#She's protecting midgard AND her husband

[hereforreadandwrite]

Chapter Four

Masterlist

You haven't been back to Sindri's house since Tire was liberated. You didn't want to face him. Thinking about this man always made you uncomfortable and tugged at your scars. You placed your hand against your shoulder. You didn't like it. You sighed, running your hands over your face. Have the Norns decided to challenge you? If so, they were really cruel to you. Although they told you once, they were just spectators of the spectacle that the Aesir Gods and mortals gave them.

So that was your life. A spectacle of tragedy that entertained the Norns.

“What a shitty life,” you muttered, slamming your knife into the belly of the deer you hunted.

You opened the poor beast's belly, removing its organs so you could harvest the meat. You were going to be able to last a few weeks with that. You froze as you felt a divine and threatening presence. You groaned as you approached the bucket full of water to clean your hands. You looked closely at your hands soaking in blood. The last time you had this much blood on your hands was when you took out your anger on a troll who had broken into the Valkyrie council. The creature didn't stand a chance against your rage and sadness. You remembered being covered in his blood from head to toe. You didn't get any satisfaction from this confrontation. You dipped your hands in the cold water, removing the blood from your hands.

You couldn't help but feel uncomfortable thinking about what happened in Svartalfheim. The liberation of Tyr did not bring you the relief and joy you hoped for. You dreamed so much of his return and you were disappointed by the reaction and behavior of the one who was your husband. No, this man was not your husband. Your husband was dead when he left your home for Asgard.

You grabbed your knife, moving closer to your game when you felt your hair stand up at the base of your neck. You saw a strange shape crossing the sky at full speed.

Had you dreamed or had you just seen Vanadís?

You dropped your work, rushing to the Mystique door. You walked through the door. You knew where she was going. You had heard the little boy talking about her with his father. If she was in such a hurry, that meant that Kratos and Atreus weren't far away. What could they have done to upset Vanadís? You passed the door arriving in front of a house. You heard the sound of weapons clashing when you heard Atreus screaming and bear howls. You rushed into the backyard to see Kratos holding back a grizzly bear.

"Atreus! You do not want this! Calm your mind. Control it!" he said holding the bear down. “She was our friend.”

Freya turned her back on the father and son. She was conflicted. Atreus returned to his human form. Kratos helped him up, asking if he was hurt. The Vanir Goddess felt rage invade her, her breathing accelerated. Freya screamed, turning to face Kratos. She used her Vanir magic, conjuring up a vine that wrapped itself around the rock next to the Spartan's head. The vine squeezed the rock until it exploded. Kratos protected Atreus from the flying stones. Freya faced them. Her rage was palpable. But she didn't always seem capable of killing someone. Was she still cursed or did she not have the courage?

"Maybe… for the moment… you're of no more use to me… alive," she said, putting away her sword.

Kratos stood up, grabbing Atreus' arm, forcing him to do the same. The Spartan ordered the teenager to return to Sindri's house. Which, obviously, Atreus didn't like. Not surprisingly, Sindri and Brok came out from behind a rock. You rolled your eyes as you saw Atreus' sidekick say they were taking him home and saw him bow to Freya. Kratos pushed Atreus towards the dwarves, telling them not to lose sight of him. You watched Sindri and the teenager pass not far from you. Atreus looked at you surprised to see you there, but Sindri made him understand that this was not the time to upset his father. The two headed towards the mystic gate, leaving Midgard. Something interesting seemed to have happened while you were gone. You returned your attention to the deities who were getting dangerously closer, sizing each other up with their eyes.

“What is it you want?” Kratos asked.

"I refuse to remain bound to this Realm. We travel to Vanaheim," Freya announced.

Vanaheim?

Wasn't that where Sköll and Hati were? Was it a Norn trick? But the dream you had. Did Tyr plan all this?

“(Y/N)?” Freya asked, looking at you in surprise.

You were brought out of your thoughts when you heard the Goddess. She was looking at you as if she had just seen a ghost. You looked at Kratos. The Spartan moved closer to your person, eyeing you severely.

"What are you doing here?"

"I saw a furious Goddess speeding past my house. Only Vanadís was in such a hurry. And it was only you she could fight," you said. while looking at Kratos. “You lost sight of your little boy again, didn’t you?”

“That’s none of your business,” he said, moving next to you.

"Of course. But your little one set something in motion. And there are some things I need to check out. I'm coming with it to Vanaheim. Your brother is still there right?" you asked, turning your attention back to Freya. “I have a few questions to ask him.”

"What do you want to know?" asked Kratos who was near Brok.

"I imagine you haven't been idle since… Tyr was freed. Am I wrong? I need to know what you found and what happened."

"For what?" asked Freya perplexed.

"Ragnarok is almost here. There are some things I need to know."

"Would you have a role to play during Ragnarok, daughter?" Mimir asked uneasily.

"I… I don't know. But in Vanaheim… there's one thing I have to see."

"What?" Kratos asked.

"I just need to go check something out. Without Tyr being around."

“You still don’t trust him?” asked Mimir.

"No."

“Tyr is alive?” asked Freya in surprise.

“Not really,” you replied, heading towards the mystical door. “This man is not Tyr.”

Freya gave Kratos a look that said they were going to have to discuss this. Brok finished opening the passage, allowing the group to travel to Vanaheim.

Vanaheim.

This Realm was a huge jungle, filled with dangerous vegetation that attacked any outsiders. The smell of humidity and plants invaded your nostrils. It was strange. The last time you came to this Realm was for Freya and Odin's wedding. Like everyone else, you had bitter memories of it. Everyone was angry with Freya and with Mimir. Freyr had caused a scandal during the ceremony.

"Oh no. Something's wrong," Freya said, snapping you out of your thoughts. "My spell. I can feel it slipping."

"Well. That's Fimbulvetr for ya!" Brok said.

"You don't understand. I'll be torn from the Realm."

“What can be done?” Kratos asked, looking at Freya who was muttering under her breath.

"Something I was hoping to avoid… Seems I have much choice."

Before everyone's eyes, Freya transformed into a hawk. Mimir asked her if she could circumvent Odin's spell from the beginning, to which the Goddess replied that she discovered it when they opened the passage between the realms. It was not a solution and this form was extremely restrictive for her. In this form, she couldn't fight.

The journey took place under Brok's stupid jokes and Mimir's answers. Kratos, Brok and you killed every plant that had become more aggressive with the humidity and creatures that emerged from the shadows to stop them.

Everything here was in ruins. Nothing has been rebuilt. Which saddened Freya.

Was it also surprising?

“Whare has everyone gone, I wonder…?” Mimir began, perplexed.

“They must have withdrawn. Hidden themselves out in the wilds, and covered their tracks with magic,” Freya replied. “No way of knowing how many are left, or how to reach them.”

“Aesir ran cockshod all over this place, huh?” Brok commented.

“You can thank Mimir for that,” Freya commented sarcastically.

“War with the Vanir was NEVER my idea!” exclaimed Mimir. “MY idea was brokering the marriage to end it!”

“A great success that was!”

“Like many of his ideas,” you said darkly.

"Darling. I assure you it was to protect you."

"Of course. Keep convincing yourself," you said with a chuckle.

"Enough! Let's keep moving," Kratos growled.

The rest of the trip was done in silence. The trio followed Freya through the Vanaheim jungle until Brok was caught by a trap that dragged him to an unknown location. You glanced at Kratos, who did the same. You and him were going to have to save Brok's blue butt. Kratos went first, telling you to be careful. You arrived in a deserted place. Brok hung in midair, grunting as he tried to free himself from the trap. Kratos told him to shut up. It was way too quiet.

"Now what do we have here? Ol' One-Eye send another God and to a little girl to do dirty work?"

You and Kratos turned towards a man who lit a torch, allowing you to see his face better. You recognized him as Freyr, Freya's brother.

“Thor too busy?”

"We do not serve Odin," Kratos said.

“No?” Freyr asked, moving closer. “Picked a dangerous place for sightseeing, then. Am I right?”

Freyr's men emerged from the shadows, surrounding the two coming. You made your sword appear, revealing your nightmarish form. You were ready to fight.

“This form and this sword,” Freyr said, eyeing you carefully. "Little Valkyrie. I never thought I'd see you again, kiddo."

“There are two of us, Freyr,” you said, getting into a fighting stance.

“Now, now,” said Mimir. "No need for threats."

"Oh. I know that voice…," Freyr said as Kratos unhooked Mimir from his belt so he could see him. "You know, I'd cut off your head… but it seems somebody beat me to it."

"Aye. Oh, quit watching, brother," the head replied.

"No, you're no brother of mine. You sold my sister to that… prick!"

“We brokered a peace!”

"Oh! Did you now? Where is it? Hmm? And where is my sister? Some dungeon in Asgard? Is she even alive? ANSWER ME!"

Freyr got too close to Mimir, Kratos pointed his ax at the Vanir God, making him understand that he was too close. Freyr laughed, backing away from the trap that held Brok. He took his weapon from his belt, saying that blood would flow. At that moment, Freya yelled for her brother to stop. She landed on a perch, looking down at Freyr who was looking at her perplexed.

"What is that? Why do you speak in her voice?" he asked without looking away from the hawk.

"It's me, Yngvi. There's no time to explain. Just listen. These person are in my service. I'm here to reclaim what's been taken from me."

"It's too late. You can't' undo what's been done," Freyr replied.

"I can. I will. Now let them pass."

Freya took off from her perch, leaving the camp. Freyr didn't take his eyes off her. He didn't seem to believe that his sister had returned to him. The Vanir God turned to the duo, asking if they served his sister. Kratos growled in response as you transformed back into your normal form, vanishing your sword. Freyr sneered, commenting that they were all serving her. He turned to Lunda, ordering her to free Brok from this trap. The dwarf brought her knife down on the rope, cutting it cleanly. Brok fell heavily to the ground. Kratos hooked Mimir back onto his belt. You approached Brok, helping him up while Kratos approached Freyr.

“Nothing broken?” you asked, helping Brok up.

"I'm fine. I've seen worse than that fall," he said, turning to Lunda. "What's with leaving me hanging like that, ya crusty hag?"

"Oh can it, Blábr! C'mere…," she said before giving Brok a hug.

"Well! Found who I was lookin' for. Think I'm gonna stay and catch up," Brok said before following Lunda to her forge.

“Oh, are you now?”

“Do as you wish,” you replied, watching the two dwarves walk away.

You sighed, going to join the Elves of Alfheim and a man dressed in armor and armed with a huge sword. You took a seat on a log, glancing at Freyr's henchmen. The man named Birgir told you that they wanted the camp to remain secret. You replied that it would stay that way. You weren't going to leave camp anyway. You didn't care what Freya was looking for. You just had to know something.

"Are Sköll and Hati in Vanaheim?" you asked, looking at Birgir.

"Why this question?"

"I just need to know if they are here and if there was any strange phenomenon. Wasn't there a solar eclipse?"

“It’s been several centuries since there was one,” Beyla replied, catching your attention. "The wolves continue to chase the Sun and the Moon. They are fine."

"I need to go check on them. I need to make sure they're okay. Where is their lair?"

“Whose lair?”

You jumped, turning to Freyr who was holding Mimir. The Vanir God settled down next to you, giving you back what was left of your father. You looked at Mimir uncertainly. You reached out your hand, taking the rope to place him at your side.

“I have to go see Sköll and Hati,” you said, looking at Freyr.

"For what?"

"I have to make sure they're okay and that nothing bad happens to them."

Freyr looked at Birgir, Beyla and Byggvir. The camp leader sighed and stood up, gesturing for you to follow him to the table. You grabbed Mimir, following Freyr who showed you a map. He explained to you which path you had to take to get to the wolves' den. Freyr looked at you intently. You took off your cloak, putting it in a corner, so you could tie Mimir to your waist. Your wings. No doubt a move from Odin. He remembered you. After all, you have always been the pride of the Valkyries and Mimir. Everyone knew you. He had seen you as a child. He even played with you and learned some pranks to play on your father. Until Heimdal decided to burn it and leave Asgard.

“Why do you want to make sure the wolves are okay?” Freyr asked, folding the map.

"I know they were imprisoned by Odin. I just need to make sure nothing curious happens," you said, heading towards the portal.

“Wait!” Freyr exclaimed, following you. "Are you sure it's a good idea to go alone? How long has it been since you last came to Vanaheim?"

“Do you think I’m that weak, Freyr?” you asked, stopping near the gate.

"I didn't say you're weak, little Valkyrie. I'm just saying it's not a good idea to go alone. Fimbulvetr hasn't spared this Kingdom and there are many Einharjes who is swarming around."

"You don't have to worry. After the Valkyries, someone else taught me some techniques," you said as you passed through the portal. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

You moved away from Freyr's camp, deep into the jungle of Vanaheim. You took the path indicated by Freyr. According to him, Sköll and Hati were not far away. Mimir glanced at you a few times. Should he speak or not? You were still mad at him. Well Named.

"Honey… I know you don't want to talk to me, but I wish you would listen to me. Your mother and I… we really thought we were protecting you by sending you back to Midgard. We wanted to keep you away from Odin and his madness. But… it didn't go as we hoped. I don't know what he did or how he was able to find you, but… I'm sorry. I couldn't protect you the way I wanted. The day he imprisoned me and cursed the Valkyries… they brought us your wings. Daughter… please. I want you to know, I'm sorry. This pain will torment me all my life. The only thing that calms me is knowing that you are alive."

You stopped when you heard Mimir's apology. He asked you for forgiveness? He wanted you to forgive him for abandoning you? You unhooked your head from your belt, placing it on a rock. Mimir could see from your expression that you were not happy with this request. You turned your back on Mimir, taking a few steps away. You ran your hands over your face, running them through your hair. Did he dare to ask you for forgiveness? He dared to make such a request to you?

“You and Mother forced me to return to Midgard,” you began softly, turning to Mimir. “You and Mother never came to see me. Never! You and Mother failed me! You You gave up without the slightest remorse! I was all alone! I had no one… do you know what I did when I found out that mother was locked up? I protected her. I did the only one that you and her didn't do. I stayed with her and protected that damn breach at the risk of my life! So no! No. I could never forgive you. Or her ."

Mimir sighed, dejected. Everything you just told him was true. It was normal that you refused to forgive him. With their statue as Sigrun's Queen of the Valkyries and Odin's role as advisor, they never had time to make sure you were well established in Midgard. He had been busy making sure the marriage between Odin and Freya worked to ensure some semblance of peace. Which has always been a big joke.

“That’s what I told myself when he took my wings and in Tyr when he found me,” you said with a sigh.

“I… I beg your pardon?” Mimir asked, looking at you surprised.

You approached the rock where you had placed Mimir. You sat down in front of him, looking him over. Mimir was struck by your state. Since he was able to see you again, this was the first time he was able to see you properly. Your eyes were watery, you had dark bags under your eyes, that sparkle of mischief that you had as a child was gone. You have become a woman tired of this miserable life. You sighed, running your hands over your face.

"I obeyed. I returned to Midgard. I knew that you and mother wanted to protect me from Odin. But that wasn't enough. Do you want to know what he did? He pretended to be you. He took on your appearance and I let my guard down. That's how he managed to take my wings. When he did… I called. . You and mother… I called for someone to come and help me…"

“But no one came…”

“No… no one,” you said, sighing. "I found Mother's breach. I tried to ignore her, but… I kept coming back to her. I couldn't… get used to the idea to left her alone and helpless. Until Tyr found me and helped me. He trained me. He loved me. He saved me. I was happy again. But so was he, he abandoned me. That man at Sindri's… he's not my Tyr. He's not my husband."

"But… that doesn't explain why you want to see Sköll and Hati."

"I had a dream not long ago. I was with Tyr. We were going hunting and then… he disappeared. At that moment, a lightning bolt tore through the sky and everything became red. The moon was hiding the Sun. Then I saw two pairs of eyes and some growling noises and in the end, Tyr appeared and asked me to help him."

"It's strange. A premonitory dream perhaps," replied Mimir perplexed. "You helped Tyr, in a way, and we're going to see the wolves. But an eclipse? That's strange. I'll think about it, darling."

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at Mimir. “Father.”

"I'll make it up to you (Y/N). I promise."

"No offense. You're just a head," you said, getting up and picking up Mimir.

"Ah! It doesn't just take brawn to succeed, Darling. I thought I taught you that."

“Yes, but from time to time, you have to know how to hit.”

“Okay, you’re right about that.”

You let out a light laugh as you attached Mimir to your waist. You set off again, finally reaching the wolves' den. You saw the wolf Hati who was sleeping. Sköll was still chasing the Sun. You slowly approached Hati. The wolf's ears twitched as he heard you approach. You kneeled in front of him. Hati raised his head, looking at you perplexed. At first glance, he seemed fine. You sat down, sighing in relief. Maybe the dream you had was nothing more than a dream. You held out your hand towards him. The giant wolf brought its snout closer, sniffing a little before standing up. You did the same, following him to the edge of the cliff. Hati sat up, looking at you with his red eyes. He began to scream before chasing the moon, giving way to the Sun. Sköll will run towards you, landing next to you. The wolf looked at you perplexed as you offered him your hand. He sniffed for a few seconds before going to lie down in his den, waiting for his brother to finish his endless chase.

“They are fine,” Mimir said. "It seems your dream is just a dream, daughter."

“Maybe,” you said, looking at Sköll.

"It's been a while since you've been away from camp. It's better to go back before they worry."

“Yes.”

You looked at Sköll one last time before leaving their lair to return to Freyr's camp. You were relieved to know that the wolves were okay. So why did you have this dream? It did not make sense. No, you didn't have to think about it anymore. You walked through the camp gate to see Freya and Freyr hugging. Apparently you missed something. You moved closer to Kratos, unhooking Mimir from your waist to return him to the Spartan.

"You finished?" you asked, looking at Kratos.

“Yes.”

“What’s the verdict?” Mimir asked.

“She will help us,” Kratos replied, looking at Mimir. “Did everything go well?”

“Oh yes,” the head replied. "Very well even. Now what? What do we do?"

"We're going back," Kratos replied, hanging Mimir back on his belt. "And you?"

"I'm coming. I have to do something," you replied uncomfortably.

"You want to talk to him? Are you sure?" asked Mimir worried.

“Yes, you have to.”

"I'm ready to go," Freya announced, approaching the group. "(Y/N)? Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Yes. I have nothing more to do here."

"We're going back," Kratos said as he headed towards the entrance to the camp.

"Hey little Valkyrie! Come back and see us soon!" Freyr exclaimed.

"Yes, Freyr. I'll think about it," you replied before catching up with Freya and Kratos.

You liked Freyr, but he was always so loud and exhausting. At least it seemed that he and Freya had reconciled, and she and Kratos seemed to have put their differences aside. It was a good thing. At least, you hoped so. Now there was one thing left for you to do.

Talk to Tyr.

Just thinking about it made you uncomfortable. You felt your stomach twist and your hands become sweaty. It was so strange that you felt this way when thinking about your husband. You had to stay focused on your goal. But there was also another problem. According to Mimir, Atreus had disappeared for two days and he refused to say where he had been. This did not please the Spartan who announced that the boy was going to tell him everything and that there was nothing to add. Mimir looked at you, commenting that this was the famous Spartan diplomacy. But Freya's question sent shivers down your spine.

"Wait… did you say Odin invited him to Asgard and then he disappeared for two days?" asked the Goddess worriedly.

"What? Are you kidding?!" you exclaimed. "Odin invited the little boy to Asgard?!"

"Aye… but surely the lad's got more sense than to-" Mimir began before being cut off by Freya.

"Don't underestimate Odin's powers of persuasion. He filled my son's head with lies. Why wouldn't he do the same with yours?"

“It’s not just persuasion,” you said darkly. "If he feels that your little one is an obstacle to his plans, he will not hesitate to make him disappear. He has no limits."

“That too,” Freya replied softly, watching you struggle.

You preferred to ignore the look Freya gave you. You didn't need his pity. Not after all this time. You walked through the door, arriving in front of Sindri's house. Brok was arguing with Bitter Squirrel, one of Ratatoskr's alteregos. Kratos ignored the argument and entered the house. You followed the Spartan, with Brok and Freya. Kratos wasted no time entering his son's room. Sindri left the room, visibly upset. You went to sit at the table when Atreus came out of his room insulting his father. You heard Mimir exclaim that this was not how he was going to change his father's mind.

It looked bad.

"He doesn't have any faith in me! It's fine of he keeps secrets. It's fine is Mom did," exclaimed Atreus who came to sit at the table.

“It is NOT fine,” Kraots replied harshly as he followed his son. “Her secrets haunt every step of this path.”

"Oh, okay. So you don't believe in her anymore either?"

“His is not about your mother!” Kratos exclaimed, placing Mimir on the table. “What you have done is lie.”

“Wonder where I learned that?” the boy replied sarcastically.

“That’s quite enough!” exclaimed Mimir.

“Since when do you away take his side?” Atreus asked, looking at his angry head.

"Since he became the one making sense."

In the meantime, Tyr had approached the table. A pot full of stew in his hands.

"Look… I was only thinking about going to Odin. But I swear it's for a good reason…," explained the young man.

“There is no good reason to go to Odin,” Freya replied, approaching.

“He’ll only cloud your mind,” Tyr continued.

"But I'd be going for us. I gotta stop something bad from happening."

“Something bad did happen!” exclaimed Mimir, attracting the attention of the dwarves who approached in turn. "LOOK AT ME! At Freya. At Tyr. At (Y/N)! Odin did this to us!"

"What's got everyone caterwaulin' all a sudden?" Brok asked as he approached Atreus.

“Atreus wants to go Asgard,” Sindri replied.

"Asgard? Did he get kicked in the head or something?"

"Great. I guess everyone's against me now," Atreus growled, glaring at his father.

"You must choose who you are going to be," Kratos replied, approaching his son. "Are you going to continue to lie and keep things from me? Or are you my son?"

As he spoke, Kratos placed his hand on Atreus' shoulder. Hoping that his words finally reach him. But it didn't seem to have any impact on the boy. If anything, it seemed to upset him even more.

"Choose? I never get to choose. Just leave me alone."

Atreus wanted to walk away and end this discussion. But Kratos didn't think so. He grabbed the boy's arm, ordering him to listen. Atreus yelled at him to let go. He violently pushed Kratos away, but with his rage, he transformed into a bear. Freya rushed to Kratos, helping him up. Tyr had dropped the pot, grabbing your arm to pull you towards him. Unluckily for Sindri, Atreus was standing in front of him. The dwarf tried to reason with the boy. Without success. Atreus violently pushed him away with his paw before fleeing and breaking down the door of the house. He was running away. Kratos rushed to the door as Freya and Brok rushed to Sindri's side. You tried to break away from Tyr's hold, but he refused to let you go.

"He might come back," he said nervously.

"Let go of me!" you cried, pushing him away and watching him get annoyed. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

You quickly moved away from Tyr, approaching Sindri, Freya and Brok. According to the Goddess, there was nothing serious about the dwarf. Just scratches. Which was a relief in care. Your attention landed on the door. Kratos stood in the doorway. His fists were clenched and you seemed to see sparks flying. The Spartan slammed his fist against the doorway, making the house shake. You looked from Kratos, to Freya healing Sindri, to Brok who was cursing, and to Tyr who was standing nervously in the back of the room. You sighed, massaging your temples which were becoming sore.

And now what would happen?

Tag: @ladycrowsworld

[masterthespianduchovny]

KRATOS x FREYA DISSERTATION:

Whether or not it actually becomes canon, I can see Freya and Kratos ending up together.

Although I’m agreement with the noromos who believe that men and women can be friends, I do believe romance is a plausible path for Kratos and Freya despite him killing her son, their own traumas, and grief.

One of Kratos’ most defining character traits is that he doesn’t trust gods. Even in GoW (2018), he stresses to Atreus not to trust gods, which later included Freya. He’s angry because she omitted her true identity, which circumvented him avoiding her altogether thus establishing the beginning of a friendship and trust of sorts with her. And this is important on many levels:

1. Freya was at an advantage and Kratos was at massive disadvantage.

2. He got to know her to an extent without any presumption on her character and intent.

3. She got to know him to an extent without his guard up.

4. His instincts (and Atreus) opened himself up to trusting her.

We see that Kratos typically has a good read on situations and people, esp gods. So when Freya omitted the truth, he was put in the situation to trust a god again, which angered him. It wasn’t a true deception, but the principle of the matter. This key moment in the relationship actually sets up so much between them because, despite Freya not being forthcoming about her identity, she did nothing wrong and Kratos was the one in wrong. This later prompts Kratos to reflect on his behavior when Freya helps saves Atreus’ life even though she didn’t have to. When he apologizes, she says this,

“No. You were right to distrust the word of a god. No need to explain. Not to me. Not for that.”

At this point in time, Kratos knew that she spoke from experience. She wasn’t blowing smoke up his ass or trying to make him feel better. She got his distrust on a visceral level because she went through SEVERAL betrayals of her own at the hands of a god who was her husband at that!

Even though he’s heard stories about Freya’s marriage to Odin and the events leading up to it, why she agreed to it, and why she stayed, hearing her wave off his apology and understanding the context made him see her in a new light. She wasn’t making him apologize for something that evolved into a survival technique because she learned all too well herself. He hears the sadness and melancholy in her voice—the pain that sticks with her.

Throughout the story, Freya helped him without asking anything in return. Her assistance and friendship was genuine. But the one thing she did ask, Kratos didn’t honor.

This is all important because moments prior to Baldur and Freya’s reunion, he and Atreus weren’t even sure they could trust her. Then, when Kratos saw their interaction: Baldur’s eagerness to harm Freya and her willingness to accept said harm even if it meant death. He kept trying to mind his business, but ultimately deduced that Freya didn’t deserve that fate.

In a sense, he’d been in her position before. He understood what it was like to make decisions you can’t undo. To hate and punish yourself. To want to protect your child at all cost, but at what cost? Hasn’t she suffered enough? Why did this have to end in her death, esp when Odin was responsible for most of her suffering. Baldur was the only bright spot for her in a toxic and abusive marriage—her judgment was clouded due to all her pain, suffering, and losses.

Because Odin stripped her of almost everything minus life…piece by piece. She can’t leave home—bound to Midgard. She literally can’t defend herself, despite being a skilled warrior, which she prided herself on. Despite her circumstance, then and now, according to Mimir’s stories—some of which he experienced himself—she was a largely good and kind person and god. Unlike, the gods in Greece and even her former husband. Only to be robbed of her agency and safety.

Even though in the beginning of the friendship, Freya is the one with the upper hand, by the end of it, Kratos is the one with the upper hand. Freya knew he was a god, but she didn’t know his backstory. Kratos knew all about her in a sense, which is why he’s able to be compassionate and understand that she’s punishing herself for more than Baldur’s fate.

Despite only knowing her for a short time, from the moment he decides she doesn’t deserve to die and was dealt a shit hand during her marriage and made a tragic decision that led to “losing” her son, he basically vows to never allow harm to come to her. He considers her his friend even though she hates him after he killed her child. Even though she has vowed and tried on many occasions to murder him, he refuses to see her anything but as a friend who is experiencing extreme guilt and grief.

Interestingly enough, we see Freya’s perspective shift even before she finds out about Calliope. Kratos saves her life from Atreus and says, “she was our friend.” Freya was determined to see Kratos as this evil, selfish guy and, even in that moment, she sees the gentler, compassionate side of him. It frustrates and upsets her, but she changes course because it’s all too much for her at that moment. She also knows that while her present misery is due to Kratos’ actions, he’s not the true reason behind her misery and unhappiness.

In addition to finding out about Calliope and the circumstances leading up to her (and her mother’s) death’s, she’s also being worn down by Kratos and his reason. This is a man who’s traveled down the road she is on. He’s been there. And the thing that she’s promising herself will bring her peace so to speak, she know isn’t true. The more Kratos refuses to let it go, the angrier she gets. She’s largely had no control over her life for just about a century and the one thing she does have control over (thinking she could kill kratos) is something she deep down knows won’t settle her spirit. Once she actually gets her freedom with the assistance of Kratos, it’s then she admits to herself that she can’t kill him, despite her urge to. And she can’t forgive him because he took away her child—he took away her choice: her life so that Baldur could live.

In the journey, something else is established OR, to be exact, it’s re-established: their trust in one another.

Not only has Freya notice Kratos’ consistency in being honest with her and respecting her decisions, he’s a man of his word. He also allows himself to be vulnerable with and around her. That’s not the same Kratos she met years prior or the one who was angry after he found out that she omitted her godhood to him. Despite the things she’s said and what she’s tried to do on many occasions, he’s always respected her and never treated her with anything less than that. He is not Odin. The things her ex husband punished her for and exploited are things Kratos’ values about her and still sees her as even when she was on her worst behavior.

Admittedly, people can still be friends with someone (again) who wronged them. However, I find it difficult to believe that Freya can be friends with Kratos again even though he caused her immense grief if she hasn’t fully forgiven him. Grief that led her to trying to murder him on many occasions and directly put his child in danger who she very well knows Kratos doesn’t fuck around about.

If Kratos can not only forgive her for that, but not hold it against her, why can’t she eventually forgive him for killing Baldur esp when it was to save her life?

I’d argue we see that after Freya is no longer bound to Midgard. Throughout their journey, we see that she is largely by his side even when she doesn’t have to be. She telling him personal things and being vulnerable with him. I believe she still has ire reserved for Mimir that she doesn’t for Kratos. She genuinely wants him to fight alongside her against Odin and not just because he’s a great warrior and the god of war, but because she trusts him as well. Then asks him to be the general of the army going into war. After the win, she agrees to rebuild the kingdom(s) with him. I find it hard to believe she hasn’t forgiven him for Baldur when she voluntarily spends most of her time with him and is making massive major plans with him. The fact that Kratos even asked her says a lot and she didn’t hesitate in her answer.

Now, there are those who say it’s too soon for Kratos to get back into a relationship or he wouldn’t, which I disagree with. It’s been 3+ years since Faye passed. Although he’s still grieving her, that doesn’t mean he can’t enter into a new relationship. You don’t stop grieving a loved one or spouse just because you’re dating again. Grief sticks with you and it’s ongoing. After the passing of his first wife, I don’t think he actively dated or sought out women romantically. Keep in mind, Faye flat out said they fought when they first met, I believe. It took them time to get where they were. I don’t think Kratos even entertained dating her until some (significant) time passed, which she may have facilitated him properly asking her out or straight up marriage—whatever it is they did in those days. So the idea that that’s not an option for him and Freya doesn’t pass the sniff test imo.

I don’t believe either Freya or Kratos will suddenly develop romantic feelings or even get together right away, but a final, gradual shift in their relationship happens. When they realize this, it’s something they fully embrace, but step carefully into.

It would likely be due to familiarity and spending so much time together. Again, they will be rebuilding a kingdom or kingdoms together. He likely will help her around her place and with her different concoctions. She’d likely cook for him even though he can cook for himself and openly admit to enjoy sending time with him. Eventually, they’d be spending most of their time together, which is how they’d prefer it. You know Mimir’s nosey ass would most likely say something to Kratos, but not too much because he wouldn’t want to incur Freya’s wrath.

I can see them having though hard conversations about their children and forgiving themselves for their roles in said children’s demise as much as they can. I can see them fully forgiving each other for the transgression committed against one another because…look at all they’ve been through together. Not only did they fight side by side during Ragnarok, he kept his promise to her about never taking her decision away from her again.

These are two people who get each other in a way that no one else does.

We get the callback after Freya’s no longer bound to Midgard—Kratos doesn’t entertain Freya apologizing about “everything that happened between us” and says, “No need to explain. Not to me. Not for that.”

Like, come on!

There is this gentleness and vulnerability they express to me another that doesn’t exist with anyone else outside of their kids.

As Dana Scully once said, “the best relationships are often rooted in friendships.”

Freya was experiencing so many feelings at once and even though it’ll always hurt to lose Baldur, she’ll realize that she’s forgiven Kratos. He was put in an impossible situation and made the best choice born of compassion.

In time Freya would come to see, that not only is Kratos everything Odin wasn’t, he meets her needs in a way that she never realized. That he’s forgiving and kind and supportive and her rock. Could she get that from someone else? Sure. Could she get that from someone who gets her in a way that Kratos gets her, which is what allowed her to be vulnerable around him more than she was around others, most likely no.

But also, Freya is Kratos’ type: Fierce, tough, compassionate, bold, independent, nurturing (as in caring for others), etc. She is honest, direct, and says how she feels. He doesn’t need someone who sees him as a clean slate, he needs someone who knows him and embraces that part of him because it’s him. Two people who carried immense pain found one another and, inadvertently, helped each other heal and grow.

They have these commonalities in spades.

That in and of itself doesn’t mean they should be together, however, imo, tension has always existed between them even before Kratos found out she was a god. It’s been this undercurrent for the entirety of them knowing one another. It wasn’t sexual, but it wasn’t platonic either, however, I believe it’ll manifest into romance—this is, of course, apart from the driving tension at the end of the first game and into the beginning of the second game.

“Open your heart to the world as you have opened it to me, and you will find every reason to keep living in it.” -Faye

You have a man/god that is first introduced to us as throwing himself off a cliff because he can no longer live with his nightmares. A man/god who later tries to take his own life on another occasion or two after surviving his first ordeal. Who tells his second wife that he doesn’t want to live in a world without her and later prepares his son to live in the world without him because he believes he’s going to die. Only for him to look forward to rebuilding society with Freya, the person he’s opened his heart up to the most since this new journey began. Freya is almost always treated as a partner and an equal.

Kratos allowed Freya and Atreus to get close, despite his protectiveness of him. Noticeably, they have a mother-son-esque dynamic by the end of the game. We have seen Atreus befriend adults and it’s treated as a friendship. Despite initially referring to her as a friend in the beginning, but the end she definitely serves as a mother like figure, which is in no way an insult to Faye nor is she replacing her. Atreus literally tells Mimir he’s a second father. So this shows us there’s nothing wrong with having multiple parental figures, living or dead. Typically when a piece of media is setting up a woman as a mother like figure to a child, romance is brewing on the horizon.

Lastly, in both games, Freya is deeply tied to the main narratives and is involved in the final battles in some way. In the first game, she’s one of the first people we meet and a selfless companion. In the second game, we meet her first and she’s an enemy. In the end of the first game, she’s become his enemy. By the end of the second game, she’s his partner and ally in rebuilding the kingdom. While the games focused on the things they have in common, their connection, and vulnerability with one another, I’d argue it doesn’t stress the friendship angle. They are friends, but the way these two are compared and contrasted and positioned against one another, it feels like a romantic relationship is possible being set up.

I also find her line to Kratos about having another child if she had the opportunity to have one again interesting. Although I don’t think she’s hinting anything to him, why she is telling the man who killed her child, casually, that she wants another child? Why not her brother or the shapeshifter or Sigrun?

[heimdallsram]

 ━━━━ masterlist. soundtrack. archive of our own. taglist.

title: perennial

pairing: heimdall x female! goddess! reader

"You were a goddess of oaths and vows. It was only fitting that Odin would

bind you to his service in only the most ironic way that he knew how: marriage."

this fanfiction contains the following: domestic violence, blood, gore, choking, violent sexual content, bad BDSM etiquette, non-consensual somnophilia, blood drinking, unhealthy relationships, and much more content that may be sensitive to some readers. reader discretion is advised.

*for inquiries about the taglist, please dm me and i will add you to it.

 Odin was a terrifying man. While he appeared the genteel, kindly older god with an inquisitive twinkle in his only good eye, he was anything but—to most, or all outside of Asgard, he was a monster who did not deserve his place. He was a manipulative man, a smart and narcissistic one that had driven the best of them into their early, shallow little graves before they were brought back again to serve as his Einherjar. He had exiled his wife, after all, sealed her existence to Midgard and corrupted the Valkyries that were loyal to her—twisted her own son’s heart to her, though she had a hand in that as well, cursing him with immortality and invulnerability as she did. Freya—Frigg, as she was known in Asgard—could not be blamed for wanting to protect her child. But not giving the same regard to Odin… she had sealed her fate more quickly that way, and for the good of all others, Odin had never succeeded in that particular spell.

 You supposed that was why he kept you around, at first. A goddess of oaths and agreements was detrimental to him if left unchecked. You held all of his hidden secrets, his deals, his vows with magics, his pacts, his promises, his wishes, in the palm of your hands each time he made one, sifting through the forbidden knowledge with a careful eye. Each time a marriage vow, or any other form of a promise, was created, you would know, and it would be made known to you the promises and agreements made in their specified vows; just like now, like today, as you bore witness to the violent, almost… bloody fight between man and wife.

 An insipid dalliance with a lover had stolen his wife’s heart from him, you recalled. The words shuttled through your mind painfully and quickly, like daggers of ice. With each vow broken—love, eternity, fidelity, faithfulness—you felt the bindings of their fates rapidly unwind like a loose spool of silken thread. Spin, spin, spin, and it was all falling apart before your eyes, through a magic window framed with wood and lit with warm candles.

 The woman cried as the man curled his fists into her hair and pulled. Her pleas did not reach his heart, for he had shielded it against her—against everything she stood for. You could not pity her for what she had done. Instead, even as she was brought to her knees and a leather belt lashed across her face, you felt fiercely proud of her for taking control of her happiness despite the pain it was now bringing her. Her husband, while feeling the betrayal keenly, was not faithful nor was he in any position to feel wronged, for he had committed the same crime and found himself innocent.

 When the breaking of the vows had made themselves known to you, you had risen from your bed in Odin’s grand hall, bundled yourself in warm furs and silks, and braved the chill night as it rose over you in an ill tide. Your leaving had not gone unnoticed; there had been several eyes upon you as you had made your way down the frozen, muddy path and to the home sequestered among many others. Munin, loyal creature that he was, had flown and followed and remained at your side upon the bench you now sat on, watching the events unfold as you knew they would.

 It was another version of foresight that the All-Father found… pleasing to have in his employ. It was the only way you could explain the way his mouth had twisted into that friendly, yet not so kind, smile when you had spoken to him of his broken fatherly vows to Thor—the ones he had unwittingly made after bringing a child into the world. Love, warmth, care; Thor had been denied them all. It had not even taken a teenage goddess, newly minted and born from the previous, to point that out.

 You could not do as Heimdall could and read thoughts and intent. You were not as the Norns were, able to pick through decisions and fate and weave together a predictable future. You did not even have the sooth saying abilities that the Giants had, long gone as they were. The vows and oaths spoke to you and you would obey; that was all that Odin knew. All he would ever know, for now; he had no need of the knowledge that you were both judge and executioner.

 “It’s kind of a cold night to be witnessing vows, isn’t it?” Odin was never obvious in his appearances with you. He was always quiet, always contemplative, desiring the upper hand always. Much like yourself, he had abandoned his thinner robes for more thickly lined ones; even his eye patch was lined with fur, perhaps to keep the aching loss of his eye safe from the cold. Perched on his shoulder was Huginn, tilting his head to and fro, not quite looking at you but through you. “When I was told you had left, I almost didn’t believe it.”

 It was a lie, of course, in lieu of acknowledging the way the woman’s husband had abandoned his wife on the floor to take a swig of bitter ale.

 Your answering smile was small. “Much as we are all slaves to fate, so am I to the oaths made between those slaves. They call and I must answer, you understand. Even in the cold of night.”

 “Sometimes your disrespect is refreshing,” Odin sighed lightly. To you, it almost sounded tired; as if speaking had simply exhausted him. “Not like Thor’s or Sif’s or… Hel, Frigg’s.”

 You kept painfully quiet at the mention of the former Queen’s name. Instead, your eyes remained trained on the window where you could see the husband come into view once more, ale on his lips and beard and his shirt abandoned. There was nothing you could do to hide the grimace as the man hit his wife so hard that she rolled on to her back, slammed her nose into the baseboard of their bed, and coughed blood. Beside you, Odin did not flinch.

 “Well, don’t take too long,” he said, finally, with a tone of amiability. He patted you on your shoulder like an old man might as if speaking to a good friend, Munin leaping into his arm and melding with his flesh. “Big things to do in the morning, little time to do it, you know.”

 You did not look away from the woman as she rose to her feet, fists raised and trembling. “Of course, All-Father.”

 He vanished into a flurry of black birds with golden eyes. You paid it no heed. You continued to watch as the woman began to fight back, little by little, inch by painstaking inch, until both she and her husband were bleeding, laughing lightly at each other, stroking each other’s bloodied hair and bruised cheeks.

 Only then did you rise to your feet, your cloak dragging in the mud and soiling the white fur as you approached the door to the warm, violence blessed home. You knocked on the door only once, knuckles white against the wood. You tucked your hands carefully against your stomach, folded neatly, and schooled your expression into something… other. Something placid and stern and knowing. Something only your powers could give you.

 Your feelings did not matter when it came to this. Could never matter, in the end.

 When the door opened, your stomach curled unpleasantly. They had made haphazard attempts to clean themselves up: streaked, wet blood here and there, hair pulled back tightly. The husband had thrown on a shirt; the wife had tied an apron around her neck to hide the belt lashes across her chest and ribs. A deep sigh threatened to escape your lungs. All slights had been made right between them, their smiles dimmed with confusion as they took you in: a stranger in the night, dressed in rich silks and fine furs, your hair pulled back into a severe tail at the nape of your neck.

 “I apologize for the lateness,” you began, your voice monotone and lifeless as you edged past the husband, past the door frame and into the home within. Blood stained the floor at your feet, mingled with ale and spit and other indiscernible bodily fluids. A stool sat in front of the hearth, an abandoned knitting lying helpless as it smoldered under the heat. In the corner, sleeping pitifully, was a baby, cocooned in warmth and shielded by a newly woven basket. You took in all of this with one sweep of your gaze, your heart pounding in your chest in a crude drum beat. “But you have broken your vows, and they called to me. I must obey.”

 It was always a little heart breaking to see the way their faces dropped when they realized who—what—you were. You never forgot how their eyebrows would sink low over their eyes, their mouths fall open and slack for just a moment before words and pleas bubbled from their lips, the way a wife might freeze or a husband may raise his sword to you. It was always the same variation of reactions, one never quite the same as another but similar in all respects, and you had come to expect them all at some point, when your guilt had failed to override the sense of duty you now held to yourself.

 Neither noticed as a breeze, sweet smelling and of sage and lavender, quietly closed the open door and flashed pale lilac. It would not open until dawn, just as the sun peered over the horizon, and the floorboards and fur rugs of the home had been soaked in more blood than had been shed by both husband and wife. In the corner, cooing innocently with a bundled sprig of mint and holly in its little fist, the baby awoke to brilliant, sparkling rubies dripping from the roof like mother’s milk.

 You would not be there when the surrounding inhabitants woke for their day and slowly noticed their neighbors were not outside as per usual with their child in tow. You would not be there as a comely old woman made her way into the house and gasped at the grisly sight before her. You would not be there as the child was scooped up and brought to safety, even though the threat was already over. You would not be there as the local carpenter tried, and failed, to scrape the rune burned over the headboard in shining lilac light off, not to disturb another family who may occupy the space.

 You were never there.

 Instead, you would shed your clothes upon your return, as nude as the day you had been born from the flesh of the former Var, and sit in the morning sun on your stool, unblinking and unseeing. You would bathe yourself and cleanse your skin of the blood you had shed, bundle your clothing for washing, and carefully weave your hair into something presentable. You would present yourself as if you had never claimed two souls in the night, as if you had nothing to do with the events at all—Odin would see to it if fate did not.

 You would drink, smile, and remain placid. Your place was secure. Odin needed you and you would keep going as you were, Freya’s parting words to you echoing in your mind like a plaintive wail.

 Never trust him.

 And you knew she had been right when your morning was interrupted by a servant carrying a letter, Sif right behind her, dressed in her immaculate blue gown and her hair like spun gold. She appeared apprehensive, not at your nudity as you accepted the letter but at your potential reaction. You could already feel the loom of oaths and vows spinning as the golden haired goddess shut the door behind her, parting the wax seal with your thumb and exposing the contents within.

 ‘[Name],

 It pains me to do this, but you leave me with no choice. You are to be bethrothed to Heimdall, in all ways that matter. I cannot trust you as you are now, you understand.’

 It was not signed, but it did not have to be. Your disrespect to Odin had gone on long enough, it seemed, and he could not tolerate it any longer. It was both a punishment and a leash, one shorter than he gave most. Thor had a longer leash than this, and his was studded with proverbial spikes and metaphorical shame. You had been expecting something like this to occur, but… Heimdall.

 You burned the letter over a candle at your bedside, watching the edges flicker and turn pitch. Odin might think he was clever, subjecting you to his most loyal dog and binding you to him in the way you thought worst, but you always had a plan, a card up your sleeve should you ever end up in one of his schemes as your Queen had done.

 Heimdall was an itch you could not scratch. A mystery you could not unravel. His only oaths were to Odin, his only promises to Odin; his loyalty was unmatched. But just like any dog, there would come a day where it would bite the hand that feeds it, and you would make sure it would come to pass one way or another.

 You made an oath that morning as the sun rose to its apex in the sky. And when it descended, heralding the arrival of Odin’s beloved hound and a night of festivities for the equinox, your mind was a shield and your mouth a blade.

 The moment Heimdall laid eyes on you, eyes shining and fuchsia and a burning shade of Bifrost as he tried and failed to read you, sitting quietly in a corner and entertaining the woeful drunken stupor of Baldur’s widow with your doubloon gold gaze and a tiny, sly smile on your face, you knew you had won.

 But that victory, you would soon come to find, would not come without a price.

| next.

[dailylogyn]

Valkyrie!Sigyn just makes so much sense!

Okay, now @jonquilclegane has really got me thinking heavily on Sigyn’s backstory in Norse Mythology as being a Valkyrie with their post (x) and honestly, the more I think about it, the more it just makes SO MUCH SENSE!

FACTS ON VALKYRIE THAT WE KNOW (x):

Valkyrie, in Norse Mythology, are mortal human women born of mortal human parents. It is not their origin, but their service to Odin, that bestows on the Valkyries certain supernatural powers.

Valkyries also have the ability to travel between the realms of living mortals on Midgard and Odin’s hall in Valhalla, carrying dead warriors from Midgard’s battlefields to Valhalla. And the Valkyries serve these dead heroes their drinks in the evening in Valhalla as well. ‘Valkyrie’, then, is a job rather than a species. But it’s a job with special perks.

It is not clear what is involved in a Valkyrie’s ‘hiring’, Brynhild’s story clearly reveals that a Valkyrie can be ‘fired’ for a cause. In her case, the ’cause’ of her firing is that she made the wrong king die in a battle, which meant that Odin did not get the man he wanted for Valhalla.

Based on some other stories, it also seems that getting married means a woman must quit her position as Valkyrie. And a marriage might even be used as a punishment for a disobedient Valkyrie, which is another part of the retribution against Brynhild in the Volsungs legends.

So Imagine Valkyrie!Sigyn:

We don’t know her origins or backstory, so what if the reason for this is because she was a mortal human woman who became a Valkyrie in service to Odin who forgot her old life before her service? 

What if she got her name, “Sigyn” (Victory Woman/Victory Bringer), for how victorious she was as a Valkyrie, picking the right warriors for Valhalla and helping them with their purpose?

What if Sigyn got ‘fired’, and Odin decided to arrange a marriage between her and Loki as a punishment for something she did, but instead, it worked out in HER favor because she was going to “quit” and give it all away to be with the one she loved anyway. Come Hel or high-water, Sigyn would take the consequences just to be with Loki. She knew what she was signing up for. 

Hence, this would explain that not only is Loki getting punished during Ragnarok for the part he played in Balder’s murder, but Sigyn is ALSO getting punished for disobeying Odin and leaving her role as one of his Valkyrie behind in order to be with Loki by having her husband bound to a rock, suffering the burns of snake venom and her kids hurt/killed. This just makes their story ALL THE MORE TRAGIC, but their love for each other SO MUCH STRONGER. This makes Sigyn’s role as the loyal wife, choosing to stay by her husband’s side for eternity and hold a bowl to shield him ALL THAT MORE CLEAR. 

It brings me back to the point again that Sigyn knew what she was signing up for; She knew how chaotic Loki was, but chose to love him and remain by his side. She knew that her marriage to Loki would be used as a punishment against her for turning away as a Valkyrie, hence the very god she worked for bound her husband to a rock and pitted her kids against each other, having one’s entrails become the chains for her husband. However, Sigyn remained strong despite it all, CHOOSING to hold a bowl and protect her husband for eternity until one day he can  finally break free from his chains, face Odin and the other gods during Ragnarok, and give them all their judgement day at last. 

So...this means the fate of Ragnarok is all in Sigyn’s hands and it all starts with her love for Loki. Talk about being a Victory Bringer. *mic drop*

BONUS:

And when you think about what Odin also did to Loki’s other children who would technically be Sigyn’s adoptive kids (Fenrir, Jormungandr, and Hel,) by locking them up and taking them away from Loki, it only drives this home further. 

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

What are some Loki headcanons you have for Nights at the Circus Loki as a domestic dad, now that that seems to be his lot in life lol (not that thats abad thing I just finished Nights at the Ciricus and I think it's a good ending for him!)

Ha, well hi there, Nons, and thanks for the love for my first ever WIP, Nights! Thanks for the headcanon asks, I love these, and I'm glad you're enjoying my stuff.

Fun fact: I almost made as sequel to Nights that decidedly does NOT keep Loki in the domestic dad role! I almost dug into the idea of Loki and Firebird needing to fully sever Loki's indentured contract with Thanos, and when Loki falls off The Grape Man's radar, he kidnaps Thora and Svana to lure him back, leading them to break out and warn their parents on their own while their parents fight their way to them. I decided to nix the idea because it would've been so plot-heavy and smut-light, I probably would've had, like, six readers! I was going to have at Svana and Thora find aid with the Guardians for a few chapters, and then bring Svana's ability to handle MewMew Mjolnir into things.

Anyway, on to Domestic!Dad!Loki...

*He's the 'Good Cop' dad. While he would fly into a ball of rage to protect his family, when it's matters of a less-dire nature, Loki is the pushover parent. Firebird is the disciplinarian/the Red Forman tough-ass parent, and it does lead to the occasional spat between the two of you.

*He's also takes his role as a comforter and protector seriously. He holds his daughters' hands at dentist appointments, he will threaten to holler at their bullies, he will worry when one of his girls scraped her leg while playing, and sometimes Firebird has to reign him in.

*He taught the girls his mischievous ways. Thora took to them more, and Svana has the more serious demeanor of her mother. He gets a twinge of pride whenever he hears that Thora has caused some sort of chaos at school.

*He's a Gomez Addams husband. I think this speaks for itself. He'll take every opportunity to but Firebird!Y/N on a pedestal and tell everyone he comes across about the time she saved him from the executioner's block, and that she is entitled to worship for it.

*Because of his own upbringing, Loki is obsessively mindful of being an equal-access father. He knows Thora is the one who resembles him both physically and personality-wise. Because of this, makes sure his line of communication with Svana is open at all times, and he tries to relate to his eldest as much as he can. Loki refuses to practice the blatant favoritism of his father, and one of his greatest fears as a father is to fall back into the patterns that Odin set.

*Loki is the Halloween King. When Firebird explained Halloween traditions of Midgard to him, and when he saw the girls get excited, Loki decided to go all out and turn your humble cabin into a haunted mansion, give the girls the scariest costume he could muster, and make the village go batty with his tricks. Admittedly, much of it is showing off for you and your daughters, but lets face it, Mischief Night is Loki's Christmas.

My OG NATC Taglist: @lokisgoodgirl​ @mochie85​ @mischief2sarawr​ @michelleleewise​ @lokisninerealms​ @toozmanykids​ @xorpsbane​ @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @goblingirlsarah @thedistractedagglomeration @unlucky-number-13

[saintreinettewrites]

Writeblr (Re)Introduction!

Hello! I'm Luke (30, he/him), and this is my writing blog (aka Writeblr). This is a sideblog, so I interact from @yamiunicorn. I am looking to interact with other writers, especially other poets and YA authors!

I've been known to say that I'm a poet by nature and an author by trade. My poetry is at times gruesome, usually visceral, and always straight from the heart.

My original fiction tends to jump around between a few different worlds (from what I lovingly refer to as the Luke Extended Universe). Most of my original fiction at least somewhat loosely falls into the category of high fantasy. Some of my WIPs include:

Valkyrie's Moon. Edvin's family and village were destroyed by the dragon Njalur when he was only twelve winters old. He was then adopted by the warrior Aksel, Thrudhall's former Lord Valkyrie. Once Thrudhall's greatest asset in their war against the dragons, Aksel was forced into retirement after sustaining injuries in his final clash with Njalur. Wanting revenge on Njalur, Edvin trains beneath Aksel in the hopes of becoming Thrudhall's next Lord Valkyrie. Little does he know, Aksel is hiding something from him, and, perhaps worse, Thrudhall's leadership is hiding something even bigger from its own citizens.

Vision of Wings. Dag, a disillusioned "shieldmaiden," has received prophetic visions from Loki since childhood. They then meet Baldric, a captured amnesiac who also shares a strange connection to the gods. Dag and Baldric embark on a journey from Midgard to Jotunheim in search of clues that could lead them back to Baldric's past, but the further they stray from home, the more ominous their tale becomes.

Riltan Steel Saga. A series of stories taking place on Rilta, a continent in a fictional world inhabited by mortals and magical entities alike. These stories are organized by era and currently fall into the following (chronological) order:

Stiletto. A tragic romance between Ruuntaka's Prince Rancor and his witch consort Mana. Their happily-ever-after is foiled by a jealous nobleman, who sets off a chain of events that leads to witchcraft being outlawed in Ruuntaka -- by punishment of death or exile to the frozen wastes of the northern territory known as Cibere.

Urumi. Takes place during the height of Ruuntaka's ban on witchcraft. A young witch named Han comes to serve as Princess Kelta's attendant, with the two of them concealing his magic until adulthood -- before their world falls apart when he accidentally commits murder in an act of self-defense.

Morningstar. Georg, a Kielan necromancer seeking a cure for his wife Rokiste's terminal illness, meets a phoenix named Ravenna who has taken a human form. Ravenna and her witch husband Miedo both grow attached to Georg, and their families end up blending together until they become indistinguishable from one another.

Saber. An untrained Ruuntakan witch named Tenken comes of age in a world that, despite progress in the right direction, still hates him for what he is. When the Ciberean necromancer Miedo threatens to tear even that world asunder, he and the friends he has finally made have to stand up to protect Ruuntaka from invasion -- and, presumably, destruction.

Labrys. Ruuntaka's Prince Kailus is the son of the nation's witch King Tenken and half-phoenix Queen Bianca, but his physical disability and chronic pain make it nearly impossible for him to use his magic, let alone transform. Enter his new tutor, Xel -- a woman from Kiel who is meant to train him in all things kingly so that he will be prepared to inherit the throne. Xel, however, is not who she claims to be, and Agony, the sister of the woman she killed, is prepared to do anything to seek her revenge.

Claymore. A demon doctor named Argos and his mortal husband Isrun work as bounty hunters, of a sort. Their main targets? Angels, who, as literal pieces of the goddess Asha, are more powerful than any human witch. Argos and Isrun adopt a half-angel girl named Airin, and she helps them find purpose beyond their shared hunt.

Pistol. Rewar, an angel who has killed countless phoenixes and unicorns, goes further than any of his siblings in their holy mother's name, siring thirteen half-human children whom he intends to use to conquer Kiel before moving on to the rest of the world. One of Rewar's sons, Jean, escapes his clutches and is instead raised by his human mother, Gwen, who hides him in a convent of the Order of the Lady of Cerberus -- an organization dedicated to protecting humankind from Asha and her angels.

Anyway! Thank you for stopping by, and, as always, have a safe journey.

[the-broken-truth]

Hey! You probably must be tired of me sending asks almost all the time, so don’t worry about answering them right away! Take your time! Anyway, do you think even if Björn was adopted by Thor, do you think Freya would still be interested in him and would try to be another mother figure to him along with Sif?

I would find it funny that some gods would totally make a “Björn protection squad”. And I was wondering, if Björn was a girl, what would be her name? I thought of Revna (Meaning Raven in Norse). Anyway, I hope you find these ideas interesting xD

Broken Truth: Greetings, my friend. Let's see what treat you have sent me this time. (Looks at the ask) Oh, Freya! That sounds interesting and as for the female version of Björn - I think Revna would be a lovely name. Now let the words weave together.

[Asgard - Home of Thor and Sif - Around Dinnertime]

The family sat at the dinner table, enjoying their dinner - well, 3 of the 4 were enjoying their food, and one was somewhat distracted and just moved their food around with their fork. Björn looked at his plate and exhaled, drawing the attention of Sif, who stopped eating to see her son hadn't touched his dinner; something was wrong and her motherly instincts were on edge.

"Björn, is something wrong?" Sif asked, this drew the attention of her husband and daughter, who both looked at Björn.

"I'm fine, Mother. Just thinking." Björn tried to dismiss it but Sif was not going to let it go that fast.

"Oh? And what has you so distracted that you haven't touched your dinner? I know something is bothering you and I want to know what it is." Sif said in her motherly tone - it was both gentle and strict, Björn knew that he wasn't going to get away without answering and he would never lie to his family, it just wasn't in him.

"Well... Remember when you allowed me to travel to Midgard for that hour? I ran into someone from my past and she wasn't happy to learn that I was adopted into your family." Björn explained, this caused Sif to raise her eyebrow - someone wasn't happy that her son was adopted into her family?

"And just who is this person that wasn't happy with the arrangement of you being adopted into my family?" Sif asked as she folded her arms and narrowed her eyes.

"Lady Freya - The All-Father's Ex." When those words come out of his mouth, Sif looked wide-eyed at Björn.

"Freya? How do you know her?" Thrud asked her brother.

"After everything happened with Magni, Modi, and Baldur, I ran into Freya in the woods while looking for a weapon to call my own; Freya found me and told me that when she killed Kratos, she was going to adopt me as her son because Baldur saw me as a potential brother. When I ran into her today, she told me that she heard about my adoption into her ex's family and she tried to take me with her. She...She..." Björn looked at the table with low eyes; Freya tried to do something to him.

"Björn, what did she do?" Thor asked in his deep voice as he leaned forward.

"She tried to use Binding Magic on me - she was going to bind me to her so that I would be her son but I ran away before her magic could get a hold of me." Björn finished his tale, fathering the gasps from his family.

"She tried...to bind you to her?" Thrud asked.

"Take you away from us?" Thor continued.

"Make you her son? The nerve of that witch!" Sif yelled, making everyone look at her. "She left Asgard and the All-Father, now she has the nerve to try and take my son?! I'll rip those wings off her back!"

"Mother, please, calm down. I'm safe now." Björn said with a tremble in his voice; whenever Sif was mad, it made him scared of his mother and Sif knew that. She inhaled and exhaled before she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Björn, please promise me that you will no longer go to Midgard alone. If Freya tried that again, I want you to have protection until you are old enough for your runes; understand?" Sif said.

"Yes, Mother, I understand," Björn said with a nod. Sif exhaled again and hugged her son with a tenderness that only a mother could give, but in her mind, she was planning on different types of revenge on Freya for attempting to bind her son.

[wizardofrozz]

Home Is Where the Heart Is

Loki Laufeyson x Reader, background Thor Odinson x Sif, Odin, Frigga

Word Count: 4.6k 

Request: May I request a Loki x reader where Loki and the reader are married but Loki keeps it a secret from Odin because he doesn’t trust Odin not to use the reader against him. Thor is supportive of his decision and is best friends with the reader. So one day when Loki and Thor are fighting a battle, Loki gets badly injured and has to stay in Asgard to recover. Thor immediately brings the reader to be with her husband on Asgard. When Odin walks into his son’s room to see a stranger crying next to his unconscious son, he gets angry and threatens the reader. The reader, not exactly knowing who Odin is (I doubt they would know anyone by looks and only knows people by name because she’s never been to Asgard) tried to defend herself but Odin only resents when Thor defends the reader

Warnings: violence, blood, swearing, mention of battles, character injury, Odin being an asshole

A/N: Thank you @iamcavainna​ for this request! I had a lot of fun writing this lol I wrote this with the idea that this takes place a few years before the events of the movies so the boys are ‘younger’. 

Asgard was the home of the Gods. But was it really home?

The sun glistened off the chromatic pillars of the royal castle, throwing golden light over the surrounding courtyards. It was beautiful, a reminder of Asgard’s ethereal nature. However, no amount of superficial beauty could break through the cloud of discontent hanging like a veil around the young prince.

Loki’s armor twinkled in the early morning rays, a stark contrast to his dejected mood as he stood on one of the highest balconies. His thoughts drifted, leaving Asgard and unsurprisingly finding their way to a quiet apartment lightyears away. By Midgard’s timeframe, it had been months since Loki saw you, your bright smile and welcoming embrace washing away the blood and kill count he’d accumulated in battle. As a prince and sorcerer, Loki had a duty to his family and his people, and no matter how desperate he was just to see you again, his responsibility came first as you had insisted. Sometimes, Loki wished you weren’t so honorable.

         “Brooding again, brother.” The thump of heavy footfalls accompanied the deep voice but Loki could never mistake that voice. 

         “I don’t brood,” Loki scoffed, turning to rest his hip against the railing he was leaning against. 

         “I beg to differ,” Thor laughed, his armor clinking against Loki’s as he knocked their shoulders together. Loki refused to dignify his brother’s jab with a response, electing to roll his eyes instead which only made Thor’s smile grow. “Are you ready for battle?”

         “As I always am,” Loki sighed, shifting to lean against the edge of the balcony again. Thor hovered silently for a moment, seemingly uncertain about his next move but it didn’t take long for him to join his brother, leaning his weight against the balcony. 

         “I still think you should tell father,” Thor remarked, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon. 

         “And I still disagree,” Loki replied smoothly, continuing to watch the Asgardians bustling around below. 

         “I care for her well-being just as much as you do, brother, but what is a marriage if it must be kept a secret?” Deep down, under the crippling desire to protect you was the tiny sliver of himself that agreed with Thor. But Loki refused to risk your safety, refused to put you anywhere near his father’s awareness to be used as a bargaining chip. The thought of your worth being quantified by your importance to him made his blood boil. 

         “I refuse to make her a pawn. I’ve told you this,” Loki huffed, side-eyeing his brother. This wasn’t a new argument between them. He could blatantly see the familial love his brother held for you but Thor was naive to think Odin wouldn’t use your mere existence to reign in Loki if needed. 

         “Yes, yes, I’ve heard it all before,” Thor sighed, waving his brother off. “That doesn’t change that I disagree with your paranoia. She deserves to know her husband is safe while also getting to experience who you truly are.” Thor stood at his full height, turning to face Loki and sweeping his arms out wide with a slight smile. “Asgard is your home, Loki. She knows nothing of your life away from Midgard so can you say she truly knows you?”

         “Please don’t make me have this discussion right before we leave for Svartalfheim,” Loki begged, hanging his head. Thor was right and he knew it, but that didn’t dispel the fear in his gut. Odin was a king, a ruler that would do whatever it took by any means necessary, including sacrificing the life of one for the lives of many. 

         “I don’t intend to start an argument but it’s something you should consider,” Thor sighed, dropping his arms and deflating slightly. 

         “Yes, I know.” Loki looked over at his older brother and for a moment wondered how much he missed you as well. He took a deep breath, ready to shift the conversation slightly when a high-ranking Einherjar appeared at the balcony entrance. 

         “It appears duty calls,” Thor said with a tight smile. Loki took one more deep breath, locking away his thoughts of you until the battle was over, focusing his mind on the clash looming in the distance. Thor threw a heavy arm around Loki’s shoulders, borderline dragging the younger prince off the balcony with a blinding smile that Loki couldn’t help but return. 

New York in the spring could be breathtaking if you knew where to look and the blooming cherry blossom trees at the Brooklyn botanical gardens were your favorite. The powdery pink flowers cut through the banal greenery for at least a few days. The gardens were teeming with New Yorkers admiring the pale petals littering the ground as the blooming period reached its end but you couldn’t judge them, you were doing the same. You weaved through the rows of trees, smiling softly at the young girl tossing handfuls of fallen flowers in the air and giggling as they floated back down. If only you could share this tranquil moment with your husband. 

Loki had been gone for months without a word, something that wasn’t abnormal but that didn’t mean his silence was any less painful. You knew at the beginning what you were signing up for and you didn’t regret it, but sometimes you wondered how your relationship could survive when your lives were literally worlds apart. You blew out a long sigh with a shake of your head, forcing your mind away from that rabbit hole, and continued your stroll through the trees. Eventually, you found yourself perched on the stone edge of the pond at the end of the path, watching the fallen flowers float over the dark water. 

The only warning was the faint static in the air before the familiar multicolored column of light exploded from the sky. People scattered from the small clearing between the trees, scrambling away from the beam of pulsing energy but your stomach flipped for an entirely different reason. The outline of a single figure landed in the center of the imprint burned into the grass and although it wasn’t who you were expecting, you raced across the short distance only to stop short a few feet away. Thor looked battered and exhausted; dirt and grime were caked in the valleys of his armor and blood trickled over his temple from somewhere in his hairline. 

         “Dear Gods, what happened?” you gasped, immediately grabbing his chin to get a better look at the split skin. 

         “I’m fine, little one,” Thor chuckled, gently removing your hand from his face. “A little blood is nothing to fret over.”

         “Says you,” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “Now what in the holy hell happened to you?” Thor’s slight smell fell away making him look years older and your heart sank.

         “I’m returning from a battle of Svartalfheim,” Thor mumbled, tipping his head down to examine his disheveled state. “It…didn’t quite go as planned.” You wanted to check over your closest friend more thoroughly but one thing overshadowed every other logical train of thought.

Where is Loki?

         “What happened?” you whispered, taking another step closer and ignoring the filth of battle clinging to him. Thor’s shoulders sagged, finally letting the fatigue weight him down as he wrapped a warm hand around the back of your neck and pressed his lips to the top of your head.

         “I came to take you to him,” he mumbled into your hair. All you could do was nod, well aware that if you opened your mouth the damn would break. “I can at least assure you he’s alive.” The knowledge should’ve cleared some of the fear buzzing under your skin but there was only one thing running through your head: for how long.

Years ago you had briefly experienced a violent tropical storm; rain pelleting you from every angle, and the wind screamed as it whipped past you before you fell through the nearest door. You were left pummeled and panting but you had at least found some relief from the angry swell of mother nature. The emotions battling within you felt like that storm, only there was no escape this time. 

Asgard was beautiful beyond words. Everything seemed to shimmer in the warm sunlight, giving it an almost angelic feel. The only thing keeping you grounded was the horse under you shifting as it moved, forcing you to keep a hold on the prince in front of you. Your head was spinning from the onslaught of dread, curiosity, reverence, panic, and so many other things you couldn’t distinguish. You were so awestruck that it almost dwarfed your mounting terror. Almost.

         “Do you need help down?” The sudden question snapped you out of your gawking only to realize the horse had come to a stop and Thor had slid off, looking up at you expectantly. 

         “Uh, yes, please,” you rushed out, leaning toward his outstretched arms. 

         “You look a bit dazed, my friend,” Thor noted under his breath.

         “You could say that,” you replied with a breathy laugh.

         “Once Loki wakes, you can admire Asgard as much as you’d like,” Thor said absently as he scanned the corridors surrounding you. With one sentence, he brought the reality of your visit crashing down on you, punching the air from your lungs along with your prior amazement. You had to jog to keep up with Thor’s long strides and to keep him from yanking your arm out of the socket as he navigated the palace with ease. The layout of the castle was disorienting, each hallway looking identical yet unique at the same time, making you dizzier with each turn. Finally, Thor started to slow and paused in front of a set of ajar double doors that made you feel like an ant in comparison. He gently guided you through the gap, nearly sending you stumbling into the woman on the other side. The Asgardian woman wore dark turquoise robes that in any other situation you may have complimented. She tilted her head when you continued to stare, a single stray piece of dark brown hair coming loose from her twisted hairstyle. 

         “Your Highness,” she greeted, flickering her eyes to where Thor stood over your shoulders.

         “Eir, I’ve come to see my brother,” Thor sighed, resting a heavy hand on your shoulder. 

         “I see,” Eir hummed, squinting at you. Her gaze was curious but not judgemental, alleviating some of your nervousness; you really didn’t need a reminder of just how trivial you were to the Asgardian race. “Follow me.” 

         “That wasn’t so bad,” you mumbled from the corner of your mouth, “Loki made it sound like the Asgardians would hunt me down for sport.” To your surprise, Thor choked on a laugh, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. 

         “Your beloved can be a bit…callous at times,” Thor snickered, squeezing your shoulder. 

         “I had no idea,” you deadpanned, earning another strangled laugh from the esteemed prince. You started to feel a bit lighter in Thor’s presence only for the illusion to be shattered when your eyes landed on the motionless shape a few feet away. 

         “Find me if you need me, Your Highness,” Eir said with a bow before slipping away. 

         “Oh, my dear,” you whispered behind the barrier of your hand. Your legs were moving on their own accord, bringing you to the edge of his bed. The thin sheet covering most of his body moved with each shallow breath, letting you find a sliver of solace for a moment. Loki’s expression was peaceful, something you’d only witnessed a few times that didn’t include when he slept and it tugged at your heart. He carried similar marks to Thor, minus the dried blood, but you picked up on a few additional welts. 

         “He took a hit to the chest in battle. His sternum was cracked and a few ribs were broken,” Thor explained from the foot of the bed. The pain in the creases of his furrowed brow mirrored yours and without thinking you reached for your brother-in-law, squeezing his hand. 

         “How long do I have?” 

         “There’s no limit,” Thor replied with the firmness of the king he hadn’t become yet. 

         “You know that’s not true,” you sighed, cautiously reaching for the hand resting on Loki’s chest. “Your father doesn’t know I exist so I can’t imagine he’ll be pleased that a ‘stranger’ is in his castle.”

         “Stop buying into my brother’s irrational fear that my father will mistreat you,” Thor huffed, waving away the idea. 

         “What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t take his concerns seriously?” you countered, raising a brow at the blonde who rolled his eyes in response.

         “Yes, you’re a wonderful wife,” Thor grunted with a wave of his hand. “Now, I need to get cleaned up. I’ll make sure Eir allows no one in until I return.”

         “Okay,” you whispered, your attention consumed by your husband once again. You were careful not to jostle Loki too much as you perched on the edge of his bed as close to his head as possible. With a hesitant tug, you pulled your interlocked hands into your lap, covering the back of his hand and just taking a moment to gaze at his bruised face. Months apart hadn’t affected the deep, consuming love you felt for the mischievous prince but you wished this wasn’t how you came together again. Loki’s hair had grown longer, the ebony strands just starting to curl, and you lifted a hand to gently twirl one around your finger. 

         “I knew I should’ve cut it.” For a brief moment, you thought you were hallucinating his voice. The only reason you glanced at his face was that why would you imagine his voice broken and hoarse? Foggy emerald eyes stared back at you from under heavy lids and you barely contained the urge to throw yourself at him.

         “Oh thank the Gods,” you whimpered, gently cupping his face. Loki leaned into the touch, his eyes falling closed for a beat as he squeezed your hand gently.

         “I thought you knew better than to underestimate my ability to survive,” Loki teased, turning his head enough to kiss the palm of your hand. 

         “Oh, shut up,” you grumbled halfheartedly. The tears you had managed to hold back finally broke free, streaking your face from a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety. 

         “C’mere,” Loki muttered, tugging on your joined hands. You hesitated for a moment, ignoring his impatient rumble as you shifted to avoid causing him more pain. The kiss was nothing more than a chaste press of lips but the last of your tension escaped with a sigh through your nose. Loki hummed happily even when you leaned away and his eyes stayed shut, a faint smile on his face. 

         “Does anything hurt?” you asked, lightly tracing the sharp angle of his cheek.

         “Almost completely healed,” he mumbled, his lips barely parting around the words. A fond smile spread across your face as he drifted to sleep again, making a few more unintelligible noises before settling. 

         “I love you, you reckless prince,” you chuckled. He made one more feeble attempt at speaking but he was too far gone and it came out as a soft affronted grunt. Once Loki had slipped into a comatose-like state again, the second blow hit. He was going to recover but losing Loki was a very real possibility, especially after this incident and after arriving on Asgard you realized how little you knew about the man you loved. You had heard stories from both brothers about their childhood but you could never even imagine the gardens or buildings they spoke of. Loki had shared memories of learning magic with his mother who you secretly longed to meet. Thor recounted parades, festivals, and celebrations that stretched through Asgard, filling the streets with cheers and happiness that you could only dream of. When you let yourself wander down that path, you realized how disconnected your lives were and it rubbed the sore spot you tried to keep buried. 

The echo of footsteps brought you back to the healing room on Asgard but you didn’t turn towards the door, not wanting Thor to see your glistening face. 

         “Who allowed you in here?” Every muscle in your body went rigid because that wasn’t Thor’s voice. “I’m speaking to you, girl!” You scrambled to stand, wiping at your tear-stained face before facing the unfamiliar man a few feet away. After meeting Loki and Thor, you attempted to research more about Asgardians only for Loki to tease you endlessly about your descriptions of his friends and family. Whatever the Earthlings had on the mysterious race of Gods was wildly incorrect, leaving you with nothing but the stories the princes shared with you. Which meant, you had no idea who the man glaring daggers at you was. 

He was much older than either of the brothers based on his snow-white hair and beard but he was not frail by any means. The man was slightly shorter than Thor and Loki but everyone seemed small compared to them. He wore what you had come to learn was traditional Asgardian armor making identification even harder. Your eyes drifted to his face and despite one of his eyes being concealed behind an eyepatch, the weight of his stare threatened to crush you. 

         “I-I was escorted here,” you rushed out, shuffling back a step. 

         “You do not belong here, Midgardian,” he hissed, narrowing his good eye and taking a menacing step forward. You hadn’t registered the intricately designed spear until the sharp, flat point was pressed into the notch between your collar bones. 

         “Please, you don’t understand,” you argued, a little stunned at how steady you sounded. In hopes of placating the furious warrior, you lifted your hands in surrender, hissing when the point of the spear burrowed a bit deeper, breaking the skin. 

         “What I understand is an outsider is in a restricted wing of this palace,” he replied, his hand sliding down the shaft of the spear as he stepped closer. “More importantly, standing over the body of an injured prince.”

         “Let me explain,” you pleaded, praying the desperation in your eyes softened the man. His jaw clenched but he shifted the spear back a centimeter, the cool air stinging the freshly broken skin. He nodded for you to continue, his hard expression never changing; you sucked in a deep, shaky breath and hoped you wouldn’t regret your next move. You caught a glimpse of the shock that flashes across his face when you shoved the spear to the side and ducked under his arm. His recovery time would be nonexistent but you had to at least try; you only made it a few steps before your feet were cemented in place. 

         “That was a mistake,” the warrior growled, slowly stepping around you. “I agreed to hear you out. Now it seems my generosity was misplaced.” 

         “Wait!” you cried out, uselessly trying to free your feet. The flat edge of the spear twinkled in the soft light of the healing hall as it was swept out to the side and with one last desperate attempt, you screamed. 

         “No!” The crashing from over the man’s shoulder broke his intense staring and you couldn’t think of a time you were ever this happy to see Thor. “Don’t hurt her.”

         “I should’ve known you allowed this,” the man snapped, slowly lowering his spear. “You’ve always had a soft spot for this race.” You may have been more offended by the disgust apparent in his tone if your heart wasn’t still racing from your near brush with death. 

         “Yes, father, I brought her here,” Thor panted, resting his hands on his hips as his chest heaved. You had heard the analogy of something being so surprising a person’s brain did the equivalent of a record scratch and always thought it was an exaggeration. The word father coming out of Thor’s mouth changed your view on that phrase. 

         “Oh, fuck me,” you breathed, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head. Both men turned to look at you; Thor’s expression was blank but you could see the flicker of wildly inappropriate amusement in his eyes. Odin on the other hand looked absolutely murderous. 

         “She deserved to sit at her husband’s side,” Thor sighed, darting his eyes to his unconscious brother. Now it was Odin’s turn to look like he’d just been slapped. 

         “Husband?!” 

         “Oh, uh…” Thor looked over his father’s shoulder, silently pleading with you for help but you were still useless with the realization you just met your father-in-law, who was ready to cut you down only seconds ago. 

         “Dear,” a female voice called, drawing all eyes to the door again. “Ah, there you are.” Odin’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he huffed out a harsh breath; he held the woman’s gaze for a moment before a hand shot out, grabbing the edge of Thor’s chest armor and pulling him close enough that their noses almost touched.

         “We are not done here. Lady Sif will be in to collect her,” Odin hissed before shoving his oldest son away and lumbering out of the room. The woman wore a pale blue dress and her gaze lingering on Thor, the skin around her eyes creasing with what seemed like pity before she disappeared. The silence that hung in the air was tortuous but you nor Thor made a move to break it just yet, waiting until the thump of boots was only an echo.

         “So, I don’t think I made a great first impression,” you said, still staring wide-eyed at the ajar doors. From the corner of your eye, you caught the moment Thor lost his internal battle and hunched forward under the force of his laughter. 

The small room Sif directed you to had one open wall that lead out onto a large balcony overlooking Asgard’s market district. The sitting room was warm and welcoming but you could feel the heavy gaze on your back as you wandered around the small space.

         “I can feel you staring, Lady Sif,” you teased, pausing under the archway leading onto the balcony. 

         “My apologies, Your Highness,” Sif replied, bowing her head. You nearly choked on your tongue as you whirled around to face the dark-haired woman lingering near the door. 

         “What did you call me?” you sputtered, blinking rapidly at her.

         “Your title, ma’am,” Sif answered slowly, her brows pinching together. “You are married to a prince after all.” Her expression remained blank but the longer you stared the more apparent her amusement became; you pressed your tongue against the inside of your lower lip and shook your head. 

         “You’re enjoying this,” you huffed, massaging your temple. Sif’s composure wavered and she cracked a smile, turning her face away from you. 

         “I was waiting for the day if I’m being honest,” she chuckled, leaning a shoulder against the wall.

         “Of course, Thor told you,” you snorted, wandering in her direction and perching on the arm of a nearby couch. “He’s always been starry-eyed when it comes to you.”

         “He talks about me?” Sif chirped and her face brightened in a way that brought a smile to your face.

         “Just like I assume Loki talks about me,” you laughed, loosely crossing your arms.

         “We do have some sappy princes, don’t we?” Connecting with Sif was easier than you expected and your laughter didn’t feel forced; a pang of sadness hit you when you realized this was just another thing you had been missing out on. You glanced up at Sif again but her face was angled toward the balcony, golden light highlighting her features.

         “When do you think Loki will be awake?”

         “Later today,” she said with a smirk. “Thor waited until we knew how bad the injuries were so he’s been healing for some time already.”

         “How much trouble are we in?” was your next question, one you couldn’t push down any longer.

         “With the Allfather? I can’t say,” Sif sighed, rolling her head around to meet your eyes. “With the Queen? None. I’m surprised she hasn’t been in to meet you yet.”

         “Loki told me how close they are,” you chuckled, looking down at your shoes.

         “She might be a little upset that he never said anything but I already know she’s ecstatic,” Sif assured with a bright smile. A loud knock on the door cut the conversation short; an armored warrior appeared in the doorway, informing Sif she was being requested by the Einherjar Commander.

         “I didn’t think I’d be trusted on my own so soon,” you taunted with a smirk. Sif rolled her eyes with a half-smile and pushed the guard into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind her. Without conversation to fill the room, the commotion from the plaza below drifted into the room, piquing your interest. A soft gasp rushed past your lips when you looked over the edge to find the bustling market farther down than you expected; the hundreds of Asgardians moving through the streets were nothing more than vague outlines. You leaned against the balcony, entrapped by the similarities between yourself and the alien race. 

Hundreds of beings moved by completely unaware of your admiration, going about their daily routine just like you did in New York. The quiet groan of the door was swallowed up by the noise below and when strong arms snaked around your waist, you nearly went tumbling into the crowd you were so intrigued by.

         “Did I scare you, darling?” Loki mumbled against your shoulder, pulling you against his chest. 

         “Oh, you’re awful!” you shouted, playfully smacking his bare arm. His lithe form shook with laughter against your back and he nuzzled closer, burying his face against your neck. Loki’s soft exhale raised goosebumps along the back of your neck and you relaxed against him, but the fear cold grip of fear just wouldn’t let go. “I wish I’d never have to feel that way again.”

         “I hate that I worried you so much, my love,” Loki sighed, lifting his head to hook his chin on your shoulder. You turned your head, resting your forehead against his temple, letting yourself sink into his familiar embrace. 

         “What the hell are we going to do now?” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut.

         “Well,” Loki huffed, kissing the tip of your nose, “I supposed we can’t hide any longer.”

         “I see why you kept me hidden,” you confessed, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. 

         “Let’s talk about that some other time,” Loki replied with a sharp edge to his voice and tightened his hold on you. “I’d much prefer to enjoy having you with me after so long.”

         “You can’t ignore this,” you grumbled, gently knocking your forehead against his temple.

         “I know but it can wait.” Loki started to gently sway, sliding his hand over your where it rested on your stomach, and humming contently. “We’ll figure it out together.”

         “Together,” you agreed, kissing the corner of his mouth. Loki tilted his head, catching your lips before you could pull away, not that you’d ever want to if given the option. He continued to sway to nonexistent music, kissing you until the need for oxygen outweighed your need for each other but neither moved away. Lips brushing together morphed into another sweet kiss and back again; nothing else matter in the little bubble of serenity you created. Loki wondered how he’d gone so long keeping you tucked away on Midgard when he could have moments like this whenever he pleased. The calming sensation that rolled over him brought with it a startling yet comforting realization.

Now, Asgard felt like home. 

Taglist: @itsafansworld07​

[yggdrasilushxrt]

@ofconstancy | Original Here [x]

Everyone in Asgard knew of the sacred harts that would eat among the branches of the World Tree, but it was rare and special if you actually saw one of them. However, today, Sigyn was at the edges of Yggdrasil's branches that connected into Asgard, looking for her husband who had been missing since the creation of the wall shielding them from the borders of Jotunheim.

She had hoped to find Loki, but instead, paused, breath hitched, seeing one of the ethereal harts. The sun began to shine upon them with a nice cool breeze making it's way through, moving Yggdrasil's branches. ❝ Hello. I didn't mean to disturb your area. I'm just looking for someone, but it appears he isn't here. Have you perhaps seen him by any chance, dear hart? ❞

Dvalinn has long since known about the construction of the wall that protected Asgard from the bitter hands of the Jotun. She knew such a thing would only strengthen the hatred and resentment the giants felt towards those on the other side. But so long as Yggdrasil was not harmed by those matters, it was of no bother to her. 

Her wandering and duties had taken her to Midgard and Aelfheim lately, her return to where the branches touched Asgard only being recent. It only felt right to stroll along the wall and take in its build. Perhaps sample some of the luxurious fruits Asgard had to offer while she was at it. 

The sunlight and wind that touched her fur was comfortable and welcomed. Paired with the taste of a particularly juicy find, she had lowered her guard enough that the approach of another was lost on her at first. At least until the other spoke up. A ripple of surprise traveled up her body and culminated with her throwing her head up to fix four cyan hues upon the stranger. Or.. perhaps not that much of a stranger?

She stared, squinting as if trying to see a blurry image in the reflection of a lake. Whose portrait did this face belong to? Hmmm... Oh! “Sigyn, yes?” The Hart’s lips never parted for words, but they were as clear as the day itself was bright and warm. Before an answer could be given, the air around the beast began to warm and shimmer like it was exposed to the intense heat of a star. The distortion warped the sight of her form until it faded and in the place of the stag was a young woman. Snowy hair was braided back, allowing cervine ears to remain visible and alert. 

Dvalinn’s expression remained relaxed as she gave her head a tilt. “I haven’t seen anyone beyond wildlife recently. Though.. I did spy a peculiarly smelling mare some time ago. Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary.”

[starryevermore]

a god’s regret (2/2) ✧ loki & steve rogers

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Hi I read a gods karma and loved it! I was wondering if you are inspired, would you write a part two that’s angsty and fluffy where the wife realises he was under thanos control? Just some hurt comfort? I just would love to see how the dynamic plays out when she hears his side of things. Maybe even him getting really upset about the Steve Rodgers kiss? If not it’s completely fine, hope you have a good day!

pairing: loki x goddess!fem!reader; steve rogers x goddess!fem!reader

summary: you learn the truth of what happened. 

word count: 1,790

warnings?: there won’t be another part after this so don’t ask, angst, not proofread

PART 2 TO “A GOD’S KARMA”

Asgardian divorces were incredibly rare. Yours was, perhaps, the first one in many millennia. And, even if there were other divorces before yours, yours was the one of the first among the royal court. Of course, no one was surprised when you requested the divorce following Loki’s return to Asgard. Some were surprised, though, that you did so in the middle of Loki’s trial and more so that Loki offered no arguments in his defense. All he could do was give you a forlorn stare, one that you would not meet, as he conceded that you could have anything you wanted, divorce included. He never saw you again after he was dragged back to your cell. 

You didn’t remain on Asgard for long after that. You couldn’t stand the looks of pity cast your way, the whispers people thought you couldn’t hear. Poor Y/N, they said, did you hear that her husband faked his death? That he tried to take over Midgard? I heard that he thought waging a war was the only way to win her heart. I’d believe it. She was always a cold-hearted bitch. 

Though you had never been a stranger to rumors, something about this one hurt too much. Perhaps it was Loki’s betrayal. You had never stopped loving him. When you thought him dead, you mourned every single day until Thor came to you in secret, saying that Loki was found on Midgard, controlling people with a weapon he had never seen before, hoping to rule over the planet. Thor wasn’t supposed to tell you—Odin feared your emotions may cloud your judgment, and you joining Loki’s side was not something anyone wished for. So you pretended you didn’t know until Heimdall told you Loki had been captured by a newly formed group of humans with superpowers, along with Thor, called the Avengers. 

You hadn’t meant to blow your top when you arrived on Midgard, but seeing Loki again…Knowing he was alive, knowing he had done nothing to contact you, knowing that he was pursuing a throne over his wife…Well, it was understandable that you were upset. Loki had made his choice, and now he had to deal with your wrath. By the time you returned to Asgard with him, you had made your choice. You could no longer spend the rest of your long life shackled to a man, a god, a would-be king, who cared so little for you.

When you left Asgard, there was no other place that you considered going to. It was easy for you to understand why Thor loved Midgard. The world was charming, even amongst its flaws. Its people were passionate, driven. Wanted to protect what they had. It was admirable. And you wanted to be a part of that.

So you traveled down to that tower Loki and the Avengers had been at, scaring the one called Tony. But when you explained why you were there, you were welcomed with open arms. You were granted a spot in the Avengers, and you helped them in their pursuit of stopping the big bads on Midgard. 

You didn’t hear from Loki for a long time. Not that you really expected him to reach out. If he couldn’t be bothered to contact you while you thought him dead, why would he go the extra mile when he was alive and nothing better to do than to rot in a cell? And for many months, you heard nothing. Until, you did. 

Thor brought you a letter, telling you that Loki had died. That Loki wanted you to have it, to read what was inside. That Loki had died a selfless death, so that the life of another, of a Midgardian, could be saved. It was admirable, but it didn’t mean much to you. He may have made right with the world in his death, but the bitter part of you wondered how true that was, wondered if that really cleansed him of all his sins. 

You properly moved on from him after. Before, you still wondered if you had made the right decision in divorcing him. If you should have.heard him out. But now…Now you didn’t have to wonder what could have been. The past was now the past. There was nothing left to be done. 

A short while later, you finally acted on your desires. For a long time, you had been watching the blond super soldier. He was a good man. He was a great man, even. He had a lot of catching up to do with the modern world, so he offered to help you adjust to the new world. It was easy to love Steve Rogers. He embodied everything a good man should have. He was sweet, he was kind. He cared about things greater than himself. And he cared about you. He made that abundantly clear. Though he was initially awkward, as the two of you grew closer, he made it perfectly clear that he liked you, a lot. And you liked him, too, but you still held a flame for Loki. 

Until Loki died, and you realized that you were letting your former husband hold you back. So, you stopped letting the thought of him control you and you asked Steve on a thing Midgardians called a “date”. It was perfect, something straight out of a fairytale. 

Of course, things weren’t always easy. The Avengers broke up because of the Sokovia Accords, the governments of the world’s attempt to control the heroes, and because Steve wanted to help his friend Bucky. You followed him, leaving the Avengers and becoming a fugitive. You knew a good fight when you saw one. Bucky was a good man, and he deserved a second chance at life. Then came Thanos, and the snap that killed half the universe. 

In its aftermath, you learned from Thor that Loki hadn’t been dead as they all once thought. Instead, he had posed as Odin and ruled Asgard. But then Asgard was destroyed and, as the Asgardians sought a new home in the galaxy, Loki was killed by Thanos. He died a hero.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt horrible about everything that happened. 

“It’s not your fault,” Steve whispered, holding you in his arms. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I know. But Loki…I should have thought harder about it all. He’d faked his death before. Why was I so quick to believe that he hadn’t done it again?” A tear slipped down your cheek, and you were quick to wipe it away. “The last memory he had of me was telling Odin I wanted a divorce. He died thinking I didn’t love him anymore.”

Steve pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m sure that’s not true. Loki had a way of knowing more than he let on. I’m sure he knew you still cared about him.”

“Maybe. But now I’ll never know.”

Steve was silent for a moment, before letting out a sigh. “I don’t say this to make you feel worse, but…Would it help to read that letter he wrote you years ago? I know you never wanted to read it, but…Things have changed.”

“Could you read it to me?” When he nodded, you said, “It’s in my desk. Top drawer on the right. It should be the only thing in the drawer.”

Steve disappeared from your side, and you soon heard him rustling through your desk. Then you heard the rip of an envelope being opened, before he sat back down next to you on the bed. “My dove,” he read, “I know that this letter does not come to you under preferred circumstances. I know I am probably the last person you wish to speak to, but I also know that I must tell you the truth. I must take full responsibility for my actions. Yet, not all of my actions were my own. When I fell from the Bifrost, I was found by the Mad Titan, Thanos. 

“He offered me a chance at a throne. If I could get him the Tesseract on Midgard, then I could rule that rule. He had presented me with the scepter you saw when you came to Midgard. In it was a gem that could be used to control a person’s mind. Unbeknownst to me, that same scepter began to influence my own thoughts. It amplified my feelings of worthlessness, it amplified my hatred. I never would have accepted the offer had it not been for the scepter. But that is the past. I cannot change what has been done. Instead, I can only apologize for the harm I have caused you. For many years, even now, you were the only joy in my life. I never wanted to hurt you. In fact, you were one of the few I wished to never hurt. I could apologize every day for the rest of my life, and I know that it would never make up for what I have done to you. That is why I let you go, why I didn’t fight your wish for a divorce. 

“After everything I have done, I at least owed you a chance to find happiness elsewhere. Frigga has told me that you have gone to Midgard. I do not know if it’s your intention, but if you want to see the super soldier…As much as it pains me, I want you to know it’s okay. Do not feel guilty for it. I only want for you to have everything you could want in all the realms. And if I am not a part of that happiness, it is only what I deserve. I wish you all the best. Sincerely, Loki.”

You choked out a sob, burying your face in your hands. “I thought so ill of him for so long,” you cried, “and after all this time…”

“You couldn’t have known,” Steve said, setting the letter aside, wrapping you in his arms. “I know it hurts, but you can’t blame yourself.”

“I never even asked for his side of the story…”

“What it have made a difference? He was a trickster. How could you have known if he was telling the truth?”

You sniffled. “I suppose you’re right. But it still hurts.”

“And I will do anything to lessen that pain, in anyway I can,” Steve said.

“Then can we have a funeral for him? I…I want to do something for him. He deserves it,” you whispered. 

“Anything you want,” Steve repeated. 

And thought it didn’t do much to ease the pain, at least it helped lessen the guilt you felt for how you left things. 

[shadowglens]

some post-ragnarok thoughts for grimhild:

grimhild finds out she’s pregnant with freyr’s child a few weeks before ragnarok, but keeps it to herself to save her husband the stress she knows it will cause him. but then ragnarok comes and they storm asgard and freyr, foolish reckless selfless freyr, sacrifices himself to save them as they flee through angrboða’s realm tear, and grimhild is left screaming on her hands and knees as the tear collapses behind her.

freya helps grimhild physically heal in the aftermath, with her back torn to shreds from where her wings were nearly torn apart, and it’s then that freya realises grimhild’s pregnant. freya tries to calm her friend, tries to console her as best she can, but this is grimhild. grimhild, who has been stealing to midgard and helheim for centuries honing her old magic, grimhild, goddess of rot and rebirth, who simply waits for a moment where freya is distracted before manipulating open her own doorway and chasing after freyr’s soul to helheim.

grimhild is hardly healed and barely has her protections up against helheim’s frost, and the bridge of the damned is near overflowing in the aftermath of ragnarok, but she wades through the sea of souls until she finds his anyway. he should have gone to valhalla, should be in the hall of the gods for his valiant death, but grimhild knew the new valkyrie queen wouldn’t send such a traitor against odin to those gilded halls. she’s not surprised when she finds him tossed in with the masses, as if in the hopes none would notice the soul of one of vanaheim’s greatest gods traipsing among them. grimhild pours every ounce of old magic into the ritual, pours almost her own very soul into it, until the darkened silhouette of him flickers and disappears in her arms. 

then there’s the trek out of helheim, the hordes of hell walkers that assault her already bloodied and beaten body for the blasphemy she has enacted, and by the time she makes it back to her doorway and throws herself through it, grimhild is barely standing. the humid lushness of vanaheim greets her, and despite her ruined wings and body she all-but flies to freyr’s birthplace. the village is as much of a ruin as she remembers it, destroyed by odin and his war dogs centuries before, and even though it’s only been a day (if that) since ragnarok, the sticky air is already shifting back to normal. 

she runs and stumbles to the archway outside his childhood home, blood dripping from her back and helheim’s stench lingering on her shoulders and looking half dead herself.

when she shoves open the doorway to find freyr sprawled on the floor where his mother birthed him so many centuries ago, naked and gasping and still turning from gold and green dust into something solid, something real and whole, grimhild can do nothing but collapse beside him and sob and smile and laugh. freyr, her beautiful daring freyr, is the first and only god grimhild will ever ressurect, all of her old magic drained out of her and poured into him. 

grimhild, goddess of rot and rebirth and devotion, is revered by mortals for centuries from that day onwards.

[warmaiidens]

Freya struggled to keep herself together after the arranged marriage with Odin. It was a slow drain, taking away little by little at first without anything being noticed. Freya didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late.

Her arranged marriage, as much as she hated it, was for her people. She wanted to protect them, and if this was the only way (as much as she despised Mimir for even stating the idea) she had to do right by them, no matter the cost of her own identity.

The first grip of her identity came when she had only her Aesir outfits. She went from the wild clothing of her witch wear in Vanir to glamorous dresses and gowns, and warrior armor of Asgard. It didn’t bother her at first, she knew she had to appear as a queen but what she didn’t realize what that this wasn’t a melding of two people; this was about Odin slowly converting her and taking away everything of Vanir within her.

Then came the name change. It started as a cute nickname from Odin within the privacy of their room, but then she realized others were calling her Frigg and Frigga. She tried to express her name was Freya, but when Odin called her Frigg in public, it was what everyone called her. She lost her name at that point. Odin glamorous her with all sorts of Aesir gifts. Trinkets like Circlets for her head, necklaces for her neck, adoring her wings with metal blades and armor of gold. After centuries of this, she no longer fought against it. Even for a time, she enjoyed it a little. Being spoiled by her husband made her smile, she liked the way he gave her little gifts, never asking for anything in return.

She had no idea that it was an ultimate agenda for something more.

There were fewer and fewer guests from Vanaheim, her brother never visited anymore, and her people refuse to period. And she hadn’t realized that even she wasn’t going much of anywhere anymore. More often than not she was adored and loved by the Aesir and the Valkyrie, but she didn’t see a true change among the realms. A small voice in her head told her that none of this was right, things weren’t changing. She knew she had been played, and yet she still tried to bring change between the Aesir and the other realms.

The birth of her son was yet another thing that stole her identity. It wasn’t the birth of her son or her son, but the fate of prophecy that lead her to react in fear and paranoia. Freya had been teaching Odin Vanir magic, hoping if he saw the magic and learned it he might respect her people more, but soon she saw him using it for terrible purposes and knew she had made yet another mistake. And worse when she refused to teach him her ultimate magic tricks, he reacted poorly to it. He turned verbally and physically abusive, and after dealing with such terrible conditions she finally stood up with what she had left.

She took herself and her sword and left, but Odin punished her for it and ripped her warrior spirit and her valkyrie wings from her, locking them in her homeland and then imprisoning her on Midgard.

That was the point she lost everything. The last hint of her identity was her Vanir sword Thrungva. But she had no will to wield it, so it rested on her wall, her memory and hope that maybe… maybe one day she would be whole again.

Freya lost everything when she became Queen of the Aesir due to the abuse of Odin and the manipulations of prophecy and more. Being stripped of everything left Freya broken, and it took years before she felt the ability to stand up and fight again.

[reyofluke-ocs]

Tell! Me! All about Sigrid!! I am utterly curious!!

Hope you're doing well!!

Hello! I am doing pretty well; I hope you are also doing alright!

SIGRID!!! I love her so much and really want to do more with her, but I know my OCs vary from well-known fandoms to obscure fandoms to purely self-indulgent rewrites of canon so honestly I don't blame people for running away from my blog at the first chance they get, haha. She is a MCU/Moon Knight OC and the daughter of Loki and Sigyn, if her last name (Lokidottir) wasn't enough indicator. She is also in a poly ship with Marc, Steve, and Layla, and possibly maybe Jake later on I'm not 100% sure. She survives the attack on the ship and witnesses Loki's death, which causes her to eventually flee New Asgard to explore Midgard like she'd always wanted to but never got a chance to. Total daddy's girl, especially because I'm imagining Sigyn died quite awhile before the events of Thor 1 (since to my memory she has never shown up or even been mentioned in any MCU film to date though in mythology she was married to Loki), and as a result Loki became very.... protective of her. Others may see Loki as evil and nothing more than a trickster, but she knows there's good in her father.

She ends up taking a position at the British Museum of History as an expert in Norse Mythology where she befriends Steven, as they both don't fit in and really have no other friends. She basically involves herself in the whole Harrow-Amit thing by staying after dark to follow Steven around because she can tell Harrow is more than he seems and has an interest in her friend. Which is how she meets Marc and learns about Moon Knight, Khonshu, etc.

Her and Khonshu do NOT get along for like 95% of the show arc - he doesn't trust her because she's a 'godling', specifically of Loki, and therefore a trickster like her father. They reluctantly start to get along after he realizes she stubbornly refuses to leave Marc, Steven, and Layla.

Layla initially wasn't sure what to make of this Asgardian that is best friends with her husband's alter but can't help but befriend Sigrid because of how curious she is. It also doesn't help that Sigrid is capable of holding her own in a fight, despite how naive she first appears with her fascination with everything Midgard.

She does use magic, which is appears green like her fathers, and also uses twin daggers like her father. Those are her main weapons, but she also inherited Loki's ability to shape-shift. Rather than being able to shape-shift into anyone or anything, Sigrid is primarily only able to shape-shift into a raven and, I'm thinking, a snake and maybe a wolf. She prefers her raven form out of those three though.

Her flat is kind of terrifying at first glance, because she has little religious shrines - one to her Uncle Thor, one to her father, and one to her mother - and while only really Thor's is received, having one for her parents is one of the ways she honors them.

Also I chose Daisy Ridley for her FC because I love her and adored the chemistry between Daisy and Oscar in the sequels-I-pretend-doesn't-exist and love Marc x Layla x Steven as an OT3 from the show (my social work background is telling me my preference for OT3+ is probably something i should examine further but uh that's not happening anytime soon if I can help it) and wanted to connect Moon Knight to the larger MCU so Sigrid was born.

I'll probably reblog this post at a later date with other facts (or might just make a separate post info-dumping on her)

ALSO I'M SO MAD AT MYSELF I DIDN'T SAVE THE SECOND GIF IN A BASE BEFORE ADDING THE COLORING SO I HAVE A GIF I LOVE WITH A COLORING I DESPISE NOW AHHHHH AND I REALLY DON'T WANT TO GO THROUGH THE HOURS TO REMAKE A SHITTY REMAKE OF IT KILL MEEE.

[puckwritesstuff]

Oh, Sigyn. 😢 Thanos torturing and making her attack New York in that What if...? broke my heart. What happens next in Asgard? I hope they would be understanding that what Sigyn went through was not her fault. There's also a possibility that she now has Loki's mental trauma problems from the original timeline.

When Loki said she needed "medical attention", he was thinking a weighted blanket, some hot tea, and maybe a kiss or twelve, in addition to actual medical attention. There's just one more obstacle between them and getting what Sigyn needs.

Thank you for the ask!

---

Sigyn no sooner stepped on the Bifrost bridge when her father pulled her into a tight embrace, like he’d never let go of her again. She melted, sobbing into his shoulder. He sighed, kissing her forehead and stroking her hair.

“It’s all right,” he said. “You’re safe now.”

She showed him her hands and arms, the Bifrost glowing between patches of skin webbed by the burn scars.

“How did this happen?” he asked.

“After I went into the Bifrost, after I fell, it… it did this,” she said.

“You absorbed too much of it,” Heimdall said.

“Will it..?” Loki asked.

“She’ll be fine,” Heimdall said. “In fact, it’s what kept her alive.”

Odin approached, with Frigga close behind, and Sigyn moved to stand between Odin and Loki.

“Father,” Thor said. “You can’t take Loki back to prison.”

“I am not here for Loki,” Odin said. “Sigyn, all of Asgard celebrates your safe return.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” she said.

“But you have caused an inordinate amount of damage to Midgard,” Odin said.

“No,” Heimdall said, firmly.

“I was not asking for an opinion,” Odin said.

“I am aware,” Heimdall said, stepping towards Odin. “Let me rephrase: ‘No’.”

Odin paused. “I must protect Asgard.”

“My girl is no threat to Asgard,” Heimdall said. “What she is a threat to is you. You will allow Loki to apologize for his actions, you will pardon him as reward for his heroism on Midgard, you will let Sigyn get the medical care she requires, and you will let them be.”

“I am your king,” Odin said.

“Thor is more than capable of charging me with treason,” Heimdall said.

“Heimdall,” Frigga said. “Please.”

She put a hand on Odin’s arm.

“Let them go, my love,” she said to her husband. “They’ve been through enough.”

Thor regripped Mjolnir. Loki gripped Sigyn’s hand.

Odin sighed. “Very well.”

Loki exhaled in relief. Thor and Heimdall stood down.

“We should get you to Iðunn,” Loki said to Sigyn.

“Yes, I think so,” Sigyn said, looking at the glowing web of lines on her hands and arms.

Loki put an arm around her waist and led her down the bridge, Heimdall following close behind. Odin looked to Thor.

“Even you, my son?” Odin said.

“Like Heimdall, my duty is to protect Asgard and the Nine Realms,” Thor said. “As is Sigyn’s. Let me tell you what has happened to her since she ‘died’ while protecting your empire.”

[speedgeek]

Copying over old Marvel kinkmeme prompts from LJ:

There's lots of fics out there where Thor or Loki get sent to Midgard as a punishment to live as a mortal James or Lily Potter, but how about Sif?

Sif says something rude about Loki's magic in front of Frigga which enrages her. At Frigga's request, Odin banishes Sif to live a life of a mortal magic user. Lily grows up, goes to Hogwarts, falls in love, goes to war. (We all know that part of the story.) In hiding, fearing for her child's life, she halfheartedly prays to her husband's chosen god (Loki, of course) for help. In her final moments, she desperately draws runes half-remembered from a dream in blood on Harry's crib. When she awakes on Asgard, Heimdall can no longer see Harry and they assume he's dead. (He's already at the Dursleys.) Loki is apologetic because he thought those runes would protect Harry. Sif bottles up her grief and tries to put the whole thing behind her, but alone in the dark, she cries for her lost son.

Fast forward several years. Heimdall catches a glimpse of Harry and Voldemort fighting. (The graveyard or any fight afterward.) Sif rushes in to protect her child. Voldemort gets the full wrath of the very angry Goddess of War.

+Thor and the Warriors Three happily follow her into battle ++ Loki goes too, because he doubts Sif's magical skill is up to snuff in her Asgardian body and by the Norns he was right about those runes and he doesn't want to see his spellwork wasted +++ Harry eggs on her anger by mentioning how various people (Snape, Petunia, Dumbledore…) have treated him, then sits back and watches the fireworks ++++++ Moony, Padfoot, Gred, Forge, and the God of Chaos in the same room at the same time…

[warmaiidensmovingagain]

Freya struggled to keep herself together after the arranged marriage with Odin. It was a slow drain, taking away little by little at first without anything being noticed. Freya didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late.

Her arranged marriage, as much as she hated it, was for her people. She wanted to protect them, and if this was the only way (as much as she despised Mimir for even stating the idea) she had to do right by them, no matter the cost of her own identity.

The first grip of her identity came when she had only her Aesir outfits. She went from the wild clothing of her witch wear in Vanir to glamorous dresses and gowns, and warrior armor of Asgard. It didn’t bother her at first, she knew she had to appear as a queen but what she didn’t realize what that this wasn’t a melding of two people; this was about Odin slowly converting her and taking away everything of Vanir within her.

Then came the name change. It started as a cute nickname from Odin within the privacy of their room, but then she realized others were calling her Frigg and Frigga. She tried to express her name was Freya, but when Odin called her Frigg in public, it was what everyone called her. She lost her name at that point. Odin glamorous her with all sorts of Aesir gifts. Trinkets like Circlets for her head, necklaces for her neck, adoring her wings with metal blades and armor of gold. After centuries of this, she no longer fought against it. Even for a time, she enjoyed it a little. Being spoiled by her husband made her smile, she liked the way he gave her little gifts, never asking for anything in return.

She had no idea that it was an ultimate agenda for something more.

There were fewer and fewer guests from Vanaheim, her brother never visited anymore, and her people refuse to period. And she hadn’t realized that even she wasn’t going much of anywhere anymore. More often than not she was adored and loved by the Aesir and the Valkyrie, but she didn’t see a true change among the realms. A small voice in her head told her that none of this was right, things weren’t changing. She knew she had been played, and yet she still tried to bring change between the Aesir and the other realms.

The birth of her son was yet another thing that stole her identity. It wasn’t the birth of her son or her son, but the fate of prophecy that lead her to react in fear and paranoia. Freya had been teaching Odin Vanir magic, hoping if he saw the magic and learned it he might respect her people more, but soon she saw him using it for terrible purposes and knew she had made yet another mistake. And worse when she refused to teach him her ultimate magic tricks, he reacted poorly to it. He turned verbally and physically abusive, and after dealing with such terrible conditions she finally stood up with what she had left.

She took herself and her sword and left, but Odin punished her for it and ripped her warrior spirit and her valkyrie wings from her, locking them in her homeland and then imprisoning her on Midgard.

That was the point she lost everything. The last hint of her identity was her Vanir sword Thrungva. But she had no will to wield it, so it rested on her wall, her memory and hope that maybe… maybe one day she would be whole again.

Freya lost everything when she became Queen of the Aesir due to the abuse of Odin and the manipulations of prophecy and more. Being stripped of everything left Freya broken, and it took years before she felt the ability to stand up and fight again.