#I call this man Odal...

[sembaze]

[crow-caller]

love that you never mention shadowhunters even tho it's like thee quintessential bad angel y/a... any thoughts about it you wanna share? 👀

I have a blood oath against cassandra clare basically

I've never heard it called the quintessential bad angel ya before though. bad ya though? yes. I have tried to read it, more than once, over the years and just hated the experience! as it stands now the series is so long I'm not keen on having to read any/all of it for a video. but I know I also ought to, so I can feel finally justified in my animosity towards it

Things about shadowhunters mortal instruments cassandra clare

Big Name Fan in the harry potter fandom for a very long time, and notoriously unpleasant. huge bully. Tried to get a girl kicked out of university over fandom drama. This is all old drama but she just buried it when she got successful rather than ever own up to it

Frequently plagiarised for her fics. suspicions have long been if her books feature any stolen ideas, but she 100% did plagiarise for her fics a number of times

my main fan community for a very very long time has been Mortal Engines by Philip Reeve and this is where the true personal beef lies. Mortal Engines is similar in name to Mortal Instruments (oh the mix ups). Mortal Engines book 3 is named Infernal Devices (just like her prequel series huh). The villain of the first Mortal Engines book is a man named Valentine who winds up being the secret father of the red-haired protagonist. The villain in the first Mortal Instruments book is a man named Valentine who winds up being the secret father of the red-haired protagonist

I don't like how deeply into incest she is. I'm not crazy for the fact 'Mortal Instruments' was first the name of her ron/ginny fanfic. I find it weird she made her whole series about faux maybe-maybe-not sibling incest because she's finds it hot.

The books, famously, just kinda suck

While I'm here, the red scrolls of magic cover is just really bad and it annoys me every time I saw it. I haven't seen it in a while and I looked it up and I still hate it.

it was one of those fandoms you saw a lot which was pretty exclusively made of people into the one gay ship. I also remember a lot of fighting over shipping an aroace character and ignoring his identity. this wasn't very endearing to observe

the shadowhunter logo looks a lot like the odal rune, which is used by white supremacists. this is a coincidence, but once as a teen at my job I met a grown man with a tattoo I thought was the shadowhunter logo and was like 'weird. bad taste.' and then many years later was like 'wait a fucking second'. obviously if you know them, it's different. but I don't like making that kinda mistake

I'm petty and this is a grudge I've just kept going for well over a decade now. that's all

[swampstew]

Killer, I-30 ~ Cum Eating

Summary: Hiking through the ancient lands of old and you get to experience a rite of passage - staying overnight in a real life wilderness hut - that will keep you safe from deadly terrors and beasts during the night. Does it work?

Warnings: Spicy, modern monster au, Killer as Biasd Bheulach with female reader, risky sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), failed pull out method and cum eating, dead dove do not eat for ending cause murder is implied. Word Count: 863

Biasd Bheulach is a monster or spirit that supposedly haunts Odal Pass on the Isle of Skye in Scotland. It is said to be a nocturnal shapeshifter, sometimes a man, sometimes a beast. It’s believed to be the source of the frightful shrieks and outcries heard in the night. If you’ve ever asked what’s hiding in the dark, don’t be surprised to hear it’s the Beast of Odal Pass. There are accounts of travelers claiming to have been attacked by the beast as they traveled through the night. One alleged victim was found dead on the roadside with gory wounds. There have been few actual accounts of what the creature looks like so it is generally advised not to travel at night.

The handsome stranger had flirted with you all night and you had fallen for his charm. His big, muscled body was a delight to look at, his long and gorgeous mane of hair was enchanting, and every time you caught a peek of his crystal blue eyes, you could feel yourself swoon. Like a fairy tale prince handsome.

You and your friend group had been hiking through the land when it began to grow dark. And once the deep hue cleared the sky you’re spines prickled with fear when you heard wild shrieking that nearly sounded like laughter. Crazed laughter.

Finding a local wilderness hut, called a Bothy, your group tread quickly to the basic shelter in the hopes to avoid whatever that foul sound was. When you crossed the threshold none of you expected to find it already occupied by the handsome stranger. He introduced himself and explained he sought shelter when he heard the howling shrieks. He lived in the next town over and was travelling by foot but decided that for safety he would spend the night.

His name was hard to pronounce and didn’t have an easily international equivalent, so he settled for Killer when your friend’s boyfriend called him drop dead gorgeous. Killer was kind, gentle and well-articulated. It was easy to get along with him and feel comfortable around him quickly. Between the four of you, you had food and water for about a day and a half.

Killer informed everyone that there was a fresh water stream nearby and offered to go with her boyfriend, but your friend insisted she would go with as there was no bathroom in the shelter, just a spade to dig in the dirt.

As soon as you were left alone with him, he pounced. You eagerly accepted his brazen advances and soon you were both rushing towards the shoddy second story loft space for privacy. Despite the…rugged…quality of the shelter, it served is purpose.

You were writhing in pleasure as Killer removed his thick, calloused fingers out of your weeping cunt. You whimpered at him with pleading eyes and gave him a satisfied hum when he unbuckled his pants. He fucked you raw and you loved every second of it. Dripping in sweat and huffing the humid air with each breath you shared as he pistoned into you and harshly bit where your shoulder met your neck. With a cry, your pussy throbbed and clamped on his cock making him grunt loudly, panting through grit teeth as his hips stuttered.

“Sh-shit!” you heard him moan as he pulled out, jerking himself over your body and covering you with white. You closed your eyes as you felt the warmth splatter against your skin, your hips shifted and you realized you could feel warmth dripping down between your thighs.

“Did you—?” you asked quietly.

“Eh I might have, sorry don’t think I pulled out fast enough. Don’t worry I’ll clean you up, just sit back and get comfortable, this won’t take long.”

Confused, you laid on your back as he lifted your thighs over his shoulder. He buried his tongue into your pussy and you let out a squeal. You felt the muscle work your core, licking your walls clean, licking your ass cheeks and inner thighs clean as well. You were in a daze as he left your core, trailing his tongue up your torso as he thrusted his fingers into your pussy once more. Pumping you as he licked clean the mess he made on you.

When he cleaned the last drop, his fingers worked overtime causing your final orgasm to strike you like lightning. He swallowed your screams as your pussy crushed his fingers, pumping you through the intense rocking that wallowed in your body as you rode the train of ecstasy. You don’t remember anything else from the night, except one final moment as sleep dragged you to its depths, the way he looked at you with almost guilt as he kissed your forehead.

Quietly murmuring, “If only in a different life.”

You remembered wanting to ask him what he meant when you woke up. However, you awoke to a nightmare. Walking groggily down the steps, your movement faltered when you realized the Bothy had been destroyed from the inside out. No trace of your friend, her boyfriend, or Killer.

All that was left was splatters and puddles of blood strewn about the ruined interior.

5 tiles to go, 59 calls made so far.

[deanwasalwaysbi]

The Winchesters Pilot - What do we know about the box? Was that Samuel Campbell at the beginning?

The paper Mary found describes a magical box and says:

Follow the path of 1 toward Heaven. Second spot is four less seven Find the forth behind Hells door, Six suns set on the Western floor I will always lead you here, Ending the darkness that we all fear

My first thought was THE EMPTY - and I Screamed. but once I calmed down I started thinking dimensions and the Acreda. there are also strong Amara vibes I am choosing to ignore.

We have seen a demon get sucked inside, into this tiny box. So either it's a trap or it's a door. If it's a door I would expect it goes to another dimension.

Either way - what happens if a person we care about at some point gets sucked into the box too? 🤔 hrmm (don't hurt Lata!)

The MoL locked it up for a reason - which they wouldn't do if this awesome piece of tech was a no downsides monster trap. So maybe it can suck people in or the Acreda can use this to cross over. Per @greatcometcas Akreda is ancient Greek for Locusts and doesn't that just have Vibes.

The paper also had these symbols on it, one of which Samuel someone with a bag with the initials S.C. wrote in blood to open the Manhole of Letters at the beginning of the episode. (A bit of digital manipulation and highlighting) I was convinced the symbols would combine together to create the Men of Letters symbol. No such luck yet. Unless we separate them into their base ancient ruins. ...

Started with the assumption that this person was Samuel - possible Tom Welling stand-in notwithstanding - that leads me to some questions.

Apparently the symbol he drew into the dish is called an Odal Rune or an Othala. (thank you @swordofsun!) Unfortunately I know it as a symbol co-opted by nazis, but it's is one of the oldest and most widely used runes in ancient Norse, Germanic, and Anglo-Saxon cultures. It was used for the “o” sound and is symbolic of lineage and genetic inheritance.

So - so I had been assuming this Indiana jones looking man was Samuel Campbell, but is he? I still think that is most likely but it feels like this symbol should have been drawn in MoL legacy blood to open the door. We've seen that before. I'm fine with that being unnecessary, but it would be fun if that meant 1) Samuel had ties to MoL 2) The Campbells have some history with the Acreda or 3) That isn't Samuel.

This is about when @wigglebox asked me if that man looked like Jensen and, now that you mention it.... I don't see bow legs, but it does kind of look like the back of his head? Is this Jensen/Dean? Is this Henry/Gil? Is this just Samuel/Tom? IDK. Someone tell me who this looks like to you, where my hand freaks at?

I want it to be Dean, he's a legacy and it would be a fun twist, but I think Dean would be better able to handle himself and he's wearing a wedding ring so for that to be Dean he'd have to be married to Cas at this point - Which obv means I am fully on board 😂💙💚. Nah, I think it was likely Samuel.

Symbols on the paper (bear with me there are a LOT of interpretations online and I do not know what I'm doing):

MoL Symbol - Unicursal Hexagram associated with symbolic magical, and spiritual connections. "Our crest. The Aquarian Star, representing great magic and power. They say it stood at the gates of Atlantis itself." Combination of 2 Kauną (see below) and an ᚷ? (top right)

Apparently this is a combination rune used for protection - or protection of family. I feel like this looks like it's a combination of the two symbols Inguz - fertility or love and Isa/Isaz - ice or death. ᛝ + ᛁ (Top left)

Raido ? - Journey - combined with the symbol for message / god / odin. AR . Also seeing people referring to this as Energy - getting real "the heroes journey" vibes, Robbie. ᚮ + ᚱ

upside down Othada - apparently the main meaning of a reversed othada is “loss of home”? ᛟ

This one I could not find - the only combination I was able to come up with was a double ᛜ a ᛜᛜ which is an inguz from a different culture. Meaning seed, or energy. Creation. - Maybe the duplicate means destruction / the darkness? Like a reverse? It could just as easily be 2 Othadas doubled back on themselves which would be fun thematically.

Othada / Odal- Heritage/Legacy/genetic inheritance or separation or possession ᛟ

combination of Kauną/Kenaz & Igus ᚲ + ᛜ - getting so many interpretations off of these - Kenaz - love/relationship/fire, Igus seed/energy/creation.

If I didn't know better - and I think I do - I'd think this was about Amara - the elusions to god (reverse) and the darkness. But given what we already know I expect this to be about the Acreda. Mostly I think this is a warning about an interdimensional door. I was clowning for a second when I found an interpretation relating to a journey in time, but I don't think it holds up.

Thank you to @escapingpurgatorypodcast @endofthebookpod & dearly to @deanncastiel for the image source!

I sincerely hope someone who knows better can make some sense of this

[rexydusk420]

short story of how Rylee/Kaida and Kabu met/reunited with Steven Stone, Wallace, and Norman

(T.w: Blood, mention of dead body/murder, flashback, gun and knife)

(Rylee’s POV)

I was on my pokemon journey, my Moltres, Zapdos, Thwackey, and Eldegoss in a beautiful region called Hoenn. My teammates loved being somewhere new, so did I! It's more interesting when you're somewhere new with your partner pokemon. I made my way to the town of Petalburg and saw a gym, thankfully it's a gym for later in my journey, though I saw two men, hand in hand, Talking to the gym leader. “Norman it’s so cool to hear your son beat you in the gym challenge! He's a step closer to becoming league champion, how elegant!” a voice said, my small articuno tail flicked on the floor. “Yeah! Wallace is correct, your son is strong, I saw him in Fortree before me and Wallace came here, so he’s getting strong, I'm proud of Brendan” another said, I let eldegoss out of his pokeball, he cooed when he saw me. “Shh! I heard an unfamiliar pokemon cry, we may  hear it again.” The man, Wallace, said, moving his teal cape. “Shh, eldegoss! You got someone on us!” I whispered, the three men looking at me. “Woah!” One said, their hands going in the air. “I-i came here from Galar, this eldegoss is the pokemon you must have heard…” I muttered, looking at my feet. “Wait, Rylee right? I know your father! Raihan! He's an elegant trainer in your region!” The green haired male said, patting my head. “He told me all about you, your identity, what you look like, all that!” he added, a smile on his face. “Allow me to introduce everyone here, I'm Wallace, the man with bright blue hair is my fiance Steven Stone, and the one we’re talking to is Norman.” Wallace said, hugging me. “Your dad told us all about how you’re a hybrid, your psychic powers, and about your past” Steven added to Wallace's sentence, kneeling down to Wallace and i’s level, “You have such an adorable pokemon, may we learn about him?” Wallace asked, petting Eldegoss’s head. “He’s an Eldegoss, given to me with my ʻAnakala, which is uncle in my native language Hawaiian. Uncle Milo found him in an egg as a Gossifluer, which i can show you what he looked like as a baby” I replied, showing Wallace, Steven, and Norman a picture of eldegoss as a baby Gossifleur with me, ʻAnakala Milo, and makua. “Aww, that's so adorable Rylee!” Wallace exclaimed, cooing at eldegoss. “You made him really strong, does he have a nickname?” He added. “No, I usually nickname him Mimi, after ʻAnakala milo…��I stated, fixing my bow on my neck. “Mimi hm? That's an adorable name you nickname it Rylee, we have a pokemon, Vileplume, who is a really cute pokemon that me and Steven keep as a home pokemon, but i brought it with me today.” Wallace said, letting the pokemon out. “Plume!” It cooed at eldegoss. “Elde!” He cooed back, now befriending the Vileplume. “Eldegoss really loves other grass pokemon, sadly i've been defeated by kupuna kāne, which means grandpa, Kabu, he's the one who recommended Hoenn as he’s lived here before, Makua, father, really thought about it until grandpa said he’d accompany me until I wanted to go back to Galar, he’s in the Pokemart in Odale right now…”I rambled on. “Kabu! I’ve missed him, he was an amazing person, i'm surprised he’s your grandfather, he’s never enjoyed being around children, but he seems to adore you.” Norman said, ruffling my deep blue and white streaked hair. “Makua kinda thinks kaby hates him but thats not true, grandpa is happy about papa taking care of me!” I giggled, hugging Wallace. “You are just the cutest thing to exist” He said, rubbing my back. “Rylee! This is where you were!” Grandpa said, running over to us. “Kabu!” Norman exclaimed, hugging grandpa. “Ey norman! Been a long while hm?” Grandpa responded, I looked at him then back at Wallace. “Grandpa? Will i ever be as strong as Wallace and Steven?” I asked bluntly. “Rylee, of course you will! You’ve just got to believe you can be like them” Grandpa said, hugging me. I sniffled, remembering what Colress said once.

(Flashback)

“You’re useless! Just like your mother!” Papa said, throwing mama’s wounded, and probably dead, body to the floor. I was hiding from him as he had both a gun and a knife in his hands. “Found you~” He said in a creepy voice, stabbing my wing. I had enough, I packed up my pokedolls, and my necklace with both the red and blue orb, and ran as far as i could.

(end of flashback)

I was crying hard into Wallace's chest, grandpa and him trying to comfort me. "Wallace i forgot one thing, sometimes they'll have a flashback and break down crying. This happened when I met them and they talked about their past thoroughly, they tend to cry to the person who's holding them, in this case being you..." Kabu said, wallace nodded his head, snuggling me closer to him. "Poor kid, wait, why did you call them, a they?" Wallace asked. "Each day, Raihan, Piers, and I ask them for pronouns, cause they're Genderfluid, and today they said its a non binary day, thats why" Kabu replied. "Are you ok now Rylee?" Wallace asked, lifting my chin. "Mhm..." I nodded my head

I know now...i can trust Wallace, Steven Stone, and Norman

(We apologize if it's a bit long! we got wrapped into this story... -n-)

stay safe, and happy friday!

~Raihan, Rylee, Wallace, Ryuko, & Alva

[lailoken]

I'm sorry if this has been asked before but could you possibly name some common symbols/signs of the witch father and deities related ? animals, plants, things that could represent him ? ive been having dreams about the devil, with black wolves and odal runes and I'm trying to figure it out. thank you in advance! :^)

When you say Witch Father, I assume you mean that where the Man in Black is concerned? Just because there are multiple entities that one could call “Witch Father,” and not all of them are necessarily that intimately related to one another. Though, I believe many share the title of Man in Black.

Where the syncretic, archetypal Witch Father of Traditional Witchcraft is concerned (Horned Lord, Faerie King, and Master of the Wild Hunt,) there is certainly abundant overlap.

Several examples of omens and signs that are traditionally associated with the Witch Father, as Dark Wayfarer, include:

Serpents,

Corvids,

Hounds,

All manner of horned beast (Stag, Ram, Bull, etc,)

Pretty much any black animal,

Bones,

Doorways,

Crossroads,

Brambles.

& Dreams of death and/or physical transmutation.

[otterskin]

Runes and Symbols in the Loki Series - The Horned God Rears his Bestial Head

This is a sequel to this post here, which explored various runes appearing in the Loki trailer. There are two Norse runes, but also a symbol I didn't expect to see - but which makes all kind of sense.

First off, Kaunaz, which we've discussed numerous times before. But let's recap for those who didn't click the link above. Kaunaz takes the place of the 'K' in Loki, as it is that letter's ancestor. It means 'Torch', symbolizing 'The search for Knowledge/Creativity, and how the use of it can bring prosperity or destruction'. It is also known as the 'Loki Rune', so of course it'd be here!

Next up, Othala/Odal, which is of course an 'O'. It is sometimes mistakenly called the Odin rune, but it is not, despite being the first in his name - I'll cover the real one later. It means heritage, legacy, ancestry, royalty. How interesting. Does this mean we'll explore what that means to Loki? Will we see his heritage addressed, as well as his legacy? It is also related to the Omega symbol - Ω - from the Greek Alphabet, meaning 'Last', but that's stretching a bit.

Now, on to the good stuff! This O with a crescent-moon shaped horn is the symbol of The Horned God.

This is a deity for Wicca and some other neopagans. He is something of a mixture of horned deities from other religions, including Pan, Cernunnos, Baphomet, Janicot, Osirus and Satan, who’s also based on pagan gods. Part of the appeal of the Horned God is that it celebrates gods and iconography that Christianity has demonized. Another god that’s experienced this? Our dear Loki, and that’s been covered here if you want the low-down on that and an analysis of the Stained Glass Window - short version, there’s a mix of Christian and Norse Mythology in its iconography, as well a rundown on what it means for Loki and his mythology that Snorri Sturluson made him the devil in his Christiannized take on the myths that then became the most well-known version of the stories.

So, once again I posit that this show will explore the concept of Loki as the ‘Devil’ - that his designation as an evil entity has been misrepresented or foisted upon him by others, including himself (“I am a Villain” as a line from Loki seems to set this up), when in actuality he is something more akin to an important natural force, unfairly demonized.

More on the Horned God - he represents nature, wilderness, the hunt, and the cycle of life and death. He is usually depicted as theriocephalic - which means having a beast’s head. In his case, usually a stag or ram. This symbolizes the union of the divine with the animal, and blurs the line between man and animal for the same purpose. He is considered a god of dualities: light and darkness, night and day, summer and winter, good and evil, love and hate, death and rebirth, sun and moon - hence the symbol. The two horns symbolize this duality. Funnily enough, Tom Hiddleston recently mentioned that the meaning of Loki’s horns would be explored in the show.  It also puts this symbol in direct conflict with Dagaz, a rune that's literally imprinted all over the TVA. Dagaz ᛞ symbolizes Non-Duality, a thing that is itself only, Everlasting. And it looks like an Hourglass, how convenient.

To touch again on the death and rebirth thing - some Wiccans see him as dying on a specific date (there are various, but a popular one is Samhain) and then reborn again on the Winter Solstice. He is a god who literally dies and resurrects himself, much like the changing of seasons, though interestingly he returns for Winter, not Spring.

He is seen as mediator between the unknowable, vast supreme deity of the universe (Dryghtyn) and regular humans. He is also the consoler of the bereaved, as he is also the bridge between life and death and can give comfort to those separated by it.

He is the God of Witches and Sorcerers, and sometimes called by the name ’The Sorcerer’. Hey, y’all wanted some more magic, right?

This is an exciting new bit of DNA. Previously we mostly covered just Nordic runes from the Furthark Alphabet, but this gives us a door into Wicca and Neo-Paganism, which of course also celebrates Loki among numerous other deities. Some even engage in an annual ‘Trial of Loki’ where someone plays the part of Loki and attempts to defend himself from the charge of orchestrating the death of Baldur. I’ve always wanted to see that…

Things to keep your eyes peeled for: The Horned God has a female opposite/counterpart known as the Triple Goddesses, represented by this complementary symbol:

More on them if it does show up.

Gosh, this is exciting. I’ve got to brush up on my knowledge of Pagan and Wicca beliefs, it’s been awhile. I did once participate in a Wicca festival thanks to a chance encounter, so I’ve long had an interest in it. I have one friend who’s a convert to Wicca. Should start asking her some questions.

I gave her a bag of Norse Runes for divination as a Christmas Gift this year. I’m always on-brand.

Next - this one replacing the 'L'

...in part 2, because I'm not allowed anymore images and there's still a few more to go. However, I might need some help on this one, guys, I'm not entirely sure what this upside down seven thing is, but do have some cool theories (it involves that one hit wonder, Don't Fear the Reaper, so stay tuned.) Comment if you know it!

Sequel Post Now HERE

[patricialupien]

American Gods, Advertising, and Tarot

After last night's season 3 finale of American Gods, I wanted to talk about design and symbols associated with the advertising. Here's the ad:

Seems pretty straight forward at this point, right? Headshots, halos, and various hand poses. BTW, look at those hands a little closer. Those are not Bilquis' hands, and not one of them are in actual prayer. Wednesday is scheming and doing his best Mr. Burns “Excellent”, Salim’s hands are over his broken heart, Laura gives a big ol’ Fuck you to the viewer.

And at first glance, you see a pretty balanced layout. But something about it kept nagging at me, so I did some research. First thing I did was look at some Futhark runes. You know. Norse. Nothing quite matched it but there is this rune which is the closest to it. ᛟ

ᛟ is the Odal rune. It ties to inheritance, especially passing goods from Father to Son. And it is definitely associated to Odin. But it's not quite the ᛟ rune. Shadow would be in the empty spot at the bottom. Now this could mean he's not part of the rune, making his own fate, but that's TBD.

So I thought some more and the layout reminded me of something else. Rachel Pollard is an expert in tarot, a renowned author and comic book writer. She’s also a friend of @neil-gaiman , so if he needed tarot info, she’s the one he’d go to.  My first tarot deck had a spread called the Hagall Spread, based off of this rune ᚼ

Hagall: “hail” or “limitation” Hagall is a rune of delay and limitations, Hagall encourages caution when taking risks. Success may be reached through hard work and effort, but usually it suggest waiting to start new things. It may signify a change in your life’s direction or that your fate is in another person’s hands. Oh yeah. that works.

So here’s the Hagall Spread: 

Let's plug our cast into their reading positions. Bilquis is center, current conditions. She is discovering who she really is. 

Wednesday is in Background position. Duh, he set all of this in motion.

Laura is in Beliefs. We've seen her going from believing in nothing, to believing in Shadow to believing in herself.

Shadow is the likely Result of this journey, whether he's man or god of somewhere in between.

Salim is the spiritual history. He started as very devout, got his heart broken, and then found himself, which renewed his faith.

Technical Boy/Prometheus is the spiritual task at hand. How do you evolve without losing yourself? 

And finally, we come to Cordelia. Metamorphosis. This one is tricky, because we see her as shadow was two seasons ago. New to all this god stuff, and how did she get mixed up in all of this anyhow? Cordelia means heart, and in King Lear she was the one daughter that truly loved a cranky, cantankerous scheming old man for who he was, no more, no less. No flowery declarations of love. Maybe Shadow has to go back to the beginning, or love Odin for being a dick, or maybe she has a past that she's not aware of as well. Remember, nothing with Wednesday is chance. He plays the long game.

[kleenexwoman]

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

"It's not so bad if you're dedicated," Napoleon said. "I like the idea of security. I've wanted to do something like this ever since I was twelve, and I realized, look...the world is really fucked up, you know? You can get attacked for no reason. Things just fall apart and go crazy for no reason. We need people to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Okay," Illya said, "and the way to do that isn't to charge into places you think might be dangerous with a bunch of guns and body armor."

"It's not just charging in and shooting up shit," Napoleon said. "They provide restructuring services, too. They fix the economy, find someone to be in charge, institute democracy...all that good stuff."

"Sometimes you need to go in and kick ass before you can fuck around with democracy." Angel said from the kitchen. "Can you think of a better way to make sure people aren't just bombing the shit out of each other? It's all about pacifying."

from "bananas and guns and bananas" https://archiveofourown.org/works/296945/chapters/475602

I started writing this in 2011. Ten years after 9/11. The Arab Spring and Occupy Wall Street were on everyone's mind. I'd gotten into Man from UNCLE, a premier example of 60's spy-fi, during my college years when I was starting to learn about the American history I didn't get in high school--I was fangirling over secret agents in fiction while reading about how the CIA sent troops into Central and South America to destabilize economies and ultimately buy up cheap land from the puppet dictators they installed. The Secret Service fuckin investigated my little brother for signing a dumb Internet petition! I was working at OnStar, sending weak-ass apology emails to people who were angry at the company about not pulling their ads from the future Worst President To Date's reality show, where he was sowing the seeds of fascism. Then I started getting emails from people who were upset because OnStar was going to track their every move and tell the cops if they'd broken a traffic law (that was not what was happening, actually). Anyway, here you have skater prep Napoleon trying to figure out if he should join the equivalent of Blackwater or not (hint: don't join a mercenary army to invade the Middle East), which I am equating with THRUSH because I am not trying to be subtle.

Billboards popped up and fell away as Bucky sped south. Bulova watches, the new Ford Hydra seating eight, Who Murdered Me? Call If You Know, ginger ale, potato chips, Wrongful Death? Make Them Pay, menthol cigarettes, Quit Smoking Now, N’Jadaka Stevens for Mayor, smooth Canadian whiskey, Did the Crime? Don’t Do Time, God Loves You. The billboards gave way to a twinkling fairyland with arching towers that belched smoke and flames and burned the inside of Bucky’s nostrils, and then billboards again for Marathon oil, the new Ford Othala, Hill’s Clean-Burning Propane, petroleum jelly, plastic bags and plastic toys and water in plastic bottles, more and more and more billboards until everything was hidden behind concrete and advertisements.

from "Coffee in Paradise" https://archiveofourown.org/works/33429637?view_full_work=true

Bulova watches: Detroit has Shinola watches, but the Bulova watch was the first ever commercial, and I can only imagine what kind of weird anxiety might have plagued me if I was innocently watching TV and without warning or explanation a test card watch appeared on my screen and ticked for a full minute. The new Ford Hydra seating eight and the Ford Othala: Henry Ford was a huge anti-Semite and a megalomaniac and literally killed people for striking and fucked up not just the American worker but also the American school system and any hope Detroit ever had for a decent public transportation system and ooh I hate him I hate him I hate him. Anyway, Othala or Odal is the rune equivalent for O, which means "inheritance," and which happens to be the first letter of Odin's name. Neo-Nazis like this because it's easy and they are stupid, and also because of the whole heritage/Odinist thing. Odin's ACTUAL rune is Ansuz aka Os, which means "god" but also means "voice or mouth" and is considered by many to be a rune of divine inspiration. Who Murdered Me? Call If You Know, Wrongful Death? Make Them Pay, Did the Crime? Don’t Do Time, God Loves You: These are all billboards I've seen around Detroit. Tiplines for murders, especially with the faces of the victims, absolutely designed to produce a huge guilt reaction. Plenty of wrongful death lawyers, usually medical malpractice or injury lawyers. Did you know that the Open and Obvious Doctrine, as passed by the Michigan Supreme Court, rules that it's basically your fault if you get hurt by something you can see is wrong? Even if you're fucking blind and literally can't see it? Look up Sidorowicz v. Chicken Shack. Anyway, so here we have finding the killer, getting recompense, the question of prison, and ultimate forgiveness. THEMES. ginger ale, potato chips, menthol cigarettes, Quit Smoking Now, smooth Canadian whiskey: The ginger ale is obviously Vernor's and the potato chips are Better Made--if you like the burnt chips, you should check out their Rainbow Chips because they are ALL THE BURNT CHIPS. They're my favorite. Consider this a recommendation. The smooth Canadian whiskey is a sneaky reference to my great-grandfather, who liked whiskey so much it was his Purple Gang nickname. They got it from Canada. Also, I realized recently that literally the only thing I miss about smoking cigarettes (besides that they're cheaper than weed) is when I got the ones with the little ball of mint oil inside the filters and I got to pop them. I make my friends who smoke let me do it so that I don't start smoking again. N'Jadaka Stevens for Mayor: Killmonger there, running for mayor. The billboards gave way to a twinkling fairyland with arching towers that belched smoke and flames and burned the inside of Bucky’s nostrils: When you cross the Detroit River via I-75 there's actual Detroit on on side and on the other there's a Fucking Gigantic oil refinery. @teadrinkingwolfgirl wrote a poem comparing an oil refinery in Texas to a fairyland and that really stuck with me, it does look eerily like a fairy city especially in the dark when it's all twinkling lights and towers. Marathon oil, the new Ford Othala, Hill’s Clean-Burning Propane, petroleum jelly, plastic bags and plastic toys and water in plastic bottles: all petroleum products being advertised around the refinery! You can get really cheap gas at the Marathon attached to the refinery. I assume it's also freshest and tastiest there. To the cars, I mean. Hill's Clean-Burning Propane is a nod to Hank Hill.

ok I'm p. tired I'll do the rest tomorrow

[whiterosebrian]

Second Open Letter to MovieBob

MovieBob,

Over four years ago I wrote an open letter to you in hopes of reaching you. I don’t know if it ever did. I don’t know if this one will either. I still felt a need to try to reach you. You are an online personality with a substantial following. You influence a decent-sized number of people. Back then, I was Catholic. About two years later, I felt a need to abandon Catholicism after so many years of struggling with it as convert—it was a difficult decision. The Catholic Right made me question what “Authentic Catholicism” (in the words of so many self-styled Cristeros) looks like in the real world, as did uncensored history. It’s likely no accident that I stepped away from Catholicism during the Trump administration, which many Catholic hierarchs and apologists promoted, whether subtly or overtly, all the way to the brutal and ugly end. I’ll start talking about my new spiritual path soon enough.

Indeed, I share your anger towards the whole Christian Right which has long been the main driver in mainstreaming faith-based nationalist authoritarianism in the USA and, increasingly, elsewhere. As I’ve browsed your social-media postings, I’ve seen more justified lamentations over the damage that the Christian Right has caused. However, I also see bitterness towards ordinary people who shouldn’t all be dismissed as mindless fascist robots.

It’s true that wide support for Christian fascism needs to be opposed. At the same time, people are people. People are complicated. It’s true that, in many cases, labels are necessary descriptors. The problem is when people are reduced to simple labels. It’s true that plenty of people are hardened ideologues. I even accept that such people need to be somehow restrained for the good of the whole populace. It’s not always easy, though, to tell who is whom. People tend to do what they think is right or justifiable—that is, to use a slightly hackneyed idiom, Human Nature 101. People’s fears can be misdirected and, yes, their socially inherited prejudices can be inflamed. People can be horribly misled. When we oppose even the most hardened ideologues, though, we need to keep their humanity in mind.

There are no easy answers to the mainstreaming of neo-fascism among our neighbors. Nonetheless, our neighbors remain our neighbors. When you paint with broad good-or-bad, thinkers-or-believers, obsolete-or-advanced brushes, you risk contributing to polarization. Your approach is dangerously close to what the Catholic Right does—it brands everyone who diverges from their ideology as insane, selfish, God-hating, baby-killing, barely-human demons. One reason for writing this letter is to warn you again about becoming a mirror image of what you rightly oppose.

I myself sometimes feel my own resentment flare up and I need to resist the temptation. I’ve thought about setting up a new account on Twitter for the express purpose of trolling Catholic fundamentalists—but how effective would that be, given how they smugly proclaim themselves to be truth-telling martyrs? More importantly, how would that actually benefit vulnerable people?

Now it’s time to talk about my new spiritual path, as I telegraphed before. I started learning of alternate spiritualities after I left Catholicism, though I knew that I would essentially commit to one of them. For multiple reasons far outside this letter’s scope, I committed to Germanic neopaganism. Yes, the neopagan revival has issues from its very beginning.

Shortly before I started typing this letter, people on the internet voiced suspicions over a stage within a major right-wing conference, one seemingly designed in the shape of a specific variant—one associated with Himmler’s henchmen—of the Odal rune. You also might recall one thug within the attempted coup on Capitol Hill wearing Germanic pagan symbols as tattoos (along with a mock-Lakota headdress). Many of today’s neo-pagans are beginning to seriously grapple with those issues, primarily by forcefully distancing themselves from Folkism (which is basically a white-nationalist caricature of pre-Christian spirituality) and expressing solidarity with marginalized people. Many of today’s neo-pagans also place an emphasis on researching the histories associated with their faith and practices, searching for the highest quality scholarship and summaries thereof possible. One thing that the most thoughtful neo-pagans stress is animism.

You seem to do much research into all sorts of things, as you demonstrate in tweets and videos, so giving a definition of animism might simply waste your time. I still want to discuss it in some depth, as it leads into what I believe is my main justification for writing a second open letter to you. Animism isn’t just a belief in ghosts and goblins everywhere. It’s also a relationship with all things seen and unseen, including the natural world. You rightly speak of safeguarding the environment to keep it inhabitable for future generations, but therein lies the rub—it shouldn’t just be about what you have called the “Superior Future”.

Reactionary ideology is indeed foolish at best and dangerous at worst. I’ve become convinced, though, that there is a fundamental truth that fascists grotesquely distort. I’ve become convinced that the modern world is broken. There is a very serious disconnect with ancestors and with nature. Ancestors aren’t always right, but they have good ideas. Nature isn’t always directly beneficial humans, but it has many precious treasures.

I follow a number of Native American activists and spiritualists on Instagram. You should know that in colonizing various lands Christian Europeans decimated indigenous people and nearly annihilated their ancestral cultures. Many indigenous people are reclaiming their heritages. A major part of that is bonding with their lands and befriending the spirits whom they once freely befriended. I’ve seen you talk about “thunder-cowering sub-mentals” and “superstitious” people inventing gods and spirits to overcome their fears of death or feebly explain their world. I offer this rhetorical question: Do you dare to say such things to indigenous peoples trying to revive their cultures?

I’ve seen you talk about pop-culture heroes as some kind of substitute for gods in culture. You are entitled to your skepticism towards all things mystical, but I feel a need to point out something. Works of fiction—especially commercial entertainments promoted by corporations such as the increasingly notorious Disney—are very different from myths. Works of fiction may certainly have trappings of mythology which help them resonate with audiences. They may even tap directly into classical archetypes that have long influenced humanity. Mythology, however, is often linked to serious historical spiritual paths, even when retold and written by Christian antiquarians in Iceland or Ireland. Mythology also reaches even more deeply into the human spirit, arguably carrying mystical truths deep within. I won’t pretend to be a scholar, much less expert, on mythology—I simply want to point out the differences between fiction and mythology. They don’t serve the same functions. I do aspire to write works of serious fiction that explore philosophy, humanity, and spirituality, but even those are distinct from mythology that has been passed down over centuries in whatever forms.

A statistic spreading on the internet tells us that, if I recall correctly, indigenous peoples make up a very small percentage of the world’s population but safeguard the vast majority of the world’s biodiversity. What informs their protection of their lands? The cultures that they work to preserve are tied to their lands—not in the horrible “blood and soil” sense, but in the sense of being family with the animals, waters, plants, stones, and hills that surround them. Many of them explicitly see spiritual beings within the earth, ones who also want to dwell with us. In short, they point us to an entire web of life. They tell us that their ancestral wisdom is what will save the lands that they want to share peacefully with settlers and, ultimately, the whole world. I’m now convinced that they are right.

Such relationship with nature and spirit is also present in pre-Christian spiritualities and their revivals. At some point, an ideology of colonization and separation arose within the Christianized Europe. I leave discussions of its exact origins to philosophers, historians, and other scholars who are far more knowledgeable than I. I’ll still talk about the ideology of the conquest of nature, which led to environmental problems that we have now. Though you speak of necessary advances in technology to resolve climate change, those need to be approached thoughtfully so that people don’t become exploited for the privileged few. Furthermore, a focus on the “Superior Future” and fixation on genetic engineering, super-intelligent robotics, and ever-expanding mega-cities misses the point of fully human flourishing. Even as a pagan, I feel comfortable repeating my earlier paraphrasing of a line within the Gospels: Civilization was made for man, not man for civilization. The myopic focus on high-tech civilization has contributed to so many problems for people’s lives. A number of people are now coming to understand that there’s a limit to how much prosperity actually benefits people’s lives.

Many indigenous writers and activists are pointing to alternate ways of living, however vaguely or tentatively in terms of how exactly we would bring them into today’s world. They don’t talk about erasing electricity or medical science by any means! Rather, they ask us to reconsider where we focus our building up of human lifestyles and human society. Marching mindlessly into the “Superior Future” isn’t the way to bring happiness and peace to humanity. I’m convinced that the proper way to do so is learning from ancestors how to rebuild better bonds with each other, our nonhuman friends, and our souls—and then applying the best parts of timeless wisdom to our lives and our social projects.

Whenever I type articles such as this for my social media pages, I often ask for pardon if I’ve rambled. I trust that I genuinely try to genuinely say as much as possible. That is the reason for this letter being the way that it is. Again, you are entitled to your skepticism towards all things mystical, but I maintain that you’re not entitled to completely dismiss them as idiotic primitivism. I actually started feeling a need to sit down and type this letter while practicing mediation at my altar. Did the goddess Freya influence me to try again to reach you, or did a simple thought of mine simply become stronger? I can’t quite answer that—especially at this point, when I’m beginning to learn to connect with the other side, that the old gods speak to me so clearly.

The ultimate point is that I ask you to not only tread carefully when publicly opposing Christian fascism but also reconsider your “Superior Future”, evidently influenced by science fiction—which in turn is possibly influenced by the ideology of the conquest of nature. I can’t presume to know how convincing you will find my letter, but I still wanted make another attempt to speak to you—and to the many people whom you influence as an online personality. I simply want to be a part of building a genuinely better future for human beings and the entire web of life.

With the utmost sincerity,

Brian Solomon Whiterose

[trolldomblog]

The Niding Pole/Nidstang

In the Viking age the most spectacular way of cursing an enemy was by the Niding Pole (the Nithstong or Scorn-Post). They were poles about nine feet (2.75 meters) long upon which insults and curses were carved in runes. Ceremonies were performed to activate the destructive magic of the pole. A horse's skull was fixed to the top of the pole, and it was stuck into the ground with the skull facing towards the house of the accursed person. The pole channeled the destructive forces of Hela, goddess of death. These forces were carried up the pole and projected through the horse skull.

The runes carved on the pole defined the character and target of the destructive forces. Among others, triple Thorn [Thurisaz] runes and triple Is [Isa] runes, were used to smite the enemy. When used maliciously, these had the effect of disempowering the accursed's will and delivering him or her to the forces of destruction. Here, the Thorn rune invokes the power of Thurs, the demonic earth-giant sometimes called Moldthurs. An example of this comes from Skírnismál, where the spell used by Skirnir against Freyr's reluctant lover, Gerdhr invokes harm using the Thorn rune. This provides the power for three other runestaves: 'I shall inscribe Thurs for you, and three runestaves: lewdness, and rage and impotence.

Magically, the Niding Pole was intended to disrupt and anger the earth sprites (Landvaettir, Land-Wights or earth spirits) inhabiting the ground where the accursed's house was. These sprites would then vent their anger upon the person, whose livelihood and life would be destroyed. Niding Poles were also used to desecrate areas of ground. This technique is called álfreka, literally the 'driving away of the elves', by which the earth sprites of a place were banished, leaving the ground spiritually dead...

On the Niding Pole, the horse skull invokes the horse rune Ehwaz, using the linking and transmissive power of the rune for the magical working. The horse is sacred to Odin, god of runes and magic..."

During the Viking Age to put a "nid" on someone was to put very powerful verbal curse upon them. The power of words was not taken lightly by these efficient warriors, so to make a curse of this kind was very serious. It was the ultimate insult, and used only in dire circumstances.

In the Saga of Egil Skallagrimsson (an Icelandic/Norwegian story from the 10th century) King Eirik Bloodaxe, wronged Egil and made him an outlaw. The feuding resulted in many dead on both sides. After a battle on the island of Herdla (near Norway), Egil raised a hazelwood pole on the top of this island, and on the top of the pole he placed a severed horse's head, aimed towards Eirik's home. On the pole he carved sacred runes, with a curse upon King Eirik. He also spoke this curse, this "nid":

"Here I place this "Nidstang" ("curse-pole"), and turneth it against King Eirik and Queen Gunnhild - turneth I this against all the gnomes and little people of the land, that they may all be lost, not finding their homes, until they drive King Eirik and Queen Gunnhild out of the country."

According to the legend, the curse soon took effect, and King Eirik and his Queen Gunnhild fled to the British Isles.

This old custom has returned, and is again in use in our modern day. This is a very powerful ancient magic ritual, a curse with a power one should not use lightly and whimsically. These "nidstangs" have been placed to to defend our symbols and traditions from neo-nazis and other crackpots who "borrow" our sacred symbols and make them their own and vile.

We cannot be silent and pretend this is not happening. When wearing a Thor's hammer means taking the risk of being looked upon as a racist, and if carrying a sun-cross, or a rune, such as the Odal-rune, can get one arrested - then it is time to say "Stop!", to draw the line. We can't let these fools steal our heritage and soil it with their abusive and stupid attitude!

This "nid", this curse you can read here, is one in a chain of digital "Nidstangs", put up on websites around the world, and it is turned against everyone who misuses and abuses our ancient sacred symbols, and soils our land with hatred and discord. At the bottom of this page you will find links to the others who put up "nidstangs" around Scandinavia.

This curse is not turned exclusively on a certain easily detected group of young men (with shaven heads and/or carrying swastikas and such), but against everyone who answers to the description in this "nid".

This curse is not unconditional. It is only meant to fall upon those who persist in their destructive behavior. Tolerance and forgiveness are important principles for any spiritually inclined person, and no innocent should indiscriminately suffer from this curse.

It is also important to remember how the three great forces of society come together, making these misled persons much more powerful than they would have been on their own: politicians, in cowardice and opportunism, and businessmen and media, in desire of sensation and profit.

I curse!

I curse all of them

who soil our glorious land

with unworthy actions.

I curse all of them

who borrow sacred symbols

Gungnir, Mjolnir and Sacred Staves -

Odin's spear, Thor's hammer

and runes, given by Odin's hand

and soil them

with unholy deeds.

I curse all of them

who in ugly costumes

and shaven heads

as well as suits

and ties

abuse the wisdom of our ancestors

our ancient ways

and our present faith.

I curse all of them

who want to silence

the mouths of others

for themselves to be heard

with their stupid bellowing.

I curse all of them

who put themselves above others

because of their paleness,

who trample on others

because of the color of their skin,

foreign language,

or a different faith.

Upon the heads of these miscreants

I call all powers!

I call upon the gnomes, and the little people

to scratch their bodies

and disturb their sleep.

I call upon the elf-smiths

to lay an iron ring

around their chests

giving little room for their spirit

little room for breath

to speak of evil.

I call upon the "rimthurses" (frost-giants)

from the depth of Niflheim

That they may freeze to their death

before they get a chance

to freeze others out.

I call Surt and his "fire-thurses"

That they may burn to their death

before others may burn

by their hands.

I call upon Loki

That he may twist their vision

so that they strike each other down

before they strike anyone else down.

I call upon Freya

So that these young men

never may share a woman's bed

and never have sons

or daughters of their own

as long as they want to hinder

others to do just that.

And I call upon Frey

That these young men

have their manhood gelded,

never being able to create anything good

for themselves,

never getting peace

or harvest,

as long as they want to hinder

others to do just that.

I call upon Thor

that he may protect us

from demonic evil

and I call upon his wrath

against the miscreants

who wants to cause pain to others.

I call upon Odin

Allfather.

He who gave spirit

to man and woman.

He who together with his brothers

Hoenir and Lodur

Gave life to man,

Body and Soul,

Ask and Embla,

Man and Woman.

I call upon Odin

and the "Norns".

Goddesses of destiny,

Urdh, Verdhandi and Skuld,

who together judge

everyone after death

that they may judge

these miscreants hard,

so that they

not even after their deaths

may escape their deeds of evil

against other sons and daughters

of Ask and Embla.

I set this "nid"

until these drooling servants

of evil and ignorance

do penance

and let each and one

stay by their land, their people

and their faith

wherever in our world

they may choose to live.

http://www.sunnyway.com/runes/nidstang.html

[golden-pickaxe]

Odal - Part 20

Fandom: Vikings

Paring: Ivar x Reader

Type: Viking Times

Word Count: 2852

Warnings: very light smut and angst

[All Parts Here]

A/N: I rewrote this chapter 4 times, and am finally (kind of) happy with it. I hope you lovely, lovely readers will enjoy it!

[Playlist]

Summary: When you were just a child, you had been adopted by two shieldmaidens, as one of six sisters. Now, all grown up, the lot of you join king Harald to avenge the death of Ragnar in England. A journey, that is going to change the life you’ve known before.

Tagging: @lightningwitcher @lovelynerdytraveler @everlasting9 @cbouvier23 @hallowed-heathen @twilight-loveer  @kingniazx @moondustmemories @karmezii

“I don’t want to disband the great army..” Ivar murmured into your hair, his strong arms wrapped around your body, his face burrowed in the crook of your neck.

 It was late at night, you had once again sneaked out of the tent you shared with your sisters, unable to bear being apart from Ivar for another night, and were now lying in his bed, under his furs. Both of you were only dressed in a light tunic, although he was still wearing his trousers, his firm body warm against your back.

 “Me neither.” You admitted, your fingers lazily stroking over his calloused hands, that were around your waist. “I don’t want to settle here.. in between the Christians. They are not trustworthy.”

 “They showed that much when they killed the settlement my father built here. And this land they gave us.. it is even farther south, right in the middle of the country. We would be surrounded.” Ivar continued, before pressing a small kiss onto your neck. “We could never defend it.”

 “What would stop them from just taking it back?” you swallowed, your question rhetorical.

 “Nothing.” Ivar still answered, a sigh leaving his throat.

 “What do you propose, then?” you turned around in is arms to face him, his hooded blue eyes looking down at you. Lying next to him always made you realise how tall he actually was, and you often imagined how he would look like standing up, towering over you.

 “That we go back north, closer to our lands. Try to find a good position there.” He said, raising his hand to stroke some of your hair out of your face.

 You nodded slowly, thinking about his plan, when you suddenly remembered something Asta had told you when she had returned from her raid in England. It had been years ago, and you had been quite young, but the information should still be accurate.

 “There is a town up north, called York, close to where we defeated king Aella. When my sister was here on a raid, she and the men she was with raided trading ships making their way there from the sea. It is close to the shore, and lies on a major river.” You explained, trying your best to remember the details. You had been so excited when your oldest sister had told you about it, that you probably had not properly listened.

 “York..” Ivar repeated, his brows furrowed in thought. “We would be closer to our home from where we defeated Aella, closer to the sea.. do you know anything else?” he mustered you intently.

 You sighed, turning onto your back, your eyes fixed at the tent ceiling while you strained your mind to recall what Asta had told you all those years ago.

“My sister never saw the place, they went never that far inland, so I don’t know too much about it. But she said that she had heard that York has high walls, and strong buildings, like a fortress.”

 “It would make a great stronghold.” Ivar’s fingers traced your jawline, reaching your chin to turn your head towards him. A soft smile was on his lips, as he studied your face. “You are very beautiful.”

 “So you’ve said.” You chuckled at his words, closing the distance between you to press a kiss onto his lips.

 Your hands found their way into Ivar’s hair as you turned your full body towards him once more, deepening the kiss. Ivar sighed, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist once more, to pull you closer against him.

 Even though he had seemed inexperienced at first, he had quickly gotten the hang of it, and you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips, lost yourself in the feeling of his tongue moving against yours, your fingers massaging the back of his neck, stroking through his hair.

 Without really thinking about it, acting more out of instinct than anything else, you hooked your leg over his hips, pulling yourself flush against his body, causing his breath to hitch in his throat.

Ivar broke the kiss, but your hands on his head kept him from moving away from you.

 It had been months now since the two of you had shared your first kiss, on that cold day by the small stream, and it had been months since you had slept next to him under his furs for the first time, him resting in your arms as if they were a safe-haven. You needed to know what it was that kept him from going further, what kept him from barely moving his hands beyond your waist.

 “What is it, Ivar? Why does this scare you?” you whispered against his parted lips. “I told you that I don’t care about your legs.”

 And that was the truth.

You had told him many times that you never knew him differently, that his legs were as much part of him as his eyes, that they made him what he was. He had not shown them to you, as of yet, had always worn his trousers when you slept next to each other, and had never let you into his tent on washday. You wanted to give him the time he needed to be comfortable enough to show them to you, to understand that you really did not care, but by now you grew a bit impatient.

 He was a man after all, and even he had to have his needs and desires, just as you had. The thought of him not finding you attractive enough had crossed your mind, but with the way he looked at you, and told you that you were beautiful every chance he got, you dismissed that thought rather quickly.

 “It is not my legs.” Ivar swallowed. “I tired.. to tell you before, but I could not bring myself to do it.”

 “Tell me what?” you were confused, and slightly scared, you had to admit, now moving a bit backwards to be able to look the youngest Ragnarsson into the face, although your hands and leg were still around him.

 Ivar closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, as if he was bracing himself for what he was about to say.

“I..” he paused. “I can’t please a woman.”

 There was silence between the two of you, and you stared at him, although his eyes were still closed, squeezed shut as if the words he had just spoken brought him pain.

Everything seemed to fall into place now, his hesitation, his fear of being too close to you, of you touching him.

It was not only your reaction to his legs that he had feared, but also to this piece of information. He had probably been scared of you noticing on your own, to laugh at him or leave him because of it.

You swallowed, as still, you had to ask.

 “Have you.. tried?” you kept your voice as calm as possible, the way Ubbe always talked to Ivar if he was angry or distressed, so that he would know that you would not just get up and leave him.

 Ivar nodded.

“Yes.”

 You chewed your lip.

“With whom?” you hoped that you did not sound jealous to him, as you truly were not, but there was a thought in your head you needed confirmed.

 Ivar opened his blue eyes again, his brows furrowed a bit.

“What does it matter?” he asked, voice weak, and you saw in his face that he did not like to remember it.

 “Just tell me.” Your fingers continued to caress the back of his head, trying to make him relax.

 “She.. she was a slave girl.” He finally said, still hesitating a bit.

 “Did she want you?” at that the man froze a bit.

 “I.. I don’t think she did.” He admitted, looking down at the fur between you, once more seemingly unable to face you. He looked beaten down and sad, a view that broke your heart.

 Your hand moved from Ivar’s neck to his cheek, as you searched for the right words, trying to bring a point across that Gudrun had told you a few years ago.

“Maybe that was the problem.” You spoke, causing him to look back into your eyes, now frowning even more in confusion.

 “What do you mean?” he asked, looking from one of your eyes to the other.

 “Well..” you started, licking over your lips. “I just.. I will speak honestly with you, as I always do, and I hope you won’t be angry with me and my observations.” You searched his eyes for a reaction, but he just quickly nodded, eager for you to go on.

 “Since we met, it seems to me as if your feeling of confidence and self-worth is highly connected to your ability to do things. So, if something does not immediately work out the way you think it would, you get angry and frustrated.” You explained carefully.

 He did not say anything to that, and you saw in his face that he knew you were right. Being normal, being able to do what his brothers did, all of that was a big part of his life, always trying to achieve to be just like everyone else.

 “The first time being with another person in this way, is always stressful and things can go wrong. I don’t even want to think about my experience, it was just awkward and weird and not satisfying at all.” You chuckled drily, causing one corner of Ivar’s mouth to raise slightly at your words.

 But he was still listening, taking what you had to say seriously, and that was what mattered. You saw him roll his eyes and blend out the words of his brothers when they annoyed him, and you were happy that he did not do that to you.

 “So of course you are nervous and afraid that things will go wrong, and she is there, not really wanting to be there..” your eyes wandered down to his lips, as his eyes were too emotionally open for you to be able to look into them, while your hands traced down his neck and onto his chest. “That all just adds up to a big mess of feelings and all that..” you sighed.

 You licked your lips, trying to sort your thoughts, trying to think about what you actually wanted to bring across, while at the same time showing Ivar that there was nothing wrong with him, and also showing him that you very much wanted him, the way this slave girl apparently didn’t.

“When we know that the other person does not really want to be there, it is hard to enjoy it..”

 You carefully pressed a kiss onto Ivar’s lips, but before he could deepen it again, you broke away, starting to kiss along his strong jaw, down to his neck, causing him to groan lowly.

 “But when we are with a person we trust, a person we are close to, where we feel safe..” you continued, speaking the words against his heated skin between your kisses. “.. and who wants us just as much as we want them.. who want to be exactly there and nowhere else..” you let your teeth scratch against the soft skin under Ivar’s ear, nipping at his neck. “..things can feel very differently.”

 “But I never even got to the point where I would enjoy it.. my..” he groaned.

 Shaking your head lightly, your hand continued to move down his chest, finally slipping under the hem of Ivar’s tunic, stroking over his side. He flinched a bit, as your hands surly felt cold against his hot skin, but did not complain.

 “Gudrun told me that such things are not unnatural in situations like these. She once had a lover who grew so nervous every time she was with him, that his dick did not seem to work. Then one night, he was drunk on ale, not nervous, and it worked just fine.” You giggled.

 “Can this really happen?” he asked, shivering under your touch.

 “Yes.” You whispered, before you bit down on his neck, causing him to moan, his hands gripping you tightly.

 Before you could react, Ivar rolled over you, sliding in right between your thighs, his blue eyes fixed on you like a wolf on its prey. In one smooth motion he pulled his tunic over his head, causing you to release a shaking breath, as your eyes wandered over the man’s strong shoulders and arms, his broad, firm chest looming above you.

 His hair fell forward and into his face, but he brushed it back.

“I trust you, Y/N, and I do want you.” He said breathlessly, his hands on both sides of your head to support himself.

 Before you could answer him, he had lowered himself, his weight now resting on his elbows to not crush you beneath him, pressing his lips against yours, kissing you with so much passion and fever, like he had never kissed you before.

 Automatically you wrapped your legs around his hips, your hands stroking over his chest, your whole body starting to tingle with the familiar feeling of arousal building up inside of you.

Oh, how long you have thought about this, dreamt about this.

 Ivar grabbed one of the furs that covered the two of you, pulling it off his back as he felt too hot, and the cool night air hitting your skin made you shiver under him.

 You felt him grin into the kiss, before suddenly, he grinded his hips into yours, causing you to gasp against his lips. You only wore your tunic, and the knowledge that there was just the fabric of his trousers separating you made you shiver for a whole different reason.

 Ivar stopped, breathing against your mouth, swallowing hard.

You felt it, before he started to speak, felt him slowly harden against you, proving you right.

 “It.. works.” He just whispered, his breath shaking.

 “I told you it would.”

Afraid that he could become so nervous again, overthinking too much, you pulled him towards you by his neck, resuming your kiss and wrapping your legs around him even tighter now. He moaned into the kiss, one of his hands moving to your waist and stoking up and down your side, while his hips started to grind against yours again, the rhythm erratic and irregular, the friction still feeling incredible.

 Still, it was not enough, the tingling feeling inside of you only growing with the sounds he made against your lips. You did not want to rush him though, just kissed him, touched him, and let him do what he needed right now. There would be a time to teach him what you liked, but this was not now.

Now you just enjoyed his raw and passionate kisses, his body moving against yours, his hands on your side and the fact that for the first time, he did not hold back.

 His hand wandered lower along your side, finally reaching your naked thigh that was wrapped around his hips, stroking over your soft skin, his calloused hand feeling hot in contrast to the cool air of the tent. His breath grew heavier, his movements quicker and more erratic, and you felt that it would not take much longer.

 You raised your hands to his shoulders, stroking over the firm muscles before your fingernails scratched over his skin. You bit into his lower lip, and that was apparently all it took to send him over the edge, as he moaned loudly into your mouth, his whole body stiffing for a moment, before he collapsed onto you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You regretted that you had kissed in the moment he had come, as you would have loved to see his face, but you knew that you would have many other chances to see it, now that he knew tht he was capable of it.

 “I..” he started, his breath still heavy and hot against your neck.

 “No holding back now, yes?” you asked, lips pressed against his ear.

 Ivar sighed, and you felt him nod, before he rolled off of you, an expression of pure bliss, but also slight embarrassment written all over his face. You had to giggle, pressing a kiss onto his reddened cheek.

 “If you want to apologise, don’t.” you said, stroking over his lips with your digit finger. “You can show me what kind of man you are on many other occasions now.”

 Ivar chuckled, running a hand through his face, before looking back at you as if you were the most precious thing he had ever seen.

 “Being with you, I think I’m really favoured by the gods.” He smiled, wrapping one arms around your shoulders, pulling you against his naked, firm chest. “I want to feel everything with you.”

 “And I want to be yours.” You sighed, puling the furs over both of your bodies once more.

 “If the gods will it.” Ivar kissed your forehead, but you just closed your eyes and sighed.

 “They do.”

[dmcracy]

Solo campaign p.2 + Group 2. Poisons

The curiosity brought Myrta out of the forest to the small encampment made by gnolls . She saw those appalling creatures moving some prisoners to one of their tents and she immediately made a plan to put them all to sleep by poisoning the water. She was a herbalist and found some herb she thought might help create a poison. I made her roll a herbalist check and the result was a small vial or dark green liquid with an awful smell. She turned into some animal - snake I think - and sneaked to the camp (with her grass snake friend she made earlier in the game). No guard spotted her presence and she emptied a whole vial to their water reserve. Then she slithered away and waited.

Nothing was happening for a while and she began to worry that her plan failed. So Myrta and her bear got closer to the camp. Nothing was moving. They got even closer and finally realized that something was wrong. In the centre of the camp, Myrta found a bunch of dead gnolls close to the water reserve barrels. They died so fast it almost made a pile of them and I gave her a nickname Myrta the Poisoner. The remaining gnolls just run away to the mountains. After a moment of astonishment Myrta noticed smoke rising from the nearby village to the north and immediately released the prisoners and moved to the smoking village. The village was called Meander and she just accidentally saved its people since the gnolls were hunting its denizens. When she arrived and told the local mayor, MacGilmere, about the accident, the people were so relieved they started repairing the village and promised to make her a statue. In the meantime Myrta also healed one man from the head injury what made their decision even more concrete. The mayor even housed her in his house and she was given a magical dagger +1: Letterbane (the poor dagger never saw a real action and was used only to open letters, so whenever someone wanted to use it on a paper it trembled).

At this point, her patron revealed himself to her for the first time. Brandobaris took his normal form of a halfling lad and talked to her in some barn. She was suspicious about him because he was cryptic and kinda out of place in here. He disappeared without a trace soon after the talk and she met another NPC - a mercenary called MacCorryn. This guy came from the far south looking for some job. He traveled across the sea after some troublesome job he had in Slanterk. The job went poor and he got kicked more than a dozen times to the butt but eventually crawled to the temple and healed himself. Yes, this was the guy Llthrae and Mína fought on the streets of Slanterk. They talked a bit and somehow figured that those gnolls are still a threat if not all dead and people of this village need to be safe. So without any delay, they went to the gnoll camp and tracked the remaining gnolls to the mountains.

After some time, and one well placed entangle spell on the side of the mountain while falling to certain death, they found a cave where the remaining gnolls were hiding. The stench was terrible, bones and filth were scattered in front of the entrance and a very low voice was chanting something (there was a gnoll warlock trying to summon shoosuva). So Myrta made another plan - the cave must be pulled down and whatever was within shall be imprisoned. But while they were planning the guards spotted adventurers and attacked. They were dispatched, Myrta and MacCorryn tried to release some loose rock on the top of the cave. But the rocks would not budge and the chant was getting louder. Time was running out. The bear Myrta befriended was walking behind them nervously, because there was not enough space for its large body. Then, suddenly, they heard an unknown voice saying “dont get scared now” followed by cracking of bones and stretching of skin and a pair of large clawed bearlike hands pushed the rock with them. The rocks have fallen, everybody inside the cave died. MacCorryn quickly turned and saw a werebear standing behind them. This was Drýđ, a very unfortunate girl.

*******************************************************************************************

At this point, I introduced to my players a wandering mercenary siege engineer named Bors. Llthrae wanted to have his fort as invisible as possible but possible to defend if necessary (Mína could not join the game and her absence lasted for like 6 months). We made some preparations and Bors kinda joined the group. He played a mix of NPC and PC. I was expecting a good results in his playstyle because we played a lot of games together. But what happened amazed me. He totally nailed his character and played well even in those early moments. He even made a blueprint of that fort and gave it to us as PDF one day. And yes, he is my favourite. Not favourite meaning he can do anything he wants and everybody gets trash. No. He is my favourite because he plays so damn well, encourages others to do stuff so I can focus on details and remembers everything so I - a great improviser - can count on him because sometimes I just forget to make a note (for two hours for example, because I am dealing with things like players not having the char sheets and so on). 

Now Llthrae needed some workers. I made a sheet with a few possible groups so he could go and hire them. That never happened. He ordered Stan to do that while they waited in the fort. So, eventually, all of those groups came to the Western forest to work for Llthrae. Half-orcs, goblins, tiefling, gnomes, halflings, half-elves, dwarfs, and an elf. Yes, most of them hated each other. Everybody wanted something else. And even half-orcs disliked goblins. Then, Llthrae needed stone to build his home. The workers were given orders to clean the old road running through the forest, grub the surroundings of the ruin and prepare the wood for construction. Off course, Stan was given the order to watch them and the master (Llthrae) went to Mirin Kartak to talk to the quarry master. Do you remember the guy Llthrae woke up in the middle of the night banging on his door demanding more weed? That was Odal. And Odal remembers. So when Llthrae asked about the mason he was pointed to Odal’s house. Naturally, he did not remember what happened and Odal almost had a heart attack when he saw him again. But Bors was with them and they (Bors and me) made a deal (Bors saving the day was a canon from this moment). The stone was eventually delivered for a normal price and the construction work begun.

First, there was such low morale of his workers that the construction time extended for a month (Llthrae had no time to oversee his fort because he was enchanting an axe for Orik). The workers had nowhere to sleep and there was no real organization (the fort was still a ruin and a small tower where Bostock lived was big only for few people). Eventually, they were forced to group workers who can cooperate and build houses for them so the work could take a normal pace (trust me I know what I am talking about). Some accidents happened (Orik tried his new axe on a tree, the tree fell on a worker who was relieving himself) but they managed to help them and even improve the morale by granting workers a day off and preparing some refreshment for them. As sad as it sound when I look at the game now I see how Llthrae improved without Mína in our game (she had a little cameo, where she spent the entire time the fort was constructed in bed with the tiefling - he was a famous gigolo named Kaiil and I know - I am evil). He was influenced by others and tried to think more I guess (and my heart grew bigger for him).

As the fort grew they made few visits to Mirin Kartak, where Orik and Bors (and even Llthrae I think) trained with a famous swordmaster Caleb Arnyan. They even discovered a small cave close to the fort and befriended a mimic (they tried to kill him at first, but I played him too cute to kill so they kept him - another trap worked as I wanted). When Llthrae asked its name he responded Filip (in our country having a Filip means being smart - this was meant as a joke but we all liked it and they never bother naming him anyway). And when the work was almost done, Jolten Onnock and Argo Arkenbrand visited them. They explained to Llthrae that he could not cut timber wherever he wanted but if he would like to he can start a business with timber and the fort can work as a trade post (both merchants realized the potential this small event created - a clear road, taxable fort and so on). So when Llthrae heard about paying taxes and earning free money the invisible fort idea vanished. The merchants gave him a notion to build a repository and left to make a contract. He obeyed without a complaint.

The small house halflings built for themselves earlier was turned into a proper hobbit house with a great kitchen and they started cooking for the whole fort - it was the only thing they wanted to do here anyway and they were bloody good cooks (one of their famous treats was a gingerbread which Filip loved). The other house Kharmar and his half-orks built was turned into a hall style house where travelling merchants could be accommodated (this house had a grand fireplace warming up whole building - this was the favourite place for Stan). So, when the final day came the workers were given payment and goblins and half-orcs (they became friends in the meantime) got employed as workers in the fort from that day. Bors received more than a thousand gold for his work and joined their group. And the next day, they all ventured to Slanterk to seal the contract and to celebrate two new ships from the wood Llthrae provided. One was named Sea Beauty and the other was given a name by Llthrae - Žriemäthnitpsä (I hope). I was happy, Llthrae was happy (I think) and the celebration was glorious.

But happiness made folk blind and darkness was already gathering. And a floating corpse in the docks foretold their future.

[rudolf-rokkr]

On “reclaiming” the swastika, schwartze Sonne, etc

Let me get it out of the way that of course I know the swastika is not an exclusively Germanic symbol, I know it has a long history in many parts of the world. That’s just not what I’m talking about now. Heathens who bring this up in defense of using the swastika in their own Germanic context are committing cultural appropriation -- laying claim not to another culture’s symbol but its cultural context which is unrelated to the person making the claim. Sorry, doesn’t work that way. I’m talking about ásatrúar or other heathen people who whine about how they should be able to walk around with swastika ink or on t-shirts or banners or ritual equipment and be protected from criticism, especially if it’s because “it’s their religion.”

And like... this is so obvious I don’t even know how to articulate it but... they’re still being used to terrorize and oppress people. They have a current, productive, socially-conditioned meaning that you cannot isolate them from. But even that isn’t what I’m gonna talk about right now.

My honest opinion is that heathens wouldn’t give these symbols a second thought if the Nazis hadn’t gotten their hands on them first. They’d be aware of swastikas because they were pretty ubiquitous, in a way that had nothing to do with paganism, before the Nazis claimed them but nobody would think of them having any specific importance to pre-Christian paganism; I doubt they’d even know about schwarze Sonne. I’m not at all trying to say that everyone who wants to “reclaim” them is a Nazi themselves but it does mean they’re buying half of the Third Reich narrative about them. They were nothing to these people until the Nazis said they were. If the Nazis had used, I dunno, a triquetra instead, they’d be whining about that instead and would be saying “what, the hook-cross? That’s a heathen symbol? The thing on all those buildings in Philadelphia? Sorry man but that sounds like New Age bullshit to me.”

You know how I know? A few ways.

For one thing people do things like take Vegvísir and surround it with elder futhark runes -- demonstrating that they consider the entire past to be a grab bag of fashionable symbols to do whatever they want with (reminder that Vegvísir is situated in time closer to us right now than to elder futhark). This doesn’t qualify as cultural appropriation because the peoples who created and could interpret these symbols according to their own living semiotic systems are long dead but it does really drive home the fact that the people who created and could interpret them are long dead. Do you see what I’m getting at? We don’t know what the swastika meant to people living in Germanic-speaking places in the Migration Age or after. Some people insist it was a solar symbol or otherwise that it was a symbol of the thunder god (which tbh is appropriation from victims of the Nazis, the Baltic people) but not only don’t you actually know that, even if it’s true we have an abundance of other symbols to signify the same things and furthermore that we know signify the same things. If you want to “honor the ancestors” don’t start by robbing their graves. This isn’t our culture. Some of us are trying to reincorporate these things into a living network of symbols and meaning but these fucking Norse hipsters won’t let us because I guess it’s elitist to know what language was used with what writing system. Not to mention that it most likely meant different things to different groups anyway (sure looks solar to me on Alemanni artwork though the thunder god interpretations are pretty appealing too). Oh yeah, not to mention that this “it’s all the same/part of the same/ours” is a feature of the Nazi view of the Germanic past, as well as touches on points 1 and 2 of Umberto Eco’s ur-fascism. The ubiquity of this misinformation is a product of the folkish stranglehold on heathenry and it needs to be dismantled.

Second, nobody seems to care at all about any symbols that weren’t used by the Nazis, with the exception of those the proliferation of which is tied directly to the study of pagan religion (Mjölnir, valknut)... Like how many of these “reclaim the swastika” types even know the Bowen knot ⌘ appears in Germanic art (“what, the Apple command key? That’s a heathen symbol? The thing on all those signs for national parks? Sorry man but that sounds like New Age bullshit to me.”)? That’s what I meant earlier when I said people would be aware of the swastika existing, but that it would have no general perceived connection to Germanic paganism -- it would just be another one of these. Ikonographischer Katalog is free online, people. If you know the words “bildsten” and “hällristningar” you’ve got all the symbols you can eat. By the way, those symbols like Mjölnir and valknut that have gotten picked back up -- it’s because the previous paragraph doesn’t apply. We have a kind of decent understanding of them in archaeology, and if nothing else they’ve acquired meaning as a product of their modern reception. They actually have the communicative power of symbols recognized by a community.

The most damning reason of all is that people fight over the winged “odal” rune used by volunteer SS which is not from the actual fucking runic record. The black sun that most of us would recognize is also not from the archaeological record -- there are a few pieces of jewelry that the twelve-pronged symbol we know and hate (which was designed for the floor of the Wewelsburg castle) but they are clearly different, with an odd number of spokes and no connecting band. So while I wouldn’t defend anyone for wearing an authentic Migration Age black sun anyway, why the fuck is it only the one that’s only a Nazi symbol and nothing else that anyone is ever crying about?

So yeah, I’m well aware of the context in which these (or related) symbols do actually appear in the archaeological record, and I do think it fucking sucks that the Nazis grabbed them up and turned them into symbols of white supremacy and hatred -- but heathens “reclaiming” by and large don’t have a claim, and there’s no significant different between them and plenty of other symbols on record other than that the Nazis used them. I genuinely believe they only get upset over them not because they represent any particular reality of pre-Christian European religion, but because they were handed them on a silver platter.

Tell you what, you want to reclaim them, I’ll even get your back -- but not until after every last Nazi has been in the ground for five generations.

[devilrydaily]

92 Truths

Rules:Write 92 truths about yourself then tag 25 people (dude 25 is all the followers i’ve got!) ..well anyway i was tagged by @ivartheboneme here it goes…

LAST…

1#Drink: a mix of sage and spearmint. 2#Phonecall: my best buddy 3#Text message: my sister 4#Song you listened to: Tyr by Wardruna 5#Time you cried: 2 months ago…funeral.

HAVE YOU EVER…

6#Dated someone twice:No 7#Been cheated on:Yes 8#Kissed someone and regret it: Yeees.. 9#Lost someone special: yes 10#Been depressed: No 11#Gotten drunk and thrown up:Yes

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLOURS…

12#Purple 13#Green 14#Black

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU…

15#Made new friends:No 16#Fallen out of love:No 17#Laughed until you cried:yes many times. 18#Found out someone was talking about you: there’s always someone talking about you! 19#Met someone who change you: No 20#Found out who your true friends are:I’ve found out about that many years ago. 21#Kissed someone from your facebook list:Yes

GENERAL…

22#How many of your facebook friends you know in real life: many of them i do…not friends though just people i know. 23#Do you have any pets: yes i do…a dog name Loki and two cats Tommy and Zeus…my furry fluffy babies! 24#Do you want to change your name:Already did that when i converted from christian orthodox to Dodecatheism (you have to pick up an ancient greek name) 25#What did you do for your last birthday: Went sailing around Delos island, visited the ancient ruined city, placed offerings to Apollo. 26#What time did you wake up around: 8:30 when i work when i’m not, it depends. 27#What where you doing at midnight last night: i was playing “Hearthstone” with friends at friend’s house. 28#Name something you cannot wait for: My hair to grow long long long long again!I had to cut them sorter due to head surgery i had!DAMN IT! 29#When was the last time you saw your mother: a few minutes ago. 30#What is one thing you wish you could change about your life: …i want another dog a female one…a corgi if possible! 31#What are you listening to right now: “Odal” by Wardruna 32#Have you ever talked to a person name Tom??? Well yes actually i have meet many people named Tom but none of them was “Hiddlestone” so far and i’m getting a little concerned! 33#Something getting on your nerves: People asking me how i feel about the memorandum of understanding and soft ignorant cunts who believe greeks are lazy useless bastards cause their TV told them to! 34#Most visited website: Tumblr, Primewire, you tube, newsbeast.gr 35#Elementary: yes 36#High school: yes 37#College :yes… 3 year studies on photography and cinematography (now it’s just my hobby)and after that 4 years full of professional cooking and tourism industry. Now I’m a freelance chef working in various greek islands.. 38#Hair colour:Burnette 39#Long or short:Long long long long as it gets the better! 40#Do you have a crush on someone: my constant pain in the ass, my sun in the sky, my adorable trouble maker,my titan in the clouds…my man!…him and Jasper Paakoonen 😁😁😁 lately! 41#What do you like about yourself:My ability to ignore dumb people..my leathal sarcasm. 42#Piercings:Yes…ears,nose,belly button…coming soon tongue. 43#Blood type:I’m group 0… Donating blood is important guys specially if you ’re group 0..pls give! 44#Nickname: A.A.A (alphalphalpha)my father gave me this one… its greek…it stands for anarchistic controversial prick! dad knows best! 45#Relationship status:i’m with someone for ages (live together too)but can’t marry him cause his parents are christian and they don’t like me much..they think i’m a pagan heathen!It’s so fucking funny i love it! 46#Zodiac sign:♍ 47#pronouns: she\her\Αυτη 48#Fav TV show:..so many… recently vikings and AHS maybe walking dead! 49#Tattoos:Yes..(location only for the eyes of the beholder) 50#Right or left hand: Both

FIRST…

51#Surgery: left knee..massive internal bleeding,hurt like hell,bike accident…still hurts. 52#piercing:ears 53#best friend: Nadine 54#Sport: ancient greek martial art “pagration” Because i also have 3 brothers and i had to survive! 55#Vacation:Greece where else? 56#pair of trainers:??? What???dude i don’t remember!

RIGHT NOW…

57#Eating: nothing 58#Drinking : nothing 59#i’m about to:… finish this thing with 92 truths about me ‘cause i’m about to regret even starting with it! 60#Listening to:.. I’ve told you a thousant times i’m listening to WARDRUNA… by the gods if you ask me one more time i will offer you to them! 61#Waiting for:..my hair to grow long! 62#Want:…to get to truth number 92 now! 63#get married: i have to kill my mother-in-law first! 64#career:freelance chef

WHICH ONE IS BETTER…

65#Hugs or kisses: kisses 66#lips or eyes: eyes 67#shorter taller: taller 68#older younger: doesn’t matter…no wait…older 😁 69#???? 70#nice arms or nice stomach: nice stomache i guess 71#sensitive or loud : loud 72#hook up or relationship: it depends 73#Trouble maker or hesitant: troublemaker baby!

EVER…

74#Kissed a stranger: yes 75#Drank hard liquor: i’m not getting it..you mean like absinthe, ouzo and shit like that??..then yes! 76#Lost glasses or contact lenses: yes many times 77#turned someome down: YES 78#Sex on first date:it depends 79#Broken someone’s heart: YES many times 80#Had your own heart broken: YES many times 81#Been arrested: YES damn it!! they called it illegal graffiti i call it street art! 82#Cried when someone died: yes 83#fallen for a friend: like fall in love you mean?? Nuh!

DO YOU BELIEVE IN…

84#Yourself: but of course! This is fundamental ! 85#miracles: ..yes they do happen…when i cook 😁 86#love at first sight: yes it’s true! 87#Santa claus: that fat guy dressed in red..hell no..he is creepy as fuck! 88#kiss on first date: sure why not..is just a kiss bro! 89#Angels: NOOOO…

OTHER…

90# Current best friend:Victoria 91#Eye colour: Brown 92#Favorite movie: Fight Club.

Is that it?? Did i finally come at the end of this…??Well lets tag some people now @whenimaunicorn @sabbysocks @ivarthebonerless @mizzvengenz6661 @ivartheheathen @ivarthebonerless @lokitty @lokidog pls ignore if blah blah…blah..you get the idea..greetings everybody!

[golden-pickaxe]

Odal - Part 13

Fandom: Vikings

Paring: Ivar x Reader

Type: Viking Times

Word Count: 2230

Warnings: none

[All Parts Here]

A/N: Between uni and longsword classes I managed to use some in between time to finish this! Short but important ;)

[Playlist]

Summary: When you were just a child, you had been adopted by two shieldmaidens, as one of six sisters. Now, all grown up, the lot of you join king Harald to avenge the death of Ragnar in England. A journey, that is going to change the life you’ve known before.

Tags: @lightningwitcher @lovelynerdytraveler @everlasting9 @cbouvier23 @hallowed-heathen @twilight-loveer

Frost came much earlier than expected this year, and so the army decided to spend the winter in Wessex. Hallgrim had been more than angry about it, being nervous for weeks and spending time mostly by herself, until Yeva had yelled at her, that your mothers were not so old to not be able to survive a winter on their own.

 In contrary to what you were used from Norway, the winter in England was rather mild, although very wet, just like the rest of the year. It rained more, and everything was constantly muddy, but there was no snow, and barely any frost that lasted longer than the morning hours. The days also grew shorter, but never as short as they did back home.

 There was a weird mood in the army, with the tension that arose after the death of Sigurd, and with everyone already decided what they would do as soon as spring came around. You spent most of your time either training with Asta, speaking with Gudrun or taking long walks through the fields and woods around the villa by yourself, deep in thought. The foul mood that had overcome you after finding out that two of your sisters would soon not be with you anymore, had not left, and the whole situation with Ivar did not do much to improve it.

 Thinking of him, you had barely talked to Ivar since he had killed his brother. You were not sure if he was avoiding you, or if you were avoiding him, as the words of your sister, the parts of the poem she had recited, were still ringing in your ear.

You rarely saw Ivar outside of the villa, who seemed to seclude himself, from the army and from his brothers. You were not sure if he was mourning, or simply not wanting to show his face so soon after what he had done.

 With a sigh, and a thick cloak around your shoulders, you wandered along the riverbank of the small stream running near the villa, your warm breath forming small clouds in the cold air in front of your face. You were, as so often, on one of your many walks, as always hoping that it would clear your mind, although it never did.

 You were deep in thought, barely paying attention to the world around you, letting the past months, as so often, go by in your head, trying to pinpoint the moment where it had all started to change, where you had lost control over your fate.

Was it when you had reached England? When you had left Vestfold? Or when you all had decided to join your king in the pursuit of revenge?

 You stopped, staring down at the slow moving water of the river, your eyes moving over the muddy ground and up to the cloud covered sky. It would certainly rain again this night, as the clouds were dark and heavy, making it seem as if it was already late afternoon, and not before midday.

 “Why are we sent on such different paths? Why had fate brought us together, only to pull us apart again?” you asked, not even knowing to which of the gods you were speaking. To all of them, probably, to anyone of them who would listen to you.

 “Fate is not fair.” You suddenly heard a voice behind you, causing you to turn around quickly, hand immediately grabbing the axe on your hip.

 There, sitting rather hidden between the leafless bushes on the riverbed was Ivar, his figure wrapped up in a thick, dark cloak, a hood over his head.

 “You startled me.” Was all you could say, lowering your weapon with a shaking head, before you secured it back to your hip. You mustered Ivar. You had not seen him for weeks, only had caught quick glances when you had crossed the halls of the villa.

 “You know that it was an accident, don’t you? You know that I did not mean to kill him!” his blue eyes were pleading, so open and honest that you had to look away. You had not been quite prepared for this, had not thought that he would start your conversation with this heavy topic already.

 In truth, you did not know what to think, even though you had thought about it quite a deal in the past weeks.

“Deliberately throwing an axe into someone’s chest is not an accident, Ivar.” You said, trying to sound calm, like Ubbe always did, looking down at your hands. “No matter how angry you are.”

 “He insulted me!” Ivar hissed, causing you to huff.

 “And you accused him of Ergi! Yet he did not kill you!” with that you turned back to him, shaking your head once more.

 Ivar’s breathing was heavy, as he looked up at you. You could see that he was boiling inside, barely containing his anger. He knew that your words were true, and that he had been lying to himself, but he still did not want to admit it.

 You sighed deeply.

“Look, Ivar, despite what you have done, I respect you. And I will still follow you into battle, attack and raid England.” You started, mustering his sitting form. “But only if you realise what you have done. You are not a child and even if you are a prince, you must learn that your actions have consequences.”

 You were not sure how you mustered up the bravery to talk with Ivar like this, but you knew it had to be done. And in your past conversations, it had always seemed as if he respected your opinion and listened to you, in a way he never listened to his brothers.

 “You killed Sigurd. That is a fact. And even if you did not intend to kill him, it was not just an accident.��� You ended, folding your hands in front of you.

 “What do you propose, then?” Ivar tilted his head at you, raising his eyebrows. He was still angry, you could see that, but it lifted a weight from your heart to hear that he was at least taking your words seriously.

 “Accept it. Learn from it. Don’t do it again.” You spoke. “You only have so many brothers.” You added, a bit more silently, but Ivar heard it nevertheless.

 Your words made him chuckle, but then he looked away from you, over the slow running river. He must be cold, you thought, sitting the gods knew how long on the cold, moist ground, barely shielded against the wind.

 “I am.. just so angry all the time.” Ivar spoke up again after a few minutes of silence between the two of you.

 “When I was a child, Hrafna used to have such moments of anger and rage, that she forgot herself. She would destroy things, fight without thinking about herself.. in one of her rages she hurt Gudrun, and from that moment she knew she had to change.” You started, remembering how the red head had set at her sister’s bed, her hand clutched with hers, crying streams of hot tears.

 “What did she do?” Ivar sounded curious, looking up to you once more.

 “She used it. And so should you. Use your anger, but don’t forget to think, Ivar. You’re smart and you are wise, so use your head before you act. You don’t need to do more things you will regret.” You looked to the ground, shaking your head one last time before you turned away from the prince, starting to walk away from him.

 “Y/N!” Ivar called after you, his voice once more so pleading that you stopped and turned to face him.

 He looked kind of lost, how he was sitting there all alone on the riverbed on the cold ground on this gloomy day, his blue eyes filled with both regret and sadness. Your heart melted a bit, and your shoulders sacked a bit.

“Don’t leave.”

 You almost did not hear him over the distance, so low, so weak his voice was, but your heart ached at his words. He was very lonely, you could see it in his face, and you knew that his brothers avoided him after what he had done. You had to be honest, you could not blame them, as you did not know what you would do in their place. You did not even want to entertain the thought of what would happen if one of your sisters slayed another.

 You could not hold back the faint, sad smile that formed on your lips, but you finally nodded, walking back to him, and sitting down on the cold, moist ground beside him, wrapping your thick cloak tightly around your shoulders, and pulling your legs up to your chest.

 A few ravens flew overhead, and there was little sound besides the wind rustling through the leafless branches of the few trees around you. It was tranquil, and you suddenly understood why Ivar had been sitting here on his own.

 “I know why I am angry. But why are you?” his voice startled you once more, after you had sat next to each other for a few minutes of silence.

 “What?” you looked over to him, noticing how he was mustering you.

 “I watched you sulking around the villa. Your jaw clenched and your teeth grinding. What has happened?” he tilted his handsome face, his lips almost blue from the cold. You wondered how long he had been sitting here already.

 You sighed deeply, and shook your head.

You did not really want to talk about it, especially not with Ivar right now, as for one, you were not entirely sure what to think of him after he had killed his brother, but also as he was a big part of what frustrated you so much. Nevertheless, as you were sitting here so close next to him, on the cold, hard ground, far away from the rest of the army, the intense longing that pulled your heart to him, and which you had managed to ignore for the past few weeks, returned full force.

 You swallowed, deciding to tell him at least a part of your troubles.

“My sisters.” You started with a sign, looking down at your hands to avoid the gaze of the man next to you. “Hrafna is going to go with Halfdan to explore the Mediterranean sea with Bjorn. Hallgrim wants to go home to the farm, to help our mothers..” you looked up from your hands, towards the thick, dark clouds in the sky. “I have never been to battle without all five of them. We.. complete each other, and I don’t know.. I’m not sure if I can make it without them at my side.” You admitted.

 “From what I have seen of you, in life and in battle, you are a complete person on your own.” Ivar said. “You fight well enough, even without them.”

 You chewed your lower lip in thought.

Part of you of course knew that his words were true, but nevertheless, you were still scared. It had been bad enough for you to go to England without your mothers, the excitement at first drowning out your worries about going to war without the two women who raised you. But now, thinking that our numbers would shrink even more, ultimately halving the size of your band of shieldmaidens, it sparked the irrational fear in your mind, that you would lose more and more until it was just you. And you could not imagine a life without your family.

 “Y/N..” you looked down at your knee, that was not covered by your cloak, when you felt Ivar’s cold hand touching it. You turned your head to look at him, to look into his blue eyes, his expression open and completely vacant of his usual anger, even a faint smile on his pale lips.

 He was so beautiful, you thought.

The image of the serpent yet again came into your mind again like an unwelcomed guest, like it always did when you found yourself looking at Ivar for a bit too long, but this time it was different. This time it strangely did not scare you, this time it felt just as comforting as it had felt in the dream.

You felt the snake wrap itself around you, holding you tightly, Nidhogg the herald of Ragnarök setting your mind at ease, and calming your nerves.

It was this one moment, when you realised, that whatever you would do, whatever you would decide, fate would always bring you to this one man in front of you.

 You were not sure what to say now, or if you should say anything at all. You drowned in the blue of Ivar’s eyes, completely lost in the shifting clouds reflected inside of them, not noticing how Ivar leaned closer to you. The faint smile slowly left his handsome face, and all that was left was a mirror of the same longing that lived inside of you.

 Your gaze dropped down to his slightly parted lips for less than a second, but this was, as it seemed, all that it took to make Ivar decide, all that he needed to finally close the remaining distance between the two of you, closing his mesmerising blue eyes and pressing his cold lips against yours.