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fig-newtons-official · 2 years

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Somewhere In America

So, to start, I haven’t finished the American Gods TV show yet, but I’ve read the book (which I can’t recommend enough, by the way.) As such, most of this will be based off of the book and will take place after the ending, so if you have not read it, be warned that there are major spoilers ahead.

Summoning:

@deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

Shadow knew better than to believe that Wednesday’s departure from this world was permanent. He’d read somewhere that Norse paganism was becoming popular in niche communities around the country, so he figured that it was only a matter of time before the resurgence would allow Odin to be reborn.

What was strange, however, was that Shadow didn’t find the idea of Wednesday coming back entirely unwelcome. Despite the outrageous con that he and Low-Key had tried to pull together, and all that he had put Shadow and Laura through, he couldn’t help but miss Wednesday a little.

As such, he couldn’t say that he was surprised to find or a man - or, at least what appeared to be a man at first glance - waiting for him when he came home. He was simply thankful that the man didn’t abduct him. He’d been abducted enough for one lifetime.

The young, uninvited guest seated on his couch grinned widely at him as if they were old friends, “Shadow Moon! You’re late.”

After all that had experienced in the past year, Shadow knew better than to question his guest. Such things had become normal to him. Granted, nothing strange has happened for a few months, but he knew that it was only a matter of time. He was due for some peculiarities. He replied, “I didn’t realize that we had an appointment.”

Still smiling, the man stated, “I’m not someone to be kept waiting.”

“Again, I was not aware that I was keeping you, mister…?” Shadow paused, waiting to see if the stranger would grace him with his name.

The visitor’s head tilted quizzically, “Names have power, Shadow. That’s why you haven’t given anyone yours, isn’t it?”

Shadow shrugged, “Mine isn’t really worth giving or keeping. I’ve just always been Shadow.”

The dead man pursed his lips, then replied, “Who I am isn’t important anymore. Why I’m here is much more pertinent.”

Shadow waited for him to continue. He didn’t. Instead, he stared at Shadow impatiently. Shadow sighed and obligatorily asked him why he was there.

The dead man smirked at him and tilted his head in a way that made him look very punchable, “Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?”

Shadow replied, “Wednesday is back. Or he’s trying to come back. I assume that if you’re here, he needs my help in order to do it.”

The dead man nodded, tilting his head to the other side, “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

Shadow shook his head and shrugged, using the motion to subtly look around the room. He thought that they were alone, but he couldn’t be sure.

“I guess you could say that.” Shadow said. “I know how hard it is to kill a god. But, as I’m sure you know already, I’m not working for him anymore.“

The dead man chuckled, “I thought that you’d say that.”

The visitor’s grin went from mocking to menacing. Shadow turned to leave only to bump into someone. Another dead man, though this one seemed to be at a less advanced stage of decay. His dark blond hair was braided in a complex pattern in jarring contrast to his modern clothes. Shadow wondered if the dead men had been Vikings. It would only make sense.

Under normal circumstances, Shadow knew that he had the advantage of being bigger than the man blocking his way, however, he knew fighting one of the Dead would be both foolish and futile.

The second dead man eyeballed him, waiting for him to make a move. Shadow didn’t. He knew that stepping back would be interpreted as a sign of weakness. He stared right back as he held his ground. The dead man placed one finger on Shadow’s chest, flinging Shadow backwards a few yards. He caught himself with his hands, then immediately raised them on reflex to show that he was being non-violent.

The dead man on the couch clucked his tongue, “Why so gentle, Hvitserk?”

The dead man named Hvitserk glanced away from Shadow for just a moment as he responded, “The Allfather wants him unharmed.”

The dead man on the couch rolled his eyes, “He never said ‘unharmed,’ he said ‘alive.’”

“I won’t be any more trouble.” Shadow interjected calmly. “I see that I don’t have a choice in this. I will return to my employer and do as he wishes.”

The dead man rose carefully from the couch with the help of his crutches. He slowly made his way over to Shadow, each movement practiced as if he had been having to get around like that for his whole life. Shadow noted that the ends of his crutches were pointed, like swords. They put holes in the floor. They were going to be a bitch to patch up, assuming that Shadow survived this ordeal.

“I just redid the floor.” Shadow grunted.

The dead man smirked at him, “I can tell. It looks like shit.”

“It’s what’s trendy. I’m trying to sell this place.”

“It’s a seller’s market.” Hvitserk chimed in. “You should be able to find someone desperate enough to buy this place, even with these shitty floors. Stop bitching and get a move on. Ivar, you first.”

Shadow noticed that Ivar didn’t appear to care that his companion had revealed his name. Perhaps he was less concerned with preserving his identity and more concerned with being a pain in the ass.

Ivar left the room first, followed by Shadow as Hvitserk took up the rear. Shadow was compliant all the way to the car, knowing that now would not be the time to try to make his move. He allowed himself to be guided into the back seat of a dark blue car with a model that he didn’t recognize. Ivar joined him not long after as Hvitserk got behind the wheel.

———————————————————————

Shadow had never given any thought to what kind of music modern day Vikings would be interested in, but never in a million years did he think it would be Kesha.

Or, more accurately, that’s what Hvitserk seemed to like. Ivar kept glowering at the driver’s seat, as if trying to will his companion to toss the CD out of the window. It wasn’t working.

Shadow pulled a coin from the air. It was a trick taught to him by the most unluckiest leprechaun. Mad Sweeney was another unfortunate victim of Wednesday and Low-Key’s scam. He’d been left to die in the snow, like he was nothing. And here Shadow was, about to rejoin his murderer. His wife’s murderer.

Shadow sighed, keeping his anger under control as he focused on his coin trick. From the corner of his eye, he could see Ivar studying him.

He opened his left hand, showing that the coin wasn’t there, then opened his right; the coin appeared to fall from the ceiling and into Shadow’s outstretched fingers.

“Impressive.” Ivar said, sounding unimpressed.

Shadow shrugged wryly and placed the coin in his pocket. He was used to performing for a tough crowd.

Ivar’s eyes narrowed towards the front seat and he leaned forward to tap his companion in the shoulder, “Hvitserk, can you please turn that down? I’d like to speak with our guest for a moment and I can’t do that over… whatever this is.”

Hvitserk turned halfway and stated in a serious tone, “The party don’t start ‘til I walk in.”

Ivar’s soul appeared to leave his body. As Hvitserk turned back towards the road, Shadow could see an impish grin pulling the corners of his mouth in the rear view mirror. He did end up turning the music down, thankfully.

Ivar sighed heavily, rubbed his eyes in irritation, then smiled wryly at Shadow, “I had something I wanted to ask you, but unfortunately, I’ve lost my train of thought completely, I’ll open it up to you. Is there anything you want to know before we reach our destination?”

Shadow didn’t trust this. He was not accustomed to anyone offering to give him any information that he requested. It had to be some sort of a trick. He decided that for now, it was best to play along.

“Where is our destination? It wouldn’t be the tree I hung myself from to stand vigil over Wednesday, would it?”

Ivar’s disinterested expression did not change as he answered, “It might be.”

“The idea is that I’m going to sacrifice myself for him again, isn’t it?”

Ivar shrugged one shoulder, “That’s the idea.”

Shadow pressed his lips together into a tight line and glanced out the window into the grey sky.

Hold on… the sky. Could he do it again? Could he make it snow again? He hadn’t tried since he and Wednesday had parted ways. He hadn’t had reason to until now. It didn’t feel right to use the gifts Wednesday had passed onto him for trivial matters. When Shadow had made it snow back during their little bank robbery, it had given him a horrific hangover, but he supposed that a splitting headache was better than his alternative. He had been willing to die for Wednesday once before, but that time had since passed.

Shadow didn’t know if snow would be enough to stop the car from reaching its destination. He also didn’t have the supplies to survive in the cold while in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by miles upon miles of corn. The last time that he’d been in danger of freezing to death, Laura had been there for him. She couldn’t be there for him anymore.

Shadow began to picture torrential rain. In his mind’s eye, fat drops spewed from the clouds, flooding the roads, dowsing all nearby. It was difficult to see as the heavy drops pelted the windshield. As the imaginary rain continued, backroads became too submerged with water to be driven upon. Most of them had to be closed due to safety concerns.

Ivar interrupted his thoughts, “Oh! I remember what I wanted to ask earlier. I was curious if you knew the whereabouts of the spear. The one your wife fashioned from the World Tree.”

Truthfully, Shadow hadn’t seen it since the day that the war between the old and the new gods was supposed to take place. He knew that Low-Key had intended to throw it in Odin’s name. One of the other gods might’ve taken it. Perhaps Laura took it with her to her final resting place. He wasn’t sure. What he truly cared about was the rain. His temple had begun to throb; he hoped that the little he’d been able to imagine would be enough to manifest the storm that he needed,

Shadow shook his head. “I haven’t seen it since the battle. Sorry.”

Ivar shrugged again. Uncomfortable silence followed.

Hvitserk glanced at them in the mirror, “If you two are done, would you mind if I turn the music back up?”

Ivar quickly replied, “No, we’re still talking. Aren’t we, Shadow?”

“Yes, we are.” Shadow agreed. He tried to think of something else to say. The first inquiry to pop into his head was: “So, are you two gods as well?”

Ivar began to laugh. Hvitserk sighed loudly from the front seat and muttered, “Don’t get him started.”

“Quiet up there!” Ivar snapped, his tone bordering being both playful and exasperated. “I used to think I was a god. The idea of being divine sounds far more appealing than being a cripple, doesn’t it? Don’t answer. Of course it does. Especially when the idea comes whispered from the lips of the first beautiful woman to see you as anything other than a monster.

“Naturally, the truth was far less flattering. She wanted something that only I could give her, and it wasn’t love. She said whatever she had to in order to get it. She wanted to be powerful, more than anything. Though, in hindsight, I can’t say I blame her for that: she had been a slave. Being a queen must’ve been her dream come true. She ended up fucking another man behind my back and helping my enemies drive me out of my own kingdom. But you know what that’s like, don’t you, Shadow? What was her nickname for you again? Puppy?”

Despite the harsh sting that Shadow felt in his heart, he calmly responded, “You don’t know her. Laura wasn’t a perfect wife, sure, but she did care about me in her own way.”

Ivar sneered at him, “Which is why she let you take the jail time for her?”

“Wouldn’t have happened if your boss hadn’t interfered. You know that.”

“Yes, that’s true. But his interference wouldn’t have worked if he couldn’t rely on Laura to throw her little Puppy to the wolves.” Ivar responded, tilting his head in that obnoxious way that appeared to be a regular gesture for him.

Shadow exhaled shortly, keeping his composure, “She wanted to turn herself in, but I wouldn’t let her.”

“Oh, was she? How noble! Or is that what she told you to keep you out of her way so that she could fuck your best friend in peace?”

It took substantial fortitude, but Shadow managed to keep his cool as he gently retorted, “Again, she wasn’t perfect, but as far as I’m concerned, she has more than redeemed herself. She saved my life a bunch. There’s more to her than you think.”

Ivar rolled his eyes, “Spoken like a lovesick fool. I would know.”

Shadow opened his mouth to respond, but decided that it was better to let this particular conversation come to an end. He had nothing to prove to this dead asshole. What truly mattered was that he appreciated Laura for who she was and in the end, it seemed that she had learned to do the same for him. He still wasn’t sure that she loved him as much as he had loved her, but she was the reason why he was still breathing. That had to count for something.

Shadow’s thoughts were interrupted by Hvitserk exclaiming, “Well, shit.”

He looked up to see they were heading into what appeared to be a grey wall. Once they reached the wall, it sounded as if B.B.s were hitting the car from all sides.

The storm had come.

The wipers began to squeak desperately against the windshield, cranked up to the highest setting, but to no avail. The sudden darkness of the sky and the heavy rain made it almost impossible to see. Shadow felt the car begin to hydroplane a bit as it slowed down.

As Hvitserk tried to stop the car from spinning out, he snapped, “Where the fuck did this rain come from?!”

Shadow could feel Ivar’s accusing eyes boring into his skin.

Shadow held a hand up helplessly in a shrug and said, “Welcome to the Midwest.”

Neither of the dead Vikings responded. He could tell that Ivar definitely wasn’t convinced by his half-assed explanation. Eventually, Hvitserk got the car back on the road. Afterwards, he couldn’t get the car to go above 20 miles per hour without losing traction. They still couldn’t see.

Hvitserk said over his shoulder, “We might have to pull off somewhere.”

Ivar shot Shadow a dirty look and protested, “No. We don’t have much farther to go.”

“Ivar, I can’t see shit. I can’t get go any faster than this. I can’t imagine that it’ll be this steady for long, so why don’t we just wait it out for a few minutes?”

Ivar turned to Shadow and stated with a frightening calmness to his voice, “You’re going to stop this right now.”

Shadow watched Ivar carefully, thinking through every possible way he could get out of this. He had one that could work. The car wasn’t moving that fast. There were cornfields nearby, though there were some deep ditches here and there. The timing would have to be perfect. The car was locked, but thankfully, the locks didn’t disappear like in some cars. He would have to find an opportunity to pull it up.

“Stop what?” He replied, trying to sound clueless.

Still keeping that same threatening chill to his voice, Ivar answered, “You like to pretend to be stupid so that others will underestimate you. It won’t work with me. So I will tell you again: stop this.”

Shadow matched the dead man’s icy tone as he retorted, “Even if I try to stop it - which I never have before - it’ll take a while for it to work. It took a while for it to get here. You’re going to have to pull off anyway, unless you want to wrap this thing around a telephone pole.”

Ivar pondered for a moment, then, unexpectedly he chuckled. Shadow didn’t like the sound of it. His hair stood on end and his heart beat faster, his body preparing to fight back.

The Viking grinned cruelly at him and said, “I dedicate this death to Odin.”

“Ivar, NO!” Hvitserk shouted.

Shadow moved just as Ivar’s fist broke the window behind him. He was just about to counter when both of them were thrown into the backs of the seats in front of them. The car was hydroplaning again as Hvitserk braked hard.

Water poured through the open window, drenching Shadow. He pushed himself back just as Ivar went for him again. The car jerked to the side, launching Ivar into Shadow’s lap. Shadow scrambled to try to get onto the other side of the seat, acutely aware of how little room he had to avoid the dead man.

The car veered off the road completely as Ivar seized him by the collar, throwing them again, leaving Ivar holding a handful of torn fabric as Shadow’s old, paint-stained shirt was torn. He had been dressed to do more home repairs, not to fight for his life.

They bumped and skidded through one of the nearby corn fields for what felt like an hour, but in reality was only a few seconds. Hvitserk was finally able to get some traction and brought the vehicle to a rough stop. He immediately unlocked the door, giving Shadow an opportunity to get away from Ivar.

He threw it open and stumbled out, barely evading the dead man’s grasp. The driver’s side door flew open immediately afterwards as Hvitserk raced after him. Shadow had a hard time getting his feet under him thanks to the ungraceful exit, but managed to get his balance, dashing into the towering ears of corn.

He heard Ivar yell something in a language he wasn’t familiar with along with the rustling of corn behind him as Hvitserk followed in pursuit. He regretted calling upon such heavy rain as he found himself sliding and getting stuck in the accruing mud. Thankfully, Hvitserk was struggling equally. Neither could put any distance on the other, thanks to the muck.

The wind carried Ivar’s taunting voice as he shouted, “Even if you get way now, you have nowhere to go, Shadow! You’ll be ours again soon enough!”

Shadow noted again that he was a fucking asshole and kept fighting through the mud. He blinked futilely to get some of the rain out of his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Hvitserk wasn’t far behind. The dead man’s eyes were locked intensely onto him, not even seeming to notice the water dripping into them.

Shadow kept going. He wasn’t sure where. He had no strategy other than to get away.

However, the muck had other ideas. Shadow stumbled into a particularly sticky patch of it and it took him too long to get his foot out of the mud, wasting precious seconds. He scrambled desperately to get out and moving again until he noticed Hvitserk out of the corner of his eye. Shit. He was caught.

Hvitserk offered his hand. Shadow stared at it as if he was presented with the most abhorrent object that he’d ever seen.

“Let me help you.” Hvitserk said, his tone oddly gentle.

Shadow took in a deep breath. He had no idea what more to do. He was fucked.

He shook his head slightly and spat, “What is this? You trying to make me think you’re on my side now?”

Hvitserk shook his head. “You’re right, I’m not on your side. But personally, I hold no ill will towards you.”

Shadow scoffed, “You have no ill will? Then let me go.”

“We can’t do that. You know that when the Allfather died, there was no one to tend to Valhalla? It’s gone without him. We need to go back. We can’t rest until we do. We will continue to rot and wander until there is nothing left unless we can get him back.”

Shadow’s brow furrowed and he shook his head again. “I’m sorry that I messed up the afterlife for you guys, but you have to understand: he’s not the real Odin. He’s the American Odin, brought here with the Vikings. There was nearly a Ragnarok already, and he wanted to be a one to cause it.”

Hvitserk smiled wryly. “And I’m just the American Hvitserk and Ivar is the American Ivar the Boneless. In some stories, my name is actually Halfdan. Depends on the translation. In other stories, Ivar can walk and the term ‘Boneless’ refers to his fluidity with a sword. It’s a matter of belief.

“We’re folklore, but we are still real. Yes, there were real men that we were derived from, and we’re probably very different from the Ivar and Hvitserk just as our Allfather is different from the Norse Allfather. But we’re still real. And we’re still suffering. We will continue to suffer until we can rest. Do you know what it feels like to rot from the inside out? Because I do.”

The dead man’s expression became horrified, shuddering as he addressed his own decay.

Shadow didn’t know what to say. Naturallly, he was aware that it wasn’t his fault that these men and possibly others were ejected from Valhalla. He hadn’t known.

He licked his lips and shook his head again. “I’d be willing to help you two, but not like this. Not with my death. I won’t sacrifice myself to Wednesday. There is always another way. We just have to look for it. If you can keep your friend from killing me, then I’ll try to get you two back where you belong. That sound alright?”

Hvitserk deliberated for a second, then nodded. “Ivar will be hard to convince.”

“I can be persuasive when I want to be. I learned from the best.”

He let Hvitserk help him out of the muck. They began to make their way back to the car, Hviyserk keeping nearby to make sure that Shadow didn’t try to make another break for it.

“You want to know something, Shadow?”

“Hm?”

Hvitserk smiled again, this time it looked genuine. “Wednesday misses you, too.”

#american gods #Vikings #I think this is just going to be a one shot #American gods x vikings #shadow moon #ivar the boneless #hvitserk ragnarsson #I couldn’t think of a title (again) lol #idk #I hope this is okay

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komotionlessqueenmm · 1 year

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PART ONE

Okay so this is a list of my headcanon/preferences, with links leading to each post. I give a basic summary of the headcanon/preference, then what fandom it belongs to, and who from said fandom is involved. Plus whether or not it was requested, just because.

1.) You ask if you can peg them. (X)

• It (Movie 2017)

• The Bowers gang.

(NOT REQUESTED)

2.)They react to the phrase "Fuck me running." (X)

• Vikings (TV series 2013)

• Ragnar, Rollo, Harald, Halfdan, Ivar, Björn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Alfred.

(NOT REQUESTED)

3.) They react to you telling them you're allergic to bullshit. (X)

• Vikings (TV series 2013)

• Ragnar, Rollo, Harald, Halfdan, Ivar, Björn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Alfred.

(NOT REQUESTED)

4.) You ask if you can peg them. (X)

• Horror movies addition.

• Dr. Herbert West (Re-animator 1985), Dr. Daniel Schreber (Dark City 1998), Ash Williams (Evil Dead 1981), Stu Macher (Scream 1996), Bo Sinclair (Wax Museum 2005), Eric Draven (The Crow 1994), Otis Driftwood (House of a Thousand Corpses 2003), Djinn (Wishmaster 1997), Josh Lambert (Insidious 2010).

(NOT REQUESTED)

5.) How do they feel about you being more badass than them? (X)

• Assassins Creed (Video game series)

• Altaïr Ibn-LaʼAhad, Ezio Auditore da Firenze, Connor Kenway, Edward Kenway, Jacob Frye, Bayek, Desmond Miles.

(NOT REQUESTED)

6.) They react to you telling them to bruise your esophagus. (X)

• American Gods (TV series 2017)

• Mad Sweeny, Shadow Moon, Mr. World, Technical Boy, Low-Key Lyesmith.

(NOT REQUESTED)

7.) They react to you telling them "I wanna choke on your dick until I pass out." PART ONE (X) PART TWO (X)

• Miscellaneous fandom's

• DIDN'T WANNA LIST THEM ALL, JUST LOOK INTO THEM YOURSELF LOL. (ALL AND ALL THERE ARE 14 PEOPLE)

(NOT REQUESTED)

8.) They develop a mommy kink, & along with a bit of a lactation kink, because of how busty you are. (X)

• It (Movie 2017)

• The Bowers gang

(NOT REQUESTED)

9.) You let them design your next tattoo. (X)

• The Lost Boys (Movie 1987)

• David, Marko, Paul, Dwayne.

(NOT REQUESTED)

UNLISTED : How would each of the bowers gang react if the other members walked in while they’re being pegged/fingered/eaten out. (X)

• It (Movies 2017)

• Bowers gang

(REQUESTED)

10.) The basics of their yandere obsession with you. (X)

• Type O Negative (Band)

• Peter Steele.

(NOT REQUESTED)

11.) Basic relationship headcanons. (X)

• The Black Phone (Movie 2021) crossed with Stranger Things (TV series 2016)

• Vance Hopper.

(NOT REQUESTED)

12.) The basics of their yandere obsession with you. (X)

• Star Wars (Solo triplets)

• Kylo Ren, Ben Solo, Matt Solo.

(NOT REQUESTED)

13.) How would magni and modi handle their child being named Thor’s successor? (X)