I Am Filth… I Am Vile..

📅 How long have you been roleplaying, and what got you started?

🌊 Do you prefer plotting everything out or going with the flow?

🪞 How similar are you to your muse(s)?

🎭 What’s your favourite genre to roleplay (angst, fluff, horror, etc.)?

💖 What’s a trope you love and will never get tired of?

🚫 What’s a trope you avoid or dislike?

🎧 Do you associate songs with your muse(s)? If so, share one!

🥹 Do you ever get emotionally affected by your threads?

🛋️ What’s your ideal RP writing environment (music, silence, chaos)?

✨ What’s your favourite thing about your muse(s)?

⏳ How long does it usually take you to reply to threads?

📝 Do you prefer short replies or long, detailed ones?

🏆 What’s your proudest thread or RP moment?

🌐 Do you enjoy crossovers with other fandoms?

🕵️ Do you stalk blogs before following them? Be honest.

💕 Who are you having the most fun writing with, at the moment?

😶 Are you shy about approaching new RP partners?

🌟 Where do you get inspiration for your writing?

🖼️ Do you make edits, moodboards, or playlists for your muse(s)?

😭 What’s the saddest scene you’ve ever written?

✈️ If your muse(s) could go anywhere, where would they go?

🎁 What’s a random fun fact about you (the mun)?

💻 Do you RP mostly on mobile or desktop?

🌙 Have you ever stayed up way too late just to reply?

🎲 Do you like doing random starter calls or planned plots more?

🤔 What’s something you’ve never tried in RP but want to?

✍️ Has your writing style changed over time? How?

🎯 Do you set personal goals for your RP (activity, improvement, etc.)?

🧪 Have you ever experimented with a completely different writing style or format?

🧑‍🎨 Do you prefer original characters, canon characters, or a mix?

📊 How much research do you do for your threads (if any)?

🔐 Do you keep secrets about your muse(s) from other writers on purpose?

✏️ Do you write outside of RP (stories, poetry, etc.)?

⛰️ What’s the hardest part of roleplaying for you?

🧱 What helps you get out of writer’s block?

📐 Do you prefer long-term threads or short interactions?

🚪 How do you usually start a new thread? Dialogue, action, or description?

⛓️‍💥 Have you ever taken a long break from RP? What brought you back?

🧠 Do you believe muses “have a mind of their own”?

✂️ How much do you edit your replies before posting?

🎬 Has any media (show/movie/game) recently inspired your RP?

🌀 Do you enjoy chaotic threads or calmer, character-focused ones?

🌱 How do you develop your muse(s) over time?

⚡ What’s something small that instantly makes you excited to reply?

📥 Have you ever adopted ideas from other writers into your own headcanon?

⚔️ Do you like conflict-heavy plots or softer dynamics more?

🪫 How do you handle losing motivation for a thread?

📦 If you had to move your RP somewhere else, where would you go?

🛑 Do you have any RP boundaries or topics you will not write?

😤 Do you have any pet peeves when it comes to RP partners or threads?

💌 Do you prefer people to DM you for plotting, or just jump into asks/starters?

🔄 How do you feel about dropping threads vs. pushing through them?

🫶 What makes you feel most appreciated as an RP partner?

👤 Do you ever write characters very different from yourself on purpose?

📚 Do you reread your old threads? Why or why not?

The choice words did not escape Loki, for what they implied. Once more? It is a rarity that he gets to talk to mortals more than once, primarily due to his busyness or present disinterest and their pitifully short lifespan on top of that, but some certainly do have the opportunity. It is odd to think that he forgot this one—surely he would have remembered, if such the case. Has the burden of his work culminated to such a feat that his concentration truly slipped him?

Perhaps it was also the other pressing frustrations in mind. Thor's coronation is due very soon, after all.

Regardless, the Oracle served a welcome distraction, so he attempted to recall her identity from her distinct features—glittery red eyes should be unique enough, he'd assume—only to discover that she had appeased him multiple times in the past, and was surprised when his memory of her extended centuries. Something that should be impossible, yet here she was, youth seemingly unchanged and not at all looking worse for wear, if anything, equipped with an improved sense of outfit and style.

"Hmm," he muttered to himself, pleased as all the hints came together. Unchanged features, unusually experienced practice. Dragon's blood. "The gift of immortality."

Many ways to acquire such a feat, though not many outlets visible to the populace of Miðgarðr. How fascinating that this one seemingly has served consistently and so thoroughly for centuries on end, and yet continue to do so tirelessly without breaking a sweat. Even after obtaining a quality most mortals could only dream to have. In many ways, it raises more questions than it provides answers.

"Your offerings are more than acceptable, if not inordinary. One wonders, with gifts abundant and experiences so comprehensive, what one would need to keep worshipping gods to begin with." Was she a vessel of a kind? Indebted? Surely if she was indebted, it would be only to the one patron, not given free reign to worship all. Deities were usually particular about that. "Is what you have not enough?"

Perhaps it was not anything of the sort. Satisfaction was not in his nature, and he would understand if a mortal likewise saw it as such.

"Many appease me to avoid chaos interfering in their life, but it seems that your everchanging self as you are comes with it an innate sense of it. Much has changed since we last conversed." He was never one for retaining pieces for too long, far more interested in keeping them all moving—and, at any rate, a direct line of communication to someone who'd witnessed the rapid changes of Miðgarðr over time would be extremely invaluable. "Tell me, Gná Sibyl, how have you yourself changed in the development of these past centuries?"

“Yes.. my immortality.” She assents quietly in return. Gna knew of how rare it often was for mortals such as herself to be gifted such a thing. Others not so lucky in how it affected them. But for her it was merely her path; the primordial life force flowing through her veins, gifted to her by gods in her early years to continue her path as a priestess.

“And I do not need much to continue my worship, my lord. It does not grow dull, never has and never will.. there are so many religions sprouting since my beginning years in my motherland. And I travel much and far, there is never brief moment in my heart where I do not acknowledge my current predicament being a blessing from the deities who imbued me with it.” She smiles softly, exhaling a breath in both equal remembrance and reverence.

Each year may have its yearly festivities and due tides she made to each god, but every time it drew something special from it. Old practices weren’t gone, just.. adapted. She continues many old traditions, but she also learned new ones and practices to learn. Something to add to her repertoire of knowledge to further her understanding of humanity as well as the deities she served and whatever they desired of her. Some decades were less.. peaceful than others. Blood weathered or peril filled. But she managed through. Like a phoenix dying and being reborn.

“I am.. satiated in my current position. I do not desire more nor less. Even if some festivities of worship demand more taxing effort.” She did not mind physical labor, her young girl years along the seashore required much of it. And even some of the more revelry filled feasts and days of worship- like Dionysus’s Anthesteria or the Carnivals.

“And chaos is an ever changing flow I have grown accustomed to,” she chuckles softly, not at the god but at herself- “Well, apologies, as much as one could. Even after so many centuries the mortals of the new generation’s surprise me with there inventions and some petty squabbles.”

Though even at her words she listens with all her senses and being to his words so she could respond due diligently, taking a moment to reflect and contemplate before responding calmly, though with a hint of thoughtfulness lingering quietly in her tone.

“…I suppose I over the years have moved, that is not new, I have traveled quite a lot compared to my early immortality years. Due to the means of travel being more fast, but it has taken time to get used to, as well as the new languages that come about. In terms of.. titles. I tend to have to change names as to not grow suspicious. Lest I get charged for witchcraft once more, that was not a fun year for me.” Her fingers twitch in memory. Those years of persecution were not her favorite, but it was a moment she has to bring up. “Perhaps the disagreements between the gods have not yet died down. If not have grown as always like the waning and waxing of the moon.”

She did not want to label it as… jealousy, per se. But it was close. Some deities grew acrid with one another if there ideas conflicted with the other, who would use her tools to speak there truths, and so on and so forth.. she has been told it was like a custody battle between adults over there child- if you count her centuries old self as there child. An odd concept she’d rather not divulge down in this moment.

Difficult Questions for Muses

Please remember to use trigger warnings as and when necessary. | Please specify for multimuses which muse the question is for.

Do you think that you’re a good person?

Do others like you? Do you want others to like you?

What do you think others like or admire about you?

How do you know when you’re in love? (romantic or platonic)

Would you or have you ever killed? What would drive you to kill? 

Do you think that killing is ever justified?

Have you ever done anything that you feel to be very morally wrong?

Should all people be treated as equal and have the same rights?

If you committed a crime, would you accept punishment willingly?

Is suicide ever the right choice?

Is euthanasia ever the right choice?

Is it right to have an intimate relationship with somebody you don’t love?

What could make you break your own moral code? 

Have you ever doubted your own beliefs? (Spiritual, philosophical)

Would you always be loyal to your loved ones even if they wronged you?

What would you consider a fate worse than death?

Why do you love the person or people you love? (romantic or platonic)

Do you agree with capital punishment?

Could you ever forgive your worst enemy?

What would you like to achieve before you die?

@phosphenes-nothingness

Layla look-

What I offer today is a plenitude of things that I wish will appease to you. Devoted candles, my finest mead and whiskey, dragons blood incense burning at this alter. As well as an assortment of meats dished into a platter with many engravings on it, fruits, fresh baked goods, along with cinnamon.

Please accept my offerings. . .

-Gna Sybil

While significantly less in number than a few centuries ago, prayers directed towards Loki were always welcome, and offerings even moreso. It was quite a pleasant reminder every now and then, knowing that not all of Miðgarðr had forgotten of Ásgarðr's might, that not all dismissed it as myth. It would serve their realm better in the long run. The thrill of worship may have died down long ago, but its brevity was enough for him to come to terms with that fact of the realm: Miðgarðr was unpredictable, chaotic in a way that pleased him, and it served to be their greatest strength and most fatal of flaw.

Still, they find continuous ways to surprise him. Not of startlement, but of unexpected delight.

Loki had adopted the habit of glancing at the realm whenever he felt a calling for it, occasionally leaving behind a brush of seiðr in a way that assured his assent, which was still far more attention given than the blatant disregard Thor has been showing of his followers. He knew it was chalked up to his brother's minimal practice of seiðr that the thought of even a simple scrying does not even occur to him, but he can suit himself as Loki preferred to reap for himself the delicacies they occasionally leave him, and this time, he was rewarded for his glance, catching an immediate strong whiff of cinnamon.

Mother-Father of Monsters. Clever, this mortal, to recognize his dual-nature, even if the kenning was unusual and likely misattributed. He is not the descendent of monsters, but the comment was easily sweeped away as he surveys the offering: Fine quality mead, well-prepared meat, and surprisingly, authentic dragon blood. He'd quirked a smile at that, thought those creatures extinct in the current time of this realm. A thoughtful offering, one of the most in a long time. The spread delighted him, and while they're certainly not lacking any food in the kitchens, he opt to whisk them for himself regardless. Some mortals were reassured by the thought, or sight, of their god accepting their offerings in its entirety—this one seems like she would be relieved of it, from the way she carries herself. Assured, yet practiced in the altar-creation, and—Loki confirms with a slight wave of his seiðr—harbours the blessings of many other gods, be it of Ásgarðr or other pantheons. How intriguing it was to see one who has pledged her fealty to so many patrons, and while he is unbothered by it, wonders the cause of it.

"Is it truly blessing that you seek," he questions aloud, allowing a small whisper to be audible in her ear, though keeping in mind to remain invisible through the scrying, "or merely the reassurance that you are never alone in your journeying?"

Idly, he wonders if she would respond. Not many have the courage to, but regardless, he is well aware of the reason people appease him—with a theatrical wave of the hand that nobody but himself could witness, he lays upon her a light spell of protection, heightened endurance to withstand tribulations in the next few days.

Chaos, is, of course, uncontrollable—it would be antithetical of him to try and steer it, but he knows the way mortals work: beyond the work of protection, sometimes merely the presence of a god watching over them was more than enough for them for their determination to endure all things impossible.

Although she wasn’t a designated devotee of Loki, though she would consider herself a follower of many deities of many pantheons, she had always given offerings on the days accordingly as well as the deities specific festivals. Sometimes they answered, sometimes not. And she was used to it. But at the questions the woman heard it couldn’t help but draw a faint twitch of a smile on her lips.

“I do not wish for much, my lord, I do what I am called upon as I always have over the years. I merely wish to give my gratitude in offerings as I have always practiced.” She murmurs in return, softer and smoother with respect of someone above her senses despite the slight lilt of Greek in her tongue even after so many decades away from her motherlands. She didn’t speak loud, but it wasn’t a whisper, it was spoken with a touch of reverence but not obsessively so- just respectful of a devoted person to there god. “But as it seems I have gained your attention once more.. is the sight of my offerings pleasing? Or is there more to this visit.. do you wish to make use of your humble oracle?” She asks, not demanding just.. wanting to understand.

this is just like that hallmark movie we watched.

can you stop quoting that horrible hallmark movie?

i am never watching a movie with you again.

come kiss me under the mistletoe.

i didn't realize it was going to be this cold. maybe i should go grab my jacket.

how do you plan on celebrating the new year?

have you ever made a snow angel?

well, don't you look festive!

i already bought your present this year.

could you help me hang this? i can't reach.

maybe we should turn the lights down low.

i'm really not a fan of the colder months.

i might need your help this year.

will you stay up with me to watch the ball drop?

that's not how we celebrate where i'm from.

i'll teach you all the family traditions.

we're getting everyone together for a big dinner!

how much time did you take off from work?

you sound congested. are you coming down with something?

that's the worst snowman i have ever seen.

i'm making hot cocoa. you want one?

i think we just lost power.

oh no. you are not getting me sick.

that's the ugliest sweater i have ever seen.

there's nothing to celebrate.

your singing is atrocious.

make that your new year's resolution.

come sit with me? it's nice and warm over here.

how does the song go? the weather outside is frightful...

the holidays were never very happy for me.

can we just plan for a night in? just the two of us?

i don't do well at parties.

are you expecting a white christmas this year?

behavior like that will put you on santa's naughty list.

if you put on another hallmark christmas movie, i will scream.

this is the season for giving, you know.

i could use some help scraping all this snow off my car.

the last time we went out for a walk in weather like this, you pushed me into a snowbank.

i still haven't forgiven you for hitting me in the head with a snowball.

it's supposed to get even colder tonight.

want to snuggle up by the fire with me?

this holiday means a lot to me.

i'd love to celebrate with you this year.

don't worry. i'll make all the food.

i'm having company over tonight.

your hands are freezing! let me warm them up.

i prefer sinatra's christmas songs, personally.

do you celebrate anything this time of year?

did your family have any holiday traditions growing up?

do you put up a real tree or a fake one?

we're going to my favorite chinese restaurant. it's basically tradition at this point.

i guess this means we're snowed in.

we should share a bed. you know. for warmth.

if you start getting cold, you could come sit by me.

personally, i understand where scrooge is coming from.

what's your favorite movie to watch this time of year?

we're going to cook one of my favorite meals.

the house smells incredible.

what are you doing new year's eve?

would you celebrate it? with me?

if the polar express showed up at your doorstep, would you hop on?

it's starting to snow.

while i finish this up, would you light the fire?

tell me about your holiday traditions.

is this colder than you're used to?

you didn't have to get me anything.

i thought we weren't exchanging gifts this year.

(soft light, tangled sheets, and the kind of silence that says everything)

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖

“You’re awake… I was wondering how long you’d let me watch you sleep.”

“Stay here a little longer. Just like this.”

“Your heartbeat feels calmer than it did last night.”

“You look different in the morning. Softer.”

“I could get used to waking up like this.”

“Don’t go yet… the bed gets cold without you.”

𝐖𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊… 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓

“…So, are we pretending that didn’t happen?”

“Be honest—do you regret it?”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen between us.”

“I don’t know what this means. Do you?”

“If you want space, say it. Don’t make me guess.”

“We crossed a line last night, didn’t we?”

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐒, 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 & 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒

“You should’ve heard yourself last night.”

“Keep looking at me like that and we’ll never leave this room.”

“If you keep touching me, round two is happening whether you like it or not.”

“Want me to remind you how you begged?”

“We really broke the bedframe, didn’t we?”

“I’m not done with you. Not even close.”

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏

“Last night felt… different.”

“I didn’t expect to fall asleep in your arms.”

“Tell me you don’t regret it.”

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

“Why does this feel like more than it should?”

“If I kiss you again… it’s because I mean it.”

𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐘 & 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃

“We really shouldn’t have done that.”

“Someone’s going to notice we’re both missing.”

“This is going to make everything harder.”

“We’re in trouble if anyone finds out.”

“I don’t know how to act around you now.”

“Last night changed something—whether we admit it or not.”

𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 & 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅-𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏

“You stole all the blankets again.”

“I made coffee… but don’t ask me how drinkable it is.”

“Shower with me? Save water?”

“You look cute when you’re confused and half-awake.”

“Breakfast or round two? Choose wisely.”

“Please tell me you remember last night… because I definitely do.”

Layla keeps cooking, the silence felt tight for a couple beats besides the sizzling of all the ingredients as she mixed them around, gaze on the pan as the dish began to come together. The warmth warming her skin barely, the colors rich golden with the red hues of the peppers mottled about.

Her jaw ticked faintly before murmuring “.. Fix.” It was an odd thought, a relationship previously so close shattered to what it was now. It wasn’t that the thought was distasteful, just.. fix would mean something was false. Which was true, there was lies, but the thought what good moments they had were false because of the secrets made something coil in her that was almost wynorrific if it wasn’t for the fact it was just a feeling based off the past.

She let her tongue rub her teeth as she kept using the spatula mix the food before setting it down as she let the food simmer untouched. Letting her head tilt down subtly as she said “.. I.. yeah, not right away- it’ll take time,” she chuckles faintly, wearily at her own detriment. “.. But I don’t think it wouldn’t hurt to try, again. And this is nice..” she conceded in an exhale.

It didn’t hurt to say, just made her heart pick up in pace- to step into something hesitant isn’t what she liked to do. Being independent and going back to.. something that had been shattered prior. But she did miss it.

And if it hurt her again.. well then she wouldn’t make that mistake again. No matter how badly it affects her.

Marc understood her, probably better than he understood most people in his life, on and off. Knew she hated the hesitant type mentality. Hated going into something that wasn't one-hundred percent guaranteed. Layla had always been like that, really. Always such a certain type of person. So the fact she was willing to do something with no certainty meant a lot. Meant Marc couldn't exactly fuck this up, if he wanted things to work. Which he did. He did want it to work out. Wanted it more than he thought he might be willing to openly admit at the moment, considering how close they were to it almost being normal again between them. Perhaps fix had been the wrong word, because it wasn't as if anything was broken. They just needed. . . time. They needed to work past the speed bump in the road, essentially. Something Marc was more willing to do than he might let on. Like now that the hope was there, now that the door was opened again he couldn't quite help himself. "Glad you're willin' to give my sorry ass another chance to get this right." He finally huffed, trying to go for something near joking, but also having some seriousness behind the way he spoke as well.

Layla quirked a small smile at his attempt at humor, though she tried to ease it down with a small clear of her throat. Her heart still pounding in her chest, right at her throat it felt.

Even in times like this, after years of unsettled tension and no closure till recently as to why their relationship had failed, a part of her was determined to not screw it up as well. A relationship was a two-way street and in this case the street across from her just had two houses and a vacated space from a deity sized pigeon.

"Well, I'm cooking for the both of us, am I not?" she counters in a huff of her own, continuing the attentive motions of making the curry- almost finished at this point, curry like this took up to about 20 minutes at best. Though she didn't plan to rush it, just like she wasn't going to rush them. "I don't think I would cook and patch you up if I didn't care, Marc."

Layla didn't wait necessarily after she spoke, though it didn't mean she wasn't not listening- quite opposite. She still was, just.. focused on the cooking, on the domestic task of making a meal, her gaze did go back to him for a moment before snapping back to task.

After previously setting the spatula down so the curry could simmer she went to grab silverware shuffling through his drawers before picking up the necessary amount and something to ladle the curry into a bowl. Placing it on the counter with a soft clink before changing objectives to search for his bowls. Grumbling about the oddness of where he had put his dishes under her breath. Though her eyes kept flickering back to the curry to make sure she didn't overcook it into a burnt mess.

Send Lore Drop! And I will talk about lore or a head canon regarding my muse.

❝ it's okay... it was just a nightmare. ❞

❝ it just seemed so real. ❞

❝ you were screaming. i had to wake you up. i had to. ❞

❝ i'm so tired of this. at this point i would rather just not sleep. ❞

❝ tell me about what happened. ❞

❝ it's okay. i'll stay with you as long as you need. ❞

❝ you need to see someone about this. this is not normal. ❞

❝ i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to wake you up. ❞

❝ wake up... hey! wake up! ❞

❝ it's okay. you're safe. ❞

❝ it was so scary. i couldn't move. i couldn't breathe. ❞

❝ hey. look at me. focus. just breathe. ❞

❝ how often does this happen to you? ❞

❝ i'm just so tired. i just want to sleep... ❞

❝ i can't stand to see this happening to you. ❞

❝ i hate seeing you like this. how can i help? ❞

❝ please let me help you. ❞

❝ i just woke up and it felt like there was this weight on my chest. ❞

❝ it wasn't even that scary, it just felt so real. ❞

❝ can you stay with me a minute? ❞

❝ i'm not going anywhere. you won't be alone tonight. ❞

❝ i'm sorry to wake you, i just... it happened again. ❞

❝ was it the same one again? ❞

❝ can we keep the light on? ❞

❝ it just felt like it was happening all over again. i can't shake it. ❞

❝ i really don't want to talk about it. can we just talk about something else? ❞

❝ don't touch me- please. please, i can't right now. ❞

❝ i swear... someone else was here. watching me. ❞

❝ i can't move. ❞

❝ you were hurt, and i... i couldn't get to you. it was awful. ❞

❝ do you want to talk about it? ❞

❝ i'm right here. you're safe. i won't let anything or anyone hurt you. ❞