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joelalorian · 9 months ago

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a hero's blessing

marcus moreno x f!reader | wc: 4474 | 18+ mdni | masterlist

Thank you to the marvelous @perotovar for hosting such a fun and interesting challenge with the Offering of Frith event and for providing this beautiful moodboard! I had such fun learning about Norse mythology and the goddess Frith. This is also my first foray into writing my lovely husband Marcus Moreno. If you have not done so already, please check out all of the other amazing contributions to this challenge here!

Summary: The Norse goddess Frigg weaves the fabric of destiny for every living being. A Norwegian gift of a thousand thanks unlocks a destiny which Marcus did not see coming.

Warnings: Not much, really. Some cursing. A touch of angsty thoughts turns to fluff. Some adult themes and implied sex. My blog as a whole is 18+ mdni. A little bit of info dump. No use of y/n, ever. Two idiots with crushes stumbling through life until fate intervenes. Dividers courtesy of @saradika-graphics.

The people of Norway cheered when the Heroics delivered the final blow to the blight that menaced the women of their country for weeks. The skies cleared and birdsong once again echoed through the air as if the Norse Gods themselves expressed their heartfelt thanks.

Marcus Moreno looked up from a knelt position, still catching his breath after the hard-fought battle, to see a weathered old man standing before him with a toothless grin.

“Tusen takk,” the old man said in a raspy voice roughened by age. Placing one wrinkled hand on Marcus’ shoulder, the old man reached out with the other and it took Marcus a moment to realize the old man held something in his hand, extending it in offer.

Instinctively, Marcus stumbled to his feet, a gloved hand stretching out to meet the old man’s. He stared in wonder as the old man gently placed a metal pendant emblazoned with an intricate Norse knot into his hand. Like the old man himself, the emblem had been weathered by the passage of time, yet remaining ever sturdy, the black leather rope attached to it brand new and tied in a neat knot.

Marcus stared at it in wonder, wide brown eyes tracing the never-ending pattern of knotwork as the metal gently vibrated through his glove. His gaze dragged upwards from his hand to meet the milky eyes of the old man; eyebrows raised in question.

“A symbol of our gratitude, a thousand thanks, if you will,” the old man said in English. Arthritic fingers grasped the thin strip of knotted leather and reached upwards to place it over Marcus’ head. “Said to be blessed by the Norse goddess Frigg, wife of Odin. May it bring you love and harmony in this life and beyond.”

Too stunned to form words, Marcus nodded with a warm and grateful smile as the gift buzzed against his chest, calling to his heart.

A hundred pages deep into a thick text on Norse mythology, Marcus didn’t hear the first few gentle knocks on his office door. You waited a solid minute, unsure what to do knowing he was in there and finally pounding on the door, snapping his attention away from the book.

“Come in!” Marcus called, marking his page before he closed the book and leant back in his chair. His face split into a soft smile as you entered the room, a stack of files in hand.

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Moreno,” you offered, placing the files down on his desk, the top one open to a form needing his signature. “This needs to be signed right away. As do these few.”

“How many times do I need to tell you to call me Marcus?” He reached forward pen in hand and signed the forms you laid before him. “Mr. Moreno sounds too…”

“Formal?” you supplied helpfully. “Would you really prefer I call you Marcus?”

His breath caught in his chest hearing his name coming from your lips. He longed for you to say his name every damn day.

“Yes,” Marcus replied with a nod.

The token of appreciation given to him after completing the mission in Norway sat heavy against his chest, hidden beneath his dress shirt. Marcus felt incapable of removing it once donned in the presence of the old Norwegian man, and now, for the first time since the day the old man slipped it over his head, it buzzed against his skin suddenly.

It was also the first time he spoke to you since he returned.

Coincidence?

Or could there be something more to it?

“Well, if you insist, Marcus.” You smiled sweetly at him as you scooped up the necessary forms. With a cheeky wink, you offered one last parting shot. “You are the boss, after all.”

His eyes tracked your departing form with a crooked grin and furrowed brow, one hand rubbing at the warmth in his chest.

It took Marcus a week to determine that the pendant only buzzed with electricity when in your presence. It didn’t happen with anyone else. Not Missy, or his mom, or the pretty barista at the coffee bar down the block from Heroics HQ, or any of the moms who routinely tried to flirt with him when he picked Missy up from school. It certainly didn’t happen with any of the other men he interacted with daily.

After one too many experiments, Marcus also concluded it appeared to be unrelated to his powers. He apologized profusely to Sharon in Purchasing when he fried the new coffee machine after testing that theory while waiting for a fresh cup of coffee.

What was it about you, he wondered. The mystery irked him.

As any man would, or so Marcus thought, he blithely ignored the fact that he harbored an innocent workplace crush on you since the day you started at HQ, wide eyes twinkling in the fluorescent light as you eagerly trotted behind his mother when she gave you the penny tour. One glance at your ethereal beauty and Marcus knew he liked you in a way entirely inappropriate for the workplace.

Some might have called it love at first sight, but not pragmatic ol’ Marcus Moreno.

No, for the sake of his own sanity (and his heart), Marcus buried that crush deep, deep down beneath layers of grief for his wife’s passing and any number of other suppressed emotions, never to see the light of day again. Until now, apparently.

Marcus wished he thought to ask the weathered old man in Norway some questions about the nature of the pendant before just putting it on without thought. For all he knew, it could have been cursed to turn him into a salamander.

That would have totally sucked.

Marcus spent days with his nose buried in research trying to figure out the meaning behind the gift. He even went as far as calling the nearest museum to speak to a historian. In all, it took him three weeks and a coffee meeting with the historian to finally get some answers that, well, almost made sense.

The spitting image of Sean Connery in his portrayal of Dr. Henry Jones Sr. in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade – honestly, they could be brothers! – the historian introduced himself as Franklin Rockel, an expert in ancient European history. “So, how can I be of help to the leader of the Heroics?”

Marcus thanked Franklin for meeting with him and dove into a long-winded explanation of the Norwegian mission and the subsequent token of appreciation gifted to him. Pulling the pendant from beneath his shirt, he showed it to the man without once removing it from his around his neck. The tips of ears turned pink as he explained to the older man how it buzzed against his chest every time you were near.

Visibly fascinated with the tale, Franklin stared down at the knotwork in the metal with a broadening smile. “What do you know of the Norse gods?” Franklin spoke with a calming lilt to his voice.

“Just what I’ve been able to read up on in the past few weeks. Lots of lore, just like with Greek gods. I didn’t find much on Frigg – that’s who the old Norwegian man told me blessed this piece. Just a bit about her being Odin’s wife and the goddess of destiny, love, marriage, and the skies. A few other things, but that’s what stood out to me.”

Pulling out a small notepad, Marcus sat straight-backed, ready to absorb every word Franklin shared.

“That’s a good start. Frigg is said to have weaved the very clouds, though that could just be a metaphor for her abilities with shaping destiny. She knows the fates of every living thing and holds that information dear, not allowing herself or others to interfere with divine destiny, no matter the eventual outcome.”

Franklin pulled a battered yet clearly beloved tome from his satchel, opening it to a depiction of Frigg in all her majestic maternal glory, her gold dress enhancing the youthful glow of her skin.

He eyed Marcus as the younger man gazed at the illustration, soaking in each detail in true wonder.

“It is not immaterial that you are a widower, Marcus.” Franklin said, voice measured as Marcus’ eyes shot to the historian’s in surprise before remembering it was common knowledge that the leader of the Heroics lost his wife some time ago. “Frigg is the guardian of familial and marital bliss and harmony, seeking to comfort and guide those dealing with the complexities of these bonds. She knew of your eventual loss long before it happened and now, she offers a beacon of hope, a sign that a new love exists for you.”

Flipping through the fragile pages, Franklin pointed out a particular passage that reiterated much of what he just described. He allowed Marcus several minutes to absorb that and more about Frigg, watching as the younger man jotted down a few notes while reading. When Marcus sat upright once again, a little bewildered, Franklin smiled.

“Frigg must feel a connection to you. You share several qualities – wisdom, a strong understanding of diplomacy and strategy, a protective nature with children.” Pointing to the metal dangling from Marcus’ neck, Franklin continued, “There is no doubt in my mind this was meant for you. The fact that it buzzes when only a certain person is near – that alone convinces me, as it should you, that you are destined to be with this woman.”

Franklin packed away the tome, finishing the last sips of his Earl Grey tea while Marcus tried to make sense of all that he just learned. Tapping gently on the table as he stood, Franklin offered one last pearl of wisdom.

“What you do with all that I told you is up to you, but Frigg’s intentions are clear.”

Marcus didn’t know what to think but nodded and thanked the man all the same.

In the week following his meeting with the renowned historian, Marcus ran into you everywhere. At HQ it was entirely expected and normal (and brightened his day every single time, whether he’d admit it or not), but then he started seeing you at places he never had before. Did he just never notice you there before or was Frigg’s influence pulling you together more and more?

He ran into you at the grocery store where he did his weekly shopping on Friday evenings, catching sight of you frowning at the selection of fresh seafood. At the mall when he took Missy clothes shopping – his baby girl was growing up so fast! – and you stopped them to say hi, smiling brightly at his little girl. And even at his favorite pizza place blocks from his house, where he popped in to pick up the best pie in the area two nights a week like clockwork. He saw you every-damn-where. And maybe he just never noticed before or fate really was drawing you both closer, making you circle each other until your orbits finally collided.

Marcus would have thought you a stalker if not for the raw look of bewildered surprise each time before your expression split into a delighted grin. It was clear you were equally, and pleasantly, confused by the sudden coincidences. A few times you hung about, chatting with him and Missy before carrying on your way, not wanting to disturb the Moreno’s precious downtime too much. He secretly treasured those moments.

Still, Marcus took no action, too busy overthinking everything, as he was wont to do. Was he even ready for romantic entanglements? He hadn’t so much as gone a date or kissed someone since his wife’s passing, too concerned with taking care of Missy and too consumed with their mutual grief for so long. By conventional standards, it was more than time he moved on, but… He still wore his wedding ring, for fuck’s sake. Despite whatever destiny and fate might say, was he really ready for taking another chance on love? Would he ever be?

He didn’t know.

“Hey Marcus,” your sweet voice snapped him from the paralysis his overthinking led him to. “I stopped at the coffee bar on the way in and got you this. Thought you might need it after that last case.”

Placing a large to-go cup on his desk when Marcus didn’t reach out to accept the offering, you stared at him as your smile fell bit by bit. He just stared at you, but you could practically see his brain working behind those too intense, dark eyes.

“Ar-Are you okay?” you questioned uncertainly.

Did you overstep somehow? He insisted that you call him Marcus instead of Mr. Moreno or Boss, so it couldn’t be the informal greeting. Was bringing him a coffee too much? You’d never done that for him before, but you often brought one back for Shelley in Accounting just like she did for you. It wasn’t that unusual, was it? It seemed like you two were growing closer each day, but did you read it entirely wrong?

Falling deeper into the pit of self-doubt, you fidgeted waiting for Marcus to do or say something, anything, before you melted into a puddle of mortification. When he merely continued staring at you wordlessly, face like a mask of the man you knew for a solid minute, you spun on your heels and fled before the sudden onslaught of embarrassed tears hit.

You barely heard the sudden, frantic call of your name from his lips as he finally snapped out of whatever daze he was in, but it was too late. Your already fragile self-esteem and overwhelming feelings for the leader of the Heroics could not handle whatever the hell just happened. Nor did you understand quite why it bothered you so much, why a piece of your being felt like it had been cut by a sharp knife, and you needed to get as far away from Marcus Moreno as you could for a hot minute.

Scratch that. You needed to be anywhere but Heroics HQ for the rest of the day. Dropping an email to your boss, feigning food poisoning, once you returned to your office, you shut down your computer and skulked home.

Marcus snapped from his self-inflicted panic moments too late, shouting your name but failing to get up and follow you.

Shit! What the hell was wrong with him?

Marcus didn’t have an answer for that. The vibrations from the pendant against his chest became overwhelming when you stood before him, strumming against his skin harder than it ever had before, and he froze. His brain must have short circuited or something. There was no other explanation.

Marcus flung himself back in his chair with a weighty sigh, one large coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. He caught the shattered look on your face even through the haze and it pierced his heart. It wasn’t intentional, him being a dick. He had to make sure you knew that. But how?

Hemming and hawing for a solid half hour, he was no closer to coming up with a worthy apology. He hated hurting your feelings or making you question yourself, no matter how unintentional. You deserved so much better than that. You probably deserved better than him. No, you definitely did.

This goddess Frigg and her blessing were really messing with his head, throwing his ability to think and act out of whack. How could he possibly know what he felt when it seemed like the universe decided for him without ever asking if he was ready?

Swiping his hands down his face, scrubbing roughly at the neatly trimmed scruff on his face, Marcus heaved a sigh, feeling like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Whatever it is can’t be that bad, mijo.” His mother stood in the doorway, one hand on her cane and the other resting against the doorframe.

Her knowing smile worried him but he didn’t have the energy to trade barbs and hidden meanings with the inimitable wits of Anita Moreno right now. Not when he long suspected that she had the power of omniscience.

“Not now, mom,” Marcus groaned, fingers massaging his temples as his eyelids shuttered closed.

“Yes now, mijo,” Anita replied, stepping into his office and easing herself down into one of the chairs in front of his desk. “I just watched one of the administrators I hired for you rush out of the building nearly in tears. What did you do to that sweet girl?”

His eyes snapped open with another groan. As if he didn’t feel awful enough, now his mother wanted to give him shit over you, too. Leveling tired eyes at the woman who told him many times that she brought him into the world, and she could surely bring him out of it if he didn’t behave when he was younger, he sat back in his seat.

“You already know, I’m sure. Why don’t you just let me have it so I can get back to work.”

“Why would I let you have it? Are you admitting that you acted poorly?”

This back and forth was exactly what he wanted to avoid.

“Must we do this? I’m exhausted and confused, and I know I messed up, but I don’t know if what I feel is my feelings or fate telling me what to feel, and I hate that.” That summed it up pretty well, actually, and now that he admitted it out loud, Marcus hoped his mom would have some helpful insight.

“Well, tell me this. Did you have feelings for her before you were given that trinket you’re wearing?” Anita watched him consider the question, a smirk stretching her lips when realization hit him.

“Point taken,” Marcus sighed.

“Good. Now get off your ass and go apologize. That girl is head over heels for you as much as you are for her,” she replied. Watching her son’s eyebrows shoot upwards, she waved him off. “Oh, don’t give me that look. You both think you hid it well. Pathetic effort, really. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes and half a brain that you both had crushes on each other. Fate is finally telling you that this is meant to be, that it’s okay to move on and be happy again, mijo. Don’t spit in the universe’s face thinking you know better than it does.”

Marcus hugged his mom, finally allowing himself to accept that destiny might be on to something. “I gotta go. Can you pick Missy up from school? I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”

Shooing him out of the office, Anita assured him she’d look after Missy. “If you apologize right, I imagine we won’t see you until tomorrow.”

Marcus weaved his hybrid sedan through the afternoon traffic, impatient to get to your house, to make things right. It was well past time to be honest with you, to share his feelings. He only hoped his mother was right, that you liked him as much as he liked you. Even if you didn’t, he still owed you an apology for earlier.

Pulling up to the curb out front of your quaint home, your sensible car parked in the driveway, he realized that you lived only blocks from him. How he never saw you out and about in the neighborhood until recently was beyond him. Maybe the timing was always off until now.

Taking a moment to steel his nerves, Marcus shut the car off and climbed out of the driver's seat. He swiped sweaty palms down the legs of his pants as he walked up the small front porch and knocked on your door.

God, he hoped you’d hear him out, that you wouldn’t just slam the door in his face.

A hopeful smile spread across his face when he heard the lock click and you opened the door, looking beautiful in loungewear instead of your typical business casual outfits you wore to work. The material looked soft, and Marcus felt the sudden urge to nuzzle his face into the fabric and beg your forgiveness for being an idiot hit him.

Your pouty frown, scrunching your little nose, almost to adorable to handle, Marcus blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” The words left his mouth in a rush of breath before his brain could think better of it and the tips of his ears flushed as you gaped at him. “I, uh… shit, sorry! Getting a little ahead of myself. May I come in? I owe you an apology and an explanation.”

Hesitating, your eyes scanned Marcus’ handsome face, and upon seeing the sincerity in those eyes so brown they reminded you of melted chocolate, you stepped aside to invite him inside your modest home. “Forgive the mess,” you mumbled as you led him to the living room and motioned for him to take a seat on the couch.

Glancing around while you hovered nervously, Marcus soaked in the details of your living space and wondered what mess you referred to. Everything had a place, just like your office at work. From the pale blue walls to the light gray couch with the fluffiest cushions to the black and white portraits on the mantle above the fireplace, he could see bits of you everywhere. It fascinated him, this peek at your life outside of Heroics HQ.

Heart pounding in his chest, Marcus motioned for you to join him on the couch. “Sit with me, please. I need to say a few things, starting with I’m sorry for behaving so oddly earlier. There is much to share with you that will hopefully help you understand why I froze.”

You nodded and sat next to him, still a bit confused on whatever the hell was going on. Marcus launched into an explanation of the gift given to him in Norway, the meaning behind it, his conversations with the historian as well as his mother. You sat there staring at him in wonder, mouth dropping further open as the pieces of the puzzle began to come together.

When his voice tapered off, dark eyes beseeching you to not reject him, you reached out to him, a soft expression in your own eyes. “May I – uh, may I see the pendant?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. But first, I want you to feel something.” Marcus grasped your hand in his and pressed it against his chest, right over where the pendant hummed against his skin beneath his shirt. “Do you feel that?”

Eyes widening, your gaze flashed back and forth between his chest and his eyes a few times before gasping out a quiet “Yeah.”

“That’s what it does whenever I’m near you. The closer you are, the stronger the vibrations,” Marcus explained. “When you brought me that coffee, it was so thoughtful and unexpected, and it caught me completely off guard. And for some reason, the pendant buzzed abnormally hard against my chest in that moment, and it all became overwhelming.”

Your fingers traced around the feel of the vibrating metal as Marcus spoke, and you knew at once how distracting it all must be for him.

“So, we’re like soul mates, then?” you questioned, bolding tugging on the leather rope to pull the pendant out from beneath his clothes.

“Of a sort. We were destined to be together according to the goddess Frigg.” Marcus gulped, watching intently as your fingertip delicately traced the knotwork pattern on the metal. “How do you, uh, feel about that?”

Your eyes, glossy and full of wonder, met his and you flashed him a sweet smile. “Well, I’ve had a debilitating crush on you since we first met, so I can’t say I’m against the idea.” Your laughter tinkled in the air and his heart soared.

“You have? I never knew,” Marcus replied in wonder, his own face split by a jaw-breaking grin. “I had one on you, too.”

Quirking an eyebrow at him, eyes twinkling in the dim lighting of the room, you said, “Well, that was the point, wasn’t it? I was trying to be professional, and I never thought you would feel the same, so I buried that crush deep in the depths of my soul.”

Stunned, Marcus spluttered before finding his words. “How could I not feel the same way? You are amazing and beautiful and smart…”

Lunging forward, you kissed him, cutting off the rest of his response. The kiss started off as hesitant exploration of lips and quickly morphed into an unleashing of pent-up desire. Teeth clashed and tongues tangled as the kisses deepened and control weakened. With swift movements, Marcus shifted until you were sprawled across his lap, hands wandering until layers of clothing were tossed aside in your combined need to feel more, more, more.

When Marcus flipped you onto your back against the plush cushions of the couch, the pendant dangled between your naked bodies as he hovered over you. It vibrated with such intensity that it visibly swayed with its own energy. You pulled him down on top of you, feeling that intense yet pleasant buzz and heavy weight from the pendant pressed against your skin as the two of you came together as one.

Afterwards, when you both lay together sated and sweaty, chests still heaving as you recovered, you ran your fingers through his thick locks. “We really owe Frigg for bringing us together.”

Marcus hummed, pressing a series of kisses along your collar bone and up the side of your neck until he reached your face. “We sure do. I’m not sure this ever would have happened without her influence. I don’t know that I ever would have found the courage to admit my feelings otherwise.”

You both gazed at each other with love in your eyes, feeling grateful for that old Norwegian man, his surprising gift, and the wonderful blessing from the goddess Frigg. You laid there for hours, talking and laughing and just genuinely enjoying each other’s company. The future before you looked much brighter and Marcus excitedly invited you over for dinner with him and Missy the following evening, hoping that you would never leave once you arrived at his house.

Later that night, while in cuddled together in your bed, Marcus confessed that he loved you. The crush he harbored in silence for so long turned to love at some point without his knowledge and now his heart practically overflowed with it. He asked if it was too soon to say something like that and you shook your head.

“Not when we were destined to be together. I love you, too, Marcus Moreno.”

The pendant buzzed heartily once more before going still as if Frigg herself was saying “Finally.”

thank you for reading! feedback is always appreciated but never demanded.

#marcus moreno x f!reader #marcus moreno #offering of frith challenge #frith #norse goddess frigg #marcus moreno fluff #marcus moreno is a husband shaped pile of wholesomeness #a little norse mythology #ppcu fanfiction

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sk1bidi-n1k0-e4ts-people · 2 years ago

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i'm still here // dad!thor odinson x daughter!reader

!!!ENDGAME SPOILERS!!!

Summary: your brought back after 5 years...

Warnings: literally a single cuss word from rocket, fear of being alone, crying, character death mentioned, overall fluff,

Age: 16

A/N: hope yall like this one too 🥰

+•°+*°•+pt 1 here+•°+*°•+

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You felt weightless, like you were floating. You gained physical consciousness soon after this. You were laying flat on your back on the forest floor, arms curled up as if you were trying to hold something.

You sat up and looked around to see more avengers also confused. You looked around and realized, your dad wasn't there like he was before you passed out.

"Dad?" You whimpered out, trying to find him. You whipped your head around as you heard sparkling behind you.

"Who the h3ll are you?" Rabbit asked (srry i love calling him that)

"Come on its been five years, we...the avengers need you" strange told you all. You blinked at him a few times in confusion, "its been how long!?" You shouted, eyes wide.

Strange helped you up and you all fell into the portal.

You had just started fighting the alien dogs. Not knowing what to do. You soon found yourself outnumbered by these dogs. You were trying to get them away but it did nothing.

You were pinned on the ground, they kept trying to get to you but tony flew by and blasted them for you. "Thanks!" You yelled at him, he nodded in response before flying off to the distance.

You stood up to brush yourself off, and your father was standing a few feet away from you, just staring in shock.

You gasped as you made eye contact with him, tears welled up in his eyes.

He pulled you Into a strong hug quickly. He squeezed you so hard you thought you might d!e.

He pulled away to look at your face, he let out a sad chuckle as he looked at you, innocently looking back up at him.

He held you to his chest as he sobbed. Yes, your father always acted like nothing and no one could make him cry, or even make him emotional. But when it came to you, he was a verryyy delicate flower.

"Im still here." He whispered to you.

He had lost everyone in his life, his mother, his father, his brother, his best friend, his lover, and the one person he couldn't let go of, You. But you, unlike anyone, came back to him. And healed his broken heart. He was the only person you had as well, after losing your uncle and watching it happen before your eyes hurt like no other.

Another space dog ran at you two and tony, once again, swept past and blasted it. "Second time! Not helping you anymore" he quickly spoke before flying away.

"We should help" you told thor. "Yes, we should" he smiled sadly, finally having something in life.

You both continued to fight together. You looked to your left after a while, to see tony, on his knees, with the stones.

Tony acted like your father when thor wasn't around, he was also your best-est friend, other then thor. Even once accidentally calling him dad. And though he would always deny it, he saw you as his daughter.

You gasped and covered your mouth as he said the words, "i.... am.. iron man" and snapped. You ran over to him immediately, Peter got to him before you. He sobbed out a small, pained "tony..." you held him as he cried.

You were the first one to Kneel before tony, a helpless tiny human, had saved the universe on his own. Everyone followed your actions.

You sobbed for days after this tragic event, your dad had to hold you up on his funeral because you were crying so much.

"Im still here" thor muttered to you as he held you close too him. It took a while to get over but eventually, it happened.

You found out through pepper that you and peter were the god parents for morgan 😭 thor was with every step of your healing, he thought leaving your side was a bad idea. Or he just missed you over the years lol.

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

Tags

@animealways // @white-wolf-buckaroo // @tonystark-au // @yummyangy // @zebralover // @carellmcu

#thor odinson x daughter reader #thor odinson #daughter!reader #infinity war #reader insert #avengers #loki laufeyson #uncle loki #frigg #dad!thor odinson #marvel mcu #mcu

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sarcasticsweetlara · 1 year ago

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In the forest

Son of Frigg!Jun x Huldra!Reader

GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Magical au

...

Wén Jùnhuī was the most beautiful being in the world according to you.

Alongside the tweeting and chirps of the birds, the forest was filled with the humming of a sweet voice.

Waking up to Jun’s humming was a habit you would never get tired of.

“I think that people should wake up to pleasant sounds, that way their days, especially their mornings will feel better” Had been Jun’s comment one day. His voice could be soft and at the same time so powerful.

As it was early his voice rang through the whole forest, clearly the son of Frigg was an early bird, something he was also famous for.

“Junhui, while your voice is amazing I have to tell you that this time you really came early” You said while rubbing your eyes and as your tail disentangled itself and moved a little.

“What can I tell you? I broke my record, my mother likes this habit of mine as she says I am the best at managing a household.

Jun was the son the queen Frigg had created that she said would help her seek harmony and particularity in the world.

“Is this your way of saying you will let me go to the Fensalir today?”

“Is this your way of telling me you will let me see your tricks today?” Jun replied by singing your name in a mellifluous melody.

You groaned as your tail swiveled side to side and you pouted as you thought if you should show him your new tricks you had been practicing.

Finally after pondering you nodded.

You hopped off from your spot on the tree and landed on the floor and you quickly made a triple cart-wheel in the air making it seem as a dance smoothly choreographed.

“Wow, it was like you were dancing in the sky, I think the elves have competence now” Jun snickered as he recalled one time you had fought some greedy elves.

“They better watch out or I will take Alfheim from them.” You chucklee imagining the looks on their faces.

“Okay, now if you want to, I will show you my new addition to the Fensalir, it's a room full of lights of different colors, you will like this one …” As you left - vanishing into thin air - some of the sparkle of both Junhui’s and your presence dropped and spread through the air, dew, many would say, but it was a sign of the magic that filled the world.

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123forgottherest · 1 year ago

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I love this so much! I have been reading it again and again over th years. It makes me so happy i love loki and the way you've written him.

THANK YOU SO MUCH

“I already have no pants on-“ “NO!” 😂😂😂

you asked for it @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @iamverity @skydiving-without-a-parachute

domestic dad loki topped with a dollop of fluffy breeding kink yeah that’s a thing

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

Two kids.

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#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki fluff #loki breeding kink #domestic!loki #dad!loki #loki lime #loki requests #loki fanfiction #loki drabbles #loki laufeyson #elliot lokason #frigg lokadóttir #adorable #favorite

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apiswitchcraft · 6 months ago

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understanding norse runes: a historical and modern perspective pt. 1

This is going to be a three part series, each one covering a different aett of the Elder Futhark runes. We will not be covering the "reversed" or "murk stave" interpretations, because that is largely up to the reader to discern depending on orientation and arrangement when pulled. I'll make another post about the act of drawing runes for divination, but that isn't what this is. What this is is each rune's respective Anglo-Saxan, Norwegian, and Icelandic word poems (when available), the summarized interpretation, and associated deities.

For part two click here, part 3 here.

ᚠ fehu

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Wealth be by all very much welcomed:

Each man shall deal it out freely,

If he will from the Lord get approval"

NORWEGIAN:

"Wealth causes trouble among relatives

The wolf is raised in the forest"

ICELANDIC:

"Wealth is trouble among relatives

and fire of the sea

and path of the serpent"

INTERPRETATION: With the literal meaning being "cattle," this rune can also be wealth or gold. Also more literally, "fehu" is the source of the power of Frigg and Freyja, who are seeresses. Freyja, too, is most often associated with the golden necklace Brisingamen, whereas Freyr is associated with fertility and harvest (which leads to monetary gain). A rune of creation or creativity, this could represent anything from the creation from life or art, to money or social status. Especially when surrounded by runes of caution, however, this stave encourages us not to abuse our power, our money, our knowledge, etc. To avoid conflict (as arises in the Norwegian and Icelandic poems), it must be shared generously and used with wisdom. Often seen as representing raw, untamed power, there is a certain level of risk or effort that must go in to obtaining the metaphorical pot of gold. Regardless, the person is encouraged to take risks, to enter the unknown if available, and be prepared to "tame the wild," so to speak. As the first rune in the Elder Futhark, this rune is more than just "wealth" or "fertility," it's the process, the exchange of energy, that leads to the creation of these aspects. Therefore, in a reading, one might see this as more than just the end goal, but a reminder for seek balance when between prosperity and richness of life when building our future.

KEY WORDS: abundance, wealth, new beginnings, creation, success

ASSOCIATIONS: Freyr (who may be the "Lord" referred to in the Anglo-Saxan poem), Freyja, and possibly Frigg (especially when you consider that Frigg and Freyja are commonly conflated with one another)

ᚢ uruz

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Aurochs is fearless and greatly horned,

A very fierce beast, it fights with its horns,

A famous roamer of the moor, it is a very courageous animal."

NORWEGIAN:

"Slag comes from poor iron

Often the reindeer runs over the hard-frozen snow."

ICELANDIC:

"Drizzle is weeping of the clouds

and destructions of the hay-harvest

and abhorrence of the herdsman."

INTERPRETATION: With the literal meaning of "Aurochs" (or wild cow), "drizzle," or "slag," the uruz rune seems to have some contradiction when it comes to ancient interpretations. However, taking the Norse creation myth as written in the Prose Edda, we can start to make connections. In the Younger Edda, before Midgard was made, Muspelheim and Niflheim already existed. And when the rivers of Niflheim travelled far enough, it's "yeasty venom" hardened like slag, and condensed into a drizzle of rain which cooled into rime. Later, when the giant Ymir and the cow Audhumla thaw out of the frost at the edge of Muspelheim, Audhumla licks away that rime to reveal the first god. Thus we come to the modern interpretation, which is primordial power and manifestation. If fehu is the opportunity to create, uruz is the act of that creation happening. If fehu is cattle, then uruz is those cattle turned to fierce oxen to protect their land. It is the act of going back, or turning inward. Thus, this tells us that we may need to do some introspection, to find the will to go on within ourselves. Empty the page and let it fill again, burn away weakness and leave behind only pure vitality, pure drive. Also, it can be the twin power of shaping and nourishment knowledge, health, or luck.

KEY WORDS: growth, transformation, endurance,

ASSOCIATIONS: Audhumla

ᚦ thurisaz

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Thorn is most sharp, for every thane

who grasps it, it is harmful, exceeding cruel

To every man who rests among them."

NORWEGIAN:

"Thurs causes illness in women:

few rejoice at bad luck."

ICELANDIC:

"Thurs is the torment of women,

and the dweller in the rocks(/cliffs),

and the man(/husband) of Vardh-runa."

INTERPRETATION: The rune of Thor, this rune's literal meaning is in its name as "thurs"--meaning a primordial being, especially a Jotun. In the cases of the above rune poems, thurs represents a more imminent threat, like a disease causing entity. In modernity though, this rune represents action, potency, raw power, and physical strength, of which Thor embodies well. Also representing chaos (and sometimes even conflict) this rune can be one invoked for magic, especially chthonic or dark magic. Furthermore, this rune is one that links the power of the physical and spiritual realms, as Thor often does himself. In this vein, thurisaz can advise a diviner to seek balance in the regions where chaos reigns, whether that be a relationship, job, or otherwise. Be careful, though, and do not wander aimlessly into the dark, this rune forbodes not only a force of protection, but a force of destruction as well. Someone who is unskilled or undereducated may need to wisen up before making use of this rune in a practical manner, like a spell or sigil. It may also be considered a rune that represents sexual potency or pure eroticism, especially as it is a symbol of masculine potency.

KEY WORDS: strength, courage, eroticism, chaos, magic

ASSOCIATIONS: Thor, the Jotnar

ᚨ ansuz

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Mouth is the chieftain of all speech

mainstay of wisdom, comfort to wise ones

for every noble earl hope and happiness."

NORWEGIAN:

"River mouth is the way of most journeys:

but a scabbard of swords."

ICELANDIC:

"Ase is the olden-father (Odin),

Asgard's chieftain,

and the leader of Valholl (Valhalla)."

INTERPRETATION: The ansuz rune has two literal interpretations seen above: god and mouth. To connect these two you just have to look at the Icelandic rune poem that references Odin: chief of the aesir and creator of language. In this way, ansuz is often seen as representing Odin, but also his many aspects: language, poetry, wisdom, occult mastery, magic. As master of the runes, Odin represents everything the staves do: life, death, and the in-between. Understanding and intellectualism built on the mysteries of these aspects is not only encouraged but embodied by the ansuz rune. It tells us to try to emulate Odin in our everyday way, forcing ourselves into a cycle of forever change (as uncomfortable as it may be) and constant learning. To be clear, in a reading this may not always be some sort of calling from Odin, but a call from his domains. Of course, seek the path that works best for you, but there could be something calling you to use the powers of persuasion, your talent in poetry/song, etc.

KEY WORDS: communication, language, mental power, a message

ASSOCIATIONS: Odin, the Aesir

ᚱ raidho

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Riding is in the hall for a warrior

soft, more strenuous when astride

A great stallion pounding the long mile paths."

NORWEGIAN:

"Riding is said to be worst for horses;

Regin forged the best sword."

ICELANDIC:

"Riding is the joy of the rider

and a speedy journey,

and the labor of the horse."

INTERPRETATION: Raidho, or "ride"/"riding" is a rune of action and change. Less chaotic than ansuz, raidho emulates the soothing rhythm of a car (chariot/horse if we're being historically accurate) ride, the logician in a nation's leadership, the institutions of our schooling. However, it also calls for plans to be made, a path to be carved before it is walked. In this way, it can also mean the just, moral, or ethical path is being suggested to the reader. Feeling the call to use baneful magic? Perhaps delay it in favor of something more productive for yourself. Or don't, it's up to you. In some ways, this rune also represents the sun, as in its travel across the sky, and the potential and vitality it promises. Either way, action is necessary, and the righteous path is the one to follow.

KEY WORDS: order, structure, journey, ethics/morals, progress

ASSOCIATIONS: Sleipnir

ᚲ kenaz

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Torch to the living familiar aflame,

Is blinding and brilliant, it burns most often

Where royal folk within are resting."

NORWEGIAN:

"Sore is fatal to children:

Death makes a corpse pale."

ICELANDIC:

"Sore is the bale of children

And a scourge,

And the house of rotten flesh."

INTERPRETATION: Kenaz, again, has two different meanings in the runic poems: torch and sore (like a blister). This time, though, the difference seems to be for purely etymological reasons, and has little to do with a story. The only slight association I've seen pointed out is that both of these things are warm? Either way, fire is the primary meaning. From from we can discern deeper meanings, like energy and divine inspiration. Fire brings light and clarity, but can also burn and destroy. Perhaps you seek to know the future, but you are only willing to accept it if it's positive. Allow it to burn, to warm you to the deepest depths of your bones, to inspire you to create, like the fire of a forge. Let it fill you with vitality and stamina (especially sexually). Let it purify you as it purifies the dead on a pyre. It may also work to protect you, as a campfire does for the lonesome traveler. If left untended, however, it can cause death, suffering, a malady that will only worsen as it continues to be untended.

KEY WORDS: Knowledge, sexuality, creativity, clarity

ASSOCIATIONS: Freyja

ᚷ gebo

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Giving, to all men, brings credit and honor

help and worthiness--and to every outcast

is the estate and substance, that have naught else."

INTERPRETATION: As the letter "G" does not exist in Younger Futhark, we only have to deal with one potential meaning of gebo: "gift." Specifically, the balanced art of giving and receiving. Not only should one receive gifts gracefully, but reciprocate generously to friends, family, ancestors, and the gods. And that doesn't just mean physical gifts: but an exchange of energy, of time. Gifts are not simply bribes or meaningless gestures, but sacrifices and an exchange of loyalty. In a religious context, this does not just imply the act of constant sacrifice with no return from the gods. In Norse culture, the relationship between god and man went both ways. At Ragnarok, heroes would fight for the gods, as in life they would give up their time/energy/resources in offering. In exchange the gods would fight alongside us, and give gifts in return. Because of the sexual/romantic associations with reciprocity, gebo is commonly associated with the Freyr, Freyja, and Frigg. Furthermore, because of Odin's self-sacrifice to receive knowledge and wisdom, it is strongly associated with him as well.

KEY WORDS: gift, exchange, reciprocity, generosity, sacrifice

ASSOCIATIONS: Freyja, Freyr, Frigg, Odin

ᚹ wunjo

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Joy is for one who knows little of woe,

pains and sorrows, and to him who has

power and bliss and buildings good enough."

INTERPRETATION: Similar to gebo, since "W" does not appear in the Younger Futhark, wunjo is only given the one meaning: "joy." Now, where to start with this rune. Yes, simply, wunjo means happiness. But how do you define happiness? Is it social fulfillment: familial, platonic, romantic, sexual? Is it the simple things: reading a good book, seeing beautiful scenery, or drawing a picture? Is it ecstasy or is it purely innocent pleasures? What makes your life a blissful one, what do you desire? Or, simply, is it the ability to cope with pain? Does joy exist where suffering is absent? Or, like a good love story, does it have to hurt a little to be true? In some ways, this rune can simply be thought of as a balance between good and bad, our inner and outer selves. Truly knowing oneself, and knowing others; healing from trauma or emotional pain; an end to conflict. With divination, it would be best to look at the surrounding runes in order to interpret where this "joy" could be stemming from. Or, even more, it should be used to comment on other runes. If you pull isa but there is a wunjo next to it, you can assume that the meaning of isa to be more positive.

KEY WORDS: joy, harmony, success, celebration, security

ASSOCIATIONS: none, all gods have their joyous sides

SOURCES:

"Taking Up the Runes" by Diana L. Paxson

Labyrinthos

and two unnamed books bc i found out after buying them that the authors are bigots

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togetherhearted · 8 months ago

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RoR Odin is my favorite character. I love how mysterious and dark he is, but I wish there was more content of him. I’ve only seen a little, and it's making me sad 😭. Would it be okay to request an Odin x Frigg fic? I don't like to ship myself with characters who are canonically married or have a lover. But if you only write x reader fics, maybe you could do Odin x Frigg reader instead?

There are so many characters that deserve so much love. I'm all in for giving Odin the appreciation he deserves! And I hope this is fine!

ODIN X FRIGG!READER

-My dearest- The goddess glanced behind her shoulders. The man, her imponent and brooding husband entered their shared bedrooms. -I get you had a fruitful day- -Indeed I have- The fertility goddess's smile grew wider on her face -The miracle of life never ceases to amaze me- Odin sat next to his wife. His coat is now off and put on the back of his chair. -That's wonderful. I'm glad you could assist- The goddess gave a quick nod of her head before bumping it against his shoulder. A playful nudge. Odin glanced down at her and let out a scoff, not an annoyed one. -I guess you want a reward for doing a good job?- His wife bit her lips. A soft giggle left her. -Perhaps- The god shook his head -As you wish- Without a word, Odin took her in his imponent arms and carried her back to bed. - You know affection is not my forte but cuddle it is, for tonight- The goddess thanked him for trying. A night of cuddles sounded perfect to end an already good day.

#x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror #snv #odin #odin x reader

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widget117 · 3 months ago

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Guide to the Edda

I am by no means an expert, but I AM a proud literature buff 💪 📢

The Poetic Edda is a collection of Norse myths divided into four parts:

The Prologue: differing from the other parts of the Edda in terms of structure, subject and information, the Prologue relates Norse stories to those of the Graeco-Romans, hoping to make it's reader take it more seriously (the Edda was written down in the time of Christianity entering Iceland, so this isn't too surprising). It's unclear whether the Prologue was a part of the original texts, or if it was added only with the scribing of the Edda itself, in order to relate to a medieval Christian audience by drawing connections to familiar Christian concepts.

The Gylfaginning: the "core" of the Edda. It is our best source of the Creation story, struggles of Gods and events leading to Ragnarok. It is written as a dialogue between King Gylfi of Sweden and three god-like figures. Gylfi disguies himself as a traveller and journeys to visit the Æsir (the Norse Gods). The three god-like figures are three manifestations of Odin, who Gylfi questions on the order of the Norse Pantheon and the formation of the world.

The Skaldskaparmal: the stories in this section of the Edda give mostly background and explanation for references in Old Norse verse. The Skaldskaparmal gives us stories of heroes, dragon slayers and whatnot.

The List of Metres/Hattatal: undoubtedly composed by Snorri Sturluson himself as an attempt to make himself amicable with the Norwegian King, the Hattatal is a work of 102 stanzas that demonstrate poetics metres and devices. It's a pretty obscure section and is often left out of translations.

The Prose Edda serves as a "how to read Norse poetry" guide for medieval scholars. It's more or less just a couple hundred pages of "here's what's up"

Æsir

The Norse Gods are separated into two groups: the Æsir and the Vanir, who are pretty consistently at war with each other until they eventually fuse into just one group, taking on the name "Æsir" to mean all Norse Gods. The Æsir live in Asgard and rarely quarrel over humans or heroes. They don't like being immortal, either.

The Æsir commonly represent war.

Ex) Odin, Thor, Týr, Frigg

Vanir

The Vanir are Gods of fertility, wisdom and prophecy. Their home is Vanaheimr. After the Æsir-Vanir War, they become a subgroup of the Æsir.

Ex) Freya, Freyr, Njord

Other Creatures

Giants/Jötnar

The Jötnar live in contrast to the Gods (sometimes called "Anti-Gods"); Loki is often considered a Jötunn. There are many names for these entities (Trolls, risi, gýgr, tröllkona, þursar). The connotations for Jötnar become less cool and more evil as Christianity enters the picture, and these beings are not necessarily very large, as the name "giant" might have you expect.

Ex) Hrungnir, Fárbauti, Gerðr

Elves

The Edda mentiones Elves mostly in passing. Though their presence is scarce, it is implied that they held a lot of importance in original Scandinavian myths. There are different types of Elves, such as light and dark, and there are place names connected to them.

As in most mythologies including Elves, they are beautiful, dangerous and magical creatures.

Dwarves

Dwarves are pretty negative creatures in the Norse myth. They were the first of all creatures who live in the flesh of the giant Ymir. The Gods, for some reason unbeknownst to us, changed the nature of the Dwarves so that they "assumed the likeness of men" and started dwelling below the ground.

The reason for changing them may have to do with smithing. The Gods were the earliest master smiths, but abandoned forging and left it to the Dwarves.

Valkyries

Odin's gang of Valkryies decide which fallen Norse heroes are allowed into Valhalla (Odin's hall in Asgard, where the most prominent of the Gods are allowed their own halls, such as Freya or Frigg, etc). Valkryies sometimes appear as lovers of heroes or mortals, even as royalty.

Ex) Brynhildr, Sigrún, Göndul

Monsters

From here on out, classification would take me all goddamn day. Besides the aforementioned, you have your serpents, dragons, lindworms, beasts of battle, draugrs, nixies, selkolla, lyngbakr, hafgufa and hamingja.

The Wild Hunt of Odin — Peter Nicolai Arbo

#norse mythology #poetic edda #prose edda #norse gods #jötunn #vanir #aesir

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thewritetofreespeech · 8 months ago

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RoR Odin is my favorite character. I love how mysterious and dark he is, but I wish there was more content of him. I’ve only seen a little, and it's making me sad 😭. Would it be okay to request an Odin x Frigg fic? I don't like to ship myself with characters who are married or have a lover. But if you only write x reader fics, maybe you could do Odin x Frigg reader instead?

Odin x Reader

It was dark in his chambers. Save for the flicker of faces on the screen. The illuminati pixels like modern candlelight as the Father of Norse gods stared at it. The quite rage of a storm still sinking in his chest after what happened at the meeting.

“You seem troubled husband.” Odin’s good eye turned towards the door as both true light and his wife came in. “What burdens you?”

“Is this your doing?” Was all he asked in return.

Understandably, Frigg seemed perplexed, but then looked at the screen where the preparations for Ragnarök were being displayed. “Oh wow…good on Hilde…”

Odin grumbled and his wife just chuckled, “this was not my doing. I’m just pleased she actually listened to all those lessons.” Though Freya was the leader of the Valkyries, his wife was also quite fond of their battle maidens. Mothering the young charges to their new godhood as was her namesake. “You seem irritated.”

“Who would not be. To be challenged by my own and embarrassed like this in front of our peers with this blasphemy.

“I don’t think that’s Hilde’s intentions, my love.” Frigg assured him. Sitting on the right arm of his chair by his side. “She believes the humans should have a chance. And, it is their right.”

“You think they will win then?”

“Who knows,” was just her cryptic message. Then she lifted her hand to smooth over his hair in a loving, soothing fashion. “It has been too long since we have given the husband the trials of their forefathers. I think you forget the struggles they over came in the face of our fury.”

“Our fury and us are two different things.” Odin reasoned.

“True,” she agreed, “but I stand by that it is their right to struggle. Let them fight. Let them try. It’s all we have ever truly asked of them.” His wife then stood and leave him to prepare. “Promise me you will not participate in this though.” As someone who taught Brunhilde of the fight, Frigg also knew the consequences of losing.

Odin looked at her, then back to the screen. “It should not come to that, but fine.”

His wife seemed pleased and left again. Perhaps to watch the fights. Perhaps to ignore them in solace. But, they would happen either way. Odin hoped that it would not come to his own fight in the end to teach ‘Hilde’ a lesson himself.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok scenarios #record of ragnarok imagine #ror scenarios #ror imagine #ror odin #record of ragnarok odin #odin x reader

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chantsdemarins · 1 year ago

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The Breath of the Æsir 🏰 (Loki x Reader) Chapter 2: The Stranger

Okay friends, I re-wrote Chapter 2. I was not happy with it after a friend pointed out to me that it needed work. Making me remember I really need a beta reader! *Any takers?

I hope those who might have read the first one will give this version a try!! As always reblogging and comments are the most amazing experience for me as a writer in this community. Thank you for reading and waiting. I am trying to get on a schedule I can stick to!

Summary: This is Loki's side of the story so far, as the world he finds himself in stirs into turmoil. What will the nature of your relationship be under these circumstances?

Smut Meter: Calm wildfire status

Word Count: 3,141 (give or take)

Loki

Loki was hiding among the Æsir. His true origin was not of theirs. Fárbauti, a frost giant, had been responsible for pulling him out of the tight silence and into form, so he could live among the Gods. A thin agreement had occurred between Odín and the Jötunn. This agreement was unknown to Loki. Odín would raise him. All his life, stirring in his veins was the blood of another people, another realm. The ornate mirrors in Asgard reflected back to him the image of a handsome spell caster with Æsir features. There was only ever the slightest feeling, that perhaps, his near-constant discontent, was related to the architecture of a family lie.

He knew where there was limitation, there was often equal illumination. Therefore, this conflict gave Loki insight into many aspects of the universe, some of which he would never have known had he not been born for deceit. This dual vision of light and dark created a natural and gradual buildup of powers, which he had no reason not to abuse. Where he lacked morals, he was tempered by circumstance back into some code of character that appeased both his father and whatever party he had offended by his lack of grace and concern. However, from time to time, something would cause him to change, more permanently, more absolutely. These events were so profound when they happened that the Skalds, both in Asgard and Midgard, told of them. Sometimes humans would be caught in the lava of the Gods' path. You were one of those humans. The day Loki lay close to one of his possible deaths, you had found him.

He was banished because he had seen enough. His contrary disposition had rejected the Northman’s insistence on placing his royal family at the heart of their bloody conquest. Thor, Freyja, Frigg—and Odín—had been brought deep into the conflict moving across the belly of Midgard. They used incantations and sacrifices to move the will of the Gods in their favor. Loki disliked this immensely. He did not like to be appeased with tokens. The ground of Asgard was saturated with the blood of Midgard. This disturbed him so much and ate at his being until he could stand it no longer. He cursed Thor, cursed Odín for the part they played in encouraging such worship.

In the throes of his discontent, Loki quickly discovered a God cannot have everything. For example, he could not have his opinion and his magic. Odín told him to go see for himself. Go see why the humans needed the Gods. See their fragility and need for guidance. He would be begging him to return to Asgard. “Go experience their ignorance with only a sword to protect you from it,” Odín had said to him.

When Loki decided to take a great risk, a great calamitous excitement would concurrently erupt. His enduring life and the lives of the Gods needn’t be so pristine and eternal. He longed for the shorter life of the Midgardians. He wanted to feel what life would be like if you only had a few years before you became permanent food for the beetles and worms. He needed to feel time slipping away from his grasp. So, without any seiðr, he nakedly stepped through the Bifrost and fell to Earth, fell to the home of the Midgard serpent, one of his many children, of which he was not the only father.

When he opened his eyes and began to walk across the hillside, so indulgently green it hurt. He took a moment and said a prayer to the elemental spirits that spun such colors into life on Midgard. They were independent of any God's influence, even ones with their full powers. The elementals were bonded to Midgard herself as servants. Loki could only admire their spinning of forms; he still had incredible vision even without any magic. He could see into their structural design and could listen to the hum of their cellular respiration. Loki was not the God of such things as fertility, but he felt himself in a keen understanding of it. He truly saw his station in the nine realms as a God responsible for making life, more than the ending of it. Not that any of the Gods would ever understand this about him. Creators often end up destroying their most precious creations just because they can. Loki had come to Midgard to change this.

He walked with careful trepidation; he was mortal now, and even though his heart soared with the thrill of his new lot, he did not want his tenure on Earth to be over so quickly. So, he cautiously guarded his path over the verdant hillside in the quiet of the afternoon. Things were seemingly calm, still, which actually began to worry Loki. Silence could mean only two things: peace or death. As he continued walking to gain a better view, he encountered a sight he was not prepared to see just yet. The ruins of a village burned in a heavy cascade of smoke. He quickly remembered he had no power to change the circumstances before him. He thought of Thor—would he truly celebrate this use of his name? He wished they would have the courage to do as he did, to come and see the work of the humans. Loki would have to be the eyes of the gods this time. Just as his contemplation ended, he felt the ground beneath him bend in a rhythmic flutter—horses. It was the same in any realm; the beasts were among the most powerful of all creations. Some could even fly, but not these. These heavy beasts carried their masters, who likely spotted him from their outposts.

They saw a stranger overlooking their burned village and identified him as one of the raiders, one of the pillagers, not as the God who made such acts possible. He looked up just in time to see a sword brandished by one of the riders. With a quick and skillful blow, he was impaled in his stomach. It had only been a few hours since his arrival, and already he was vanquished by the Norns. He fell, consumed by defeat and physical pain, his armor pierced. They spoke in their language, seemingly arguing whether they should take him captive. Perhaps they would have if they had not just suffered such a great loss. They left him to die and rode away without looking back.

The Encounter

Loki was consumed with a pain he had never felt before; it was completely debilitating. No sooner had he arrived on Midgard as a human he was swept away into the saga of their fragility. He couldn’t believe he was once so interested to experience this, to feel his life expiring and his pulse weaken. His heart was slowing, and every breath felt like he was uncertain if yet another would follow. He now worried that if he were to die on Midgard like this, his death would remain unknown, and his family would not find him before the vultures tore the newly minted mortal flesh from his bones. He fell into a fever quickly and began to dream of the frozen landscapes of his true birth home, of Jötunheim. His Asgardian façade was fading with every labored breath.

It was just his luck that as he could take no further steps, he reached the courtyard lined with thorny gorse, which pierced the white of his skin as he fell through the yellow flowers, leaving droplets of blood forming from yet another location other than his stomach. He called out something from a tongue he knew from Midgard, although he knew not where and when it was from. He saw you in the doorway before he closed his eyes; he wasn’t sure if he would open them again. He hoped that if he did, you would be there beside him. It was the tiniest of wishes; he was sure you were a Valkyrie. Not having enough blood in his veins to remember there were no Valkyries on Earth, his eyes shut, and the world of Midgard faded from his senses.

He had felt the jostling of stitches, the pulling of thread against his taut skin. He saw you, Valkyrie, with golden threads weaving his wound closed. He swore he heard you tell him his body was a tapestry, one you could embroider. He laughed at the thought of being sewn together by a fierce battle goddess of the nine realms. He worried about his weakness. He did not like the vulnerability that consumed him as he fought to return to the living. Part of him remembered the icy cold feeling of space he once felt as he let go of Thor and drifted off into the void, only to be intercepted by a race of beings so deadly and diabolical, he knew he wouldn’t be able to die enough times to satisfy their lust for power and domination. Part of him rested in the knowledge that you would make him whole again. The Norns had led him to a warrior who was also a weaver, a tailor.

He Lives, for Now

"Gef þú seiðr þinn mér," Loki mumbled once he was finally able to awaken. Sweat covered his face. A chill coursed through him. You had saved him just as he had predicted. He was still alive, but he was not yet well at all. "What is seiðr?" you immediately asked. You did not have what this man was asking for, and you would not be robbed of what you did have. Leaping to your feet, you grabbed the knife you had uncovered from his person while the man slept. Loki found himself once again at the receiving end of iron—only this time, it was his own.

"How quickly I forgot this is how people communicate, regardless of their station," Loki mused, clutching his stomach, fingers running along your needlework which now adorned him. "Communicate? Sir, you are in my home. I saved your life, and now you ask me for something else. What else could you want, unless you are the thief and murderer my servants say you are? Are they right? Have you come to kill us?" Your voice was a barely audible trill, but every vowel entered his ear as if it were a drum beating away shadows inside of him. You looked so shaky and unsure Loki was immediately disoriented.

As a Valkyrie, you would be more skillful, potentially than him. Why were you not wielding your own blade? Loki’s mind puzzled in a million different directions. In the chosen tongue, he rattled off an inquiry about where he was, now remembering he was on Earth as he came to. He needed you to confirm it. You told him the name of this small village, and Loki more solidly realized you were actually a human woman, seemingly. He found his voice hidden beneath the swell of feelings rising in his chest. "Do you know how to use that knife, woman? Don't wield something you aren't prepared to use, and why would you undo your handiwork?" Loki pointed to the careful stitches across his body. "You know me not, sir," you retorted. "I have unraveled nearly all the needlework I started. I have thrashed threads from one tapestry to another; I have no finished embroidery to show for it, so sir, flicking the threads that hold your guts in would be no long consideration."

The words that flew out of your mouth betrayed all your education and training. Never in your life had you spoken to a man like this, not to your father and surely never to your husband, but this man seemed to be able to feel and hear anything you might say. You didn’t know why you knew that, but you did. Perhaps it was the sewing him up that gave you such a perspective. The candlelight study of his stomach. You thought of the fine line that jutted across his abdomen where you had let your fingers trace in a kind of stoic appreciation for a moment while applying your stitches to his wound. You suspected your husband’s stomach did not have muscular curvature. The stranger was the first man you’d ever seen naked. You let yourself consider that for the briefest of moments before you returned to your senses and your defense of your home. By no means had you an understanding of just who this man was and what he was capable of even in his weakened state.

Loki continued to consider your origins. You could not be a simple incarnation of a human. Perhaps you were actually Asgardian, another traveler like himself, grown discontent with the trappings of the ethereal realm and transplanted to Midgard. He had known others who had come; his idea of leaving had not been a unique one. The Norns might have given him some grace after all, by leading him to you. Yet if you were a fragile mortal with a much shorter life than his, you wore your timeline with such grace, that it completely startled him. You were closer to the end of your short life than the beginning, perhaps you knew this and were prepared to defend what little you had accumulated. Or maybe it was something else that inspired such bold words. "What do they call you?" you finally spoke again, daring to continue. "Loki." His name was a rune itself, a spell, the only magic he had left. He wondered if you would feel its power. "Loki," you repeated, his name flowed from your heart to your feet, causing your body to feel heavy. You landed on the velvet living room chair with a crash. Loki, who had been situated in the other chair, leaped up beyond the ability his body should have allowed. "Woman," he said, daring to near you. "Please wake." He had not expected you to faint.

As he drew closer to you, he wasn't sure if you had fainted or passed to some other realm. You looked so peaceful. He held your head and for a moment dared to place a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your eyes struggled to open. "Loki," you murmured, not having heard the name before, but its composition—the four sounds—collided, perhaps stealing your breath. His concern for you was evident on his face, but it quickly faded, replaced by something akin to fear. Loki was startled by how swiftly Midgard's emotions were becoming his own. He had known so little of fear and now he was becoming proficient in all its shades and hues.

Suddenly a deep knock on the door and frantic voices could be heard from outside in the courtyard. A group of tenants had gathered, yelling and frantic. Perhaps the worst of your fears had materialized. Not only were you harboring a man, but now the townsfolk knew and had come to confront you about it in your husband’s absence. You did not want to open the door. You glanced at Loki, who had stepped further back into the darkness of the living room while you found your footing. "Lady, you should answer them," Loki's voice was a mere shadow, yet you trusted it to your surprise. Elinor was also nowhere to be found, and you were once again left to make decisions by yourself. This introduction with the stranger would have to further wait. With all your strength, you walked across the room and unlocked the large, heavy door. Before you could open it fully, the crowd of tenants crashed into your home and fell against you. There were strict conditions under which the manor lords ruled, and such an intrusion was likely less a group coming to judge your guest but one of desperation you immediately recognized.

You gasped for air and tried to calm them, beseeching one of the tenants to explain what had happened. "They are here, the slaughter wolves," Æthaldan, the young blacksmith, finally spoke wildly. The rest of their voices were a blur, a scattered cacophony you couldn't decipher. The "slaughter wolves," who sought to take the land you managed, had been kept at bay by bribe or sword wielded in temporary acts to push them back, to change their minds about the worth of the land. Words had been spoken by the manor lords about the rocky soil being no better than the soils of where they came. Their crops would not find purchase here either. You knew this to be true in your heart since your land had been barren, and that barrenness had crept into all places of your marriage, including your womb. Nothing but the yellow gorse you had planted around the periphery had grown.

Suddenly from behind the crowd, you heard the sound of your closest companion, "What are we to do?" Elinor had been able to come back to the manor from where she had been in the village; she was now frantic as well as she pushed Æthaldan and the others out of her way to get to you. You surveyed the tenants, as you embraced your friend; none had weapons worthy of the name. One held a reaping iron, another something procured from the hearth, likely nothing in comparison to the weapons of the intruders. You needed time to think, but there was none. You looked down at the weapon you had lifted from the stranger while he slept. You had nearly forgotten you were holding it, clasped tightly in your hand. You tried to hide it in your skirt pockets, but it was clear no one had noticed what you were holding in their panic, not even Elinor.

"Please keep them safe until I return!" you finally shouted at your friend, knowing the best she could do was bolt the door once everyone was inside. Your instructions were curt, "Call to the others, have them come to the house," your voice trailed off as you ran through the corridor of the manor, looking for the stranger. You wondered where he had gone; he was still injured but not knowing his nature of intent you imagined all possible things as you searched for him in the curtained darkness of your halls. Your thoughts ceased when you came upon his nearly collapsed form; he was barely able to stand. Without thinking further, you handed him back his knife, taking his hand and placing it to it, folding his fingers around the hilt. "Help us now, I saved you, now you save us," you demanded. "This is your weapon, use it,” you reiterated when you noticed he was not stirred to action. His blue eyes were crestfallen, “Lady, I cannot,” were his words before he handed the blade back to you.

#loki #tom hiddleston #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fandom #loki fanfic #mcu #loki fluff #loki smut #loki x reader #norse aesthetic #norse mythology #norse pantheon #norse gods #norse paganism

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yanderes-galore · 2 years ago

Note

Since there's no God of War fic here yet, could you write somwthing for Freya/Frigg (her obssession can start with the 2018 game and gets more intense in Ragnarok when she's an ally to Kratos). Reader helps Kratos on his journey and despises Odin as much as her, which makes her have a conection with them.

(This woman literally made her son immortal and invulnerable to almost everything just to protect him, imagine what she would do for her darling).

-🐻

Honestly, she's also quite an intense yandere. I'd love to! I utilized some of the plot elements you gave me but also just gave my general view of her as a yandere.

Yandere! Freya Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Fear of loss, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Isolation, Violence, Stalking, Trauma, Forced immortality, Self-destructive behavior, Paranoia, Dubious/Forced relationship.

Honestly, while Kratos is intense because he's brutal...

Freya is intense because she's smothering.

She, like Kratos, has lost many people close to her already.

Both of them have a fear of loss that drives them crazy.

Freya would meet you around the 2018 game.

Despite the distrusting nature of Kratos she sees you are an ally of him and his son.

You probably don't know much about Odin until Ragnarök's events take place.

That is unless you know about her legend and past... even then she may have to tell you about it.

You are right that Freya would go to great lengths to protect you.

She protected Baldur with a spell that made him immortal yet unfeeling, she healed Atreus...

If she cares for someone enough she'll do everything she can to protect them.

Even after Kratos kills her son she wouldn't hate you.

Freya is a motherly yandere who is suffocating with her affection.

She hasn't truly loved anyone as a spouse due to her experiences with Odin.

But she certainly has a connection to children.

When it comes to the one she loves she'll do everything in her power to protect them.

Considering how she's a God, that's a lot of power.

She would feel guilty and bad if her ways of protecting you made you unhappy, but she prefers that over losing you.

Don't be surprised if Freya gives you an immortality spell similar to Baldur's.

She may even try to keep you isolated just to hide you from Odin.

If you also hated Odin it only feeds into her feelings towards you.

Freya has trauma due to Odin.

As a result she views you as someone to cling to, someone to heal her inner pain.

Especially after the death of Baldur, her son.

While she is an ally to Kratos in the 2018 game she isn't as obsessed, she's protective but hasn't fallen for you fully yet.

After the death of Baldur she stalks you along with Kratos.

Freya hates that you still work with Kratos instead of siding with her.

Which only fuels her attempts of killing Kratos.

She means you no harm, yet I suggest not trusting any eagles.

She may just be watching.

Her obsession fully situates when she joins Kratos again.

She no longer wants to kill the man... plus she's a bit envious that he's around you all the time.

You're so much different than Odin... and you hate the man too.

As Ragnarök unfolds, Freya feels she needs you.

To her... you may be the cure for her trauma.

Because of this she begins to pursue you.

Now let me say this, Freya may be even harder to leave than Kratos.

She has many spells and tricks to her advantage.

She can disguise herself, make you immortal, isolate you....

If Freya feels there's a way to protect you she'll pursue it.

Even if you begin to hate her... Freya accepts it.

She loves you too much to just lose you.

She fears your death, she fears you running off...

She'd rather perish than give you up.

Speaking of which, Freya would sacrifice herself to protect you.

She could care less what happened to her at times, just as long as you're alive she's happy.

Freya can't wait until Odin is dead, honestly.

By the end of Ragnarök she's ready to make you her true spouse.

One she wishes to marry out of love... not out of obligation.

Freya can be extremely caring.

Being with her isn't too bad....

But since you most likely have the immortality spell on you, you can't feel much.

In fact... you feel a bit broken and frustrated.

Freya ends up recreating the pain she inflicted on her son with you.

You begin to resent her because she'd rather keep you safe than happy.

No matter how much she says she loves you, no matter how many kisses she gives you...

You feel nothing.

Yet Freya doesn't care in the end... because at least she has you... safe and sound.

#yandere god of war #yandere freya

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joelalorian · 10 months ago

Text

Wip Wednesday

Thank you lovelies @evolnoomym and @sizzlingcloudmentality for tagging me!

Yay! I made it on time. Booooo! I don't have any actual wips to share. I do have some things in the pipeline though...

Pero Tovar oneshot for @/spookymulderr's My Chemical Romance challenge. Set to the MCR song House of Wolves. I'm super intimidated by this one and don't even know where to start. I will get it done though, at some point.

Marcus Moreno x f!reader oneshot for @/perotovar's Offering of Frith challenge. The Norse God Frigg was the prompt. I have a vague idea about Marcus finding a Norse knot blessed by Frigg that needs some serious development.

Marcus Moreno x f!reader oneshot featuring reincarnation for @/burntheedges Roll-a-trope challenge. Two souls find each other under the stars in a past lifetime and again in this one.

Dave York x f!reader series - nanny reader is an aspiring writer and the local publication shared a short story of hers that is eerily similar to Dave's latest job. I really need to get started on this one as it's been on my mind for months.

Stepdad trope - I'm dying to write this for a Pedro boy but I'm terrified at the same time. Could be a oneshot or series if I ever grow a pair and finally do it.

No pressure tags (sorry if you've been tagged already!): @burntheedges @sp00kymulderr @perotovar @punkshort @mermaidgirl30 @sanarsi @thesummerpetrichor @hellfire-state-of-mind and any other lovelies who'd like to play

#wip tag game #wip wednesday #ppcu #someone make me write

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angelsworks · 2 years ago

Text

Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing

Chapter Two

Series Masterlist -> Here

Summary: How you came to be.

Warnings: 18+, ddlg themes, hints of little!reader, death of a family member, graphic descriptions of death, mentions of slavery, etc

Note: This is a description chapter with lots of backstory.

Born a Saxon. Raised a Dane. Now pretending to be a sorceress.

You had your reasons of course. Those reason also being Hakon’s. As to be expected as the clans chieftain. As your chieftain.

You remember little of your childhood. At a young age your settlement was raided by Hakon’s father and you amongst others were taken as Thrall, slaves to the clan.

It was a shield maiden called Frigg who had pity for you. The small snivelling girl, in a dress too thin for their weather. As you grew you heard what people thought of Frigg’s kindness. How they soured it with their own theories. Not too long before you were taken prisoner by the clan did Frigg lose her husband. The stress of which causes her unborn baby to pass on. From that people assumed the sight of a struggling young girl struck a cord with the shield maiden. Playing on her maternal instincts and the recent loss, causing her to take you in.

Whatever her reasons you did not care. She treated you even better than your own family did and you loved her dearly for it. Together you shared a small hut near Hakon and his family.

When Frigg and Hakon’s father would leave on raids you would stay with Hakon and his mother. Both were kind to you. It wasn’t long before the two of you became good friends.

As you grew the two of you would play in the wood and fight with sticks. Pretending to be your parents as you fought your many pretend enemies. All of which took the form of the lanky bark covered trees.

With Friggs help you learnt how to fight. To you she was a god in her own right, she was strong, fast and could use any weapon she got her hands on. Everyone in the clan knew what an asset Frigg was.

Through the many years of training with Frigg and Hakon you became good with a sword and axe. You had dreams of becoming a shield maiden just like Frigg.

On evening a few weeks after your sixteenth birthday you and Frigg went to hunt in the woods. It was a common occurrence for the two of you. It gave the two of you time to practice your archery skills.

While lying in wait for a deer you were ambushed by another group of Dane’s. One Hakon’s Father had raided once or twice. An act which created bad blood between the two of you. With only a bow an arrow between the two of you, you were outnumbered. No match for the four burly men with wrath in their eyes and iron in their hands.

With tears in her eyes Frigg pushed you towards the village, knowing your speed could get your far away and out of danger. She pleaded that you go and get help, to save yourself. But you knew if you left now you wouldn’t see again. With another push you wet running, adrenaline pumping through your body as you forced your legs to keep pounding on the Forrest floor.

When your reached the village you screamed out for help, the sound quickly drawing a crowd. You stutterer and stumbled over the words you wanted to say, your brain working into overdrive as panic ceased your body. Cursing yourself afterwards for not being more direct with your words.

A group of the clans best fighters was assembled and lead by Hakon’s father to the woods. Meanwhile you were sent to Hakon and his mother. The boy held you close as your cried for Frigg. The woman who had been your mother for the majority of your life.

You knew when they returned it wouldn’t be with Frigg alive. Despite the hours thinking about it, it still didn’t prepare you for the sight of her.

You once warm loving mother covered in blood and mud. Her body limp in Hakon’s fathers arms. As they passed you saw her eyes were open and staring at nothing.

The sight did nothing to stop your tears. Instead it only brought bile to your throat, making you bend over and spill your guts. Your body ceased as it was wrapped in rope. Tightly tied to the point you felt you couldn’t breathe.

Only a few days after Friggs death was her funeral. The clan stood around a clearing where a pyre was placed in the centre. On that wooden pyre was Friggs body, now cleaned and dressed and wrapped in white cloth for your benefit. It was your first time seeing a Dane funeral. Before the event Hakon had to explain what happened and what you would have to do.

In Dane tradition it was the next of kin who sent their fallen to Valhalla. Meaning it was down to you to light Friggs body so her spirit could enter the hall of warriors.

You knew this was what she wanted. But when it came down to it, to lighting her on fire, you ceased. Your hand shook as it hold the wooden torch, tears falling down your cheeks. With a final deep breath you held the torch under the pyre until the kindling caught fire.

From then until night you watched the fire grow and her body burn. It burned for days, until a storm put an end to the flames. For those days of fire you sat a distance away and watched. Wanting to watch her go.

After Friggs death you were lost. You didn’t want to eat, to sleep, to train. Previous dreams of being a shield maiden felt like wishes of another life. One where Frigg wasn’t dead and you could feel anything but grief again.

For your friend it was too much to see. The once soon to be shield maiden, taking after her mother figure, now lying in her tears each day and night. He saw that your eyes had become lifeless in the next few weeks after her life. The sight reminded him of Friggs own in his fathers arms. It was like you had become a walking corpse. Barely eating, barely sleeping, barely acknowledging the world around you.

The watching you and feeling helpless to your grief mounted on Hakon’s shoulders. The last straw for him was noticing how your figure had thinned and your once full face seemed hollow. Hollow of fat, hollow of life.

A night no different than all those after the funeral. A night spent crying in your bed, curled in on yourself. A night Hakon chose to confront you.

He practically barged into your hut angry with your behaviour. His words were harsh but they quickly melted into uneven tones and voice cracks as the boy almost cried. Throat tight as the guilt of watching his friend crumble and fade away in front of his eyes caught up with him in that moment. He felt helpless to your state. How could he help you when you didn’t want to help yourself?

Somewhere in the transition from angry to anguish, Hakon sat on your bed. Gingerly you crawled over to him, sitting on his lap and hugging him tightly. He wrapped his arms around you, tightly.

For the rest of the night the two of you didn’t move. Hakon had this affect on you. Being tightly wrapped in his arms made you feel like you weren’t about to fall apart. A contrast to how you’ve felt over the last few weeks.

You thought it would be a one time thing but the next night Hakon appeared in your home again. You sat and spoke sporadically. He held you again and that safe feeling washed over you once more.

It happened each night from then. Hakon holding you, speaking to you softly, making you feel safe, making you feel small. Occasionally, you’d reach a headspace where you wouldn’t talk much or would fiddle with his fingers.

For you it helped you heal heart from the grief that entrapped it. For Hakon he enjoyed only having to focus on one thing for a few hours, on you. It took him away from his duties in the Clan and helped him relax. Just in a different way to you.

Anyone could see that you were getting better. Finally eating, finally sleeping, finally starting to live again. During the day you’d train like you used to. This time without Frigg and with some of the other men and women in the clan. During the night you’d embrace your friend as you fell into a safe, smaller place.

At times you wondered if Hakon wanted to stop. After all he was close to manhood and spending his nights with you wasn’t all that exciting. Thoughts like those were cast aside by the boy. He promised he liked helping you, he told you that he enjoyed caring for you and if anything changed he would tell you.

When he sat with you in your hut he was your protector and you his little maiden.

Your night and day roles started to blur when Hakon’s father passed away. It was years after Friggs passing that the Chief of the clan died.

The shift in power lead to an ever growing need for Hakon in the village. It meant pushing his grief aside and dealing with the new responsibilities as Chief.

You supported him as your friend and as your Chief as well as you could. But it wasn’t enough. Soon Hakon asked for you during the day, during his meetings. You’d sit quietly on his lap like a little doll. To him you were his good luck charm, his stress reliever. You helped him get through the day.

Despite the odd looks at first you quickly got over it and enjoyed getting to be in your safe place more often. Anyone who had a problem with you and your practices had to deal with their new Chief.

It hasn’t been more than six moons when Hakon was truly tested as Chief.

A Fort belonging to an ailing lord was seen by scouts. They reported the holding having more people coming in and out. Merchants, traders and wanderers all travelling in and out of the previously quiet fort.

The new activity was noted by Hakon. It was then that his new idea was born. Or more accurately the new you was born.

He proposed you play a game of pretend. You would pretend to be a witch. You would spout spells and paint your face with runes and markings. All to add to the ruse Hakon wanted to create.

When traders would travel up and down the now active roads, you would appear and start your act. Effectively scaring the traders off with your threats of spells, while Hakon and the others would wait in hiding. When the traders and merchants and wanderers eventually ran from their wares, Hakon would lead the others to take the goods.

For a few weeks you’d stolen plenty and frightened many. So many in fact the tale of an evil witch was spread. Spread to nearby towns, to the traders on route to ironwood holding and most importantly to Ironwood himself.

The ailing Lord had no strength to retaliate, but his son did. The man was ten years your senior. You hadn’t seen him in person before but heard from scouts that the recent raids on traders had left a sour taste in his mouth.

The next few travellers carts were more heavily guarded. It took a few days to plan the next attack. This time you brought a few tricks with you.

This time you stood in the middle for the road. As a guarded cart rolled towards you, you threw a bottle of spirit on the floor. From somehere in the Forrest a flaming arrow set it alight.

As guards started to surround you you threatened that they stay away or else a curse would be placed upon them. They were skeptical, as most were that you came across. You started your chanting as you threw some soil into the fire. Frigg taught you that soil found near copper could change the colour of flames.

The green flames caused the unease in the men around you to rise. They fled from the scene quickly. Hakon and the others descended upon the now unguarded goods.

After returning the Clan celebrated their biggest take yet. A celebration that lasted all day and night. The high mood of the clan ended the next day. Word spread of the Old lords demise, which was being put down to you.

The now new Lord Ironwood had declared you the reason for his fathers dead. He’d put a bounty on your head and hired multiple mercenaries to do the job of bringing you to him.

The price on your head meant you were no longer safe going anywhere on your own. The stres of being hunted only put you in your safe place more often.

Under Hakon’s orders you weren’t to leave the village alone. When you did you had some of his best fighters following you.

No one had yet been successful in delivering you to the new, vengeful Lord. But you had a feeling your spell of evading his forces was about to be up.

Glossary:

Hakon - Meaning high born son

Frigg - Meaning beloved

#angelsworks post #dark #the last kingdom #yandere the last kingdom #uhtred of bebbanburg x reader #uhtred the last kingdom

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