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#god of war x reader
yandere-kokeshi · 3 months
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Yandere Headcanons of Kratos
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Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about liking the different sex (male), kidnapping, forced affection, and mention of killing (duh).
A/N: yeah, I started writing this, and now it’s posted; I’d love requests from this man! This is written as the current Kratos (2022). Hope you enjoy <3!
@sakuracream, here it is!
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He’s insanely protective, and just as possessive in the sense that everybody will know you are taken by his menacingly form standing behind you. He acts like a guard dog, always behind you with his resting face, ensuring that nobody disrespects you. But, he’s also caring in his own way. 
It’s a slow burn with him. Kratos isn’t one for simply falling in love with someone, especially with the amount of guilt, shame, and fear he carries each day of his life. He’s lost so many, and doesn’t want to get attached again. Even if he admits it or not, Kratos suffers from abandonment + trust issues. There’s a lack of consistency in his life from as far back as he can remember. So, when first meeting you, it’s harsh.
The meetings of you two are likely between Atreus. You could be a sorcerer they ran into on a late evening, Atreus quickly becoming on good terms with you; begging for you to help him with certain topics, or teaching him things of magick. 
You could be a blacksmith, Sindri making you two meet as his rather permanent weapon needs help. Or, in an infrequent case, an enemy turned into a good ally. Either way, opening up for him isn’t easy. 
Again, it’s a slow burn. He slowly notices how you make him feel — and it irks him. He doesn’t like feeling fear when he loses sight of you, or when you mumble to yourself, he hates feeling jealousy on not being able to hear what you’re saying. It’s difficult for him to analyze his emotions, and with you being near him most of the time, he’s unsure how to approach you, especially if you’re of the different sex. His heart naturally flutters when you talk, his go-to responses of grunts or silence of listening current. Hands sweat when you nudge his shoulder or accidentally bump into him. To you, he’s a tough nut. But underneath all that, he’s analyzing his emotions better; looking at you with love. 
Little by little, it starts with him writing in his journal about you. Descriptions of your characteristics, your likes & dislikes, how you two interact, how close you are to Atreus, and how your habits work; which he describes are quite adorable. This often leads to him stalking you, looking at you when you aren’t paying attention, and reading/and learning your body language like his backhand. It only adds to his adoration towards you, if by chance, you’re a motherly figure to his son. 
With this and interacting with him for a long period of time on a daily basis, Kratos, at some point, lowers his guard — especially if Atreus openly says he trusts you. 
And just like a snap of fingers, he prioritizes you. Actively looking at you when you aren’t around. Asking the others if he’d seen you; quickly shutting the conversation down if Atreus or Mimir ask what’s with him. Small touches are guaranteed, a hand guiding you on your lower back. Fingers ‘accidentally’ nudging to yours when you’re beside each other. Grabbing you by the waist to help you climb on rocks. Or teaching you factors of hunting that he knows you’ll enjoy doing. 
At this point, he’s already attached, far too North. It’s a perfect family, is it not? You aren’t going anywhere without him. He’s fallen for you, quite hard. The rope has snapped, and you’ll be his. 
This said, kidnapping is ensured. It’ll start slow at first, Kratos keeping you a bit longer at home so you can get used to it. He often invites you for supper and dinner; making stew, or having deer. He engages with small talk, admiring you and his son. Slowly but surely, he adds things inside the cabin that he knows you’ll like — shelves of books and poems, more blankets, clothes of your liking, and many items of those hobbies of yours. Atreus adds in too, gifting and creating you things with your thoughts in vain. 
It is, until, one day, you’re permanently kept into the house. Once you try to leave, your smile goes away as you realize he’s blocking your way to the door — ordering you to sit back down. Depending on your reaction, he’s equally stronger than you are, and already has you sitting down, either with his strength or voice. If he needs to, he will chain you; he’s determined on not losing anybody close to him again. 
The mere idea of losing you sends him into a panicked state, to which, he’s forced the option for you to stay here, forever. 
Life in Midgard with Kratos is rather isolated — even though he doesn’t mean to. He loves you, and often fears the worst scenarios, which means everywhere you go, even to see an old-friend, he’s there with a possessive grip. 
Within the stand of home, Kratos tries to make it cozy, and to your liking; adding things to make sure your ‘stay’ is more comfortable. He adds many blankets to the shared bed as needed to keep you warm, even though he’s a lava himself. Every night, he makes delicious food, and often tells you to retire everything to him as he promises to take care of you. 
Affection is hard for him to express — especially with words, so he’s more passionate within his actions. If you two are out in public, he will be touching you one way or another; he has a fear that you’ll leave him, which makes him quite clingy. A hand on your hip, pinky-interlocking-pinky, or if he’s feeling threatened, he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes you into him. If he’s not directly by your side, rest assured that he will be glaring at anyone who approaches you or even looks at you. 
In private, it’s worse. He’s practically glued to your side, and if you’re sitting down, you better believe he’s scooching you closer to his body, and making you sit in/or between his lap. 
Despite his ‘distant’ and gruff answers, he pays attention to the littlest things and wants to make you happy. Despite his possessiveness, If you mention missing your homeland, Kratos will wake you up early the next morning, take you to fatherland and let you visit for a short period of time; a large hand wrapped around yours the whole time. 
Pass-to-conversation that you need more items for your certain hobby? He’s heading down to the trading posts at the butt-of-dawn, actively looking for what you said, and bringing it home with a grunt of, “Here.”
At some point in the future, he’d love to have a bigger family. The thought of having another kid, possibly a daughter, makes his heart flutter and a small smile widen. Though, if you’re of the different sex/or cannot get pregnant, he’s open to adopting or simply just having you and Atreus.
Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!
© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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ghibliwatcher · 1 year
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If Kratos had a child who mostly draws | Kratos x teen reader (platonic)
God of War 4
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He would always be curious to what you’re drawing, especially Mimir
Peers over your shoulder to see what you’re drawing this time (he’s praying that it would be him)
You would occasionally draw your family members every now and then, but you would mostly draw the environment surrounding you wherever you’re in
You and Atreus spend time with each other by drawing! (Literally just chilling at home and draw by the fire)
Atreus would try to draw you while you tried to do the same (he made you look goofy)
Whenever Kratos enters he would sometimes sees you and Atreus draw in silence
“[Name], Atreus, time for hunt—” Sees you and your brother drawing in your journals silently and looking focused
You would also draw Sindri, Brok, Mimir, and Freya too!
Sindri and Freya absolutely loves your work, while Brok huffs in pride that you drew him
Mimir will always be your number one model, since he can’t move around at all (it’s easy to sketch him too)
You also tried to draw your father smiling (which is a thing you can never look at ever again)
In short, Kratos enjoys seeing you draw. It brought comfort to him that you like to grasp the environment you’re in and settling that in your journal.
Whenever you’re sleeping, he sometimes steals your journal and looks at the sketches you’ve made
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nixisaway · 1 year
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GOW: A subtle realization
Kratos \ reader fic
Fem companion reader fic about GOW
SFW all fluff
Just a small idea I had while laying awake this morning :)
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You looked up from your position at the fire only to be met with a curious stare from Mimir.
“Is there something on your mind mimir?” You said softly so as to not disturb Atreus sleeping across from you. “Aye lass just something the boy said of late”
“Oh?” You replied encouraging him to continue
“You see, I think he, well uh, oh how do I put this plainly sister” “I think he wishes for you and his father too, well I think he’s started seeing you as quite motherly”
You laughed and small bit, of course he did, you mended his things and gave him an open ear when his father was being to rough on him and you taught him some albeit fairly basic magic but it was enough to remind him of how caring his own mother was for him.
“And is that such a bad thing mimir?” You asked, bringing your chin to rest on your knuckles. Truth be told it was more than just Atreus you had bonded with. The stoic god who was absent from our hearth at the moment had also captured your heart. You weren’t fully sure how much of his you had but you did notice you never ran out of arrows, and you’ve never gone a night without food since meeting him.
Kratos was not over Faye and nor would he ever be. You never expected him to be either, instead you helped him move forward with the grief and helped him know that love is never ending and comes in all shapes and sizes, from anywhere and everywhere and that it’s ok to be vulnerable if only for a moment out of time.
Just as mimir was about to respond the very god in question made his way back to the fire, with a large buck strung across his shoulders, as impressive as always you noted mentally
“Ah welcome back brother!” Mimir boasted cheerfully. “Hmn” was all he got in response.
With all the noise and excitement Atreus had sat fully up, as alert as he could be while half asleep. You smiled and reached over to ruffle his short auburn hair, a detail of Faye’s that you loved as well as anyone did.
You mused to yourself about what mimir had said, and smiled looking down. If Atreus sees you as a caretaker of sorts then I suppose that’s a good thing, it just means that the only barrier I have left to get through is the one built so high around a man who needs the least protection.
You smile at Kratos after a moment and he blankly looks back although you can see a softness in his eyes as he stares back at you, he broke the moment by plopping the large buck beside you all and seating himself as well all too quickly. Your focus broke as mimir shouted some forgotten language’s curse words while tumbling to the ground from the sudden *ThWUMP* that accompanied the large animals body being dropped on the cold frozen ground.
You giggled and picked him up tenderly, brushing snow from his beard and sitting him beside you gently.
“no, no not a bad thing at all lass” he said quietly to you as the fire crackled and Atreus laughed quietly in the background, in fact you think you might have just almost heard a slight “humph.” from kratos, maybe just barely.
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engardeitsme · 3 months
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The Pickpocket - Part 33
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[Prev] [Next] [Masterlist]
Pairing: Heimdall x fem!Reader
Word count: 3.9k
Summary: Heimdall watches the world burn.
Warnings: utter heartbreak ahead (not kidding)
A/N: as promised, here's your little angsty christmas present from yours truly🙏💖💖 happy holidays everyone!!! this is another pivotal chapter i've planned since the very beginning of this story so apologies that it's rather short, but this very much warranted its own post. (you'll see🥲) with that said! i hope you enjoy your time with it<33
***
Part 33
"Now who's gawking?"
Heimdall blinked. Once. Twice. Each time he expected your form to disappear again. Another painful reminder of what he had lost. Cruel. Punishing.
And much more persistent than any memory before, because when he opened his eyes the next time, you were still standing in front of him, looking at him. It made his mouth go dry and his heart beat faster, but still he resisted the obvious. How could he not? You looked exactly the same as the day he had last seen you. You looked at him with the same affection in your eyes, looked at him with the same warm smile that had kept him sane in the cold loneliness of the past days. A beacon in the darkness. His guiding star.
He fought not to let it blind him now.
Quickly he turned his gaze to the ground, clenching his jaw as he tried to rein in his torturous mind.
"Heimdall?"
His name on your tongue made him squeeze his eyes shut. He tried to concentrate only on the constant pounding in his ears. You weren't really here. It was just a memory. An echo, conjured up by the poison in his veins. Nothing more.
"Listen, I can come back another time if you're not up for visitors."
Nothing more.
Heimdall gritted his teeth so hard that his jaw cracked.
Just an echo, just an echo, just an echo...
"Seems to me they set the dose a little too high..."
As much as he resisted, as much as he refused, he couldn't stop your words from entering his mind and clouding his thoughts. Filling him with longing. Only for a brief moment, but it was enough to make his heart skip a beat. He gasped and opened his eyes. His gaze immediately found yours again, that wore an amused twinkle now.
"You with me again?"
Your words hung in the air between you for a little while as he couldn't help but stare at you. Suddenly, he no longer dared to blink, not even once.
"You are here...", he finally breathed.
His incredulity turned this rather silly statement into a question, which you answered with a nod. "That I am."
"You are... real."
You looked down at yourself. "Last time I checked..."
Heimdall finally began to realize, but what followed was by no means clarity. No, instead his head suddenly felt as if it was about to overflow. He shook it briefly, as if to get rid of his excess thoughts, and then turned his eyes away from you again - but not for long. The sight of you was like balm for his aching mind, and he was only too happy to feast on it. He felt like rejoicing; all his worries of the past days had been unfounded and the brute seemed to have told the truth, at least about this one thing: You were alive and well.
And now tilted your head to the side questioningly, making him feel compelled to explain: "I... have trouble remembering what happened before... all this." He grimaced in the direction of his general surroundings. "It's slowly coming back, but every time I get these... these annoying blackouts and-"
As if on cue, another painful twinge suddenly shot through his temples. He groaned and doubled over as he heard a voice- his voice scream: "You do not get to decide MY FATE!"
The last gap in his memory was filled in fast forward.
Within a few seconds, he felt the Bifröst grow his arm back, and then he moved on to defend his fate. Only one thing mattered now: Winning. At all costs. For Asgard, for the All-Father.
And for you and him. Your future.
Everything else faded into the background, all caution, all restraint, all strategy. What remained was pure violence. Barbaric. Primal. Heimdall had never been less in control, but he had also never cared less as he struck at his opponent with his bare hands. Of course, he often missed, but it was the times when his blows hit the mark that spurred him on to new brutality. That soon made him lose himself completely in his rage.
So much so that, at first, he didn't even realize going down. It was only when the Godkiller suddenly smashed his face into the ground, over and over again, that his mind caught up with what was happening.
Heimdall gasped for breath as he slowly regained consciousness and felt the cold, damp cave air on his sweaty skin again. But his mind was still far away. His mouth was still full of blood. He still heard the traitor head's pleas falling on deaf ears. And he still saw the wild gaze of the monster above him, as his claws crushed his neck.
Until the very end, he had never believed that his last hour had come. His pride had simply not allowed it. Even when the lack of oxygen had set his lungs on fire and his rapidly deteriorating strength had made it impossible to keep up his Bifröst arm... The God of Foresight, Watchman of the Aesir, had fought on - until darkness had swallowed him whole.
Heimdall took a few rattling breaths now, until the shameful memory slowly faded and took its rightful place in his aching head. The puzzle was done, his failure complete. He should've died. Right then and there.
The only thing that made this shame more bearable for him was you. You, and the certainty that it wasn't too late. That there had to be a reason why he hadn't died yet. And this could only be one thing:
Redemption.
He was still alive because he could still redeem himself. From every mistake, every misstep. Because he still had a role to play, he could still be of service, could still be useful. Why else would fate, which he had defended so vehemently, have sent you to him now? It was a sign, had to be.
He was meant to right his wrongs - and he would start by bringing you home.
He took a shaky breath and then looked at you again, putting his whole heart into his gaze. "There was... not a single moment in the last few days when I haven't thought about you." About holding you, hugging you, kissing you... "You have been on the forefront of my mind, always."
"That so?" The corner of your mouth twitched.
This rather... muted reaction to his heartfelt declaration should have given him pause, but he preferred to focus on the question of why you seemed so intent on standing so far away from him... In the next moment, however, the thought that just one drop of the poison that had been pumped into his veins would mean your certain death eased his irritation a fair bit. Especially since he would have plenty of opportunity to take you in his arms- his arm once he was out of here and had taken care of this mangy pack of rebels.
Those absolute idiots. It was a miracle that they had been able to stand up to Asgard's forces for so long, considering how utterly incompetent they were in every other aspect. But they could rejoice; letting the two of you talk like this would definitely be their last mistake.
Heimdall looked down at his perfidious restraints again. "As much as I hate to admit it, I'm out of commission as long as I am attached to this weed here. If I had access to my Bifröst magic, it might just burn the poison out of my body, but..." He sighed deeply. "But unfortunately, this stupid thing renders my powers completely useless. So we will have to come up with something else."
His gaze then wandered in the direction of the cave exit. "I guess we can't necessarily rely on anyone in here carrying around weedkiller. These people may be stupid, but they're not that stupid. Though... maybe we could try setting it on fire..."
"I don't think so."
He grimaced. "Right. I wouldn't be surprised if Frigg thought of adding some kind of fire resistance. She does know how to be a right nuisance after all. So we'd better-"
"No, what I meant was... I don't think I will help you."
Drip, drip, drip...
For a few moments, nothing could be heard except the soft dripping of water on stone.
"Very funny", Heimdall then deadpanned, "Now, what I wanted to say. We'd best concentrate on finding out whether-"
"I'm serious."
His mouth was still open as he just stared at you - and finally realized.
"Don't be silly", he immediately blurted out before thinking better of it and swallowing his growing irritation; you didn't deserve that. "Look. I know that you were forced to steal Gjallarhorn. And that those half-wits probably threatened you with who knows what to keep you in line, but now you have me again. Alright? So you don't have to worry anymore. As soon as I'm out of here, I swear I'll do everything in my power to-"
You laughed.
Loud and unrestrained. He had long found this to be one of the most beautiful sounds in the world, but as it echoed off the cave walls now, it seemed strangely... different to him. Wrong, even. Once again, he cursed the poison that coursed through his veins and corroded his mind. It was time for this farce to end.
Your next words made it clear that you were of the same opinion - but in a completely different way than he had expected.
"Forced? No one forced me to do anything. I thought that much was obvious by now."
He felt his right temple twitch briefly as he remembered the words of the Godkiller who had claimed the very same thing. But then... then Frigg had to be behind it. Some... Vanir sorcery that had allowed her to gain control over your body and-
It was only when you responded with an amused snort that Heimdall realized he had said that last part out loud.
"I can't believe you still don't get it... But then again, you've always been terribly short-sighted." You sighed loudly. "No, Heimdall, neither did Kratos or Frigg have anything to do with me stealing Gjallarhorn, nor with the fact that I'm not going to help you break out of here now."
A wrinkle had formed between his eyebrows. It grew deeper and deeper the longer he searched your face for some clue as to what made your words so incomprehensible - to no avail.
"What are you s-"
"Heavens, look at your face!", you interrupted him with a giggle, "Pathetic is an understatement. I wonder what the All-Father would think if he could see you now... If he knew how low you've sunk. Captured by the enemy, all bloodied, bruised and beaten. A disgrace, really. And so very, very far from the son he always wanted you to be... How sad."
You trailed off, giving him the opportunity to respond. But when only silence followed, your eyes widened. "Don't tell me... I rendered the biggest blabbermouth in all the Nine Realms speechless!" You clapped your hands in your elation, the sound almost deafening in his stony prison. "I thought this day would never come!"
Heimdall opened and then closed his mouth again. His forehead resembled a canyon by now as he repeated your words over and over in his mind. It simply made no sense. And yet he could already feel a tingling at the back of his neck, a slight ache in his chest, a dull buzzing in his ears...
But he ignored it. Simply blamed it on the poison messing with his body, his senses. His mind. Yes, that had to be it. He was disoriented, weakened. No wonder he had trouble making sense of certain things and misinterpreted others. After all, you couldn't really mean what he thought you meant- No. No, you didn't. It was just his mind playing tricks on him, the poison. Just the poison. He knew that now, so he could rise above it. If he just waited it out, it would all make sense eventually, he was sure of that.
If he just waited-
"You can't be serious", you exclaimed in disbelief, "Still?? Oh wow, I didn't think... Hm. Well. This is awkward. I had no idea it was that deep for you. Makes it indeed quite sad then how it all turned out... For you, that is." You paused for a moment, deep in thought. Then you suddenly walked up to him and crouched down so that you were almost eye to eye before you added: "Let me be as blunt as possible then, okay? Think of it as... as a little apology."
You cleared your throat and raised your hand, pointing first at him and then at yourself. "This? We? There is no we, never was. It's all a lie. Been so from the very beginning. My objective was Gjallarhorn, infiltrate and spy on the enemy and, maybe, try and sow a little dissent. You follow me? It was all an act. Well. In my case, anyway."
No... No, you didn't-
"I have to admit, you were a pretty tough nut at first. Lived up to your name. Mistrusted my every move... It wasn't hard to see why the All-Father chose you as his right-hand man. I had to work all the harder to make you believe that I was really just the 'worried big sister' and nothing more. But no sooner had I convinced you to accept Frigg's spell shielding my mind as entirely unimportant... I knew I'd cracked you."
You couldn't-
"I still can't believe that worked, by the way! I mean, 'I lost my memories, guess that's what makes me unreadable to you'??" You laughed again before standing up and spreading your arms in front of an imaginary audience. "The God of Foresight, everyone! All-seeing and all-hearing. Always on the lookout for lies and deception" You looked back down at him. "Except when he's dealing with a pair of pretty eyes, I guess, and you butter him up enough. That's a serious flaw in Asgard's defense, you know? You should really do something about that - as self-proclaimed 'Guardian of the Aesir', I mean."
As much as Heimdall wished otherwise, there really was no misinterpreting that anymore. And yet he couldn't help but make one last attempt to save his dwindling sanity.
"But... that night we-"
"What, never heard of a woman faking it before? Though that's pretty unsurprising, I guess..." You snorted. "All things considered."
And with that the full weight of reality came crashing down on him. Coursed through his body like a raging current and left utter chaos in its wake.
At first, it was as if his heart, body and mind could not decide how to react to this confrontation. Heimdall literally felt at odds with himself- torn. Everything suddenly seemed to consist only of extremes, standing still and moving at lightning-speed, both too sharp and out of focus, silent and earsplitting all at once.
There was absolute anarchy in his head, a yawning emptiness. Even if he had been able to raise his voice, he would have found no words, for there were none. There was also no gravity anymore, and yet it seemed as if an immense weight was suddenly bearing down on him, trying to crush him beneath it. All the while, his heart was practically pounding against his ribcage, making him feel as if his body was shaking like a leaf, when in fact he was sitting there as if he had been turned to stone- no, to ice. He was frozen, while everything else was burning to the ground.
Until there was nothing left but the brutal truth in your relentless gaze, and your voice in his head, repeating your words over and over and over again, shattering him anew each time. He had never felt like this before, had no word for the sensation, and so in the end it turned into what he already knew:
It turned into failure. It turned into death.
A nightmare he couldn't wake up from.
Only exacerbated by you casually adding: "I never thought our plan would be such a success. Had I known, I might have tried a little harder to get you on our side."
Our plan...
To get you on our side...
"Maybe they plan to take you out."
It cut through the noise like a knife. The memory of that moment when the All-Father had spoken those words to him felt centuries old. It had been your first day in Asgard. Back then, that statement had seemed absolutely ridiculous to him. A god like him, taken out by a mere mortal? Ha! Laughable. He was invulnerable! Untouchable!
And above all: A fool.
Shame and remorse exploded inside of him as he breathed: "I would never..."
"What was that?"
It was the only thing that kept him from being swallowed up by the inferno raging all around him. A familiar feeling, an oasis surrounded by madness:
His pride.
As an Aesir, the son of the All-Father. Protector of Asgard.
He should never have listened to you. So many times you had tried to make him forget. To convince him that he could do without it, that it was something to be discarded... That his destiny was something else. That he was free to choose.
In truth, however, it was the only thing he needed, the only thing that he'd ever need. And all your attempts to convince him otherwise were only meant to manipulate him and confuse him and weaken his resolve.
And he'd almost fallen for it.
An utter fool.
His eyes burned as he bored them into yours. "I would never forsake my people."
"Hm..." You looked at him pityingly. "Funny. Isn't that what you're doing right now?"
Again his blood ran cold, but this time he forced himself to maintain eye contact and not show you again how much your words affected him. How they already threatened to snuff out the spark of defiance that had just reawakened within his hollow heart.
But when you suddenly smiled the next moment, he knew that the effort was in vain. The only other person who had ever made him feel like he was on the receiving end of his mindreading abilities was his father.
Heimdall should never have let it come to this.
And what you said next only added salt to the wound.
"Oh, if only you had listened to your father..." You started to slowly pace in front of him. "He mistrusted me from the start. Almost got me to give up my cover when his damn raven left me in the middle of fucking nowhere. But luckily" You stopped moving and beamed at him. "Luckily, I could always rely on the God of Foresight. He even lied to his king for me, can you believe it? So reliable, so well-trained... I truly owe him one."
You paused for a moment before your smile widened even more. He had imagined this sight so many times in the past few days... Had feasted on its memory every time his own head had become too heavy. Had longed for it, craved it... But now that it was in front of him again, it was as if he was seeing it for the first time. All the familiar warmth, all the tenderness, all the affection had disappeared. Now your lips were cold, like everything else about you.
He wondered how he could ever have been so blind.
"...Like making sure that Kratos doesn't kill him, so that he can witness the fruits of his failure." Again you walked up to him and crouched down. "Like making sure that he can watch Asgard fall."
No sooner had you finished speaking than Heimdall jerked forward, struggling against the restraints that held him just out of your reach. You didn't even blink at his antics, but his next words made you raise an eyebrow.
"It won't."
"Oh? Is that so? And what makes you so sure? Face the facts, it's over. Asgard has already lost the moment I took Gjallarhorn from you and all you cared about was me. What did the All-Father have to say about that, I wonder...? I can hardly imagine that he was particularly... pleased." Your lips stretched into a cold smile again. "Come to think of it, you should actually consider yourself lucky to be rotting in this cave! You've failed, on all counts. As a watchman, protector of your people... as a son. And now your realm must pay the price. And for what? Love?"
You raised your hand and gently brushed a sweaty strand of hair out of his face. He recoiled from your touch. However, as much as he hated himself for it, there was a small part of him that still longed to feel your soft skin on his own, even after everything you had just told him, if only for a brief moment-
"Oh, sunshine... Who could ever love you?"
Heimdall had not known there was anything left of him that was still intact and not broken. But now your words shattered it in one fell swoop.
You looked at him for a few more moments before taking a deep breath and announcing: "Well. This was fun. Let's do this again some time, shall we? After Asgard's funeral, perhaps?"
He watched as you stood up and brushed the dust from your legs.
"No."
You snorted in amusement, but didn't look up. "No? No, what? You didn't have fun? Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but-"
"You will be the ones to perish", he growled.
"Oh really?"
"And when I'm out of here, I-"
Your laughter was instantaneous. "And how are you going to do that? Do you think daddy dearest will come and rescue you? Why would he even bother to look for you? He thinks you're dead! Everyone in Asgard thinks that. And once the war comes to them, they'll soon have forgotten you even." You straightened up again and chuckled. "Not like they'll shed a tear for you before then, don't get me wrong. After all, they've always hated you for being their protector."
You smirked when you saw him scowl at you. "If you really think about it... You lead a rather sad existence. I mean, what are you without your powers? Your duties? Nothing. You have nothing. No allies, no friends and the only family that cares about you is your father - who you betrayed."
Heimdall only vaguely noticed you turn around and head back toward the cave exit. The pounding in his ears was back, so loud and so violent that he almost missed your next words.
He wished he did.
"But rejoice! It's not like you have to worry about that anymore..." You stopped, turned around one last time and then gave him a sweet smile.
It tasted like rotten fruit.
"...You're dead after all."
***
and the oscar goes tooo....🥁 (i hope it's obvs that that wasn't reader lmao><)
hope you enjoyed thiss<3 as always, feedback is welcome and very much appreciated!!
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Change Of Heart ~ Heimdall x Reader
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Summary: Y/N is the daughter of Kratos with a Greek Goddess who died before he left his homeland. She is laconic and intimidating without even trying, being more like her father, but she’s mostly just aloof and has no idea how to have a proper conversation, especially with the people of the North. Being a Goddess and having learnt so much as a child, before Olympus fell, Y/N found her primary priorities simple - Protecting her family. Her first meeting would however prove to be the most entertaining, but also, the most annoying thing she experienced, since she stole Hermes’s boots.
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Ragnarok was on the verge of existentialism, and everyone was running amok with craziness - People were worrying for their lives, their homes, and not only, for the End of the Gods meant... What did it mean, actually? Nobody could know exactly - They could only make false suppositions. But that’s what people did best - Make up countless scenarios that may or may not come even close to reality.
The problem was, while mostly everyone inside the dwarves’ home was in alignment with their mind views - Atreus, the little half-Jotnar teenager, was up to... Only he knew what. Nobody, maybe not even he knew, what in the world he was thinking. She doesn’t remember herself being a teen rebel... Maybe it was a boy thing? She truly had no idea.
Time and time again, especially after Faye died, Y/N tried to pacify Atreus and lead him on the good path - The one of communication, so he and his father could talk out their differences. That was their problem - They loved each other so much, but because of their different personalities and upbringings, they weren’t able to bond so evidently, like herself and Kratos did. Although, they did have a few hundreds of years alone to talk plenty, so it was an unfair comparison - Hence why, she had to try harden in reasoning with both of them.
This day, however, things were even going worse than ever. Not even Sindri could talk sense into Atreus, so the ‘bad guy’ had to go and intervene, hopefully talk sense into his boy so he won’t do anything stupid and reckless. Y/N knew better than anyone how much loss and grief Kratos has experienced in his long life - She was adamant in making sure her father never has to lose anyone dear to him again. 
Kratos entered the boy’s room where he was sitting on a barrel. Kratos evidently ticked off and in need of proper answers. He never was one for beating around the bush or diplomacy - That was all Y/N - So when Atreus tried to evade the question, the father started raising his already harsh and raspy voice. That gruff Spartan voice that was always used to shouting did him no good in trying to appear calm and collected - Not that he was, in that exact moment. Kratos was accusing Atreus of seeing - Or at least, attempting to - See Odin. He was grasping at loose straws, but it was the only clue he had.
Atreus’s voice was defiant, and he even talked back to his father, saying that he could do whatever he wanted - Make his own choices - Because it was HIS life. Not wrong, per se, but at least give your old man some closure, he is worrying himself into an early grave.
“Why don’t you trust me?!” Atreus shouted at his father, clearly hurt. “If you want me to trust you, then tell me the truth.” Kratos’s voice was pressed and authoritarian. “The truth is you’re being a complete asshole!” for a household who tolerated foul language little, having such a direct insult, at your father, no less, was inacceptable. “ATREUS!” Y/N stepped into the room. “That is no way to speak to your family. What has gotten into you?” Atreus pushed past the girl, and walked out of the room. “He doesn’t have any faith in me! All faith he ever had was put into you!” Atreus accused. “It’s fine if HE keeps secrets! It’s fine if Y/N keeps secrets. It’s fine if mum did -”  “It is NOT fine! Her secrets haunt every step of this path.” this wasn’t a family quarrel anymore. It was complete disaster. “Oh, okay, so you don’t believe in her anymore either?” the boy went to lean on a chair at the table, still away from his father.  “This is not about your mother. What you have done is lie.”  Kratos pointed out clearly. “I wonder where I learnt that.” the boy let out a dramatic shrug of his shoulders. “What is with this attitude? You do not behave like that to your family. We just want you safe.” Y/N tried to put her hand on his shoulder, but was slapped away. “Why do you ALWAYS take his side?! Is it because you’re his favourite child?!” the accusation was hurtful, but Y/N tried to keep composed. “Our father does not have a favourite child. I told you so many times - We just had more time to understand each other and learn how to speak. You are a few hundreds of years behind in that - And it is alright. Dad is not the easiest to understand, I get that. I know I am not easy to understand either. We come from a different realm and a different time. Different speech and different customs. But we both care about you so much. Please understand that, Atreus.” the girl tried to stop his temper tantrum, but it was for naught. “Look, fine. I was only THINKING about going to Odin - But I swear, it’s for a good reason!” the boy spoke in his defence. “There is NO good reason to go to Odin.” Freya intervened quickly.  “He’ll only cloud your mind.” Tyr, also, spoke, the porridge cauldron in his hand, as he stirred it. “But I’d be going for us! I gotta stop something bad from happening!” the boy tried to reason. “Something bad DID happen! LOOK AT ME! Look at Freya - At Tyr! Odin did this to us!” Mimir shouted at the boy, hoping to make him see the fault in his thinking. There was nothing good that could come out of dealing with the devil himself. “What’s got everyone caterwaulin’ all-a sudden?” Brok grumbled as he got in the little group of mischief. “Atreus wants to go to Asgard.” Sindri summarized it best.  “Asgard? He get kicked in the head or something?” Brok was genuinely surprised by that idea. “Great. I guess everybody’s against me now.” Atreus rolled his eyes. “We are not against YOU. We just do not want you to put yourself in danger by directly going to that power hungry mad man.” Y/N sighed, pulling the boy into a hug. “You must choose who you are going to be. Are you going to continue to lie and keep things from me? Or are you my son?” Kratos asked, getting closer as well. “Choose? I NEVER get to choose. Just leave me alone.” the boy pushed away both his family members - But Kratos grabbed his arm, telling him to listen to him. “LET GO!” the boy started squirming aggressively, trying to escape his grasp. “I said - LET GO!” the boy transformed into a bear without realising once again. He was walking towards the door, but Sindri was in his way. “Atreus! It’s Sindri. J-Just try to keep control--” the bear was about to hit Sindri with his large paw, but Y/N with her magic pushed him away, allowing safe passage out of the house, and outside, for the portal to take him to Asgard. “I will get him back.” Y/N thanked her mother mentally once again for gifting her the boots of Hermes, as she was able to run all the way to her little brother who was back in human form and struggling to get through the portal door. 
Y/N tackled him - But the two fell through the door... All the way to the Fimbulwinter inflicted Midgard. From there, they made their way to their home, then at Freya’s, where they took care of the large tortoise-tree that guarded her house. “Can you please tell me what are you fearing so much, brother?” Y/N spoke gently, sitting on the ground and watching the remorseful and worried expression on his face. “I... I saw a Jotnar shrine... And it predicted father’s death. I... I can’t let that happen. I have to do something about it.” the boy’s voice was small and afraid. “Atreus, darling... Did dad ever tell you about the Sisters of Fate? Or how he saved himself from dying, by going back in time?” the boy’s eyes bulged wide. “If you had any idea how many times dad has been fated to die, you would be in a grave with worry right now. Hundreds of years later, he is still alive and well, as you can see.” she explained. “Dad’s father... Uh... Killed him, and stole all of his God powers in a sword. Dad escaped the realm of the dead and sought out the Sisters of Fate. They are... Like the Nornir of this land, but they take an active role in the creation of Fate itself. One would create life, in the form of a thread, another would embellish it to her will, and the other would end the life by cutting the thread - Everything was controlled by them. Everything could change, based on their whims. That is what greed and power hunger does to you - You become a tyrant.” the girl continued. “Dad killed all three of the Sisters and found his own thread, so he was able to turn back in time and save his past God self from his father. As you can see, he is still the God he once was - Minus the magic. He cannot use the magic anymore. I, however, can.” Y/N winked at him playfully. “But... I don’t understand. All the Jotnar predictions come true!” Atreus was clearly conflicted. “The oracles predicted his dead. Dad died - But he also brought himself back from death countless times. It has not stopped him before and it will not now either. The only thing that can stop our dad from going forward is if something happens to either of us. ESPECIALLY you, Atreus.” the girl’s voice was stern, but also kind and warm. “You do not see it yet, my sweet brother, but our father is incredibly overprotective of you. He can be overbearing also, I do agree. But he has gone through so much grief and mourning and loss, that his heart simply cannot take any more. For him, you are still the little bundle of love that he created with Faye. He was so very afraid of even holding you in his arms, afraid of hurting you or bringing you misfortune. I... I hardly ever saw my father cry before, Atreus. But when he held you in his arms for the first time, and you extended those tiny little babe hands of yours to grab at his beard... He shed tears. Those were the first tears of pure love that I have seen him weep in my life.” the look on the boy’s face was almost comical, but his heart was in so much pain and realisation. “Your misunderstandings come from a place of deep love.” she clarified. “Y/N... Will you please help me protect our dad? I’m... I’m really... Afraid.” the boy reached forward and snuggled in her arms, hugging her. “Of course, my sweet brother. I shall always be there for you, no matter what peril may come.” the girl kissed the top of his head. “Here. Put this in your breast pocket. It is a flower of healing - Mum taught me how to make it. I can feel your vitality through it and know when you are in danger. As well as that, you can heal your physical wounds, should you destroy it. Be ready for anything. Please.” the boy quickly put it safely, and smiled at her - His beautiful blue eyes were gleaming, and they remained in that embrace until something akin to a knocking was heard from the wooden window, and the boy rose to his feet. Ravens came into the room, once by one, and they flew in circles around the two children, and teleported them to Asgard.
More specifically, to a god damn lake. That was nothing but absolutely cruel. “Your Odin friend is a... Jerk, as you call it.” Y/N grumbled, pulling the boy ashore and squeezing her long hair and clothes from the water. “Wonderful start.” the boy was pissed off - But the two siblings made their way towards the large wall - On top of it was supposed to be the real Asgard... Or, whatever. On their way, they met up with a boy around Atreus’s age and height, with pretty blond hair and a pretty face, named Skjoldr, before they were to climb all the way up... Up the wall with no end. Awful.
Y/N shot the boy an exhausted and done with life look and began to climb that atrocious wall mountain - Though nothing compared to the climbing of Olympus. Actually, the circumstances were similar - At the end of the day, at the top, the Father of the Pantheon was awaiting them. The exact God which they wanted dead. Although it wasn’t an easy climb, Atreus took his mind away from his aching muscles and the fatigue by making conversation about her life as a Greek God. Though he was always curious, he hardly ever asked her or her father about their past lives - It made the girl happy, like they were bonding, and he was also trying to find ways to get in touch with their father.
They were so close - So, so close to reach the top of the wall - Atreus, who was up there, put his hand on the ground and tried to bring himself up, only to have his wrist held into a tight grip. He gasp, alerting his sister, who noticed the man kneeling. He had blond-grey hair, short and pulled into various slicked back intricate braids, and the most striking purple eyes. His skin was pale as she’s never seen anyone before and his clothing looked... Noble. With gold embroidered into his pristine white and blue tunic If he didn’t have that incredibly fake and arrogant smile, he would have looked like the most handsome man that Y/N has ever seen since she last saw Hermes. All men in the North looked harsh, gruff and so incredibly old, they reminded her of her father. But not this stranger.
“Hello.” the man spoke. He had a velvety voice, but it made Y/N worry tenfold. He held the allure of a confident and self-assured man who masked his weaknesses very easily. “Uh... Hi?” Atreus more asked than stated.  “So.” the stranger meant business. “What part of the enormous wall made you think - Oh! Visitors must be welcomed - ?” he was even dramatically sarcastic. If Atreus’s life wasn’t threatened, Y/N would have found him tragically entertaining. “I was sent for, actually. By Odin.” though the boy spoke the truth, this stranger behaved less than optimal and with an empty dead-pan. “The All-Father sent for you? Ha! Great.” the man took a bite of his crispy red apple. “Then why are you out there, and not in here?” good question, actually. “Trust me, I asked the same thing when we found ourselves plunging into that awfully ice-cold water.” Y/N sighed, her expression aloof and unbothered, yet still having a comedic effect in her tone. “Ah - There’s another one - I almost forgot about you. Why are you here? Same dumb reason?” the stranger asked, watching as the girl pulled herself up slightly, just to nonchalantly place her arms on the ground and lean her chin on her hands, while her feet were dangling playfully - She looked far more unphased than the boy. “Ah, no, no. Odin had asked for him, not for me. I mostly ended up here through a rather... Unfortunate series of events.” with a bored expression, the stranger let the apple for on the ground, and it rolled over the edge, breaking the small rock on which Atreus was holding one of his hands. Now, he was merely held onto by the stranger. Y/N was focused, yet maintained her unbothered aura - She knew very well that, should the stranger throw her brother over, she could easily rescue him. “Are you finished? Now. What could Odin. All Father. King of the Aesir. Possibly want with the likes of you?” Y/N wanted to know the very answer just as well. “That’s between me and Odin.” Atreus spoke barely.  “You don’t even know, do you?” the man stated, letting an empty chuckle. “If you could pull me up, I--” but the boy was cut off harshly.  “No, I don’t think I will. I think maybe I’ll drop you.” the man spoke, as a matter of fact. Y/N would have actually laughed, should they not have been the subject of his mockery. Atreus started panicking and pleading for him not to drop him off. “Yes, I’m going to drop you. Goodbye~!” “Wait, wait!” Atreus grabbed onto the man’s arm tightly, making him look down at him, disgusted and offended. “Think how mad the All Father’s gonna be when he -- When he finds out you killed his guest - Loki of the Jotnar?” “The Jotnar?” the resentment for that race was obvious on the man’s visage. “Enemy of my people?" “I am not your enemy.” Atreus made the man with shining eyes groan in disdain and pull him up. Seeing that her brother was alive and well, the girl quickly pulled herself to safety as well. “I will be the judge of that.” the stranger spoke, walking ahead as Y/N helped her brother get up and patted his head.
Y/N didn’t speak for most of the walk - She did not want to give away any of her weaknesses, nor her temper or strategies. Still, she heard Atreus Identify the man, thanks to the Gjallarhorn. This Aesir stranger was, in fact, Heimdall. She was amused by how done with life this man was, especially when dealing with her brother’s innocence and naivite - He would call it absolute stupidity though. He claims to be the protector of Asgard, his beloved realm. However, he easily guessed that Atreus was so overly eager to get out of someone’s shadow... The shadow of an overbearing fatherly figure, he says. How very much on point he was. Interesting. He also guessed that he was - Disrespectful. Entitled. Impulsive. On point, for the most part. 
He easily read that Atreus was here, not to save people, but out of his own accord. To lie, manipulate and to bad, all for himself - His selfish desire to prove that he can do good by himself - And save his father. Though Heimdall was taunting the boy, he wasn’t exactly wrong - Just incredibly cruel, the most.
“I see you are proficient in reading people. Although you have added your own, personal touch of cruelty to your words - They are, in fact, very correct.” Y/N nodded, seemingly impressed with his guess. “Of course I am correct, silly girl. I just need one single look in your eyes and I already know everything there is to be known about you.” the man snapped at her, though the smirk on his face made it clear he liked the praise. “Is that so? Then, by all means, what is there that you can see about me?” with a small, perfectly contained and relaxed smile, the girl leaned back casually on the wooden railing of the cabin they were travelling in, and willingly averted her eyesight, straight into his own. Her gaze was aloof, yet held with a strong indifference. She was challenging him. Provoking him, Heimdall realised. But how? He could not understand. “You... Are appreciating the colour of my eyes? How mundane. What are you, some silly midgardian girl?” the man scoffed. “Hm... Am I, now?” her smile widened just a little bit - Heimdall knew it was perfectly controlled, and it only irked him more. He looked again, but he felt as if he was looking into a void. This Loki child was like an open book, so easy to read, and even easier to taunt. This one, however, was getting a rise out of him freely. She didn’t look physically strong - In fact, she looked slender and frail - But so did he, and he held the strength of a God, and the mind even better. He was having a very annoying rival, and he could not stand his place being challenged, especially if it was a means to go against Asgard. “You are not of this land.” the girl nodded, approving his statement. “You hold very strong convictions and can be very stubborn. You don’t hold anyone’s opinions in your regard. You are shallow and uncaring. You are manipulative. And...” Heimdall’s purple eyes widened slightly - Atreus could even see his very pale skin turning slightly pink.  “Heimdall - Are you, perhaps, cold?” the girl’s smirk was as cunning as a fox. Heimdall realised that she knew exactly what he was reading off her. It was her who was feeding him the information to speak out loud.  “Why would I be cold? I’m an Aesir, I was born here. This temperature is just right for me.” he snarked at the girl, who pulled off her cloak and approaching him, pulled it on his shoulders, before approaching her face to his own. “Your cheeks are pink.” she whispered into his ear, before taking a sharp turn and returning to her leisure resting place. “You did it on purpose.” he was so bratty now, she was reminded of Atreus and his temper tantrums. How cute. “Very well spotted. Your foresight is truly a force to be reckoned. I am sure Asgard will be very safe with you as its guardian.” her comment made him glare at her - Only for Y/N to demurely hide a soft giggle with her hand. He couldn’t understand this type of behaviour  - Where could she be from? Women of the North was stubborn, impulsive, strong, loud and oftentimes relied on their brawn to get things done - Like every citizen, for the matter. But this slender little girl had the silver tongue of a snake and a coy aura. A woman who uses her brains... But does she also have the brawn? From the way she was holding up the wall, she had to, otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to climb it all. She proposed herself a puzzle. An enigma. And for some odd reason, he wanted to solve it. Was this her plan all along? “Your reason for being here was not an accident.” he stated obviously, snatching the cloak from his shoulders and effortlessly throwing it back to her. “For the most part, it was. My brother had ran away from home. I was worried for his well-being, so I ran after him. I tackled him. We toppled over into the portal door. I did not expect to end up in Midgard - But the ravens found us and teleported us... In the middle of the lake.” she spoke the truth. “You claim to be the protector of your realm - That means its people too. Surely, you would understand what it is like, playing the part of the protector of your family.” she continued. “Family?” the man scoffed with disgust. “My duty is wholly to the All Father.” “Ahh, I see. So you are a very selfish man. You care of your homeland and of your employer, not of anything else that regards it. Is your loyalty towards Odin... Based on the fact that he is the most powerful man, and the ruler of the realms? Or are you truly loyal to his political convictions?” she hummed in amusement. “Are you questioning my devotion to the All Father?” he was getting easily angered. “I am questioning nothing. I am simply curious where your heart lays. Staying isolated, guarding a wall that has probably not seen any intruders in ages, all alone. You must have true devotion to whatever your cause is. Aesir supremacy.” the harsh glare she was met with made her even more entertained. She hoped she would be able to get him angry enough to attack her, soon enough.
Although, as soon as the finished their cabin ride and were down on the other side, on the grassy ground, they reached a pretty rural village... And a saddled beast that Y/N has never seen before. Heimdall seemed so... Kind and genuine with this beast. Loving, in fact. When Atreus commented on how the Aesir taming this animal was almost as impressing as Baldur and his dragon, the man must have felt almost... Offended. “Baldur had the luxury of not caring about being burnt. I out-think them. Dominate them, fair and square.” interesting line, Y/N thought. So one of his powers was his wit.
But her analysing of the stranger came to a halt once Atreus jumped on the beast’s saddle and she realised there might not be another seat for her. “How chivalrous of you, brother. Allowing a lady to walk. Father taught you better.” though she shook her head, she smiled, showing she wasn’t seriously scolding her little brother. “Just get up, there’s enough space for a little thing like you. I don’t need you slowing us down.” the man rolled his eyes and extended his hand, and she gladly took it, hopping to sit between him and Atreus. Smirking in triumph, happy that he could not see her, the girl cheekily reached her arms and snaked them around his torso. “What the hell are you doing?!” he was so alarmed that, upon leaning to the side, she noticed his milky cheeks growing ever pinker. “I do not have what else to hold onto. If I were to fall off, the trip would come to a halt, thus, slowing down. I do not want to be a bother for you, Heimdall.” he had a mind to reach out and wring her neck or just kick her off and pretend he had no idea who she was. Better yet, he had another plan, that may or may not get the both of them killed. He had to test their prowess, first and foremost. He was already aware of the brat’s treacherous intentions, and he was an idiot. The girl was far smarted and cunning - She was the real threat.
Once arrived at the great lodge, Heimdall commanded his mount to act up, sending Atreus flying away, meeting with a painful thud to the ground. Y/N did not. She landed like a cat on her feet, so gracefully and effortlessly that it pissed him even more. “Can you handle them on your own, Atreus?” the girl asked, nonchalantly stepping around, without a care in the world.  “You want me to fight alone?” the boy’s eyes widened in shock, readying his weapon. “A-Alright! Alright!” he started killing away at the Einherjar, until none were left.
Except for the Aesir God himself. He had analysed thoroughly the fight, and he deemed Loki to be hilariously weak. But the girl seemed... Painfully daft. Of course, he knew it was all an act, but for an overprotective sister, as she claims to be, she did not help her brother at all. She just... Skipped around, like a little girl. Why? What was she trying to hide? He had to be very careful of her.
He got off his mount and stepped menacingly towards Atreus. He toyed around with the boy - It was so easy... But his eyes would always dart towards the foreign woman. She was humming a song, crouched to the ground and admiring... A wild flower. What the hell was this? She made no sense. No sense at all. Maybe most of the Aesir he met were just too dumb? Heimdall thought of Thor and Baldur, and he made a mental note - Yes, they were dumb as a log. 
After a string of trips to the young boy, he was ready to kick him to the ground - But unexpectedly, just as his leg was in the air to push him off... He felt a hand gripping his leg, before he saw e/c eyes staring up at him. His cheeks warmed up once more realising that this weird woman had her chest flushed against his own, holding him steady with one hand gripping his floating leg by his thigh, and the other strongly around his waist. “Have you figured out what I am yet?” he has never allowed anyone to touch him before, especially in a fight - How in the Nine Realms did she manage to grapple him like that?! She was on the other end of the court, and now she was so intimately close to him? What the hell was she trying to do? 
Realising that he wasn’t answering, but she could feel his heart beating unusually fast and his brain was so fried from shock that he wasn’t even reacting altogether, Y/N’s smile grew a bit bigger, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I guess not.” but before she could play around more, the crackling of thunder whipped the skies - Both of them realised what it meant. “Shame. I was enjoying your company very much.” she let go of him gently, turning to help Atreus up from the ground. “Great...” Heimdall also growled under his breath, shaking his head to get rid of that unwelcomed blush. How dare that wench attempt something so promiscuous with him? How dare she play around with him like that? He was of noble heritage, but he wasn’t some drunk fuck who did nothing but whore around, like his unfortunate half-brother Thor. He was straight and very much valued his royal God blood with unbent convictions.
As soon as that drunk halfwit arrived on the ground, blocking him from the two intruders and telling him to knock it off, that they truly were Odin’s guests, he wanted to spat between his eyes and throw him off the wall. What a dumb fuck. And he dares call himself an Aesir God. If he could, Heimdall would gut him like a fish. He was nothing but a shame to the Aesir bloodline, and the All Father - And thankfully, he knew it very well.
His humiliation only grew more once the dumb oaf told him to look him in the eyes, convince himself with what kind of shameless brutality he was going to stop him from attacking the guests - He was so angry. “You are a sick man.” Heimdall sneered at his half-brother, who looked down at him with a weirdly calm look. Y/N looked again at the ginger haired giant of a man - He was even bigger than their dad, and far wider, evident during that day when they attacked their home. Though dad didn’t want to kill him, Thor was a  worthy opponent. Maybe he wasn’t Zeus, but he wasn’t a weakling either, at least. 
Startling the two new-comers, the pitched screech of crows echoed out of nowhere, and Odin appeared before them, in the same manner they arrived here. “Loki! You made it. I am so honoured. I see you’ve brought your sister with you as well, I am flattered!” the old man walked towards them. “I apologise for the unexpected intrusion. I know you had business with Atreus alone. I am here more or less in the quality of an over-protective sister who, uh...” the girl scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “Who tackled me to the ground, and we stumbled through the portal together.” the boy threw her a shady look, only for her to answer with a feigned innocent smile. “Yes, pretty much!” Odin knew some little girl wouldn’t be able to thwart his plans. “No matter, you are just as welcomed as he is!” how fakely cordial he was. “I see you’ve met Heimdall. He reads minds for me.”  “O, yes, we have met. He is a delight. Are very pretty too!” Heimdall, hearing that, growled under his breath and stomped next to the God. “The boy is false, All-Father. And the girl blocks me from reading her mind.” he spoke, glaring at Y/N. “This young man, WHO IS MY GUEST, is covered in mud. Care to explain?” Odin’s voice was a tad harsh and reprimanding towards the man. Heimdall’s face became soft and submissive, and he even did a little courtesy bow in front of the All-Father. “They both mean to betray you!” Odin immediately turned to face the boy, and with a fake gasp, he spoke. “Is that true, Loki? You a little trickster?” Y/N started giggling, very much amused by his act. “Yes, sometimes! When he was younger especially, he used to pull all sorts of cute, little pranks on me!” the girl teased Atreus, who only shot her an offended glare. “Hey, I’m not a child anymore!” darling, him. “I’m just messing around, but your sister seems to have caught on to my act.” Odin waved his hand dismissively at the worried boy. “Of course he means to betray me.” he turned around to face the man, whose expression was absolutely crestfallen. “Heimdall, i’ve given neither of them any reason to trust me... Not yet. But he’s got some very big questions. And I have so many answers to give.” Thor was dismissed, and Heimdall was sent to clean up - But the all-seeing Aesir was genuinely concerned for Odin. “But... All-Father...” he tried to whisper, but was shushed immediately by an exasperated old man. “Heimdall -- Sja hvat... Heimdall, will you just relax?” Odin turned to Atreus and Y?N. “Were you two intending on killing me first thing?” the two shook their heads. “See? What - That’s not good enough for you? Get outta here!” Heimdall had the expression of a kicked puppy, as he crossed one arm to his shoulder and bowed his head.  “O, actually - I was wondering if Heimdall had some free time. It is the first time either of us steps in Asgard - I would like to see more beautiful sceneries... If it is not too much too ask.” Heimdall stopped abruptly on the spot, his back turned, and glad that neither of the three could see him cursing under his breath. He wanted to spend exactly no second in the presence of that annoying woman. “But of course! You can ask him anything and he will answer just as well, or even better than I could, for any question you might have. Heimdall, when she’s done visiting, bring her to her room. I will have someone clean out one for her as well.” Odin ordered, watching the girl pat her brother on the head with a sisterly smile. “Thank you for your kindness - And forgive me again for intruding like that. Have fun, Atreus.” with a lazy peace sign, Y/N skips by Heimdall’s side and smiles innocently. “Wipe that smile off your face already, I know it’s fake.” it only made her hum in amusement. “Why do you want to make my entire existence a living hell? Have I already made you hate me so much and now you’re torturing me for your whole stay here?” this time, her smile disappeared, and she looked more confused than ever. “Actually - I merely thought you looked upset, and I wanted to ask if you were alright.” she explained, making the man frown. “Forgive me if I have made you uncomfortable with our previous interactions. If touching is comfortable for you, I will not do so again. Forgive me.” her expression was much softer, and she intentionally looked in his eyes, so he would see personally that she was being genuine. Heimdall scoffed and looked away. “Good. You finally get it.” he mumbled, crossing his arms to his chest as he walks ahead for the girl to follow. “So. Do you really want to see the landscapes, or was that just an excuse to apologise, and I get drop you off and get rid of you already?” he asked, but much to his dismay, her word was true. “I do want to know more about your culture and history. As you said - I am not from this lands. I have moved here awhile ago - In fact, I have been here more than I have been at my own home. Even so, there is not much that I know about your culture, your history, the traditions. Mimir would tell me occasionally, but there is only so much he can say at once.” she explains, making small steps ahead. “Oh, of course, Mimir. The ever smart one.” he grumbled, almost as if he was jealous. “Fine then. I will grace you with the knowledge of the great Aesir Gods. However!” he turned abruptly, facing her dangerously close. “You have to tell me where are you from and what you are.”  “That sounds like a fine deal.” she smiled at him as they returned to the cabin car and all the way back down on the other side of the wall. 
It is here that Heimdall showed his passionate side, for once, in the small time frame since they’ve met up. He looked sincerely happy and proud, speaking about the Almighty realm of Asgard, the Aesir bloodline, and their fantastic culture. Most of all, he praised Odin a lot, but Y/N paid no mind to that - She wanted to learn as much as possible about the North in general. Who knows, maybe it will serve as an important information for the future.
Who could have thought that the bratty Heimdall could be such great company? If he didn’t play around as being so arrogant and all-knowing all the time, it might serve him well. Still, it seemed obvious that no one that she has met likes this God. The night was already beginning to creep by, so the Aesir escorted the girl back to the lodge. As they got back on the wall, however, it was pitch black, with only the stars and the moon illuminating their way, and torches from the Aesir village. But there was something else as well - 
Y/N turned to get a good look at the gorgeous mountain landscape and the lake in which she had fallen - And the noticed the most breath-taking Aurora in the world. Her jaw was dropped slightly, and her eyes wide in wonder. “This is the most beautiful thing I have seen in my entire life.” she was barely able to make herself speak those words, and she didn’t even hear the blond man stepping next to her, as she was far too stunned and in awe. “Oh, this? It’s like this every night. I guess it’s not as impressive when you see it every day, for centuries.” Heimdall played it cool. “The colours are so vivid. And they move. The howl of the wind makes it sound like... There are animals up there.” without realising, her hand was already reaching up, as if to touch the flowing lights. “Yeah, well, I guess you wouldn’t know. Up there are the souls of every animal that ever died. It’s not just the wind.” he might have been snappy, but seeing a complete foreigner admiring his home so whole-heartedly made him feel incredibly proud. “I wish I could be up there, with them.” “If you have a death wish, I can just throw you off the wall.” the man scoffed, turning his back to her. “I would not die.” she admitted plainly. “I always liked animals for than people. They are far easier to deal with. And they do not make assumptions based on silly criteria.” the girl muttered, feeling her heart almost vulnerable before the very display of natural art. “Said the girl flirting with me the whole day.” Heimdall rolled his eyes. “Come on, stop staring, tomorrow is another night for this. I’m too tired to deal with you anymore.” he grabbed her arm and dragged her along to the cabin, and got her to her new room, pointing to the kitchen along the way.  “Thank you for having patience with me today. I know I have ruined your work day, but I deeply appreciate spending this day with you. May you have the sweetest dreams tonight, Heimdall.”  the man simply gritted his teeth in annoyance and left the place - He truly needed a drink. He could not stand this woman and that overly fake facade of hers. How can she piss him off the whole day, then act so stupidly diplomatic, as if he actually had to forgive her? Stupid woman.
As Y/N was admiring her new, temporary room and putting everything in place, before her stomach growled. It wasn’t often that she felt hungry or sleepy to begin with - But the warmth of this room took its toll on her. She exited her chambers and went to look for the kitchens to get something to eat and some water. What, she did not find, but wine, she did. Not the best, but not the worst. Better than the bitter ale, at least.
All Gods and others were drinking and being cheery inside the large room - But Y/N didn’t feel comfortable, so she went to search for another room, hopefully more quiet and... Alone, rather. She would have preferred not to eat in her own room - It was bad manners, especially as she was a guest - But she would do so, if need be. Leaning on a wall, alone, and with a large draft mug in his hand.
“Huh? Are you trying to make friends now?” Heimdall snapped at the girl, who looked curious at him. “Why are you all alone?” the man gritted his teeth, picking up on the pitying tone. “Here to interrogate me, then? Are you, perchance - Pitying me now? Feeling bad for me, for seeking peace of mind, amongst all these cretins?” he seemed awfully defending of his choice. “Not quite.” she spoke, placing her try on the table. “I just thought you looked - Lonely.” she admitted. “The other room is far too loud for me. You can join me at the table, if you wish. Standing up while drinking cannot be comfortable.” The man rolled his eyes and scoffed, but ultimately, he slammed down his mug opposite of her - He still wanted to try and read her mind.  “Lonely, she says. LONELY. Gods don’t get lonely, that’s ridiculous.” he looked into her eyes, but he could see absolutely nothing. “What, you disagree?” he snarked at her, and she nodded her head. “I get lonely sometimes.” she spoke lucidly. “Do not misunderstand me - I love my family and our new friends... But sometimes, I do wish I could... Stray away, just a tiny bit. Meet new people, socialise... And whatever it is that people our age are supposed to do. I... Am not quite sure.” she explained so casually, that Heimdall almost didn’t pick up on the implication at first. “Wait. You mean to say - You’re a God.” she nodded. “You.” again, she nodded. “A. God.” he was flabbergast. “No. No way. I don’t believe you.” “I am more of a God than you are.” the girl smirked and reached out her hand to drink some of the wine - Only to choke and put it back.  “Urgh. This is so bitter. Are you people against sweet drinks? Or water, in general?” with a groan, Heimdall snatched her goblet and left the room, only to later return with a whole flagon of water, which he poured for her.  “Happy now?” seeing the girl enjoy the water, he rolled his eyes with a disgusted look. “You are SO useless.” “Why do you not believe me when I say I am a God?” she asked, drinking more water. “Thank you for going out of your way to bring me water, by the way.” she smiled at him gratefully - Oh, how he wanted to wipe that stupid smile away. “Because you simply cannot be a God! Look at you - You’re a dumbass! You are frail, you have no remarkable powers, and you’re not smart either. There’s nothing special about you!” he insulted the girl, who mocked him by pretending to think. “I may not be special, but somehow, you cannot read my mind. And I caught you off-guard multiple times.” it only angered the man. “You are just doing some stupid little trick that I can’t guess yet, that’s all. Nothing witty.” he tried to reason. “Do you want me to tell you my trick, then?” she asked, leaning her jaw in her palm. “What - You think I’m incapable of detecting some cheap tricks?” she shrugged. “I did not mean to offend you, Heimdall.” she said, once again, watching the man scoff and hit the back of his chair, sprawling himself over it. “You’re as fake as it gets. At least that stupid little giant boy is more honest.” he grumbled menacingly. “Atreus was born and raised here. I was not. For me, the way I speak, is a customary way of showing respect, especially for a stranger. Where I come from, everyone speaks this way. I suppose the rules of communication are more lax and friendly around here.” Y/N explained, sighing - It was times like this that she truly missed home. “You are here - That means you have to act like us.” she did not reply. “Did you hear me?!” “I will not change who I am, just to appease your unsavoury childish behaviour.” her tone changed to a more deadpan one. It was solemn, but authoritarian. It shocked the man. “Listen here, you --” but he was cut off. “Does it bring you joy? Being such a cunt?” the man’s jaw dropped to the floor with offense. “Forgive me - Did not expect just an obscene word, did you? I hate cursing, but you are extremely deserving of that title.” she said, with a clear sharp edge. “So - Does it bring you joy? Being so awful that nobody in Asgard can stand you? Or perhaps this was your goal all along - Alienating anyone, being the laughingstock of Asgard, being used as a tool by the one you worship - Because that is the only thing you are good for?” she stared deeply into those beautiful, glowing purple eyes of his - They looked exactly like the Aurora on the sky, she realised. “How dare you assume such things? You have been here less than a day, and you think you know everything? Who do you think you are?” he rose from his chair, slamming his hands on the table. “A Goddess of Olympus.” she did not raise - Instead, she straightened her back and looked straight at him. She was giving him what she needed - But he had no idea how to take it. “Why the FUCK can’t I read your mind, damn it?!” he yelled at her. “I can see what people really are. I can read people - I can smell their lies, their deceit, their intentions. I see them lying to the world, and even themselves - And sometimes, they don’t even know they’re doing it themselves!” he stepped from behind the table right next to her - He grabbed her arm and dragged her up to his level. “So why is it that I can’t read as stupid little girl like you?” “It is not that you cannot - You can. It is that I have not allowed you to peer into my mind.” she explained simply. “The simple fact that I allowed you to see into my mind, but showed you only silly things, meant that I can play with you at my will.” her closed-eyed smile was oh so very annoying. “HOW?!” he shouted at her - But she looked even more devious than a fox. “Would that not destroy the trick, then? It is far too simple, actually. I would say, if people had the wit, they could even do so themselves. Alas, most people do not... Or cannot. It requires a certain training and strength of mind. But I have just the right discipline instilled into me, to accomplish such a facile thing.” she spoke to him. “I hate you. I hope the All-Father sees how much of a menace you are and kills you already. I would have killed you long ago, but I will respect his orders.” he pushed her back into the chair, seething between his gritted teeth. “That is quite the pity - I was enjoying your company greatly. I suppose your style is... Old men who use you for your powers, but do not like you and would kill you at the drop of the hat should your use be removed.” the man looked at her with absolute dread. “Do you want to see into my mind, then? No tricks? I shall allow you.” and she did - And once the man had access to her mind, his expression changed, and he looked distraught. He took a step back, and then another, before he looked away in annoyance. “So you don’t care about anything around you, as long as your family is safe. Boring. You’re even here to deceit or betray - You just don’t care at all, do you? You just... Are. That’s it. You just - Exist. Nothing more, nothing less.” the girl nodded in affirmation. “Gosh, you’re boring as hell.” she nodded once more. “Whatever. I’ve annoyed me enough. I will leave now.” the man spoke. “Beware the one who pretends to be your friend.” she warned, but the blond man had already stormed off, probably to drink his anger away at his home, close to the wall, and far away from the Lodge and all its inhabitants.
Y/N sighed and looked down at her light meal - It would have been nicer if she still had company, but it seems that no matter where she goes, she manages to push people away from her. Was it because she has different opinions from these people? Or because they are supposedly fated enemies? Who knew. Either way, she hurried to finish her dinner, not feeling comfortable in this place filled with Aesir Gods that would attempt to kill her - Maybe - With the first chance they got.
Even so, she had to think of a way to apologise to Heimdall - Not that she thought she was wrong, per se - She never did like Odin, and thought him incredibly fake ; Moreover, he was incredibly harsh and rude to the Foresight haver, she’d even go so far to say it was unnecessarily mean even. Y/N hoped that, somehow, some day, she would be able to get through Heimdall’s shell and make him see again, for he blinded and deluded himself into thinking he is cherished by the All Father, when in fact, he is worth less than dirt, and would have been thrown off the Wall, were it not for his ability. Y/N liked him though. She was able to see the hurt in his eyes, whenever he was being undermined by Odin and even Thor. He did have a heart and the brains, but only if he would actually use them, he could see the truth before his very eyes.
The next day, however, she had no time to go to Heimdall and have a good talk, for the All Father had personally come to her to tell her of a mission, and whether she would like to join - Of course, she would have refused, were it not for both Atreus and Heimdall joining, and not only them, but Thor’s own daughter, Thrud. As far as she understood, their destination was Helheim - Not exactly the best place for a date - Alas.
She was the third to arrive down in the cellar or whatever it was that served as Odin’s study and work room, and she lazily waved at the two - Thrud was just a little bit taller than Atreus, and she seemed to be just his age. How cute! “My, little brother, I didn’t realise you moved so fast! You are becoming a ladies’ man, just like our dad!” the girl chuckled leisurely, patting the boy’s head, only for him to blush deeply and push her away. “What the hell are you on about?!” he glared at her like a little brat, which only made his sister laugh more.  “Ah, to be young and in love~” Thrud also seemed to be taken aback by the comment, for she immediately pushed the Greek Goddess who was not expecting such a reaction, and due to her much slender built, she stumbled on her feet. “Don’t tease us like that!” Thor’s daughter yelled at her, only to see Heimdall extending his arm casually to catch the falling Goddess. “Ah, yes, what a privilege, having to play the baby-sitter role for a bunch of stupid children.” he sighed and rolled his oh so beautiful purple eyes. “What a lovely surprise, Heimdall!” Y/N smiled sweetly at him, not bothering to get up from his arms. “You knew I would join the mission.” he, too, glared at her. “It still is lovely seeing you.” he let her fall to the ground with a painful thud. “That... Was not as lovely.” “Alright, time to go. Before I forget - You don’t wanna walk into the blistering cold of Helheim without this.” Odin said, as soon as Y/N jumped back to her feet. “Efri-la.” he put a spell on them, which made them forever warm whilst marching through the freezing hell. “Should keep you nice and toasty. You’re welcome.” “Huh. Mimir said even Odin couldn’t survive the cold in Helheim...” Atreus pointed out. “You believe everything that old goat says?” Heimdall snarked at him immediately, creating an awkward silence, save were the croaking ravens surrounding them. “Thrud, too bad your first time outside Asgard has to be to Helheim...” he spoke in an almost upset voice. “Nah! We’re gonna make the most out of this!” she exclaimed with enthusiasm and a thirst for adventure. “Now, as much as I would love to babysit, I have something else to do for the Alll Father. If you run into any trouble, just scream so I know where to find your bodies.” the man disappeared without a trace. “Nobody dies on my watch, it is quite alright.” Y/N spoke in a soft voice, motioning to the boy to go ahead and start his mission.
Not once did she bother to speak up, instead opting for making her presence unremarked, and allowing the two kids to speak at their own leisure, without feeling hindered by an adult. She didn’t even bother trying to convince Thrud of Odin’s treacheries and corruption. She was far too stuck up and indoctrinated, though not much different than Heimdall himself. It was going to be a tough job trying to get through any of them, anyway.
And even when Atreus wanted to liberate the huge wolf, she was by his side, though she had no idea why it was even chained to begin with. Surely something bad was going to happen. The magic mask was glowing no more, and Thrud was very abruptly turning on Atreus. As soon as they arrived back at the meeting place, however, they saw mauling marks... In the air. As if the wolf had torn and scratched apart the realm itself. Y/N stepped in front of it and tried to touch it - It had a rough texture. How very weird. “You absolute, unqualified MORON!” Heimdall’s voice boomed out of nowhere. “You know that thing tears holes between realms, right?” that explained everything. “Well, I suppose I should expect nothing less... From half-breeds.” Atreus tried to shoot back, but was ultimately hit in the knee and made to kneel on the ground. “I will call you whatever I like, junior.” his voice was but a whisper, yet a threatening, malicious one. “Leave him alone. It was a mistake.” Thrud tried to defend the boy.  “No! The mistake was allowing you to think that you’re ready.” It was the first time that Y/N heard the Aesir God yell - It was almost scary. She did not like it. “You helped him, didn’t you?” there was silence, as the two had an intense staring showdown. “What side are you on... Guppy?” “Try me and find out.” there was almost an earie sense of self-confidence that gave Thor’s daughter power - But it was all a feint.  The blond man put his hands back and stepped back, laughing tauntingly at her. “And what are YOU going to do, exactly?” he asked, easily stepping away from a jump kick from the young girl. “You see - Everyone takes it easy on you because they are afraid of your father. I am not. That fat, drunken utter piece of trash!” every comment on her father provoked the daughter even more - She rushed with a sloppy barrage of left and right hooks to his head, but they were far too easily dodged, and she was ultimately pushed away.  “HEY!” Atreus jumped in front of the girl, only to be pushed aside. “AGAIN!” Thrud challenged the Foresight God. “Yes, yes. The dumb does not fall far from the tree.” he did a mock courtesy before her. “Very well, then. Give me your best shot.” Thrud charged headfirst, trying to land a punch, but was side-stepped and tripped to the ground. “You have a LOT to learn, little girl. Starting with - Who your family is... And who it is not.” he crouched before her laying form, and she sneered up at him. “Just wait until I’m a Valkyrie.” she was seething with anger at being so disrespectfully easily defeated. “Ha! Haha...! Oh. You really believe the All Father would allow that to happen?” the man sighed, putting his hands together. “Please, do not let this little weasel feed you delusions any longer.” Y/N had no idea why she wouldn’t be allowed to become a Valkyrie - Didn’t the Norse value them, and considered them some of the strongest fighters? Or was it because Thrud was far too young and inexperienced? “Y/N, DO SOMETHING!” Atreus called out to his sister, who watched Thrud shriek loudly “ENOUGH!” and become self-afflicted with little rays of thunder around her, mirroring her father. Y/N sighed, and before Thrud could get close to Heimdall, Y/N got between them and with her powers, slapped away both Thrud and Atreus into the wall harshly. “I meant against that jerk, not us! Whose side are you on?!” her brother growled at her. “For how long are you two going to behave like petulant children?” she asked, sighing and shaking her head. “You are pathetic.” Heimdall stepped in front of her, looking down at her with a doubtful expression. “I do not need your protection - And if you think you can feign your allegiance --”  “I am not. And I was not protecting you - You are perfectly capable of doing that yourself.” her answer was edged and curt, and she seemed unlike her jovial self from before. “I have told you before - You speak the truth, yet you add your own sense of cruelty to your words. This encounter should serve as a lesson for these two. Alas, they just fail to understand that even provoking is a sense of training. Discipline allows you to see past that, and focus transforms your rage into strength.” she explained sternly. Heimdall huffed to himself, stepping away from her.  “If you’re acting so smart, why didn’t you stop them from creating such a mess?” he asked, leaning back on a pillar.  “Simply because I had no idea what that wolf represented.” she shrugged. “Men must live with the consequences of their own actions. It was the three of us that liberated the wolf, thus, it falls to us to either shackle it once more, or destroy it, before it destroys us. It is that simple.” “Oh, great. It’s like I’m having father with me again. I asked for my sister, not my father!” Atreus whined, giving Y/N the stink eye. “If I were to give in to every provoking sent my way, I would have either been long dead, or left the Earth with no more population. Remember, however, that if you choose to answer with violence, you must asses the situation and know that you are capable of defeating your opponent. In your case, neither of you can win against Heimdall, so, if he wanted to, he could have easily killed you long ago. Lucky you.” it was clear that neither of the younger ones was liking her statement - In fact, her brother especially was very bothered by it. “You and father are the same. Don’t bother preaching to me that you’re not the favourite child, or that you both love me, when you scold me like this.” the boy huffed in annoyance, getting back to his feet. “What - Nothing more to say now?” “I have nothing more to say to you.” Y/N closed her eyes, crossing her arms to her chest. “To think that mommy dearest would scold her little ducklings, how amusing. You toddlers are so... Boring. Now then, if you are finished throwing your little tantrum, we should go, because I cannot wait to watch you explain this mess to the All Father. Oh, it’s going to be glorious!” Heimdall called for the raven to teleport them back to Odin’s study - But he wasn’t there. They went up to Odin’s study in the lodge, listening to more of Heimdall’s scrutiny. “Loki of the Jotnar. I am haunted by your incompetence. It keeps me up at night. Np, seriously! I-I-I find the hues and shades of your shortcomings almost moving.” the Aesir was almost shaking with laughter. “If we could only somehow harness your uselessness, we could fuel this entire city!” Y/N wanted to laugh so dearly, remembering how funny Hermes’s shady comments were. She missed Hermes.
When they got to the All Father, he sent Atreus to his room, whilst Heimdall remained to speak of his own mission with his master. Seeing that she had nothing more to do here, she went out to sit by the Wall, dangling her feet and looking up at the sky, and the clouds passing by.
Time passed by, and she was all alone, save for the crickets playing their tune, and the breeze going through her long locks. It was a peaceful atmosphere, and watching the lapse between hours and the sky’s colours changing so radically was bringing her perfect harmony. Watching the sky from the very top of Mount Olympus was gorgeous, but adding the Northern Lights and the twinkling silver stars only made things even more special.
“Mommy dearest is all alone, surrounded by enemies. She has no idea her little duckling had abandoned her.” the mocking voice of Heimdall disturbed the peace, making Y/N lean her head back to look at him. “I must have really upset him earlier. I try to understand him - Both myself and father - But he is different from what we were as children. Our education was tough growing up, and discipline was instilled into us since birth. Everything was lax for him. It is not easy. It is too bad that he does not want to understand our differences.” she shrugged simply, shifting her gaze back to the sky. “Then leave. Go back home. Nobody asked you to cross the whole realm like a martyr.” he hopped down next to her - Though he was mocking, he wasn’t as aggressive as before. “I asked to leave.” she admitted in a whispery voice. “My mother died in childbirth. I... Never thought that Gods could die of something like this. I was still a child. Father was not home. My mother went into labour, but she was suffering from fetal dystocia. I tried to get the baby out, but it did not work. I had to kill her. Carve her belly open and extract that... Thing.” she spoke in a bitter voice. “I was holding that thing in my arms, and I tried to use my powers to heal her. The wound did heal, but she would not answer. I raised my head to see her, to tell her she can hold her baby. But she still did not answer. The baby wasn’t screaming either. I think it was stillborn. I do not know to this day. I had ripped it apart in my anger. When father came home, he saw me brushing her hair. I told him I will not spend another day in Greece. We went to Egypt, and then, the Gods guided us up here, North. Dad married, had Atreus, his wife died... Again. And that silly little boy cannot accept that there are far worse things in life than a life lesson or a scolding. Maybe he will - Someday - But until then...” she let her voice trail on into the night. “You did not tell this story to anyone before. Why me? I’m not your friend.” he snapped his head to her, scanning her. “But I do like you.” she spoke so casually, that even Heimdall could see the truth in her intent. “You are being ridiculous.” he watched her shrug. “I mean it.” “So?” he raised his eyebrow at her. “You cannot change how I feel.” “You are wasting your time.” she said nothing. “Gosh, you are annoying. Your brother is much more fun with how easily he gets triggered.” “I have too many centuries behind me to get irked by silly things like that. Back in Greece, I was very close to my mother’s best friend. His name is Hermes. He is a lot like you. Fast, witty, smart... Has the funniest and snarkiest comments about everyone.” the man watched her shoot him a playful smile. “So I’m the Aesir replacement of your long lost drunk uncle. Great. What a privilege.” he did not expect to hear a soft chuckle from her. “If you are trying to compliment me, you are failing miserably, just so you know.” “Forgive me. I just find you presence to be very endearing. And you are also very pretty. It adds to your charm.” he scoffed and looked away. “And your blush is even prettier on your pale skin.” Heimdall’s arms caged the girl, slamming his palms on either side of her and getting close to her face, a frown painted. “Will you stop this stupid act already?!” “You know it is not an act by the way you look at me.” the endearing smile did not disappear even once. “As far as I remember, it was you who did not want to be touched - Yet here you are, invading my privacy. Do you wish for a little kiss?” his eyes widened in surprise, especially as he could read the truth in her eyes. He tried to shift back to his seat on the wall, but in his flurry, he slipped and fell onto the girl, who was giggling like a little girl. “If you wanted a hug, you should have just asked. I, also, have not had one in a few centuries.” her hand reached to pat his head. She could feel the way his heart was beating to fast against his chest. “You are SO insufferable!” his tone raised as he got rose to his forearms, looking down at the serene looking girl. “Can’t you just wipe that annoying smile off your face for once?!” Instead, she rose just slightly and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Lighten up, pretty boy.” he stared at her, speechless, for a few moments, before he ran away, leaving Y/N to stare up at the starry sky, her amused smile never once leaving her face. For a man who loves to trash talk people, he sure was easy to fluster.
Still, being in that great lodge, surrounded by enemies, sure was the closest thing to frightening that she’s had to feel in a while. Somehow, though, she managed to fall asleep - At least for that night. The next day, however, people in the village seemed to be preparing for something akin to a festivity, long tables everywhere, lots of food, and even more drinks - In fact, so much ale that Y/N suspected the Aesir had an ale river. She had no idea, nor did she care about the event, but as soon as evening struck, everyone was outside, gathered around the huge bonfire. Some were singing, some were dancing, many were eating and everyone was drinking.
Y/N, too, went outside with a goblet of sweet wine, but even sitting on a log away from the festivity earned glares from the Aesir - Sif and Thrud especially - So she went even farther away, into the forest, at the bottom of a tree, watching the merriment of everyone. It was almost... Endearing. Everyone seemed genuinely happy, though drunk as all hell. Y/N sighed, thinking back at the grand banquets in Olympus, and at how drunk Dionysus was, trying to balance his cup on his manhood, or the many mischievous pranks she would pull with Hermes. She loved dancing... But she did not know dances of the North, nor any song. “You pitiful thing, all alone, rejected by everyone around.”  Heimdall sat down next to her, glaring at the people in front of him as he drunk ale from his large draft mug. He had brought a whole carafe of sweet wine for the girl also. “Sif made it clear I am not welcomed. I know my place, I do not want to dampen the mood and ruin the fun for everyone.” she clinked her goblet to his mug. “Cheers.” “Sif is a stuck up stick in the mud. Nobody likes her, and she likes nobody.” the man scoffed, getting more comfortable, leaning on the tree. “Why are you here anyway? It’s an Aesir festivity.” “I have not gone to such an event in a very long time. I had hoped that I would remember the times of Greek festivities. In my country, hospitality is everything. The host always goes out of his way to make the guest comfortable and welcomed.” she spoke, leaning her head down. “I suppose I have overstepped my welcome here. Had I known, I would have left with Atreus.” “Who cares about these guys? They are all a bunch of idiots. They need to get shit-faced drunk all the time to even stand one next to the other. They’re all a bunch of fake dumbasses. Why do you think I never bother with any of them?” he scoffed once again. “Do you never get lonely? Watching people being happy and having friends - Without you?” the girl asked. “I used to sing and dance with everybody. But I do not know the dances, the songs, nor the people.” “Ahh, you are your out-dated beliefs. How utterly ridiculous.” they stood quiet for a while, expecting for Y/N to retort - But nothing. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re seriously wanting to join them!” once again, she was silent. “Oh, for Asgard’s sake - You piss me off.” with a groan, Heimdall rose to his feet, putting his mug down on the grass. He extended his hand to the girl, though he looked away. “What are you waiting for? Get up already.” Confused as she was, Y/N, too, placed down her goblet and gingerly placed her hand over his, being helped up. He guided her a little farther away into the forest, and then stopped. He stood in front of her and looked down at her, still for a few seconds. Now that he allowed himself a few moments of respiro, he was able to admire the woman before him properly. He couldn’t believe himself, thinking that an enemy was so beautiful - Luscious pink lips and her velvety long hair, her sun-kissed skin, and those sparkling gemstone eyes. “What are you doing?” “Keep quiet and follow my lead.” he reached out to hold her other hand as well - It was so delicate and soft, unlike the skin of most of the women here, who were harshened by fighting. “You’re being stiff as a fence. Relax already. I thought you said you were a great dancer.” “Not such kinds of dances.” the girl’s crystalline hum of amusement sounded like a lullaby to his ears. “You are very good at dancing, Heimdall.” “Of course I am. I am a noble Aesir God.” he huffed, his face reddening lightly. “At least you’re getting better.” “I have a great teacher.” she smiled so sweetly at him - Nobody ever was this nice to him before, and he hated to admit, but every time he looked into her eyes, he could see she was being genuine. There was also the case of her faking it, of which he was terrified, but somehow, for some reason, a part of him wanted to believe that she was sincere. “It goes without saying.” even now, he was being patronisingly condescending, yet his heart was feeling... At ease. Light, even.
Then, they spoke no more. With every move, they would not shift their gaze away from each other’s eyes. With every twirl, their fingers remained intertwined. And each time, their bodies would get closer and closer, until they were flushed together. The faint sound of music guided them, but Heimdall’s humming was all that Y/N was paying attention to - His voice soothingly low and caressing of one’s soul. It was cold outside, yet they felt none of the harshness of the wind, for the dance of two heart was keeping them as warm as the blazing hearth.
Time had passed at an uncertain pace, but it did not matter. Both Heimdall and Y/N had formed a bond they had never experienced before, nor expected. The most unlikely of persons were joining together, despite how different their beliefs and thoughts are, and at least for the night, they were now just two normal people, all alone and content with the other’s presence.
The night had ended and dawn had arrived, and only when the first ray of the warm morning Sun caressed their skins, did they stop dancing together, and returned to their own rooms to rest. Though the Aesir had other duties, guarding the Wall, Y/N was able to catch some well deserved sleep. Afternoon went by like a breeze in Spring, and night formed again - Yet the night, she was denied, for Thor had torn her door from its hinges, his hammer at the ready and sparkling with his thunder power, threatening her for sleeping in the old room of one of his deceased sons. Were it not for her speed, she might as well have been bludgeoned to death by that hammer of his, but she was able to make her lucky escape, to Heimdall’s own cabin. It was the dead of night when she knocked on his door. 
Once he answered the door, Y/N had a good look at him - Hair down, and dressed only in a long tunic of perfect quality, yet he did not seem to have been sleeping. “What. The hell. Are you doing here.” he asked, in disbelief. “What, did you have a nightmare and couldn’t go to daddy for comfort?” “In a way, yes.” Heimdall’s eyes widened and his mouth was slightly agape. “If you count Thor wanting to kill me, a nightmare, then yes, I did have a night terror, and quite the frightening one. I admit, I would rather not awaken to the sound of the door being pried open like that.” she chuckled, a bit uneasy, only to see the man getting off the door frame and gesturing her to get inside. “What the hell has gotten into that half-wit?” Heimdall sneered. “Has he forgotten the All Father had forbidden all from harming you and that brother of yours?” “I think he was drunk. He seemed to be slurring and mumbling about his dead son.” she explained, sitting on the table. “Ah, yes, those useless brain dead idiots, Magni and Modi. They were a waste of space anyway. Leave it to Thor to lose it after every ale draft, just because Sif talks his ear off. If it weren’t for her, he’d just plague the tavern all day and night long.” the man rolled his eyes, before taking a look at her. “And you’re in the same clothes as yesterday.” “Not the most comfortable to sleep in, but the best I had.” blinking, the Foresight haver groaned, going to his wardrobe and throwing one of his pristine tunics at her head.  “Go change already.” she was wearing a bashful grin on her face, skipping to his own bedroom to change into the tunic. When she returned, she had done a little twirl - Heimdall couldn’t stare away from her. “It reminds me of the tunics from my own home. It is so comfortable and beautiful. Thank you, Heimdall.” why did his clothes look so well on her? And why did her bare legs look so beautiful? “Whatever. I’m going to read. Go sleep already.” he huffed, grabbing his book before getting into the armchair next to the fireplace. “Will you not join me tonight? It is quite late.” she spoke, plopping on the bed. “Besides, it is rude manners to hog one’s bed.” “You see - Unlike most of these disgusting half-wits, I do not go around, sleeping with women I am not married to. I have my own self-respect, you know?” the man huffed, hiding his face behind the book. “Well, perhaps one day.” she hummed with amusement, before getting in bed and covering herself with the warm blanket. “Sweet dreams, Heimdall.”
But the man did not answer, nor did he dream. Instead, he made the mistake of allowing his mind to wander off far too much, once again, without meaning to. He wanted to see the girl before him, wearing a beautiful, rich dress, and on her head, a golden circlet, which he would remove, and in its place, a bridal crown of flowers, wood, and so many crystals and ornaments, to highlight her long and beautiful hair even more.. They would exchange swords and rings, and at the end, they would dance, and sing, and play games, and... No, that didn’t sound quite right. He couldn’t care less for these people, he didn’t want to bother with all these poor excuses who called themselves Aesir Gods. He hated them all, and they all hated him in turn. Why should they experience the beauty of this woman in all her glory? They wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t be happy for him. They were all pathetic. They didn’t deserve him.
Heimdall let down his book and his eyes gazed upon the resting form of the girl that was in his bed. She was already fast asleep. What the hell was in Thor’s head, threatening her and scaring her like that? Oh, wait, that’s right. Nothing. His head is as empty as a hollow barrel. Fantastic. And to think they are half-brothers. Remarkable how one could turn so tragic, while another so perfect.
Without realising, he was tempted into resting as well. He would only be lying down on the bed, nothing more. And so he did. On his side of the bed, he rested his head on the pillow and shut his eyes, relaxing to the crackling of the firewood burning. He turned his head to the side, and watched the Greek Goddess cuddling that pillow to dear life, sleeping so peacefully. How silly.
But then, she started to shift, and she was now facing him - And not only that, instead of the pillow, she was now clinging dearly to his own body. “Hey - What are you doing?! Get off already! You are being improper --” he whisper-yelled at the girl, trying to pry her off, but her strength was remarkable, even in her sleep. With a curse, Heimdall relaxed himself in that embrace, watching as Y/N nuzzled her face to his neck like a little kitten. Her breath was warm on his skin, and her embrace was tight around his body. He... Actually felt... So good. It felt like a blissful dream. He had never slept with anyone in his bed before, not like this. Sure, he might have had his way with some women, at some point, but not in his bed, and he did not stay the night with them. They weren’t worthy of his presence like that.
But he now felt so... Calm. So... At peace. He did not even realise he was playing around and caressing her beautiful hair, sprawled everywhere on the bed. Sighing, he resigned himself. He kissed the top of her head and cursed himself. What had he become? A pray to a woman’s sweet words and beautiful face. In the face of aversion, however, how would he react? And, most of all, would he fall to her convincing words and sad puppy eyes, or will he continue fighting for Odin, blind and deaf, as always?
Heimdall couldn’t sleep the whole night - Or, rather said, he did not want to sleep. He wanted to stay awake throughout the night, and enjoy the girl’s presence as much as possible. There probably won’t be any more opportunities like this one coming round. The war was brewing and bubbling up, soon to spill over. It was only his horn that kept Ragnarok at bay. For how long? No one knew.
The only thing he knew was that he did not want to let go of the woman in his arms. He looked down at her so fondly and caressed her beautiful face. So soft. So darling. And always smiling so sweetly for him. Why was she trying so hard to appeal to him? To make him talk to her? Why did she like him so much? He was a mere stranger to her - In fact, he was her enemy, and he threatened her family so often. Why did she like him so much? Was she seeing something that not even he could see?
But through the window of his chambers, morning had started bothering him - Why did the light have to come so soon? He was very content the way he was, was it necessary for him to be disturbed? “And I was sleeping so well.” even her sleepy, hoarse voice was lovely. “Sleep some more, then.” he muttered, watching her smile.  “Sounds good to me.” she got even more comfortable, snuggling into his side. What has he become?
But that day was not to remain forever calm, for Atreus had returned, and Odin was having him go on a mission to who knew where. She couldn’t let him go by himself, clearly, so she had to join. Odin did not allow Heimdall to join - Not that Atreus would have wanted to, anyway. He hated that man with all his might. But they had another friend joining - Thor - The man who threatened Y/N previously. It was not going to be a great day.
He was drunk again this day, just after a huge brawl where he destroyed the tavern - Fantastic, might as well get them both killed, then. Still, they had arrived safely at the Eternal Chasm where they were to find the last piece of the magic mask. Niflheim was as frozen as always and somber. And through all this fighting, she surely did not enjoy watching Thor vomit because of his drunken state, nor his previous threatening. He seemed fine - But for how long, she did not know. She will keep herself alert through it all.
Up on a high cliff, Atreus was able to merge the last piece of the mask, though he almost fell, Thor and Y/N held onto him so that he would not perish. In that exact moment, Odin teleported himself before them, praising the boy for his success. But that was not enough. Sif, followed by two valkyries, came by unannounced, threatening Kratos’s two children - They had wanted death, for the crimes committed against the Norse Gods. Odin was livid - At least they wouldn’t die for now. The All Father and Sif were quarreling more and more, but the woman went to her husband and spoke to him - Enough to convince him of rising his weapon and going to attack Atreus and Y/N.
“Any idea?” Y/N grabbed Atreus and pulled him behind her.  “Just one. Hang on tight!” at the moment, her brother pulled her backwards, and they fell into what felt like a loop, and landed harshly onto the ground. “Lucky escape.” the girl gasped loudly. “Damn, Sindri - You sure know how to plan an exit.” the boy almost started laughing from how close to death they were. “Atreus! Y/N!” as soon as Y/N heard her father’s voice, she shot up and jumped on him. “DADDY!” she cried out. “I missed you so much!” “I am glad you are safe, my child.” he only called her that way when they shared a tender moment, and she felt like a little child once again, in their home in old Sparta. “How come you’re here?” Atreus asked, getting up as well. “Sindri told us where you would arrive, should you find trouble.” he explained. “O, daddy, I was really worried about all of you as well.” the girl held onto his hand. “You seem troubled, child. Had anything happened in Asgard?” the girl only smiled wryly. “Daddy... I have done something horrible, and I have no idea how to fix it.” she explained, embracing her father. “Everything can be fixed. If we work together.” though he patted her head, she gave him a negative answer. “No, daddy. This, I have to do alone. It is something that only I can do. O, if only mummy was here, she would know what to do.” she sighed, walking towards the door gate towards their dwarven home. “Wait - Little sister, have you fallen in love?” as soon as Mimir gasped, Atreus gagged loudly. “Urgh, don’t tell me it’s that jerk Heimdall!” he blamed her. “Heimdall?! No way, little brother - There is NO way any person normal in the head would like that asshole!” Mimir tried to defend to girl - But she shook her head. “The heart works in mysterious ways, Mimir. Not Aphrodite, or Eros, or even Anteros themselves know truly the way it works. I just hope I can get him on our side. If only he would realise that Odin is just using him as a tool.” Y/N sighed, raking her fingers through her hair. “Little lass, are you mind possessed or something?” Mimir seemed in complete disbelief. “No, brother. I am just a fool. But worry not, for I have my priorities straight. I have killed one person I love. One more will not stop me.” Kratos did not like hearing such words coming from his daughter. Not only was she taking the blame for her mother’s death, but she was also driven deep into her Spartan general teachings, just like he was, long ago. “I trust you to make the right decisions, Y/N.” the father opened the door for them to enter inside the dwarven home.
Everyone was around the table, and were discussing the matter of the mask and Ragnarok... But something was dubious, at least. Since when was Tyr so pro-active, and why was he sitting at the top of the table, and making up plans for everyone. It was... Odd. Kratos made a speech about the price people have to pay when it comes to seeking easy ways to find answers and knowledge. Tyr kept saying they needed to find a way into Asgard, saying that he will get everyone there safe... With a spear. He also called Atreus Loki.
In that second, Y/N created a spear and threw it at Tyr’s chest - He caught it in his hand though. This only made the girl continue fighting the man. “Odin, show yourself! I know it is you!” Y/N roared at him. “Y/N, please, stop this. We shouldn’t fighting among ourselves.” the fake Tyr kept trying to speak, but was easily overwhelmed by the girl’s prowess. “I will kill you!” she yelled. “NOBODY calls Atreus - LOKI! Only you! Tyr never used a spear, Odin did! And most of all - You do NOT have a way into Asgard, you just want to steal the mask and kill us all! To think you would make a mockery of the God of War - Shame on you, filthy coward! Shame on you!” Atreus had never heard his sister screaming so sternly - It resembled the way father spoke. Was that what she meant by having a different upbringing back in their own country? “I know your secret, Odin. And I know that you killed half a hundred children, to create the ravens that serve as your spies. You are despicable. You are disgusting. You have NO right impersonating Tyr, you filth!” “DO YOU NEVER SHUT UP?!” Tyr’s voice was now Odin’s, and despite all her training, Odin teleported behind her and stabbed her in the back, before getting her in a choke hold. “Tell your father to throw me the mask, or I kill you.” “I’m a Goddess, you absolute half-wit. Your silly little metal cannot kill me.” she gritted her teeth, feeling the knife twisting between the back of her ribs. “How many lies have you fed Heimdall? I know you went to him only to have him allied to you. But do you think my most loyal ally will be swayed by some pretty face? You are wrong. That idiot would die for me if I tell him to. He may be smart, but he does not think. You cannot have him, wench.” Odin spat at her. “The mask now, if you will.” “Never!” Y/N yelled at him. “I regret many things, but killing you won’t be one of them! Release my daughter at once!” Kratos growled at the man. “I am in control here!” Odin began choking her more “No, you are NOT!” with a war cry, Y/N had activated her Spartan Rage and blasted Odin into the opposite wall, shooting beams of life energy, along with plant vines that grew from the ground, attempting to spear the enemy - But he had long since teleported. “Is the Mask safe?!” she asked, rubbing her back. “That knife actually hurt. Huh.” “Come here, reckless child. Odin might have used poison or curses on the blade.” Freya ran behind the girl and started using her magic on her wound. “The mask is safe... Thank goodness.” Atreus sighed, keeping the mask in his grasp. “You got reckless, Y/N.” Kratos grumbled under his breath. “I have two things that I must do, but I have to know what your plans are. I have been away for far too long, I am out of lapse with your plans.” Y/N stretched a bit. “Mimir, you once told us that Odin can shapeshift into another person and be in two places at once, but that person has to be alive. Tyr is alive, and I know where he is. I just need to find the Ravenkeeper and release the souls of the children that Odin trapped. The prison is somewhere around here.” Y/N explained her plan. “So my stories are finally helping! Good!” Mimir cheered happily. “Secondly... We know Ragnarok is brought by Gjallarhorn being blown. Heimdall still has it. I need to lure him somehow and have a talk to him. If all else fails, I will steal the horn from him and bring it home.” she continued her plan. “We have to save Yngvi and bring him home. He is the only who can unite the elves from Alfheim and have them fight for us.” Freya spoke. “Sounds good to me. I will go rescue Tyr and go to Vanaheim when I’m done. How does that sound?” Y/N asked, getting in her stoic general mode. “It is far too dangerous to go on your own.” Kratos spoke. “No. It is safer that way. Anyone else would slow me down. You know I work better alone. If anything else goes down, I can just run away. Uncle Hermes had given me the best gift, and I know how to use it.” Y/n winked at the grumbling man. “Little sister, the Ravenkeeper is a terrible foe. Are you sure you will be alright?” Mimir was worried, just as everyone else. “I want Odin dead as much as everyone.” she spoke. “Oh, and... If we encounter Heimdall... I will speak to him alone. Understood?” though some were confused, they had agreed. “Wonderful! I’m off. Bye.” with a lazy sign off, Y/N disappeared before they could even blink. “Then let us go to Vanaheim and rescue Freyr. We need a plan.” Atreus stepped in, and the group set off for the realm soon after.
Through a valiant fight, Y/N was able to defeat the Ravenkeeper once she finished tracking down the last two raven spies remaining, and thus, she was able to liberate the children’s souls and even have them work as spies for her party. This allowed her to find the hidden prison where Tyr and some other were kept, and she released them. Now, they were all on their side, wanting revenge on Odin. Though worried of Ragnarok, the inevitable was going to happen.
Y/N sent everyone back at the dwarves’ house, between realms, leaving them to explain plans and what not, while she went in search of the party in Freya’s sacred realm. It didn’t take long to navigate through it, following the obvious tracks of destruction that the retinue left on their way to saving Freyr. By the time she arrived at what looked like an old court, she noticed Kratos and Mimir fighting Heimdall. “ENOUGH!” Y/N yelled, getting in between the fight and pushing them away.  “Ah, yes, Princess Peaceful has arrived. Here to give me more anti-Odin propaganda?” Heimdall laughed.  “Y/N, you cannot fight him alone! He is untouchable without this weapon.” but Kratos received a simple signal to shut up and mind his business. “I do not mean to fight you, Heimdall. I just wanted to ask if you knew how Odin created his raven spies.” the girl asked, standing a few steps away, her hands behind her back. “Huh? What the hell kind of question is that?” he had a weird look on his face. “Mummy and daddy/ Tied the noose tight / To send us to Odin / To bask in his light.” Y/N recited the poem she had heard from the ravens.  “Wh-What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Heimdall seemed pretty freaked out. “We tried to escape / We clawed, we screeched / But nothing escapes / The Keeper’s reach.” she continued. “Odin forced families to hang their children and send their souls to Odin, to serve as spies. They had to watch their children struggle as they slowly suffocated and clawed away at the rope and their own throats, but with no avail.” Y/N explained.  “Well, so what? That has nothing to do with the war. So what if... Children were killed?” though he had his loyalties set, he wasn’t happy about the knowledge of dead children either. “Odin tried to kill me today. Do you know what he told me? Actually - How about you look into my eyes and see for yourself? Or, should I show you a projection of the happenings of today?” she asked, extending her hand and showing what happened at the two’s house. Especially the part when Odin slanders the man before her. “Stop trying to pit me against the All Father! Don’t think that just because I let you sleep in my bed, I would drop Odin’s cause!” Heimdall sneered at the girl. “Odin dropped anyone who lost their need. Do you think he would have kept you around, were it not for your Foresight?” the girl asked. “Remember how he treated you when I and Atreus first arrived in Asgard? He yelled and scolded you. Said you don’t think... Though, I am inclined to agree. You are a smart man, and very witty, yet if you actually thought it over, you would have realised that Odin does not treasure and cherish you as you deserve.” Y/N sighed, but with each step she took towards him, Heimdall took a step back. “Please, my dear, do not run away from me. I do not wish to inflict any harm on you. I wish us not to have to fight.” “Well, I do not care what you wish!” Heimdall yelled at her - Only to blink and find himself being hugged tightly from behind. “What do you think you are doing?! Y/N, let go of me at once!” “I am not holding you prisoner against your will. You can walk away at all times. But I want you to know that what I am feeling for you is genuine. Whether you want to accept or not, it is your choice.” she spoke. “You are loyal to Odin, not to his convictions, yet you fail to see that if Odin wins this war, only he will benefit, everyone else will suffer. All the realms, and even many Aesir. I know you do not care for the well-being of others - They do not care for you either - But do you truly want to see nine realms bowing to one man’s power-hunger?” the girl asked, her hands gripping onto him tighter. “Enough of this, Y/N! I have not come here to chat, I have come here to kill you. Now, if you would be a dear, step aside so I can get on with the killing.” though he tried to pry away her hands from him, he was unable to. “Y/N. Last warning. Step aside. Now.” his voice was more threatening now. “Will fighting me make you feel better? Will it make you see the truth in my words? Will it help you think for yourself?” the girl asked, keeping her grip on him. “No, it will not. I do not believe a word that you say, and since the very beginning, I was convinced that you are trying to drive a rift between my loyalty and the All Father.” he groaned, feeling Y/N step away from him, and getting in front. “So you want to be the first who dies today? Fine. I have had enough patience with you. I let you fool around around already.” Kratos remembers the speed with which Hermes once taunted him, and saw how both Heimdall and his daughter were dancing around, tripping and threatening each other, stealing hits and kicks here and there. Mimir, also, was shocked that someone was actually able to outwit the God of Foresight, who was known to be untouchable.  “I allowed you to see into my eyes, to read my mind - Even now, you cannot see the trick. Even now, you cannot see, that I have never lied to you. That I am being genuine. I know it is not easy, going against everything you have ever stood for - But please, see reason. I want only what is the best for you. Truthfully.” she spoke, continuing to trip and side-step him, but not even once trying to hit him. “Stop going easy on me! You think you’re such a great warrior, just because you know how to block me? How stupid of you! Fight me properly!” he yelled at her, only to see her stop dead in her tracks. “I will not.” she spoke defiantly, angering him enough to stomp her way, towering over her menacingly. “FIGHT ME NOW, WOMAN!” he roared at her, anger in his voice for the first time addressed to her. “I WILL NOT FIGHT YOU!” she spoke loud and stern, looking deep into those beautiful, shining purple eyes of his. “WHY?! DO YOU THINK YOU’RE SUPERIOR TO ME?! DO YOU THINK I’M SUCH AN EASY KILL?!” he did not expect that, instead of an answer, the girl would take him by surprise, cupping his face and bringing him into a longing kiss. “Because I do not wish to fight the man I love.” her answer left him flabbergast, and if his head was once filled with tons of thoughts, now, it was empty. “Heimdall, I mean it. I do not want to fight you. I do not wish to harm you. I never did. From the moment I first laid my eyes on you, I wanted to get to know you better, to understand you. You are a beautiful man, though severely misunderstood. Please, believe me. You are very dear to me.” the girl leaned in, to whisper into his ear. “I fell in love with you, Heimdall.” Heimdall was frozen in place, and unable to think or move. How was he supposed to react to such a bold declaration? How was he supposed to process such a thing? To speak, or even reply? “GAHHHHHH!” he pushed himself from her embrace, and held his head into his hands. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing to me? You are ruining EVERYTHING! You think you’re oh, so smart! That you know me so well! That you can understand me! But all you’re trying to do is alienate me! Damn it, and damn you, Y/N!” though he glared at her, one look into her upset, beautiful eyes made him roar even more. In a fit of rage, he took the horn from his hip and threw it to the ground. “HERE! THERE YOU HAVE IT! GO AHEAD AND CALL FOR RAGNAROK! ISN’T THAT ALL YOU EVER WANTED FROM ME ANYWAY?!” “No. I wanted you - And I wanted you safe, most of all. Please, believe me.” Heimdall turned his back at her, walking away. “When Ragnarok comes, I hope you will stay safe. I want to find you alive when it is over.”
The Aesir growled under his breath as he disappeared from sight. The fact that he did not read a single lie from her speech made him feel even more conflicted than before. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just abandon Odin, could he? But he also did not want Y/N to die. To hell with everybody else, especially Loki of the Jotnar - Oh, how done with everything he was. 
Once he returned, however, he could not believe how he was ostracized by the All Father. He accused him of siding with the enemy, and aiding them, with giving them the Gjallarhorn. In his rage, the All Father banished Heimdall away from his own beautiful home in Asgard. How dare he? After everything he has done - All his life of servitude, only for him - Now, he is banished? 
Heimdall had never felt more confused and betrayed in his long life. Where was he supposed to go now? The war was going to start. He wasn’t going to hide away in fear - He is a warrior, and will act that way. If Odin does not want him, then Y/N will take him. Right?
Once he heard the sound of Ragnarok being called, he knew where he had to go. He knew where he was needed. Heimdall had arrived just when the time called for action, to catch Y/N after she had been hit away by Thor’s hammer. The man held her up in his arms bridal style, smirking cockily down at her. “What a damsel in distress you have become, Y/N. I almost couldn’t recognise you.” the man laughed at her. “You are safe...! I am so happy to see you well!” the relief and glee on her face as she threw her arms around his neck made it worth while. Heimdall now realised that all the centuries of indoctrination meant nothing compared to one person’s genuine feelings. “Yes, sweet cheeks, I am safe and very fine. You know very well there is no one who can touch me. Now, how about we get that half-breed brother of mine the treatment he deserves before we beat Odin to death and give him the Blood Eagle treatment - And before he dies, we strangle him, just like he did with those kids?” that wicked grin of his only made the girl bring him in another kiss. “I love the sound of that!”
With Odin killing Thor and the party killing Odin, Tyr and Atreus’s Jotnar friend Angrboda were able to save everyone and teleport them to safety. Since then, with peace throughout the nine realms, Freya was able to save and govern Vanaheim, while Freyr was to keep the peace up in Alfheim. Brok, Sindri and Lunda helped Durlin with rebuilding Svartalfheim, Thrud and Sif were helping around Asgard, Skjoldr was the spokesperson in Midgard and Atreus and Angrboda went to travel the realms whilst Tyr went to find his peace.
Kratos rebuilt his old home and would often roast food outside by the fire, Mimir on the log next to him, watching his daughter laughing and singing merrily, dressed in her old Greek dress, dancing with the once insufferable God of Foresight, who was twirling her around, and planting kisses all over her face, almost as if to tick her father off on purpose.
“How the hell did a jerk like him get a fine lass like her to fall for him?! Brother, I cannot understand!” Mimir would groan, watching with annoyance at the two were dancing so perfectly in sync, and their voices were harmonizing so well. “I do not know, but I do not like it.” Kratos grumbled under his breath. “Her mother would have understood better than me.” he continued, watching the two kissing again, with more love and passion than before.  “Aye, brother. Time for a premature sleep today. No time for lil’ old us anymore.” Mimir spoke as Kratos lifted him, and entered the house, giving the two some privacy. “Finally! No more parent supervision. Your two old men sure are annoying.” Heimdall chuckled, pulling her flush against his chest. “That just means we have to find a new realm and have our fun there.” she spoke, raking her fingers through his platinated unbraided hair. “You should leave your hair down more often. You look so beautiful.” her sweet smile made chuckle lightly, before he cupped her face and brought her into yet another kiss. “And you should wear dresses like this one more often. You are beautiful.”
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grievedeeply · 1 year
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I saw god of war in ur fandom list and got so excited! I love a good opposites attract trope so maybe some HCs of Kratos with a s/o that is a goddess of peace?
i love this idea and i haven't written for kratos much, so thank you for requesting and i hope you enjoy!!
gn!reader | no tws
tags: @graciegizmo3184 @anzanishira @chocokaylarobin @uncoveredsun @caelestis-lyrae @prio-motu @bluehorizon987 @freyrees @ieatmarbles @rohansregret @konigd1cks0ck @smilesdarling | join my taglist !!
opposites attract with kratos headcanons
oh.... this man
he feels so unworthy of you in every way. before you got together, he felt that way about your friendship. you radiate kindness, sweetness.. it was something he cherished, but he felt undeserving
you'll have to reassure him that he's the only one you want. he will never verbally tell you he feels that way, but it's easy to
as the god/goddess of peace, he wonders how you ever managed to fall for him. the god of war— a man who has killed many. some deserving, but some were not
though, you're proud of him. you're a believer in growth and change. you know that this journey has been a hard one for him, and you'll make sure he knows how much you adore him
you're like sunshine to him. you keep him going. you're like a bright light at the end of the darkest tunnel. he loves you, but he will never be sure of why you love him, too
he expected it to be an unrequited love. one where he never gets to be with you. he was okay with that. after all, you deserved better than him
he'll always think that way, no matter how much you tell him that you only have eyes for him. he's insecure on his own character
he believes you, of course.. but he doesn't know why you want to be with him more than anyone else there is out there
if you explain to him how you feel about him, his chest will get really warm. it means a lot to him to hear it coming from your mouth
he's so protective of you. he knows you can handle yourself but it means nothing to him. you're one of the only things keeping him going. he needs you around. he wants you in his life
he will never understand why you fell for someone like him. he thinks of himself as cruel and ruthless, but you saw right through him
you saw the love in his heart. the compassion. you saw more in him the first time you met then he ever will
he's grateful you love him. he doesn't know where he would he without you :")
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ravenloop · 1 year
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Headcannons: Heimdall, Thor and Odin w/ Reader who always carries food on them
AN: Had to write this asap cause I couldn't resist
Request: Heya, Heya!! Reread your Heimdall fic a couple times and it got me thinking of a head cannon request if you do that!
This is a request for God of War Ragnarok(I as least want Hiemdall, Odin, and Thor but you can add whoever)
And this is a fun type headcannon where the reader can randomly pull out food from nowhere. It’s not magic, they just always have food on them. They would even sometimes be randomly eating at the worse/awkward times
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Heimdall:
Being the god of foresight and knowledge, Heimdall expected everything that would happen next.
But honestly, nothing could have prepared him for when you pulled out food from thin air.
He thinks you pulled it from thin air anyways, until you tell him that you just always have food on you.
His initial reaction to that is to ask, "...Why? The mess hall is not that far." You just shrug and respond, "You never know when you could want it. And plus, I'm not gonna walk all the way to the mess hall everytime I feel like eating."
Okay. Fair point.
It's times like these when Heimdall wonders how he ended up with someone as... Random as you could be. All the more reason to love you he guesses.
At some point he even learns to love your little hobby of keeping food on you. Sometimes he's too caught up in patrolling on the wall that he forgets to eat, then you come along with the food you carry and he just eats and talks to you.
Heimdall also lives for the looks of confusion on people's faces when they see you take out food like you just pulled it from another realm.
To this day Heimdall still kinda suspects that you do. You like making fun of him for it.
"Bet you couldn't forsee that." Cue a long, exaggerated sigh.
Also please do not eat while there's a literal fight going on. He loves you, he really does. But he'd rather have you alive than die because you were too busy munching.
He swears he even saw you offering a snack to the enemy at one point.
Thor:
He absolutely loves it.
Like the first time you do it, he laughs so loud you swear it could be heard throughout Asgard.
Thor doesn't even question where you got the food from, he's just immediately laughing and pulling you into a bone crushing hug.
You can literally see the hearts in his eyes whenever you do it, it's like he just fell in love with you for the first time again.
Also don't expect your food to be all for you whenever you pull it out to eat, because Thor will immediately be at your side eating it as well.
It's like a way to summon him honestly.
Like how some spirits require rituals to be summoned - Thor just needs food. It's the same for you honestly. Which is probably why everyone says you two are the perfect couple.
If anyone ever makes fun of you or comments on how you carry food everywhere, they can kiss their life goodbye cause Thor won't tolerate it.
He also doesn't give a crap if you eat during a fight, you did it during one of his bar fights and he took a break to eat with you cause why the hell not?
In conclusion, this man is hooked.
Odin:
The first time you do it is when he's talking to you about a plan of some sort.
He's about to turn but immediately does a double take when he sees the food in your hand.
Was that there before? Surely not.
It's funny seeing him trying to figure it out, you can see the gears turning in his head and you have to stifle a laugh.
After a short moment you tell him that you just carry food on you.
He's a little embarrassed that he didn't think of that first and goes, "Ah." Then he walks off, contemplating what just happened.
It's not that it bothers him or anything, it's just... Huh? Where does one even store that much food?? Do you have magic pockets or something??
You should be prideful, you managed to confuse Odin - the Allfather. Not many get to do that or even live when they do, you lucky, lucky person.
He learns to just not question it, he'll just end up more confused than he started off as. And unless you're planning to take over the 9 realms using your meals then he has nothing to worry about.
Hearing you eat has become a background noise for him now and he sometimes even gets worried when he doesn't hear you eating.
Huginn and Muninn also love you because you always let them peck at your food, despite Odin telling you not to let them.
You once ate while Thor and Odin were arguing in his study - was very awkward and very tense, 10/10 do not recommend doing it again but you likely will.
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AN: I started this at 4am and somehow only finished it at 6 - DJSKJSKD ENJOY ❤️
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greatlydelirious · 1 year
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𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞
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Kratos x F!Reader 
wordcount: 4.1k words
summary: Two lost souls find comfort in each other’s company.
warnings: slow-burn, falling in love, angst, fluff, bedsharing, lore heavy
a/n: This is a teaser of a scene between the reader and Kratos in the giant fic, “Of Gods and Men” that I’m writing. This is my “proof of concept” for you guys that I’m actually working on it. (The reader is OC in regards to some characteristics, but skin color is not specified.)
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“…There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.” - Homer, The Iliad
Voices ignite like fueled flames outside Kratos’s bedroom as someone enters Sindri’s home. Not just anyone can stir up that much ruckus though. The arrival of Kratos always elicited a flurry of questions and action. Despite your want to check on the god you don’t move from your supine position on the hard bed.
You continue to count the cracks in the ceiling above as if the number you came up with would unearth some deep truth within yourself. Time became a foreign concept as you tried to convince your body to relax. Sleep is elusive to you despite your mind’s craving for rest. Sindri told you, just as he did Atreus, that sleeping would make all the troubles of your mind work themselves out. Easier said than done.
That’s how you find yourself on a bed that’s not yours. One that you’ve only slept in once but couldn’t forget the feeling of. The furs below smell of him, earthy with notes of smoke and musk that remind you of the lush jungles in your home realm of Vanaheim.
Home.
It had been centuries since the last time you felt the security of such an ideal. To the dismay of your fickle heart, you felt that sense of contentment that comes with being home merely weeks ago in the arms of another. Someone you tried to remind yourself you couldn’t have. Someone who, like you, made a pact to never let themselves be kept in mind or body to another again.
-
It’s strange how night devolved hardened hearts into feeling such soft vulnerability. Memories have a way of burrowing deep in the brains of even those who try to forget. You’re sitting at the dining table in front of the roaring furnace. The warmth doesn’t completely stave off the coldness that stems from more than just the weather.
Sindri’s home is filled with a rare stillness, but it only works to grate on your nerves rather than bring you peace. Solace is nearly impossible to find in a world full of gods and men. Throw in the endless monsters and magic, and the notion is nothing but a fantasy for the whimsical. That you are not.
Your head darts up when a large shadow appears across the table. Wood groans as Kratos settles in the seat. It’s not often that the two of you get to sit in each other’s company alone without having other things on your mind like hunting or survival. The gripes of being a god and goddess in the opposition to the All-Father are endless.
“Can’t sleep either?”
Kratos grunts in response as he reaches for the pitcher of mead abandoned in the middle of the table. He fills the large tankard next to it to the brim before putting the pitcher back down with a weighty thump. You watch transfixed as Kratos’s adam’s apple bobs with each pull he takes from the cup.
The veins in his neck bulge and when some droplets of mead spill from the corners of his mouth, you can’t help but trail their path down his beard. For a moment you forget what was keeping you up in the first place.
“Something troubles you.”
A statement, not a question.
“I’m fine, Kratos. My woes matter not.” You feign indifference as you lean back in your chair, like his notice of your mood doesn’t make your heart leap in your chest.
Kratos leans forward, his hulking form hovering over some of the table, “Speak the truth, woman.” The word woman comes out in a growl, lingering with a threat that would never be followed through. Yet, it’s still effective enough to make you give in.
Your eyes move to focus on the expertly crafted wooden surface under your hands. Calmness is common nature for you, but something about Kratos’s piercing gaze makes you fumble to find words. Dryness coats your mouth as if your body was cursed to not utter your torment.
“I had a twin sister once. Her name was Hnoss, everyone always said we were identical, but I still think she was prettier. She…”
When your voice begins to crack you stop. Emotions you’ve suppressed for hundreds of years come bubbling to the surface. Thinking about your sister was one thing, but voicing it out loud made it all too real again. Like she’s not what haunts your dreams, but the young girl you once played in ponds and climbed trees with.
“Go on.”
The earnestness makes you chance a glance up. A small, sad smile curves your lips at the sight of Kratos’s focus trained on you. He may not say much, but he always listened. No wonder Mimir didn’t mind being stuck with the man.
“She often went to Bifröst, a rainbow bridge that reaches between Midgard and Asgard, hoping to run into our father. People predicted that Hnoss would reunite our parents. Alas, hope is not always enough to alter reality.”
Kratos slides his tankard toward you, giving you a moment of reprieve without a word. Picking it up, you swirl the amber ale with a twinge of bitterness. Normally you would say gods made pitiful fathers. That was until you met Kratos and Atreus.
The god makes a habit of surpassing expectations.
Sending a quick prayer to the lost goddess mother of Vanaheim you take a giant swig of the mead. Soft notes of bready malt accompany aromatics with a musty, oaky finish coats your tongue. A clicking noise escaped through your teeth as you cringe at the overpowering taste.
The sound of Kratos humming in approval grounds you from your wandering thoughts. You nod at him in appreciation before taking a steadying breath and continuing,
“During her visits, there was a god by the name of Heimdall who kept watch over the rainbow bridge that would entertain her with stories of old and new. One day he revealed to Hnoss that he possessed night vision and never slept. He also claimed to have existed since the beginning of time and told her tales about the creation of various things.
While our father remained absent, Hnoss was taken to Baldur's Stead to comfort her in her sorrow since it was believed to be a place where healing occurred. Baldur’s wife Nanna would often cradle her during these times of profound need. One time in particular, with Nanna by her side, Hnoss shared a strange dream she had about Queen Hela, a queen who was half living woman and half corpse. In her dream, Hela entered Asgard and declared ‘A lord of the Aesir I must have to dwell with me in my realm beneath the earth.’ Hnoss was paralyzed by fear after experiencing this dream.”
You take another swig from the tankard before handing it back to Kratos. Obsidian eyes stay locked on you as their owner downs the rest of its contents.
“What happened to your sister?”
“Hnoss was never the same after that. They say that those who use seidr magic will eventually succumb to the evils of its art. Unfortunately for her, it was true. Similar to Baldur, she died a needless death.”
And just like all of the Vanir people. Many of their lives were taken by the power-hungry Aesir for no other reason than greed. Peace in these realms always comes at a price.
“So that’s why I’m troubled, Kratos. Now my own dreams are filled by her. No matter how hard I try to forget.”
Kratos hums in acknowledgment, “I too know the pain of losing a sibling.”
Comfortable silence hangs between the two of you for a couple of minutes. The time is filled with unspoken understanding lined with a sense of melancholy.
“Drink.”
Kratos seems to present a bottle of wine out of nowhere but you don’t hesitate to accept it. Not even gods are above drinking their sorrows away. Another pitcher of mead and bottle of wine later and you’re drunk. Loose-lipped, fumbled-word, soft-legged drunk.
You’re currently giggling like a fool as you lean against the bedroom door simply staring at Kratos while he sits on his bed. When you started to create too much of a ruckus in the living room he took into his room since you refused to leave his side. You’d slap yourself in the forehead for that fact the following days later.
“Come.”
Your feet move before your mind can fully process the command. It’s as if your body is compelled to obey him without hesitation. The idea goes against everything you stand for. You ran from the one home you’d ever known and the one man that ever truly loved you, because of your refusal to submit to any man or god. Thankfully, the mead-fueled haze creeping into your brain keeps you from spiraling any further.
Kratos tilts his head to look up at you as you stand between his thick legs. A lazy smile spreads across your face and before you can think you lift your hand to cup his cheek. Although he captures your wrist, he doesn’t pry you away. Tentatively, your thumb rubs small circles into the rough flesh.
For a moment he indulges in your touch, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. You smell like vanilla with a citrus charge of tangerine and cinnamon. Something tantalizingly sweet, forbidden.
A rumbling noise emanates from Kratos’s chest when your thumb ghosts along the scar on his right eye. You wonder how he got the nasty slice. What god put it there many years ago. Unfortunately, Kratos is still a mystery to you. Bits and pieces of his life are shared sparingly through short stories during long journeys, but nothing else beyond that.
Nothing else beyond that. The four words ring in your ears. What are you doing? It’s not your right to be in his room, near his bed, and touching him of all things. You are companions, sure. Friends? Maybe. But partners? Nothing of the sort.
Any semblance of tipsiness you had quickly evaporates, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ You stop when Kratos brings his other hand to your hip, squeezing lightly.
“No need to explain. Not to me.”
Your hand drops when he moves to lay on his side on the bed. Kratos scoots back until his back is against the wall.
“Lay.”
When you hesitate, he pats the small space in front of him in an almost comedic fashion due to his large size, “Lay, agápi”
The word he calls you is spoken in a language you’ve never heard before, but he says it with such tenderness that it makes you slide into the bed. You start to think you’ve been sleeping this whole time when Kratos wraps a thick arm around your waist to pull you flush against his front. After three years of pining, you’re in the arms of the man you admired. The sudden realization is almost too much.
“Will you tell me a story from your homeland?”
Kratos’s silence at your abrupt question makes you huff out a laugh. Butterflies were swarming in your belly and if you didn’t do something about them you would never fall asleep.
Was it childish for you to ask for a bedtime story? Perhaps. But this might be the last time you get to have Kratos to yourself like this. You gently nudge him with your leg. It doesn’t even slightly jostle the mountain of a man, but it does keep his attention.
“Come on! An old man like yourself must know hundreds.”
After a beat, Kratos sounds almost bashful if that emotion was even possible for the god, “There’s this… poem.”
“What’s it about?
“A cunning general and a war over forbidden love.”
Ironic.
“Is it based on truth?”
“Yes, but I prefer the poem.”
You giggle at the displeasure lacing his tone.
“Can you recite a line for me?”
Kratos grunts at the way your tired eyes have you looking at him through your lashes. You’re the picture of innocence and natural beauty. It stirs something inside him that’s laid dormant for years. He would say Aphrodite’s beauty paled in comparison to yours, but you’re more than that. You’re a beauty beyond comparison wrapped in a warm light.
“I wish that strife would vanish away from among gods and mortals, and gall, which makes a man grow angry for all his great mind, that gall of anger that swarms like smoke inside of a man's heart and becomes a thing sweeter to him by far than the dripping of honey.”
You twist your head to the side to look back at Kratos. The darkness in the room keeps his features hidden yet you still can’t help but smile. A truly genuine, happy smile despite the small crookedness from your drunken state.
“Wow… I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say in one breath. Didn’t think you were one for lovely words.”
Kratos makes a low noise in his throat, contemplating for a moment if letting you in his room, in his bed, was really a good idea. When you suddenly snuggle back into his front, he doesn’t move a muscle. Your soft and warm against the hard expanse of his chest. The word “comforting” comes to the forefront of his mind but he tries his best to suppress the feeling.
Only to fail when you open your mouth again.
“The totality of emotions can either make or break a man. Let them in, Kratos.” Your voice oozes drowsiness encompassed by a softness you saved for his son Atreus. It’s an inflection filled with sweet sincerity and motherly care.
When a light snore reaches his ears, Kratos looks down at your face. You’re already sound asleep. His arms tighten a fraction before letting himself close his eyes. He told himself it was just for a night.
It’s never that simple.
For long seconds after you woke up the next morning you took in the sleeping man’s face. His features were free of stressed lines and his usual frown. Kratos looked even more handsome under the lull of sleep.
His arms were secured around you like a lifeline. It wasn’t a lover’s embrace, but the comfort of another person’s body aiding you both into a dreamless sleep. Although, it would be a lie if you said your heart didn’t flutter when you woke up to his face buried in your neck, the scruff of his beard making your skin prickle and heat.
You managed to slip out of the bed without waking the beast of a man. A feat when he held you so tight. When you made it to the door you chanced one more look back at Kratos, a heaviness settling inside you. For days you’ll blame your abrupt intimacy on you both drinking, but it would take oceans of alcohol to muddy the god’s mind.
Kratos never said anything about that night; never said that you helped him have the first truly peaceful sleep in his lifetime.
-
The sane part of your brain is cursing you for laying in Kratos’s bed like a loyal dog waiting for its master. Especially when he gave you no inkling that your presence was wanted. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you flinch when the door opens.
Kratos doesn’t falter at your uninvited presence as he shuts the bedroom door with a heavy sigh. You sit up on his bed as he takes off his armor with rough hands, letting the items loudly clank to the floor with little care. The blades go first, then his cuffs, and the axe.
Concern fills you at his sullen state. Emotions can only be bottled up for so long and Kratos was an expert at doing just that. You know he doesn’t want your help, but he needed it more than he’ll ever admit.
“You carry your burdens with you in mind and hand.” Your eyes trail to his Blades of Chaos on the floor. They act as physical reminders of the pain and suffering he caused not only strangers and gods, but the ones he loved the most.
“What do you know of carrying burdens?” His voice is gruff, but not fueled with malice.
“Don’t you remember that night?”
Guilt washes over Kratos’s features as remembrance dawns on him. The furrow of his brows and the twitch of his jaw is evidence enough. Sighing, you scoot to the edge of the bed, “I will not claim to understand your suffering Kratos, but I do know what it means to be lost. To follow your path while being confused as to why you must. To wonder why you get to live when they don’t.”
Kratos’s shoulders are visibly tense as you stare up at him. Standing up, an idea pops into your head that is so outlandish that you whisper it in hopes that he doesn’t completely hear it.
“For just one night give your burdens to me. Let me take care of you, Kratos. Someone needs to. Let that someone be me.”
A part of you doesn’t think but knows he will reject you. Especially when those eyes filled with shadows stare at yours unblinking and unwavering in their passivity. Who were you to ask for something so personal?
A love-sick fool, that’s who.
Every fiber of your being is pulled toward Kratos, but that doesn’t mean the feeling is mutual. Dejection washes over you at your boldness fueled by foolish hope. Right when you’re going to walk away, Kratos clears his throat.
“Okay.”
You blink at him like a small child would at the sight of a giant bear. Odin himself must have been playing a trick on you because you can’t believe that Kratos just accepted your proposition. For a solid minute, you stay standing with your chests inches apart.
Heat blooms in your cheeks as you become acutely aware of your closeness. Every deep breath he takes causes his taut stomach to brush against you. Your neck starts to feel the strain of having to crane back to make eye contact with him.
“Do I need to speak in even simpler words?” Kratos’s deep voice snaps you out of your gawking. Never had a man made you feel like a mere mortal; let alone make you like the idea of being overpowered.
“I-“ You clear your throat, finally letting the air dense with an unspoken tension fill your lungs, “N-no.”
Unconsciously, you rub your hands on your trousers and take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Sit on the bed.”
Kratos follows your command without question. Carefully, you crawl behind him on the bed and prop yourself on your knees. The skin under your hands tenses when you bring them up to rest on his shoulders.
“Relax. I mean you no harm. I swear.”
Your voice is just above a whisper and laced with sincerity. You begin to knead the endless knots that harden Kratos’s shoulders. The endless burdens he carries on his back would crush any mortal. When Kratos lets out a satisfied groan you have to bite your lip to stifle out a noise of your own.
Now’s not the time to start frothing at the mouth.
Instead of letting yourself turn into a pathetic puddle of suppressed desire, you opt to continue your efforts to comfort.
“We will get to Asgard. Atreus was raised by a strong man. I know he is doing more than fine.”
“A strong man perhaps, but not a noble one.”
Your thumbs travel down to press into the rigid flesh of his shoulder blades while you scoff.
“What does it mean to be noble? You are strong, courageous, watchful, full of wisdom, and give astute instruction. Those are very noble traits.”
Kratos shakes his head, “You do not know the extent of my sins.”
You sigh at the persistence of his inadequacy. How could he not see that his obvious guilt was the biggest indicator of his good heart? Your hands move to his bulky chest to lightly rub the muscles.
“We are more than the sum of our parts, Kratos. Bad deeds cannot be undone, but what we do after is what matters most. We must be better, work harder, and do whatever it takes to keep the realms from falling into chaos.”
At your words, Kratos takes hold of your wrists, “Where did you hear that?”
“I heard that from centuries of living. From reaching the lowest I could possibly go and coming out of it stronger than I was before.”
You move so you’re next to his side and only hesitate for a fraction of a second before you bring a hand to his cheek. Kratos doesn’t resist as you turn his head with the gentle guidance of your palm. Instinctively your thumb gently rubs back and forth against his rough flesh. The gesture feels different than the last time. It’s more intimate, rawer.
“You’re a good man, father, and friend, but if you continue to let the past dictate your future you will never see that for yourself.” You bring your other hand up to rest on the middle of his chest, “Open your heart. I promise it will only serve to make you stronger, not weaker.”
The way Kratos is looking into your eyes leaves you breathless. It’s almost like he’s seeing you for the first time. Not your outward appearance, but the depths of your soul.
Unlike usual, the silence that fills the room is stifling. So much so that your skin begins to heat, a humid tension that rivals Vanaheim hanging in the air. Maybe you said too much. Maybe you’re silly for spewing your opinions to a man who didn’t ask for them. Maybe this is what it feels like to love someone that’s out of your grasp.
Dejected by your imprudence you leave him with one last thought, “The totality of emotions can either make or break a man. What will it do to you?”
When you try to climb off the bed, one of Kratos’s hands shoots out to grab your bicep.
“Where are you going, woman.”
His voice is deep and reminds you of the forcefulness of booming thunder. One that shakes you more than Thor could ever make. Swallowing thickly, you advert your eyes to the ground, “I don’t want to disturb you any further.”
“Stay.”
Without another word, you let Kratos slowly pull you down on the bed. Half of your body lays on him as he rests his chin on your head. He feels safe and solid, protecting and proud. If only he can see what you see. If only he can feel what you feel.
You let yourself indulge in being in Kratos’s arms just like before and close your eyes. In seconds your body relaxes. Exhaustion mixed with the tidal wave of emotions you’ve gone through makes the perfect sedative.
Kratos watches your breathing slow as you go lax on his chest. He can’t help but admire you in the secrecy of your sleep.
The light shining through the window casts a glowing effect on your long locks, making it seem as though a halo is over your head. Your hair reminds him of the sunsets in Sparta, golden and awe-inspiring. More than that you remind him of that comforting feeling that comes with being where one belongs.
Home.
When Kratos grunts at the absurdity of his thoughts, the noise causes your leg around his hip to tighten. He carefully traces your spine with the tips of his thick fingers. You’re so small and fragile in his hold, like a mouse cuddling in a bear’s den during a frigid winter despite the looming danger.
You’re unlike any goddess he’s met before; calm, kind of heart, strong, and free from the chains of greed that comes with a being with that kind of power. You told Kratos to open his heart and be better for the future. Only one other woman told him those exact words.
“The culmination of love is grief. And yet we love despite the inevitable; we open our hearts to it. To grieve deeply is to have loved fully. Open your heart to the world as you have opened it to me and you will find every reason to keep living in it.”
An epiphany hits Kratos so hard that it causes him to hold you tighter to his chest.
You’re something to live for.
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Any and all interactions are greatly appreciated.
greek translation: agápi = love
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hello-gloomy · 3 months
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*Y/n walks back in after hunting while Kratos guards the house*
Y/n: Alright it's baby time!
Y/n: Pants off Kratos!
Mimir: '-'
Y/n: Didn't see ya there Mimir
Kratos: *shaking his head*
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r0ttingj3lly · 1 year
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Queztal and Atreus being the best of siblings and Kratos being the best dad.
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kakashiislut · 1 year
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athena-the-writer · 1 year
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It’s Kratos being so soft for Faye that makes me fall even harder for him
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nickgoesinsane · 1 year
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blessed be i
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kratos x reader
cw: nsfw (minors dni), sub!kratos, dom!reader, gn!reader - amab, anal fingering, body worship, praise kink, strength kink, mating press, the reader is one cheeky mf, creampie, cum eating, uhhh magic cum?, etc.
word count: 1366
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“You know,” You casually begin, a smile tugging at your mouth as you sink a third oil slick finger into the tight heat of Kratos’ asshole, “this isn’t usually how I receive a god’s blessing.” Though your tone is filled with teasing, you can’t help your excitement. It’s not often that you have the pleasure of enjoying new experiences, much less those that don’t involve violence. 
The god grunts, rolling his eyes, but rolls his hips into the scissoring of your fingers. His cock rests over his belly, flushed and weeping precum over his muscles. You can feel his strength, his power, simmering right under his skin. The fact that you didn’t need to go on a ridiculously complicated quest or fight him like you have other gods ignites a deep desire within you. A god like him, strong enough to slay an entire pantheon but kind enough to spare the world, is more than deserving of the worship you offer. 
You grab the bottle of oil and withdraw your fingers, taking a moment to admire the slight gape of his asshole. You tip the glass, thoroughly wetting your digits before setting it aside again. Kratos groans lowly as you slowly slip four fingers into his hole, up to the last knuckle, and gently press the pad of your thumb against his perineum. The teasing of his prostate from two places makes his fingers curl and fist the furs, little pearls of arousal wetting his length. 
Kratos glances at the closed door of the hut, possibly worried that his son will come looking for him. You curl your fingers with enough pressure to make his back arch and smile down at him. “Atreus is safe and entertained.” You reassure him, then proceed to bend down and use the flat of your tongue to trace the prominent vein on the side of his cock. “My steed will make sure of that.” You’d more or less shoved the boy towards the griffin, who was more than eager to receive Atreus’ pets and hugs.
“Make this quick.” Kratos says roughly in response, as if his thighs aren’t shaking in pleasure. 
“Yes, sir,” You shoot back mockingly, working on stretching him open for your cock. He might consider doing this again if you make him feel good. The wet schlick, schlick, schlick of your fingers breaching his hole fills the room, the depraved noise nearly drowning out the crackles of the fireplace. Once you deem him loose enough, you take your fingers away to pour the reminder of the oil onto your erection. 
You brace yourself, placing your hand next to his head, and use your other hand to guide yourself into his asshole. You slowly inch inside him and sigh in satisfaction as his walls clamp down on your cock. He feels so hot and snug, stretched wide by the thickness of you. A mortal would’ve needed more time, more preparation, maybe even mercy, but Kratos can take it. You look at his face and lift a questioning brow. His forehead shines with sweat from your previous teasing, his jaw clenched tightly, and he gives you a short nod. 
You sit up on your knees, withdrawing, and place your hands on his hips. They don’t dwarf him like they would a normal human and, strangely enough, it serves to arouse you further. The first thrust is experimental, firm enough to make him grunt, but gentle enough that his body doesn’t jolt. You keep your eyes on his face, mindful of the way his lips part and his eyebrows knit together. 
“That alright?” You rasp, repeating the action. 
“Harder.” Kratos says— because gods don’t beg, they demand. It doesn’t matter that it sounds more like a plea than an order. You don’t mention it. (You need his blessing, after all.)
You use your grip on his hips to keep him steady, channeling more strength into the thrusts of your hips. You don’t need to be particularly gentle, he won’t break. Kratos groans as the tip of your cock ruts against his prostate, adjusting his legs so his thick thighs bracket your body and his ankles lock behind your back. “Fuck,” You grunt when the change in position makes you reach even deeper. “Stars above, you feel magnificent.” 
His head tips back against the pillows, and he moans, a little louder than before. 
“Oh,” You let out, feeling the way he spasms around your cock. You smile, slow and hungry, and tilt his hips up as you sink down into him. “You’re my favorite, you know? So strong, so powerful. For countless nights I wondered if I would ever be worthy enough to come across you, deserving enough to be blessed by you— never once did it occur to me that it could be like this.” Your rhythm is firm and deep, drawing small groans and moans from his throat. You grasp his cock, which sits hot and heavy in your palm, and stroke it in time with your thrusts. Kratos’ body jolts, his legs tightening around your body, and you swipe your thumb over the head of his cock to collect the pearly droplets to make the glide of your hand easier. “There we go,” You mutter, twisting your wrist with every pump. “Does that feel good?” 
Kratos grits his teeth, trying to bite back his groans, and nods. That’s not enough for you. You click your tongue and give the base of his cock a little squeeze, slowing the pistoning of your hips to tight circles. He scowls at you, which is admittedly both intimidating and arousing. “Tell me.” You say anyway, a teasing grin on your face. 
“...Yes,” Kratos finally speaks, his fingers flexing around the furs, “you feel good. Deep.”
“Mhm?” You hum, slowly working up to your previous tempo. 
He eyes narrow into an irritated glare, “If you don’t—”
A quiet laugh spills from your mouth, and you reach down to grasp the back of his thighs and bend him in half. Kratos curses loudly as you bear down on him with your entire weight, skin slapping wetly as your cock plunges in and out of him. His weeping erection ruts against your belly, and you find your eyes straying to his parted lips. When you glance upwards, you find him staring back at you. He tips his chin up in silent permission, and you waste no time. 
Kratos’ mouth is soft, wet and hot. One of his hands leaves the furs to hold the back of your head, strong enough to crush your skull if he so wished, and his tongue glides over yours. He tastes of mead, with honey and nutty undertones. You wonder what it would be like to take his mouth, to breach his throat and have him swallow your cum. Your fingers dig into his ashen skin with bruising force at the thought, though you highly doubt you’ll leave any lasting marks. 
The god sucks on your tongue, which only feeds the fantasy of his lips around your cock, and you moan heavily into his mouth. Heat coils in your belly, and you shove a hand between your sweaty bodies to stroke him quickly. He pulls away from the kiss, his body tensing as he groans and unravels, cum painting the muscles of his torso as Kratos unravels. You groan and shudder, filling him up to the brim with your own spend. It oozes out from where your bodies meet to form a small puddle on the bedding. You run your fingers through the cum on his chest, both to smear it further and to taste him. His seed is thick on your tongue, almost bittersweet, and you suck your fingers clean. Tiredness leaves your body as the feeling of renewal soaks into you like water pouring over your flesh. 
“Blessed be I,” You chuckle in satisfaction, bending down with the intention of capturing his mouth again, only for him to shove your head away with an unamused stare. Smiling cheekily, you reach for his half hard cock, and he doesn’t stop you. 
You’re sure Atreus won’t mind spending more time with your griffin while his father gives you more blessings.
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takusan-no-ai · 11 months
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Sudden Disappearance
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PAIRING: Kratos/Odin/Heimdall/Thor/Baldur x Female Reader (Romantic) (Separate)
SUMMARY: Their wife, (Y/N), is kidnapped. One day, she returns after victoriously defeating her captor.
Kratos goes into a panic when he can’t find you. He feels so many emotions all at once. He can’t focus on anything now that you’re missing.
A part of him wonders if you left him, but he tries not to focus on it; he knows you and doesn’t want to think negatively of you.
He’ll travel through every realm to find you, asking others of your whereabouts. Any leads towards a missing woman were all met with a dead end.
When you return Kratos embraces you tightly. After hearing about your experience he urges you to train more with him. Just in case this happens again, but your kidnapper happens to be stronger.
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At first Odin thinks you’re just out exploring for some days. Days turn into weeks and when he can’t see you from the eyes of his ravens he begins to panic.
If Baldur is still alive then he’ll send him out to find you. Otherwise Odin will look for you himself, which is fairly quick considering his powers. Heimdall would tell him to reconsider going for you himself, saying it could be a trap to lure him in.
Odin would refute that, saying “She’s my wife. If I don’t go to look for her myself then who will? Baldur’s dead and I need you here in Asgard! Thor is useless in situations like this!”
When you return Odin demands to know what happened to you, and places a punishment worse than death on the culprit. He later creates a raven similar to Huginn and Muninn specifically for keeping an eye on you.
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Heimdall knows you, and so once he suspects you’ve been abducted, he sticks to it. Never faltering to think that you left him. He is furious at the abductor and himself; he should have seen it coming, and yet he didn’t.
Will tell Odin of what has happened and that he wishes to look for you himself, however he is denied so as the Watchmen of the Aesir. Nobody likes him, and by being his wife, you, so he can’t convince anyone to look for you.
Heimdall will sneak out of Asgard and search for you against Odin’s command. He may love Asgard, but he loves you even more.
You’ll meet up halfway with Heimdall if he follows the right tracks to find you, which he likely will. If your captor isn’t already dead, then Heimdall will make sure he is.
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Thor becomes paranoid when you don’t come back by night. He can’t sleep, and his thoughts start to wander. He worries that he might’ve done something wrong, he thinks you left him. He may even relapse into drinking.
Thrúd will comfort and knock some sense into her father, which sets him on the path for finding you. He does still worry that you may be dead, or left him for someone better.
Thor knows he’s hasn’t always been the best husband to you. But, you’re his wife. You’ve been married to this man for years and he’s not about to give up on you over paranoia.
When you return to Asgard Thor will hug you so tight your back may crack. He’s incredibly proud of you for defending yourself, but he will definitely become more protective of you. You’ll probably also start training with Thrúd.
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Baldur is enraged by your kidnapping, but he’s confident that he will find you. Baldur also knows of your fighting capabilities, so he’s not too worried about your predicament.
He will find you. Just as you’re leaving from your kidnapper’s hideout Baldur lands before you with his dragon.
When both of you return home, Baldur makes it clear that nobody tries to harm his wife. He will personally antagonize anyone that even looks at you wrongly afterwards, secretly fearing the worst.
- Fin
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engardeitsme · 4 months
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The Pickpocket - Part 32
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[Prev] [Next] [Masterlist]
Pairing: Heimdall x fem!Reader
Word count: 9k
Summary: We follow a dead man's journey.
Warnings: critical amount of angst you have been warned
A/N: you feel that breeze in the air..? that's the sigh i sighed after i FINALLY finished writing this gd chapter AJSKSK OH I'M JUST SO GLAD IT'S DONE NOW😭😭 i carried this angsty shit around with me for *so long* until my writer's block finally let me breathe again;; that said!! thank you everyone for your immense patience🥺🙏💖💖 i gave it my all to make this chap be worth the long wait<3 hope you enjoy<33
***
Part 32
Pain.
The first thing Heimdall felt as he slowly regained consciousness. Fighting his way out of a pitch-black, bottomless abyss for what felt like centuries - and in the end wishing he hadn't. For as soon as his head began to function again, it was all around him.
Pain.
"Having fun yet?? "
He grimaced and then exhaled with a hiss. The blood rushing in his ears, however, made the sound so hazy that he couldn't tell if he had made one at all or just imagined it. In fact, he was so busy trying not to lose consciousness again that he existed more inside his own head than outside of it at the moment...
"You and me then!"
Yes, there was nothing else, just him and the pain that seemed to be embedded in every fiber of his body. It was pure agony. Chaos...
He wanted to let out an agonized groan, but all that came out of his mouth the next moment was a half-sob as it suddenly seemed like his throat was being ripped apart. The explosion of pain caught him so off-guard that it squeezed the air right out of his lungs. At the same time, he tore his eyes open and blindly groped for his burning neck - or at least wanted to.
Because then he realized that his left arm was practically immobilized, tied somewhere behind his back, and his right one-
His heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened. He opened his mouth in a silent scream.
There was none. No right arm. Just a blood-encrusted stump sticking uselessly out of the side of his chest.
Heimdall's breathing accelerated. He only vaguely realized that the ugly stump was also contributing significantly to the cacophony of pain in his body before he began to hyperventilate and his vision blurred. The few thoughts, questions, that the dense fog in his head allowed him to have seemed to fade into nothingness, unanswered.
What happened...? He wrinkled his sweaty forehead and thought hard, but all he could come up with were incoherent fragments. Bright colors, the sound of explosions ringing in his ears, screams that faded into nothingness... An ever-growing frustration, boundless rage, but also... fear. Naked and raw.
What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he fucking remember?!
What happened??
He winced as he took too deep a breath the next moment to push back the panic welling up inside of him.
This pain... Why was he in so much *pain*? It was as if his body had simply stopped healing after closing the wound that now replaced his right arm. It didn't even seem to have compensated for the loss of blood, judging by his unusually weak and tired limbs - at least the ones that still remained.
Heimdall forced himself to blink the tears from his eyes and then licked his trembling lips. The metallic taste that spread through his mouth made him grimace, but it also cut through the disorienting fog in his head and allowed him to see more clearly again, something he immediately took advantage of by turning his head and taking a closer look at his restraints.
It seemed to be a tangle of roots sprouting up behind him from the cold and damp cave floor he was kneeling on. It had wrapped around his wrist like a thick rope. He twisted his torso a little, clenched his hand into a fist, pulled and tugged, but soon gave up again. There was no doubt that he was dealing with magic here, and quite powerful magic at that, otherwise this puny green stuff would stand no chance against his godly power, however weakened it might be.
He slid backwards on his knees, toward the root, so he could touch his neck with his hand - something he immediately regretted, however, as soon as he touched the sore skin. He clenched his golden teeth until his jaw cracked. It felt as if another root had wrapped itself around his neck, so tight it cut into his flesh.
Yes, his neck and right arm were definitely the main culprits for his miserable condition, but really, his body hurt all over; he had certainly suffered some internal bleeding, maybe even broken bones. In addition, his body was riddled with cuts, both large and small. They had torn his otherwise immaculate tunic and stained it with blood. Small red flowers on a snow-white background-
"You... actually hit me!"
He slowly lowered his hand as those words came to mind. Words he had spoken himself, but couldn't make sense of because he neither remembered their context nor to whom he had addressed them. All they did was make his heart beat faster and his palms sweat. And make frustration spread through him again, but this time he couldn't tell if it was an emotion he had already experienced, a reaction to his inability to remember, or simply related to the fact that someone had actually managed to overpower him...
"Luck! That's all this is!"
Had to be. He was untouchable, after all. Someone, some foul creature, vile and dishonorable, had gotten lucky and managed to trick him, possibly through some rotten spell, and then trap him here.
Despite the anger that rose within him, Heimdall had to admit that it was almost commendable - almost. After all, his captors had made one crucial mistake.
His mouth twisted into a violent smile before he called upon his Bifröst magic. As his mind searched for the familiar light that connected him to his homeland, he wondered if he should make short work of his captors or subject them to one of his favorite torture methods. His fingers itched at the thought of the latter, but he also had a job to do. And as numerically superior as the Einherjar were to these savage rebels, he was still their commander and should therefore-
Several things happened at once.
Just as he felt his mind making contact with his magic, a flood of memories came crashing down on him, completely disorienting him for a moment...
+++
...Heimdall saw himself surrounded by the ugly, unruly undergrowth of Vanaheim, and this disgusting, humid heat that soon made the loose strands of his hair stick to his face. There was no realm that disgusted him more; and its rebels were just the crowning stroke.
He let out an annoyed growl as he swatted another pesky insect out of his face for what felt like the hundredth time in the last five minutes. He couldn't wait to get rid of this pack of rebels so he could leave this filthy place behind once and for all.
If the plan were to succeed, with the impaled head of the so-called "Godkiller" as the ultimate triumph.
The thought made him grin, while Gulltoppr snorted loudly beneath him. He could understand her impatience. You'd think that Frigg would try a little harder to help her dear brother... Instead, Heimdall had waited here for half an eternity already, playing flyswatter while watching Vanaheim's sky turn from day to night and back again.
The fact that the moon had reappeared in Vanaheim's firmament would certainly not please the All-Father... But it had served its purpose, hadn't it? It had given them the distraction they needed to capture Frigg's brother, and it had also brought the Foreign God into the picture. Who else would have put the moon back in the sky while Frigg and her little band of rebels were trying to make their way to the prisoners? They were stretched thin. So it was only logical that they had asked their allies for help.
Not that that would do them much good in the end. Oh no, Heimdall would see to that.
His fingers twitched at the thought of finally being allowed to prove himself. He had waited far too long for this moment, longed for it, especially after...
His gaze darkened and he clenched his teeth. Yes, it was high time to make this beast pay for his shameful deeds once and for all.
And he would not fail, not again.
Not this time...
+++
...A violent shiver passed through his body as he came back to the here and now. Just in time to hear footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Heimdall quickly pushed aside his irritation and confusion (which caused him even more irritation), preferring to concentrate on getting his magic ready before-
"Oh good. You're awake."
The voice didn't sound remotely happy about this, but Heimdall paid no attention to it. No, instead he stared open-mouthed at the small, purple glowing particles that danced through the air around him… only to then vanish into thin air again.
"You can save yourself the trouble, Watchdog."
He continued to ignore the newcomer and once again gathered all his remaining strength to materialize the Bifröst - but again in vain. It was as if it always slipped through his fingers at the very last moment, as if there was an invisible but impenetrable barrier between him and the magic that was normally a part of him, as natural as breathing...
For a moment, shock was all he felt.
"What did that witch do to me…"
"You are mistaken, Aesir. This is no magic, only nature. You see, there is a certain type of plant in Vanaheim that contains a powerful toxin. Even the slightest contact with skin causes paralysis - both physically and mentally. And of course, this effect is multiplied a hundredfold when the poison comes into contact with, say, an open wound. Now, make that exposure continuous..." He paused for dramatic effect. "And it could even rob a god of his powers."
Heimdall knew that his mind was probably just playing tricks on him, but suddenly he thought he felt a slight throbbing and pulling where the plant drew its blood…
Both physically...
A bead of sweat dripped from his chin as he turned his head forward again and looked at his counterpart for the first time. The man - wearing the typical Vanir earth tones as well as golden markings on his dark skin - looked vaguely familiar, but he didn't much dwell on this. After all, in the end he was just another thorn in Asgard's side, in the All-Father's. Rebel scum. Something to be crushed under their boots and nothing more.
And yet the Vanir now had the audacity to return his gaze, as if they were equals. No, as if he were Heimdall's superior, even.
It made white-hot rage course through his veins, before he immediately zeroed in on the other's mental barriers, determined to completely eviscerate his mind, tear it to absolute shreds even, until his own depraved character would doom him to-
...and mentally.
Heimdall felt his mouth go dry as he reached into the void once more. As if the other's mind eluded him at the last moment, he just couldn't get hold of it. As if there was a barrier in front of him as well, same as the Bifröst, same as-
"But when I tried to find out her true intentions... she just walled herself off again. "
No.
He ignored the stinging in his chest and quickly blinked away the remembered déjà vu. No, this was something else, this had nothing to do with you, this was... poison.
The only thing that weed didn't seem to have taken away from him were his heightened senses, and even those seemed to leave a lot to be desired, considering how late he had become aware of his approaching captor. But even if they weren't compromised, he'd have a hard time listening his way out of here…
For the first time, Heimdall realized the full extent of his situation, and yet a not insignificant part of him still refused to acknowledge this reality. After all, he was invulnerable, invincible...! An Aesir prince, the God of Foresight, Knowledge, Order. It was simply not possible that he of all people could find himself in such a hopeless situation-
"Oh, but it very much is, prince." His captor had emphasized the last word as if it tasted like dirt. "And I bet it does wonders for your exorbitant ego to know that it took no special magic or supernatural power to subdue you, no. Just a simple toxin, like the ones used to hunt wild animals - though in smaller doses, of course."
Heimdall hadn't even realized that he had spoken his thoughts aloud. Again he felt a tremor take hold of him, and this time he didn't just imagine that his arm went numb for a moment. His heart stumbled briefly in his chest before continuing to beat at double speed.
"Though I must admit", the other added, calmly returning his hateful gaze, "That your capture would have been much more difficult if Kratos hadn't neutralized you first."
His words hit Heimdall like a punch in the gut - a feeling he thought he knew all too well by now, much better than he would have liked - before another wave of memories washed him away...
+++
...As soon as he had seen the flare light up the night sky of Vanaheim, pure excitement bordering on giddiness had taken hold of him, and he had immediately chased Gulltoppr into the dense undergrowth. Neither the fern fronds whipping in his face, nor the twigs tugging at his hair had bothered him; there had been only one thing on his mind:
Revenge.
And that was also what had ultimately made him dash out of the thicket into the makeshift arena without hesitation, hitting his target with full force.
Or rather targets, but the traitor's head wasn't even worth mentioning, and Frigg had been a non-factor from the start; Heimdall had just been waiting for her to take off again in the direction of her brother, and of course he hadn't been disappointed. Their predictability was laughable, really.
Of course, the battle sounds that echoed from the ruins where they held the Vanir god prisoner did not bode well, but Heimdall had quickly decided that he could deal with that later.
After all, this here wouldn't take all night.
And so he had given the "Godkiller" his full, undivided attention at last.
Outwardly, he wasn't much different from Heimdall's previous image of him: A stupid, ugly brute who couldn't even form complete sentences. It was ridiculous, even insulting, that this clown wanted to take on Asgard. It was like a chicken pecking around in the dirt trying to take on a mighty dragon. The sheer audacity made Heimdall's blood boil even more, but he reminded himself to show restraint.
For he really wanted to savor this fight. Wanted to see the man really and truly suffer for what he had done to him - and for all that he represented beyond that.
"Now. Watcha got?"
So instead of fighting him directly from the get-go, he let Gulltoppr go first. After the long wait, she deserved to play with her prey after all. A decision that Heimdall quickly came to regret, however, for the barbarian soon rammed his ugly blades into her throat without hesitation.
If that wouldn't already have caused his anger to finally get the better of him, his next discovery surely would have. Because when his opponent had turned his backside to him during this cold-blooded murder, he saw it:
Gjallarhorn.
His horn. His possession. His destiny.
Dangled from this butcher's belt like a trophy. As if it were truly his. As if he had earned it, fair and square. Not stolen it underhandedly. Not just made it his by some perfidious trick of turning you against him.
Heimdall bared his teeth at the painful memory.
In one short moment, this man had taken two of the most important things in his life, and now Gulltoppr as well. And if he didn't stop him, Heimdall knew now with unmistakable certainty that he would also come for the rest: His home. And with it his whole life.
And he would never see you again.
As soon as these last thoughts flashed through Heimdall's mind, he saw nothing but red. Threw all restraint aside and charged at his opponent, ruthless, with only one intention: To kill. Regardless of the consequences, he attacked, again and again and again, not sure where he was hitting, but he was hitting something, and that was enough for him. But this approach also made him more careless, and although he fought like hell-
Suddenly he had a fist in his face.
The blow caught him completely off guard and sent him stumbling back a few steps. The shock made him take a moment to realize the pain that shot through the left side of his face. Slowly, he raised a hand and touched his cheek with his fingers. When he lowered it, it glistened wet in the moonlight; the blow had broken his skin.
For a moment, he just stared at the red, speechless. It seemed so unreal, so absurd that this should be his own blood - but a glance in the direction of the (decidedly not bleeding) man in front of him quickly brought him back to reality.
"You... You actually hit me!", he finally blurted out in disbelief.
In response, his opponent only tightened his grip on the spear aimed at him.
It was a wake-up call.
He had only received a small scratch, nothing more than a lucky hit, really. And Heimdall was still convinced that he would win this fight, of course he would; he was Heimdall Odinson after all. Nothing and no one could stop him, let alone defeat him.
And yet... Still, for a brief moment, a spark of doubt had flared within him as he had looked down at the blood on his fingers for the first time. And as much as he fought it, as much as he told himself that it was nothing... He still couldn't stop it from rattling him. For as brief as that moment had been, he had never had to doubt his abilities before.
This was a first, in many ways.
A first that really had no place here, considering what was at stake - who was at stake. And how much he still had to lose.
It was the mere existence of that last thought that cut through the fog of revenge in his mind and made him see more clearly again.
No, he couldn't let himself get rattled now. He couldn't let his opponent think he had a chance against him just because he had hit him once. This was his fight to win, his. No matter what.
And he would make that clear to the damn bastard, one way or another.
"Slow it down!"
Without further ado, Heimdall slowed time with his Realm Shift as his opponent began to charge at him again. But instead of attacking as he had before, he used the seconds he had gained to distance himself again.
Because by now, it was clear that he could no longer just rush blindly into battle. No, a different approach was needed here.
A plan was needed.
A ridiculous notion, really. That he, of all people, would have to come up with something to defeat a single enemy. But as much as he disliked it, he knew it was the right conclusion. Especially if he wanted to avoid the other getting... lucky again.
He tensed his jaw as the thoughts swirled in his head.
It was true that Heimdall had practiced his magic and swordplay for centuries. But it was also a fact that he had spent most of that time standing on a training ground in Gladsheim or putting down poorly coordinated rebellions. Child's play compared to a real fight, a fight like this. Where every move, no matter how small, had to be perfect.
Something that shouldn't really cause him any problems, after all, he could always fully rely on his foresight. Which compensated for any possible shortcomings, which guaranteed that he always had the upper hand, which made him simply unstoppable-
Unless he was fighting someone who seemed strangely immune to it.
Heimdall had initially dismissed it as a figment of his imagination. A side effect of his unbridled rage. Had tried to simply ignore the fact that his opponent had seemingly gotten increasingly precise, increasingly faster, while his own foresight had started to slightly lag behind... Until the pain in his face had made it impossible to ignore it any longer.
He would have loved nothing more than to simply put all blame on that damn spear...
"It's no ordinary weapon, though. It's specifically made to counter your abilities. "
As expected, the Draupnir Ring had given the spear the ability to multiply. But that was not all, and Heimdall couldn't help but feel a little annoyed because he hadn't expected it and had thus already lost his advantage of knowing about the weapon.
For what made the whole thing so precarious was that the copied spearheads could be detonated with a mere flick of the wrist. It wasn't a particularly large explosion, but it was enough to overwhelm Heimdall's senses, leaving him momentarily stunned when he was within their radius. Which, unfortunately, happened all too often, because as good as his reflexes were, he had no way of knowing exactly when the spears would detonate.
The logical conclusion had been to steer clear of them, but soon their sheer numbers had made that impossible - at least coupled with everything else going on. Simultaneously watching his footwork and surroundings, avoiding his enemy and concentrating on his own advances overwhelmed even him, however superior his senses and reflexes might be.
Yes, it really seemed as if the spear was made just for him...
But Heimdall knew that was only half the truth; a weapon was only as dangerous as its wielder, after all, even if that was a bitter pill to swallow.
For the spear gave him an advantage, yes, but so did his lifelong experience in battle. For the first time, it made sense to Heimdall that this man had killed Baldur. Though he couldn't hold a candle to him of course, he was still a born warrior. A powerhouse of raw strength, keen intuition and incredible speed. A true Godkiller, fighting on pure instinct alone, almost impossible to predict. Chaos.
Like father, like son.
Heimdall gritted his teeth even harder. Dodging the spears was still his first priority. If he was hit by one of their blasts, he would be completely vulnerable. But he couldn't dodge forever, otherwise he would run the risk of exhausting himself and giving his opponent even more chances to get lucky. It was imperative that he overpower him as quickly as possible.
Heimdall drew Hofud from his scabbard. It glowed purple-blue for a moment as he channeled his magic through it, while his gaze remained fixed on the man before him.
A series of quick attacks, in and out, when his opponent would least expect it. To catch him off guard, make him feel his clear inferiority again. Demoralize, destabilize, overpower. Heimdall would simply turn the tables.
And then ram his fancy spear through his skull.
He licked his dry lips and promptly tasted blood – never had he liked the metallic taste more. It coursed through his body like fire, stirring his blood, heightening his senses, and finally burning everything in him except his raw desire to win, win, win.
This was it.
He saw the Realm Shift fade away and tensed all his muscles...
There was just one thing that mattered now.
"Only one of us is going to walk away from this. And it sure as shit will not be you!", he shouted before their fight went into the next round...
+++
"...could have ended your miserable existence for all I care. Not only because of all the suffering you and your kind have brought upon this world, but also because I could spare myself this pitiful sight now."
Not wanting to draw his captor's attention to his momentary lapse, Heimdall quickly lowered his head before trying to catch his breath, which the images and emotions he had just experienced had robbed him of in one fell swoop.
Then he blinked in rapid succession as he slowly realized their significance.
He had fought the Godkiller, that much was certain now... And judging by what the rebel was saying, they had both come out of the fight alive. Which was sobering, to say the least, considering his current situation.
Heimdall clenched his fist as another tremor took hold of him. This time, however, it had nothing to do with the poison coursing through his veins, but only with the shame that overcame him. For whether he had been overpowered through a devious trick, a foul spell, or sheer luck, it still didn't change his current situation.
His failure.
He had to agree with the rebel on one point; it would indeed have been better if he had died. At least there was glory in death. In dying in battle against the enemies of Asgard, in the service of his beloved homeland.
However, there was not a trace of glory in being a prisoner of war. Sitting in a damp, dark cave, chained up like a mangy dog. With his humiliating memories and the certainty that he had been robbed of all his abilities, as his company. As if his defeat in the battle against the Foreign God had not been embarrassment and humiliation enough.
In the end, a loss was a loss, no matter how you looked at it.
"...but unfortunately this decision was not mine to make."
Heimdall let out a harsh, humorless laugh, the echo of which sounded as hollow as he felt. "You can save yourself the shocking revelation, Vanir. I am well aquainted with Frigg's handiwork, believe me. Too long I had to put up with her softhearted foolishness after all, after she abandoned her realm and tried to play All-Mother instead."
Despite his gloomy thoughts, Heimdall felt no small amount of satisfaction when he saw his opponent's expression darken in response.
Unfortunately, the man managed to keep his composure in the end. "You're wrong again, Watchman. Lady Freya had nothing whatsoever to do with this decision. Oh no, if it had been up to her, you would still be lying somewhere in Vanaheim's woods, with a broken neck, soon to serve as food for the native wildlife, just as your wretched kind deserves."
Suddenly he felt a painful stinging in his throat… A warning. Though he still couldn't help but gasp a little when the rebel's words took him back to the past once more...
+++
...Heimdall dodged nimbly as spears began to rain down again. They pierced the ground where he had just been standing, whirling up dust.
He exhaled as soon as he felt solid ground beneath his feet and brushed a few loose strands of hair from his forehead. The dust cloud had moved in front of the moon, briefly bathing the arena in hazy light. Nothing to obstruct his own vision. However...
"I see you're at the age where your eyesight starts to fail you!", he taunted as an idea began to form in his mind, "But don't worry; this won't be much of a bother once you're dead."
The brute continued to keep a straight face (Heimdall had started to wonder if he understood him at all), but then he heard the voice of the traitor retort: "Still got quite a big mouth for someone who's bleedin' from a single hit!"
Heimdall usually never missed an opportunity to put the old goat in his place, but in this case he had to concede.
Courtesy of the axe that suddenly flew towards his head, closely followed by its beefy wielder. But as soon as he was close enough, Heimdall rammed Hofud into the ground, sending a wave of Bifröst through it that threw his opponent back-
Before he had to quickly duck once more as the recalled axe flew past his head again.
"Nice try!", he laughed in response, "But still a liiittle off the mark, old man!"
"What now, brother?"
"The spear remains our best chance."
Heimdall had to snort loudly at this idiotic exchange. "Yes, yes! Why not continue to bet on that old walking stick of yours. Who knows, maybe next time will do the trick!"
As soon as he finished speaking, another spear copy flew at him, but he dodged it again with an elegant sidestep, before letting out a theatrical sigh.
"Oh well, bummer! Though I'm sure if you just keep trying then- Argh!"
The explosion in his back was bigger than he had expected, but that just made it all the easier to carry out his plan.
Of course, he had realized that the spear should not hit him directly, but was meant to explode the wall behind him. It was absurdly simple-minded to think that he would not immediately see through this dirty trick. And yet he was now appealing to that very simple-mindedness as he stumbled and held his head with a groan.
Naturally this explosion had not just passed him by either, and for a moment his senses were still overwhelmed by the violent sensation; but in this case he had been prepared for it, and that gave him enough presence of mind to sneakily use his Realm Shift in the next moment.
An action he repeated when his opponent (quite predictably) unleashed another volley of spears from the sky. Fortunately, the murky cloud of dust from the first explosion that was still swirling around him allowed Heimdall to avoid pretending to be hit by these new spears as well. Instead, he slowed time again and soon achieved the desired effect.
His opponent, on the other hand, was of course none the wiser and charged forward in the full belief that Heimdall was momentarily incapacitated...
Only to suddenly find himself in a huge cloud of dust that, thanks to the Realm Shift, now hung over this part of the arena like a thick blanket of fog, obscuring the view of anything more than an arm's length away - unless, of course, you had Heimdall's eyes.
So when the traitorous head, now as blind as his master, let out a loud coughing warning, Heimdall didn't hesitate and rammed his sword into the unprotected part of the man's shoulder.
But before he could even get to the point of running his magic through the blade and tearing his body apart, the mountain of muscles let out a loud, angry roar and whirled around. Once again, he was faster than Heimdall had expected; he just managed to withdraw his sword and dodge back into the protection of the dust cloud before he could make contact with his fist again.
But he quickly regained his composure and went on the attack once more. After all, he couldn't give him a moment's rest, no chance to get his bearings. Relentless. In and out. Wear him down, frustrate him, make him lose his head and then...
Use Hofud to make sure it stayed that way.
And for a while it looked as if he would succeed with this strategy. At least until he noticed another change in his opponent and his intention seemed to elude him once again. He had also closed his eyes in the meantime, which was simply hilarious; after all, it was absolute madness to think that he could use his perfectly ordinary sense of hearing to-
But just as Heimdall was about to launch another attack, the old god suddenly turned 180 degrees, forcing him to retreat far enough to break out of the cloud.
Unless he wanted to be struck by one of those annoying chainblades that his adversary swung around wildly all of a sudden, swirling up the cloud of dust that Heimdall could no longer maintain from this distance.
"That did it, brother!"
Heimdall gritted his teeth and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Damned butter knives.
But he had barely finished this thought when his opponent switched to the spear again. So he quickly swallowed his disappointment and reminded himself to concentrate before he dodged another copy; it exploded somewhere behind him as he rushed closer. After all, the other could hardly make the weapon explode when Heimdall was standing right in front of him, unless he wanted to blow himself up, too.
Shortly after, their weapons clashed against each other with a loud "Clang!". Purple struck hazel, and Heimdall poured as much hate into his gaze as he could, until he suddenly saw a bright light from the corner of his eye...
Coming from the tip of the spear...
Which his opponent still held in his hands...
Don't tell me he…!
With a violent jerk Heimdall retreated and jumped backwards, but this proved to be a mistake as the other immediately followed him.
At the last moment, he was able to protect himself from the incoming blow by covering himself with his Bifröst magic. Though the force that was unleashed still tore the ground from under his feet and catapulted him almost to the other side of the arena.
Once he had regained his footing, his heart was pounding in his throat and he couldn't help but curse himself. Of course, the spear had been a trick, he should have known. But for a moment, he had been unable to think of anything but his unbridled hatred again and had blocked out everything else.
Showing weakness once more.
Focus, damn it!
"Ah, there we are... Armor fit for a god", he shouted loudly as a distraction.
To emphasize his words, he flexed his hand, which seemed to be momentarily enveloped in purple fire. This spectral Bifröst armor had a lot to offer; not only did it act as a shield, making him even more invulnerable, but it also allowed him to hit even harder. Though it also had a downside: He had to use it sparingly, because summoning it took more power in one fell swoop than all of his previous magic uses combined.
But that shouldn't be a problem, after all, he wouldn't have to summon it again. No, this was a definite one and done.
To demonstrate his newfound power, he threw another, much more intense Bifröst attack at his opponent the next moment. He dodged it, but Heimdall had anticipated as much and had rushed after the energy projectile as soon as it had left his hand. This surprise effect almost allowed him to score a direct hit, but once again the other just managed to dodge and then widen the gap again. Meanwhile, he continued to fire his stupid spears at Heimdall, missing embarrassingly wide each time.
A chain of events that repeated itself several more times whenever Heimdall came too close to the older god. It soon made him let out a wild laugh.
"What's the matter, chickenshit?!", he shouted mockingly as he watched him run away again, "Scared I will embed my sword into your empty skull?"
"C'mon, brother, you hit him once - just gotta find the right opening!"
Heimdall grinned cruelly. "Patience, traitor. You will get yours, don't worry! As soon as I'm done with this old geezer anyway."
Once again, he gathered energy in his hand and then threw it at his opponent with full force. This time, however, he didn't leave it at a single throw; though it was immensely satisfying to see him scramble away from Heimdall's strength and power and clear superiority... He started to tire of this cat-and-mouse game.
It was time to deliver the finishing blow.
So in the next moment, he began to literally pummel him with his magic, lighting up the arena in a display of color. It would take only two hits to unleash the Bifröst's full destructive power. His success was basically only a matter of time. His opponent might have been fast, but in the end, even he was no match for his magic's concentrated power.
And so it came, as it had to come, and soon there was a loud bang before the oh so revered "Godkiller" roared in pain once more and went down.
No Skald would be able to come up with a more beautiful melody.
Heimdall allowed himself a confident smile and then walked over to the kneeling man. He had apparently relied on his shield at the last moment to protect himself from the barrage of magical attacks; it still glowed with the residual magic the Bifröst had left behind.
He couldn't help but snort at the sight of it barely hiding his massive body. As if this scratched piece of scrap metal would ever stand a chance against him. Ha! Hilarious.
But then, when he was only a few steps away, he was suddenly overcome by a strange feeling. As if something wasn't quite right...
Heimdall was inclined to ignore it at first, for what could possibly be wrong here? The Foreign God had fallen to his knees before him, just as it should be. Just as it was right. The only thing wrong here was the fact that this fight had lasted much longer than he had initially planned. He could have been on his way home long ago if his opponent hadn't been so reluctant to face the inevitable. Tenacious bastard. And for what? In the end, a loss was a loss, no matter how you looked at it.
Provided… it really was a loss.
Heimdall did not realize what his instincts had been telling him until he was standing right in front of his defeated opponent - and by then it was too late.
He did see coming what happened next.
The older god suddenly stood up with a jerk and swung his shield in his direction. A movement that made Heimdall quickly take a few steps back again, even though he found it more amusing than anything else at that moment. After all, it was nothing more than the last gasp of a cornered animal. Adorable, really.
He had already opened his mouth to make another mocking remark, but then something happened that he had not seen coming:
Suddenly, the shield's glow intensified, as if it were magical itself, or at the very least charged with-
Heimdall couldn't even finish the thought before the glow suddenly changed from the previous Bifröst colors to a bright red, and then he could only widen his eyes before the reflection of his own magic hit him right in the gut and tore the ground from under his feet.
He was thrown backwards and hit the ground hard. Still wrapped in his Bifröst armor, he didn't take any significant damage, but for a moment he was still too stunned to react in any way other than gasping for the air the impact had forced from his lungs.
After that, however, he quickly regained his senses and hurried to his feet, mentally preparing himself for the spears to rain down again-
But nothing happened.
His opponent hadn't even rushed after him, but was still on the other side of the arena, simply staring at him, unmoving.
It should have made him pause. For obviously this maneuver had not been a last, desperate, all-or-nothing attack, judging by the fact that his enemy was now standing upright again, and remarkably unharmed at that.
But instead, he let his anger take over again. Anger that he had been so close to ending this fight. Anger that this laughingstock had managed to surprise him again, and with his own maneuver no less. And that he simply refused to die as he was destined to: By Heimdall's hand, after he had sat in the dirt and begged for mercy for all he had done to him.
"Bravo!", he shouted at the top of his lungs the next moment, not caring at all how shrill his voice sounded, "You have delayed the inevitable once again, what a masterstroke! Surely this time it will finally turn the tide in your favor and not just guarantee a few more minutes of utter humiliation!"
Heimdall then watched as the other stepped back from his offensive position and calmly placed the spear on the ground in front of him. His face showed no movement either, though his gaze was still filled with grim determination.
What a joke.
However, he didn't laugh until the traitor head piped up again: "Now, brother!"
"Now? Now what?", Heimdall repeated mockingly, "Face the facts, you dumb goat, this fight was already decided before it even began! You are simply no match for me, no one is! And it is simply idiotic to think-"
But that was as far as he got, for the next moment his opponent suddenly raised his spear and sent it hurtling back to the ground.
And then the world exploded.
Or rather, the circle of spearheads in which Heimdall found himself all of a sudden.
He had no chance to react in any special way. Especially not when the explosions suddenly caused the ground beneath him to collapse, throwing him off balance even more. All he could do was throw his arms in front of his face before the chaos descended upon him.
In an instant, it felt as if his eardrums burst and his eyes melted out of his skull.
The Bifröst armor might have prevented him from taking critical damage, but it also didn't take long for the very same to shatter under the force of the explosions. Thus he found himself absolutely defenseless against the end portion of the violent bursts, feeling it scorch his skin and the flying debris pierce his flesh. It was painful, of course, but the shock and especially the sudden overload of his senses made it almost irrelevant at first. 
He couldn't even tell where up and down was anymore, his body seemed to exist everywhere, scattered through space and time...
And then he was violently reassembled as he suddenly perceived movement through the veil of chaos right in front of him. He had not yet regained enough control of his body to dodge, but it was enough to throw up his hands and grab the handle of the descending spear before it could connect.
He still saw colored lights dancing in front of his eyes, interrupted only by the murderous visage of his opponent as they engaged in a brief wrestling match. Then, all of a sudden, he was whirled around and, before he knew it, slammed into the stone wall of the arena.
Once again he felt completely breathless, but in the next moment this was only secondary.
Everything was secondary to the pain that suddenly erupted somewhere around his right arm, but soon penetrated every fiber of his being. And then he found enough air in his lungs after all, to open his mouth and let out a shrill scream. His body, meanwhile, was writhing and twisting out of his control before he lunged for the spearhead that was lodged in his upper right arm, pinning it to the wall behind him, but to no avail; all he achieved was that his opponent drilled the weapon even deeper, shredding even more of his body while doing so.
He wasn't even really aware of how he was giving up, it just happened. Limbs twitching and head hanging, hot tears welling up in his eyes. He just concentrated on keeping the movements of his body to a minimum, even keeping his breathing as shallow as possible so as not to strain his right arm. His adversary, meanwhile, stood directly in front of him, leaving himself wide open, but Heimdall couldn't even muster the strength to raise his head, let alone think about attacking.
There was only pain, everywhere, as his last shred of consciousness prepared for the final blow...
+++
...When Heimdall found his way back to reality this time, he felt like vomiting. His heart was racing and he had trouble breathing, as if something was squeezing his lungs.
Or like he was still hanging from a wall.
The thought immediately made him taste bile, and he had to quickly squeeze his eyes shut to force the feeling back down and regain control of his body - or what was left of it, at least.
"...Although I must say that seeing the infamous God of Foresight reduced to this also has quite the appeal."
Heimdall felt the sweat dripping from his face as he licked his trembling lips and then let out a hoarse laugh. "You lot... act like you're the big winners here... even though you've barely managed to go up against one of our undermanned outposts! But it is rather obvious that you aren't exactly the sharpest tools in the shed... After all, you idiots still don't realize what a huge mistake you've made."
The Vanir raised an unimpressed eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Did we now."
Heimdall opened his eyes again, which immediately bore into those of his counterpart, and then twisted his mouth into a wide, golden grin.
"You let me live. And that is the stupidest thing you could have done. Because I will make sure you fail, mark my words. I will hunt you down and make you pay, one by one, you and everyone and everything you hold dear. I will crush your little organization and leave this shithole you call home in ruins and ashes, so that your blood will not even serve as fertilizer for your beloved weeds."
Yes, there was still hope. After all, he wasn't just anybody, he was Heimdall, Scion of the Aesir, Son of the All-Father. And it would take a lot more to take him out of commission than to take one of his arms and tie him to a root inside a cave!
"And once Ragnarök is over and Asgard has inevitably emerged victorious", he continued, emboldened, "Then I will personally see to it that each and every member of your little militia group, starting with your oh-so-beloved queen, will be all but forgotten. No one will remember your deeds, your faces, your names. I will completely erase you, down to the last seedling, this I swear to you, rebel scum!"
He felt feverish again as he finished, but this time he welcomed the fire in his veins. After all, it would serve him well if he carried out his threats and set this realm on fire.
His counterpart looked at him blankly for a moment before saying dryly: "I see you people still have a penchant for talking big, no matter how hopeless the situation. An admirable trait... if it belonged to someone else."
With that, he turned around and walked back towards the cave entrance.
Heimdall could only laugh after him. "The truth is rarely pretty, Vanir! Especially when you're on the losing side."
That made the man pause and turn back to him, his eyes flashing. "I suppose you speak from much experience, Aesir. Or what would you call losing first your prisoners, then a realm, and then the entire war? Not to mention your more... personal losses of late, and the pathetic fact that you've only been able to keep your head because Kratos took pity on you."
For a short while, all one could hear in the cold, damp cave was the constant "Drip!", "Drip!", "Drip!" of water droplets on the stone - until it was suddenly interrupted by a soft whisper, the echo of a single word:
Pity.
Barely perceptible at first, but even then it already bored into Heimdall's eardrums, demanding his full attention and causing his grin to slip.
Pity.
And then, all of a sudden, it seemed to him as if it was in reverse, getting louder and louder, until it was echoing off the stone walls so deafeningly that he thought he could even feel the sound on his tongue-
Pity. Pity. Pity...
"...but then again, delusion has never been a foreign word to your people either. A fact that your visitor can surely tell you a thing or two about as well. Who knows, perhaps he will get through to you. You are of the same blood, after all, hard as that may be to believe."
His words sounded muffled in Heimdall's ears and seemed to follow the man toward the exit, then receded further and further before a second voice cut through the echo in his mind:
"Oh no no no no no... You are going to spare me... "
+++
"...out of pity?!"
Pity. He pitied him. Him, who was simply superior to this brute in every conceivable way! The anger he felt in response was so intense that it made his body tremble and even push his pain into the background while his eyes continued to shoot lightning bolts at the man opposite him. He imagined them impaling him, tearing him apart for the audacity, the nerve, the utter insult to dare to look down on him like that. To think him beneath him, in need of his mercy. As if he would not be able to wipe this joke of a god from the face of the earth!
"Let it go and you may live."
Heimdall couldn't help but let out a short, harsh laugh at the absurdity of it all. "No... No, I don't think so. That is not how this works..."
"Oh, fer cryin' out loud-", the traitor head groaned, "Aren't you old enough by now to think for yourself? Just give it up! There's no shame in valuing your life!"
But Heimdall's attention was still focused on the Godkiller. "…Not until I've made you pay for everything you've taken from me!"
"...Wait, so this is about the bloody horn?? Oh, I knew that Odin did quite a number on you, but this...? Lad, believe me, you do not want your death to be about-"
"Quiet, traitor!", Heimdall barked, "You don't know anything about what I want or don't want!"
Meanwhile, his adversary simply continued to stare at him, almost motionless, only his eyes darted back and forth, scrutinizing the movements on his face. For some reason, this made Heimdall even angrier.
But before he could open his mouth again, the other beat him to it:
"This isn't about the horn."
"Come again...?", the head asked, but no one paid him any mind.
Instead, Heimdall now narrowed his eyes and snarled: "I know it was you, butcher. You made her do it. She was happy- We were happy. She would never have left me like-" He trailed off and took a deep, shuddering breath to block out the memories. "You made her betray me."
For a short while after he had finished, they just fought a silent eye duel, until:
"I didn't."
"LIAR!", Heimdall shouted immediately, "This is all your fault! I don't know what you did to her, whether you forced her into it or whether that Vanir witch was behind it, but I swear." He bared his teeth. "If I find out that you harmed even a single hair on her head, I will-"
Suddenly, his opponent leapt forward and pressed his forearm against his throat. His eyes resembled molten lava as they bored into Heimdall's purple ones, which stared back with no less hatred.
"Brother, stop, this isn't the way!"
"I would never", the older god spat in his face, "cause her any harm. She is my daughter."
Despite the massive bracer cutting into his flesh, Heimdall held his ground as he hissed: "But she belongs at my side, where she is happiest."
For a brief moment, he allowed the memories to take over. Immediately they flooded him with a wave of pure joy. Made him see you before him, in all your beauty, in all your divine light. Made him feel you, your warmth, your shared love, in him, beside him, all around him.
And it only made him jut his chin forward even more defiantly as his counterpart growled:
"I will never let you have her."
With that he let go of Heimdall and turned his back to him. The very same only acknowledged this with a smug grin. The old man could object as much as he wanted. For he could already read in his eyes that he knew very well that Heimdall was telling the truth.
You were already his. You already belonged to him. And nothing and no one would ever be able to change that, not even the Godkiller.
Least of all the Godkiller.
"You think you can stop me?", he laughed mockingly, "Then think again. You see, I will bring her back to Asgard, no matter what. Even if I have to kill anyone who gets in my way. Be it you, the witch, or your worthless little runt-"
+++
...Just as the worst pain he had ever felt in his life set in, the memory spat Heimdall out again.
He gasped and collapsed into himself, mouth opened in a silent scream. His body shook from the aftershocks of his journey into the past. As the cave suddenly began to spin around him, he quickly squeezed his eyes shut and bit down on his lower lip. Then he just sat there for a while, tasting blood, listening to the rapid beating of his heart, wishing away the remembered pain that still shot in waves through the stump of his right arm.
That was until he heard soft footsteps.
At first, he didn't want to pay any attention to them; couldn't, really. And so, through the prevailing chaos inside him, at first he was only vaguely aware of them approaching him slowly and cautiously, as if he were a wild animal that might snap at any moment.
It was only when the person finally stopped not too far from him that he managed to bite out: "Gawk at me any longer and I promise you'll be the first one I pay a visit to when I get out of here."
There was a beat of silence, and then:
"I have to say, those are some fighting words from someone in your position."
In an instant his eyes snapped open and he turned his head with such speed that he almost felt dizzy again.
You returned his thunderstruck look with a small chuckle. "Now who's gawking?"
***
(no Hildisvini calling reader he is not a mistake🤫)
also wooo writing action scenes is hard yo..i hope it's easy to follow at least😅
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multi-fandom-imagine · 5 months
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Day 26: Sex in public
Fandom: God Of War
Character: Kratos
Warnings: public sex.
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Kratos knew it was wrong to be jealous, that he had no right to be jealous. You would never do anything to hurt him, you loved him.
But he couldn’t help but feel his blood boil seeing Freyr flirt with you, hearing your airy laugh. It took far to much willpower to not break the gods neck, but it did not take enough to pull you away from the man as a look of confusion took your face until it morphed into a smile. ‘He is jealous, how cute’
You would have expected this to happen, that Kratos would pull something like this. That he wouldn’t care about taking you in such a public space, claiming yli as his and you found yourself not caring at all.
A cry tore from your lips, Kratos gripping your hips tightly as he roughly fucked you. His shaft pulling out of your cunt only to slam back in. You were on your knees, your nails digging into the dirt. Your breasts were bouncing with each of his thrusts. You didn’t care if they heard you, you wanted them to know how good Kratos was fucking you.
Bending down, Kratos pulled you in for a deep kiss as he let his tongue glide over yours. Groaning into your mouth he could feel your walls tighten around his cock. Fucking you through your orgasm, he then let his hands grasp your breast.
He wasn’t done with you yet, oh no. He will make sure that everyone will hear who you are with.
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