I’m not superstitious. I believe in plenty when there’s reason and evidence to believe. I don’t believe in anythingI can’t see. I feel like there’s a fucking axe hanging over my head. I can’t see it, but I b e l i e v e it.
I’m not superstitious, I believe in plenty when there’s reason and evidence to believe. I don’t believe in anything I can’t see. I feel like there’s a fucking axe hanging over my head. I can’t see it, but I believe it.
Early 17th Century Combination warhammer and warpick/six shot gun.
Has six barrels concealed on it for six shots. The head contains five barrels, their muzzles concealed by a hinged cover forming the edge of the hammer. The topmost barrel is ignited by a matchlock fitted on one side of the head, its mechanism concealed by a brass plate cut out and engraved in the form of a lion. The second barrel has a wheellock ignition system, the mechanism of which occupies most of the outer surface of the opposite side of the axe-head. There is a tubular extension to the pan of the wheellock intended to hold a length of match which would be ignited by the flash of the priming pan and then withdrawn to ignite the three remaining barrels. A sixth barrel, also hand-ignited, is concealed within the haft.
Part of the Royal Armouries Collection in the United Kingdom
Paladin OOC: “If I’m going out, I’m going out big, you can’t unring the bell.”
Paladin (Who is a dragonborn): “As I’m pinning her down I lean over her and whisper “Die” before using my breath weapon at point blank range.“
DM: "I’ll count that as an automatic crit. The room starts to smell like burning flesh, and her face starts to look like Anakin Skywalker’s.”
The rest of us had to role to see if we threw up from the smell.
Paladin: “I’m going to hold her hands down with my knees, throw my shield to the side, and two hand my flaming axe on her face.”
DM: “Okay, roll to attack.”
Paladin: “…Nat 20.”
DM: “Okay, roll double the fire damage since you’re basically attacking a 3rd degree burn victim.”
Paladin: “Okay I rolled 44 damage.”
DM: “Wow okay. You slam your flaming axe down into her head again, and again, and again. The amount of blood and facial tissue spraying around the room is more than you would find on a battle field, even the barbarian looks horrified at the massacre going on in the corner.”
I’m not superstitious. I believe in plenty when there’s reason and evidence to believe. I don’t believe in anything I can’t see. I feel like there’s a fucking axe hanging over my head. I can’t see it, but I believe it.
I’ve seen a few of these sorts of things bouncing around Tumblr - mostly for the benefit of writers, i imagine - but they seem to mostly be made by other writers, or other people with only a passing knowledge of such things.
Either way, they could be better, and i hope the following is more comprehensive, even if i keep it fairly brief.
This will be divided into two categories - weapons and armour - with four general subcategories in each. It’s difficult to cram centuries of warfare and thousands of weapon/armour variants into eight broad “boxes”, so bear with me. Note: This list does not contain ranged/missile weapons, shields, etc. I can do a further post about those if this one proves popular.
Double- or single-edged, long, bladed weapons.
Can be many lengths, weights, and styles, each with a different fighting style and role.
Were very expensive and hard to make throughout most of history; were wielded only by the wealthy. As such, they became status symbols.
Generally bad at getting through armour. Better against cloth and flesh.
An all-round weapon; usually used as a backup to a specialist weapon more than being a main weapon in its own right.
Baby swords are called daggers. These are used differently to swords, and weren’t often battlefield weapons (though they were definitely used).
Katanas are awful swords. Just putting that out there.
(Note: diagram is of a wood-cutting axe, which is slightly different to a war axe, but general components are the same).
Haft of wood with a short hacking blade on one end.
As with the sword, can be many lengths and styles, each with a different role.
War axe heads/blades (unless wood-axes) are not wedge-shaped! They are very flat to reduce the weight, and are also much sharper.
Hits harder and penetrates armour better than a sword, but is much more unwieldy. It is nearly impossible to block or parry with an axe.
As such, axes are very aggressive, close-range weapons; the easiest way to not die is to kill the enemy before he kills you.
Note: You will find it very hard to cut an axe haft with another weapon. Axes didn’t break very often on the battlefield (the most common breakage was the head coming off).
Some axes were dedicated throwing weapons, but these were exceptionally rare.
Bludgeons (Hammers, Maces, etc.):
(Sorry about the lack of labels)
Metal or wooden haft with a heavy, blunt metal head on one end.
As ever, can be various lengths and styles, each with a different role.
The head of the weapon can vary considerably; can be a metal orb, a spiked/studded orb, a flanged metal head, a hammer head, a hammer head with a spike, and so on.
Despite their differences, each weapon performs much the same; they are used to deal blunt-force trauma to an enemy.
Are excellent against heavily-armoured opponents, who get stunned or incapacitated by such blows. Long spikes can also puncture armour (like a nail through a tin can).
Unarmoured opponents are less affected (a broken bone is less severe than a stab wound). Better to use a blade against them.
Like axes, these are very unwieldy and short-ranged.
Most diverse category; there are many kinds of polearm.
They were the most common weapons on medieval battlefields (used mostly by poor foot soldiers), because they were cheap and usually made by modifying agricultural tools (of which there were no shortage).
Consists of a long pole with a blade on the end.
Usually wielded defensively by large bodies of men; they were able to keep the enemy at arm’s length (poor foot soldiers weren’t known for their bravery).
Excellent against cavalry, since most spears are longer than lances, and horses will avoid running into a wall of spears (they’re not stupid). Variants with “hooks” are also good, as they could pull men off their horses.
Mostly used for stabbing, but some had the ability to hack and chop.
Note: It is very, very hard to cut a polearm’s pole in half - even with a big axe. It’s easier to snap them, but it’s still extremely hard to do.
If an enemy gets “inside” your weapon, you’re dead (unless you’re quick to pull out a backup weapon).
(This will stick to a brief overview of general armour types; an overview of armour components can be found here)
Light, relatively flexible, comfortable, no sharp edges.
Most common armour, with padded cloth armour often worn under heavier armour (for comfort/cushioning).
NOT the same as a leather jacket - that kind of leather is far too soft. Leather armour was made of boiled leather or rawhide, both of which are very tough (like a cross between flattened cardboard and overcooked steak).
Cheaper than steel, and easier to work with.
Provided minimal protection, and extremely vulnerable to thrusting attacks.
Mail (or Chainmail):
Ubiquitous, comfortable, flexible as cloth.
Easy to make, but very time-consuming.
However, it was exceptionally heavy, and soaked up sunlight (so it was very hot in hot weather).
Consists of thousands of interlocking metal rings.
Can resist slashing or glancing attacks easily, but strong thrusting attacks would often penetrate.
Scale/Segment Armour (e.g. Lamellar, Brigandine):
Transitional armour; somewhere between mail and plate.
Consists of small metal plates held together in close sequence.
Less flexible than chainmail, and less comfortable. Just as hot and nearly as heavy.
Less vulnerable to thrusting attacks; the individual plates are stronger than mail rings.
Most protective form of armour; all but impervious to slashing attacks, and highly resistant to thrusts.
Also cushioned blows by redistributing impact force over an entire plate.
Least comfortable; inflexible, hot, somewhat restricts and slows movement.
Slightly lighter than chainmail.
Was not (re)invented until the later medieval era, as steelworking techniques weren’t good enough.
To make a single piece of metal this big was difficult and expensive. For most of the medieval era (when it was available at all), only the rich could afford it.
I’m not superstitious. I believe in plenty when there’s reason and evidence to believe. I don’t believe in anything I can’t see. I feel like there’s a fucking axe hanging over my head. I can’t see it, but I believe it.
Notes: Hello everyone! I’ve been reading (stalking) everything about Vikings lately(well mostly Ivar because let’s face it I’m Ivar trash right now) and you guys made me want to write something of my own. So there it is! My first one-shot. English is not my native language so I’m sorry if there is any mistakes. This is my first smut as well so please bear with me! Feedback are always welcomed. I hope you’ll enjoy it!
Becoming a skilled shieldmaiden was the only thing you ever dreamed of since you were a child. But your parents did not like the idea of you risking your life so they never wanted you to learn. They always said that you would become a farmer like them and take over the family’s farm, like they did. When you turned thirteen, you did not listen any longer and escaped every morning to go train all by yourself with a sword you found one day near the river. Without any experience, your training was not helpful at all; all you did was swinging your sword, desperately trying to gain some skills. One afternoon, while you were practicing, you heard laughs behind you. The Ragnarssons, princes of Kattegat, were watching you. Since that day, they helped you training and fast you became really good at this. Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd treated you like a close friend and you saw in them the brothers you never had. As for Ivar, it was deadly complicated. At the beginning, he did not like you at all, always mocking you, telling you how bad you were or how your body was not fitted to be a warrior. He was hurting your feeling but you had never showed it. One day, you had enough and challenged him. Unfortunately, you lost the fight but it was enough to show him that you were not just a poor girl trying desperately to become a fighter. Since that day, he was more careful with his words; he even helped you and showed you some tricks. With time, you both fell for each other.
Luckily, I’ve never written a story for Gladio, which means, I’m fresh full of ideas for him! :3 This is meant for female readers mostly since the request was for Gladio’s Girlfriend… And my mistake, I made Gladio break up with Reader.
Almost done with requests. Holy shit. I’m putting up a limit next time, lol.
I couldn’t get it to work at all posting directly to tumblr so I had to go through instagram, but here’s a video post!
So I’m sure you folks have seen me talk about shaving my legs with an axe before…. well I recently got myself a new karambit but this one is shaped like a little axe head instead of the standard claw with the sharpened inside edge. I haven’t shaved my legs in weeks so I’m getting a little fuzzy down there and I look super gross from my midnight run, but in spite of all that I felt like making this video! Maybe it’s the post-run endorphins? I dunno. Either way, DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME! I’m an expert with sharp objects and also an entire idiot.
Tldr; video of me shaving a patch of my leg with a handheld axe!
Yes, it was all the things I’d imagined it would be. Confident. Alert. Poised for combat.
But there was another element that took me off guard. Something bubbling happily away beneath the rationality. Nothing giddy like a dolphin’s playfulness. Something less simple.
Optimism. That was it. Intense optimism.
<Man! I had no idea.> I turned my head toward Ax. His eyes were smiling, the way they do.
<Keep in mind that you are experiencing instinct. The Andalite mind in its untrained state. Our culture teaches us to temper and control our optimism, to give equal value to realism. We have become, regrettably, a race of warriors. But that is in response to necessity. Down deeper, beneath that, I believe we are a peaceful species, in love with learning, not combat. But to learn - and to fight - you must be joyful.>
- Book #33: The Illusion, pg. 34 (by K.A. Applegate)
* big brother Ubbe
* always tells you what to do because every time he thinks he can get away with it
* “You’re not my father, Ubbe. If you keep going, I’ll hardly consider you a friend.”
* “Of course you would. You can’t get rid of me.”
* “You’re like a rash. Goes away, and comes back.”
* dad jokes.
* dirty jokes.
* stupid jokes.
* him bringing you back things from a raid cause he missed you
* him confiding in you but not bearing his heart
* (I was gonna say he’d be jealous, but I don’t think that’d be true cause he shares his wife with his brother…so…)
* him giving you his jacket/cloak whenever you’re cold
* play fighting
* that turns into actual fighting because someone always takes it too far
* getting into trouble all the time
* “Just do it.”
* “Hvitserk, I’m not five.”
* “Just do it. It’ll be funny.”
* getting drunk
* do reckless things
* like hurling axes at each other’s heads or others
* going fishing
* splashing each other so much you’re soaked so why not just go for a swim
* skinny dippy is a norm so I’m gonna say drying on the sand with nothing on would be likely to happen
* very friendly
* come on its Hvitserk
* more than likely getting him in a bad mood but on the rear occasion where he is happy
* you go down to the beach or go for a walk
* talk about everything and nothing at all
* very poetic in the sense that it’s platonic
* enjoying each other’s company
* helping him when he has a break down
* defending him to Sigurd
* getting tipsy at the waters edge and giggling over everything
* splashing him with water cause you know he can’t really do anything back
* “You did that on purpose, didn’t you, Y/N?”
* Shrugs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
* “I will get a bucket, and I will tip it on you’re head when you’re sleeping.”
* being that comfortable with each other that he jokes about not being able to walk
* “Yeah? You and what legs?”
* him leaping towards you and scooping up some water from the beach and spraying you with it
* “I’ll find a way.”
* “I’m shivering in my boots.”
* braiding his hair
* helping him groom and look after his horse
Q: I have a philosophy question that could actually be answered in cosmere:
Ship of Theseus in cosmere. If I went and replaced every part of the ship, would it still - Cognitively - be the same thing?
What if I replaced everything and made a second ship out of the parts from the first one? What could somebody watching all of that from Shadesmar tell me?
A: You’re right, part of the design of the cosmere (which has some deep roots in classical philosophy) was an attempt to answer the Ship of Theseus question.
In the cosmere, part of the Cognitive–and even spiritual–aspect of a thing (particularly if it isn’t sentient) is delineated by the way that thinking beings define it. Per the old joke about the axe, if you replace your axe head and think of the new axe as “Your Axe,” then the cognitive and spiritual aspects of that thing will grow to reflect that.
If you replaced every part of your ship, and gave the sailors time to sail it, thinking of it as the same ship–it would become the same ship.
Summary: The Company thinks you’re a man so when they find out that you’re not, one dwarf isn’t too pleased.
Warnings: Swearing. Multiple short time skips so it might be a jumbled mess, there is a part where some might get offended: please don’t. I didn’t mean it like that.
Pairing: Dwalin x Reader
Word Count: 2,844
A/N: Holy shit this was longer than I expected. I didn’t expect it to be this long, but as I kept writing, I had a hard time finding a way to end it so this happened. This is probably the longest one shot I’ve ever written. @fandomnationwhore I do hope that this is what you wanted. IF it’s not, let me know and I’ll write another one. Its so bad lmfao
Also, I don’t know if you guys realize this but my requests are always open lmfao
the evening was beautiful. the stars and moon shining brightly over the ocean, and your skin. your princes came home from a long raid today.
they had been gone for months on end, it worried you, not being able to hear from them, if they were okay.
but they made it home safely.
you smiled upon hearing everyone laugh and cheer for the sons of ragnar. bjorn, ubbe, hvitserk, sigurd, and ivar.
you gazed at him from across the room, the candles flickering brightly in his eyes, perfectly showing the mad and darkness withen them.
when he felt your gaze he immediately caught your eyes. his lips quirked up into a deep smirk as he stared at your body which was barely covered by anything at all.
you gasped lowly as he started sucking on his bottom lip.
he graped his mug of wine tightly in his hands, his eyes practically undressing you.
and you let him.
you and ivar were……well, you didn’t exactly know what.
you had grown up hating each other, you still did, but, before he left all those months back, something had changed.
a deep lust was present before he got on that boat. everytime he stared at you, everytime you accidently brushed up against each other.
something, had changed.
you hadn’t spoken to him yet, you hadn’t wanted to. you spoke to his brothers, yes. but facing him would be harder then any battle you’d been in.
one night, a week prior to his leaving, he found you a moment after you had pleasured yourself. still wet and writhing. he crawled up your furs and
laid his head against your shaking thigh, and slowly dipped his long, thick fingers inside your heat. you allowed his fingers to slip inside with a sharp moan.
that night was still heavily burnt into your mind. he had made you cum, not once, not twice, but three times. with just his fingers.
he had wanted to learn to pleasure a woman, and you were more then welcome to aid him in his learning. then you both went silent for a week,
you both never even said goodbye when he left, just long and lustfilled stares were shared that day. you sighed. and grabbed another mug full of ale.
trying hard not to look at him. but you could feel his eyes burning into the back of your skull. you were sad that you didn’t say goodbye to him when he left.
but the past is in the past, you thought whilst taking another sip of ale. suddenly you felt an arm go across your shoulder. you looked up and seen ubbe lothbrok smiling down drunkly at you.
“hello, ubbe” you giggled as he almost stumbled on to you. he laughed and started to pet at your hair. “hello, pretty, pretty girl”.
you knew ubbe wouldn’t try anything with you, you and him were closer then any brother or sister. he loved you and you him.
“what is such a pretty girl doing by herself?” he slurred lightly taking a large gulp of his drink. you couldn’t help but let your eyes flicker to ivar.
who was watching the both of you with a hard glare. ubbe took notice to this and snorted loudly, some of his drink dripping down his chin.
“aaahh. i see” he teased squeezing you closer to him. you looked at him confused “see what?” you questioned. he leaned in to your ear and whispered
“i thought ivars love was one sided, but i guess i was wrong”. he walked away from you, almost skipping. you grabbed his hand and brought him closer to you before he could leave.
“what do you mean?”. he laughed loudly almost spilling his drink “i feel you becoming wet as we speak about him, love” his words made you blush mad.
“you know, he touched himself quite frequntly on that boat, (y/n). he never did that until he was away with you that one night” ubbe said tapping his chin acting as if he was in deep thought.
you groaned lowly and squeezed your eyes shut. you know nothing could get past the second oldest. ubbe forced you to look at him.
“i’d make a move, love. now. before you regret something. and i’d better make a move also or ivar will strike me dead with his eyes” ubbe said, spitting out the last words
then ran over to margarethe, sweeping her into his arms with a loud yell.
ubbes words sunk in, but how?, how could you approach ivar now?. currently he was surrounded by the biggest men in kattegat, all of them asking about the raid and win.
with a deep sadness in your heart, you left the hall.
the beaches sand was soft between your toes as you walked along the water. the bottom of your dress was completely soaked, but you could care less.
you looked like something from a different planet. the way the moon reflected off your head made an almost golden halo around you, your white dress blew about your body, and hugged your figure perfectly.
you stopped and stared out at the water, which looked to inviting for its own good. you gently made your way into the icy water.
you took in a deep inhail of breath as the water reached your waist. you could feel the fish under the water swarm your feet and legs, you closed your eyes and
pointed your face towards the sky. the wind around you made lovely goosebumps swarm your skin. faintly you could hear the sound of a beautiful norse song being played.
you couldn’t help but start to sway your hips to the sound. you raised your arms high and twirled your whole body in the water. your hair flew around in the wind and flowed down your shoulders and back.
you bit your lip and started dipping your backside in the water, the action making you gasp and do it again. what you didn’t know was there was a pair of excited eyes watching you as you danced.
when you were tiered you decided to walk back to shore, the cold air on your now damp skin making your nipples erect and skin tightning.
you stopped mid stride when you heard the sound of brush being tampered with. you stood perfectly still for a moment ignoring the way your body was starting to shake from the cold.
you then shook it off and was about to walk forward until an axe flew past your head and into the wood of the boat behind you.
you were alone and no weapon in your grasp, the axe was to tightly lodged into the wood for you to grab. you ran. of course running into the woods was the worst idea
but you had to get away. sharp branches near by scratched your pure and untouched skin as you ran by, you nearly tripped over a log but managed to get over it and run even faster then before.
you clutched the bottom of your dress tightly as the woods became more dense and thick. thankfully the moon was still present through the trees, allowing
some light to guide you. suddenly you could see a small clearing with a creek coming up close. you smiled and giggled doing a small spin mid run.
it felt good.
just as you were about to make it, something caught your foot. causing you to trip. your head and body hit the hard earth beneathe you causing the breath to be knocked from you.
you turned over on to your back, you seen a tree root wrapped around your foot.
it was silent in the cold night air, just the sounds of your harsh pants were echoing off the trees. suddenly you could hear slithering on the ground, crunching the twigs and leaves.
but what could you do?, it was dark, and you were stuck. you laid there quietly closing your eyes tightly and bit your lip.
crunch, crack, crunch, crack. it was getting closer.
then it was all quiet again-
“what do we have here?
PART2 ???? IF SO LET ME KNOW and if not feel free to request anything you want, lots of love and thanks from me<3