#gladofwar

[realitv]

&& @gladofwar ( from here )

“BEEN READING MACHIAVELLI lately, Wednesday? He wrote something to that effect.” She would know: she’d been there when the printing press had churned it out, after all. Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer’s favourite STARLET to push and pull and prod at like TAFFY sat prim and proud in her Easter bonnet and RUBY SLIPPERS: Judy hadn’t been able to GET HAPPY ( ! ) for years. “I would have thought him beneath you.” An edge to her voice: cold and hard as ice. TOTO ! WE’RE NOT IN KANSAS ANY MORE. 

  Respect was a hard word to fathom, stranger to put into action. Eyes narrowed: far removed from that oh-so lovable ingenue that America had called ‘ SWEETHEART ! ‘ for years. “Not so much respect for you, but I respect how desperately you hang on.” Like a COCKROACH. “--That thread must be FRAYING after a few thousand years: has MARVEL been keeping it from snapping?” 

[sinnhelmingrmoved]

⭐️ (・∀・ )

headcanons. ll accepting.

Once, in a far kinder time, when there were rather more of them, Wedneday’s sons joked among themselves about who was his favorite child. Was it bright and beautiful Baldr, brave and bold Thor, or any of the other boys who found their way to the New World?

Their cousin had her own opinions, standing and making herself known with a wry grin. Boys, boys, she grackled, full of herself, you’re all wrong. It’s me. It was always me. She might have been booed out of the room, but it was a very 19th century Why are you booing me? You know I’m right. (At least, in her own head.)

It also goes quite a ways to explain the rare occasion where he flubs and calls her uncle ‘Dad.’ She threaten Wednesday into silence as if she could actually collect on such threats.

[springmothera-blog]

@gladofwar.

                  ✿ . :  Ostara, she hadn’t heard that name in so long. Even most Gods were calling her Easter now, as if they’d forgotten who she was. But then. There’s him. and he’s strolling into her home like he owns the place, calling her by name. Ostara. Blonde hair tickles the shape of her spine and she watches him, green eyes bright, body humming with new energy. Lips part and she almost moans, the power feels so good. The new gods had given her a brand name, spread like wildfire through Christianity, but sacrifice… that was something else entirely. She studies him for a moment, the world grey around them. She’s taken the spring. He came, and he gave her a reminder of who she is, she is not a host for Christianity, she is Ostara of the Dawn, she is a G O D D E S S. “I-” could kiss you! She lets of a relieved sigh that almost turns into a giggle, a genuine smile on her lips. “Thank you.”

[sinnhelmingr-a-blog]

wednesday sends huginn and muninn to watch out for hel, and makes them pretend they're just regular ravens, but he's pretty sure they do a shit job of it anyways. whenever he thinks hel might be in deep shit, he will always send her a sign that he's ready to bail her out.

headcanon appraisal.

APPROVED!!!!

[theblindangel]

Smell of War || Closed RP

Pulses...that was all she could feel. Pulses. Sapphire eyes, shrouded with burnt flesh healed from time watched the crowds of people clustered in the club. Sweat beading off their brows, bodies pressing into each other for an exchange of warmth, and laughter ringing throughout the room. It was here in the New York club Nocturnal that Dr. Margaret Thompson could draw in the most energy to speak with the gods. But tonight was different...

Visions and whispers in her ear drew her to the club. A chance meeting with the Old World was what one spirit had said...a chance to save the Old World’s values said another. She could only hope that some of the other gods would not show up unexpectedly during the meeting with the stranger. Her long fingers tucked her long dark brown hair over her shoulder, her backless dress revealing a detailed tattoo of a Celtic shield knot, the ink consuming her flesh like a turtle’s shell.

Lips locked on the rim of the glass of water given to her by the bartender, another dollar placed in his jar as the woman sipped on the clear elixir. The meeting would be soon...she could feel it. Her eyes closed, mind going blank as the entire room fell silent. The music muted, the vibrations of the bar ceased from the heavy bass and bouncing bodies, the heat from the hordes of people cool...

“Where are you?” she whispered to herself.

@gladofwar

[helreginn]

gladofwar

helvitisbrokentoy

❛ You’re turning into a penguin. Stop it. ❜

“a penguin?” he raised an eyebrow in her direction, questioning her usage of the word. “i was looking towards more of a wolf, but i’d like to see what being a penguin is.”

“is it, perchance, pleasing to the eye? cute?”

@gladofwar

Cute? The word make her stomach churn. On his very best days, she at most found him mildly not-unpleasant.“Aren’t you even a little embarrassed by that question?”

[fatherlcss-blog]

    Brows furrow, mouth parts just slightly, and she looks confused. But it’s rather the opposite- she finds that possibly the best thing she’s ever heard. “I... never thought of it like that. Does it work though ?? I mean, did you do it ??” // @gladofwar cont.

[tetramother-blog]

@gladofwar cont. from HERE

     “I would hope so - considering I don’t have. . .BALLS.”

She’s rather surprised he would state such, brows furrowing in both confusion & arising curiosity. Certainly an interesting one, daring to grow lax in her chair as giving TRUST in believing he wouldn’t attempt anything rash towards her.