#modern vikings one shot

[axelsagewrites]

Where Am I?*Part Four

Pairing: modern!f!reader x (to be determined...) Ubbe, Ivar, Sigurd, Hviserks, Bjorn

Word count: 2146

Warnings: drinking, Sigurd making a cripple joke, drunk reader

Series Summary: After falling head first the reader wakes up face to face with a group of strangely dressed men who look eerily like the vikings she studies

Part one Part two Part three

Masterlist Here

Something your arrival seemed to have distracted from was the success of the latest raid. “You’ll love it,” Hvitserk told you over breakfast. He, you had soon noticed, was the only morning person of the bunch. Ivar looked even more homicidal while Sigurd was still too asleep to piss him off. Meanwhile Ubbe was still in bed, threatening to cut off whoever’s hand tried to wake him, “We pull out all the stops. Wines, mead, ale, -“

“Is anything not alcohol related?” you joked just as Bjorn walked in. You’d honestly expected him to have breakfast with his father, but Bjorn said nothing as he took a seat beside you. You knew he was tall but him sitting shoulder to shoulder with you made you realise just how not only tall, but wide he was. The man was built like a bear.

“Hello?” Hvitserk said, waving his hand in front of your eyes, “I swear none of you appreciate the morning,” he tutted.

“Die,” Ivar grunted, earning an agreement from Sigurd. You chuckled a little at seeing them finally on the same side.

Still, you shot Hvitserk an apologetic smile. “Sorry Hvitserk I just spaced out,”

“Spaced out?” He asked, even Bjorn looking down in confusion.

“Like got distracted?”

Hvitserk nodded in understanding, but Bjorn wasn’t satisfied, his head tilting even further in confusion. “Why do you say ‘like’ all the time? You always say like at the start of everything its strange,”

“I guess it’s like,” you said, pausing to chuckle at the accident though he didn’t laugh, “I don’t know it’s just how we talk where I’m from. Like how in every conversation someone threatens someone’s life here,” you said, finally earning a crack of a smile from him, “Where I’m from that would be the weird thing,”

“It’s not as if we mean it,” Hvitserk said.

“It’s brotherly love,” You turned to look at Ivar and Sigurd who both just kind of shrugs.

“It’s something all right,” Sigurd muttered. Ivar’s glare said enough on his behalf.

You ignored them both and turned back to Hvitserk with a laugh. After all they were brothers after all. It was all just talk. Surely. “So, if I go wake Ubbe up right now he won’t actually cut off my hand?” This time they all shared a concerned look. Okay maybe not.

“Take back up with you,” Ivar said. “Just encase,”

You sighed and rolled your eyes at the dramatics of all of them “Seriously? Right come on then,” you said, nodding your head at Ivar as you stood.

For a moment you actually saw a slight look of fear wash over his face, “But I’m still eating,” he tried to weasel his way out of it making Sigurd laugh. That was until you turned to him, hands on hip and his eyes suddenly dipped to the floor and the laughing stopped.

You threw your hands up, “He cannot be that bad!” you protested as you headed to Ubbe’s room.

As you headed for the door you heard someone’s chair scrape against the floor following you. You knocked on the door before quickly pushing it open, “Rise and shine sunshine- “

A loud groan came from the lump under the furs that was presumably the grumpy Ubbe everyone had warned you about. He quickly went to sit up and you jumped back when you saw the axe in his hand. Right back into what you soon realised was Bjorn’s chest.

Realization dawned over Ubbe’s face when he saw you, “Oh,” he said, dropping the axe onto the furs, “Sorry I didn’t realise it was you,” he mumbled, collapsing back into bed.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you mumbled, stepping away from Bjorn and hoping he didn’t see the blush covering your cheeks from the previous closeness. Then they went even redder when Ubbe sat up in bed and you realised he had nothing on. “I’m just gonna,” you span around, trying to leave, before almost smacking right back into Bjorn’s chest. You almost gulped before looking up at him, “Sorry,” you mumbled, rushing out past him, not noticing the smirk on Bjorn’s face or the way Ubbe laughed at your antics.

-

Ivar had finished eating by the time you’d returned, and you very quickly insisted on him showing you the market like he’d promised last night. He almost jumped at the chance and debated flinging his knife into Sigurd’s chest when he insisted on joining you both. However, you weren’t out for long before Aslaug sent a thrall to fetch you.

Aslaug had arranged for you to receive another dress for tonight’s festivities since “our guests represent our honour,” and you weren’t going to turn down the clean clothes.

The boys had gone out to do some training leaving you to get ready. You debated doing some makeup, you did have a couple items in your bag after all. “What is that?” Aslaug asked as she and a woman you recognised as Helga walked into the room. You’d been sat at a table in the middle of the house to utilise the little light inside and hadn’t heard them walk in, “Its eyeliner,” you said, showing them the black on your eyes, “Like how you use charcoal on yours,”

“Can I watch?” Helga asked, excitement written on her face as she sat across from you, “What’s this?” she asked, picking up the liquid blush, “It’s so bright!”

“It’s blush,” you laughed, “It’s for your cheeks,”

Aslaug sat next to her, eyeing over the cosmetics, “Like berries?”

“Kind of?” you said, gently taking it out of Helga’s hand so you could put it on to show them,

“See?” you asked patting it in, “Same sort of thing but this lasts a bit longer,”

“Can we try some?” Helga asked and even Aslaug looked interested at the idea. For the next while you helped them apply some moisturiser and blush to ease them into it. you were honestly scared to show them your eyeshadow pallet considering how Helga reacted to a pink blush.

then it was your turn. Apparently, the hair problem was long overdue. Helga was gentle when she brushed but you winced as Aslaug took over the intricate braids. “Do all girls fuss where you’re from?”

By the time she was done however you had to admit it looked beautiful. “You almost look like one of us,” there was almost fondness in Aslaug smile.

Helga looked up with a large grin, “You’ll get used to the pain. You looked wonderful though,”

-

Walking into the bustling hall by Aslaug’s side was both comforting and terrifying. On one hand it meant no one would question you but on the other, everyone was staring. When the boys finally returned Hvitserk was the first to greet you and you happily accepted the ale he offered.

You were sat at a table with the five of them, Hvitserk and Ivar on either side of you, and Bjorn, Ubbe, and Sigurd across from you. However, something the group were quickly realising was their tolerance to ale was far higher than yours. “Do you not drink where you’re from?” Ubbe teased as your cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

“We do! I swear I’m not a lightweight. This stuffs just strong!” you laughed.

Apparently, the laugh was infectious as soon they were all giggly. All but Bjorn but for once there was a permanent smile on his face, “What’s a lightweight?” Bjorn asked.

“Someone who can’t hold their alcohol,” you told him, very matter of factly making them all laugh at your drunken confidence, “You lot wouldn’t last one second on a night out at my campus. I’m talking tequila shots, body shots, Jello shots,” you began to drunkenly list off as the boys tilted their heads in amused confusion.

“What’s a shot?” Hvitserk asked making you face palm.

“Oh, I have so much to teach you,”

-

Unfortunately, while the boys were great company and had adjusted well to you being in their groups your presence seemed to disrupt everyone else. It was Hvitserk who first noticed everyone staring at you, but you were too tipsy too care. However, as Ivar and Ubbe drank more both began to glare at the men whose eyes stayed too long.

Despite all the boys warning you about Ivar’s temper they all seemed to ignore Ubbe’s even when he insisted on you all leaving because a drunken Viking tried to hit on you. You however were happy enough to follow them all the edge of the lake and sit on the cold sand with a flask of ale being passed around.

As you were all walking down to the lake Hvitserk, and Sigurd were in a heated debate over which slave girl was hotter while Ubbe carried a giggling Ivar on his back. somehow, you’d ended up at the back of the pack, stumbling down the hill beside Bjorn.

“Woah,” he gasped, grabbing your waist before you could stumble and fall over a tree branch. “Steady,”

“Careful Bjorn,” you grinned up at him, holding onto the arm he offered you so you wouldn’t risk falling again, “Someone might think we’re friends,” you teased.

A smirk quickly showed on his face, a teasing light in his eyes, “Oh? Are we not friends already? I am wounded,”

“Friends don’t try kill their friends,” you pouted but you weren’t able to keep the charade up for long before grinning again like a Cheshire cat.

Bjorn just rolled his eyes with a smile however, “We weren’t friends then. We are now,”

“So, you won’t try kill me again?”

Another eye roll, “I won’t try kill you, no,” he said, shaking his head as he helped you to where the rest of the group had begun to sit.

“Pinky promise?” you asked, pulling out of his grip and extending his arm.

His eyes narrowed, head tilting, “What’s a pinkie promise?”

“Its where,” you said, stepping closer to grab his hand, “You lock pinkies,” you said wrapping yours around his, not noticing the smile on his face, “And promise something. And if you break it, I get to break your pinkie,”

“So, an oath?”

“An oath with a threat,”

“Of breaking a finger?”

“Pinkie specifically but yes,” you grinned, “So do you promise?”

“I promise,”

“Good,” you grinned, pulling your pinkie away from his grip before turning to join the group. You plopped down on the ground next to Ivar who was staring off into the sea, “Hi,” you grinned.

Ivar turned to you, laughing when he saw the wide grin on your cheeks, “Hello,” you could hear a slight drunken slur in his words. “Want some?” he asked, passing you, his ale.

You gladly accepted it, taking a drink of the alcohol you first hated but soon grew to love, “Thanks. You’re always so sweet to me,” you smiled before taking a drink, missing the way Ivar’s cheeks went red at your sweet words. Sigurd however didn’t want you to miss it.

“Aww look at the cripple,” he teased making Ivar scowl, “He’s blushing like a baby,”

You passed Ivar his drink back, noticing how tense his jaw was and quickly checking to see how close he was to his axe. After all you didn’t need to be here when the fall out happened, “Why do you care so much Sigurd?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

Everyone’s eyes seemingly went wide, shocked that your bubbly attitude had so quickly dropped. “you don’t get it,” he tried to brush off, “you’re not from here,”

“Then explain it to me,” you said, sitting up straight, “Explain what’s so funny about Ivar’s legs. Ill wait,”

“Well its just,” he tried to stutter earning a snigger from Hvitserk, “I don’t know it just is. Why do you care?”

You were honestly a bit hurt by that, “because he’s, my friend?” you said it like a question because the answer seemed so obvious.

“Okay well I’m sorry,” Sigurd shrugged, his eyes focused on the ground.

Luckily the night quickly moved on from the brief ugly confrontation however Ivar couldn’t get the reaction out of his mind. He was so used to fighting his own battles that he never even expected someone else to back him up, let alone speak up before him. Despite his bruised ego Sigurd thankfully stayed civil for the rest of the night.

A few hours passed before you all decided to walk home. You were in a world of your own at this point, your eyes fixed on how bright the night sky was with stars with no city skyline or factory gases to ruin your view. You didn’t even notice the stares from the boys or hear Hvitserk and Ubbe talk about how you stood up to Sigurd. For the first time this week you didn’t have a care in the world.

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#vikings #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #vikings x you #ubbe x reader #ubbe #ubbe imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe ragnorsson x reader #sigurd ragnarsson #sigurd ragnorsson x reader #sigurd x reader #sigurd #sigurd snake eye x reader #hviserk #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #ivar x reader #ivar #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnorsson #ivar ragnarsson x reader

[bbkissme99]

Sukuna x reader

Welcome to the Neighborhood: you move in next door and sukuna, the single dad living next door, notices

SERIES: Dorm mate! Sukuna

high school au:

HIGH SCHOOL!SUKUNA x F!READER Bad Boy Sukuna

A better way to enjoy chocolate.

𝐌𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥🥀 || 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

college au:

college!sukuna x afab reader

ᰔ pairings… basketball captain!sukuna ryomen x student council president!reader series

College AU Sukuna

Sukuna is a lovesick mess who fucks things up on the first try because being open about his feelings is really not his strength but then makes up for it again.

Who would have thought that resident bad boy Sukuna would become your personal angel?

Roommate Sukuna

Yuji's older brother Sukuna

Gamer boyfie Kuna headcanons

Valentines day shenanigans

HATE THAT I LOVE YOU || mean!sukuna ryomen x fem!reader

Frat boy Sukuna

Yujis older brother au

bestfriendsbrother!Sukuna x pregnant!reader one-shot

Maki and Nobara were shooketh when they find out your relationship with someone's brother.

pining for his ripped older brother

ating your best friend’s sexy, “mysterious” older brother.

They kiss on the ring. I carry the crown.

criminal:

The boy in art gangster!Sukuna x reader

deadly attraction

Older brother sukuna and his younger brother yuuji who he begrudgingly takes care of by doing some shady shit.

ex prisoner sukuna

𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴

Mafia Boss Sukuna

Yakuza Husband ch4

Boyfriiiiiend

brushing away a strand of hair, cupping their face with both hands

modern boyfie Sukuna

oddly specific relationship hcs for sukuna (modern au)

Home from work. (Husband!Sukuna x fem!reader)

Established relationship, Nice!Sukuna

On halloween night with boyfriend Sukuna

boyfriend Sukuna who…

heavily tattooed boyfie

Maybe I Like you, Maybe I Don't

domestic au Sukuna headcanons

dating

Sukuna as your boyfriend [Soft Sukuna]

random sukuna boyfriend headcanons

Jujutsu Teacher Sukuna AU

Husband!Sukuna headcanons/drabbles

FIRST NIGHT

after your lectures, you decided to pay your tattoo artist boyfriend a little visit only to then be persuaded to let him draw a tattoo

Your First Time on Sukuna's Bike

Sukuna coming for Megumi's little sister at Shibuya pt. lll

Other au's

witch and knight au

Tribe leader/Viking Sukuna headcanons

youtuber Sukuna

husband sukuna x sorcerer reader

protective Sukuna after their sorcerer has been wounded

Sukunas Hand Mouth:

SUKUNA AND ITADORI ARE SHARING A S/O

Mouth

sukuna’s hand mouth expect its reader’s hand

being sukuna’s vessel

Being Sukuna's vessel isn't easy. Even less so if he's decided to take advantage of it - to his great pleasure and your humiliation.

being sukuna's vessel and having literally no choice but to let him play with your body

Sukuna having a female vessel, and sprouting different mouths to tease her

PUTTING HIS HAND UNDER YOUR SKIRT

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Every day I love more "sorry, but I think I lost your plot", I really enjoy reading updates <3

I wanted to know if Stoick will force Hiccup to have a talk about girls after all

Or hiccup overthinking about the attempt of kiss while our reader doesn't know how to continue in denial

Sorry for my bad english, I tried my best :(

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 22

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,846

Stoick ends up arguing with his son when all he wants to do is talk. Hiccup is mad.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Dragons: Defenders of Berk, Fright of Passage, post episode, Hiccup’s POV, Reader’s POV, unedited, half-fill

<Previous - Next>

“Son.”

The sounds of the chittering of bugs and animals and leaves were lighter by the village, much lighter than when he’d been walking in the woods with you.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there standing before he had been approached.

Knowing who it was was enough to immediately sour his mood.

Hiccup didn’t have to look over to tell who spoke, as his father was the only one with a presence large enough to sense from a mile away, at least when he was aware of it, and there was no one else with as heavy or confident a step on Berk.

“Dad?” Hiccup held in a deep sigh, looking crossly out over the village, purposefully not looking towards his feet, brows dropping into a furrowed line. He had the idea his Dad was looking out over Berk in the same way. He didn’t have to look.

He remembered a time they spent staring in a much similar way, out over the docks just before his Dad had gone after the nest and he’d gone and tamed Toothless.

“Where have you been?” Stoick asked gruffly, staring down at his son. 

He wished he had gone now and gone fast.

Hiccup shot a quick glare to his right, where his father stood, eyes making contact with his large, turquoise tunic, metal kilt and furred boots.

“Busy,” he said, after a long moment’s silence.

He still had blueprints laid out across his desk in the forge. He could have gone and tried to sleep in there, clinging onto the whisps of the nice evening you had had.

Hiccup was more a do-er than an organizer. He was having a hard time trying to figure out how to organize the pipes. If they ever clogged…The lower tunnels were prone to flash flooding when it rained.

Maybe he just needed to make more space, do some excavation, give the rainwater time to pool off. 

But he’d been spending a lot of time with his Dad recently.

He was still upset with his Dad, though he wasn’t sure the large man realized it.

He remembered Fireworm island, when his Dad had played pick-up, scrutinizing you the whole time in a way that made you so obviously uncomfortable. And he looked positively incensed as he did it.

He definitely remembered before that, when he’d gone asking you questions about responsibility and after when he and Hiccup had been eating dinner over the fire and his Dad had some questions to ask and words to say about you then.

He was going to chase you away before Hiccup could get a word out about how he really felt. That wasn’t funny or fond; he hadn’t been involved enough in Hiccup’s life to care, or to judge.

He shouldn’t judge you at all, anyhow. He didn’t know you; not at all.

Hiccup liked you a lot.

He didn’t want to rough you up like the other Vikings did to each other and he didn’t want his Dad sizing you up the whole time you were around as if you were the last, tiny piece of meat on a stick.

He didn’t want his Dad to waste your time when he wasn’t even sure if you liked him.

Hiccup grimaced.

Stoick looked down at his son, face impassive, though for him, impassive meant stormy, “You missed family dinner.”

A spear or, as it felt the most like -a jolt, a sudden itch of irritation made itself known, jabbing through his gut, to his heart.

He knew that.

He didn’t want to say anything, but the, “Yeah,” came unbidden.

He shifted, not really feeling the cold as anything more than a passing breeze. 

The fur lining the neck of his vest tickled his nape, the tufts that used to stand fluffy on top of it matted and uncomfortable. They didn’t bother him enough for him to replace it, yet.

“Hiccup,” His father said sternly, in a tone that made Hiccup rile, “From now on, I expect you to-”

“Well, unless you and Gobber start making out, I don’t think we’re much of a family,” Hiccup regretted it nearly the moment he said it, but he kept his jaw stubbornly set, glaring outwards, keeping his eyes painfully focused on a vague discolored roof. Was it painted? 

It was too dark to tell, all the houses the same shade of muddy blue in the dark.

It was times like these he wished he had a mother instead of a Dad.

He’d spent many nights eating dinner on his lonesome with no problem, and so had his Dad. And they’d both been fine.

Hiccup wished his Dad would leave so he had more time to ogle off into the village. Or that he would step away far enough for him to complain about his Dad to himself in relative silence.

“You like… the girl,” Stoick spoke again, finally, “Were you following her?”

Hiccup was reminded quickly of the talke they had at dinner before and wrinkled his nose, cheek twitching and he fought down a disgruntled glower.

“I can… I can help,” Stoick spoke again, resting his hand on Hiccup’s shoulder. Hiccup was hit with another spike of irritation at the idea. He didn’t want to admit it but he was sure his Dad knew, and he knew that Hiccup knew exactly what he was referring to, “But these things have always been… difficult.”

His Dad’s hand was meaty and thick, warm not in a comfortable way, but in a palm sweat sort of way, which he could feel even through his fur vest.

He might’ve felt proud another time, to have his father do something that would usually be symbolic of his pride, but.

He didn’t like it.

“Then don’t,” Hiccup snapped again, though his tone of voice was sort of questioning, which perhaps made it sound just a bit more snarky. Hiccup threw his arms wide as he spoke and then dropped them again, “I wasn’t following her and I’m fine on my own. I don’t want your help, if it means you’ll just be glaring at her the whole time.”

He was sure that really didn’t win him -Hiccup or Stoick- any brownie points. It definitely didn’t win his Dad any with Hiccup, not that that mattered. 

He wasn’t sure exactly why his Dad was doing this; there really didn’t seem to be a point. What was there for him to vet?

His Dad sighed heavily, “You’re not… friends?”

Hiccup looked down, straining and grabbed his collar to look on the part of his shirt on the inside by his beck.

There it was.

There was a bead half hidden under his collar where the twine keeping his collar closed looped into one of the few purposeful holes in his tunic, the string emerging facing outwards, towards the world, on the other side.

The wooden one.

It pressed against his collarbone uncomfortably, pressed gently closer to his chest by the fabric, but he didn’t care.

He let go of his collar frustratedly and he tried to come up with an answer for his Dad.

“We’ve been friends. Acquaintances, ” Hiccup insisted, clenching his jaw a bit harder than he perhaps had to afterwards.

The tension between the two was palpable, and like a clogged pipe, and as it usually did, Hiccup was certain it was bound to explode soon.

He wished his Dad would get the message, the hair on the back of his neck standing up, the same way he was sure Toothless’ would when he was frustrated if he had any.

Just as Hiccup expected things to hit a mild and subtle crescendo and as he expected to meet face to face with the mildest version of his father’s temper, Stoick spoke again.

“...I’m sorry.”

Hiccup was startled, “What?”

His father wasn’t one for apologies. Even after he’d tamed Toothless, he’d never gotten an apology. No, just an ‘I’m proud,’ though for him, that was all they needed.

Stoick sighed exhaustively, then spoke gruffly, yet slowly as if choosing his words with caution, the same way he did during a dispute with the other villagers, instead of in the commanding way he spoke to Hiccup,  “I’m… I apologize. For how I behaved, earlier.”

Like most things, all the other words that needed passing between them went unsaid, but as it went since the Red Death, Hiccup got the message anyways.

His Dad started listening instead of standing immovably, commanding Hiccup more than he ever opened his ears, which was never. For the most part.

But, something tickled at the back of his mind, and with exhaustive clarity, he came to a sort of realization.

The way he said it, it kind of reminded him of the few times he’d let Gobber coach him on what to say, and the few times he’d let Gobber reenact his ideal family make-up scenario; Which, of course, Hiccup himself had never put much stock in.

Hiccup remembered all the times he’d taken advice from his mentor; when he was a kid, putting eggs in his shoes to deter trolls, Gobber telling him to drop his socks in the forge furnace because they’d be fine, just cleaner after; using Yak for everything…. Hiccup was pretty sure the whole yak thing was a hoax.

“It’s alright, Dad,” Hiccup said reluctantly though not without honesty. He was still too sour to apologize, which was one thing he and his Dad usually had in common, at least when it came to each other. 

He had no idea how it started, but they were both equally as stubborn, and he had a hard time feeling sorry right then, anyways.

Flirting, dating advice form Gobber when he was still into Astrid, which never worked, friend-making advice, dad-talking-to advice, which seemed to be the only kind of advice Hiccup could take from him without it blowing up in his face, not that he’d ever actually tried it yet. 

It was just the principle of it; things usually ended up going wrong anyways the moment Gobber opened his mouth, something Hiccup seemed to pick up from him just the same.

This had Gobber written all over it. And Hiccup was sour at the fact that it was beginning to work.

“Still,” Hiccup said, slouching and grumbling petulantly, though he was slightly pleased at being on the other end of thai conversation for once, “...You should stop taking advice from Gobber.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to keep your legs from giving out.

You propped yourself against the cool side of another hut, deep in Berk’s village, trying to keep quiet in case there were any Vikings inside sleeping, as if you were trying to creep around a set of thin tripwires.

Your hands were shaking as you went over the events of the last few hours in your mind as you stumbled through the village, face heated.

The vial, you pulled gently from your waist wrappings. It was glowing slightly where some of the water had soaked into the cork stopper

#httyd #how to train your dragon #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #fem reader #female reader

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

So I’m interested in the thing you taught about Anglo-Saxons pushing the celts out of land- do you know how far north they pushed?

I’m Scots, and I have an interest in our history, but to be honest almost all of my knowledge of it comes from post-1000, with the exception of a few local myths about Viking raiders being scared off by a mother wolf.

So I’d love to ask what you know- and I’ll just say that, because you talk about the welsh language a lot, I would be interested in what you think of the work to revive Gaelic as a primary language of this country- my Nans all for it, but most other people think it’s not working the way it has in wales because Gaelic was never spoken across the country Welsh was- my mums family is from old Norse speaking ancestry/cities and the local area was more likely to speak French than Gaelic (my dads English with a clan surname so some Highland Clearance stuff definitely happened and also for about 50 years round about bonnie prince Charlie that name was banned/got you shot so some *shit* presumably happened)

In terms of how far they pushed, this is the map of the Heptarchy, i.e. their furthest extent:

So a bit of the Scottish south east. You see Strathclyde on there? That was the Brythonic part! This is why Glasgow is a Welsh name in origin. Cousins!

In terms of Gàidhlig revival (I'm not correcting you with the spelling, I just have friends who speak it and that's their preference lol), it's certainly a lot more complicated than it is in Wales, for numerous reasons. One is admittedly that Scotland has always been inherently multicultural - even before the Anglo-Saxons, the north was Pictish, the west was Goidelic (Dal Riada spanned west Scotland and modern northern Ireland), the south was Brythonic, and the islands have long been a spirited mix of Norse and Other. Each of those spoke their own language. Then came the Heptarchy, which birthed Scots, and then the Vikings in earnest... By contrast, Wales just spoke Welsh. Different dialects, sure, and infusions from elsewhere, but country-wide, we just had the one thing.

And then there's the sheer weight of numbers. The current percentage of the population that speaks Gàidhlig is, to my knowledge, less than two percent, which is an incredibly challenging position to be in. By contrast, the lowest Welsh ever slid to was seventeen percent, back in the Eighties, and today it's about thirty. That's much easier to pull off.

I should clarify here, of course, that I am not about to speak on behalf of Scottish people. Whether Gàidhlig is representative, whether it SHOULD be revived, those are ultimately debates for Scots to have, I'm nobody. But since you asked directly I can share my very Welsh-influenced perspective.

Firstly, any country-wide bilingualism is unilaterally a good thing. Without exception. Every country in the world should be aiming for it with *something*, regardless of what it is. There is no harm from raising a bilingual child. It's literally good for the brain.

Secondly, any language at all is a beautiful, unique thing that acts as a memory crystal for the culture and philosophy attached to it. If you lose one, you lose something important that can't be replaced. Here's an example! Translating between Korean and English pronouns is often a challenge, because Korean doesn't have the gender markers that English needs, but English doesn't have the age/social status markers that Korean needs. That tells you something fascinating about both of those cultures, and the philosophy and worldview they hold. Gàidhlig is not yet dead. There is time to save it. It is unique; it's a repository for so much of an older Scottish culture that otherwise might be lost. Why not save it?

Thirdly, why place the pressure on it to be a language spoken by all of Scotland? Does it need to be? Because there wasn't a pan-Scottish language, not until English, and that one was spread through imperialism. You won't find an alternative that was spoken by everyone. Does that mean you shouldn't bother with any of them? Well; see point one. But also...

If the issue is a lack of 'identity' - this was not spoken in my area, so I don't identify with it - it was still nonetheless a Scottish language. It's still unique and endemic to the country you now identify with. It's therefore still yours. And what's preventing someone learning something appropriately local as well? Fuck it, if you're from the south, learn Welsh. Pictish was lost - it can't be saved anymore. But it looks like it was Brythonic, so again, there's always Welsh as the closest analogue. But Gàidhlig is still Scottish, unique to the country, whereas Welsh is more pan-British.

So yeah, those are my very rambly thoughts that I have not actually pondered deeply at all. I shall now bow out of that particular conversation and leave it to the Scots

#asks #history nerdery #linguistics

[abeautifulblog]

Hi! You said you could help talk me through feudal worldbuilding, and I’d love to pick your brain!

Absolutely! Probably easiest to hit me up over discord (I'm _gremble) and then I would be happy to talk your ear off. 🤣 My wheelhouse is very narrowly focused on mid 9th century England (re: what Anglo Saxon society/military/governance looked like when the vikings rolled up), and iirc, some of the features you mentioned being interested in are more the product of later medieval political structures. I cannot help you with those, but I can probably help with some of the overall mental shifts, because a lot of the things we take for granted in the modern era were just............ not the way things worked back then.

In particular, the word "general" in your initial ask jumped out at me, because it brought up one of the exact issues that I'd run into. The character I was working with had been presented in canon as "the king's top general" -- not those words, but definitely those vibes -- that he was The Guy In Charge Of The Army. Except as soon as I started researching military structures in that period, I found out that that's not how armies worked. When the king needed to go to war, he would call on all his top landholding nobles to round up a bunch of their dudes -- which would be a large number of armed peasants, and a smaller number of fulltime warriors -- and bring their portion of the army to bear.

But these various segments of the army remained under the command of their various lords, marching under separate banners. The lords, in essence, were the generals -- there's not one guy commanding the entire army as a single unit (except for the king, sort of), and there's certainly not any non-noble who doesn't own any dudes getting to call the shots and dictate strategy. Talented and successful warriors might well get rewarded for their service, and given land grants that would generate tons of money for them and put a large number of conscriptable peasants under their control -- and might have the ear of the king if they're known to be good at tactics -- but they don't have authority over anyone else's forces.

The politically neutral, career military guy that we think of when we hear the word "general," who has no independent power of his own but receives a paycheck from his higher-ups to command their men for them, didn't exist yet.

It's a bit of a paradigm shift, because we're used to the military as something separate, that's subordinate to civilian leadership and works in service to it, not for those to be one and the same. We're also used to a norm of strong nation-states with one centralized army, which was very much not the case throughout feudalism/manorialism -- at least in the Anglo Saxon period, power was decentralized and delegated, and being king involved a lot of herding cats wrangling your nobles, not exercising direct control. The king was the guy who could get the most other guys to back him up.

(In the same vein, early kingdoms also tended to be a patchwork of other, smaller kingdoms that retained a great deal of their own autonomy and identity. The modern nation-state that we're so used to, with a single national identity, is an astonishingly recent invention.)

Anyway, hands-down the most useful and eye-opening book I've read on the subject is Clifford J. Rogers' Soldiers Lives Throughout History: The Middle Ages. It's like $80 to buy (😭) but the pdf is on Anna's Archive, and it's invaluable. It is, essentially, a social history of medieval warfare -- most military histories focus on the politics of a particular conflict, or the technology and tactics involved, but this book is all about what life on the ground looked like. A+++ resource for anyone writing war and military logistics in a medieval (or medieval-flavored) setting.

#gremble participates in infodump matchmaking #I can infodump about 9th century Mercia #and vikings #apologies to any actual historians if I overgeneralized/oversimplified 😅

[artificial-transmutations]

Max' Journey - Roaring

This was the first time that Max appeared inside a building, apparently some kind of apartment. It didn't look like anybody was home, so Max had the time to take in his new surroundings. First, himself. The bathroom even had a mirror, so this was a good opportunity to check his face.

As expected, Max was naked again - except for Thjodolf's necklace - and, luckily, all the dirt and blood from the battlefield had disappeared along with his clothes and his wounds. His body had shifted subtly again, showing signs of his previous French persona, but Max was still able to recognize himself in the reflection.

Even though he didn't have any wounds on his body, the battle of Waterloo still left its marks on Max, both mentally and physically. He was feeling extremely tired, and without thinking too much about the owner of the apartment returning, Max postponed further explorations and fell into bed, drifting off to sleep immediately.

The next morning, he woke up feeling refreshed and energetic, albeit a bit hungry, ready to explore his new environment. There was still nobody in the apartment except him, so he walked around the apartment first. It was obviously post-industrialization, Max decided. There was running water and electric light, although the light bulbs looked flimsy and old-fashioned.

When he looked out of the window, he saw cars, the early models, driving in the streets, and lots of people and buildings. He was obviously in a big city and the time was at least somewhat modern, even though it was still in his personal past.

The more Max searched the apartment, more he concluded that whoever owned it had not been here for some months now. It was even possible that whoever used to live here was no longer around - at least the clothing he found was that of an old man. To his delight, he even found a small cache of money (American dollars, as he noticed) and a key to the apartment in a box.

Although Max didn't feel all too comfortable wearing a possibly deceased man's clothing, he got dressed, took the money and the key and left the apartment. Although he was really hungry, the first thing Max bought was a newspaper. After looking at the date, Max exhaled in relief. He was in 1927 New York. Even though he really had a bad historical knowledge, he knew that it was still some years until World War two. Having seen the technology level, there had been a rising fear in Max that he had just been kicked into the next big battle.

1927... What did he know about the twenties...? Nothing much, actually. He had heard stories about prohibition and Al Capone, but those were probably exaggerated or even fictionalized.

While Max enjoyed the hot meal "his" money had bought him, he thought about his situation. If he was right about the apartment being empty, he was in luck this time. He had a place to stay and some money to spend until the next portal took him away. He didn't really know how long that would take, though. In France, it had been several months, in the Viking age a few weeks. It could be totally random, or the periods of time could be increasing. If the latter was the case, or even if it took several months like in France, then the money he had would be not enough by a long shot, even if he saved it the best he could. Max reckoned that it would be more difficult to live a vagrant's life than it had been in France. So, if he wanted to stay here, he needed a job.

Then, he wanted to find out more about his circumstances. There were a lot of open questions he never really had time to think about. What was the nature of these portals? Why did the last one look so unsteady? Why was his body constantly changing? What was that magic potion that apparently gave him some (very limited) fighting superpower? And most importantly: How could he go home?

Max spent the rest of the day walking through the city and taking in everything he could see. The city was huge and filled with people, cars and lights. He felt overwhelmed at first, but after a few days, he started to get used to it. At least the stories about prohibition were not exaggerated though - there was no alcohol to buy anywhere, which was a shame, he thought. He really could have used something to distract him.

As long as he got new input, it was fine. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw images of bloodied French soldiers, of young Rémy, whose one eye had been reduced to a bloody mess. Every time it was silent, he heard the screams, the bangs of musket fire, the gurgling sound of people drowning in their own blood. He even remembered the horns of the Viking raiders and the screams of the Roman slaves. Max tossed and turned in his sleep, dreaming of the battles and the death and of the sad face of Thjodolf when he had to leave. Often, when he woke up, he couldn't remember where he was or if all of that really happened, and it took him some time to readjust. In other nights, he found no sleep altogether, or woke up screaming or crying.

As his money was slowly running out, he couldn't postpone finding a job any longer. He had avoided thinking about that until now and while there were a lot of job offerings in the newspaper, nothing really caught his eye. He was sitting in his apartment, listening to the radio, when it finally hit him. Radio. He had a vast knowledge of electrical engineering, much more than most professors in this time knew. With the tools available, he could probably make a lot of great inventions before they were due originally.

But he stopped himself, that would be a really bad idea, right? His goal was still to come home, but if he changed history significantly, there would be no home to return to, it would have all changed. Max quickly recollected his journey so far. No, he didn't make a big difference anywhere. There were a few more dead Prussian soldiers, but Napoleon still lost the battle of Waterloo. The other times he had been to made no difference either. So, he should try to stay low in this time period as well, in order not to change anything. Still, his knowledge in electrical engineering could still be useful.

It was harder than he thought to find a job without references, but luckily, the demand was high. So, finally, he managed to get a job at the Radio Corporation of America and earned real money. Since he did not have to pay rent and the pay was quite high giving his advanced skills, Max quickly had enough money to buy himself new clothes and food and even some pocket money for the subway.

The work was interesting too. While Max worked on improving their radios, he learned a lot about the technology level of the time. It seemed that electricity was already widely used and known in the twenties, but, of course, there were no semiconductors. While Max understood the physics behind them, he had no way of manufacturing semiconductors which severely limited if not diminished any chance he might have had understanding or researching the portal phenomena.

Max tried to keep his head down, working hard and being nice to everybody so nobody noticed anything strange about him. The constant torment in his head did not get better though, and even though he had his work to distract him during the day, the nights were still awful. He also kept low regarding his sexuality, since he had a pretty good idea that it would do him no good to be known as gay. Damn those cave man urges, Max found himself thinking. In his normal live, he had been almost asexual, and now he longed for human touch so much it was almost unbearable at times.

Apparently, he was not very good at hiding how miserable he felt, because one day, a coworker came to him during the break and secretly handed him a piece of paper with an address, telling him it was a place that would help him feel better.

What Max found when he went there this evening was a hidden bar full of people, drinking alcohol and listening to jazz. There was a word for that, Max remembered. Right, "speakeasy". Max didn't mind at all. He needed to drown out his thoughts, even if it was just for one night, so he immediately got into it, started socializing and drinking. It helped somewhat, but only a little bit.

After several hours of drinking and dancing, Max stumbled back home. The remainder of the night was a bit quieter than usual, so, the next day, Max returned to the speakeasy, and the day after that as well. It became a regular thing for Max getting drunk and partying on most nights. He was trying to forget everything by drowning himself in booze and music. He learned that this was not the only speakeasy in Manhattan by far. There were other bars or clubs well hidden from the police and Max started exploring them all.

After about a month of living in New York, he stumbled across a hidden club, the "Lavender Lounge", that appeared to promote a wide variety of sexual interests, including drag shows. Although it was still considered taboo on the streets, here, Max could finally live out his sexuality.

He returned to the Lavender Lounge almost every night now. He was regularly getting drunk there, enjoyed the shows and, of course, had sex with a wide variety of men, who came there. Since Max had the money to dress well and give generous tips, he quickly became a regular in the club.

Although rather subtly, his body shifted to accommodate his new role. His skin became smooth, his teeth white and his charisma increased. His mind adjusted as well: He found himself talking to others more easily and adopted a more outgoing personality. He sailed the waters of social interaction smoothly and got along fine with everyone.

Sadly, be it from constant training or from his adjusting body, the amount of alcohol he had to drink to keep his mind in check was increasing continuously. It didn't give him the warm embrace of forgetting so easily anymore, and he started having those haunting dreams again more frequently.

So, he turned to harder drugs. It was actually surprising what was already available in the 1920s. Max started with marijuana but quickly discovered there was more. Cocaine, heroin and opium - Max quickly became addicted to the substances, a price he gladly paid to get away from his traumatic memories. At least they gave him some relief from the pain.

Naturally, his work performance dropped significantly. Some days, he didn't even show up for work anymore, so in the fall, he was fired unceremoniously from his job at the RCA. He still had some money left and didn't do anything now then visit the Lavender Lounge. He often forgot to eat, just looking forward to his next kick these days, which made his lean muscles melt away. His body was also reacting to this new chapter in Max life, leaving him a miserable shadow of himself over the course of the next weeks. He started to smell bad, since he had stopped bathing altogether and more and more of his acquaintances from the clubs turned away from him.

His money reserves melted away as quickly as his health. He managed to get by for some more weeks by selling the apartment and living on the street, but finally, his last dollar had been spent on one final dose of opium.

When he tried to beg and even shout, he was quickly complimented out of the Lavender Lounge, after being told not to return again. There he was now. On the streets, alone and cold, hungry and desperate. And without any money. The only thing he had left to sell would be Thjodolf’s necklace. It wouldn't give him much money, but perhaps enough for a small bit of food. However, the thought alone of giving away his last memento of those happy days brought tears to his eyes. No, he couldn't do that. Max wandered around aimlessly for a few hours, crying his eyes out in self-pity.

It was way after midnight when his tears finally dried up and made way to a rare moment of grim clarity. He was really at rock bottom. He had nothing but a major drug addiction and the clothes on his back. Ever since he found that device in the archive cellar, he had totally lost control over his life, with an unknown force just tossing him around history like a tennis ball, from one catastrophe to the next.

This had to stop. He needed to take control again. Did he believe in fate? Could you escape fate? He shook his head, with a grim determination. These were not the right questions.

The right question was: Can fate escape me?

Max made a fist. He was beaten badly, but not broken. He would never give away control of his life again like that, giving in to drugs and parties. It would be a lot of work, but Max was determined to climb out of this hole again.

The night lit up, as, finally, the exit portal opened. Max had almost laughed out loudly. He had waited for the damn thing for months now, and now that he had lost everything, it just showed up?

Something was definitely wrong with it, though. The swirling yellow energy fluctuated wildly, and the light flickered irregularly. From time to time, an electric discharge hit the wet road. It looked particularly unsafe, and Max wondered if this would be the last portal he could step through, at least if this deterioration kept increasing. However, Max felt empowered. He had a choice. He could take the portal, or he could stay. And it was his decision this time, to step into the flickering lights.

It's a roller coaster with Max. I just hope this ends well! If you need to remember how his journey started, you can do so here. Or you can read the last episode here. The next part is available here.

#male transformation #time travel #Max Journey #1920s #empowerment

[myrddin-wylt]

Still on England and Denmark, how do they interact? Is there any resentment? Sexual tension? 👀 It feels like Denmark has inspired England a lot, but England would never admit it.

IT'S BEEN OVER A MONTH SINCE I GOT THIS ASK AAAAAAH

(character guide: Arthur = England; Mathias= Denmark)

But I’m always on England and Denmark lol, though I apologize for how long it’s taken me to get to this ask. And it depends on the era! They have a pretty long history, even if the most direct interaction was during the Viking Era, but they still interacted afterwards as well, too. Of course, their dynamic during the Viking Age and after it is very, very different, especially in the Early Modern Period (c. 1500-1700 AD) as England emerges as a major power in Europe and then the world while Denmark... does the opposite.

History really flips their dynamic on its head: at the start of the Viking Age, the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms were weak and not even unified, and made for easy targets to raid and invade; Arthur, I think, was pretty timid and averse to conflict and would flee instead of fight if he had the chance. Denmark, though it didn’t unify until about the same time as England, centralized power and started colonizing very, very quickly, and the early Danish kings were certainly nothing to fuck with. After all, they did successfully conquer England a few times, even if it didn’t end up sticking for as long as Denmark-Norway.

Imo the Early Modern Period is where things got really flipped upside-down, as Denmark-Norway pretty much lost their shot at becoming a major power when Sweden ran off with a third of Denmark-Norway’s territory in 1658 (I think Himaruya did a comic about this, actually? You know, the ‘March Across the Belts,’ where the Swedes just... walked across the frozen sea and proceeded to fuck shit up for Denmark? That.) Meanwhile, across the North Sea, England - despite more than a century of war with the French, many, many civil wars, a public regicide, and a brief stint as a republic that did not go well - is one of the most important powers in Europe and somehow only getting more and more powerful. And that trend only continues until the Danes lose their empire completely and the Brits establish the largest empire in human history.

So as far as resentment, I think it’s a mixed bag; Arthur is, frankly, way too fucked up in that regard. If anything, he’s grateful because he thinks the Viking Invasions toughened him up and prepared him to handle survival under the Normans. The Viking Invasions and Norman Invasion were very transformative for him, and my headcanon is that they’re the reason Arthur is so Like That - ie is so dedicated to the idea that might makes right, only the strong survive, and all that social Darwinist (in a general sense of the term) stuff. So Arthur thinks he has nothing to resent Mathias for in the first place.

Mathias... does not feel the same way, especially as time goes on. For one thing, there’s a period of time in the Middle Ages where Mathias resents that England never returned to a union with Denmark and Norway to form the North Sea Empire again; fun historical fact, the Danes continued to try to conquer England even after William of Normandy took over in 1066, and the Danes repeatedly revived their claim on England as late as the 1200s. Given that the invasions started in the 800s, that’s nearly four centuries of Mathias trying very hard to unify Denmark and England. I don’t think Mathias aims that resentment at Arthur, per se, but just in general at how events turned out. And by the time he starts getting over that, he starts to resent how powerful Arthur becomes and how he’s basically living out Mathias’s dreams. Maybe that goes away in the 1700s, idk, but it is worth mentioning that Britain and Denmark had several alliances throughout the 18th century, which ultimately ended in 1772 with a (very scandalous) Royal Divorce that really hurt relations between Britain and Denmark for awhile, especially because the Danes were willing to let the whole thing go and the Brits decided that no, actually, they had to make it a big deal and break off the alliance. So that was a sore spot. (Went very poorly for the Brits in the end though lol, since it meant they didn’t have the Danes to back them up when the Americans started the revolution.) And then there was the two separate battles of Copenhagen in 1801 and 1807, the latter of which really ruined Anglo-Danish relations for awhile because not only were both attacks by the Brits unprovoked, but the 1807 battle ended with the Brits confiscating the entire Danish-Norwegian navy. SO THEY WERE MAD ABOUT THAT for awhile. I think Mathias got over it by 1900, but for awhile there was some serious bad blood between them.

As far as sexual tension, well, imo they’re well past that - I actually headcanon them as being each other’s firsts, to line up with the Danelaw and North Sea Empire. They probably get together periodically after that, especially when they have alliances with each other, but I wouldn’t call that sexual tension so much as straightforward booty calls lol. Makes for a few very awkward morning-afters when Alfred is still living with Arthur.

I think Arthur would actually admit pretty freely the impact Mathias and the Danes had on him - after all, Beowulf, the oldest work of English literature and the national pride of England, explicitly takes place in Denmark. And I think Arthur would happily credit Mathias with a lot of inspiration in general - I just don’t think Mathias enjoys being credited with toughening him up. If anything, I think Mathias feels somewhat guilty about the whole thing, even if - especially since Arthur doesn’t hate him for it. Like damn dude, you really fucked him up.

#ask #anon #hetalia hc #hetalia headcanon #hetalia headcanons #hetalia hcs #hws england #hws denmark #historical hetalia #deneng #north sea lovers

[istorkyou]

Linger (A Modern!Ivar AU)

Warnings - Angst

Word Count - 1103

Synopsis - A little one shot, dipping my toe back in to writing. 

Inspiration - This beautiful song 'Linger' by The Cranberries.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0gEyKnHvgkrkBM6fbeHdwK?si=9wUWJC_ISY2VugNSIKilgA

Shout Outs - To my day one, you know who you are.

Tag List - Let me know if you want on or off :)@smears-and-spots @punkrocknpearls​​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @momowhoo​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog​ @ivar-s-my-brat-tamer​ @pieces-by-me​ @heavenly1927​​ @berryonasummerevening @synnersaint​​ @out-of-the-box-and-into-alchemy​ @petite-hime​​ @serasvictoria​​ @mimiiinspace​​ @itsmysticalmystery​​ @lonewolf471​​ @mylifeisactuallyamess​​ @draculasbride-blog​​ @love-all-things-writing​​ @southernbe​​ @redhead7799​​ @kaybee87​​ @ivarlover​​ @ivarhoegh​​ @idgafiamallthefandoms​​ @darkphoenix5037​​ @profoundtyrantharmony​​ @snarling-through-our-smiles​​ @crazyunsexycool​​ @xceafh​​ ​@noway4u @batmandallyboy​​ @complicatedbutrare @readsalot73​​​​ @meandmycherrytree

She’s chosen the venue, the night. Open mic. Ivar scoffs at it but settles into his seat with her before she goes to the bar and gets him his preferred beer.

He watches her at the bar and lets out a small sigh of discontent.

Forty-five minutes of mediocre singing and boring conversation passes before something hits him.

A familiar melody, guitar based that makes something in his brain fizz. He’s heard the song before. A beautiful hum fills the air.

“If you, if you could return, don’t let it burn, don’t let it fade..”

Ivar’s ears prick up before his consciousness allows him to realise the beautiful, ethereal voice emanating from the stage is hers.

“I’m sure I’m not being rude, but it’s just your attitude..”

It’s her. She’s singing the song that is theirs, not “theirs” theirs but a song they both know well enough, more than fitting to their situation.

“It’s tearing me apart..”

He turns slowly to see her on stage, guitar in hand, face etched with sorrow.

“..it’s ruining everything.”

Her curly hair is framing her face as she recites the words that sum up the end of their time together perfectly. His heart clenches when he thinks of the word end.

“And I swore, swore I would be true, and honey so did you..”

His gut drops as he watches her spill out all their dirty, heart wrenching laundry to all the people packed in the room with them. The shame of his actions colours his face. She must be doing it to hurt him, he’s sure of it. But as stares at her, he realises she is totally oblivious to his presence in the audience.

“So why were you holding her hand? Is that the way we stand?..”

He glances at the woman he is here with: the woman he broke her trust with, the woman who turned his head away from his love. He’s making it work with the woman at the table, his pride won’t allow him to admit publicly that he fucked up. He knows that she’s got nothing on the woman sitting on the stage who is crushing his heart with these lyrics.

When his gaze drags back to the stage the singer is staring at him and his heart stops beating. It’s the first time he’s looked into her eyes for weeks.

..”were you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you?..” she raises her eyebrow in question.

She closes her eyes, shutting Ivar out, and not for the first time. She’d closed her eyes and held her hand up to his face, silencing his bullshit, lame excuses when she’d seen them together.

The end.

..”but I’m in so deep. You know I’m such a fool for you..”

The singer meets his eyes again and the world stops for him, the agony of his actions radiating out of her, flowing over the crowd, a tsunami of emotion.

..”you got me wrapped around your finger. Do you have to let it linger, do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?”

“Oh I thought the world of you. I thought nothing could go wrong, but I was wrong, I was wrong…”

He is enraptured by her. The spotlights shining through her thick curly hair is making her look like she’s bathed in the flames of a fire. He barely hears the rest of the song, he just stares at her singing and playing guitar. Happy memories of them racing through his head with each line she sings, then the deep regret he feels lodges in his chest as he listens to the pain he inflicted on her flooding the packed bar.

He notices that she isn’t wearing the necklace anymore, she’s certainly not wearing the ring. He feels his nose fizz as he fights back the tears prickling his eyes.

The singer closes her eyes again and strums her final note.

A moment of silence passes before applause sets the room alight. The singer doesn’t move for a beat and when she does she doesn’t acknowledge the crowd cheering for her rendition, her beautiful voice.

She walks backstage breathing heavily. He’s in the crowd, she saw him before she went out on stage and almost turned to leave, but she didn’t, she just quickly changed her song choice.

“Girl, do you see who is out there?” A friend says eyeing the crowd, running a comforting hand up her arm.

“I don’t see anyone I know,” she replies coldly before walking out confidently, refusing to let him take up anymore of her headspace.

The blond haired woman at his table, so much different from her curly dark hair, touches Ivar’s arm, pulling him out of his almost hypnotic state. “Ivar, are you good?” she asks quizzically, a nasty smile playing on her lips.

“You knew she would be here? Why did you do this?” Ivar barely contains his rising temper. She did this to twist the knife.

He shakes her hand off his arm before grabbing his crutch and making his way to the door.

She has her hood up as she walks from the venue side-door, but the guitar on her back gives her away.

“Hey!” Ivar shouts and hurries to the singer. “Hey! Let me talk to you!”

The singer's steps falter and she turns slowly to face him.

“Hello, love.” Ivar says softly, his voice full of sadness.

She says nothing.

“You were brilliant up there. Your voice…” He tries to find adequate words but his vocabulary fails him. It always does. She pushes her hood down to reveal her curly hair, blond streaks adorn it now, shorter, not the hair he knew.

She just stares at him as if there’s no recognition at all. She’s not the same woman he knew.

“That song, love. You knew I was here?” Ivar asks tentatively.

The singer finally answers: “I didn’t.” She gives him a nonchalant shrug and nothing more.

The stare she gives him is hard, so hostile that he steps back slightly. “The lyrics..” He glances at his feet then back to her. “The lyrics were for us? For me, I mean, for what I did?”

“Nothing I do is for you anymore, Ivar.” She spins on her heels and walks away.

He can do nothing but watch her leave him. Again.

“I’m so sorry. Please!” he shouts loudly, unashamedly begging for a few more seconds of her time.

Her steps don’t falter this time, she carries on walking away from him.

As she did that day.

As she always will.

#modern ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #modern vikings #vikings au #vikings modern au #ivar fanfic #modern!au #vikings #the cranberries

[jadelynlace]

Ivar & Children Part III ⎮Ink Drinker Modern Vikings AU One-Shot [Ivar x F!Reader]

find the series masterpost here.

author’s note: much like what this holiday represents, we’re having the re-birth of Ink Drinker. yes, that sounded much better in my head. 

content warnings: medical jargon, children getting hurt, Ivar and children

word count: 1000+ words

You recognize the address as soon as the report sings from the radio. Despite the nature of the call, you’re worried it’s actually Floki who has injured himself and not his son—and in the confusion the child called for the emergency response. 

When you step into Floki’s home, Hvitserk is right on your six and you’re scanning for evidence of trauma that doesn’t seem to exist. Instead, Helga’s holding their youngest son, Apollo who has just reached his second birthday last week—your mind recalls the quick image of Ivar dancing with him to celebrate before he blows out his birthday candles. Apollo shirt was torn off in a rush and his chest is red—ruby red and you already know.

“I didn’t know he could reach the counter,” Helga nearly cries softly. “Next thing I knew he was wearing my tea,” She adds. “The pediatrician—”

“She told us to take him to the emergency room,” Floki says for her. “I knew this would be faster once I realized who was at work today,” He finishes, winking at you. 

Apollo screams when your chief attempts to take a closer look at the burn.

“Let me try—coordinate with medical control, you know what’s going to happen,” You say.

“When did you become my boss?” He teases.

“When you hired me,” You joke back. “Apollo—it’s me, baby,” You say softly while you pull your mask down. “It’s Miss Y/N,” And the familiar voice calls the boy to calm slightly in your presence. “We’re just going to take a look at you tummy, Mommy and Daddy aren’t going anywhere, alright?”

“Floki, can you pack up some of his things?” Hvitserk asks. “I’ll pull vitals,”

“Do a manual heart rate,” You start, “On his back, there’s no room for it on his chest it’s too burnt—he’s not allergic to anything that you know of, Helga?” You ask and she nods. 

“This is going to give your arm a real tight hug, alright?” Hvitserk says as he attaches the pediatric cuff. “Do you want to try to squeeze my hand just as hard? He then offers, holding up a gloved hand. Apollo reaches out quickly, grabbing the first two fingers and barrels down, despite the soft grip Hvitserk lets out a huff of improvised impression. “You’re a strong little man!”

“Breathing rate is high,” You mumble.

“Mine would be too!” Hvitserk says, “It’s scary when you hurt yourself. We have 110 on 72,”

“Little high, too,” You say. “Can you walk me through what happened, Helga?”

“I had my back turned just to grab the sugar—I didn’t even know he was able to reach that high and I had just taken the kettle off and poured a cup…next thing I knew he started screaming and I—I took his shirt right off,”

“He didn’t lose consciousness?”

“No, he just started screaming,”

“Nothing in his diaper?”

“No, that was the first place I looked too—it just got on his chest and on his one wrist—oh sweetheart I’m so sorry I should have known better—”

“Helga these things happen to all parents, this is how we learn,” Hvitserk says.

“Helga,” You start, “There’s not much we’re going to be able to do from our end. We can give him pain medication but he’s going to have to be air lifted to a burn center,” You say firmly. “Now, they’re going to put him in a burn dressing—for someone his age it’ll likely be a silver sulfadiazine suit or a biobrane dressing. From what I can see, it looks like a partial thickness burn, which is what we would prefer over a full thickness,”

“Phoenix is still in school—how far is the center?” Helga asks.

“A few hours away,” You start. “I’ll call Ivar,”

“Thank you,” She says to you. “I can’t think straight right now,” 

*

When Ivar knocks on the door to the classroom, he’s greeted with the warm smile from Phoenix school teacher.

“His father called you?” Ivar asks.

“He did, Phoenix has not stopped talking about it since we told him,”

“Mr. Ivar!” Phoenix beckons. “It’s Mr. Ivar,” He says proudly to his teacher. Ivar kneels to his height before speaking:

“How about you and I go get something to eat?” Ivar suggests.

“Tacos?” The child requests.

“A man wise beyond his years,” Ivar hums, lifting Phoenix’s backpack onto his shoulder.

*

Ivar waits. In doing so, he watches the child before him inhale one taco after the other. He can hardly see Phoenix chewing. Finally, as his mouth slows, he peeks up at Ivar through eyes that match Floki’s perfectly.

“What did you do today, Mr. Ivar?” “Did you go to work?”

“No, no, I was off today. I talked to Y/N, and I talked to your mommy and daddy about Apollo,”

“Why?” Phoenix asks, Ivar takes in a breath and mentally prepares himself.

“Little brother got hurt, he’s with mommy and daddy at the doctors,”

“I hurted myself on my bike the other day,” 

“Yes, I remember, and what happened?” Ivar asks.

“My knee was all red,”

“Little brother hurt himself with Mama’s tea. Remember how mama likes her tea each morning? And how Mr. Ivar drinks his coffee, and so does Y/N?”

“Daddy says Miss Y/N drinks coffee like it’s ‘going out of style’,” Phoenix replies, air quotes and all—it makes Ivar snort.

“Yes, well Apollo got the hot tea on himself, and on his chest. Do you know where your chest is?"

“Right here!”Phoenix replies. “And, here is my heart—mama says that’s where kindness comes from,”

“Mama’s right,” Ivar starts. “Now, do you remember when Mr. Ivar was at the doctor’s office after he hurt his legs?”

“Daddy said not to touch them,”

“That’s what it’s going to be like for Apollo—we have to make sure we don’t touch where he hurt himself because it’s going to be sore—just like your knee when you fell off your bike. Now, I was thinking maybe we could draw a picture for little brother, so he can feel better when he’s home?”

“Mr. Ivar?”

“Yes, little man?”

“Is Apollo going to be alright?”

“He’s going to be just fine—Miss Y/N and Mr. Hvitty made sure of it,”

“He got to go in the am-bu-wance?” Phoenix gasps. “I went in one when we saw them at the school!” 

“He did,” Ivar replies, leaving out the part where he was also air lifted in the helicopter, because he knows that Phoenix will be asking you for that for the next year once he finds out. 

As Phoenix makes sure to leave no crumb behind, Ivar peaks down at his phone to see your message:

All set at the hospital, see you tonight xo

“Ready for the art store?” Ivar asks.

“Can we get a taco to go, for later?” Phoenix asks.

Tags:

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*please message me to let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list. specifications for series/etc. are also welcomed, as well as feedback.*

full masterlist can be found here.

#vikings #viking au #modern vikings #modern vikings au #ivar #ivar au #modern ivar au #ivar ragnarsson #modern ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #modern ivar lothbrok #ivar lothbrok fanfiction #vikings fanfiction #vikings floki #modern floki #floki #floki au #hvitserk lothbrok #Hvitserk #hvitserk au #modern hvitserk #ivar x you #ivar x reader #modern ivar x you #modern ivar x reader #— i am i am i am. ( my writings & creations )

[starwalker03]

You’re a bartender? Assign drinks to some of your favorite characters

ooooooooooooooof. wait.

because like. is this what I think they'd like? what I think "represents" them? what I think they'd order? there's too many options here and I have not been a bartender for long enough to know enough drinks.

My favourite characters? damn. I immediately forgot every blorbo I have lmao.

Nightwing's gotta be first. He's complicated cause I'd imagine all the batkids are trained by batman to be weary of alcohol because it impedes brain function. He probably sticks to low percentage things in general. I'm pretty sure he's also canonically a sweet tooth? and if not I think he would be. So I don't think he's a beer guy. Probably when he was younger and that's just What You Do when you're that age and start drinking cause you think 'I'm a guy so i gotta drink beer'. once he's older I figure he's more of a mixer guy, like hard soda, cruisers, that kind of thing. still one drink per serve, not super strong, mostly sugar.

If he's in a situation where he's all for getting drunk and is comfortable doing so, I can see him as a cocktails guy. He strikes me as a jalapeno margarita type. I don't think he's big into shots or anything cause he's still got that ingrained discomfort, but y'know, sweet things that are two standard drinks and only about 100mLs all up.

Honourable mention to Wally West cause I can't think of one without the other right now.

Wally can't get drunk. So to him the most important thing here is taste. I think he's a sweet tooth type. french martini or one of those fruit tingle type situations. Maybe like, a frozen drink? I could see him liking pina coladas. If this is a getting drunk situation and he's trying to get drunk quick, I could see him being the type to order a long island iced tea, even though it's usually only made with a shot and a half in most bars and is a huge red flag. eventually someone would tell him he's wasting time and taste buds, cause long islands are served in a highball and honestly taste like crap.

Okay so Kaldur'ahm. Kaldur'Ahm and alcohol is a thought.

I feel like alcohol isn't a huge thing in Atlantis, like most beverages, cause they're in the water. I can't get into world building about dining and such in an underwater setting right now cause I'll be here for hours. But I think drinking isn't a big thing down there yknow? Then on top of that, Kaldur has a high tolerance to poisons (I think young justice just says jellyfish toxin? but I feel like poison in general makes sense for him) so alcohol takes a lot for him.

I feel like he discovers mead and really likes it. there's some really interesting things you can do with mead, especially with saltier palettes, that I think Kaldur, being Atlantean, would appreciate.

When out partying, though, I think he just does shots. cause if he's just drinking to get drunk then what's the point, y'know? just give him some vodka, preferably like three shots of the stuff in one go, and he's good.

man. Favourite characters. hmmmm.

Hiccup Haddock. So he's a viking, like. mead is already on the table. looking at modern drinks, though. going off of mead being something he probably canonically likes. we're looking at sweet but also bitterness from the aging process and a depth of flavour. I think he'd be into scotch, similar depth to flavour and palette, with a smoky edge to it that I think is very "viking core" or whatever. being a dragon rider and all he's probably used to smokiness in food/drink. I'd make him a good riff on an old-fashioned with scotch instead of bourbon, and maybe something with honey and orange bitters as well. that kinda flavour profile.

Leonardo, of mutant ninja turtle fame, is a thought.

I mean it depends on the iteration. I'm mostly familiar with 2012, 2007 and 2018 (stares at word doc of fic where I mix all three) and I feel like all three of them wouldn't be huge drinkers. but if they were to drink, I'd go with a warm cocktail, perhaps with a tea base. those are very fun. whiskey-honey-chamomile or something of the sort. or perhaps fruity teas with tequila or rum.

Merlin, of BBC's Merlin show, already is seen to be drinking ale in the show. I don't think he hates it. Ale of the time wouldn't have bee particularly great, but he seems to drink it without complaint for the most part.

beers and ales have come a long way and I think he could definitely find something he liked from amber or dark ales, perhaps even as far as guineas. If asked to make him a cocktail, though, I'd try for something bitter, possibly gin-based? in my experience some of those can be interestingly dry. or maybe a highball topped with cider? oooh maybe a moscow mule would be the vibe. sub the mint for rosemary and add a really dry ginger syrup in? or cut the lime juice with ginger juice or something like that.

I could keep thinking of blorbos but I'd be here all night.

#dc comics #dick grayson #young justice #nightwing #wally west #kid flash #kaldur #kaldur’ahm #aqualad #hiccup haddock #httyd #leonardo tmnt #bbc merlin #bartending #cocktails #jab rambles

[howtofightwrite]

Hello, I’m just gonna keep this short and sweet. I am looking for help on how to write weapons, from naming them (not a nickname, their actual names), how they sound via text (bang for an example) and a master list of weapons.

When you're looking for a master list of weapons; good luck. I honestly cannot help you there. One constant of human history is that we've never stopped looking for new and inventive ways to kill things. Whether that meant killing our dinner, or killing each other, there is no beginning to the history of weapons.

We have archaeological remains of the atlatl dating back 20k years, and it's quite plausible that the weapon was in use 44k years ago. To be clear, this is a device with significantly accelerates a thrown spear.

At the other end of the spectrum, I could not possibly hope to catalog every model of gun produced in the last 20 years. There's simply too many, especially when you get into specific mechanical variations that never saw widespread production.

We've talked about Oakeshott typology in the past, this looked to identify variants of European swords from about the 11th to the 16th century, and serves as an expansion of the Petersen Typology (which looked specifically at Viking swords.) The sword, which you'd probably categorize as a long sword, if you're coming from a modern perspective, in Europe, appeared as over 22 distinct weapons, (with multiple sub-variants.)

I don't mean to sound harsh, but, a comprehensive list of every weapon used by humans to dispatch one another would be a life's work... and a fool's errand, because it would almost certainly be incomplete.

Naming weapons is very contextual, and comes with two separate meanings.

First, you don't give a weapon a, “nickname,” you give it a name. This is especially important in myths, where the weapon is just as much a mythical character in its own right. For example, Excalibur, Mjolnir, Gungnir (not sure why I'm on a Norse kick there, but you get the idea.) Excalibur isn't a sword's nickname, it's the sword's given name.

Second, weapon names tend to be pretty utilitarian and functional, or at least a lot more basic than it initially appears. For example, the epee is a kind of fencing blade. So, where does the name epee come from? From, “épée,” which means, “sword,” in French, English gleefully strips the accent marks, but otherwise, that's the source. The espada is another example, it's a kind of sword, but the name comes from the Italian, “spada,” meaning, “sword.” The katana is another example. Yeah, it's, “a special kind of sword,” but it's just called, “sword.” Claymore just means, “big sword,” in Scottish Gaelic.

This persists into firearms. For example, an Assault Rifle is just a translation from the German, Sturmgewehr, which just means, “storm gun,” and is intended for use while storming an enemy position. No bonus points for figuring out what the intended use of a battle rifle is, or who is expected to use a Designated Marksman's Rifle. A shotgun is designed to eject small pellets, called, “shot.” Oh, and the term, “rifle,” refers to the firearm's barrel being scored in such a way as to cause the projectile to spin in flight, stabilizing it.

A lot of firearms simply have very utilitarian sources in their names. The M1911, and AK47 both commemorate their first year of service in their names. This also includes the StG44, and a lot of guns, honestly. In other cases, they're simply, brutally precise, descriptions. The FN SCAR is just “Fabrique Nationale,” (the manufacturer), and the Special Operations Forces Combat Assault Rifle. (The O and F are dropped for whatever reason. Probably because SCAR sounds better than SOFCAR.) The ACR is the Adaptive Combat Rifle. The H&K USP, is the “Universelle Selbstladepistole,” because German is a language that loves creating new compound words in the moment. (Universal Self-loading Pistol.)

In other cases, they're simply iterative. The Swiss AK-4, is just the fourth “automatkarbin,” adopted by the Swiss military. (At least, I assume it was the 4th, I've never heard of the AK-1, 2, or 3.) And it was superseded by the AK-5. Here's a problem. The AK-4 is also the H&K G3. (I think specifically the G3A3, but I'm not 100% certain on the specific variant.) And the AK-5 is the FN FNC (Which, hilariously, unpacks as the, “Fabrique Nationale Fabrique Nationale Carabine.”) In both cases, it's the same gun with a different manufacturing history, and a different name.

This is without even thinking about places like the Khyber Pass, which make any attempt of comprehensively cataloging every firearm impossible. And this isn't a new thing.

Looping back the Petersen typology for a second, there's a problem among 9th to 11th century swords, where a number of people would stamp Ulfberht into their blade. Now, we don't know who Ulfberht was, but we do know they were well regarded enough that other smiths produced counterfeit Ulfberht blades. And, it's likely they continued to do so for at least a century after Ulfberht's death.

The history of weapons is a wild ride, and I could keep going without pause, because this stuff does not slow down.

If you give me a time frame, and a region, you're looking at, I could do some quick research and make some educated guesses. What I can't do is a full history of weapons, because the Venn diagram of, “times when a human has wanted to kill another human,” and, “the entirety of human history,” forms a perfect circle.

As for the sounds a weapon will make? You can look that up on YouTube. Obviously, a weapon's going to sound slightly different if it's striking fabric vs striking metal, but, there is video out there. If you've got a specific example in mind, I could probably offer a more precise explanation.

-Starke

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#Starke answers #How to Fight Write #Writing advice #Writing reference #Writing tips #history #weapons

[minlout3heathlegs3ruffthrokfan]

Hello, everyone! Today, I've decided to make a poll due to it being the Year of the Dragon, AAAAND it'll also be Hiccup's Birthday. It's fate, so I'm determined to get a bunch of HTTYD fanfics done, mostly one-shots and stuff. However, this poll is to determine what multi-chapter, full-length story ideas to go with, because I can't decide. So I would appreciate some help, my dear followers! 😉🙏🏻

There are several ideas I'd like to work on, however, I'm struggling to choose which one to start on first. Granted, I have a feeling I know what you guys want me to work on first, but I still wanted to ask anyways. 😏

So before you vote, I'd like to list down the options below and a little summary as to what each choice will be about.

The poll will end on 11pm CST, March 29th, Hiccup's birthday.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Spilt Milk (A Minlout Story) 

[Minlout and Heathlegs, with mention of Hiccstrid]

(Modern AU) A current WIP where Snotlout and Fishlegs take their girlfriends to an ice cream joint for a double date to have Shamrock Shakes for St. Patrick’s Day. But Snotlout forgets that Minden’s lactose intolerant and allergic to milk products, leaving her upset and she leaves, leaving Snotlout lost and guilty �� and knowing that there’s a rift in their relationship because of his idiocy and inconsideration. 

Can Snotlout pick up the pieces and make it up to Minden for his mistake? Or is this the beginning of the end of the only romantic relationship he’s ever had?

College Years (A Heathlegs Story)

(Modern/College AU) This story follows Fishlegs and Snotlout as they deal with college drama, stressful curriculum, tough professors, problematic peers, learning to “adult”, dorm drama, young adult antics, and even love. All’s fair in love and college. The following four years will test the strength and durability of their friendship — especially when a certain raven-haired vixen enters their lives.

The Impossible Quest (A Heathlegs Story)

When Thorvald (OC), Dagur and Heather’s cousin, requests Fishlegs’ audience on Berserk, he and Snotlout decide to go fly over there. However, the welcome is hardly friendly. It’s discovered that Thorvald found the love letters and poems between Fishlegs and Heather, and that according to Viking law, the punishment for tainting a chieftain’s female relative through love letters and poems is death.

However, since someone came and told him about the records proving that Fishlegs is a distant relative of the Berserker Royal Family, he will be exempt from this fate and will instead be forced to participate in an Impossible Quest in order to win Heather’s hand in marriage. Should he fail, not only will he not get Heather’s hand but his life will also be forfeit. The Quest? Fishlegs has to hunt down a dragon that’s been terrorizing the Forest Interior of Berserk and has been preventing the Berserkers from being able to get access to the area where the Berserk bees live to acquire their honey. Kill it and give Thorvald its head. 

Will Fishlegs and Snotlout be able to complete the Quest and defeat the dragon? Or will they fail and lose their lives or their honor? 

Tradition or Bust (A Minlout Story)

(Arranged Marriage AU)

Snotlout and his family is off to the Althing to find a bride for Snotlout. While he’s there, he surprisingly meets up with Minden and the other Wingmaidens. When he asks her why they’re here at the Althing, she replies that Freya has released them from her service by sending the Razorwhips away, thus freeing them from their vows. While several went back home, most have felt unwilling to leave their fellow sisters-in-arms and Atali decided to establish the Wingmaidens as an official Viking Tribe and now rules them as their Chieftess, with Minden as her Heir. As a consequence, the Wingmaidens are now searching for men amongst their allies and Atali’s own clan for potential husbands. The catch? Those men have to cut all ties with their former community and join the Wingmaidens at theirs. It’s not strictly a matriarchal society, but neither is it patriarchal. 

Of course, Minden wishes for Snotlout to be her groom, and formally asks him to marry her. While Snotlout is both shocked, surprised, and ecstatic, he’s also hesitant and afraid because he knows that his father would be against this match, being a fierce and stubborn traditionalist to the Old Ways.

And he’s right. When Spitelout finds out, he’s furious. With Snotlout being his only male heir, Spitelout wants and expects Snotlout to remain on Berk with their family clan, so that he can inherit the mantle once Spitelout either steps down or dies. Thus he demands that either Minden join HIS clan or she can find someone else.

Can Snotlout and Minden overcome Spitelout’s chauvinistic thinking? Will they be able to be together? Or will they have to part their separate ways and marry someone else?

Snotlout’s Impossible Quest (A Minlout Story)

(Arranged Marriage AU)

An alternative story to “Tradition or Bust” where instead of Minden asking for Snotlout’s hand, Snotlout asks for Minden’s hand. This time, instead of the Wingmaidens, it’s just Minden with her maternal family — Atali and her family, with her (Atali’s) brother at the forefront as Chief of their Tribe. Not very impressed with Snotlout, and with other men competing for the hands of Minden and Linden, Atali’s brother offers Snotlout an ultimatum: either he completes an Impossible Quest of his (the Chief’s) choosing, or he relinquishes his chance of winning Minden’s hand.

Stormy Weather (A Minlout Story)

Snotlout flies to Wingmaiden Island, tasked to deliver a message to Atali, when a fierce thunderstorm hits him when he’s three-fourths of the way there. Will he survive? Or will history and deja vu repeat itself?

Saga of Snotlout the Strong (A Minlout Story)

(Saga AU) A story that has Snotlout running into a snowstorm. Seeking shelter, Snotlout, a warrior, asks the owner of the house — Johann — for his hospitality. When Johann leaves for a journey, he tasks Snotlout with the duty of protecting his family and property from raiders. When raiders come to barge in on the peaceful estate, it’s up to Snotlout to save the day. Can he defeat them and win both honor and renown? Or will he fail and be under their mercy?

Saga of Fishlegs the Bonecrushingly Strong (A Heathlegs Story)

Basically like the story above, but with Fishlegs, Heather, Berserker raiders, and him acting his alternate persona: Thor Bonecrusher.

Snotlout the Weapon-Tester (A Minlout Story)

(Saga AU)  A story where Snotlout is Gobber’s Weapons Tester in his village, and Trader Johann arrives so Gobber sends Snotlout to get his usual scrap metal and other items. He then meets Johann’s daughters and falls in love with Minden, his eldest daughter. Can a humble Weapon Tester like him woo a Merchant’s Daughter? Can he get her to look his way? Or is he to be forever doomed to be a laughingstock for being the only single youth in his village?

Snotlout the Goldsmith (A Minlout Story)

(Saga AU) A story where Snotlout and his brothers Throk and Fishlegs are out hunting and run into a group of Valkryies bathing. As they watch, they see some ne’er-do-wells trying to take advantage of them and corner them, so they decide to come to their rescue. Afterwards, the Valkryies introduce themselves as Heather, Minden, and Ruffnut. They then offer themselves to the men, each of them choosing the man they wish to marry. But they warn that they’ll be off to join in Odin’s wars after a long hiatus. So for several years they end up happy living together and even starting to have children of their own. But eventually they disappear as promised. Saddened, Throk and Fishlegs abandon their homes as they go on a journey to find their wives again, leaving Snotlout, and their children, to remain behind, Snotlout having faith that his wife will return one day, and thus continues life as usual.

However, Mala, Queen of the region where they live, hears of them and how Snotlout is a legendary goldsmith and warrior, and with a prophecy which foretells of this, Mala sends soldiers to take them and tries to pressure Snotlout to marry her. But Snotlout’s heart is still set for his absent wife.

Will Snotlout be able to get out and escape? Will the wives of Snotlout and his brothers ever return?

A Warrior, A Dragon, and the Princess Trapped in the Tower (A Ruffthrok Story)

(Saga/Fairytale AU) Ruffnut entered a tower to search for some goodies and find her brother, but she ends up trapped in the tower. Turns out it’s a trap made by a dragon and it imprisons her in the tower. So Ruffnut, absolutely bored out of her mind, just looks on in annoyance as warriors from all over the Viking world try to slay the dragon, only to be defeated. But hark! A warrior comes. Who is he? His name is Throk. Will he succeed in defeating the dragon and freeing Ruffnut from her prison of eternal boredom?

Switching Places (A Minlout Story)

(Arranged Marriage AU)

When Spitelout takes Snotlout to the Althing in search for a bride to carry on the Jorgenson name, he (Snotlout) certainly wasn’t expecting to see Minden of all people — not only without any Wingmaidens around, but also with her twin sister, Linden (OFC), Atali and her family. And he DEFINITELY wasn’t expecting that Minden and Linden were Atali’s biological daughters and Atali’s brother’s foster daughters. When Snotlout asks if her family’s looking for a husband for her and Linden, and their foster father cuts in and explains that yes, they are — that is to say that LINDEN is, and that Minden actually already has a young man whom he plans on marrying her to, much to Snotlout’s shock and Minden’s chagrin.

As if to make matters worse, Snotlout runs into the guy, and instead of apologizing, the man demands Snotlout to apologize, riling the latter up. If that doesn’t stoke the fire for conflict, the Twins decide to honor Loki by contributing to the conversation and managing to put a speechless Snotlout into an even deeper hole by declaring a duel between Snotlout and Minden’s almost-fiance: the winner gets to marry Minden. At the same time, Linden begins to form a plan to get Minden and Snotlout together — one that will be incredibly risky and could involve either much dishonor or even Snotlout’s death.

Can Snotlout survive the duel and defeat his love rival for Minden’s hand? Or will he fail and lose honor and face — and possibly his life? And what is Linden scheming with that brain of hers?

Case of the Missing Razorwhips (A HTTYD Short-story with Minlout)

When the Gang gets a message from Atali informing them of missing Razorwhips, they go to Wingmaiden Island to help them solve the mystery. Can they figure it out before the Razorwhips are once again on the verge of endangerment? And how will Snotlout ever find the time amongst the chaos to play footsie with Minden?

Atali Gets Amnesia (A HTTYD Short-story with Minlout)

After suffering an accident, Atali has lost all memory of being a Wingmaiden — and is even scared of dragons like a normal Viking. Not knowing what to do, the Wingmaidens seek the aid of the Riders. When nothing seems to work, Hiccup comes up with the idea to use hypnotism to try to awaken her memories, and asks Snotlout to work his magic! 

Will Snotlout succeed in his task? Will Atali be able to recover her memories and her old self back? Or will Snotlout blunder it up as usual? 

We Weren’t Meant to Be (A Minlout/Heathlegs/Ruffthrok Short-story)

Since DreamWorks/Netflix failed to show or explain in the final episode of the RTTE series how the SnotRuffLegs love triangle came to be and just let the Heathlegs, Ruffthrok, and Minlout pairings fade away without any logical explanation or natural progression, this story will have each pairing resolve this, and have it show how Snotlout and Fishlegs ended up competing for Ruffnut’s hand.

Life At Caldera Cay (A Ruffthrok Story)

[Ruffnut x Throk, Tuffnut x OFC] 

What if Ruffnut had accepted Throk’s proposal during “Snuffnut”? However, she only accepts if Throk allows Tuffnut to come with them, convincing him that having Tuffnut around would be beneficial for domestic duties. After the nice foot massages, Throk can’t help but agree. So Tuffnut goes with Ruffnut and Throk back to Caldera Cay, where Ruffnut becomes Throk’s wife. This story follows them as they live their new life, and there also seems to be a local Defender who appears to find Tuffnut’s personality endearing.

The Three Musketeers (A Minlout/Heathlegs/Ruffthrok Story)

Snotlout, Throk, and Fishlegs are part of the King’s Companions of the Wilderwest, and start getting involved in a conspiracy that schemes to dethrone King Hiccup the Third. Can they be able to stop the plot and protect the King? Will they also find love along the way?

WW1/WW2 AU (A Minlout/Heathlegs/Ruffthrok Story)

An AU about our favorite characters in a World War era universe. Whether as soldiers, civilians, Resistance, spies, or something else.

Beauty and the Beast AU (A Minlout Story)

A story for which Snotlout stars as the Beast, and Minden as Belle’s roll. Minden has been sheltered in her hometown her whole life, but she has always been fascinated in the tales of dragons and dragon riders. But when her parents disappear while on a journey, Minden decides to leave the safety of her home to go search for them, until she comes to a place both feared and the source of legends: Breakneck Bog, a realm where a famous ruler had once lived before darkness descended and cursed the place, and no one who lived there was ever heard from again, and the place was separated from where Minden had lived years ago. There are rumors of a monster that lurks in the Bog, snatching passing travelers to devour once he returns to his den. Nevertheless, Minden goes in, knowing that her parents must be here after a friend spotted them enter here.

When she enters the abandoned castle, she calls for anyone to answer her, only to run into the Monster of Breakneck Bog: A humagon. Half man, half dragon. She bargains with the creature to let her parents go in exchange for her to remain. But it’s so difficult when the occupant is so... monstrous.

Can Snotlout be able to become a human again? Can he get her to fall in love with him long enough for the curse to be lifted? Or is he doomed forever to be in this hideous form of a humagon?

Quest for Camelot AU (A Minlout Story)

A story where Minden roles as Kayley the spunky daughter of a knight and Snotlout stars as the blind hermit Garrett in a Quest for Camelot AU. When Dagur the Deranged wishes to claim the Dragon Eye and become King of the Archipelago, can Minden and Snotlout stop him?

My Jolly Sailor Bold (A Minlout/Heathlegs/Ruffthrok Story)

(Siren/Mermaid AU)

Snotlout, Fishlegs and Throk join the crew of a ship on a journey when they’re beset by sirens/mermaids. But they end up getting captured and imprisoned. As the crew ends up being cruel towards them, Fishlegs stands up and protests against it and saying that they’re not evil creatures. While less sure, and hesitant, Throk and Snotlout join him in his protest. And they quickly help them escape. As a result of this, they end up getting up in a boat and marooned and left stranded on the ocean. As the three argue about whether freeing the creatures was the right decision or not, said creatures meet them from the ocean.

What will they do? Will Fishlegs, Throk, and Snotlout meet a grisly fate at the bottom of the ocean? 

A Mermaid’s Call (A Minlout/Heathlegs/Ruffthrok Story)

(Siren/Mermaid AU)

The male HTTYD cast get turned into mermen as a curse, and they can never hope to return back to their human forms unless they manage to lure a female in with their mersong that only they can sing.

As months turn into years which turn into decades, the men learn to learn and polish their songs and many attempts have been made with varying results. One by one, each of the men were able to return back to being humans again. Except for one.

Snotlout can only look on as his friends are able to go back to their normal lives and pretend that the curse was behind them, while he is left behind, the only one who has yet to lure anyone in with his mersong. He had a few bites, but none of it was enough to end his curse. Will Snotlout ever be able to find someone who will respond to his song? Or is Snotlout doomed to remain a merman... forever?

Prince & the Pauperess (A Ruffthrok Story)

The Twins are the Twins, but what if they had been separated since birth, and Ruffnut was given to a poor family, while Tuffnut is the eldest in the Royal Family? What would happen if Tuffnut was bored with his life and wanted some stimulation, only to run into someone who vaguely looks like him, but a girl? And what if he had a schemish scheme that had them switch positions for a few days? And said woman fell in love with his hunky hunk bodyguard Sir Throk? Surely, nothing BAD can happen... right?

The Quest for Camelot (A Heathlegs Story)

Basically, similar to the Minlout version, but with Heathlegs.

Robin Hood AU (A Minlout/Heathlegs/Ruffthrok Story)

Our dastardly trio will be playing the roles of our favorite characters in Disney's Robin Hood. Will they be able to win the hands of our favorite certain maidens?

Emperor's New Groove AU (A Minlout/Heathlegs/Ruffthrok Story)

Where Snotlout's the Emperor/King, but is blind when an enemy from within turns him into a dragon or a sheep or a boar (you guys decide). He then gets the help of a village chief (Fishlegs) to help him find the cure to bring him back to being a human. He also does a little soul-searching along the way.

Selkie AU (A Minlout/Heathlegs/Ruffthrok Story)

What happens when Snotlout, Fishlegs, and Throk find a group of Selkies? Obviously, they ask them to marry them! But will they accept? Or will they abandon them, leaving the with broken hearts?

Mulan AU (A Ruffthrok Story)

When her homeland gets invaded, Ruffnut decides to disguise herself as a man and join the Defenders, where her unit gets trained for the front lines. They’re being trained by Throk, Commander of the unit, whom isn’t bad to look at. However, her tendency for causing trouble, despite her excellent performances as a trainee, causes her to almost get kicked out of camp — that is... if the war didn’t decide to come to them at that moment. Between fighting the enemy and trying to keep the others in her unit from discovering her true identity. Will she survive? Will they find out her secret? Can they defeat the enemy?

Snotlout’s A Daddy AU (A Minlout Story)

(Modern AU)

When playboy and wealthy Snotlout makes a terrible mistake, Minden has enough and leaves him. Little does he know that his life’s about to change several months later. When Snotlout find a baby on his doorstep, he finds out through a letter that it’s HIS courtesy of Minden, and that if he can prove himself to be a good father to their child, then she’ll return to him.

Not the type who’s good with babies, not even his own, he enlists the help of his buddies Throk and Fishlegs, and even Hiccup. Hilarity ensues as they learn how to raise a baby and become a new father/uncles. Will they succeed, or will it end with a loaded diaper? Will Snotlout be able to get back together with Minden, now that he realizes how precious she is to him?

Virtual Intervention (A Spitelout + Minlout Story) 

(Modern AU)

When Spitelout learns that his son quit his day job in favor of playing World of Vikings all day, he decides to hire virtual assassins to kill his son’s character in order to get Snotlout back to normal life. Little does he know that there was an easier and much cheaper option.

Blog/YouTube AU (A Minlout Story)

There’s actually two different story ideas for this AU:

Story #1: Snotlout and Minden are bloggers or Youtubers who often look at each other’s blogs or vids, and can often collab with each other. They’re pretty popular and their viewers seem to enjoy a favorite pastime of shipping them and even coming up with memes. 

Story #2: Snotlout has a blog/vlog/Youtube channel, and he’s a relatively famous icon online and does this when he’s not at school or in his activities. However, he’s suffering from low self-esteem and even low-key depression because of his father. When his father finds out about his low grades and that he didn’t make the football team, he’s furious and dismisses him as a failure and a worthless son. Feeling rather down about that, Snotlout decides to start another article/video. When he discovers a recent comment from what seems like a long-time subscriber, his spirits begin to lift. What’s more is that they, the subscriber, wishes to meet him in person at the park. While wary at first, Snotlout figures that he ought to thank them in person and agrees. When he goes to the park, he runs into his subscriber — a girl named Minden — and his life changes forever.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Thank you very much for your support! I look forward to the results of your votes, and I'll let you guys know what the top 3 choices were by the end of March 29th.

Minlout! Heathlegs! Ruffthrok! Oi, Oi, Oi!

— Minlout3Heathlegs3RuffthrokFan

#minlout3heathlegs3ruffthrokfan #httyd #httyd fandom #dreamworks dragons #race to the edge #httyd minor pairings #httyd minlout #httyd heathlegs #httyd ruffthrok #minlout #heathlegs #ruffthrok #httyd poll #httyd fanfic poll #fanfic poll #tumblr polls #poll #httyd fanfics #httyd fanfiction #httyd fanfictions #snotlout jorgenson #minden #snotlout #fishlegs ingerman #heather #fishlegs #ruffnut thorston #throk #ruffnut

[deceitfuldevout]

Deceitfuldevout's Vikings Masterlist:

❤️ = Fluff

🔞 = Spicy/Nsfw

🖤 = Dark

❌ = No warnings/Sfw

One-shots:

What Makes A Woman? - Dark!Ivar x Lagerthasdottir!Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703920915905396736/what-makes-a-woman?source=share

Apex - A/B/O!Vikings AU:Dark!Ivar x General!Reader: 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703921560316198912/apex?source=share

Little Bird - An Ivar and Ramsay imagine - Gray!Ivar x Reader x Dark!Ramsay: 🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703922770148540416/little-bird?source=share

Promise Me - Modern!Vikings AU: Dark!Ivar x Reader: 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703924864080281600/promise-me?source=share

His Name is Ivar - Dark!Ivar x Ex!Reader: 🔞🖤❤️ https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/703982568381546496/his-name-is-ivar?source=share

Play Me a Tragedy - Dark!Ivar x Wife!Reader: 🔞🖤 https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/726280849102962688/play-me-a-tragedy?source=share

Series:

Dear Brother - Modern!Vikings AU: Dark!Ivar x Reader: 🔞🖤https://www.tumblr.com/deceitfuldevout/707809377467432961/dear-brother-masterlist?source=share

#dark!ivar #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar fanfiction #dark smut #dark!fic #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #dark!ivar lothbrok #dark!ivar lothbrok x reader #dark!ivar the boneless #dark!ivar x reader #reader #reader insert #fem!reader #afab!reader #fab!reader #vikings #alex hogh anderson #dark!ivar the boneless x reader #dark!ivar ragnarsson x reader #dark!ivar ragnarsson #my work #my works #vikings tv series

[artemiseamoon]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

Hey 😁 how are you! 💜

Since I did recent fics for the last ask like this, I’ll dedicate this one to some oldies from a fandom I really miss. It was the last time I really felt like I was part of a community here, le sigh. But I’m glad I was able to experience it and make the friends I did! Vikings community, I adore you & you’ll always be with me!

VIKINGS

In the shadows ~ Halfdan x f reader (one of my favs I’ve ever done) it’s a bit dark

If we only ever loved once ~ Modern! king a Harald x ofc | almost ofc x Halfdan (god this has my heart, a soulmate/missed chance fic)

Milk & Honey ~ how does someone whose not a Bjorn girl, at all, I can’t stand him 😂 write a werebear soulmate au??? I don’t know. But it happened and I love this story so much. This Bjorn is okay with me :)

My first long Vikings fic, A golden palace which I love to f’n much, I actually finished it but never completed it on tumblr. I got discouraged when ppl stopped interacting and reblogging but man, this fic holds a special place in my heart! Plus I got to spent a lot of time writing that bastard Oleg who I love and hate at the same time.

Tied between these for the last one: a gift from the gods (dark king Harald oneshot w/ a little halfdan, smutty and indulgent ) absolute pleasure ( another smutty self indulgent one, my oc gets to use both Halfdan and Harald sexually one shot)

The last ask, where I rec some of my recent stuff

#fanfic rec #self rec #Vikings fandom #Vikings fanficion #those older things might need some editing but I love them anyway

[breitzbachbea]

tell me what have you seen in ireland? uwu

Oh my god. Oh myyy god. I'LL GLADLY TELL.

So, I did just stay in Dublin bc I like to really get to know one place on my own terms instead of hopping from place to place and only see a bit. I did spend one day in Derry, though.

In Dublin, I went to:

- Dublinia, a museum about medieval and viking Dublin. One of the students working there talked his whole shift away with me and became a friend.

- Christchurch Cathedral, where Strongbow is buried

- St. Patrick's Cathedral (even found two of the mismatched tiles, bc 'only God is perfect'!)

- Dublin Castle (Saw the River Puddle! Or is it Poddle? I'm so bad with Irish river names)

- Strolled through St. Stephen's once, but didn't explore much.

- Went to the see the Book of Kells and the Long Hall in Trinity College (their Cicero bust is so funny)

- Went to the Cobblestones pub with a tumblr mutual and it was a lovely evening

- Visited Henrietta Street 14, one of the old Georgian townhouses that tells the stories from the British High Life to Irish squalor in Dublin

- Just walked around in Grangegorman and Phibsboro, bc that is where Harry, Soph and Paddy live (DESPAIR. still have no clue where I want Charlie to reside.)

- Went to the 'Dead Zoo', the national natural science museum.

- Went to the national archaeological museum and saw a cool sword. And got more extra viking info, bc it was with my Dublinia friend.

- Went to the museum of Modern Irish Literature, which was 80% James Joyce. (One room encourages you to write down the beginning of a book and I just left the beginning of a Harry and Charlie One-Shot at the wall).

- Went to the National Gallery and saw some John Keats and Renaissance Era stuff

- Went to the General Post Office Museum with their great contextualization of the Easter Rising with what came before and after. (Love the poster walls that really embed you in the Zeitgeist).

- Went to EPIC The Museum of Irish Emigration. That one was fun, I think.

- What's it called, Merrion Square? Wherever the Oscar Wilde statue is. I went there.

- In Derry, I went to the Guildhall to see their exhibition on the Ulster Plantation. That was cool!

- I also went to the Free Derry Museum, which does such a good job of contextualizing the beginning of the Troubles.

- And I walked the entirety of Derry's walls once!!! And bc the busride didn't go through Belfast, I saw a lot of the countryside in Derry, Tyrone and Armagh.

- Went to St. Michan's to see the Crypt YEHAAAAW. (The bodies are mummified bc of the temperature staying the same, the limestone walls and the methane gas that comes up through the ground).

I honestly may have forgotten something, I'm not sure. It was all in all a great trip and I already ache to return, the same way I ache to return to Sicily. I know it's Scottish and there is no Ocean in sight but ... my bonnie lies over the ocean ...

#beareplies #mary-eve #I also spent too much time and money in Hodges and Figgs. God. I have barely a cent to my name now.

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

I decided to empty my Google docs of all the stuff just sitting there. It’s gives me the option to delete it from there but still have it here if I want to continue.

So here is what I’m gonna do. I have lots of works in my Google docs and they’re really winding me up just sitting there. So I am going to post it all. Some have moodboards and some don’t. Some have chapters and some are just a paragraph or two. I’d like to clear out my docs hence why I’m dumping them all out here.

Use the tag #sami’s fic stash if you wanna filter it out. I’m going to schedule each fic so I don’t flood my blog and link them in here.

So welcome to:

Sami’s Fic Stash

Of unfinished fics.

Hold Me While You Wait. Modern au Hvitserk x F!Reader.

The Incalescence of You. A/B/O smut fest with plot. Alpha Kylo x Omega Reader and Alpha Hux x Omega Reader.

In the Wake of the Devil. Constantine/Star Wars au crossover. Exorcist!Hux x Psychic!Reader.

Dröttning. Ivar x English Princess!Reader and Hvitserk. It follows the the events of the Viking series from when they blood eagle King Ælle. I had hoped to finish it and maybe I will one day. I have written the ending though so spoilers. Read the warnings.

Kylo. Kylo Ren x F!Reader one shot. Smut, 18+

Matching Melodies. Armitage Hux x f!reader modern soulmate au.

#sami’s fic stash