#odin's spear

[gifts-of-heimdall-runes]

Norse Gods: Discovering a Cult of Odin

Original Image: 'Odin' by Djvenom45 [DeviantArt] [slightly edited!]

Posted: 28th June 2023

[ogoradraws]

Hangman Odin

[finngualart]

some doodles of this guy

[experimentjr]

THE MAN HIMSELF IS REDESIGNED!!!

Father of men; gautr of men; allfather; the aged gautr; delight of Frigg; eagle head; attacking rider; lord of Æsir; friend of wealth; enemy of the wolf; baldr's father; flaming eye; speak shaker, flashing eye and etc are but a few of Odin's many epithets. Father of Thor, Baldr ou Meili, Höðr, Heimdallr, Vali, Hermóðr, Hildólfr, Nepr, Sigi, Sigrlami, Skjöldr, Ítreksjóð, Sæmingr, Gauti, Vegdagr, Viglek, Winta, Casere, Saxnōt and many more, he is as old as is wise and as wise as he is power-hunger.

Son of Borr, he and his brother's Vili and Vé were the ones that slayed Ymir and from his body, created Asgard, Midgard and some other realms as well. With the flood that came with Ymir's death, Odin was also the indirect killer of hundreds of other giants in the great flood. With the Earth deity he'd created with a part of Ymir's flesh, he had Thor. With the tides, he had Heimdallr. With Frigg/Freyja, he had Baldr and Höðr. With Gríðr he had Váli and Víðarr and some many more with countless women.

With his hunger for power and knowledge, he gave his hunger for meat in exchange for two of Veðrfölnir's children Huginn and Muninn so he could be updated from the realms of everything; he exchanged of one of his eyes to drink from Mímisbrunnr; he stole from Suttungr's kingdom the mead of poetry and tricked Gunnlöð, who was guarding the mead into letting him take a sip from each night he spent with her. Three nights were spent and three sips he took, but each sip he took, each one of the three barrels he emptied and left the kingdom, leaving Gunnlöð bearing his child. These were only few of his countless stories after knowledge and power and maybe more will come in the future >:) but only future will tell.

He is designed at last!!! Dang I wanted so much to redesign Odin and he finally looks more overbearing, along his spear that looks way more powerful now, but he is not the last god that will be redesigned so keep in touch with my posts and even P4TR30N for exclusive and early content >:D

OLD ODIN

[grraveryl]

...How intense. Just like a flame.

[hobgobbin]

I wonder if the reason they gave Tyr both hands in GOWR is because with the giant’s prophecies the depictions of him (figure with a helmet, beard, and spear) are actually supposed to be Kratos (has beard and spear at least by the end of the game) and it would be Too Obvious the difference between them if prophecies involving Tyr were missing a hand and the ones that are supposed to be Kratos have both

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

Candles and Broomsticks

"Tell me Elizabeth, how come it's taking so long for any of the children to be baptized?"

Lizzie causally sipped her tea as she speaks with a visit of one of the "mother friends" she "made" over the one year Bella attend a special school. "Well me and my husband never really thought to baptized Bella. And Albert, Anthony, and Rachel just aren't cause Ciel and his wife chose not to. It's not the end of the world." The red head huffs and fans her fan near her face, her long lashes fluttering as her blue gems roll. She is a opposite of Lizzie you see, from her hair to her sharp facial features compared to Lizzie's soft, to her outfit that isn't so cute and mature as Lizzie's but more tight formal that shows she's a prize of the doctor she wedded. Her name is Lady Lenora Bell, wife of a Lord Doctor Arthur Bell, and has a daughter Bella's age named Marge who's just like her mother and not in the pleasant way Lizzie would've hoped.

It still boggles her mind how she wound up accepting her into her home.

"On a off topic, is your husband arriving for the party? I heard some gossip on it while I was in London." Asked Lenora with a smile of her dark red lipstick. Lizzie's heart fluttered in her chest as she smiles and speaks, "Yes, of course my darling husband will attend. This is a very special day for him after all."

Indeed, just down the road is a carriage being driven by the Phantomhive's chef and most special butler in the spring air. "Ahh, can't wait to pick up my lil Amelia." Said Bard after taking a large breath in the spring air. Sebastian chuckles beside him, "You saw her last week. Though I do agree with your words Bardroy."

Inside the carriage are a total of five adults and five children who sit excited, a little girl's legs kick in her seat as she giggles. "I take it you're excited Rachel?" Asked a boy with dark wisps of black hair that cover his ears, skin a pale smooth beige, and big lovely brown eyes behind brown ribbed thin glasses dressed nicely in a white button up and brown slacks with suspenders to match and a black coat over it. Rachel giggles and nods happily, causing her parents to smile.

The scent of yummy food and sweet cakes fills the senses of everyone, the sounds of music and happy voices fells the ears of everyone. The party was in full bliss and there wasn't a singe frown upon a face. Beside the desert table stands Bella, her long black hair in waves down her back with a lovely blue gem necklace draped around her neck tightly dressed in a lovely gown that brings a gentle glow of her pale skin and a pop of her emerald eyes. With her are many teens her age dressed all lovely as well with happy smiles and sparkling eyes. "Wow Bella, the dress is so pretty!" "Thank you. My father and our tailor helped make it."

Across the way in the ballroom stands Ciel and a man whom he hasn't seen in a long while, a Chinese man dressed in emerald greens and sparkling golds. Lau brought his glass to his lips and took a sip of his shiny golden drink before speaking, "My my, doesn't that dress look familiar. At least the fabrics. Perhaps a certain party connected to a case?" The Earl chuckles softly yet meekly, "Thank goodness that dress is being used for better use." The two were interrupted by a beauty, a man with fair blond hair long and tied in a small pony tail and skin a pale peach color with beautiful crimson eyes, dressed in a formal dark green suit with a beautiful sapphire blue cummerbund. "Oh Joanne!"

Joanne smiles in return and spoke, "How are you, we haven't seen each other since Christmas." "I've been doing well, and you?" "Very well." Suddenly, Ciel paused, "If you're here than certainly so is-" He turns his body and quickly grabs hold of two children, one girl who's 7 and a boy who's 9, one girl with shoulder long black hair and big green eyes of emerald blue and a button nose booped with flushed blush and freckles and a boy with the same shade of black short hair and big brown eyes. "Hi uncle Ciel!" Ciel chuckles and hugs them tightly, his voice dipped in a childish way, "You were sneaking up on your dear uncle weren't you??"

Odin and Violet Sullivan-Harcourt, sweetest little angels you'll ever meet everyone will claim. Over the years it came a shock to the Phantomhive household to hear Joanne Harcourt was interested in courting the very lovely mad genius she is of Sieglinde Sullivan, the German girl Ciel and Sebastian took in and funded for everything she needed.

"My what adorable children you have Sir Harcourt."

The three adults and two children stop and look at Mrs Lenora walking over with a wine glass in one hand now wearing a lovely robin blue dress that tightly hugs the cleavage. With a hum she leans down to look at the children more after Ciel stood up straight, "Such adorable children indeed. Though, I must say Miss Violet's eyes are a surprise twist." The man looks at his school friend as he looks to his children and smile softly, "Yes, well, it's a family trait." He pauses. "Well, that is to say from my family. My grandmother was rumored to have such lovely blue eyes." Though he smiles, Ciel can sense Joanne's shift of things. A shift he's familiar well. A shift to never be truly honest.

A big thing of change over time was Ciel, and not just him marrying and having children, he is no longer a boy seeking revenge but instead a man though wounded accepts life's odd path of surprises. With him in that change was a familiar face, a mirror face if you will, of his brother from the dead away from the decaying fire and memories. It was a begging plea of Undertaker after his madness parade of cheating death and justice finally ended for Ciel and Sebastian to please keep him living until his final breath when Sebastian devours his soul with his wife's. It wasn't easy at first, framing your brother for murder can do that to you, but over time the two found peace. Hell, with help from Sieglinde they found a way to help him age normally with his healthy way of blood transfusion. And along that time the girl and boy simply grew close. Maybe it was the sense of unable to move about freely or books, who knows, what they do know is the two are very close, two souls as one. Around this time was when Joanne began to express courting her. You can ask anyone and you'll get a different story how the three came to be with a public wedding of Joanne and Sieglinde and then a secret wedding of Sieglinde and the forgotten twin, but the answer is the same.

No one knows the truth of Violet's true father.

Ciel glanced to his left and smiled at Xiu talking with two girls, one 8 year old with long straight brown hair and brown eyes and one smaller sized 7 year old with long thick curly dark brown hair and big brown eyes with small speckles of green if you look closely, and smiles. Amelia, the daughter of Midford's maid Paula and the Phantomhive's chef Bardroy. Mariposa, the daughter of Phantomhive's lovely gardener Finnian and his lovely wife Valentina.

"Why invite servants children to such a party? They'll bring the mood down."

That sentence snaps Ciel out his thoughts as he turned to Lenora, but before he could snap at her she has walked away giggling. "You know, I don't quite like her my Lord." Said Lau with venom dripping from his words.

The room fell silent with the sound of a gentle tap of a glass, making everyone turn their heads to the direction of the noise to the handsome man with dark hair combed back wearing a white suit with a dark purple pink cummerbund and matching tie with a pearl broach clipped to the center, holding a glass of wine in one hand and holding Lizzie dressed in a lovely red dress of black lace beside him. "Thank you all for coming to the birthday celebration of Lizzie's and I's lovely daughter Bella. Thirteen years ago today my life was simple darkness until she came into the world and lit it up as the stars in the sky. A light I never realized I needed until the day came." Said he as he looks to Bella who smiles bashfully. Hannah leans to Angela, both dressed in dark purples and whites, and whispers, "How much do you want to bet someone will start crying?" This earned a giggle in which she smiles. After a moment, a large cake of four lairs coated in candles gets carted in by the Phantomhive servants and the kitchen staff of the Midford manor, stopping right by the girl in pink. With her smiling softly everyone began to sing, some singing in different languages, but not one person can copy the look of warmth that Sebastian holds as he watches her. Within a blink he sees the image of him holding a small infant girl crying before coming back to view to see Bella blow her candles out firmly.

It's strange, demons shouldn't cry, but he can feel his eyes grow misty since her birth.

Offical part three of my current fics of my Black Butler Next Gen AU for @nullb1rdbones, @annoyinglyshinycherryblossom, @sebalizzie, @docmartensanddietcoke, and @onehellofashadynerd

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

[felrend]

Fuck around and find out, Odin

[lonepower]

ROSHAUN. ROSHAUN. IT'S FUCKING ROSHAUN

[gifts-of-heimdall-runes]

Source: MJOLNIR [Facebook]

[h34vybottom]

Cress Albane (Battle Spear)

[ivaldisonsforge]

Gungnir spear pendant

Introducing our Gungnir Spear Pendant, a stunning piece of handmade Viking jewelry crafted from sterling silver. • Material: 925 Sterling Silver • Height - 1.57 inches (4 cm) • Weight - approx. 0.17 oz (5 grams)

[kokonoko84]

Odin I am called now, Terrible One I was called before,

they called me Thund before that,

Vak and Skilfing, Vafud and Hroptatyr,

Gaut and Ialk among the gods,

Ofnir and Svafnir, all these I think stem from me alone.

[osterby]

I clicked "fandom art", but it's Odin on Yggdrasil. It could also have counted as "famous person".

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

What are the black butler next generation characters birthdays?

Hey there!

Brair - October 2nd, 1894

Bella - May 23rd, 1895

Xiu - February 27th, 1895

Noel - December 27th, 1894

Janya - August 17th (you'll meet her don't worry)

Albert - December 15th, 1898

Anthony - October 23rd, 1899

Odin - October 30th, 1899

Rachel - April 29th, 1900

Violet - July 6th, 1900

Mariposa - September 24th, 1900

Amelia - October 5th, 1900

The dates may not be 100% accurate in math but this is what I got. I have a folder full of stuff for them now and I had a list of things for each kid that'll get a focus throughout the series

[lokisgoodgirl]

Metal & Leather [Loki Odinson x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Prince Loki can't get to you soon enough after an arduous battle. (Yes, another one of those!😇) w/c 1.2k Warnings: Minors DNI. Smut/Fluff. Mild angst. Mild descriptions of injury. Loki x female reader.

The Einherjar’s roar swells higher, heating the cool night air. You run to your balcony overlooking the balustrade as Loki strides towards his mother and father standing poised at the furthest reach, waiting to welcome him: to congratulate him.

The crowds go crazy as Odin hands him something. One abrupt bow, Loki wrote in his letter from the victorious battlefield. One abrupt bow, and I make for my true reward without delay. Do not come to the ceremony. The underline had ripped the paper.

“Is that an order?” you’d asked the empty room while you imagined the wolfish glint of his smile as he wrote it. And now, he was finally here. He was finally home. The nights were long on the realm’s furthest battlefields, and although his victory had been by all accounts swift it still took weeks. Thirteen, to be exact.

Now, you can see the flutter of his cape as he makes a show of turning and striding from the dais where Odin and Frigga stand. He’s coming.

You turn, perching on the stone. You didn’t bother getting dressed properly, just a chiffon open-fronted robe tied loose at the waist. Warm air sighs over your skin as you wait, and wait. The main event is right here: and it starts in five…four…three— There’s an abrupt knock at the door. “Come,” you call sweetly. Loki pushes it open. His chin is lowered to the glint of his metal breastplate, his shadowed eyes swimming with promise in the flickering gloom. The hand curled around the ceremonial spear he just received from Odin tightens when he sees you, and his lips curl in a smile. Dark hair spills over his exaggerated, armour-clad shoulders and with a low whisper, the spear vanishes.

“The demon-brothels of Musselheim left much to be desired,” Loki sniffs with a sarcasm that can’t mask the affection in his eyes. “Heated in the most inconvenient of ways.” You search his face, noting the glint of his eyes and the twitch of his thin lips. “You’re terrible.”

He strides across the room, cape blooming like ink through water, and gathers you in his arms. “And I’m yours,” he replies as he dips and lifts your legs around his waist. "Aren't you glad, darling? In all my terrible, terrible glory."

The heat still hangs on his leathers from the Bifrost.

His lips slam into yours at force, the thud of his boots and the crisp rustle of his cloak making your thighs tighten. He nudges you higher, and eager fingers slip past his temples, fisting his hair, noting the ghost of bruises that shadow his face. Loki’s fingers pull at the ribbons holding your robe together, their slither between his calloused fingers and the nip of Asgard’s night air against your nipples flooding your brain. He’s home, he’s here, he’s safe. Thank you; thank you.

Your pussy slips against the metal buckle flush to his abdomen, and Loki’s kiss wanes. He pulls back as you’re rested on the wide flat of the balcony wall, towering over you like the victorious god he is. You reach to brush his tabard aside, but a hand flies out to stop it.

“No,” he says hoarsely, and for the first time you see the raw abrasions on his knuckles, the purple cloud edging from his wrist armour. He trails a finger down the valley of your throat, between the swell of your breasts. “My love..” The softness of his voice so at odds with the battle-weary figure he cuts. He never thinks you want him like this. Not at first: coated in the evidence of his destruction. You reach tentatively for his leathers, and this time he lets you brush the flap aside. Loki of Asgard stiffens as you unlace him, pulling him closer, kissing him deep. “My love,” you whisper against his heated, gritty skin. A shiver wrenches through him. When Loki returns from war, all the lust he’s re-directed bubbles over. This time is no different. You feel his fingers run over your hair, grabbing a clutch, tilting your head back. Loki’s mouth descends on your exposed neck: biting, sucking, groaning his need for you against the delicate, willing flesh. There’s a smack of metal against leather, a grunt as he positions himself between your spread legs. The balcony stone scrapes against the back of your thighs as he places a palm on your lower spine, protecting you from the drop. And then, he’s inside you. His cock claims the deepest part of you, and Loki swears as he bottoms out with a decisive thrust.

With one hand hanging against his neck, and the other gripping the belt slung over his shoulder, you ride the devastating thrusts he delivers with each jangling snap of his hips. Loki’s cock, and his love, are the missing pieces of you—the parts he takes whenever he leaves to fulfil his duty. But this is his duty, and you both know it. Ragged gasps scrape from Loki’s throat, his fingertips clawing against your back so desperately you know the truth of his desire will be marked on you by the night’s end. Purple, blue; just like the evidence of violence painted on his skin.

He curls close, and you wrap both arms around his neck, pulling the god’s face closer into the curve of your shoulder.

Loki’s illusion has wavered. His hair is matted, crisped with sweat and battle and bifrost and you inhale deeply, willing your love for him to wash it all away. His thrusts are sloppy now, out of time with the fiery grunts blasting against the shell of your ear. He smells like metal, and leather – and gods, you never want anything else.

“I’ll always come home to you,” he says, and you know he’s picturing the enemies he had to slay to get here. He never tells you everything of what he’s seen—but it changes him. It makes his love fiercer. The crowd packing the balustrade cheers at the conclusion of some speech: Thor’s, probably. But Loki’s body draws like a bow and you feel the tighten of his jaw against your neck. “I can’t stop it,” he pants, and you buck harder against him. There will be time for your pleasure later—Loki will make sure of it. In the baths, in the bed you share, in the blankets and pillows strewn through slats of amber sunlight on the endless days with him by your side. For now, in the torch-lit gloom where he wears the stains of hard-won victory, he needs this: he needs you. And right now, your pleasure is bringing his home.

The tunic, warm from your friction, scrapes your inner thighs as he seals his cock inside you once, twice, three times. On the fourth, he holds the throbbing tip at the entrance to your slit, his wild eyes meeting yours. “All for you,” he gasps, and his eyebrows peak.

Everything: he means everything. The sacrifice, the vulnerability he shares— the fact you’d only need to ask and he would tear the sky down in your name. Your lips touch, and he groans happily as he sinks inside a final, lingering time.

The force of his cum hits the back of your cunt and his whole body tightens. A tremble works through him while the grip on your back falters, and his knees wobble. He pulls you close, groaning his climax into your mouth; the heat of his breath and the fury of his love rippling across every nerve in your body. Below, drums begin: lyres, chanting, prayer. “You’re home,” you whisper, slotting your nose at the side of his. “You’re safe.” “Home,” he murmurs as the cool metal at his abdomen chills your flushed skin. He thrusts a final, gentle time, and you cross your ankles at his lower back, sealing him close. Loki smiles, “That’s all I ever wanted.”

❤️Tags in comments! x Next story will be Wednesday 18 Sept as I'm on holiday next week🌄