#definitely a few Norse Gods in there me thinks

[writing-for-life]

Sandman Casting News!

Well, not really, but Barry Sloane is now officially confirmed as Destruction. He must be so relieved he doesn’t have to bite his tongue anymore 🤣

Plus a few other characters we don’t know yet…

https://x.com/redanianintel/status/1717545026941571492?s=12

[tomriddleslove]

What’s left of me?

✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where your pursuit for excellence leads you down a path of self destruction, and you’re slowly loosing yourself. You didn’t expect a certain boy in your year would be your saving grace. Alternatively: Mattheo makes you realise you’re more than what you think you are.

A/N: I guess this could very easily be like a prequel to the other mattheo one shot ‘i’m here’. This is definitely a bit self indulgent but we all have our things 😻😻

Warnings: Allusions to overdosing (brief), mentions of not eating.

Songs: Nothings New - Rio Romeo

18 days.

18 days till you would be finished with all of this.

Technically, it would actually be 408 days till you finished school and graduated from this godforsaken place, but 18 more till you finished with exams.

You weren’t sure how many more hours you could spend hunched over indecipherable handwriting, pouring over text till your eyes stung and your back ached. Surrounded by a stack of books and rolls of parchment, you couldn’t even begin to figure out where you ended and the library began. You had taken up a huge table (that could seat at least 4) for the better part of 17 hours, sat on the same chair since 6:00 am.

You stifle a small groan of pain as you roll your wrist, stiff and sore from the hell that was ancient runes.

There are ink splotches all over your skin, and you’re sure the amount of work you were pouring into this stopped being effective nearly 5 hours ago.

Your eyes flicker up and scan over the once-packed library that had slowly dwindled down to a few students, half of whom were in the same boat as you.

To you, being the last person in the library was a huge sign of success. It meant you were more dedicated and more hard-working.

In reality, the truth couldn’t be any further from that, but in your mind, if you weren’t milking yourself over every last piece of work it simply wasn’t being done right.

The hushed murmurs and sounds of parchment being unfurled fade into the background as your quill scratches furiously against the parchment, mind running at a million miles an hour.

You ignore the pang in your stomach as you work; you haven’t eaten today. You didn’t want to get up at any point to get food, for fear of your place being taken.

Now, you didn’t want to get up for another reason. It was well past the library's open hours and Madame Pince was angrily fussing about, bustling around everyone as she got them to leave. A testament to how long you had been there, she didn’t even seem to notice you, and you were worried getting up and walking about would break this sort of invisibility shield you had going on.

Come to think of it, you hadn’t really drunk any water either. You brought your bottle with you but had forgotten to fill it up. It was fine though, the human body could last for 3 days without water - it could wait. Your upcoming exams were far more important.

In Scandinavia, the Elder Futhark remained in use until some time around the eighth century (the time of the Eddas), when drastic changes in the Old Norse language occurred, and corresponding changes in the runic alphabet were made to accommodate the new sounds. However, unlike the Anglo-Saxon Futhorc, the Younger Futhark (as it is now called) reduced the number of runes from 24 to 16, and several runes came to represent multiple sounds. The forms of the runes were also changed and simplified.

Gods, you couldn't take this anymore. You felt sick and exhausted. You ignore the hunger that gnaws at your stomach, rubbing a hand over your face as you contemplate finishing off and going to bed.

But every time you think of stopping a horrible feeling emerges in your stomach, consuming you with anxiety. The weight of impending exams and the fear of not doing well gnawing at your determination. You glance at the clock, realizing it's well past midnight, and the library is now completely empty except for you.

Madame Pince, finally noticing your presence, approaches with a disapproving look. "You know, the library does close at a certain hour. I can't have students staying here all night," she scolds, but her tone softens as she sees the exhaustion in your eyes.

“Sorry. I lost track of time” You mumble, haphazardly cramming your stuff into your bag. You get up, and the room spins for a second. You stumble but manage to catch yourself, holding onto the table as Madam Pince reaches out a hand to help you recover.

“You need to take care of yourself. No exam is worth this much stress,” She says, eyeing you with concern. If only she knew how far that was from the truth. You felt as though you had so little to your name. Performing well, overachieing. That was what you were known for. It was the only thing you felt was yours. Everyone else had character, they were distinctly themselves. They had hobbies, interests, and friendships that defined them. But for you, it was always about excelling academically. Without that, you became nobody. You were no more than the number on your papers, and the reminder weighed down on you like an unrelenting burden.

By some miracle you manage to stumble down the empty halls of the castle into the Slytherin common room, which seemed paradoxically warm considering its grandiose stone structure and dark, moody lighting. You carelessly drop your bag onto a table closest to the fireplace, trudging up to your room as you battle the sleep that threatens to consume you.

It's dark, and your roommates have long gone to bed.

“Lumos” You murmur, hiding the blinding light that emerges from the tip of your wand with the lining of your school robes, dimming it slightly. You grope blindly at your bedside drawer, stopping when you feel the familiar smooth glass bottle, that fits perfectly in your palm. You slip it into the pocket of your robes, slowly shutting the drawer as you make your way back down to the common room. You dismiss the light that shines from your wand, tossing it onto the sofa as you take a seat on the floor, in front of the low table. You read the instructions on the back of the small bottle as if you hadn’t been consuming this religiously for the past month.

Wideye potion User Guidance:

Take no more than one teaspoon every 6 hours. Effects will last for up to 8 hours. Excessive use of this potion may lead to adverse effects, and in rare cases, severe bodily harm. Users are advised not to use the maximum dosage for a consecutive 72 hours.

You’ve read it so many times, you were sure you could recite it by heart. Choosing not to heed any warnings, you pop open the cork and down the whole bottle in one go. The rancid taste of the potion burns, eliciting a shudder down your spine as you swallow down the bile that threatens to emerge. Pocketing the empty glass bottle, you stretch your arms before retrieving your books, ready to continue working.

If you were lucky, the potion might give you a boost of energy for about 3 hours or so. You had been taking it so much you had developed a sort of immunity to it, and the effects were not as potent as they used to be. The sacrifice of your well-being for the sake of productivity had become a routine, a desperate attempt to squeeze every ounce of time and focus out of your exhausted mind and body.

You have attempted to brew a stronger concoction, in the misplaced hopes that increasing the potency would counteract the effect of the immunity. However, the violent cramps and palpitations it had given you very quickly told you that wouldn't work.

You knew it was bad. It was causing irreversible damage to your body, killing you at worst. It simply wasn't sustainable. But you couldn't drag yourself out of that mindset.

Failure. Nobody.

You gritted your teeth and carried on working.

You managed to get through another potions essay, and the time on your watch read 1:00 am.

You could carry on for longer, right?

You zone out for a second, staring off at the orange embers that emerged from the fireplace, shining bright for what seemed like a millisecond before falling to the floor, turning into nothing but ash.

The orange embers flicker, and for a moment, you see yourself in them – a fleeting brightness that threatens to be extinguished. The battle between ambition and self-preservation rages on as you grit your teeth and carry on working, oblivious to the embers slowly falling into nothingness, much like your own fading sense of self.

“Why on earth are you up at this hour doing work?” A voice calls from behind you, and the momentary intrusion shocks you, sending a burst of energy through you as you spin around.

Flopping down onto the sofa next to you, leaning back with his legs lazily outstretched, was none other than Mattheo Riddle. Clad in a plain grey sweatshirt and black jeans, he eyes you with curiosity, smelling distinctively of smoke. He had most likely been out, as he so usually was at this hour. You shrug, turning back to your work.

“Exams. Need to revise” You mumble, voice cracking. You swallow, massaging your dry throat as you grimace, trying to get back to your writing.

“Revise? Merlin, you're the smartest person in our year. You don't need to be revising” Matthep leans forward, plucking a piece of parchment from your pile and examining it with a raised eyebrow.

You snatch it back, a protective instinct kicking in despite the fatigue. You hated that sentiment. Despised it, even. People always assumed your performance came naturally. That you were simply born with the ability to do well. No one seemed to consider what you had to do to get to that point, how you wore yourself down, day in and day out, till you either passed out from exhaustion or pain, neglecting your most basic needs.

"I might be the 'smartest' person, but that doesn't mean I can afford to slack off," you reply, a hint of frustration in your voice. The adrenaline from the sudden interruption starts to ebb away, leaving you feeling even more drained.

Mattheo leans back, momentarily caught off guard by your defensiveness. He had never seen you this on edge. He was so accustomed to seeing you as this familiar presence during the school day his partner for the many lessons that he didn’t have his friends in. The two of you would work together and on rare occasions, hang out with one another in the common room as well. It was a rather unlikely duo, the king of Slytherin and the academic prodigy. Yet, More often than not Mattheo found himself seeking out your presence. He never admitted it outright, but he hugely admired you. Your intelligence, your drive, it all captivated him. There were times when he hoped he could be only half the person you were.

How funny it was, for you felt the very same thing when you saw him. He seemed content. Happy. He was loved by nearly everyone. Popular, with a fun social life. He had everything you wanted without putting in any of the work.

You wanted to be like him. But you weren’t. And if you wanted anything like what he had, you had to work damn hard for it. So that's what you did. With a small sigh, you turn back to your work.

“Hey,” He says gently, his voice softening slightly. "I’m sorry. I say stupid things sometimes.” He apologies, brows furrowed as he looks at your back facing him.

“It's fine. I should be saying sorry. You didn't say anything, I just…. I’m just a bit tired, that's all.” You mumble, apologising as you get up. You stretch, a yawn escaping your lips as you wearily rub your eyes.

“I'm gonna run up to my room and grab some more parchment. I’ll be down in a second,” You say, shrugging off your school robe as you turn to walk away. You ascend the stairs leading to your dorm, tossing your robe onto the sofa next to Mattheo as you do so.

Your robe slides off the sofa and hits the floor, a faint clinking sound echoing through the empty room as you disappear.

Curious, Mattheo looks down at your carelessly discarded robe. He reaches down, picking it up. It weighs heavier than it should be, and Mattheo can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity, He eyes the now empty staircase before reaching into your pocket, fingers brushing against a smooth glass vial.

Not just one, but a few.

Frowning, he turns out your pocket, and four identical glass vials tumble into his lap. Picking one up, his frown only deepens as he reads the label.

“Wideye potion?” He mutters to himself, the confusion on his face morphing into something else as the pieces fit in place.

He had admired you for your intelligence and drive, and now he was confronted with the reality of your struggles. The contrast between your achievements and the seemingly carefree moments he sought with you becomes stark. He berates himself for not having noticed early, for having let you fall down such a destructive path.

Jaw clenched, he gazes at the piles of books you had been working through, rolling the empty vials between his fingers as the sound of your approaching footsteps snaps him out of his thoughts.

You pause in confusion, noticing the scrutinising depression plastered on his face as he looks up at you, rolls of parchment bundled in your hands.

"What's the Wideye potion for?" Mattheo questions, his voice cutting through the silence with an uncomfortable heaviness. He holds up the empty vials as evidence, his gaze piercing through the exhaustion in your eyes.

Caught off guard by the confrontation, you glance down at the vials and then meet Mattheo's eyes. A brief moment of silence hangs in the air, the crackling embers of the fireplace filling the empty silence.

“Research. For uh, potions.” You respond, internally berating yourself for coming up with such a weak excuse.

Mattheo's expression remains stern, a mix of frustration and genuine concern etched on his face.

"Don't bullshit me," he says, his tone direct and uncompromising. "I found these in your pocket, and 'potions research' is a shit excuse. I’m going to ask you again. What’s the wideye potion for?"

You shift uncomfortably, feeling small under his scrutinising gaze You clear your throat, speaking.

"It's just to stay awake, you know? To keep going. I only take it in extreme circumstances" you explain, your voice betraying the exhaustion that has settled in.

Mattheos jaw clenches, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he looks to the side with a sigh, visibly frustrated.

“Extreme? And what would that be, hmm? Because right now I'm looking at four empty bottles, and God knows how many more you’ve thrown away.” He snaps, his expression softening as he looks at you.

You feel a lump forming in your throat as you struggle to find the right words. Why on earth were you close to tears? Why did you feel like crying?

“I-” You start, trailing off as you stare at the floor.

Mattheo cuts through the silence, his tone still stern but laced with concern. "This isn't okay. You're smart, and you know better. You can't keep doing this to yourself. What if something happens? What if you collapse or get seriously sick? It's not worth it."

After a moment, Mattheo's expression softens, and he exhales deeply. "When was the last time you ate?" he asks, the concern evident in his voice.

Shit.

You pause, hesitating before admitting quietly, "Breakfast...yesterday."

Mattheo's features tighten at your admission, his eyes reflecting a mixture of frustration, anger, and genuine worry. He rises from his seat and strides towards you, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent room.

"Yesterday? Are you serious?" he says sharply, his voice carrying a weight of both concern and disbelief.

You remain silent, unable to meet his eyes, feeling the shame and vulnerability washing over you.

“Seriously? Fuck, what’s wrong with you? Why would you do that to yourself?” He chastises you, and you snap.

“I have to! You don't fucking get it, do you? I don't have anything else to fall back on.” You start, dropping the parchment onto the table in front of you.

Mattheo's expression shifts from concern to confusion as you lash out. "What are you talking about? You have plenty more than just academics. You're talented, you're smart, and people care about you. Why are you reducing yourself to just grades?"

You scoff, a bitter smile playing on your lips. "Talented? Smart? What does that even mean? It's just a facade, a cover-up for the fact that without these achievements, I'm nothing. I don't have friends; I don't have hobbies or interests. What am I without my grades?"

Mattheo tries to interject, "You're a person with-"

But you cut him off, "No, you don't get it! I'm just a number, a ranking, a test score. Everything I am is tied to how well I perform academically. Do you know what it's like to feel like the only thing you're good at is studying, and even that's slipping away?" You snap anger evident in your tone as you spin around to face him, your weary eyes meeting his.

“It’s the same thing every single day. I wake up, bury myself in books, and push myself to the brink just to feel like I matter. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I don't talk to anyone. I’ve spent my whole life isolating myself and neglecting my most basic needs for this! If I stop now, then what's left of me?”

Tears start to well up in your eyes, and you hate yourself for showing such vulnerability. Mattheo's stern demeanour softens as he watches you unravel.

"I can't stop, Mattheo. I can't afford to. Because if I do, what's left of me?" Your voice trembles.

Mattheo's heart drops at your words, guilt and hurt clawing at his insides. He can’t fathom the idea of you suffering so much, and him being blind to it. How could you not notice how incredible of a person you are beyond all of this? He’d give anything in the world for you to see yourself through his eyes. For you to feel the way he feels when he's with you, even for a second. To know that he’d do anything you asked him to because he cared for you. Not the one who gets outstanding on all their tests.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mattheo finally speaks, his voice softer, genuine concern written across his face.

You shake your head, a mix of frustration and desperation in your eyes. “Because you wouldn’t understand. No one does. They just see the grades, the perfect student. They don’t see the mess behind it all. And I can’t let them. I can’t let anyone see me like this.”

Mattheo moves closer, his expression shifting. “You’re wrong. I do understand. Maybe not completely, but I want to. You don’t have to face this alone.”

You scoff, wiping away a tear. “Why? What do you care? You have everything, popularity, friends, a life. I’m just the study partner, the smart one. I can’t burden you with this.”

Mattheo remains silent for a second, before he speaks.

“Every other Sunday, you go down to Hogsmesde and buy a hamper of sweets form Honeydukes. You take it to the children’s school and volunteer there for an hour. Everytime you visit, you make their day.” He starts.

"You're not just grades," he says, his voice gentle. "You have quirks that make you who you are. Like the way you absentmindedly tap your foot when you're deep in thought. Or how you always carry a small notebook, and I bet it's filled with more than just class notes. I've seen you doodle in the margins."

He continues, "You have a wicked sense of humor, even if you don't show it to everyone. I've heard you snort-laugh during our study sessions. And don't even get me started on your taste in music.How you call that dastardly jazz music, i’ll never understand, but you can’t resist humming along to the tunes of the Wizarding Wireless Network when you're studying. Your fondness for Chocolate Frogs and your inexplicable aversion to pumpkin juice.”

Mattheo's eyes light up, a small smile tugging at his lips as he recalls more details. "Remember that time in Charms class when you made your quill dance across the room just to see if you could do it? Or when you brewed a prank potion that turned the water in the Prefects' bathroom blue for a week? You have a mischievous side that not many people get to see." He continues, looking down at you sincerely. He remains silent for a second, eyes scanning over your face before he steps back, sighing.

“I don’t know how to do this emotional, sappy bullshit. I don’t do it. But with you, I do. I want to. Other people want to. That’s what you do.” He says, voice quiet.

You remain rooted to your spot, somewhere between disbelief and gratitude as you stare up at Mattheo. How did he know all that? Why did he know all that?

“You noticed?” You speak up, voice alarmingly quiet.

He looks at you as though you’ve just asked him whether the sky is blue.

“Of course i’ve noticed. It’s impossible not to.” He murmurs, and you know he’s being honest.

Tears prick in your eyes again, and it’s as though all that exhaustion and neglect has come crashing back down on you tenfold after Mattheo had called you out. You try blink them away but alas, you simply couldn’t. Before you can even say anything, Mattheo steps forward, pulling you into his chest as he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. He holds you tightly, not even entertaining the thought of letting go as your tears soak his sweatshirt, tentatively accepting his embrace. His heart clenches at every tear that falls from your eyes, and he can’t tell if he’s horrified or accepting of the fact that he’d give up everything to relieve you of your burdens, even if only for a day.

He rubs your back soothingly, and you can’t help but let it all out.

It’s rather cathartic, really, because you've held onto this weight for so long, and now, in Mattheo's arms, it feels like a moment of release.

As your tears eventually subside, you pull back, both embarrassed and utterly shattered. You look down, sniffling as you wipe away your tear stained eyes when Mattheo hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

People often said that the eyes were a window to the soul. You never really understood that, but in this moment, you felt as though you were gazing into the very depths of Mattheos being.

With a tenderness that betrays the boundaries of ‘just friends’ , he wipes away your tears with his thumb, looking down at you.

“Come on. Let’s get you up to rest, yeah?” He hums, quietly. You nod, having to tear yourself away from his touch.

He leans down to pack away your stuff, not letting you handle a thing as he throws your stuff over his shoulder.

“You can stay in my room, if you’d like. Theodore’s out for the night so I can take his bed.” Mattheo says.

You consider it for a second. You didn’t particularly fancy heading up to your room with Mattheo, for fear of your roommate awakening to see you in such a state. You nod, speaking.

“Yes please.” You say, voice embarrassingly hoarse from having cried so much. You pray Mattheo didn’t notice.

Of course he did. But, he chose not to draw attention to it, instead resolving to run down to the kitchen to get you a cup of tea.

You follow Mattheo into his room, which you were no stranger to. Having projects together meant endless hours of collaborating, and opting to avoid being pestered by your roommate and her friends (who had a rather amusing infatuation with Mattheo), you worked in his room instead.

“Help yourself to some clothes if you’d like. They’re on the right.” He says, carefully draping your school bag and robe onto one of the desks. You thank him, smiling softly as he cleans the mess he had left.

“Go lie down. I’ll be back in a second” He says, turning away as he exits his room. Swiftly walking down to the kitchen, his head is reeling with thoughts of you.

He chose not to confront the feeling gnawing at him in light of your breakdown. He didn’t want to deal with that just yet. In no less than 10 minutes he’s carefully treading up the stairs to the dorms once more, a cup of chamomile tea in one hand and some small crackers in the other.

You hadn’t been eating, nor drinking, and the idea of you neglecting yourself so much sent Mattheo into an uncomfortable state where he found himself riddled with anxiety.

Just friends, right?

He clicks open the door to his room with his elbow, precariously walking over with the tea and crackers in hand as he goes to set them down on his bedside table. His eyes flicker over to you, and a small smile tugs at his lips as he sees you already fast asleep, curled up under the covers. The sight of your slumber brings a warmth to Mattheo's heart. He watches you for a moment, taking in the soft rise and fall of your breath, the delicate features that are usually tense with stress now softened in sleep.

The sight brings him more peace than he wishes to admit, and the looming reality that he had to eventually confront only pressed down on him further.

But for now, he didn’t care.

Because in your peace, he found happiness. And he’s sure he’d never find anything else more beautiful.

Possessed by a wave of sentiment that betrays his usual self, he can’t resist reaching out to tuck a stand of misplaced hair behind your ear. Before he can even comprehend what he’s doing, he leans down and presses a soft , brief kiss to your forehead.

He pulls back and finds himself slightly taken aback by his own actions. The quiet room, filled only with the soft sounds of your sleep, almost seems to amplify the beating of his heart.

Mattheo stands there for a moment, looking at you with a mix of tenderness and confusion. Then, shaking off the unexpected surge of emotions, he retreats to Theodores bed , slipping out of his clothes as he goes to lay down. He had to resist the urge to turn around and catch a glimpse of you once again, and lets out a small sigh as he shuts his eyes.

Mattheo Riddle was not a man of sentiment. He was not soft, and he most certainly did not go out of his way for others.

You had changed that. And he couldn’t figure out whether the prospect was one he was ready to welcome.

[feralwetcat]

(was gonna rb the other post but go off i guess)

boundsmp RRverse au

[RRverse: rick riordans universe of mythologies]

DISCLAIMER!: This is mainly based in CHB because to me it fits, the chaos of it all yk, though there will be mentions of Norse (Valhalla) and Roman (Camp Jupiter) mythology stuff

Im gomna avoid making characters kids of the big three unless it really makes sense so

(this is a long post, so info under the cut!)

Startinh with camps -

I think the Avicane would probably translate into Camp Jupiter somehow, so i definitely think Vast wnd Armor would be Roman demigods

Vast probably has friends in Valhalla, which is the magpies, maybe they're kids of a lesser known god, farther down the line of gods?

I can't exactly explain it but i wanna make Sylph norse? Maybe something like they're at CHB but are actually norse because she just doesnt like being norse and wants to be closer to xers friends? Possibly maybe

Rune is mortal, though that doesn't mean he won't be important:]

I think most everyone else is greek, though that may change

Now! Godly parents:] -

The one i mainly thought about was Sylph, who i think is Lokis kid, especially since its often known that they're genderfluid shapeshifters, which just fits them extremely well

Technically this isn't a godly *parent* but! I think Runes an oracle of delphi, maybe even vibing with the Hephaestus kids, but being fully mortal, it feels fitting to me, it gives him a good plot reason to be around everyone but also still being fully mortal and mostly unrelated to the gods. Probably goes and gets tea with Hestia every week though, yk

Nemo and Gavrin are probably both kids of Iris, i feel as if it fits well! The goddess of rainbows often being associated with creativity, which to me just kinda fits, though Nemo could be a kid of Apollo as well

I refuse to be basic and make every nerd a child of Athena BUT... Im sorry Elwood is an Athena kid, listen- you- yeah.

Mojave is an Apollo kid, send tweet

For Taliesin im tempted to say Hecate but i feel like with all the fraud stuff it doesn't fit well? But for now we'll sit with Hecate

Erin gives off either Athena or Demeter kid vibes, mostly leaning Demeter though, especially with the plant stuff, feels right

Marcel is an Apollo kid, send tweet

Avas probably a Ares kid who found some scruffy oracle on the side of fhe street, picked him up by the scruff of his neck and said "brother" and beat the shit out of everyone about it<3

I know making Virgil a kid of Athena is the best option, but im cool so *no* that bitch is just insanely smart, they're a kid of Mania the god of insanity because HEAR ME OUT. His powers come out through explinations, driving people to insanity by dumping mass amounts of information on them, probably hangs out at the Athena cabin a lot thoigh

Pietro (pieman) i honestly don't know, i was considering Athena (especially because owl), but i actually don't know? So Athena for now especially with the owl stuff, probably has a few owl friends

ASH IS A HERMES KID, SEND FUCKIN TWEET.

Vast *sighs* Mars, hear me out, he was forced to fight, become as strong as he could to please his father, at the same time competing herself to fight away any emotion thay would defy Mars. Hear me out. Though if you wanna bring in the big three i think Jupiter could work as well

Armor is a tough one for me personally, i was tempted to go with Apollo but that didn't sit with me right i guess? So Mercury for now i guess? Feels like the best option to me, plus god of trickery makes sense with an eventual betrayal of camp jupiter:]

PLEASE ADD ONTO THIS !!!!! IF YOU HAVE IDEAS THROW THEM AT ME !!!!!!!!

BONUS BECAUSE YEAH

Viviana as a kid of Hades, or Mania (making her and virgil technically siblings????) I'm thinking Mania because madness is just tasty, but Hades could work if you're dramatic, but Mania also because that girl is fuckin insane- (say hi to ur sister Virgil:>/j/j/j/j)

IM WORKING IN THE PLOTS RN !!!!!!!

[ecogirl2759]

Back at it again with Genocider!

-NOTE-

All of these photos are from the Danganronpa 4コマ KINGS series. I do not own any of the drawings, but these photos are mine. All credit goes to Spike Chunsoft for the characters and the books themselves.

SIDE NOTE:

This part of my 4コマ KINGS series is request-based. If you'd like to see two characters together, let me know and I'll find those pictures! There won't always be enough to fill the image cap, but there are definitely some for everyone!

WARNING:

This will obviously have spoilers in it. If you haven't played past Chapter 2 of the first Danganronpa game, (firstly please go play that but) you might want to come back to this post if you don't want to be spoiled lol.

OKAY, sorry for being gone so long, had to break for the holidays. Let's get back into the meat and potatoes, shall we?

(Back with the long posts lol)

Here's the extended version of this bumper that I posted for Toko's pictures:

Actually, she had quite a few bumpers lol

I think this is my favorite image of Syo

Menacingggggg~~~

Lowkey I like it when Syo's really happy, idk why it's just cute :)

Sometimes people just redraw her sprites and I'm not even mad she looks hella cute here :)

"What's your body count?" Idk man, like.... 42

私が来た！ (iykyk)

She enjoys herself way too much lol

What is it with Syo and always finding everything funny? Like damn gurl I want that mentality--

Idk man she's just fun

I think my favorite Syo is "Syo when she forgets to be this crazy-extra serial killer and is just a regular teenage girl" Syo

Haha same........ I mean not to that extent but--

ASKJFHSAJFHD SYO IS REALLY GOOD AT PUPPETEERING HHHHHHH

Nyoom

Tiny Syo

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'M BACK ON MY BS BCHESSSS!!!

I think she's really fun! I really like how she adds that air of eccentricity to an otherwise sensible and rather mellow cast. Kinda like Loki to the rest of the gods of Norse mythos lol.

I'm so happy someone finally requested Syo lol. Now I just need someone to request Ishida--

Let me know who you want to see next!

Next up: You decide!

Contents || <-Previous : Next->

[lokiinmediasideblog]

"why are people against evil thor depictions?" it's because Thor is traditionally masculine and mostly hurts the people of the assigned evil race, and because most of his fans are cishet white men this is seen as heroic. people of color can see the red flags about his jotun hatred from a mile away and women know how men with anger issues behave behind walls.

I think the most likely and charitable explanation is that they can't let go of the Marvel depiction (or their idea of it). I don't want to generalize the demographics of people that like Thor. IF they have any version Thor as a comfort character they will sand off the edges and pretend it's the sweetest precious cinnamon-roll. People do that with their comfort characters (people do this with Loki depictions too, but it gets criticized WAY MORE with Loki depictions because he's frequently depicted/framed as a villain (and this can be attributed to Loki not being traditionally masculine and Loki being considered "argr", and technically the only one that is undeniably queer even by modern standards because he just does "gay shit" because he wants rather than some ulterior motive.)).

It does annoy me when people act like the Vikings were some paragon of queer acceptance. Then they act like Thor doesn't have plenty of villainous traits to work with such as: anger issues, toxic masculinity, and his favorite hobby of smashing Jotnar into puree with Mjolnir. It's probably because people don't want to deal with problematic elements or implication, and that's fine, as a personal preference. It's a preference I DON'T SHARE. But I understand people disliking reminders of bad things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~GOING ON A TANGENT HERE~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But now you've unlocked my rant about the Asatru and Norse Pagan attempts at organized religion. Thor's definitely more popular than other Norse gods among cishet white men for obvious reasons, which is the prime demographic of the Asatru. Based on the blogs I've seen of them and few online exchanges, they are AWFUL and I block on sight as they'll call you slurs from the 18th century. They're not safe to be around and they're on my shit-list, and they're fucking annoying about Loki and equate him as a Norse Devil, which is why I consider Loki a starter litmus test.

I make a huge deal out of mentioning that I'm not Norse Pagan because I'm an Atheist and would be uncomfortable with it, and the most any deity will get is "blorbo-from-the-myths" type hyperfixation from me and "blorbo-from-myths devil's advocate".

[vylad243]

Okay, Norse fan here! What you need to know is: Odin is a piece of SHIT.

And if Vox was Loki's kid, HE IS IN DANGER.

All of Loki's children have suffered because of Odin:

Hela: Goddess of Death, but was made so because no one was ruling the underworld at the time and Odin just decided she got it and now half her body is continuously rotting.

Fenrisúlfr: is a ginormous wolf that is chained up with a sword through the top of his mouth because of prophecy say he'd eat and kill Odin. Now said prophecy will definitely happen.

Jörmungandr: gaint serpent that was thrown into the earth's oceans as a baby, now encircles the world: often referred to as the world serpent. Was thrown into the ocean because he kills Thor after Thor kills Fenrisúlfr in the Prophecy.

Sleipnir: Loki gave birth to this one: long story short, Thor promised something that wasn't his to promise (I think a Goddesses hand in marriage for finishing a wall?) So Loki shapeshifted into a Mare and led off the builder's magical stallion and a few months later appeared with an 8 legged foal that Odin took as his stead. (Also ALL of Loki's kids have human intellect...so.)

Narfi and Vali, his twin sons...these two are the saddest. Loki fucked up, and to punish him Odin used the twins. To do this he turned Vali into a wolf who then killed Narfi. Odin then used the intestines of both brothers to chain Loki to the ground where a snake dripped acid into his eyes.

So Odin probably killed Vox in the other anon's AU too, especially if he was Loki's favorite, and then to deny Vox respite in his elder sister's domain...like damn Odin. But Odin is an ass like that so.

I knew Odin was an ass but I didn't know it was this bad D: oh no! Alastor's wish to fight a god might come sooner than anticipated. I knew about the horse one because my sister likes to tell me about it and I knew Loki liked to change his gender around (we stan a genderfluid queen 💅🏻 I too am genderfluid so I love Loki) but I didn't realize how fucked up it was. Marvel are cowards for not having this be the true lore in avengers

[alchemicaladarna]

So I'm currently writing a short essay about Norse mythology and I was doing some research on Loki, and some of the stuff about him kind of remind me of q!bad actually.

I'm not really talking from a lore standpoint, but there's a few similarities with their personalities for instance. Also no, I'm not talking about Marvel's rendition of Loki.

The Norse god is much more chaotic. You could say he often toes the line between good and evil, but if you really study the myths, Loki never does anything that's inherently evil. He causes chaos and destruction, but he's not malevolent. He does it because he is bored lmao and he just likes pranking the other gods cuz it's fun! He's just a little guy! Sound familiar?

I'm not saying q!bad and Loki have the exact same qualities, because tbh Loki probably wouldn't care for egg children, but there's definitely similarities that are worth pondering over.

I'm too brain dead to go super in depth rn but Norse mythology has consumed my brain and q!bad lives in my mind rent free so yeah.

Also Loki canonically changes genders. He disguises himself as a woman on several occasions. He is also a shapeshifter, and personally I just think that's cool because those are basically my headcanons for q!bad.

[grievedeeply]

GOD OF WAR RAGNARÖK VALHALLA SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!

also i'm sorry it took me so long to talk about this on here, my dad nearly lost the tip of his finger monday night and it's been a very busy past few days for us all! as of today though, his finger is looking like a finger again

for a free dlc this was an incredible experience and i had no doubts in it

first i have to talk about týr's appearance!!! as týr's number one fan since the day he was announced, seeing the REAL týr was actually so awesome. i always knew he would get along really well with kratos and i'm glad my idea turned out to be true <3 seeing him help kratos through that journey was genuinely so sweet & i really think he has a friend for life in týr

ALSO the fact that we got helios again... crazy. i recognized the voice right away but i'm so happy he showed up. definitely made sense in the story and it was just a nice treat

i cannot even begin to explain my reaction to the blade of olympus. my jaw dropped and i had to pause the game because i was NOT expecting that. so glad to see it again though

magni & modi's appearance ALSO made a ton of sense for kratos bc we all know he feels guilt in his part in their deaths.. but even despite that it was just so nice to see them again!!!

then the ENDING? seeing kratos talk to his younger self, seeing him accept who he was then and vow to become someone worthy of the title of god of war... it's so incredible. he's a completely different person now than he was then and i loved seeing his development across the norse series but also in this dlc. coming to terms with who he was and accepting that he cannot change what he did, but understanding that he is worthy of this position..... beautiful

overall i have 0 criticism. i was hoping to see baldur & heimdall again, but i'm not surprised they didn't show up honestly. still, i'm blown away as always!!

[baalzebubuu]

So. Why exactly do you think the head of HR would chastise and insult one of her bosses for doing something that, while risky, was the only thing that could be done at the time to keep Kronos locked away AND reawaken the Underworld? And WHY would they then treat said boss like a fool for being freaked out over her powers seemingly inverting when, 1.) her powers were working as they usually do up until spring, and 2.) there were few known precedents over what Erebos would do to those that make deals with them (i.e. as far as we can see, Hades didn't get his pre-king powers "inverted")? I understand that you have your gripes with LO (some I can even agree with), but damn, at least be fair with your critiques, and also maybe don't mock these characters for having certain bodily features that are often the focus of negative attention IRL...

(P.S. No Greek god/goddess would accept a nymph insulting them to their face like that - they've done far worse for lesser, and even indirect insults, and a nymph being the "Head of HR" in the Underworld OR Olympus realistically wouldn't save them from that wrath, ESPECIALLY if it's coming from the queens themselves; yes, I also saw your Hera post - Hera may be leery of Demeter at times, but she's far from being genuinely terrified of her (ep. 188 clearly shows this), and please remember that Persephone was in danger due to MINTHE'S jealousy over a damn tabloid photo, not Hera's (you know, the GODDESS OF MARRIAGE, who's allowed to play matchmaker if she sees chemistry between people since THAT'S ONE OF HER JOBS, and who also likely wanted to give Persephone experiences outside of the latter's sheltered life) decision to have Persephone intern in the Underworld.)

All good points! These comics are meant to be mostly skits just what the fans always wanted to say to the characters themselves so I don’t really take them seriously in terms of plot or any of that nature

Also I’m not really much for posting here on tumblr

But DW I’ll answer the best I can with some background lore I have currently in store

Originally Gunnarr was a Humble devoted loyal Mage Serving under Freya the most powerful revered goddess in the Norse Pantheon and they were sent Away under Mysterious Circumstances

And they’re placed in high regard by many connections with Justice goddesses due to their good behavior and devotion to them Which somewhat explains why they’ve gotten away with the BadMouthing certain scenes and if any god ever really does anything to HR Freya definitely won’t be too happy about it and would cause a whole dispute between pantheon

As for Getting away with badmouthing with Hades and Keeping him on his Toes HR and Hades have a very long history working for him for up to thousand or so years

HR and Hades Essentially had a relationship just like Bojack Horseman and Princess Carolyn

And HR essentially is completely done with his Foolishness and 99% of The Olympus Family

To the point of calling them out at with whatever legal problems the gods will cause as even if they DIE being called out HR gonna die knowing he was right and essentially their point proved

they don’t really care if they Die by Their hands

( till they eventually became nicer Because of their poly relationship)

As for the part about Persephone reaching That Tower because of Minthe

I was Planning on making a comic about it soon where HR talks to Minthe and gives her consequences but I never really had that much planning how to execute it right

As for how i usually draw Persephone I was mostly following along to how other creators were doing things, not much thought put into it

However that I will apologize for since i do admit they are in bad taste

Let me know if I’m missing a part that I forgot to explain

Edit: Also i am very sorry this post was poorly written I suck at explanations

And it’s the morning by the time I made this post and I’m heading to work atm

I very much apologize for this lackluster explanation

[digitaldoeslmk]

Hello! Lmk criticism curious anon back again!

Thank you for the in depth answer, it confirmed a lot of what I had guessed were the issues with it, but also brought up a couple points I hasn't fully considered. Your point about how in the west we tend to play with Roman/norse/etc gods freely was something I knew and was part of why I was confused why it seemed so frowned upon with Eastern religions, but I hadn't considered the fact that eastern religions tend to be sort of ignored anyways, so that same sort of dollhouse play would be seen as disrespectful.

I've been meaning to dive further into it, there's a lot there and it's all so interesting. But like you said, I definitely think I'm in the minority for wanting to look into it more. The fandom seems to take a combination of LMK and OSP's summaries as the only jttw media to look at and use, and refuse anything else (some of the stuff they do with ne'zha is exhausting), so I can definitely see where that combined with the much larger audience would make it hard to engage with.

The point about the much larger audience meaning more criticism just by more people is good as well. I've got rough anxiety and seeing so many people seem to rag on it was starting to make me feel bad for enjoying it when it felt like the consensus was starting to be 'anyone who actually knows jttw sees it as disrespectful' and I wanted to understand why that was - or even if it was entirely true in the first place.

But thank you again for the answer, it was helpful. Love your work by the way, both thr LMK and jttw ones. Your jttw wukong is such a shaped design, I love the colors and markings <3

You're more than welcome, anon! Glad I was able to clear things up for you <3

for what it's worth, i know a fair share of folks who adore JTTW and also enjoy LMK to some level, and quite a few who entered the more scholarly side of the fandom thanks to it!! you're not alone in wanting to learn more about the novels and the culture behind them thanks to LMK.

rest assured that you can enjoy LMK critically, doing so isn't the downfall of China or anything. we can always use more reasonable voices in the fandom, who can look at it critically without taking away from the good and genuinely entertaining things in it, and who can help invite more folks into some proper media literacy.

and i'm glad you enjoy my art!! <33 hoping to keep them coming, they bring me much joy and i'm happy sharing it makes people happy too :D

[ladylilithprime]

The Tales Grow Taller On Down The Line

Rated: M

Word count: 21582

Summary: When Bobby Singer got the call from Dean Winchester - "This case is weird even for us and Sam's been compromised, we need help!" - he had expected the hunt to be unusual but still fairly straightforward. Being introduced to Loki, the Norse god of mischief and patron of tricksters, and being told the pagan was Sam's soulmate? Definitely not so straightforward!

Warnings/tags: Soulmate AU, episode rewrite, S2Ep15: Tall Tales, references to canon off-screen violence and noncon/dubcon, descriptions of off-screen minor character death, canon derailment, discussion of Sam's powers, references to demon blood, angels are dicks, canceling the Apocalypse, Gabriel is Loki, Loki is a trickster, Bobby knows and accepts the risks, brief mention of dog death by old age, Dean is both a porn fiend and a prude, mentions of nonmonogamy and polyamory, Gabriel's nicknames

@spnsabrielbang in co-conspiracy with @alexiescherryslurpy ! (Art post here!)

THE MOTEL ROOM just outside Springfield University was stifling with the tense, angry silence that practically vibrated between its occupants. The first of them was pacing irritably in front of the windows, pausing every so often to glance up and either glare furiously at one of the other occupants or cast furtively worried looks at the third. The object of his ire lounged across the bed furthest from the windows with his legs crossed, a large red lollipop periodically vanishing into his mouth and reappearing a few seconds later, all with a very carefully contrived expression of unconcern even as he avoided looking at either of the other two. The third occupant of the room sat at the tiny motel table with his laptop, shoulders tense and set, face expressionless as he typed or clicked, paging through paragraphs of information almost faster than they could load in a valiant effort to avoid looking at or even acknowledging the man who kept pacing.

A knock on the door drew the attention of two out of three sets of eyes, and then Dean Winchester scrambled to get the door open. "Bobby! Thank fuck you're here, man!"

"Good to see you, too," Bobby Singer replied dubiously as he gave Dean a concerned once-over. "You said it was an emergency, but you don't look hurt. Where's Sam?"

"Over here, Bobby," Sam Winchester called from the computer, not looking up from the screen even as he waved. "And it's not actually an emergency, no matter what Dean thinks. He just doesn't like what I told him and thinks you'll give him a different answer."

"Won't know until you tell me what's going on," Bobby pointed out as he stepped fully into the room, finally spotting the third occupant on the bed. "And who's this?"

"Part of the problem," Dean growled, glaring at the figure who flipped him off without looking.

"Dean," Sam scolded, a wealth of exasperation in his tone. Finally looking up from his computer, the younger Winchester brother gave Bobby an apologetic smile that looked more like a grimace. "It's complicated, but not a problem, or at least it doesn't have to be. Bobby Singer, meet Loki, Norse god of mischief and fire, patron of tricksters and pranksters... and my soulmate."

There was a moment of silence. Bobby surveyed the faces of all three individuals in the room, from Dean's scowling face and disbelieving eyeroll to Sam's strained projection of calm over acute distress mingled with grim certainty, to the third man who apparently wasn't even actually a human man but a god and was looking at Sam now with surprise and a certain amount of his own uncertainty. Like he hadn't expected Sam to say that and didn't quite know what to make of him. Bobby heaved a sigh.

"I'm gonna need a drink for this one," he informed the three of them.

Dean went and got out a bottle of whiskey.

Read the rest on AO3

[mint-in-the-moonlight]

interpreting Boethiah and the daedra

i'm mostly basing this on my understanding of lore from playing skyrim and a little bit of morrowind, oblivion and eso. if anything i say is inaccurate, feel free to correct me.

as i've been going through sources and building my worship of the aedra and daedra in the last few days i've noticed something. the way that especially the daedra are presented in the lore feels extremely one-sided. that is not to say this is true for every single piece of lore, as i have definitely not gone through all of them but the daedra are very often just seen as the "evil" gods, especially in the later games, making it hard to build any kind of "not evil" worship.

i can see this as a kind of storytelling choice made for the games and other related media but what i seem to very strongly miss is the interpretations of deities from their worshippers and more neutral or even positive points of view. the majority opinion within the games seems to be of the daedra as purely evil and even in doing the daedric quests, i'm particularly thinking of skyrim here, the player is constantly reminded of this perceived "evil" and the tasks given by the daedra often include murder, deception and other unsavoury acts.

for example, on the unofficial elder scrolls pages site, Boethiah is described as presiding over "deceit, conspiracy, secret plots of murder, assassination, treason, and unlawful overthrow of authority" (introduction, link). at face value, this seems like a deity concerned with a lot of things harmful both to an individual worshipper and their society. practically, maybe this deity would be invoked in specific situations where those domains are relevant, but would not be appropriate for regular or daily worship. though we do know that at least the ashlanders, and the dunmer more generally did worship them regularly, together with the other "good daedra" Mephala and Azura.

so, how can we interpret the daedra, and here Boethiah specifically as an example, to be more reflective of such a regular worship? well, first we need to let go of the "evil god" label. while many daedra may be associated with outright evil domains and acts, we are basically engaging with TES lore as mythology here and thus can view them as just that - myths, stories designed to share a deity's domain and/or personality, and can contain the storyteller's personal opinions and biases. i'm drawing on my understanding of the norse deity Loki and how he is often framed as "the norse devil" by the christian author of the prose edda, and the work i personally did in finding a differing interpretation of Loki besides "the guy who i basically responsible for the end of the world".

anyways, so how else could we see Boethiah? well, from the list i shared earlier from the UESP Wiki it seems that Boethiah could be broadly associated with politics, violence and upheaval. in the current political climate which is, generally speaking, tense and volatile, Boethiah could be a deity associated with resistance to the status quo, with bringing about a new, better world. this could also be on a smaller scale, Boethiah could be associated with rebellion against authority and those in power who use it against the less fortunate, or in personal relationships, dealing with someone who is restrictive or oppressive. more individually, i've seen others associate Boethiah with becoming the best version of yourself and rising above your hardships. really, the theme seems to be fighting some adversary, often bigger than you and coming out on top.

of course, in interactions with the deity people can come to many differing and individualised interpretations. i think this kind of re-interpretation is even more important when approaching the daedra that are not labeled "good", and who may seem as presiding over a lot of bad stuff, though who many people can find value in worshipping. anyways i thought it necessary to point out the bad rep that a lot of the daedra have and how we can engage with them and interpret them differently from the text of the games, letting go of a lot of the stigma that is found around daedra worship.

[jb2856]

Hello lovely! I may be a wee bit too high but I just got a very good idea maybe? Din Djarin x reader but Viking AU maybe? I might just be listening to too much Peyton parish but i thought of din while hearing Valhalla calling and it conjured up something wild lol

Hmmmm let’s see….

Viking!Din Djarin x Gn!Reader

Tags/Warnings: 16+, “enemies” to lovers, use of you/you’re, slightly smutty, slllliiightttt body description (just Din being taller/bulkier), Din is a little out of character tbh kind of seems like a younger version?(characters are over 18!!), AU

AN: listen, the only things I really know about Vikings is a single book I read called, Sky In The Deep, a partial playthru of Assassin’s Creed Valhalla and some random episodes of Vikings. (Plus some easy Norse Mythology lol) So everything in this is based on GOOGLED things, NO clue if they’re actually correct sorry 😂. If you want to call me out on things If they’re wrong…definitely do please!

Requests are OPEN, ask away!

Summary: You and Din hate eachother, after he wins a bet you have to kiss him. Reluctantly?

———————————————————————————

You glare, ticking your jaw as he sits across from you. He’s spread out in his chair, his legs wide open, his body leaned back in the chair. Taking a huge chuck out of a loaf of bread, he chews obnoxiously, a smirk planted on his plump lips.

He’s fucking smug as shit.

Bastard.

You’d slap that fucking smirk right off his face right now if you could, too bad attacking the jarls son would get you killed. Nevermind the fact you are close family friends, your parents would still punish you both, for acting like children in public.

As if he can hear what you’re thinking he huffs a breath through his nose, widens his smirk, and knocks his fur stuffed boot against your own.

“Enough!” You hissed quietly against your teeth.

He chews, still fucking smirking. “Don’t be upset.” He shrugs his stupid…strong, broad…shoulders.

“You’re a child.” You insist, as you scuff your chair back against the stone floors of the Hall and push your plate. He quickly rises with you and follows you out into the snow. It almost gives you pleasure to know that even though he’s an asshole and you hate him, and he hates you, he’ll still follow you like a lost dog.

“Leave me.” You grumble.

“No, you lost,” he says gruffly. “You have to pay up.” You roll your eyes as you continue walking to your home

“No.” You stated, “I don’t.”

You had been training in a group, and you two had been pit against each other. Before you began, he had whispered to you, bet you that if he won you had to kiss him, and believing in yourself a little too much, apparently, you took him up on it.

You lost. Obviously.

It had been in sword combat. He had arced his blade, and taken you off guard, knocking your own from your hand. He had then kicked at your stomach, effectively knocking you on your ass. He’d ridden you to the ground, pinning you down. His body was bulkier than yours, the weight leaving your lungs unable to expand. the embarrassment of losing so quickly and being trapped under him caused heat to redden your face and heat your entire body. You’d tapped. He’d won. You’d lost.

He had jumped up, leaving you there prone on the muddy frost bitten grass. You were huffing, watching slightly stunned as he slapped hands, and patted backs with a few other guys.

You grumbled as you brushed yourself off, and retrieved your sword, your face still burning.

Stupid Din and his stupid shiny silver armor, most men and women here don’t wear it, putting their faith in the Gods instead. But he doesn’t care. He’s arrogant. He likes the look, likes to be intimidating. You knew who he really was though, you saw through it. You’d witnessed his facade’s creation.

His helmet is brilliant, you will give him that one. A polished silver helm with a T visor cut out, the middle line stopping around the arch of his nose. His eyes and mouth just barely visible underneath.

Looking at him sometimes causes a pull in your stomach, a feeling that heats your entire body. Something like what just happened.

Gods.

Fuck.

Fuck, no!

Asshole.

Despite…that, you do admire him, his skill is severe. He works hard, helps around. You notice often he worries over the incapable women and children, he had a love for the people. For their safety and well-being.

You shake your head, clearing your thoughts. Arriving at your home, quickly opening the door you try to close him out, but a large, wide hand stops it from closing. Din then shoulders his way in and instead closes it behind him, effectively isolating you inside. Together. Alone.

Trying a little too hard, you glare at him, your hands on your hips. You swallow thickly.

He steps closer, causing you to shiver slightly.

Why are you excited? He’s an asshole.

One more step, and he’s in front of you.

Your lashes flutter, refusing to move your eyes up to his. He’s taller, by at least half a foot.

“Look at me.” He practically growls. You bite your lip, your chest filling with anticipation.

What will he do? How will he kiss you?

Will it be quick and chaste? Or deep and passionate? Will he use his tongue? Gods you hope so…

You shift your eyes up slowly, meeting his deep brown ones. He shifts his hands to his sword, removing it from his person, setting gently on your table. Then he reaches and does the same to yours. You just stare as he does it, not preventing his actions, all the while staring into his eyes.

He’s only become more beautiful as he’s aged, the fine lines growing on his face often mesmerized you. You grew up together, you’ve always picked on eachother. You used to be snot nosed kids who ran around the village, now you’d both aged into fantastic deadly warriors.

His hand comes up to cradle your face, the gentle touch strange compared to his rough, calloused hands.

Have you always felt this deep longing for him?

Din’s smug smirk widens, clear amusement shined in his eyes. Now glancing between your own eyes, his tick down quickly to your lips and back up again.

Never mind you still hate him.

But you also ache for him, you want him so bad. You want his mouth on you, yours on his. Him inside you, Gods.

Does he feel the same?

Finally his lips brush yours, your lids falling closed at the sensation. He pulls away slightly with a quiet smack. Hesitating only for a second before coming back in and meeting your lips once again, deepening the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours, you moan at the sensation. His hands start to wander, feeling anywhere he can manage. Your neck, your sides, your ass. Then he’s pushing you backwards across the room, your back hitting the ladder to your loft. Your hands are brushing through his hair, gripping his neck when he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Fuck..” you choke out at the sensation, as his scent surrounds you.

He captures your lips once again, pulling back slightly. You’re both panting, breaths mingling.

You look into each others eyes, silently agreeing to continue.

You slide down from his hips, turning quickly to climb up the ladder, his hands grabbing your waist.

A new excitement blossoming in your chest.

You make it maybe two steps before you both hear the blaring of the raid horn, instantly you’re both on guard. Your village was in a hotspot for raids.

You slide back down the rungs, your battle mentality slipping in. You both rush for your weapons, luckily only having taken one off. Before you open your door, his hand brushes yours, catching yours. He looks at you sharply, expressing every emotion he possibly can.

We will continue this later.

I don’t actually hate you.

Be careful.

Stay safe.

I love you.

“To Valhalla!” He shouts.

You nod once, sharply. Thinning your lips, your mouth setting in determination.

“To Valhalla.”

P.S. I hope you enjoyed anon! Thank you thank you thank you for paying attention to me!! 💚💚💚

[broomsick]

for the ask game- pluto + morrigan

Pluto: Where do you think we go when we die?

Morrigan: What do you think happens when we die?

These types of questions are always the toughest ones for me to answer. That's because I'm not one to dwell on toughts of death often. It's both a hard topic, and a complicated one for me to think about. The possibilities seem so endless that it's almost dizzying. I'm heavily interested in all things theology, and I do have opinions on a lot of topics that concern it. However, talk of an afterlife, or absence of it, has never really been my cup of tea. I have not researched it much in the past! To put it simply, my opinions on the matter are rather unclear (disappointingly so!). Nordic tradition gives us a truckload of different- and often conflicting- possible destinations for the souls of the dead. So many in fact, that it's near impossible to integrate all of them into one's spirituality.

I was never one to give a lot of credit to the idea of reincarnation, but I'm open to the concept. One of my close heathen friends is a firm believer in past lives, and I trust her judgement, but still, it's not a concept that's easy for me to fathom. Although if I were to consult a medium or another spiritual worker at some point, I would definitely ask what they believe my past lives could have been! Just out of curiosity.

Before I became pagan, I was pretty sure that death was a complete end. To me, it meant total emptiness in the most atheistic sense. However, theologically-speaking, to believe in the divine often leads to three other obligatory concepts: that humans have some kind of "reason" for being, that there is a soul and that therefore, there is an afterlife. Even if those two latter points are tighty dependent on one another, the idea of "soul" is still quite hazy to me and, I'm sure, to many other theists. For this reason, I'm still juggling with the different possibilities of what an "afterlife" might look like. Though I was never Christian, I'm quite aware of the concept of an afterlife where the "good" go, and one where the "bad" are sent. It's not something I'm very fond of, and since to me, nothing is ever truly black or white, I doubt that an afterlife would be so subjective and uncompromising. That's why I generally envision the afterlife as being a "second life" of sorts. Helheim is sometimes described in a similar way, and to me, it's not a realm of punishment but rather of life, ironically enough.

Around bonfires or at restaurant tables, me and a few of my heathen friends sometimes bring up Valhalla. If we've had a long week, or if we're going through difficult moments, we joke around and go: "At least we'll go to Valhalla in the end!". It's a vision of the afterlife that I'm very fond of, and despite it not being very popular in norse pagan online spaces, it's comforting to me. Details of Valhalla have become many with time, with the fighting and the general military vibe of it having grown out of proportions with each work, for effect. But in the end, to me at least, Valhalla comes down to two major points: you get to meet the Gods you have worshipped, and you get to reunite with loved ones who have passed, to have fun without worries. "But Valhalla is not the norse heaven!" I'm quite aware of this, and it's something I myself have posted about in the past. I'm not suggesting a sort of "perfect realm" of pure joy, but rather an afterlife where it's possible for one to enjoy the joys of life, even in death. I'm aware that this vision of the afterlife conflicts with the very neutral "second life" I mentionned earlier. See it this way: this second life of sorts, which is neither "good" nor "bad", can carry my hopes of a happy afterlife. And since we'll never truly know what comes after death, I believe that we're allowed to hope. This might make me sound idealistic, but hope is still crucial to me! Both in my life and within my spirituality.

[scaly-freaks]

I'm not sure if you've already answered this but in like modern aus what do u think Amara and Aegon's music tastes r like?

I might have, but I don't remember doing it, so this is gonna count as the first time.

I know there's kind of a fandom consensus that Aegon is probably the punk/screamo guy, but dare I say, full metalhead? You've got your classics like Rammstein, Lamb of God, Slipknot, Slayer, Megadeth and maybe a few norse folk metal bands from the 21st century in there too. But his guilty pleasures are ABBA and Whitney and Cher (Alicent turned him onto those). From time to time, he's a full on 90s hiphop listener too, so it depends on his mood probably.

Amara would definitely be an Ethel Cain girlie (she's just like me fr) and a huge Fleetwood Mac fan (has obsessively scoured all articles about Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham and made it her whole personality for a while). She's a Björk fan too (and so is Aegon). Also PJ Harvey and Lana Del Rey and Radiohead . Big listener to desi songs too, especially ones from Coke Studio. Her guilty pleasures are probably Eurotrash anthems from the 90s and 00s *-*

[flysafepapi]

Vikings ask ragnarsson reaction to seeing each other in vallhala

Okay, I haven’t thought as much about this, but here goes. (This is assuming they all made it there, which wouldn’t be the case for a few of them but we’re gonna ignore that for this.) (I apologise in advance for the wall of text. None of this is based in fact, only my opinions.)

Bjorn’s reaction would be mixed, both happy to see them there, probably still irritated about how everything ended up. Definitely still pissed at Hvitserk about Lagertha, but I think they’d both work it out after fighting to the death a few hundred times. I can’t see him and Ivar becoming friendly even in the afterlife, they both represent two different aspects of Ragnar way too strongly to ever get along for more than a few minutes at a time.

Ubbe, I feel, would mostly be happy that his family is back together again, regardless of how everything ended when they were all alive. Maybe a little less enthused to see Bjorn again, because I feel like, as the second oldest/oldest of Ragnar and Aslaug’s children, there’d be a little too much competition between them, even if they’d both never call it that. (We all know they’d be still vying for their father’s attention as they’re both, through different mothers, his oldest)

Hvitserk is the true middle child (I can relate bc me and my brother are both the middle children of all our siblings), so while he’s probably going to be hesitant at first, he’s absolutely the peacemaker of the family, so he’s gonna be doing the Absolute Most™️ to get everyone to either apologise to eachother for all the shit they did to eachother (extremely unlikely when dealing with Ivar) or just to at least pretend it never happened and move past it (much more plausible) Definitely goes towards Ivar first, a little because Ivar is not-so-secretly his favourite, but because a thousand years spent in the afterlife couldn’t make him drop the habit of making sure Ivar wasn’t being an idiot and overexerting himself. (It was supposed to be Ubbe’s job as the oldest but it was always Hvitserk that took over that instead.)

Sigurd is the tricky one, because he wasn’t really developed much in the series, and what little development we did get wasn’t the positive kind, so it’s difficult to say what I think his reaction would be. There’d be a heavy amount of annoyance in there, that “Oh my god, I can’t escape these people even when I’m dead” kind, but I think the more time that goes by, the more he’d mellow out and actually stop being so standoffish all the time. Except when it comes to Ivar. Those two are never making up, ever, being within six feet of eachother either ends in one getting killed until they come back the next day (I don’t know the exact time, I don’t know much Norse mythology), or they’re going to act like the other doesn’t even exist.

Ivar’s secretly going to be happy to see them again, minus Sigurd, but would never, ever admit it. Honestly I’m sure he would rather do literally anything else than tell Bjorn that maybe he doesn’t hate the mere sight of him. Hvitserk gets a pass on that, only when Ivar is sure they’re alone, and only if he promises never to ever tell anyone else. Gotta keep his reputation, of course. (Floki also gets another pass, but no one is surprised by that one, anyone with eyes could see that Floki absolutely has a favourite and it’s Ivar.)