#Figured out that it wasn't for him so he went back to his pagan ways and literal idol worship

[talesofwhimsy]

I'm 100 pages into Moby Dick and they just got on the goddamn boat

This book actually kinda fucks hard it's great?

[paranormalactivity5]

LUPRICALIA

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Summary: Eddie leads you to believe he doesn't like valentines, when its quite the opposite, he even plans a whole cute day based on old pagan lupricalia traditions. Eddie munson x fem!reader

Notes: the reader is alternative my fics are x chubby!reader unless stated otherwise. Readers' hair is teased/messy in a cute way, please let me know if this makes the fic uninclusive. For the fit think Misa Amanes pink outfit with the heart but red and and one piece. Cross posted on tumblr and wattpad under paranormalactivity/paranormalactivity5g

A/N: sorry for bad writing english IS my first language. As a pagan and overall spooky girl you know I had to make this my Valentine fic. Although no magick occurs in the fic pagan rituals are discussed. Sorry i never post, writers block is pretty much my natural state

Warnings: none just fluff, but there are references to sexual acts and swearing ig, bad writing, loooong paragraphs sometimes, not proof read WC: 1.5k a shortiee

Eddie Munson was a very observant person, and he prided himself on that, but you didn't have to be observant to notice the change in his girlfriend. It wasn't anything bad just…..different than her usual attire. Instead when she walked up to the bench in the woods where they usually met, a red dress with a heart cut out on the chest adorned her body, a chain hanging loosely on the swell of her waist, paired with black fishnets, a black undershirt that covered her arms and had been torn perfectly, along with black go-go boots and teased hair. She walked up with a pretty smile painted on her red stained lips 

“Hi baby” you announced yourself, the boy got up to greet you bringing you into a tight hug and swaying back and forth “Hi princess” in his smooth yet grovely voice that always made your heart flutter. “So not that you don't look gorgeous….but, what's with the getup?”  “uhh it's almost Valentine's Day?” you replied as if it was obvious “And?” “And? What do mean and?” you said exasperated by him already “And how does it almost being valentines Day warrant this?” “Because baby it's a beautiful day, a day all about celebrating love, don't you wanna celebrate our love?” she went on teasily, looking at him through her lashes causing him to get distracted for a minute, his eyes falling on the small heart cut out on the chest, allowing him to see the tops of your plump breasts but as his eyes went back up they caught on your half of the matching guitar pick necklaces you wore and it reminded him of the topic, love. “I do that every day!” he protested “Fine, you don't have to love it, just let me have it.” you replied kind of disappointed, why could he not get with the of having a day about yourselves and your love? But oh he could and he was going to, you just didn't know it yet.

Eddie was trying to figure out how to surprise you on Valentine's while also making it more personal, not just store bought chocolates and a small bear when he was reading the Hawkins post and saw a column speaking of the horrors of an old pagan holiday lupricalia perfect. Now, while it was a struggle to find reliable information on it in the small conservative town of Hawkins he finally found some information he was immediately ecstatic at the idea. A lot of the traditions weren't doable, things like animal sacrifice and running around naked whipping women with animal hide, but the other ones, feast, and sex? Yeah, he could do that. So he took out some of his rainy day money, booked a reservation at one of the nicer spots in Hawkins, and began planning

Ever the overthinker eddies not caring replayed in your head for the last 13 days until the day before Valentine's. Did he really think celebrating love was stupid? If so could he not at least pretend for you? Meanwhile, it was absolutely killing Eddie to pretend he didn't care, he could tell it was bothering him, and knowing you were upset because of him hurt, hopefully tomorrow will make up for it.

You awoke at around 10 AM to the smell of pancakes, which confused you because Eddie is many things, but a cook is not one. When you got out of bed walking out of the bedroom into the kitchen of the Munson trailer you quickly corrected yourself, you were smelling burnt pancakes. You stood at the enge of the hallway looking at your man listening to his string of curses for making concrete pancakes until he noticed you “Baby!” he almost shouted as you startled him “Nooooo you weren't supposed to wake up until the pancakes were ready……or I made a second batch” he chuckled awkwardly at the last part but you didn't care about that, you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, gave him a quick peck and when you pulled back you told him “I dont care about that honey, I care that you tried…..and convinced me that you aren't just a heartless man who hates valentines” He giggled into your neck “well I hope I can do more convincing with everything I have planned today” when he said this you immediately kissed him deeply, something about him going out of his way to plan a day with you always seems to get you going “mmph” he groaned into the clip and then pulled away “as much as I love this…thats for later” “so, whats all the fun planned today?” you questioned “well, while we are celebrating i do think that valentines day is a little generic, i decided to make it a bit more personal” you nodded along, already loving this “so i found out the history of valentines day and it comes from a pagan tradition called Lupricalia, and i figure thats more fitting for us, so i figured out the ways they celebrated and fit it into our world” god you loved this man “So they used to have animal sacrificesand obviously we cant do that so i figured we can go see the new nightmare on elm street, seems horrific enough, and then we feast at the marriot on 34th street, and then the one thing that hasent changed, we have hot, passionate sex” he clasps him hands together and all you can think about is how much you love him “i love you so much Eddie Munson” the feeling overwhelmed you so much you just had to voice it.  the cutest smile splayed across his face “i love you too princess, now go get ready!” he spoke excitedly and swatted your body as you walked back into the bedroom.

You got yourself ready by putting on a black bustier top with lace trim, a red velvet skirt, and a belt with a bat buckle adorning your waist, again paired with your black gogo boots, and makeup done perfectly when you were ready about an hour later then Eddie and you walked out into the living room where he was sat, he just starred at you, which began to make you nervous until he spoke “god your so fucking pretty” his words instantly made you feel shy “like I wish you could like, be in my head and see you walk into the room,...it would change your life” he always managed to make you feel like a giggly little girl with your first crush “you look very handsome yourself sir” you walked up to him and laid your hand on his bicep, and his face immediately went up in flames, he knew you were easy to fluster, but you knew he was too. As you walked out the door he quickly walked in front of you so he could reach the old van first and open your door “Your chariot awaits madame” in his best British accent “Why thank you kind sir” you replied in your own

When you arrived at the theatre for the screening of Elm Street 3 you got your popcorn and made your way in. About 2 hours later you come out, the movie was pretty good, and while some would argue that it's not a Valentine's movie you think it was perfect. When you arrived at the restaurant it was a bit more on the fancy side, you wondered about the possible cost of this, Eddie could sense this and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

The food was absolutely delectable and it got you wondering what dessert might be like “You know what sounds amazing?” you asked “What?” “dessert” “Ohhhhh…you know what sounds even better? Free desert.” you were confused for a moment when he started to slip one of your rings off your finger but when he got down on one knee, you got what was happening here “y/n l/n, my beautiful girl, my time with you has been the best of my life, you make me see the world in a new way. I love you in ways I never thought imaginable, every day when I look at you, I love you more, which I never think is possible but it always is, will you do me the honor, and let me be your husband?” you started fake crying, which some of it was real due to his words and got up from your seat with a loud yes then kissed him proudly. The other people in the restaurant clapped a little and within 5 minutes there was a slice of chocolate cake on your table. You and Eddie giggled to each other while eating the dessert until you looked up from the cake and saw him looking at you in which a way Aphrodite herself would point and smile “You know I meant every word and one day I really am gonna ask you, I mean there will be a lot more words and a lot more crying but one day…I’m gonna put a ring on your finger..if you’ll so have me.” “of course I'll have you Eddie” You both awkwardly leaned over the table and kissed. As you pulled back you noticed the mark your red lipstick left and went to wipe it away “Leave it.” he protested

When you got home that night and walked into the trailer you pulled him in by his belt loops “Thank you, Eddie, this has truly been amazing.” “no need to thank me, I enjoyed it just as much” You kissed him with all the passion and love that had built up through the night “Now..” you spoke softly “time for some of that hot, passionate sex you were talking about earlier” he grinned devilishly.

A/N: girl you sucked the SOUL outta him that night. Dw he sucked your soul too.

[lady0ctavia]

As We Ponder Belief

(2p!Prussia x Reader) - Chapter 43

Note: This story is based vaguely during the mid 1200s in Eastern Europe where the Teutonic Knights fought the Northern Crusades to try and convert the native pagan population to Christianity. As a result, this story will have heavy religious themes all throughout. It should also be noted that, while referencing real-life events and locations, I am not striving for full historical accuracy. This is for the sake of the story I am telling.

Once again, this series will have heavy religious themes throughout, including discussions of bible stories, doctrine, and scripture verses, as well as critical analysis of Christian doctrine and beliefs. So, if you don't like that, you will want to skip out on this.

The days dragged on as (y/n), Gillen, and Gilbert made their way through the vast, grassy countryside. The sun bore down on them, the late summer heat making things hot and uncomfortable. (y/n) shuddered every time she felt her clothes stick to her skin due to the sweat. The trio all wore their cloaks and hoods, hoping to keep the sun off of them. And while it avoided sunburn, (y/n) didn't enjoy the feeling of her black cloak sticking to her arms, and the hood to her face.

Summer should be ending soon, right? Surely this should be the worst of it before things begin to cool down. She thought to herself as she wiped sweat off her brow. She seldom kept track of the days since she and Gillen had left the fortress. With so much happening and on her mind, she neglected to observe the weather.

It had been a few days since Gilbert joined them on their journey to Österreich. And in those three days, they all made idle chatter. Most of it being between Gillen and Gilbert, as (y/n) was too exhausted from the heat to speak. Gillen had spent the last while updating his brother on him and (y/n)'s journey. In return, Gilbert gave the couple information about the goings on at Malbork Fortress. As well as the state he left it in.

"The majority of the men were shocked, though a handful weren't too surprised. You two weren't as sly as you thought you were," Gilbert laughed heartily, riding alongside them.

"Well, I think (y/n) and I exercised a healthy amount of caution. Don't you?" Gillen declared before turning to (y/n) for her input.

"I suppose," The maiden gave him a tired shrug in response.

"Oh please," Gilbert scoffed. "Not only were you two spending so much time together, but when you," He gestured to Gillen. "Came back to the fortress and I told you what happened to (y/n), you were pretty quick to mount a rescue mission. Hell, you even tried to head out that evening." He chuckled.

"I was worried sick! As were you!" Gillen snapped back.

"I know I was, but your reaction at the moment was very telling to the other knights. Not to mention the way you rode off by yourself into the woods to save her once we arrived," Gilbert commented.

"That's because some pagan, would-be groom carried her off," Gillen argued back.

"I don't doubt it. But I must say," His face twisted into a smirk. "You two were in those woods for quite a while before coming back out," He teased, his words slow and deliberate so as to imply something. An underlying meaning that certainly didn't go over (y/n)'s head.

"Oh, shut up, Gilbert. Nothing happened back there," She rolled her eyes.

"Really?" Gilbert went form teasing to genuinely confused. "Seriously, nothing? From the way you two were blushing on the way out of the forest, followed by how you two acted days after, I figured there was more going on. A lot of us did."

"A lot of us?" Gillen gasped, his breath sharp. Gilbert gave him a knowing look.

"Like I said, you two weren't that sly," He chuckled, shaking his head.

(y/n) and Gillen were silent for the next few moments. If (y/n) wasn't so exhausted from the heat, she'd probably have enough energy to give a snarky comeback. But at the moment her brain was drying up in the sumer sun.

With eyes growing heavy, she began to nod off. When the brothers continued their conversation, she only caught little pieces here and there. Their words overall began to fade away as she felt herself falling asleep sitting up, only to be awoken sometime later by Gillen's voice.

"Hold on a moment, you said you weren't taking us back to Malbork Fortress," Gillen blurted out, giving his brother an accusatory stare. Meanwhile, the noise startled (y/n) awake.

"You're right, I'm not. However, Captain Nikolaus insisted that I bring you two back," Gilbert explained.

"Wait... Correct me if I'm wrong, but does this mean that Captain Nikolaus is under the impression that you are returning to the fortress with us in tow?" Gillen narrowed his eyes.

"I'd assume so, ja," He shrugged, looking ahead. Overhearing their conversation, (y/n) decided to chime in after fully waking up.

"Gilbert, I would have to say that worries me," She mumbled in her sleepy stupor. "Given your description of him going completely mask-off when Gillen and I left, I get the feeling he sounds unstable."

"If you are worried about him sending more knights after us, don't be," Gilbert reassured. "He's prideful, but not completely stupid. I think he knows when to cut his losses."

Gillen simply grunted in agreement, before turning to (y/n). "It looks like you almost fell asleep for a moment there. Are you feeling alright, Engel?" His tone was soft, as a part of him lamented perhaps not being attentive enough to his betrothed.

"I-I'm fine," She mumbled.

"No. You're dehydrated," He observed with worry. Reaching behind him with one hand into the cart, he grabbed a canteen. Opening it, he was disappointed to find it empty. Looking to Gilbert as if for help, the newly minted former knight shook his head.

"Sorry, my canteen is empty as well," He lamented.

Wearily, (y/n) leaned on Gillen's shoulder, becoming nauseas as her tongue felt as dry as wood. Feeling a headache coming on, she closed her eyes, choosing to focus on Gillen's presence as she began to drift away.

(y/n) awoke to the sensation of weightlessness. However, it wasn't the feeling of flying but rather being carried. The feeling of arms keeping her suspended in the air initially baffled her before she felt herself being lowered onto the ground. Onto what felt like a bed of grass. The cool sensation felt amazing on her skin. Meanwhile, she heard the inviting sound of running water.

Opening her eyes, she winced at the shining sun, her vision blurry. The pain only being lessened when a dark figure blocked its blinding rays. As her vision cleared up, she could make out the figure of Gillen kneeling by her side, hovering over her. His blue eyes bore into hers. If her headache wasn't still pounding inside her skull, she would have smiled.

Gillen took a rag and dipped it into the river, careful to wring it out before gingerly placing in on (y/n)'s forehead. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, feeling the cold water help diminish her pain. She then felt herself prompted to sit up just a little as Gillen placed a hand on her lower back, pushing upward. Carefully, he raised the newly filled canteen up to her lips, urging her to drink.

"Nice and slow," He advised.

After taking a few sips of water and feeling her energy being restored, she grabbed the container and took several gulps. Handing the canteen back to Gillen, she collapsed onto the ground, taking a deep breath before slowly letting it out again. Her movement prompted the rag to fall off, leading to Gillen placing it back on her forehead.

"That feel better?" He asked, earning a small nod from (y/n).

"Yes, it is. Thank you, darling," She thanked him.

"Or course, Engel," He whispered. After pressing a soft, affectionate kiss on her cheek, he got up. "I'm going to water our horse and refill the canteen. I'll be back in a moment."

Murmuring in acknowledgement, she felt her fiancé leave in a different direction. Closing her eyes, she listened to the melody of the river. Quiet ripples rolling gently over rocks and pebbles. The peace was serene, and it only got better as she felt her nausea and headache subside.

She wasn't sure how long she was laying there before she decided to sit up, but when she did, she was surprised to see Gilbert sitting just ahead of her, staring out onto the water. Casually, he took a rock and carelessly flung it into the river. The resulting splash sending water droplets to scatter across (y/n)'s face.

"Oh!" She gasped, alerting Gilbert.

"Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?" He apologized.

"No, you didn't. You did surprise me a little though."

Gilbert nodded, his face appearing sullen and down. Like something was on his mind. It was quite the contrast to his humorous behavior earlier. He was clearly upset about something, but (y/n) couldn't tell what.

"Gilbert, are you feeling well?" She prodded.

"More or less," He shrugged his shoulders to either side, "(y/n), do you have a minute? I need to talk to you about something." He turned his head in her direction but kept his eyes elsewhere. As if he were afraid to meet her gaze.

"Uh, sure. What is it?" (y/n) offered her ears to listen, her curiosity piqued. The reality of this situation was not lost on her.

This is the first time we've been alone together since we spoke in the hall back at the fortress. We haven't had a one-on-one conversation since. That feels so long ago.

She still remembered how Gilbert went off on her after her final meeting with the captain. How was angry at her for seeing Gillen and their budding romance. And how he begged of her to not cause his younger brother to go away, as well as trying to show concern for her individually. It was all such an odd conversation looking back.

"I... I wanted to apologize for what I said to you at the stables that night. Just before you and Gillen left. I was upset and..." Gilbert sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "No, I shouldn't come up with any excuses. How I treated you was a wrong. And what I said was wrong. And I'm sorry. And I'm also sorry for talking about you and Gillen to the captain behind your backs. That wasn't good either. And I'm sorry. For everything." His voice was low, the raspiness barely there and the volume barely audible.

"Gilbert, it's fine. Thank you for apologizing, but I can assure you, I'm not upset," (y/n)'s voice was soft and gentle. Surprised by her forgiveness, Gilbert looked up. His purplish red eyes appearing hopeful, though tainted with regret.

"Are you sure about that?" He pressed, as if unable to believe she'd forgive him after everything he'd said and done.

"Of course I am. You're my friend, Gilbert. As a matter of fact, you were the first real friend I made after my village was destroyed."

Gilbert seemed surprised. "Really? Not Gillen?"

"Well, yes," (y/n) gave a light shrug. "Before me and Gillen started to bond, you were one of the first people to truly talk to and get to know me. Gillen was so quiet those first few days, but you? You welcomed me to the fortress almost immediately. So, I guess what I'm trying to say here is, thank you."

Gilbert smiled shaking his head and looking back to the water. "Here I am apologizing for insulting you and talking about you behind your back, and yet you decide to respond with gratitude for my friendship. You're weird, (y/n)."

"Guilty!" She laughed, putting her hands up in the air by her head, as if offering a surrender. After her giggling died down, she lowered her hands. All was quiet before she added on. "And if it helps you at all, Gillen gave me some insight as to why you were upset. So I understand now."

"Huh, what did he tell you?" Gilbert sounded unimpressed.

"He told me about a girl named Elizabeta."

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

I get that this was probably a boring chapter, but this is necessary for introducing Gilbert back into the plot, as well as setting up some more events down the line. More interesting chapters (and new characters) are coming soon! As always, please let me know your thoughts!

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Silver (my OC's) connections with the other ghosts.

Taking a page out of @idiotwithanipad 's book for my oc.

Mary

They had something of a rocky start, Silver openly identifying as a Witch stirred up a lot of conflicting feelings in Mary as she believed the young girl worked for Satan. At first she refused to be in the same room as the girl and would constantly be muttering and crossing herself in fear of her. She nearly went as far as to try to use her ghost powers to burn the teenager while she slept before having a last minute breakthrough and realising she was punishing Silver for her own unresolved trauma. She felt awful afterwards and realised Silver was just a kid and promised to try to understand and listen to her. Silver was never close to her mum in life, her dad who she was close to died when she was young and she yearned for a mother figure. As Mary took her under her wing and showed an interest in her beliefs and practices, despite their differences, she felt the acceptance she'd always desired. The two would realise they had other things in common too, both being autistic with certain tics and habits people thought weird, they both loved cursing out menfolk - dead and alive - together, and they confided in each other about their love of other women. Mary confided in Silver about Annie more than she had with anyone. When Mary left it definitely left a huge hole in Silver's heart and the ghosts have noticed since that her constant energetic and positive highs tend to crashland into tearful meltdowns or shutting herself off much more often. She nearly retreated into the shell she'd hidden in as a younger kid - that is until Amy died.

Robin

Robin is the ghost Silver is closest to without Mary around. He was the one to watch her die, he's the one who carried her to her bed of flowers and kept a vigil on her as she slept, and he calls her Moonah Girl. She reminds him of his sister Nah, a sickly girl who he also tried to revive with moonah water and who his father gave the same nickname. As he's a fellow "Pagan" who loves the moon, as well as Silver gladly taking on the role of Auntie to little Kya, they're incredibly close. Like a big brother, he can be annoying, but is super protective of her and sees it as his role to carry her to bed when her "cycle" is up and she falls asleep away from the woods. They often talk about Mary together and he's happy for Silver to take comfort in his furs when she needs to. His devotion to her has only heightened since as he made a promise to Mary to take care of "her little'en". Despite being a big silly, Silver knows how wise he can be and respects him for that and does not take kindly to anyone disregarding him as a "dumb savage".

Amy

As close as she is to Robin and other members of the Button House gang, Silver felt rather lost and dejected after losing Mary. The way her curse meant that she often missed out on big events never really hit her till that moment she woke to find Mary had left while she slept and she detached herself a little, especially when Alison moved out too, thinking it wasn't worth getting too close to anyone. Then Amy came along, the same age as her yet an entire generation ahead. A shared love of alt. fashion and music and horror films. Amy's sarcastic and sullen moods seemed to revive Silver's need to be hyper and positive again, to help her new dead friend find the fun in being a ghost wherever possible and did her best to help her mix with the others, while also fully enjoying watching Amy curse them out when they deserved it. Her foul mouth reminds her so much of when Mary would snap and never fails to make her smile.

Humphrey

Like the others, Silver is guilty of not spending much time with Humphrey to begin with. Not out of any desire to avoid him, his head was often missing somewhere whenever she was awake and often times she'd forget he existed until stumbling across him, in which she would at least pick him up and try to chat with him and put him back on his body where possible. They get along well enough, even have a laugh, but it isn't really until Amy dies that Silver comes to see another side to Humphrey. Seeing him take on a fatherly role melts her heart and sees him as more than just "the head bit of the lordy bloke" as Mary once joked. Since then Silver feels more comfortable talking to Humphrey about deeper things and worries she has, especially as she comes to realise they share a similar difficulty with often being left out of things, forgotten, or stuck in one place and missing out on major events. Humphrey might not understand her like Mary and Robin, but he tries his best and has become more of an uncle figure for her, and is grateful Amy has her for a best friend.

Kitty

If Amy is the grumpy shadow to Silver's giddy moonlight, Kitty is the sunshine to both of them. Chances are if Amy is spending time with Humphrey and Robin is with Julian then Silver will be hanging with Kitty. Even though her tastes have changed, she indulges Kitty in dancing to Spice Girls and other pop songs from the 90s, as well as reading romances together (so long as they're either sapphic or some kind of fantasy romance). Despite being scared of them to start, Silver had helped Kitty to appreciate gore films as it turns out the Georgian has a fascination with human anatomy that is borderline creepy. Kitty doesn't really understand Silver's witchcraft but might ask her to do a love spell or, that one time, an attempt to bind Alison to the house to stop her from leaving. Silver was the only one to help Kitty through her feelings after losing Alison, to help her get over resenting Mia and understanding it would be for the best. She's protective towards Kitty in much the same way Robin is for her, but tries not to baby or talk down to her like the others do.

Julian

The ghost who Silver clashes with the most. They only have three shared interests; getting high, women, and Robin - who refuses to get involved in any of their arguments over politics like poverty, immigration, Section 28, classism, misogyny and other things Silver hates the Tory party for. She can't wrap her head around chess as much as Robin tries, however as Silver died with her Nokia in her pocket she regularly challenges Julian to Tetris and Snake to try to beat each other's scores. As much as Julian scoffs at Silver for being a Hippie Lefty Snowflake, he's very quick to change his tone when Amy appears in the doorway and just concedes the Pagan has a point.

Pat

Silver has a soft spot for Pat, and he often calls her "petal". They have a shared love of the outdoors and nature, she understands his preference to stick to a routine, and they often have the same positive energy and she likes how he tries to get everyone to work and play together. Sometimes he can be a bit too 80s for her in terms of being old fashioned and a little patronising but he reminds her a little of her dad, even though they don't quite have much of a parent/child relationship, she mostly respects him more than most of the other men, which might come from the fact Mary was fond of him too.

Cap

Like Amy, Silver isn't really a fan of Cap's bossiness and desire to be seen as a figure of authority and respect without really earning it in her opinion. Next to Julian, she clashes with him the most and he often addresses her as Young Lady (derogatory). She especially gets angry at him talking down to her fellow women in the house, especially Kitty and Amy, but also Robin or Pat. However much like how Amy brought out another side to Humphrey, Cap's growing closeness to Kitty and him being more comfortable in himself has changed her feelings towards him. She empathised with his struggles with his sexuality, even if the situations were different, and Robin may have had a few talks with him to help him feel sympathy for her situation with her sleeping curse and her meltdowns. Sometimes Silver will agree to join him on a morning run as she doesn't sleep during her cycles so she's the only one fully awake when he gets up. He's always a little miffed that he can't outrun her no matter how much he trains.

Thomas

Kinda like with Julian, Thomas' constant obsessions with women often bring out rants from Silver about Thomas treating women like objects or works of art rather than respecting boundaries. However he has come to point out this is a bit of a "what were YOU doing at the Devil's sacrament?" case, as Silver seems to always be close to pretty living women as Thomas. The fact he's not a complete perv or sexist pig like Julian means she's a little nicer to him but they don't have too much in common. Except when Silver begins to fall in love with the greenskeeper Dani, then she and Thomas share the pains of ghost pining, and Thomas helps her to think of what poems she would write to express her feelings to Dani if she could. Sometimes if Silver is really low and wants space she'll go to the bottom of the lake and if Thomas is already there brooding then they'll just lay together, sometimes in silence, other times making up tragic love stories for the fish they watch.

Fanny

The ghost that Silver is the least close to, similar to Cap in that she can't stand overbearing authority figures. Part of her has sympathy for Fanny that she was clearly constrained as a woman of her time but Fanny's constant picking at Silver's clothes, religion and unladylike behavior doesn't give her much motivation to get closer to her. They only ever bond when watching Loose Women together in honour of Mary, and when they walk on the grounds together, Fanny watches Silver insult all the men playing and is secretly amused while pretending to find it scandalous. Silver also once caught Fanny trying to skinny dip before her clothes reappeared and never let's her forget it, even offering to do a "naked moon ritual" with her if she wants which always makes Fanny quickly exit the room red-faced.

Bonus - Alison

Silver gets on really well with Alison as they're both millennials born within a few years of each other and they bond over the same technology, shows and movies they grew up with. Alison is a lot more open to witchcraft after learning ghosts are real and often does spells and rituals on Silver's behalf which she finds weird but kinda fun (especially after a couple glasses of wine). She might have even tried to ask Silver on how to hex and curse people before Silver reminded her that her Wiccan Code forbids her from causing harm....however as Alison isn't Wiccan, she can go nuts and curse Barclay all she wants. Silver really appreciates what Alison does for all of them, especially when Alison decorates her forest bed with extra flowers and statues of her patron deities and even a sketch of her to make it a proper memorial. When Mia is born, Silver is thrilled to be an aunt again, even if there's only a handful of times the child sees them until she grows up. Alison is grateful that whenever Silver is awake she will gladly lead Thomas away by the ear whenever he's getting too close and annoying.

[echologname]

Well, He let me go off on my own and it was pretty bad. This was start of 2018 and I was uncomfortable, depressed and miserable. I knew something was very wrong with the choice I made and once I was on the dark path, I told myself it's fine to keep going, there's a lot of people who live happy lives without religion or spirituality, right? And once I was on that path, it was easier to just keep going but my suffering in my head and heart just got worse and worse. My soul CRAVED it, but I still felt uncomfortable with going back to God after how I lost faith so, I found paganism and thought, why not try other flavors of spirituality?, These people have their hearts in the right place by connecting with nature, maybe it's wrong to judge them? Well, that hyperinflation only lasted a little over a year but it feels like forever since I was trying to be my own strength, independent, carving my OWN destiny. I thought I was empowering myself by relying on my own strength. I thought I had finally put the broken pieces of myself back together but I was STILL unhappy. I didn't realize it but I really missed God, I missed His comfort and stability. However, I thought growing up was trying new things you never knew as a kid and figuring out who you are for yourself and no one else can say. I still really regret this time in my life but God still loved me and He was going to save me from my sin, suffering and The Enemy. I felt like I was just spiraling by the end of 2019 and it was harder to live any other way if I had to continue living the life I was the year before but the pandemic stopped the world. It forced me to quarantine for a year and do some serious reflection. It wasn't the greatest year, I went on this Veganism crusade and still had a lot of bitterness and fought with my mom but I was trying to put my heart in the right place by focusing on animals and nature and caring for them. Things were significantly better by 2021, I went back to school with a new career path and started reading my Bible and talking to God again just like sweet old times and it felt so natural. I was probably so uncomfortable before because I never stopped being a child of God, He never let me go completely, He watched out for me during this time. He saved me from my own horrible decisions (I was only 20, what did I know about being on my own in the world?) that could have literally killed me like getting hit by a car and other times when I ran into criminals on my own. (God sure warned us, we would be defenseless sheep lost in the woods and traumatized). So, I really don't appreciate being deceived like that, it was the sting of sin that led to more and more sin and suffering. I know, it seems obvious now but at the time, it wasn't and the whole time, I could have ended my journey into misery if I just looked for God again because it turns out, He was there the whole time.

I think I would have liked to be spared from that ordeal but God knows everything about how things will play out. He probably knew it would be a VERY good lesson and I would finally have a testimony story about His faithfulness and grace. Thing is, my life didn't have to be so turned upside down and inside out because God's ALWAYS with us and working on good things in our lives, so praise Him for even the smallest of blessings. He saw my troubled heart and head and was saddened because He loves me and doesn't want me to be tormented by demons any longer than I can stand.

Now I have beef with all evil spirits and see how important it is that we share our love for God because He triumphs over ALL the darkness.and pain a human could possibly go through.

I don't follow Him because I'm told to, it's because He LITERALLY saved me from so many dangers and loved me even when I was lost and confused and didn't trust Him. He's not great just because everyone says so, it's because He has a special path and connection with everyone He's set free. I don't need to see, hear or feel God, He communicates with me in countless other ways because with Him, there's no restrictions for stuff like that, unlike humans. Finally, The Bible is truest of true! It's unlike any other text because the power of God is with those words, no matter how much they've changed in translation. There were so many lies I started to believe and not knowing what was true confused me and made me feel like I was losing my mind. It took a while, but eventually, God broke all spells of deceit with His Word.

Next time God, please never give me free will, I seem to ALWAYS choose poorly because I'm imperfect and Your ways are ALWAYS higher but I appreciate that you love your people enough to respect us and not manhandle us and even let us go, at least for a little bit but you never left me alone, because You knew I would need you to intervene and that's when You stopped the world.

This always makes me so sad. And a little mad. When the ones who ignore the instructions He left - in the love letter He wrote for us - so that we would know how He created things to work correctly so we would know how to be safe - but then blame Him when things go wrong like it’s His fault.

When we go beyond that written guide we are on our own. And He let's us go off on our own if that's what we want to do, but He warned us because He knows more than us. If we reject those warnings because we think we are wiser than God we cannot blame Him for the way things turn out. I want the divine path because I know I am definitely not wiser than God.

[leelaihardly]

CH3. THAT STUPID F*CKING UGLY SWEATER

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

Some stars were on when they were on and off when they were off.

Rhett was no stranger to the biz. He had it on good confidence that the guy who played the Bible Man was no angel and the singing Psalmbook had shelled out a lot of cash to get certain mugshots out of the public eye.

Link Neal wasn't like that. His only vice was a tall glass of chocolate milk stirred with peanut butter in a spoon. He was never 'off.' He was never 'on.' He was just...himself, even when he said something odd he just owned it.

He talked to everyone with the same honesty. He stooped down to talk to kids eye-to-eye, something Rhett may or may not have said himself was 'for losers', laughing over buds with his beers. But if you had looked him in the eye then you'd have caught his lie. Nobody would have. Nobody looked at him, really looked at him the way Mister Neal did. Made him feel like a frog, his heart splayed open on a dissection table, wrists pinned and eyes glassy. He squirmed.

Currently Rhett was at the bodega a block from his apartment. There was no work today and he was out of dog treats so he figured he could spoil his princess a little since he had a steady gig now.

He was just wondering about whether he should spoil himself too and get some jumbo Drown-aroos for nostalgia sake, when a croaky voice behind him asked,

"Excuse me dear, could you reach those for me?"

Fully having accepted that his role in life was to double as an EZ Grabber he started turning around, but almost dropped his treats when he heard the unmistakable good-natured chuckle of his mentor

"No problemo, Madam."

he turned to see him handing a box of tissues from a top shelf to an old lady in bifocals.

"You need any help carrying all that?"

"Oh, no it's no trouble at all." she said,

and started in Rhett's direction with her little cart piled high, while Link went the other way.

Rhett ducked into the aisle he'd already gone through on impulse, watching his boss through the slats between two shelves. It felt wrong to spy but it felt wrong-er for him to even be here, outside of the studio. Aviators pushed up in his silvery streak and a brown leather jacket. A cotton shirt. No sweater.

This was like seeing God at the gas pump.

Suddenly Link turned so they were facing each other, separated by a wall of aisle. Rhett's hiding spot would have felt compromised if he didn't know the man to be easily absorbed into a task to the point of tuning out his surroundings.

Currently he was pouring over the cereals in front of him, eyebrows quizzical as he compared a box of Avocado Toast Crunch and Pagan Oats. Just then a tap on his left arm made him startle audibly and he turned around.

"Dearie, was that man who helped me- I'm sorry but my eyes aren't what they used to be- but was that the fellow from the TV program? Mister Neal? I wonder if I could trouble him for an autograph..."

she began fishing in her purse for a pen and craning her neck as if looking for some sign of him

"Oh my grandson is such a big fan!"

Rhett cringed, subconsciously glancing back to where he knew Link was, He had no experience with being a recognizable figure but he did know that Link looked awfully peaceful and was clearly not in TV-mode.

"Who? I'm not sure I-"

"Over there! I thought, no it couldn't be, his hair's too grey - but then I saw you watching him through the wall all star-struck and I knew I had it right the first time!"

Rhett paled. She was being so dang loud. He waved his hands in front of him defensively, trying to tamp down her excitement and looking over his shoulder to see if Link had caught that.

"No, Ma'am. No it's not- I thought that too but it's not him. It's not. Sorry."

"Oh," she said, stopping her pen hunt "ah well, thank you, sonny."

the woman appeared crestfallen, and was returning to her cart when a beaming Link Neal swooped over from behind a display.

"Are my ears burning or did I hear somebody's little grand is a big fan?"

Rhett stood on the sidelines, watched the man nod and 'oh?' and 'ah' as the woman went on and on, gesturing at a length of wallet photos of her various grandkids, nieces and nephews.

Then he watched Link produce a Mythical Valley postcard from seemingly out of nowhere, sign it with a flourish and exchange well wishes while scrawling a thoughtful comment to the paper. After he sent her on her way and waved at her as she turned down the aisle to the cashier he turned to face Rhett, who silently wished he could melt onto the floor and be mopped up, wrung out and sloshed down a gutter grate.

"Hey, Rhett." Link said, arms akimbo and leaning back against his cart. "You shop here too?"

"Hey," Rhett said. "uh, yeah, it's right near my apartment." Rhett froze momentarily as the thought of Link Neal seeing his apartment flashed through his mind but he shook it off.

"Oh?" Link said, "Well I just come here cause the Whole Foods never has the Crunch kind of my favorite cereal. But I don't see any here."

He scanned the aisle again, "Man, I hope they didn't recall that stuff. I know it has more sugar than both these combined. Maybe it's just the universe's way of saying I need to finally make the switch to somethin' more 'grown up'?" he said, adding scare quotes for effect.

Rhett couldn't believe it. Here he was in the wake of the most awkward experience he'd had since high school and Link was over here prattling on about his damn cereal like nothing had happened.

Rhett knew if that had been him back there, he'd have either shuffled out of there right quick so as to avoid the dreaded fan-interaction-before-9am or agreed to just sign but be falling asleep on himself the whole time as the old lady went on, listing her seemingly endless progeny.

What made this shaken-up seltzer can of a man so bubbly, so sincere so early in the morning? And did he shave his legs? Rhett's gaze had travelled down to where the cuffed chinos met the flat-top shoes, revealing an amount of ankle that felt indecent on a guy he'd only ever seen wearing layers.

His skin looked tanned, smooth. Naked.

He ripped his gaze away and something else caught his eye,

"Oh, here's one." he pointed at the very top shelf where a lone Raisin Crunch box was perched. Link's eyes lit up.

"Nice!"

He leaned on his toes over-eagerly, his hands grasped the box but the smile wiped from his face the instant he realized he was falling forward.

Rhett tumbled over himself and got between Link and the aisle in an instant, his brain caught up to him when he realized he had his arms around Link Neal, whose own wrists were crossed around his neck, hanging on for a second before planting each of his feet on the tiled floor.

He felt more than heard a breathy relieved laugh beside his ear.

Warm.

He shivered, unconsciously leaning back which kept Link clinging onto him a little longer than necessary. Rhett's heart thumped against the cereal box that was jammed between their chests.

"C-close call. Ha. Sumthin about that Crunch just makes me dAngerous. I guess."

He was joking around but when he pulled back his eyes were all sparkly and he looked kind of loopy. Rhett couldn't talk. He had never seen this Neal.

Link was so flustered he almost stumbled again with the box. Rhett caught it as it slipped from the shaky hand, gaze still unbroken as he took him in. Heat crept up his neck when he realized their arms were still...well, around each other. One of Link's now braced against his chest and one of his gripping Link at the waist, bunching in the cotton under his jacket, So close to skin Rhett would only have to inch-

"Ahem."

Some guy to their left cleared his throat and they sprung apart, letting him through so he could grab some items from the shelf they'd been occupying. Rhett silently hoped that jerkoff choked on his Cursed Charms. Link fidgeted, putting his shades on and Rhett felt the cold air swoop in between them.

"So, guess I'll leave you to finish up your shopping." Link said, straightening up,

"It is your weekend, I'm sure you got better things to do'n catch your clumsy boss all day."

Rhett couldn't think of a single thing better than that, actually, but he suddenly remembered he had come here to get food for Barbara so he played along and pretended to be very interested in a display of no-tears shampoo. Then he counted to thirty and took another guilty look over at Link, whistling to himself at the self-checkout.

Sunday found Rhett in the shadier part of the park, taking Barbara for a walk, which meant Barbara was taking him for a walk. He liked that no-one seemed to be around, cause it meant his stream of one-sided Barbara-babble went uninterrupted away from judgey eyes and judgier ears.

He was just getting to the part of his walk where he inevitably watched Barbara pee on a bush then called her out for being the stinkiest girl in the world when he heard then saw someone strolling down the path in his direction. He knew that walk. He knew that whistle.

Fuck.

Link Neal was walking down the path with something under his arm. Seemingly he hadn't caught sight of Rhett yet. Rhett was rooted to his spot and suddenly incredibly aware he was wearing his dog dad uniform, an old Bojangles Tee that said 'It's Bo-Time!' (that he may or may not have used to wash his truck with before he sold it) with the holes to prove it, wranglers, socks for warmth and sandals for comfort.

"Hey!" he heard a cheery shout.

Too late.

"Hey, Rhett!"

Rhett waved sheepishly at his boss and fidgeted with his belt loops as Link skipped the rest of the way over.

"Dang man, two days in a row?" Link said half breathless,

"That's crazy!"

"Yeah," Rhett said, taking his boss' appearance in.

Link was again dressed in what Rhett now recognized as his more low-key Incognito-Mode. Cotton shirt, dark teal flannel jacket, cuffed jeans and impossibly white sneakers.

"I..." No sweater in sight. Just naked V-neck and a flash of chest hair.

"I guess so." he finished, not quite remembering what he was responding to.

"That your dog?"

Link asked, gesturing at Barbara who was currently leaning against a tree, yapping at something up in the branches.

"Nah," Rhett shoved his hands in his pockets for effect,

"I'm a dog napper." he quipped, "Just really bad at it."

Link laughed. It was a giggly laugh that tapered off then geared back up until he was wheezing.

The joke was objectively not that funny but Link seemed to enjoy laughing at himself laughing.

He came down from it with a breathy sigh and looked at Rhett through watery crescent eyes. The whole thing had been so stupidly cute to watch that Rhett had done nothing but stare and soak up whatever it was radiating off the guy. Link nudged him playfully with his knuckles and Rhett felt the tension in his shoulders slacken instantly. He unconsciously took his hands out of his pockets but felt like he had nowhere appropriate to put them. He settled on pointing at a tiny dark brown dog that was trailing behind Link.

"That yours?"

Oh yeah, that's Jade. She's still enjoying her walk but this one," Link pointed his chin at the peanut butter-colored pup in his arms, "he got a little spooked sho I had to pick him up~" Link's voice was getting increasingly sappy as he went on, smooshing his face against the pair of perked up ears.

"Cuz he gets sho shcared of the bigger dogs, dun't he."

Rhett was ordinarily put off by people being mushy with their pets but this display was oddly not-entirely-obnoxious. The guy was manhandling his dog like it was a posable figurine but talking about it like a proud Papa.

The dog - Jasper - looked helpless but not unhappy held there, seemingly soothed by all the smooshing and baby-talk. For one fleeting moment Rhett considered what it'd be like being so small and so contented curled up in Link's-

"Wow, Rhett..."

"Huh?" Rhett's gaze snapped up to meet misty looking eyes.

"I said wow, lookathat, your hair's really growing out. I barely recognized you walkin' this way." Link said. "Like some kinda...wild man." Rhett waited for him to elaborate but he didn't. Was there a compliment in there? He hadn't felt this awkward since he got asked out on April Fool's day back in middle school by a well-meaning crush with crappy timing.

"I was gonna go feed the ducks, if you and Barbara'd like to join me." Link suggested, switching Jasper to a one-armed hold and fishing a brown paper bag out of his jacket.

"Oh, yeah sure." said Rhett, "Wait, that's not bread, is it?" he quirked an eyebrow,

"Yeah..." Link said, raising his.

"Cause bread is actually really, really bad for them. It messes up their digestive systems." Rhett said, stopping himself before going off on a rant about this fact he'd only had to explain to people 15 times since moving here.

"Dangit." Link swore, or almost swore.

"Well...I mean, how long have you been feeding ducks bread?" Rhett asked.

"Like," Link looked like he was counting in his head, "Eight years?"

Link looked up at Rhett who winced before he could stop himself.

Links eyes widened behind his frames.

"Hey, hey- it's not that bad- just- switch to peas, you can-"

"Shit!" Link blurted suddenly,

"Wh-uhh?" Rhett slurred, taken aback. Did he just-

"Oh. Shit."

Link had stepped in it. He waggled his foot around wildly trying to flick off the stuff.

"Hey, hey don't get it on me. Hang on."

Rhett caught his leg mid-motion to slow him down. He kneeled down to get a cautious closer look.

"Relax." he finally spoke, "It's not dog crap."

"It's not?" he heard Link's voice above him, wobbly like he was going to throw up.

"Nah. It's a dead dove."

He felt a hand grip his hair from above, felt Link go limp as he let go of his leg. He looked up at him and met Link's stunned face with his own trying to stay serious and ultimately breaking out in a stupid smile,

"Jus kiddin'" he said, "S' just a mushroom."

After a second of dawning comprehension Link grinned at him and yoinked his hair playfully before leaning over, resting Jasper down and confirming it was in fact just a big ole squishy mushroom and not something gag-worthy at all.

"You jerk."

he said, but his voice smiled, then his whole face did.

There it was.

That was the good stuff and Rhett didn't care he felt a little bit like a junkie if it meant more of this- whatever this was filling him up inside.

Link pelted him with a breadcrumb which he caught between his fingers, which spurred Link on to send more his way until he was emptying the bag of floaty crumbs over his head and Rhett was throwing some back, then just catching them in his mouth til he was nearly falling backwards. The both of them were laughing so hard they nearly didn't notice Barbara yapping at a frightened Jasper.

"Barbara! Manners!" Rhett scolded, sauntering over and corralling her. Jasper ducked out of his way and yelped when he came over, tail tucked between his legs and he was reminded, once more, of his intimidating stature.

"Yeah, he gets a lil shcared of men." Link said, scooping him back up, "Actually, he didn't like men at all until he met me." Link said, semi-smugly resting his chin on Jasper's forehead and burying a kiss into the fur there. Rhett twisted the leash in his hands.

Jasper had it good.

And Rhett had it bad, he just wasn't sure what 'it' was. Yet.

A camera flash went off and Link visibly startled, noticing a couple of artsy looking kids (probably students come to the park to take photos). He regained his composure and glanced at his watch.

"I should probably get going, don't wanna be here after dark, you know." he looked around for Jade, who was behind him.

"Uh, yeah." Rhett nodded. "Me and Barbara were gonna head out anyways. So..."

Rhett rubbed the back of his head which was still tingling where Link had yanked it. He knew himself to be tender-headed but that particular tug, though by no means pain-free had been curiously... memorable.

"See you at work!" he blurted out, Link already paces away from and waving over his shoulder with his free hand, stooping down and calling Jade who followed him slowly as he left the park. Rhett heard him shout something in reply that sounded like

"Nice running into ya! Again!"

Rhett spent the greater part of the last day of his weekend at the library, then when they closed he went back to flipping through his script back at his apartment. That night, he tossed and turned. The moon was entirely too bright and his brain was buzzing with ideas too loud to let him sleep.

After a streak of seven straight nights hitting the pillow hard and waking up harder, and knowing tomorrow he would be back at work and need his energy, Rhett's frustration culminated in pulling an all-nighter, scribbling in his snotebook while a VHS he'd taped over with some classic MV episodes hummed in the background.

It was 3am when he finally put his pencil down and opened his Dream Dictionary. He flicked through it hoping to find something useful, like techniques for remembering dreams once you'd woken up, and stumbled across a word that lit his brain up for a fraction of a second.

'Bacon.'

Wait, was the dream about bacon? Or was he just hungry?

His stomach growled in reply but he shook it off for now. He was hungrier for answers now. Okay, 'Bacon' he read aloud. 'See 'Meat'' he flipped even faster to the 'M's and found it.

'Meat. Meat is a universal symbol of passion. This food is a staple which symbolizes sustenance at a fundamental level. Dreams featuring meat indicate a desire that needs to be fed. This can be an idea, a project or more physical craving, depending on the state of the meat and the dreamer's reaction to it.'

"Huh." he said, laying the book back down on the table and leaning back into his chair, his back sore from hunching over so long.

"Well that was useless."

Another image came to him, unbidden and he started flipping pages again.

"Soap...soap...s- here it is."

'Soap. To imagine yourself washing yourself with soap indicates a need to 'purify' certain aspects of yourself. The dreamer may feel a sense of guil-'

Rhett snapped the book shut, annoyed.

Nothing in here was helpful, it all just made him more confused. After a few more minutes of aimless flipping, reading and scribbling he decided to call it a night. He binged on bacon, chugged some milk and managed to catch a wink before sunrise.

Back at work on Monday Link was sparking with energy and it was contagious. He was still Mister Neal here at the studio but Rhett's run-ins with him were like getting glimpses of skin through that stupid sweater. And it did something for Rhett to know even the Mythical best Neighbor ever wouldn't get to see him the way Rhett got to.

He absent-mindedly doodled the two of them in a corner of his script during a noisy table read, and regretted it instantly when a slender hand snatched it from under him, Link was right next to him, his expression tickled at the crude rendering of his likeness.

"How come you drew yourself with a dog collar on?"

Oh, of course now everyone gets quiet.

That caused Josh and Nicole at the other end of the table to look up from their discussion, eyebrows held high. Smirks playing at the corners of their mouths. Link had a way of saying things in the most incriminating way possible.

"Look atchu, looking up with me with those puppy dog eyes" Link was having fun playing keep away with the script. It didn't help their proximity was forcing Rhett to look up at his boss, hands unwilling to grab but eyes begging for the paper back. Was he blushing?

"That's not --me!" Rhett said, his voice crackling a bit and giving him away. He had basically drawn himself but with more hair, fur. "-that's Damiel, from the episode where he tried to fit in n be a regular dog-"

"The one where I brought back 'just yourself be if quare are you'? We got a lot of letters after that one..." that train of thought seemed to distract him as he reminisced so Rhett gathered up the script as soon as Link put it down, unconsciously clutching it to his chest.

After the meeting Link leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"Don't throw it away."

and then

"Sorry for being a jerk about it."

he said, something in his voice both assured him he was sorry but at the same time would absolutely do it again for kicks.

And he was so. dang. close. to Rhett's face.

He blushed under his beard.

"It's not a bad drawing." he added.

"Just picking up a paintbrush- uh- pencil- that's what makes you an artist."

he was doing an impression of a certain fanbrush-wielding show host he always talked about with a fonder expression than Rhett was comfortable with. Rhett didn't get it but whatever.

Link nudged him with his elbow,

"My sweater's nicer'n that though."

Rhett wanted to bite back that it wasn't- it was even uglier than he could possibly draw it. That he constantly had the urge to rip it off the guy. Get a look at the white cotton shirt he wore underneath, hell, even seeing his bare chest would be better.

It sometimes frustrated him the way the stupid old man sweater moved over Link's frame, not so baggy that someone paying attention wouldn't notice the lean, flexible...possibly sensitive body beneath it.

Okay, Rhett would level with you here, he found it frustrating in more than one way and he paid more attention than he was ready to admit.

But no matter how many times he found his thoughts drifting to itchy soft sweaters and softer touches and that voice saying soft words that could somehow instantly make him--

Hard.

Okay.

This was getting hard. Mister Neal- Link, as he liked to be called, but which still felt... inappropriate, somehow, was still Rhett's boss.

A foolish man could mistake Link for being soft for his goofyness, but the man was not afraid of putting you in line when you'd run afoul of one of his many rules.

Rhett learned this the hard way when he'd tried cramming all the little figures - the tiny wooden characters that populated the scale model of Mythical Valley- into their foam lined carrying case when they were clearing the studio for the long weekend.

"What are y- dagumit- those aren't toys, Rhett!" he marched over to where Rhett stood mid-shove.

"They represent the colourful assortment of good people in this f-" a stumble, "-ictional town. Heck, most of em have been here longer'n you!"

An ordinary person could blink and miss that almost-eff-up but Rhett couldn't bring himself to blink when Link was madder than he'd ever seen. He shrunk.

"Oh- I'm sorry- I was just- I mean-" Rhett's mouth had stopped working as his brain short circuited. The shorter man was standing hands on hips and frowning down at him in a way that made him feel like a delinquent schoolboy.

"Uhm. Alright. How should I...do it?" he heard himself say in the smallest voice.

"Well," Link tapped the case with the tip of his shoe meaningfully, "What you're gonna do is take each of 'em out from that pile-up and put them into their designated slot,"

He picked one up to demonstrate, scrutinized it and placed it into its spot.

"Caaarefully."

"Uh...okay. Sorry Li-"

"I'm not the one you should be saying sorry to, Rhett." now was one of those times 'Link' felt inappropriate. He snapped, rolling his eyes. "You're 'sorry'."

"'Pologize to little Big Deborah there! Kiss her hat and put her back where she belongs."

Well now.

That's-

But whatever word that was, Rhett's mind couldn't say. Things had gone fuzzy again.

Blinking back his bewilderment Rhett felt himself simply nod and comply. He picked her up gently, kissed her hat, and put her in the case.

"I'm sorry, big Deborah." Rhett couldn't help his gaze from wandering up to see Link's face. He needed to know that he wasn't mad at him anymore. Their eyes met. Link stared at him, then suddenly he blinked twice, and the bluster was gone.

"I'm so sorry, Mailperson Jen." he repeated his ministrations, the thread of eye contact between them unbroken. The room was all quiet except for the tiny kiss noise where his lips touched the figure, the clink as he slid them into place. His mentor's breathing.

"Like this, Mister Neal?" he felt himself ask, still soft, moving to pick up the next figure, a smiling figurine of the sweater-clad man himself. He handled this one different, he couldn't help it. He brought it up to his mouth and slowly-

He looked up at the bigger Link, whose words seemed to have gotten caught below his collar. He sucked in a breath and Rhett's gaze traced a bead of sweat that slid down a clean-shaven throat, disappeared beneath a starched white shirt. They had already shut off the AC in the studio and Rhett knew Link had to be hot under that sweater.

"Alright, that's enough. You don't gotta apologize to all of em." Link said, waving dismissively. He hoisted himself to standing.

"Just put them back and remember to switch off the lights in the storage locker." he adjusted his sweater and shuffled off, leaving Rhett alone, kneeling in the studio. Rhett blinked twice. He stared after him, gaze catching on the little bit of lower back that flashed as his boss tucked his shirt back in. He snapped out of his stupor when the forehead of the little Mister Neal met his lips.

He didn't mean to do that.

Fuck.

Stevie was in her office, head between her hands. She'd just gotten off the phone with a real piece of shit (industry term) and now someone was knocking on her office door.

Aaaand here came the headache.

Right on fucking cue.

She swigged some Liquid Death for courage.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Chase." came Chase's voice.

She beckoned for him to come in then remembered he didn't have X-ray vision and spoke up, "Come in."

"Uh, just got something for the lost-and-found." he said, apologetically shuffling in, aware from the state of her desk that he'd come in at a spectacularly bad time.

"It was just over by the cubbies but it doesn't have a name on it so..." he trailed off, pulling a tiny paperback out from behind him and showing it to her, flitting through the pages to show the lack of label.

"Wait- hang on, there's writing in here. Lemme see." She held out her hand and took it, nodding to Chase to indicate he could go.

"Thanks Chase. Sorry. Just- you know -we're having one of those days." she said, gesturing vaguely at the mess of envelopes and they exchanged knowing looks.

She thumbed through the dream dictionary, stopping at a page with writing scrawled on it.

Notes and doodles in a style that looked instantly familiar, near the top was circled 'Meat.'

"Oh boy. Here we go." she said, grabbing a fax and turning on the shredder.

[conaionaru]

He is complicated

Synopsis: Vanya spends some alone time with Ivar again.

Warning: Angst, forced marriage, mentions of rape, dark thoughts, Ivar, fluff (because why not)

Tagged:

@youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @heavenly1927

I don't own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it. 

After supper, Vanya steeled herself for what's to come. She kept imagining all worst-case scenarios and preying that she was just paranoid.

She hid the needle in her dress like planned and waited on the chair by the fire for everything to grow silent. The redhead sat in the same chair she sat yesterday. The chair to her left was empty, yet it still felt like he sat there watching her. Just like he did in the morning, he didn't compliment her as everybody else did.

With one last deep breath and double-check that the weapon was hidden, she made her way to Ivar's chambers. She kept looking over her shoulder as if one of his brothers would jump out and ask her where she was going.

Gathering all the courage she had left in her, she knocked on his door. "Come in." She opened the door and looked into his room. It wasn't that different from hers. A bed, chairs by a fireplace, and a desk. He sat by the fire with something in his hands.

"Come sit, why are you standing there?" He urged her forward with a wave of his hand. He looked excited, which made her curious. So she complied and sat down next to him—the same position as yesterday, only in a different room.

"How was your day, Ivar?" She asked politely. They talked at the table, but it was in Norse, so she didn't get much out of the conversation.

"We caught a boar, some rabbits, and fish." Ivar kept looking at his hands. That's when she noticed a knife in them. She stiffened, scared for what he would do. Slowly she moved her hand to the place where she hid the needle.

He looked at her from the corner of his eyes and drew in a deep breath before extending his hand to her. But not the one that was holding the knife. "Take it." He urged her, opening up his palm.

Vanya couldn't believe her eyes. Inside his outstretched hand laid a wood carving of a wolf with its mouth open. It was beautiful. "You made this?" She questioned just to be sure she didn't imagine it.

The ginger reached for the figure and clasped it in her hand, looking it over with adoration in her eyes.

Ivar nodded his head and looked away from her supporting his chin on his palm. His right hand played with the knife that he used to craft her gift. "I did it while my brothers went fishing. It's Fenrir."

Vanya looked up at him curiously, all thought of danger in the back of her mind. "Who is Fenrir?"

The youngest son of Ragnar slowly blinked like he didn't understand the question. "Fenrir is a giant wolf who will swallow the sun during Ragnarok."

"And what is Ragnarok."

"The end of everything."

Vanya watched him in shock. It was a sweet gesture to give her a gift. On the other hand, a giant wolf from the end of the world is not that romantic. Despite her thoughts did she smile at him.

The smile made him pause. It was broad and made Vanya's blue eyes shine. She looked breathtaking at that moment. She radiated pure happiness, wore a dress that complimented her, and made her red hair stand out. And the glow from the fire made her look like a goddess to him. Freya.

"It is beautiful. Thank you very much, Ivar." Even her voice was perfect. Ivar shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts and cleared his throat.

"You are welcome. I like your dress." Ubbe told him to pay her compliments, so he did. The dress does look great on her.

"Thank you. You inspired me to wear it." Vanya admitted shyly, looking away from him with rosy cheeks.

The prince's brows furrowed. His head tilted to the side, thinking about everything he told her yesterday. "And how did I do that?"

She wanted to dig her own grave at that exact moment. Why did she say that? What happened to being cautious of him?"Your eyes." She whispered, refusing o look at him., which works for Ivar.

His stony face was shocked, and his mouth was open. He didn't expect that. Neither of them said anything. An awkward silence overtook them. She needed to think of anything to say. "Can you tell me more? Of your gods?"

Ivar eyed the fire in front of him, not trusting himself to look at her. So he talked of his gods. Of Odin and his wife, Frigg, of their son Baldur and his death. Or the God of mischief Loki and his three children. He talked of Thor and his mighty hammer, Mjolnir. He told her about Freya and her brother Freyr. After she kept asking, he even told her how the world would end.

It was all so different from her religion. There were so many powerful gods and great stories. Their lying snake was Loki and not Satan; they had no Virgin Mary, no Jesus. It was so foreign, but so intriguing she couldn't stop listening. Recounting her faith is a sin that she will have to commit to the man before her. But God never listened to her. Maybe Ivar's gods will.

He talked of them with such passion and belief it made her envious. She was Christian because it was the right thing to do. To live a holy life as God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost command. Yet she never viewed her faith the way Ivar sees his. Perhaps the pagan gods are her destiny.

"Wait. Loki gave birth to a horse?"

"Yes. Sleipnir. It had eight legs." The seriousness in his face made her pause. He wasn't joking.

"How does that even work. I know he can change forms, but that is insane." She shook her head in disbelief, causing Ivar to laugh. She shot him a weak glare. "Are you laughing at me, Ivar?"

"Oh, I would not dare. You must have imagined it." He was teasing her, and she liked it. This Ivar before her was nothing like the one Sigurd spoke of. How could this man be a monster? She was right all along. He is only pretending. She is sure of it.

"To be honest, I was worried about what you would do today." This made him stop laughing. The stone-cold face was back as was the hardness of his eyes.

He stared at her for a long time before he looked away, offended. Whatever he was looking for in her eyes, he didn't find it.  "I saw you talking to Sigurd. He told you bad things about me, didn't he?"

Vanya gulped and bobbed her head up and down slowly. Her hand twitched to reach for the needle. He still held the knife in his hand. It would only be fair if she were armed herself. Granted, his weapon was more dangerous than hers. And he was a trained warrior. "He told me you killed a boy when you were a child. He said how you treated slaves. He said to beware of you. I told him that I don't see you as a monster."

The last sentence made him pause. "Why?" He wanted to know the answer so badly. Everyone saw him as a monster. A crippled, crude thing that no one loved except his mother.

The Saxon Princess mulled her next words over. He wanted her to be more confident. Say what she meant to say. She hopes he isn't regretting that choice now. "You don't seem like an evil man to me. You talk to me, encourage me, compliment me, and give me gifts. That doesn't look monstrous to me."

Ivar looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face. The stare took to long for her liking and made her feel uneasy all over again. He was reading her face like an open book. Looking for a sign, she was lying and saying these things to save her skin. "I am not a good man."

"Maybe not. But no one is truly good. Everybody sins. And you are a Viking. Your people are different."

"And what do you know of my people?" The question started her. It was simple, yet so complicated, just like him.

She nervously twiddled with her fingers. If Ivar didn't regret telling her to be confident, she sure was. "I know somethings from the attacks on our countries. How you steal, murder, and rape. That is why I was so terrified of what you would do. I know you promised not to hurt me. But... Not every promise is to be kept."

"Is that all?" Did he have enough of her? "What else did you hear?" Oh. Well that she could answer.

"You sacrifice humans for your gods. You share your women. You are descendants of the devil. Barely human. You eat human flesh and drink the blood of newborn children." Ivar sorted out a laugh at that shocking her.

"You think we drink child blood?" His chuckles were not what she expected at all. "You people are so creative."

After he calmed down, he threw his knife away and fixed her with a look. His eyes were shining. He shifted in his seat and exhaled. "I did what Sigurd said I did. But I would not hurt you. I told you I would protect you. And I keep my promises. I swear it on my gods."

Vanya nodded, feeling guilty. She shouldn't. She had every right to doubt him. He is a savage—a heathen who hurts everybody in his path. Yet her chest felt heavy. "I didn't mean to offend you. I... I am scared. Kattegat is so different. I don't fit in. I don't understand what you speak of. Your traditions and gods are new to me. I am afraid."

"You are going to be the wife of a son of Ragnar Lothbrok. No one will dare to do anything to you. You will no longer be a Christian a get used to our traditions."

"I want to learn your language. So I can talk to you. Talk to the people of Kattegat." Vanya leaned towards him eagerly as he raised an eyebrow at her confession.

"Why?" As proud as he was about her desire to learn his language, he and his brothers understood her. That was enough. There was no need for her to talk to anybody else.

"You said it yourself. I am to be the wife of a son of Ragnar Lothbrok. The wife of a prince should be able to talk to her people. Understand them to understand their problems. I don't want to sit by your side and look pretty. I want to help people. If I am to be your wife, then I want them to love me."

Ivar smirked at her and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes for a moment before he tilted his head towards her. He locked gazes with her and nodded. "Fine. I will teach you." Vanya smiled at him again with that brilliant smile and blush.

"Thank you, Ivar." The said man only waved his hand in dismissal. It didn't bother him to teach her. At least he had an excuse to spend time with her during the day. He could try books so that she could read the language as well. It was worth a try.

"I should probably go back to bed. The sun will rise soon." How quick time passes when she is around him. Ivar looked out of the window to confirm her words for himself. And indeed, the sky was changing colors already.

"Good night, then, Vanya."

"Good night, Ivar." And so she retreated to her chambers and laid in her bed with Fenrir in her hand.

[valatheapprentice]

Echoes of the Past

Brought to us by @arcana-echoes

Vala Quintus

Hometown

Vala was born as Princess Alexandra Cirillo in the kingdom of Sparta. She wasn't allowed to go out into the kingdom. The few times her hand maiden would allow her to sneak out, shed find herself in a rowdier part. Despite being loud and reckless, they seemed to be very mindful and playful with her. She ran away at 6 and came to Vesuvia, where she was adopted and lived a fairly normal childhood in a nice neighborhood

Parents (mentions abuse)

Her birth parents were very cordial at best. They were very patriotic, proud and loving of their kingdom. When their son, valas older brother, was born, they loved him about as much. Years go by and they make a deal with the devil. Im exchange of their children's magic, he would be sure sparta lived on forever and that their children would go down in history. Since their son had no magick and an only child then, they agreed. A few years go by and they give birth to vala. While they loved her at first. That changed the moment she displayed magical abilities. With fear of the devil and magick being outlawed and detested , they would lock her in a cellar and place shackles on her to prevent her using said magic. By age three, Centaurs had threatened the kingdom. In exchange for being left alone, her parents agreed to let her be taken from time to time to entertain them, beating and r*ping her when they had gotten drunk. At this point they had seen her as more of an object and annoyance. When she ran away, war broke out and they died in that war.

Her adoptive parents were a lot different. They found her on the beach and took her in, despite originally not wanting kids. With nightmares and being former royalty (now kept secret) came behavior issues they had to help her overcome. They were extremely patient but stern. They gave her a fun and warm home and she lived 9 years as a fairly normal and happy child until her mother died when she was 15. She learned to cook and got her sense of humor from them. They signed her up for belly dance lessons, which she uses along woth her root work. Which they encouraged her into practicing.

Magick

She first showed signs of magick at age 2, but didn't really know it. As she got older she realized she could do things but was quickly punished for doing them. Once she was able to harness her power, she realized she was strongest with fire and chaos magick. She found some travelers and learned root work and conjuring from them. Which she continued researching and practicing after they left. She also has a strong connections to spirits and works/talks to them often

Education

She was heavily tutored as a princess, forced to learn Italian, and law despite being told she could never amount to anything due to her duties. In Vesuvia, she attended a public school until she dropped out at 15. Due to her love of dance and her Magick type, choir and science were her favorite subjects

The "aunt"

In her teens, she had been in trouble with the law frequently. Once she got back on her feet, she found qnd abandoned home and more or less squatted in it. She fixed it up with asras and her dads help and turned it into her shop "Magick and Mayhem". As soon as they started getting business, she was able to pay rent for it. The police she dealt with before let her slide of some formalities so they can keep seeing her stay out of trouble

Friends

In Sparta, her only friend was her handmaidens son, whom she rarely played with. In vesuvia, she had a habit of befriending colorful characters. One she was close to before she dropped out happened to be the daughter of a crime boss, Stella (another oc and LI for valerius)

Occupation (mentions substance abuse)

She dropped out of school after becoming dependent on drugs and entering an abusive relationship with her dealer. Despite helping forgive his debt in unsavory ways, she learned /some/ business skills through selling for him after a few years, such as negotiations.

Familiar

Her familiar is a possum named Arthur. She found him in a box labeled "free kitty" and couldn't resist. They are able to communicate and heal eachother. Hes able to sense peoples energy and his reactions can be seen as a warning for her. Together, they can manipulate the energy in anyone and anything. Its just a matter of if the want to or should

First loves (mentions abuse)

She had one love before meeting asra. Pete Uchiha (street name Ocho) was her dealer turned boyfriend when she was 15. Despite the good times she clung to and being too young to know better, he mentally, physically, and sexually abused her and forced her into dealing for him and attacking people who owed him. After 2 years of his paranoia and control. She met asra when he was homeless and a thief. They quickly went from being friends to facing an affair.

Cuisines

Growing up with her new family, her dad absolutely loves making chili and spicy beer chicken. While she could eat those everyday, she and her mom loved anything involving shrimp and gyros.

Defining moment (mentions substance abuse, attempted suicide, and crimes)

While she was considerate of others and wanted to be nice to everyone, she had little foresight, no impulse control, and often just thought of herself. The moment that really made her change her life was when she was 19. She had discovered she she could make any surface become soft and safe to land on. So she, Pete, and mutual friends would go onto a roof top, get high And basically fall into a dumpster. This went on for years until one day, her friend jumped and missed the spot, killing him. Once she realized what happened she was grief and guilt stricken and tried to overdose. Luckily, she was found and taken to the hospital where she started to detox. Later on she was arrested for manslaughter but was released on probation. That was the moment she realized she couldn't live like that. Pete was put on jail, she broke things off, and swore to never get high again and makeup for every wrong shes everyone, or try, since she finds herself responsible for the war as well. Still is and always will be, impulsive though

Holidays

She is a pagan, worshipping the Greeks gods (patron is Hermes, arcana is judgement). She follows the basic pagan holiday wheel. She will give either food drink or dance offerings and meditate to give her thanks to them and the spirits

Aftermath

After she had died, outside of asra, her father was completely grief stricken. Customers and neighbors felt sorry for their loss, a few even missing her and her energetic and kind energy. When asra brought her back, everyone knew something messed up happened and looked at them like outcasts. She has absolutely no memory and has to relearn how to talk, so this confused and disheartened her greatly. When asra told her dad, they got into a huge fight, her dad angry for putting more turmoil in their lives. So far (in my stories at least) he can't bare to face her, knowing she doesn't remember him yet/anymore

In another life

If she hadn't have left sparta. She would have died. Lets be real.

Given how she got the plague (kissing lucio, in a story ill post), it could have been avoided but then asra wouldn't have needed to be at the palace in her place and who knows what would have happened if lucio got his way in the ritual. Even ignoring that, when shed face asra again, it wouldn't have worked out. At least nothing would be easily forgiven. She'd probably be a numb and tired person after

If she had left with him, I think she'd feel guilt for leaving. Like itd be a happier life, being safe with asra in a new place, but I see her being more depressed and submissive. She just agreed to leave her home and father to rot in her mind.

Freebie

So, and I didnt know why until my husband helped me figure it out, but I always imagined her and julian getting married before having kids and her and lucio getting pregnant before getting married. Im one for diving deep into the psychology of my and other characters. While she and julian are no where near innocent and all, they tend to have a more wholesome relationship. She is very headstrong and a switch. Julian is in my mind a switch but is more submissive in personality. Lucio is just as headstrong as well as temperamental. So they but heads a lot and can be seen as a very emotionally charged couple. She does believe love is an action more so than a feeling, thanks to her adoptive mom and dad, and not many people put up with his shit out of love, so they do put the effort onto each other. So the more traditional route, in my mind I guess is better fit for julian and the chaotic route fits lucio better. (Idk I love doing deep dives into this kind of thing. Like ill spend hours talking to my super smart husband or researching to find the correct mindsets)

[thehistoricalgods]

My Experience With Ares

I've been meaning to write this for a while, and by “a while” I mean since I started this blog a few months ago. I could just never find the words and so I'd angrily delete my drafts because it wasn't right. Phrasing was off and words were inaccurate and it just wasn't clicking the way I wanted it—to convey my actual love for Ares and how much he's done for me. Just, all around, his importance in my life.

But, for better or worse, I'm putting these thoughts down now. This is going to be another long post and I'm apologizing in advance because I'm primarily a mobile user and, unfortunately, can't do a "read more" thing, so you'll just have to muscle through it. Yeah, I know. I basically suck.

So, Ares.

I guess, in order to properly begin, you need some context on my personal life. My self-proclaimed godfather died a couple years back of lung cancer, when he was around 94—he was a soldier through and through, and one of the first Mexican-Americans to receive a Medal of Honour, specifically for his bravery in Vietnam, but he'd stormed the beaches of Normandy when he was 15, and only resigned in 1998, when his wife finally talked some sense into him. He had been a colonel at the time. Anyway, he'd been a huge influence on me: he took care of me like my dad, who is also a military man, but not as kind and down to earth as my godfather was. I could go on forever about him, really, but I'll abstain, because this post isn't about him.

So when he died, I was broken-hearted. I wasn't even able to be there for him, since he went to a hospital in Spain, because he was born in Barcelona and he wanted to die in Barcelona. Of course, I was able to visit him, but I felt awful because I never got to say a proper goodbye. My parents understood, of course, they loved him too—he was my grandfather's best friend and his son always did a lot to help out our family.

So yeah. I needed comfort, badly. And, at the time, I was a super baby Hellenistic Polytheist and was just sort of looking for someone to just take away the pain I was feeling. Hades and Persephone, of course. Hestia.

But then I thought, almost out of nowhere, what about Ares? The god of war and soldiers and battle. Surely, I could get some comfort from his presence.

Unfortunately, there weren't a lot of resources on him—he's a war god, and what with most pagans being generally pretty pacifistic, there wasn't much to go off of.

So, I waited until I was home alone, cleaned up my room, and lit a red candle and just ... started talking.

At first, I was super formal about it, and said prayers and recited hymns. Anything to get his attention. Even just a little bit. I poured a libation and gave him an offering of a book about battle strategy. And I introduced myself. And just talked. Poured my heart out, really.

And soon enough, I could feel his presence, and it was comforting. Strong and protective and sort of a motivational thing. You can do this. You can overcome this. You can conquer these feelings.

Unlike some people, I don't have super distinct 'conversations' with the gods most of the time. I just talk to them and, on the occasions they're with me, let their presence envelope me like a blanket. I just let the emotions wash over me.

After an hour of bearing my soul to Ares, everything felt better. I felt better. Not healed, but I wasn't bottling everything up anymore. I'd let it out, and Ares sort of let me focus my energy on that. It was like a friend letting you rant, listening intently as they hold your hand.

So that was the beginning of my relationship with Ares. I became an active worshipper after that. The more I learned about him, the more I loved him. (As I researched him, I also did Aphrodite, and gods if I don't love them both with my whole heart). His presence is fiery and strong and warm. He's something to lean on. He's dependable, loyal, and, with me growing up in a family from a hyper-militarized culture, he really just worked for me. Not that my other gods don't, but it was a presence I was familiar with and thrived off of.

Along with the rest of them, he's there when I battle my depression—he's the definition of motivational speakers, just always yelling about his I got this, I can do this, make my problems my bitch. He wasn't like the supportive and warm Hestia, the inspiring and loving Aphrodite, the firm and fatherly figure of Hades, nor the relentless and blunt nature of Persephone. He was something entirely his own. Obviously.

I devoted myself to him faster than any other gods, save Hades. I just couldn't see any other path that I wanted. Serving Ares? Best thing ever. No regrets. I wouldn't change a thing.

He's who I go to when I need to rant, just let things out, or when I have something tough coming up and I need a quality kick in the pants to remember my self worth and that I can do this, and I will. Or when I'm studying wars and stuff in history, I like to light a candle and just kind of be like, this is for you.

So yeah. That's it. I just wanted to talk about Ares for a bit. Maybe later I'll make a post on my personal associations with him and acts I normally devote to him and things I've offered him.

— The Historical Gods

[skaldish]

Ngl this is also a big reason why I don't use it. The word "Lokean" is extremely American. I've actually done a lot of research to figure out where it came from. While I still need my tracks to be verified fully, this is the history as I have it so far: In the 1970's, Odinism arrived in the United States. This is a Nazi-derived Volkish brand of Heathenry, and it was the only form of Heathenry that was circulated in the United States until recently. In those early years, a lot of research was still going into building the religion of Ásatrú, and debates surfaced over what to do with Loki. Eventually, the Volkisch decided to use Loki and his progeny to represent everything they deemed antithetical and oppositional to the "Aryan" identity. However, spewing blatant Nazi rhetoric negatively impacts Volkisch recruitment, so in order to make their stances palatable, Volkish heathens disguise many of their arguments behind "Reconstructionism." The Asatru stance on Loki is this: "Loki has no place-names in Scandinavia, which tells us he wasn't worshiped as a god. Therefore, it's neo-pagan revisionism to worship him now." This is a very common argument, and it's used to forbid people from hailing Loki at sumbel or including him in any typical service. This created a lot of discord within American Heathen organizations in the 90's and 00's, because—surprise!—they had members who worked with Loki. I'm not sure the specifics behind it, but the term "Lokean" seemed to rise out of this as a way to legitimize Loki-veneration—perhaps even to contrast the term "Odinist." Lokean authors and bloggers started publishing material on Loki, both online and in print. Now the term 'Lokean' is used to describe "someone who venerates Loki," and at times it can act as its own subdivision of Norse paganism. I wasn't in the thick of all this madness, but I learned about it secondhand from those who were, and what they went through was pure religious abuse. They treat the term "Lokean" as their solid ground and their way of fighting against the Volkish demonization of their deity. But my background is very different. I've never experienced any of this marginalization for myself, nor have I had to answer to Volkisch heathens in any propensity. For this reason, I find it more legitimizing to simply call myself Heathen. Loki is a heathen god to all of Scandinavia, and I prioritize Scandinavia's authority on Heathenry over anything the Volkisch Heathens have to say.* (I actually received a lot of backlash from Lokeans for this initially. They took this as a betrayal to their cause and erasure of the issues that persist in American Heathenry. There are a lot of other reasons why I don't use the term 'Lokean' for myself, but ignoring the issue is not the reason why.) --- *American Lokeans couldn't do this back in the day because global communication wasn't really a thing until now. You either had to fly to Europe (inaccessible for the average person), dig up a bunch of Norse history papers that could maybe perhaps give you some kind of clues about Heathen spirituality (also inaccessible to the average person), or learn from the people who were already doing these two things—Volkisch Heathens. If you were an American Heathen and wanted a community, you had to suck up to the Volkisch. So when it came to Loki contentions, people who worked with Loki were left with two choices: Leave, or self-advocate using literally any meager tool at their disposal. This seems to be the motivation behind the published works of Lokean writers, anyway.

Little bit of personal trivia, but fun fact: Despite the fact Loki is my patron, I actually don't identify as a Lokean. At least, not anymore. I used to back when Loki was the central focus of my practice, but over the years I switched to using "Heathen."

It's taken me a long time to really understand why I don't identify as a Lokean and a Heathen, or even as a "Lokean Heathen," and now I think I really know why—It's because my spirituality has always been centered around philosophies, not figures, and I don't feel comfortable using terms that suggest the latter.