#get to know freya

[freya-at-law]

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Disclaimer: This account is not run by a professional lawyer. This account exists because the mod brain said do it. Yes, as the mod, I will try my best to be factual and accurate.

But if you're having an actual legal problem in the real world, please reach out to an actual professional.

Thank you

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Name: Freya Bjornsdottir

Age: 30

Birthday: August 5th

Height: 5 foot 6 inches

Pronouns: She/Her/They/Them

Languages: Three types of Norwegian (spoken, Bokmål and Nynorsk), Dutch, English

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Brief background:

Origanly from Ålesund, Norway. She went to the Americas for education and a job. Currently lives in New York. She has a dual law degree for civil and criminal law, spending 5 years to acquire her degree at Yale, and has practiced in the state of New York for 5.

She works primarily freelance. Sure, she does have a personal office setup. It's not too large, only consisting of three rooms; entry, office and storage, and a restroom. Though she hopes that one day she can find courage to interview at a high-end law firm.

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Civil law-

Criminal law-

(Will update once mod can explain in their own words)

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Aperance: Her eyes green with trace of hazel, brown curls kept in a messy up do. Freckles adorn their face. Where her face meets her neck on her right side, amongst the triangl, lies a tattoo of the Nordic symbol for protection. She also has a nose ring, bull style.

Out fits

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Relationship dynamics:

She would most likely end up being acquaintances with Matt Murdock and Jennifer Walters.

And if I feel like making them for other dimensions, Harvey Dent as well.

Though Freya profers to keep work and personal life as separate as possible, that's why they would be acquaintances and not friends. But even the stubborn can change.

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Ability simple:

How mod sees it:

-Shadow manipulation: creation of shadow, and being able to control their; location, size, and shapes.

-Create light: able to create a light source up to the brightness of high beams.

-Combined scenario: is the definition of a flash bang. Aka, drowns opponent in complete darkness, then creates a powerful light source practically blinding the opponent.

Acquiring it/lore:

When she was around 15, when she noticed this mutation flourish, she wanted to be alone in the dark, and she got just that. If it weren't for the passing of her father, she possibly would have never known.

Over experiment with such a gift she has accidentally blinded themselves with their own powers enough time that she taught herself how to function and fight without needing her eyes, but not as well as Daredevil. Sure, she can roughly make out people's positions enough not to get knocked out, but that's about it. It's hard to counter someone if you can't see it coming.

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Mod bits-

I am Osi, best found at @osi-inn .

Inspirations for this blog, civil law and general; Daredevil, Night Court (original), Matlock (original), and Suits.

And for the criminal law side of inspiration; Phoenix Wright Ace Attorney, Murder She Wrote, Criminal Minds, High Potential, and any other crime shows i have watched.

[xplore-the-unknwn]

NOA AND MAE ARE NEVER BEATING THE ROMANCE ALLEGATIONS 😆😭

vid by @dewiidrop on Tiktok

Even Tiktok got crazy over them. The comments had me gagging. 😫

“deadass like why did I feel like they was about to fuck the whole time” comment got me 😭

Wes what have you done 😆 The chemistry got us all feral for them. Whatever hes doing- let him cook!!

[lav3nder-bees]

happy february to them and absolutely nobody else

[childofnemesis]

i present to you a list of things that could have happened if the writers of the originals did their jobs right:

hope not having to leave NOLA, and getting a chance to actually live with both her parents.

klaus learning to braid so that hope can have the prettiest hairstyle at school. he ends up learning soo much that even though he's the "big bad hybrid" many of hope's friends come over early to get their hair braided by him and he's more than happy to do it bc it makes his little girl happy.

klaus teaching hope how to paint and having many many many paintings together (soo many till the point that hayley has to dedicate a separate room in the compound just for them. they never once throw any of hope's artwork away)

when hayley gets annoyed at the mischief hope and kol get into, they take a very very long road trip until hayley finally caves and comes looking for them and then they together hide until klaus tracks them down (its a game they all secretly love)

once hope suggested to kol that they could wear suits on halloween to look like elijah and since then it became a running joke that every halloween hope and kol would wear ONLY suits and act like elijah for the whole day. (elijah pretends to hate it but he secretly loves it)

hope coming to rebekah and freya for advice about her crushes and making her aunts promise not to tell hayley and klaus about it.

awkward as f*ck family dinners where hope brings the person she's dating home and klaus silently glaring at them with steak knives in his hand while hayley tries to diffuse the tension.

the entire original family plotting how to murder a teenager without hope knowing when she has her first heartbreak.

hope learning about family game nights from one of her (maybe human) friends at school, and then trying it out at home only to realise the mikaelson siblings are competitive as f*ck. (klaus almost daggered kol again over monopoly.)

klaus and hayley stalking hope when she sneaks out of the house in the middle of the night only to find out that she's feeding a stray cat in the neighbourhood (they end up adopting the cat).

[5-guys-at-freddys]

made immediately upon hearing the news 3 hours ago

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

jfc, man, stand up

[wildflowercryptid]

my beloved besties, i've gotten really tangled up in these towers.

[awoothium]

While I do appreciate Ephy and the players relationship, the little background detail of the players chirithy being fond of Skuld is super cute.

Besides the player, she's the only other person to pet their chirithy; in the light novel chirithy says she has "pretty eyes and long lashes", and they, unprompted, asked how she was doing when the player and Ephy see each other again towards the end.

It's not super big stuff, but I still think it's cute.

[achillean-knight]

REDRAW TIME! 3-year difference ;0;!

[ominous-faechild]

✦ Character Voice Tag ✦

Following tag from @honeybewrites!

Characters from Sun and Shadow: Freya, Crow, and Daleira Characters from the Arcane Rifts: Gene, Tazin, and Mislav

Lines to be used: - "Move over! I wanna watch too." @honeybewrites - "A little help, please?" @the-golden-comet - "Unhand me!" @the-letterbox-archives - "Okay, someone has to come up with a plan" @fractured-shield

"Move over! I wanna watch too."

Freya: "Move! Ugh--please, sorry!" *has already shoved her way past* Crow: *teleported through shadows to get to a better vantage point* Crow: "Excusez-moi!" *at the same time as slapping them aside with their wing* (note: they are not French.) Daleira: "Excuse me, please. I want to watch this too." Gene: "Uhm... ex-excuse me... please..." Tazin: "OUT OF THE WAY!" *meanwhile shoving people way more violently than necessary* Mislav: *way too quietly* "excuse me? I... excuse--vynost, I SAID MOVE!!!" *will shove if they haven't jumped out of the way of the screaming 9-year-old*

"A little help, please?"

Freya: "A little help over here!? Sooner rather than later???" Crow: "Ey! Over here! HELP!" Daleira: "Hey, could I get some help please?" Gene: *is not physically capable of asking for help* Gene: "Uhm... could-could I... please get some help?" Tazin: "Get your ass over here and HELP ME!" (note: read in a nasally, obnoxious 9-year-old's voice) Mislav: "hey, um... could I get some help? Please?"

"Unhand me!"

Freya: "what the--let go of me!" *will tear away from who/whatever grabbed her if she's able* Crow: *combat mode: engaged. Duck into their own shadows and teleport to get a moment to process the scene before reacting further.* Crow: *calmly, making eye contact* "you have less than five seconds to let go of me. Five. Four--" Daleira: *making eye contact, but trying to figure out if the grabbing was malicious or well-intentioned* "what's wrong." (hint: you do NOT want to be on her bad side.) Gene: *at the top of his lungs, voice cracking from under-use, and simultaneously yanking away with more strength than a 7-year-old should have* "LET GO OF ME!!!" (*panik attack*) Tazin: *insert unintelligible demonic screeching here. And imagine the grabber being set on fire. Because both will be the case.* Mislav: "LET GO OF ME!" *will yank away with, yet again, more strength than a human child should have. In fact, even more than a human adult if the grabber is intimidating. Will headbutt and leave a GNARLY bruise if necessary.*

"Okay, someone has to come up with a plan!"

Freya: "Guys??? What are we doing??? Don't tell me I have to figure something out!" Crow: *deadpan* "Don't make me break out Plan B. Trust me, you do NOT want Plan B." Daleira: *taking a deep breath and tying her hair back with a hairtie that JUST magically appeared* "alright, here's what we're going to do." Tazin: "GENE, COME UP WITH SOMETHING RIGHT NOW!!!" Gene: (regardless of whether or not ^^^ just happened) "I... I think I have an idea..." Mislav: "ohvynostpleaseno--does anyone have a plan??? Anyone??? Anything??? Ohvynostno--PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME HAVE TO USE IT!!!"

Your line: "Well, you see, Perry the Platypus, it all started on the day I (...) AND THAT'S WHY I PLAN TO CONQUER THE TRI-STATE AREA!" (in other words, if you don't want to Doofenshmirtz it, "This is why I'm about to do this No Good, Very Bad Thing. That is also why you are not going to stop me or change my mind." I thought it'd be fun with Doofenshmirtz's way, but either should work!)

Tagging (with no pressure) @darkandstormydolls @yourpenpaldee @.honeybewrites @.the-letterbox-archives (avoiding double-tags) and whoever else wants to join!

Divider from @cafekitsune

[rattusrose]

weirdo fantasy friends shirt!

I’ve got a design on the yetee today!! If you’ve been following me for a while you might recognize it, I reworked an older design that I’ve always loved. FFIX forever!

[daveyfvckingjacobs]

jack with reading glasses send tweet

[pang3l]

Freya grew up with her friends being Iske and Ellen just to have her gay awakening be Ruby smiling at her

[missbelindachandra]

my worsties

[aller-geez]

Get to know: Freya Lorelai

(So sorry this took so long, I didn’t realize I hadn’t posted a bio for my girl 😭)

2903 (28)// she/her // Gay/Lesbian // Fallen Angel

Full name: Freya Lorelai

Nickname: Fry

Date Of Birth: November 27th

Big Three: Capricorn 🌞, Aquarius 🌙, Gemini ↗️

Physical Appearance —

Age: 2903 years old, although she looks 28.

Eye Color: Gold, with black scleras

Hair Color: Blonde that fades into a peach-salmon ombré down her pig tails.

Weight: 130 lbs

Height: 5’5

Race: Angel (Fallen)

Distinguishing Marks or Characteristics: has long elf ears with pale yellow plugs. Spiraled ombré horns, that match her prehensile tail and two sets of wings. Bridge piercing, Angel bites (two piercings on her top lip), a center vertical labret on her bottom lip, and her tongue pierced. Inside of her mouth and tongue are permanently blue. Symbols tattooed on her forehead and collarbones.

Personality —

Greatest Strength: Her skills accumulated through the years of vigorous training she went through before becoming a Guardian Angel. She’s a very skilled hunter, and her stealth can be extremely helpful.

Greatest Weakness: her love for Blythe caused her to knowingly give up her life as a Revered, High Ranking Guardian Angel that she had worked so hard to achieve.

Soft Spot: Blythe, obviously.

Mannerisms: spunky, weapons expert (not guns, but bows/crossbows/knives/etc) LOVES hunting (maybe a little too much..) has a prized crossbow she named Beatrice that she can often be caught talking to.

Miscellaneous Trivia —

Has an unsettlingly large collection of weapons that she keeps in pristine condition. She can identify and give a detailed history of each one, and can get a little overzealous with her enthusiasm if someone shows an interest in them.

Gets painful shock like sensations whenever she mentions anything holy or of god, but because she spent almost 3000 years as an Angel and it’s ingrained into her head— she can’t stop.

Before God found out about her Breach of Contact and subsequent romance with the human she’d been assigned as a Guardian Angel, Freya’s scleras were bright white, she lacked her spiral horns and her prehensile tail. She also had 4 separate sets of huge, gorgeous wings, which showed other celestial beings her high rank as a Guardian. Once she had been discovered, her human was sentenced to death for her knowledge of celestial beings, and she was deemed a traitor and sentenced to a punishment that the younger angels unaffectionately called, “Shark Fin Soup’ing” which meant that she would have her bottom two sets of wings forcibly excised, which as you can imagine is incredibly painful and usually resulted in death by either simply blood loss or the shock they typically went into, and their mangled body would be cast down to earth to eventually perish. Without their bottom sets of wings, no Angel ever hoped to be able to fly high enough to return to heaven again, and were exiled to hell once their eventually came. Blythe took matters into her own hands, narrowly missing the Devine retribution sent to kill her by retreating down to hell, where she sold her soul to Lucifer in exchange for safety for the two women. Because of the brutal torture she endured before her fall which eventually led to the removal of 2 sets of her wings, Freya is very sensitive about anyone touching them or being too close behind her. Even people who stare at them for too long will, at the very least, earn a glare from her. The top two sets of her wings, which she still has, can be full sized, or minimized until they’re extremely small, but they never fully disappear.

Sneeze Content —

ALLERGIES

Her own feathers from her wings

Pollen

Strongly scented perfume/soaps

Spices

How severe are they?

Can get the most severe in the spring time due to her seasonal allergies, but she tries to ignore them the best she can.

Do they get sick often?

For someone who wasn’t born on earth, Freya gets sick surprisingly often.

How bad is it usually?

While she does tend to get severely ill, she’s definitely prone to milk the attention she gets from Blythe and tends to exaggerate her symptoms at least a little bit.

Do they stifle?

She gets extremely flustered over her fits in public, so sometimes she will stifle to go unnoticed, but typically her sneezes are too powerful to stifle.

How loud are their sneezes?

Average volume. They tend to be hyper feminine and high pitched, which can make them seem louder.

What do they sneeze into?

Her hands/wrists, or a sweater sleeve.

How often do they sneeze?

A few sneezes a day are typical for her, with more on days when the pollen count is high.

How many times do they sneeze in a fit?

Only once or twice, although not often, sometimes three.

Do they have build-ups or are they sudden?

Sudden and often take her off guard.

Do they sneeze in public?

If possible she’ll try to avoid it, and she’s pretty good at holding them back and can usually fight off an impending sneeze for an impressively long time.

Some examples of their sneezes?

iit’shHIEW!

H’ihhSHHhhiew!!

i’hKSHIEW!

ehh’tshiew!!

eh'tnshiew!

Backstory —

Freya Lorelai was born into an esteemed noble family of angels in the celestial realm of Elysia. From the moment she took her first breath, her fate was decided—she was to become a Guardian Angel, a protector of mortal souls, guiding them through their fleeting human lives. She devoted herself to rigorous training, enduring the harshest trials to ensure she could uphold her sacred duty. With each completed assignment, she would return to Elysia, awaiting her next charge, an endless cycle of guardianship.

Through the centuries, Freya carried out her duties with unwavering loyalty. Her four magnificent sets of wings symbolized her high rank, a testament to her skill and discipline. Her bright white sclera and celestial purity set her apart, marking her as one of Elysia’s elite. But fate had other plans.

For thousands of years, Freya remained steadfast, never questioning the divine order—until she met Blythe, the human who would change everything. Unlike those before her, Blythe fascinated Freya in a way she could not understand.

Most humans were fragile, fleeting things, their lives passing in the blink of an eye compared to the eternity Freya had known. They were meant to be protected, guided, and eventually let go—never cherished, never held onto. And yet, Blythe was different.

She was kind but not naïve, soft but unyielding, mortal but defiant against the limits placed upon her. She did not cower before fate or accept the world as it was handed to her. She questioned. She fought. She sought truth in places others dared not look. Freya was drawn to that fire, to the quiet strength beneath Blythe’s human frailty.

What began as duty became something more—a fascination, an attachment, a slow-burning longing that defied everything Freya had ever known.

Freya told herself it was simply curiosity at first. After all, it was natural for angels to admire their charges. Guardians formed bonds, even in their detachment. But admiration should not have led to lingering glances, to stolen moments where she lingered just a little too long in Blythe’s presence. It should not have led to the unbearable ache in her chest when she realized Blythe would one day die, leaving Freya to return to heaven alone.

She tried to distance herself, but it was useless. Even when unseen, she was always there, watching from the veil between worlds, drawn to the sound of her laughter, the determination in her voice, the way her gaze held no fear when looking up at the stars, wondering if something—someone—was watching back.

Freya had spent thousands of years among humans, yet she had never felt this. Not like this.

Love, in its purest form, was not meant for angels. It was an emotion reserved for the mortals she watched over, something she was meant to admire from afar but never experience. And yet, she did. Against all reason, she fell in love.

She should have left. She should have abandoned her post, begged the heavens for reassignment before her feelings led her to ruin. But Freya was not the angel she once was.

She could not bring herself to turn away. She was a warrior, not a coward. And for the first time in her eternal existence, she wanted something for herself.

Blinded by trust, Freya did the unthinkable—she revealed her true form to Blythe.

It was the first time her human had ever laid eyes on the real her—not the invisible presence, not the whispers in the wind or the subtle nudges of fate. But the truth.

Her wings, all four sets unfurled in radiant splendor. Her golden halo, gleaming in the dim light. The divine energy that pulsed through her veins, the weight of eternity in her gaze.

And Blythe did not recoil.

She did not fall to her knees in fear, did not tremble at the sight of something no human was ever meant to witness. Instead, she reached out—hesitant at first, but unafraid.

Her fingers brushed against feathers that had never been touched by a mortal hand, and Freya knew she was lost.

In that moment, she ceased to be only an angel. She became something more and something far less all at once.

It was an act of defiance, an undeniable betrayal of heaven’s sacred law.

And it could not go unanswered.

The moment Freya revealed herself to Blythe, the skies darkened, and the heavens trembled. A deafening, celestial crack split the air, as if the very fabric of existence had been torn apart by her betrayal. A blinding light descended upon the Earth, and before Freya could even think to run, she felt it—the pull of divine judgment.

Invisible chains wrapped around her limbs, yanking her violently upward, their touch searing her very essence. The weight of divine authority crushed her, making it impossible to resist. The last thing she saw before being ripped from the mortal plane was Blythe—her wide, terrified eyes, her desperate reach—before Freya was dragged back to Elysia, her screams lost in the storm of judgment.

She hit the marble floors of the High Tribunal with a force that rattled her very bones. Golden shackles bound her wrists, glowing with celestial energy that burned at her skin like fire. Surrounding her were the Thrones, the highest choir of angels, their many eyes locked onto her with neither mercy nor regret. They did not speak at first—only watched, their gazes stripping her bare, peeling apart the fibers of her existence to weigh her sins.

When the voice of God’s Judgment finally rang out, it was cold and final. "You have betrayed your purpose. You have broken divine law. You are no longer of Elysia."

She was stripped of her title, her rank, her very place in the cosmos. The golden insignia that once marked her as a Guardian was ripped from her being, leaving an emptiness so vast she could feel it echo in her soul. But worse than the loss of title was what came next.

The younger angels whispered in hushed voices of a fate worse than death—a punishment so cruel, so absolute, that none who endured it had ever returned.

“Shark Fin Soup’ing.”

For an angel, their wings were everything—a piece of their soul, an extension of their very existence. To lose them was to be cut off from divinity forever, to be stripped of one’s celestial birthright. And the process? Agonizing.

Freya was forced onto her knees, her wings spread wide, held down by golden restraints. The once-reverent hands of her fellow angels now gripped her roughly, positioning her for her mutilation.

She struggled. Fought. Screamed. Begged.

But the sentence had been passed.

The first cut was blinding agony. A sharp, celestial blade sheared through the base of her lower wings, severing the connection between flesh and soul. Fire flooded her veins, pain unlike anything she had ever known. Blood, bright and shimmering with divine energy, splattered onto the pristine marble, staining it in a way that could never be washed away.

The second cut came before she could even catch her breath.

Her vision went white. Her body convulsed. Her breath came in ragged, broken gasps. The pain was so unbearable that many before her had died right then and there—either from shock or from the sheer magnitude of loss.

She did not die.

But as she lay there, bleeding, trembling, her once-glorious wings mangled and incomplete, she wondered if death would have been kinder.

And then she felt it. The final step of her punishment.

The pull of gravity, dragging her down.

She should have fallen straight to Earth—cast from Elysia, plummeting through the mortal plane to die as a broken thing, unworthy of heaven, unclaimed by hell.

But she never got the chance.

Somewhere, far below, Blythe was watching. Waiting. And acting.

She had always been the reckless one—the defiant one. And in the face of Freya’s impending demise, she did the only thing she could.

She made a deal with Lucifer himself.

In exchange for her soul, Blythe bought Freya’s escape. The heavens would not take her. The pit would not claim her. She would be free—but at a terrible cost.

Freya felt the shift before she understood what had happened. The divine pull that was supposed to drag her into oblivion suddenly released her. She was no longer being cast down to die—but thrown out to survive. Her fall was not gentle. She tumbled from the celestial plane like a shooting star, her broken body tearing through the skies. The wind ripped at her, the pain in her back like a wildfire spreading through her limbs. She saw the Earth rushing up to meet her, but she did not care—because something far worse had just happened.

She could feel it.

Through their bond, through the fraying thread of their connection—Blythe was gone.

She had fallen, too—but not to Earth.

She had fallen to Hell.

Falling from Elysia was not a simple descent—it was a metamorphosis.

As Freya plummeted, the remnants of heaven ripped away from her, leaving something new, something different, something twisted in its place.

Her white sclera darkened to black, no longer reflecting the light of divinity. Her once-radiant golden halo warped and twisted, reshaping itself into a glowing pink barbed-wire crown, no longer a symbol of grace, but of rebellion.

Pain surged through her skull as her body continued to mutate—spiraled horns emerged, curling from her head, shifting in a gradient from white to orange to pink. A prehensile, imp-like tail snapped into existence, curling behind her like a final mark of her severance from the heavens.

Her wings—the last remnants of her angelic nature—remained, but they too had changed. Their tips were no longer pure. The top set had darkened to orange, the bottom set to pink, reflecting the fire that now burned in her soul.

By the time her body collided with the Earth, the transformation was complete.

She was no longer Freya, the Guardian Angel.

She was Freya, the Fallen.

Freya did not stay down for long. She woke in a world that was no longer hers—a place where she was neither welcome in heaven nor truly damned to hell. A fugitive. A rogue celestial. A walking violation of both realms.

But she did not care.

She had one goal. One purpose.

Find Blythe.

It was not easy. Hell had claimed her. Lucifer had taken what he was owed. But Freya was relentless—she would not lose her again.

When she finally found her, Blythe was changed—no longer human, but something dark, seductive, dangerous. A succubus, bound by the deal she had made.

But she was alive.

And that was all that mattered.

Together, they ran.

Freya no longer had a place in the celestial order.

But she had Blythe.

And that was enough.

Reference Sheet —

stay tuned… ⋆☀︎｡

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

to all you freaks (derogatory to the most extreme degree) that keep shipping freya and milo together, just know that i am rooting for your downfall and hiring a hitman as we speak