on the ground. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, you were.. beautiful. Okay, maybe not the number one beautifulest person, but on the Gods you were the beautifulest he has seen.
You were different, instead of crying and pleading on your knees like the other women, you had a knife in your hand, stabbing it into the neck of one of his village buddies who was trying to grab you. I mean, sure, he has seen women kill in his village, a lot actually, a couple were in on the raids. But it was different coming from you, you dressed differently from the women in this village he was raiding, you looked odd compared to the other women.
You were trying to protect yourself and get out of the village, but the other people that were running were in your way. He never found the idea of taking a woman for himself that pleasing, he used to get them all the time, but that was years ago, when he actually had looks. But Gods be dammed if he was going to let this opportunity go. Taking his axe and logging it through the man’s skull, shutting him up.
Walking over to you, his eyes locked onto your form and yours only, pushing some of the people out of the way, he needed to get to you, it was as if his body willed him to do that and that only. He watched as you saw him at the last second, turning around and trying to stab him. But completely failed as he snatched your wrist, he picked you up hoisted your body over his shoulder, as if you weighed nothing. You didn’t! Not much to him anyway, you were easy to carry. If he ignored your squirming around and your fists hitting his back that is.
Oh, oh you were perfect, perfect for him, if only you would stop screaming and crying that is. He is going to give you a good life, back at his small house tucked away in the trees, away from the village, but in his home. A little trophy you were, a feisty one that is, but hey, he always liked a bit of a challenge.
Tho he hadn’t anticipated the fact that you wouldn’t be used to the weather in his village, it was almost winter, and soon snow would cover every part of ground. Back where he had saved you kidnapped you you didn’t have snow, you had cold weathers but not this cold. You were freezing your ass off, teeth chattering and fingers numb.
Nikto and his horrible ability to look after anything that is alive, he forgot to get you extra clothes for your small, weak body. You had gotten sick within the first week. And now nikto had to go back to the village and try to get some herbs and thicker clothes to keep you warm, he wouldn’t want his slave to die just yet.
Thankfully he had managed to help you over your sickness, getting you back to health. Tho, that is where the problems started. He kept his house warm, gave you thick clothes and even offered to help you warm up (tired to have sex with you). He fed you, decently enough. He kept you warm, gave you a house to live in, didnt try and force himself on you yet. didn’t give you your own bed sadly, you had to share one with him. But other than that, he had given you everything you could have possibly needed!
So this is how you repay him, by smashing the leg of the wooden chair that was in his house over his head when he had came through the front door. Using the fact he had stumbled over and grabbed the back of his head in pain as your advantage, and running out the door. Stupid thing to do.
A man like him only had so much patience, and he just happens to have little of it. But he had tried to be patient with you, he was slow with everything, didn’t go overboard with touching you, even tho he wanted nothing more then to stuff his fat cock into your cunt the moment he saw you.
So why did you have to run? Had he not given you enough stuff to keep you here? Had he done something wrong? Possibly not! He saved you from that stinky village you were in, saved you from working at that farm, around shit and mud. Given you a home to do nothing, no work, nothing but to please him in.
So why?
He had asked himself as he trailed after you, did you really think you could get away from him? Or were you just stupid? He could see your footprints in the show, trailing out into the forest. His head was bleeding, making his shirt become dark coloured, and he felt a bit dizzy. You had a strong hit, that was for sure, left a painful ache in his head. He couldn’t let you get away with that, no, not after everything he has done for you.
It was easy to find you, well you gave him a bit of trouble, you had gotten pretty far in the amount of time you left, farther then he thought you would make it. But he knew the forest well, knew where everything was, knew where to look, so it didn’t take him long.
You had run though the cold forest, the snow slowing you down a bit, luckily it wasn’t that thick, because holy fuck it was hard to run in it. You were panting, lips turning blue and face stinging, it was freezing and the wind didn’t help. You didn’t even know where you were running, but you didn’t care, as long as it got you away from that lunatics place.
Did he really think you were going to stay there? Think you were going to fold and bend over for him since he gave you food and clothes? By the Gods no, absolutely not. You couldn’t even understand him! Only the simple words he knew how to say so you would understand, ‘eat’ ‘sleep’ ‘stay’ and a couple others.
You hated it there, he was creepy and old, a stinky old man! That is what he was, forcing you to lay in the same bed as him, wrapping his arms around you so you are immobilised and unable to move. Having to feel his strong chest up against your back, breathe against your shoulder as it passed through the mask he wore. Hands occasionally moving to touch your thighs or to straight up grope your tits
Not to mention when he baths you, he was kind enough to warm the water by boiling it but that wasn’t the point! You had tried to argue with him, tried to tell him to get out of the room or to turn around so he wouldn’t see you. Which he definitely understood what you meant but didn’t care, forcing you into the wooden tub, naked and exposed. Luckily you had managed to convince him to let you clean yourself instead of him doing it.
Like hell you were going to stay in that place, he even had this weird dog looking thing— definitely wasn’t a dog. But you didn’t know what it was, but it was just as creepy and scary as him. And it stunk! Talk about being related to a mutt, no wonder they got along. But this wasn’t the time to think of that, you had to run, get away remember?
Yes, that is what you were supposed to do, run, escape and never return to that maniacs hut. You weren’t supposed to feel a hand grab the back of your neck, nor being thrown into the snowy ground as a tall figure stands over you. This wasn’t how it’s supposed to go! Why can’t the Gods give you at least some luck? Did you upset them with something? Because you would beg and plead for how ever many years it’ll take if it meant they’ll spare you from the absolute, horrifying glare this man is sending you.
He was pissed, no, more than that, the man looked like he was about to rip you apart limb to limb. You wanted to take back what you did— say that you’ll be good and please him if it meant he wouldn’t drag you back by your hair and chain you up outside his place like you were a dog, out in the freezing snow with noting back a thin, stinky, dress. You really do wish you hadn’t done that, should have waited longer maybe, when he wasn’t in the house.
But no, now you were suffering the consequences. At least he didn’t beat you to death like you half expected he would have done when he had dragged you back, tho you half wish he would if it meant he wouldn’t leave you outside for hours in the snow until it felt like your limbs were about to fall off.
You were so, so cold, lips bluish purple, hands numb and you could barley feel your feet! His house was mere feet away, but you couldn’t get to it, the chain around your neck keeping you tired down to a wooden stake outside. Your eyes half lidded and you felt as if this was your end, you time had finally come. At least you would get to see your family again, because you doubt they managed to escape the Vikings.
But just as you felt like you were going to pass out, your light in shining armour came out, your kidnapper. You don’t know if you should feel thankful or wish you were left out there for longer. But he had brought you inside, put you into the tub of heated water and made sure you didn’t drown in it as he surprisingly gently bathed you and got you warm. The room was warm, the fire which had warmed up the pots of water keeping the hut lighted and warm.
You didn’t fight him, you couldn’t even, you were too cold, but slowly the warmth was coming back into your body. He had taken you out, dried you, and Brought you to the bed he shared with you. You still felt cold tho, the warm bath didn’t warm deep inside you unfortunately. But don’t worry, he’ll help with that, he’ll make sure you are very, very warm.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t THAT rough, he didn’t tear at your skin and eat you alive like you imagined him too. His hands running along your body, groping at your breasts even as you whimpered and protested, but still too weak to push him away. He looked like a feral beast right now, or just a horny old man. Shoulders rising and falling fast, heavy breathing, eyes wide and pupils dilated, bare hands gripping your thighs as he shuffled between them.
He had such rough hands, and the top part of his pinkie finger missing on his right hand along with dints and burn marks along his large hands. He looked like he didn’t know what to do for a second— had it really been that long since the man got some pussy? Yes, seven years since the the man only used his hand.
He was even shaking! A bulge in his pants, fuck, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was drooling underneath that mask of his. He didn’t take it off, and part of you is glad, you didn’t particularly want to see the face of the man who had literally kidnapped you and forced you to live in his home, and now was about to fuck you to help you get warm, after he had locked you outside.
You were scared, terrified honestly, afraid of what this man was going to do to your poor pussy, what this VIKING was going to do to your poor pussy. You had had sex before, with a few village boys back In your home but they were all your age, immature boys who didn’t really know what to do. You didn’t know if he was going to be brutal with it or not, if he would leave your pussy ruined and aching in pain. He was a Viking after all, and from what you read, all of them are rough, cruel, and nasty.
But you didn’t have much time to think about it, because his hand was already down there, spreading your lips to him with his index and middle finger, his other hand holding your waist to keep you put as you tried to squirm away. A cry of— pain? Pleasure? Leaving your lips as a finger thrusted onto you, stretching your walls which left you gripping the fur of the bed. It hurt slightly, the stretch, but at the same time felt slightly good. But then he added two more, which stretched you wider and made you cry out as they thrusted in and out of you. Preparing you, not forcing himself inside like a desperate mutt.
But it wasn’t long until you got the full thing, you hated to admit it, but he was fucking good. Tears rolling down your cheeks as your legs wrapped tighter around his thick hips, his fat cock plunging deep inside your sopping pussy. He was big, a thick and decently long cock, and it was.. how do you say it in the most pleasant way— it was half burnt. Simple as that, a scratchy feeling to it as it slid along your walls, it wasn’t unpleasant, it heightened the experience for you actually! It felt good, and he was hitting all the right places.
You doubt he could feel that side of it tho, but he still felt the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, that was obvious by the way he was panting and groaning into your neck like a dog on heat. Rutting up into your cunt over and over and OVER again. You were so tight, warm, fuck you were perfect for him, you felt so good. A pretty little thing you were, even tho you were a fucking brat and had basically tried to kill him earlier. He would forgive you for that, as this was the perfect apology you could give him, even tho he had taken it forcefully from you.
But you were enjoying it, you were moaning loudly and had tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks. Your hands clawing at his back, leaving scratch marks down his already heavily scarred back. But he would be lying if he didn’t enjoy it, because he did, it felt absolutely fucking delicious to him.
He wish he wasn’t in wearing his mask right now, so he could take one of your bouncing breasts into his mouth, or even to kiss you to shut your moans up. But that will have to be for another time, he wasn’t ready just yet, he wasn’t sure if he would ever be. But he isn’t going to dwell on it that much, not when he had a pretty feisty little lady to fuck his kids into.
By the end of the night, you were definitely warmed up, wrapped in the arms of a large, sweaty man who practically clings to your body. Hands groping your tits as his masked face lays against the back of your neck, the feeling of his semen still leaking out of your swollen, aching cunt. He did leave it aching in the end, but at least it wasn’t in pain.
Ok, I might have gone overboard with it. It honestly wasn’t supposed to be this long, lmao.
Sorry if this was shit, I tried, and took fucking forever to make, I’ll take all the blame for that😔
Please tell me if it’s shit or not and if there is another warning I should put in because I missed something. Thank you for reading of you got this far🙏
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sweeetcheeese · 10 months
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𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘊𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴. 𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘢𝘸, 𝘍𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭, 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘸.
~Sleep Token Some more of my Druid!Jack being a silly lil guy during the full moon <3
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technovillain · 1 year
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you think it's always sensitive and good. you think that i want to be understood. i've got a match, your embrace and my collapse.
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soft-cryptids · 1 year
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...you guys are enabling my brainworms, so here, have some sketches. 
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I am gay
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Not all these historical fiction things like noooo if I get yeeted into a monastery or nunnery I’d be irrelevant and DIE OF BOREDOM
when like that’s where they made all the manuscripts with weird shit in the margins
I’d rather make manuscripts with weird shit in the margins than a lot of the other options on offer
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geek-22 · 17 days
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A stupid reason the Saxons hated the vikings
The vikings and Danes washed once a week. They looked after their hair. They braided it.
This resulted in a lot of Saxon women sleeping with the Danes.
Which Saxon men did not like.
Because Saxon men had low grooming standards and were mangy.
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aghhh i’ve been thinking about the httyd books again and how Absolutely Insane they are…. i ADORE watching people react to them because there’s this one point in the series where everything just feels different. and they don’t give you time to process what on earth happened before launching you head first full speed into one of the best pieces of literature i think i’ve ever read
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allegrabanner · 6 months
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i’m probably not the first one to notice this, but it really breaks my heart that from chapter 17 onwards, thorfinn wears the clothes that the english woman gave him right before he signalled to askeladd and his crew to invade. she says they’ll be big for him, and she’s right - he more than grows into them. by the time askeladd is dead, he’s pretty much worn them out completely. and. i don’t know. just. thorfinn, consumed by rage, so much so that he doesn’t know anything but a quest for revenge, holding onto something like this is just. like i know he probably didn’t have that many other options, but he could’ve got a new set of clothes from any of the other villages askeladd and crew raided if he’d wanted to, but he didn’t. it’s like. he’s so used to the violence by this point, so consumed by hatred and so desperate for some sort of meaning to his emotions, but he wears a symbol of the one time someone was kind to him, and he knows without a doubt that he’s made her suffer. i. my heart goes out to him. because, i think that this is part of the reason he was able to bring himself back. because yes, he carried his father’s knife, and yes, he carried the knife of a man he killed, but he also carried the clothes, the warmth, the comfort, of the first person to look beyond his violence - look it in the face, even - and know that he could be someone so much better.
i just. this is, for me, what makes thorfinn so. i don’t know. i think, this is just a reminder that he is. still a child. and he’s not done growing up, but he’s done so much more and so much less of it than most. he’s an adult but he’s a child. and more importantly, there are people out there who are willing to help him be one. but he chooses not to be, even though he is, and that makes me. i don’t know.
i guess it’s because this marks a turning point for thorfinn. because in choosing to warn the woman who gave him clothes, food, care, and shelter, he is telling her that he doesn’t want the life of a viking raider. but in choosing also to still go through with askeladd’s plan, he’s saying that he does. and as he runs off to raid with askeladd’s men, he’s choosing to leave the english woman and everything she represents behind. but at the same time, he wears the clothes she gave him, right up until the end.
i don’t know. i have a lot of feelings about this scene and what it means. because yes, ultimately thorfinn does choose askeladd over the other possibilities, but he also, just for a moment… doesn’t.
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queenbananya · 1 year
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This week's episode of Vinland saga was deeply heartbreaking.
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So far we have seen how terrible slavery is, but only (mostly) in theory. In the way one may look at a neighboring country with serious issues and think, yeah, that sucks.
This episode takes it to a personal level. Sure, we saw Einar's family die at the beginning of the season, but we didn't care for him then. We didn't know him. He was just one of many victims. Like Arnheid. She is first introduced as a mild, nice lady that won't harm a fly, fooling us into thinking her life is perhaps not too bad. And little by little, we're fed pieces of her misery.
Abused by the mistress of the house. Doomed to a life as sex slave, and pregnant with a child of the master. A dead child. A lost family. And yet she smiles through it all. She picks up the little crumbs of joy she can and gives up on her freedom, on her past life. She is able to laugh at last. Until the storm hits, and she's not able to let it pass. Just when she was starting to accept her fate, when she was settling in her life as a slave.
Garnar, her husband, ruined by slavery, shaped into a desperate beast driven by blind revenge finally reunites with her, only to die in her arms as he dreams about the life they can no longer have. And she can't even have that one moment in peace, because she's a slave, and surrounding her are men waiting to take her back to her doom. Her life is no longer hers. Her future snatched right out of her hands.
Just beautifully done. At the beginning of the season I used to think Thorfinn was being too hard on himself. He was just a child after all, when he was out in the war. However, living like this, amongst slaves, experiencing first hand their struggles and regrets, the sheer injustice of the abuse, how could he not blame himself? He, too, ruined lives, broke families apart. Killed indiscriminately and sent people into slavery.
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squirrelno2 · 8 months
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It's been years since the How to Train Your Dragon movie came out and yet I still experience extreme excitement and then extreme letdown when people reference Toothless only for him to be large and black instead of tiny, green, and capable of language
Anyway I invite everyone to consider that all toothless posts are ten times funnier when you replace movie Toothless with book Toothless thank you for your time
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cycleknots · 1 year
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The flowers Bob chooses for each of the people in his mind are so sweet to me, as someone who has been so obsessed with flower language lately.
Tia is a pink carnation (both her plant form and the blooms that lead to her bottle). The most common meaning of them is literally “A mother’s eternal love”. It’s also a thank you flower and a flower for remembrance.
The path to Truman’s bottle is lined with black delilahs; Betrayal. His animate plant version seems to be a snapdragon: A flower relating to deception, but also presumption. A request to not assume things, because you never truly know how someone is feeling.
Helmut’s path is marigolds. They stand for grieving, mourning someone held so close to the heart. I wasn’t able to find any official standing on what his plant really is, but to me, the petals seem to be zinnia petals. (There is a type of zinnia called a cactus zinnia, so I thought it might be a play on words, but maybe that’s a stretch.) Zinnias are known for their endurance. They stand for everlasting affection, remembrance, and a sense of youth, even in old age. It’s a TRIBUTE flower.
These are emotions he refuses to talk about, but they’re so loudly shown through the plants he cares about so much. He cares SO much and I will never shut up about it.
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deeplord · 1 year
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dragons and whatnot
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behold-the-griffin · 5 months
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okay, so I WAS live-blogging my read through of @athingofvikings fic, A Thing of Vikings, but I stopped some months ago, and THAT was because I was curbstomped by the need to create THIS:
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All hail Queen Ruffnut the Wordsmith of Norway, first of her line. May her reign be long and prosperous.
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steveyockey · 11 months
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“tom won succession” tom won the role of mattson’s doormat
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