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#i may not be a father but i am right with kratos in game being simultaneously proud of him and not wanting him to grow up too fast</3

coffeehighallthetime-blog · 8 months

Text

I am kind, not Complacent chpt 1,{next}

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Word count: 4.9 k

Multi chapter

Heimdall gow x fém! Reader

hi all, this is a Heimdall x reader fic that I was inspired to write thanks to the very kind and talented @engardeitsme I want to thank you for reading my draft and encouraging me to share this with people.

synopsis: You are a little goddess of peace, alone for so long, fearing interacting with the outside world may just make things worse. odin hears of your existence and finds that you may be of use to him, but what will happen when he finds out that peace to you means freedom and fighting for what's right? what will he do as you, just a child, turn his allies against him? turn his son against him?

the reader will be a child for a few chapters, mute at times (spoilers) and the first few chapters will also be a back story before the events of Ragnorok, but we will get there as it is based on the game's plot! aka: Don't worry, there will be some adult pining as well, maybe smut??( idk what I'm doing) and you will see Atreus and Mimir, and Kratos and the rest of our found family.

please enjoy and let me know if you like this and want more because my plan is to write a pretty long story with multiple chapters and I enjoy positive enforcement :..)

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“Excuse me?” a timid voice whispered from the large wooden chest being hoisted between two winged warriors. The moonlight of Vaneheim shone through the keyhole, and YN could only guess the direction they were headed from her memory of the woods. She knocked on the inside of the box on the side of one of her captors. “E-excuse me?” she mumbled a bit louder, “ Um, where are we going? You shouldn’t take me too close to people. And I-it’s starting to feel a bit cramped in here-” A slam came from her left, cutting her off with a start and she held her breath.

“Shut your mouth, Serpent Tongue.” A voice of the Valkerie on her left boomed. YN sighed through her nose and sat silently, her little fingers squeezing into fists and resting on her thighs as she curled up tighter into the cramped chest. Her heart shuttered the farther they got away from her camp, and she could only hope that wherever she was going, she would be able to talk her way out of it and go back to solitude. It was best that way.

Suddenly, the marching of the two Valkeries stopped, and the rushing sound of wind and the screeching of ravens rang in YN’s ears.

The chest rattled, and sweeping darkness fluttered over the moon’s light streaming through the keyhole. YN shut her eyes tightly, covering her ears as the screeching and wings got louder and louder until suddenly there was silence. Not eery, or deafening, but somehow suddenly calm and warm. YN slowly uncovered her ears, willing her eyes to open even slightly. A warm stream of candlelight and the sweet smell of juniper berries and oak came from the keyhole. She slowly rolled onto her knees and peeked out to see where she had been taken. The room was vast and stacked from floor to ceiling with books. Scrolls lay sprawled across a large wooden desk, and she could hear a fire crackling to the left. The screeching of a chair’s legs against the wood floor took her attention, and as she tried to peek at who it was, she gasped; the chest being dropped about a foot onto the floor.

“All-father,” the Valkyries stood rigidly at attention, “We have captured the girl, as requested.” The bottom half of a blue robe, embroidered in intricate golden threads and beading was all YN could see come into view and she swallowed thickly as he stood only a few feet from where she was.

“Wha- she’s in there? The poor thing must be terrified, let her out at once!” He commanded, knocking on the top of the chest, “ I’m so sorry, dear child!” Odin apologized as the Valkyrie on the right unlocked the chest and both Valkyries lifted the top open. Inside, YN winced at the sudden flood of light and hid her face in her hands. Odin crouched down gently, resting his hands on the edge of the box. He waited patiently for the little girl to raise her head, peeking slightly at the man who just smiled down at her. “ I’m so sorry, child. I sent my valkyries because I knew they could be trusted with bringing you here unharmed, but I suppose I forgot to explain that you were to be treated as a guest,” he glared at one, “and not a suspect.” he glared at the other. They stayed unmoving, staring straight ahead. He sighed and turned his attention back to the little girl in the chest. “ You are here now, though, and you are safe now.” He said finally, reaching out a hand for her to grab. She stared at him for a moment and down at his hand, before slowly grabbing it and allowing him to help her from the chest.

“Thank you…” she whispered finally as she got her footing on the wood floor. She still couldn’t look away from their hands as she spoke again. “Am I… in trouble? I apologize if I’ve done anything to upset you.” she froze at the sudden booming laughter of the man in front of her.

“ Trouble? Of course not, sweet girl. But you are very well-spoken, may I just say!”

“Thank you, sir.”

“ You may call me All-Father.” he offered with a pat on her hand. She nodded apprehensively but responded in any case.

“Thank you, All-Father. You may call me YN,” she said instead, bowing a bit lower. Odin tutted and tucked a finder under the girl's chin, making their eyes meet.

“ Now, now. None of that.” he stood tall and with a wave of his hand, the Valkeries dismissed themselves, and YN and Odin were left alone in his study. Odin turned to walk back behind his desk and took a seat, ushering the girl to sit in front of him. She obliged, crawling onto the large chair and letting her feet dangle off the floor, barely able to see Odin over the desk. The man chuckled softly and leaned in closer, resting his elbows on a stack of scrolls. “Do you know why you’re here, YN?”

She thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No, sir. But I hope I can help in some way, so that I may return home. It is best you keep me away from others.” Odin chuckled again, pointing at her.

“That. That’s why—quite the negotiator. You are very well-spoken, YN, and you are so small. Did your family teach you such good manners?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.

“No sir, my family passed away long ago, I’ve been on my own for a bit now.”

“Hm… and how long is a bit?”

“ 3 years in the spring, sir,” she said a bit too quickly. She had been counting every day she had been alone since she could remember. She was truly just a tot when it happened. Only remembering the screams and the flame of her village burning to the ground. She remembered sobbing over her mother’s corpse and promising to never let any needless bloodshed happen again. She didn’t realize her grief was so strong it had cursed her with immortality and the responsibility to hold up her end of the bargain. And though she tried her best to learn and meditate, no one took a little girl asking them to stop fighting seriously. Godly rage in the hands of an emotional child caused more harm than good, turning entire civilizations into mindless drones. No bloodshed, but no soul either. She went into hiding soon after, thinking it better for people to fight for what they believed in, rather than being complacent.

“And you don’t look a day over 12 years.” Odin broke her out of deep thought and she only nodded.

“My… aging has slowed since my family has passed...” She spoke slowly, starting to understand the circumstances.”... you know who I am, don’t you, sir? What I am…” She simply watched as Odin stroked his beard, seeming to ponder what to say next.

“ I do…you are the young goddess of logic, strategy, protection…peace. You seek nothing but peace… And do you know who I am?” He questioned. YN paused for a moment, looking around the room before meeting his gaze once again, “ You are someone important… but I do not know beyond that, I am sorry…” Odin nodded again.

“ I am Odin, the All-Father. Kind of the Asir Gods. it is my job to protect Asgard and the rest of the 9 realms.”

“Odin…” The girl let the name linger on her tongue and realization made her go ridged. “Yes… Yes, I have heard of Odin… are we in Asgard? I thought it wasn’t allowed for people like me.”Odin laughed at this, shaking his head in amusement.

“Yes for our protection I have closed us off from the other realms. But you are a guest. You’ve been alone for a long time.” He stated.

“Yes, sir. I know nothing much outside of Vaneheim, and I have spent little time talking to people enough to understand what is happening in the realms. The easiest way to keep peace for me… is to keep space…”

“Mmh…” he hummed, hinting he wanted some elaboration. The girl nodded and continued,

“ I have found that when I speak… when I speak with people and I’m not careful… they become, uhm… empty?” she tried the word on her tongue, “they don’t act the same. Like ghosts just passing by each other. There is no war or hunger… but there is also no life…” she explained, starting to lose her train of thought. “I just don’t know what I’m doing…” she whispers finally. Odin nods and straightens himself to look down at YN.

“ I’ve been keeping my eye on you for a while, dear child. You seemed so alone, it was heartbreaking…Are you lonely?”

“Yes.” She spoke, without hesitation, not even quite realizing her own words until they rang in her ears. She stiffened in realization, but slowly relaxed into her seat, fidgeting with her hands. “Yes, I am…I don’t run into people much… and Skoll and Hati are a great company, but I miss… I miss my family…” she all but whispered at last, her lip quivering as she came to the realization this was the longest conversation she’s had in nearly 50 years. A blink of an eye in her immortal life, but long and unbearable just the same. She was, after all, only a child. Odin took a moment to listen and let the girl sit in silence before standing up slowly and walking up to her before crouching at her side.

“ I have been watching over you… and how deeply you care for every breathing creature around you so much that you find the strength to stay away is something deeply admirable. You are a very powerful, YN. And I think if you stayed here with me… I would be able to help you use your power to help Asgard build strong connections with all the realms, to create peace everywhere, without fear that you may be manipulating people with your words.”

YN looked up to meet Odin’s gaze and rubbed a tear welling up in her eye. The idea that she may be able to help so many people. May be able to stop needless bloodshed. And to do so without taking away people's free will. It made her heart thrum with hope for the first time in years.

“You think you can teach me?” she asked softly, rubbing under her nose. Odin smiled, resting his withered hand on her head. “Teach me to help people? To help build relationships and… and keep their souls whole?”

“With my help?” Odin asked dramatically, “ Absolutely.”

YN’s heart pumped fast in her chest and she couldn't stop herself from throwing her little arms around Odin’s neck, pressing her teary eyes into his shoulder. He stiffened, staring at the girl clinging to him, before relaxing with a chuckle and patting her back. She knew better than to trust strangers, but for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone.

“We will talk more soon, but now it is late. Let me show you to your room, There is a hot meal waiting for you, and we don’t want it to get cold now, do we?” He held her at arm's length by the shoulders and helped her whip her tears with the end of his robe. She could only nod as she tried to subside her gently sobbing and Odin stood tall, guiding her with a gentle hand on her head to the upstairs level of the lodge. It was mostly quiet, with gentle murmurs coming from a room here or there. The candlelight felt so calming and YN took this moment to just take in the grandness of the lodge.

“ It’s so big…” she whispered. Odin snickered and ruffled her hair.

“I suppose it is, isn’t it?” he stopped in front of a large oak door at the end of the hall with gold inlay and burnt carvings. He swung the door open to reveal and gently lit the room, Simple yes, but to YN? It was the picture of comfort. I fireplace in one corner, a large queen bed in the other piled with a stack of fine furs with a corner table. A bowl of stew steamed and being cooled by a light breeze flowing through the window. Finally, her eyes landed on two shelves, one full of books and one full of weapons.

“Weapons?” she looked at them quizzically. Odin simply nodded as he led her to her bed, pulling the small table closer so she could start eating.

“ yes. You will be taught to hone your brains, but every Asgardian god must learn to fight. It’s an unfortunate precaution. But it’s because I care so deeply for my family.” YN, swallowing a piping mouthful and staring at Odin with eyes wide as dinner plates.

“Family… me?”

Odin just smiled in return leaning town to tuck a stray hair behind the girl’s ear and kissing the top of her head.

“Get some rest, sweet girl.” With that, Odin walked to the door and bowed before taking his leave. As he shut the door and turned, he could see piercing pink eyes staring from the room across the way. “Heimdall?” he questioned, and was met by the embarrassed gasp of the little boy who had been caught red-handed. Odin sauntered over to the door and the door opened wider, revealing a young boy who looked about twelve, with a mop of golden blond hair and bright rosy sapphire eyes, freckles showing in the candlelight. The boy bowed deeply.

“I’m sorry, All father. I heard noises…different ones I mean.” He stated, not looking his father in the eyes. He seemed to wince now and then, as a barrage of noises and conversations pounded into his ears. Odin patted his head lightly and Heimdall looked up, trying not to show his nervousness. “Who is that girl?”

“A guest, Heimdall. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

“A guest… do you think she can be trusted, All-father?” Heimdall looked nervously beyond his father’s figure, staring at the door and listening to what could be happening. There was the clinking of a spoon hitting the bottom of a bowl, the crackle of a dying fire, and a soft hum that seemed to soothe his trembling the more he focused on it. He looked back as his father chortled.

“ I suppose I’ll leave that up to you. She can be of great use to us as a mediator, and she seems eager to help if it means she can learn her powers. But only time will tell.” Heimdall nodded, wringing his hands together nervously as he spoke up again.

“ Do you think… we could be friends, All-Father?”

“Friends? My boy, I’m sorry but I can’t have you getting too distracted. It would be best if you could read her mind and be done with it. If only you were improving faster.” He tsked and Heimdall lowered his head.

“And besides,” Odin continued, “ She will have her own studies to focus on.” Heimdall’s shoulders drooped at the answer and he nodded, meekly. Odin sighed, pinching his temple in slight annoyance before putting on another smile and resting a hand on his Son’s shoulder. “Listen… I will introduce you two, and maybe I can have you two do some combat training here or there. This will allow you the opportunity to learn more about her; do some intel work for me, hm? But you have a very important role to fulfill, Heimdall, I can’t let you lose sight of that. Alright?” Heimdall perked up slightly and nodded.

“Yes, All-father. Thank you, All-father. I promise I won’t get distracted,” he bowed deeply and retreated behind his bedroom door. “Good night, All-Father.”

Heimdall spun from the door, his little bare feet carrying him to his bed where he tucked himself into his furs. He would learn more about the girl with the soft voice tomorrow.

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YN woke to the sound of bustling outside her door. She rubbed her eyes, listening to the heavy footfalls of leather boots and the clatter of daggers and axes dangling off belts. She took in the noise of people talking and shouting down the hall, the sound of sparing outside her window, and what sounded like staff calling out to each other while running errands. She rubbed her tired eyes, stretched her arms high above her head, and flopped deeper into the furs, opening her eyes to look at the ceiling. The more she listened, the more it made her nervous; the thought she was so close to so many people. Her lips pressed tight, she sighed through her nose to ease her nerves.

“ Just don’t try to fix anything…” She mumbled to herself. She didn’t know where she was and how long she would be here, and though Odin had been welcoming and explained that being locked in the chest was a gross misunderstanding, she couldn’t shake a feeling of unnerve hidden under the warmth she felt being in a soft bed and being fed kind words. She learned long ago to never trust first impressions, but being paranoid wouldn’t help either. She felt her body start to shiver but caught herself, frowning and smacking her cheeks lightly to knock out the nerves. “Everything will be fine.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Ah!” she yelped and sprang up from her bed to see a maid had made herself comfortable in YN’s room. The maid paid no mind to the girl’s scream, simply walking over to the window to open it, letting a cool breeze in.

“I was wondering when you would finally wake up. Goodness, I only checked five different times this morning! The whole lodge is awake now and you are supposed to be at the training grounds in 30 minutes!” She was an older woman; round and soft with a simple dress that skated across the floor and a tattered apron covered in what looked like coffee stains and dust. She had rough brown hair with lightened streaks that showed her age. Crow's feet pulled at the corners of her eyes and she had permanent worry marks on her forehead. Despite that and her fast pace, she gave off a comforting aura that made YN feel safe. She hustled about, grabbing a shirt and a pair of trousers from a wooden cabinet, she set them on the bed and the girl's feet. “My name is Maliorn; you can call me Mal, Do not call me “maid” or I will smack you,” she warned. “Quickly now, grab these and come with me. I need to get you in the bath and dressed in 20 minutes.”

“Oh, ok, but-whoa!” The maid ushered her out of the hall and pushed her towards a grand bathroom. “W-wait I’m sorry I don’t understand can I at least-” YN yelped as she was shoved yet again.

“No time, we are far too behind for questions. Hurry, hurry, hurry!” YN felt eyes around staring at her, most likely because she was an unfamiliar face being corralled into a bath and trying and failing to get a word in. Before the maid slammed the door, YN saw bright pink eyes stare back into hers, the boy’s shoulders shaking in laughter at her. Her face flushed with embarrassment and she couldn’t do much but hide her face in her clothes. Mal huffed as YN simply froze and ushered her to the bath. “None of that now. I wouldn’t have to rush you if you had just woken up earlier. Clothes off please.”

“I didn’t know I needed to, I’ve never had a schedule before,” YN explained, pulling her nightshirt off over her head. “I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

“Just Mal, dear,” Mal stated, picking YN up from under her arms and dropping her into the bath. YN gasped, shivering and trying to crawl out before Mal pushed her back and poured a pitcher of ice-cold water onto her head, grabbing shampoo.

“It’s f-freezing!” YN whined, shaking like a leaf as Mal pulled her sopping hair from her face and scrubbed any grime from it.

“Tch, well it would have been warm if you were awake when I drew it.” Mal teased with a smile, pouring another pitcher of water to wash the suds out. After a more thorough scrub down than YN would have liked, Mal pulled her out of the bath, tossing her a soft towel. “Hurry and get dressed. If you are quick you may be able to grab some bread from the great hall before I take you to the training grounds. Do NOT,” mal pointed a finger at the girls forehead “ go to the great hall alone. Find me and I will get you something to eat.” With that, Mal slipped out of the room, most likely to run off and take care of her other duties while she waited for YN to get dressed. The girl finally took the first deep breath since she woke up and pulled on her black trousers and green tunic, tying in the back around her waist to stop any bunching. She used leather straps to tighten the cloth of her shirt to her wrists, as well as her trousers around her ankles. She wrapped a final piece around her hair into a ponytail and ran off to try and find Mal.

YN ended up wandering into the great hall, The smell of fresh bread and lingonberry jam, sausage and lamb roast, porridge and honey, and even sweet almond cakes made her mouth water. She followed it to a main table, crowded by people nearly stacked on top of each other. Warriors in the morning were desperate to eat their fill before going off to train, and as a result, there were stronger warriors at the forefront hoarding food while others pushed against the table to grab at anything they could find. This caused fresh loaves, cakes, butter, and jam jars to topple off the table in a waste, causing more problems of ‘I was going to eat that!’ and ‘You owe me a new pair of boots, worm!’.

YN was able to dissect the entire situation and how it could be fixed, but shook her head. ‘No’ she thought ‘I can’t intervene on my first day. I just need to grab something and leave.’ With that, YN tried her best to squeeze between the crowds of people swarming the table to get some food. She huffed and tried again to move past the large lumbering bodies, her heart beating faster as the crowd’s shouting made her lose her bearings. She started to panic at the yelling and lack of space and gasped as she was grabbed by the hair and yanked to the side.

“Oy, I’m not done yet, vermin.” A man sneered down at her, his face caked in the oils of sausage links and jam. He spoke with his mouth full, sputtering food, and cackled as YN whipped her face from flying crumbs before turning back to his food. YN scowled, feeling something primal bubble up deep inside her. Letting her frustration get the better of her, YN took a deep breath before tugging on the leg of the einherjar who had grabbed her not a moment ago. He whipped around at her, snarling in annoyance.

“What do you want, you little rat?” the man sneered. YN blinked her big eyes and smiled up shyly at the hulk of a man.

“I’m very sorry, sir, but I’m having some trouble getting to the food table. Don’t you think it would be better if everyone simply took turns grabbing what they needed and then taking a seat?” Her voice seemed to echo and carry through the great hall like a song, and the shouting and clamoring started to quiet as people listened to her “suggestion”. The man in front of YN seemed to get clouded vision as he nodded slowly, his features relaxing as he finally swallowed his food and moved to the side so she could get to the table, others following suit, humming in agreement at the suggestion. The girl smiled and grabbed a loaf of warm bread, breaking it open and watching the steam ripple from the inside. She hummed as she slathered it with butter and jam and folded it back closed. Turning back, she bowed slightly at the crowd slowly surrounding her.

“Thank you, now I will take my leave and let someone else go. See? Isn’t that much better?” the girl asked with a smile, going to suck some jam off her thumb.

“Yes… You are right. So sorry, goddess…” She froze at the title, her thumb still in her mouth. She quickly popped it out and shook her head. ‘I did it again…’ she thought in a panic. YN swallowed thickly and waved her hands in the air.

“N-nevermind! It was a dumb idea, do what you want!” In a split second everyone seemed to regain their senses. The warrior she had spoken to blinked back his foggy haze and focused back down at her, glaring.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing? I wasn’t done eating yet, you little runt!” She gasped as he reached out his arm to snatch at her, and yelped when she was suddenly pulled by her scruff from the crowd. She was all but dragged outside and whipped around to a panicked Mal, who grabbed her face and scanned her body.

“My goodness, are you alright?!” Mal sighed as the girl nodded and then put on a scowl. “I thought I told you to come find me. The great hall is no place for you to be going alone, they’re all animals in there. ESPECIALLY in the mornings! The bunch of heathens.” Mal scolded YN until she noticed the girl's shy form looking meakly down at her bread. She sighed and patted her head before putting a hand on her back and leading her towards the training ground. “Now now, no use crying over spilled milk. I’m glad you got something to eat, you’ll need it. Hurry and wolf that down while you can.” YN nodded and took a bite of her breakfast, humming at the soft texture of the bread and sweet jam. She looked towards the training grounds and focused on a small boy, about her age. His golden hair shimmered in the morning sun as he moved swiftly against his opponent, a large lumbering man with fiery red hair. The boy turned, feeling YN’s eyes on him, scowled as he met her gaze. The girl frowned in return. ‘What’s his problem?’ she thought, suddenly feeling anxious at having to interact with someone who held such obvious disdain on his face.

Heimdall clicked his tongue as he focused more on her, trying to hear her thoughts, but couldn’t focus when they were so far apart. He didn’t pay enough attention to dodge a blow to the back of the head from the man he was sparing.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, glaring up at his brother, “ Hey, I wasn’t ready!” he snapped. The young man rolled his eyes, tossing his hammer lazily in his hand. He was nearly seven feet tall and still growing. His hair was tied back in two braids and a bun, and the scruff of his beard was just long enough for a single short braid.

“Pay attention, brat. I have more important things to do than teach you how to swing a sword around. The least you could do is pay attention,” he looked down at Heimdall and smirked, “and stop making it so obvious you’re trying to read minds. It’s pathetic.” Heimdall gritted his teeth.

“I’m already more useful than you, Thor. All you’re good for is throwing your weight around!” he snapped back. Thor stopped tossing his hammer and instead harshly held it under his brother’s chin, making him strain to look up at him.

“Better than being a sniveling little monster who can’t even use his gifts without sobbing like a baby. Should I tell All-Father about a few nights back? When you wept for hours because “it was just too loud to sleep~” Thor made a mocking whimper as he impersonated Heimdall and his last episode. Heimdall shivered at the mention of the All-Father and what he would do if he found out Heimdall had been crying from the voices in his head again. Thor continued, “At least I do what I was made for. I can fight, and you can barely do that.”

“Yes, I can!”

“Oh yeah?” Thor looked over at the girl coming closer to the training ground. Odin had already told him he was going to be given another brat to babysit and was dreading it until now. He smirked as he looked back down at Heimdall. “That little runt has probably never fought in her life. I bet you can’t even beat her.” Heimdall looked back towards the girl and then up at his brother.

“Is that a wager?” he smirked. Thor snorted.

“Sure. if you can best her, I’ll tell Father you’ve been improving much faster these past few days. If you can’t beat her, then…” Thor strokes his beard as he ponders a punishment then shrugs, “I’ll tell the All-Father about your most recent tantrum.” Heimdall’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“You can’t be serious!”Thor simply stood straight and crossed his arms.

“I mean, if you don’t think you can do it-”

“Of course, I can!” the boy snapped, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Thor snickered and held out his hand.

“It's a bet then.” Heimdall scowled and put his little hand in his brother's. He wasn’t going to lose to some little girl from who knows where. He was an Aseir prince. And no one would know about the things that keep him up at night. Not even the All-Father.

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#fiction #heimdall x reader #heimdall gow #gow ragnorak #gow odin #god of war x reader #fem!reader #gow x you #heimdall x you #i don't know what else to tag #@engardeitsme #i think thats it #let me know if i'm missing one #mute!reader #child!reader #child!Heimdall #I am kind not complacent #dance with me like the sun and moon

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arleniansdoodles · 7 months

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Hello there! First, let me say that your story idea is so amazing and well thought out! I am craving more content involving these characters and to see someone trying to address one of the biggest loose threads of the new God of War duology while also building up the worlds and letting the characters shine through? Astounding.

I did have an idea i wanted to run by you in this case. As we see in the games (and history) , the Nodic people have a tradition of their last names showing their parentage (prime example: Thrud Thorsdottir). I was wondering if Atreus, being Nordic and this never being brought up in the game, travels the realms stating he is Loki Kratosson (or even Laufeyson if he's either feeling a bit disheartened from his father's secret past that he kept from him or simply trying to be discreet and not let people recognize who his father is). Another thing that would absolutely shatter my soul (in a good way) is that after getting to the 8 realms and reconciling with Kratos, Calliope took up the surname Kratosdottir. It may not need to happen because you mentioned how strained their relationship is and fixing it will take a lot of work. I just thought it'd be a nice addition. Whenever you can, let me know your thoughts

Heyo! Thank you so much for your kind words!! <333 Even though I haven't finished the story yet (and I do have a writing update to share after this) I'm glad to hear you like the route I'm taking with it so far! :D

Interestingly (from my loose research), Loki in the Norse myths uses the name Laufeyjarson instead of taking after his father's name. From what I've heard, using a patronymic is the general custom, so Loki kinda stands out because of that. In the case of GoW, I'm honestly not sure which one he'd go with because he has a good relationship with both. I could see him using either name in different situations - for example, with the Giants, they might be more comfortable using the name of someone they've known and lived with, so they call him Laufeyson (like with Angrboda often referring to him as Loki instead of Atreus). To other Giants, he may be called Loki Faurbautison (using Kratos' Giant name), and to others in the Nine Realms in general, just Kratosson if they're not familiar with the Giants' name for him.

On the other hand, if Atreus were to interact with people in Greece, I think it'd be safer if he didn't use Kratos' name at all. From what I've seen, Ancient Greeks' surnames could include patronymics, occupations, descriptions of the person, etc. In my story, Calliope always introduces herself as "Calliope of Sparta," and Atreus is known as a Northman (or a northern barbarian to unkind folks). So I honestly think which surname they pick just depends on the situation ^^;;

As for what Calliope would pick, I think she'd stick with "Calliope of Sparta" for now. She may even refer to herself as "daughter of Lysandra" or "sister of Atreus," but it may take some time before she starts using Kratosdottir (or Faurbautisdottir to the Giants). I agree with you though, it would be a very nice addition to the story! Thank you for sending me your ask, it was lots of fun to think about <333

In addition, here's my update on the fic's status, if people are interested (and asking for my GoW followers' thoughts wrt to the fic):

Unfortunately, I believe I have officially burnt myself out on GoW T_T I haven't been able to write anything new for this fic since my last update, approximately - and I'm also back in university on top of working full-time. I thought I got my motivation back, but it went right down the drain soon after (and honestly, I think it's just how big the fic has gotten that's overwhelmed me, plus the expanded cast of characters, so I only have myself to blame for that loll)

So here's what I'm wondering: should I just post all the chapters I have now instead of waiting until I've finished the whole thing (which I don't know when will happen), so would y'all prefer that I stick to my original plan and wait? Chances are, if I start posting now, I might get the motivation to continue writing, but currently I can't say for sure.

#asks #kyoshisimp #god of war #god of war ragnarok #au #if the entire story was solely focus on atreus and calliope with a small cast #i think i would've been able to finish it a while back #like my sifu fic loll i busted that one out in two months #30-ish chapters with a main cast of six ppl #and they all don't get together until the final section of the fic #so i got to focus on the mc's interactions with each one and not get overwhelmed #siiigh writing is hard :''''')#atreus #calliope #kratos

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verumyn · 1 year

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I wrote this for my English class but I thought tumblr might like it

Recently I’ve been playing the Witcher 3. After watching my boyfriend play through God of War 4 and God of War: Ragnarok, it’s been interesting to notice the subtle differences between Geralt of Rivia and Kratos. Both are stern, quiet, guilt-ridden men with children. Geralt didn’t quite willingly become Ciri’s father figure, she is much older and independent than Atreus, and she isn’t traveling with Geralt (where I am in the game, at least.) As a result of these differences, Kratos is much more focused on passing on lessons to his son, and his morals come to the forefront of the game often in that way. He hides parts of himself, trying to protect Atreus and spare him any influence from Krato’s past. I see Geralt’s moral perspective come through mostly through his own choices. You can somewhat change Geralt’s moral disposition yourself in the games. I most often try to pick the most honorable/kind/moral moral option, and even at that level of dialogue, Geralt comes across to me as more morally gray than Kratos.

(Spoilers for Wild at Heart side quest in the Witcher 3)

I was considering Geralt’s sense of morality (and my own) during a specific side quest. A man, Niellan, said his wife had gone missing. His sister-in-law, Margrit, urged us not to look for her (suspicious, right?) We find his wife, Hanna, dead in the woods - killed by a werewolf. A short investigation reveals that Niellan is the werewolf. He would lock himself up in a cave under his hunting lodge and hope he didn’t hurt anything. The only choice given to us by the game is to wait for night to fall and attack the werewolf. Once Niellan is defeated, Margrit appears and begs us not to kill him, for she loves him, confessing to luring Margrit into the woods to be killed by Niellan during his transformed frenzy so they could be together. Niellan responds, saying, “I will kill you willingly. First time for that. You showed no mercy for your sister, and so I will show no mercy to you.” We then have the choice of killing Niellan to save Margrit, or to let Niellan kill her. If we let him kill Margrit, we encourage Niellan to stay out of our way, so he may continue living his life in peace, but he begs for us to kill him - and so we do.

I thought to myself - I would have much preferred if there was a third option to try and deescalate the situation, and let both parties live. Geralt seemed to have two options for werewolves in his mind. 1) Cause trouble and I’ll kill you, or 2) I’ll pretend I didn’t see you, stay out of my way. Having lived a life of violence himself and often being compared to a monster without empathy, I would think that Geralt could offer a werewolf mercy and, perhaps, options on how to mitigate the damage of their curse. Niellan already was managing his lycanthropy the best he could - and it was only Margrit’s manipulation of the situation that led to Hanna’s death. So why did Geralt see his only option as staking out in the werewolf’s lair and killing it? I suppose he saw the danger of letting Niellan live to be too much - but his later decisions speak to him being willing to bend that - he offered mercy to Niellan, but only AFTER he murdered Margrit for what she did. Perhaps it’s a weakness of the writing, but to me it also signifies a character trait of Geralt - that he does what he thinks is necessary, but that seems to change and bend with context, maybe without the most forethought and wisdom.

(Spoilers for the end of God of War 4)

Kratos, contrastingly, I think showcases his morals very clearly in his final fight with Baldur. He only fights to defend Freya (Baldur’s mother) - and several times over gives Baldur the chance to walk away. He only enacted the final blow when Baldur was seconds away from murdering his mother. Kratos shows consistency, which I think only comes from the deep reflection he has done on his past and the value of his life moving forward.

#god of war #kratos #the witcher #geralt

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your-sovereign-ruler · 3 years

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Nike

I had fun doing the last deity highlight, so I have decided to turn it into a little series. Feel free to suggest what I do next!

Next up is Nike, goddess of victory. I don’t know why, I just felt like doing her next. This series won’t just be goddesses, just to be clear, or just Hellenic deities either, I’m just doing what feels best and will be the most fun for me.

Her background:

Nike’s parents are the Titans Pallas, the Titan of war-craft and strategy, and Styx, the personification of the river Styx. She has three siblings; Zelus (God of zeal or emulation) Bia (goddess of force) and Kratos (god of strength). Bia was the one who bound Prometheus to the rock for the vultures to peck at!

Nike herself is the goddess of victory in both competition and battle. She is a maiden goddess, and is often associated most closely with Athena and Zeus.

Mythology:

Back at the beginning of the Titan War, Zeus was looking for allies to help the Gods defeat their father, Kronos. Styx agreed to help, and brought her four children with her. The four of them became the sentinels of Zeus’ throne, and Nike had the added job of being Zeus’ charioteer.

When all the other gods fled from Typhon, Nike, disguised as Leto, stayed with Zeus to offer him support and advice.

Nike is also often around Athena, as she is the goddess of strategy in war.

Symbols:

Wing imagery

Laurel crowns

Palm branch

Golden sandals

Shield (On which she transcribes the names of all victors)

Her color is gold

Offerings:

*Devote a workout to her

Rose incense

Sandalwood incense

Feathers

Cordage (rope) jewelry (Preferably handmade)

Gold items

*Take a walk or run and devote it to her

*Devote a competition, game, or meet to her

Candle offerings

*When I have make offerings like this, I tend to wear something specific to show that I am devoting the act to them. For Loki, I had a particular necklace. For Nike, some recommendations could be:

A laurel or palm leaf patterned headband

A metal or gold-colored headband

A particular item of gold jewelry

Something with wings on it

Good things for an altar:

Trophies you’ve won

Homemade offering bowl (She likes personal victories, not just ones in competition.)

Gold things, like jewelry

The color gold should be a bit of a theme, but she likes most metals

Idol ideas:

Idols are objects representative of your deity on the altar. This one may be a bit hard to find, so I’m doing a list of suggestions. However, as I’ve never worked with this goddess, take everything with a grain of salt, and do what feels right, rather than adhering to a list.

A mock-laurel wreath (While the real thing may be difficult to find, and dies quickly, a fake one may be a decent substitute. I’ve seen them painted gold, too)

A Greek-style sandal (If you thrift it, be sure to clean it as best you can, and ask if it’s alright)

A nice, cleaned feather (If you don’t know how to properly clean one yourself, you can find instructions here.)

A statue of her, of course (However, they can be difficult to find, especially in a reasonable price range)

A gold medal you’ve won

I would avoid using the Nike brand for anything unless she expressly states that she wants it or would appreciate it. While my former patron, Loki, had a sense of humor, and delighted in my little MCU statuettes, in particular the gold Loki Pop figure my sister gave me, he’s well known for being unconventional. I cannot say how she, or any other god would react to modern interpretations or uses of their image.

Feel free to contact me with suggestions for things to add, or to suggest a deity to cover next time. Until then, blessed be!

#goddess worship #nike goddess #nike worship #hellenic gods #hellenic polytheism #hellenic witch #hellenic worship #witchcraft #magic #magick #hellenic #hellenic pagan #nike #deity resources

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secret-diary-of-an-fa · 3 years

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God of War (PS4) Review: Kratos’ Postal Grief Beard Versus Norse Mythology

Once upon a time, a man was born by the name of Cory Barlog and thus a coin was flipped. Would he become a videogame developer or would he take up guarding the Mines of Moria by pulling wizards into a precipice? Those really are the only two options with a name like Barlog. Anyway, apparently the Mines of Moria were a bit of a commute, so the world gained a talented Auteur developer with a unique vision for a game series about going postal in ancient Greece. Fast-foward a number of years specifically calculated to make you feel old and ancient Greece is a distant memory. Norse mythology is where all the cool kids hang out nowadays, and that’s where we’re going in today’s review.

As you might have guessed, I’ve just finished playing God of War (PS4), which is fun to say because it rhymes. It’s a very good game that should be a very bad game. When considering modern media artefacts, I’m often prompted to ask the question ‘what went so wrong?’, but this may be the first time I’ve had to ask the question ‘what went so right?’.

Let me explain: God of War 4 (I don’t care that they don’t put the number on the box art, that’s what it fucking is) makes a single, monumentally stupid creative decision that should ruin the entire enterprise, but doesn’t. And that creative decision was- wait for it- a stab at maturity.

The last time we saw Kratos- the world’s angriest mythical being- he was finishing his battle with the Greek gods in God of War 3. There was a moment in that game which, to me, typified what was so great about the series. If I recall the sequence of events correctly, you kill your way through an ocean of expendable goons and critters who are just trying to defend their home on Mount Olympus, dripping with blood and screaming furiously, then wander into the bedroom of one of ancient Greece’s sauciest goddesses and play a sex minigame that you win by fucking her so well that her handmaids orgasm too. Then you toddle outside again and, head cleared, solve an incredibly complex and cerebral puzzle involving non-Euclidean geometry and perspective manipulation that takes bloody ages. That, in a nutshell, was the core identity of the original God of War: a gleefully unrestrained and immature approach to sex and violence coupled with a grouchy willingness to make unsuspecting players feel like fucking idiots for no reason whatsoever. It was awesome. In contrast, God of War 4 picks up many, many years later with Kratos hiding out in Midgard of the Norse mythos and, for once, he hasn’t got a nark on and he’s not trying to stick his cock in someone with cartoonishly huge knockers. He’s just sad because his missus has passed away, leaving him and their young, impressionable son alone in a big, scary world full of trolls and ginger psychopaths. ‘Sad’ isn’t a completely new emotion for Kratos, but, up until this point, he was usually sad in a way that resulted in five hundred people getting their spines broken in a very colourful manner. Now he just wants to cremate the remains of the woman he loved and carry her ashes to the tallest peak in the nine realms so he can scatter her in accordance with her final wishes. And that’s what he does, with son- Atreus- in tow. It’s a twenty-plus hour game in which the objective is very simply to honour someone’s preferred funeral rites- nothing more, nothing less. It’s very modest by Kratos usual standards. Remember that his stated goal in the previous game was to punch freakin’ Zeus so hard that his face would go all concave and then repeatedly stamp on his corpse.

We never actually find out much about what Kratos was up to between games or how he met his wife. However, he’s a bit thiccer than in previous instalments and seems to have lost the use of the ‘jump’ button outside of context-sensitive environments. On that evidence, I choose to believe he’s been running a small but successful family restaurant called ‘Kratos’ Potatoes’ and enjoying it all a bit much. And why not? He beat up Zeus- if he just wants to create and sample homely yet exotic Greco-Norse fusion cuisine while growing a ridiculous straggly dad-beard, I say let him crack on. Actually, is it a ‘dad beard’ or is it a ‘grief beard’? I think they send them to videogame characters in the post whenever a loved one dies so they can signal to the world how sad they are through the medium of angsty facial hair. But where was? Oh yeah: cracking on with it.

Y’see this is where the plot comes in: the Norse gods won’t let Kratos crack on. They’re determined to make him bow before Odin- especially Baldur, who is way too invested in having a fight with Kratos for reasons that won’t become apparent until very late in the game. They just keep turning up and trying to break Kratos and his increasingly like-him-but-not-as-good-at-it son Atreus. This time around, our heroes commit heinous acts of violence to defend themselves, not enact revenge, as they travel, inexorably, to the top of a lonely mountain through landscapes of stunning natural beauty and many, many hostile creatures.

Of course, Kratos taking his son on a hiking holiday with added troll-murder and the occasional slap-fight with Norse mythology’s biggest killjoys doesn’t sound as interesting as the original games. After all, those were basically a production of Kill Bill in which the part of Bill was played by a guy with the power to summon lightning bolts and access to a seemingly unstoppable army of monsters and demigods. The ‘fun factor’ even seems to have taken another downgrade, in that Kratos no longer operates with the entertainingly demented passion of the insane: he has been tempered by time and love and managed to turn himself into a paragon of serious self control. So why is God of War 4 so bloody good? Partly, I suspect, the answer lies in the constantly evolving relationship between Kratos and Atreus, which gives the story an unbelievable amount of heart and always manages to feel very organic. Kratos never learned how to be a parent, and we essentially watch him do it in real time, forming a bond with his son that seems impossible at the start of the game and inevitable by the end. Partly, the games greatness lies in the characters you meet along the way, who range from bickering dwarves to talking, decapitated heads who prattle on like laid-back tour-guides. Partly, it’s in the beautiful, epic landscapes that make the journey across the Realms to the highest peak feel epic and significant, even while it is small and personal.

But a videogame is nothing without gameplay, and it is here that God of War 4 really shines. I loved the original God of War trilogy (especially the third instalment), but I rarely felt like I was playing as, y’know, a god of war. Kratos might not be an uncontrollable whirlwind of fury any more, but he feels truly powerful for the first time in the ongoing series. In fights, every punch feels like it could crack stone; every axe-throw like it could rend the sky; every chain-whip like it could legitimately start a forest-fire. Out of combat, Kratos moves around the environment with the stolid grace of a man who knows his movements are inevitable; irresistible; an imposition on the environment that can’t be denied. You climb and complete elaborate, complex traversals knowing that the satisfaction you feel isn’t just the satisfaction of finding the correct route or solving an obstacle, but the satisfaction of a being forcing his way through a landscape that resists him at every turn but cannot stop him. The puzzles- of which there are many- strike the perfect balance between conceptual trickiness and ease of execution to remind you that Kratos is smart as well as determined; that his mind is as indomitable as his body. Then there are the little touches involving heaving huge stone pillars and similar unnecessarily over-the-top efforts. In short, the gameplay is interwoven with who Kratos is- with what he is in way that seems completely unprecedented. Even the RPG elements feel appropriate: they reflect the protagonist’s growing confidence in a skillet he hasn’t used in a long, long time.

Do I miss the uniquely juvenile, over the top identity of the old games? Absolutely: I’m a great fan of gratuitous gore and scantily clad women with big fuck-off swords. Usually, I find the desire for maturity in games to be a silly, pretentious trend that foolishly eschews anything obviously ‘fun’ for no reason other than courting the respect of people whose respect isn’t worth having. But I don’t think that’s what’s going on here- at least, not entirely. The developers of the God of War games are clearly artisans and craftsmen of extreme talent: their attention to detail is superb and their ability to weave a good tale from a simple premise is actually a little daunting for someone who considers himself a bloody good story-teller. It’s worth remembering that the de facto head of the studio, Barlog, became a father himself before commencing work on this game about a father learning to bond with his son. It feels personal and meant because it is. Other games might reach for superficially mature themes like family and redemption for altogether cynical reasons. God of War 4 does it because such thoughts are clearly much on the developer’s mind. I asked already ‘Do I miss the identity of the old games?’ and the answer is still yes. But that question deserves a follow-up: am I willing to embrace the identity of this new, quieter God of War anyway? And yes, yes I am.

But if we could have a few more women with enormous knockers and Kratos going properly batshit just once or twice in the next sequel, that would also be welcome. I mean, let’s try to strike a balance here, people, for pity’s sake.

#Secret Diary of a Fat Admirer #God of War #God of War 4 #god of war sequel #Kratos #Zeus #norse mythology #greek mythology #videogames #game review #games

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