#songbird of asgard

[ninjahiccups]

The Songbird of Asgard

Chapter 7: Want

AO3 Link OC insert version Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 Word count: 11.4k Warnings: canon typical violence, another metaphor for toxic family if you squint, Heimdall is touch starved

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- Blurb: One more trip to Alfheim, and you're more prepared to handle whatever unwanted memories come to you. Despite your resilience, you find yourself knocked down again. This time a certain god chooses to act. --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Again, not happy with this one, but hopefully you guys like it more than I do lol

Heimdall tried to avoid you. Really, he did. He was busy, had plenty to do, no time for fooling around. He wasn't trying to deny anything. There was nothing for him to deny. No, not a single thing. 

It didn't last long. In fact, he automatically approached you even more than he had before you went to Svartalfheim. Up until this point your interactions outside of your safe space had been fleeting, limited to a short moment here and there, a few jabs at each other in passing. Now whenever he saw you, he would actively seek you out, just start talking to you like he had always done it. He wouldn't linger long, still prioritizing whatever Odin had asked of him, but any time he caught sight of you he automatically spared a couple minutes to chat.

Everyone started to pity you. You could tell. Whenever Heimdall approached you servants and gods alike would look at you like you were being tortured. Some of them even complimented your ability to keep your cool around him. In truth, it was surprising, but not unwelcome. There was even something…uplifting about his sudden willingness to bring your friendship out of the secluded sidelines. It was a wake up call, in a way. This wasn't just a pastime he used to relax. It had become a real bond, and not the one you were expecting. With that in mind, you got the feeling that things had deviated even more as of late, no matter how much you tried to rationalize it.

You did your best to ignore that thought. Heimdall was a private, complicated, distrustful man, and not without reason. He wouldn't seek out something like…whatever you were thinking. He would definitely not be interested in anything beyond this. Then again…it had been well over six months since you started getting along. Maybe it had been long enough.

No, you weren't serious. Things weren't turning out this way, not at all. You were friends. That was all he wanted and you felt the same. You had definitely not grown attached to that whiny manchild. That pompous, overconfident jerk. The man that would have gladly killed you without a second thought once upon a time. A god that couldn't care less for most others and was too arrogant to start thinking he should. The person that would always say he doesn't pout, and then pout in a way that had become more cute than irritating. A man that was so passionate and dedicated to the things he loved. Smart and funny, even if it was in cruel ways sometimes. He was much more thoughtful than most would give him credit for, your many discussions about books you loved proved as much. Someone with plenty of outward flaws, but with so many hidden gems that made you want to care about him, likely making you the only person who did. His eyes were still so pretty, and you loved the handsome smiles he wore when you would sing to him. 

It was only friendship. You definitely didn't miss him when he didn't visit you at your getaway for several days after your errand in Svartalfheim. The times Sif tore you away from Heimdall while shooting him a suspicious glare were not annoying. That wasn't how it was at all. 

But what else would it be?

Heimdall growled the same thing to himself when he finally returned to your hideout for the first time. He was fond of you. Yes, and? It didn't mean a single thing. Nothing had changed, and there was no need for it. He just…wanted to hear a calming lyre that day. He wasn't cracking. His resolve wasn't shattering. 

He definitely didn't feel ten times lighter when he heard you singing for the first time in days.

Confusion and questions, ones that neither of you would properly address. As far as either of you were concerned, you were still friends. You were still the one person he could relax with and was capable of matching his intellect. Heimdall was still the solitary god that you wanted to help get away from the burden of his foresight. With that in your minds, they gradually settled into denial.

Heimdall still wondered what he was thinking about every other day. Every time he did he would grow frustrated with the conflict between these urges and his common sense, but as soon as he gave in to temptation he seemed to forget all about it. It was so much easier when he didn't think so much…so he didn't. 

In the end, it made him feel so much better to just let go.

It was almost another month of this shuffling around the ignored uncertainties while Odin tested the artifact's repaired core. You assured him it was stable, but he wanted to be absolutely sure that nothing catastrophic would happen if it were used someday. It was tied to all the realms, after all. On top of that, he had hoped to narrow down the location of the next piece as much as possible. 

Which he did, but not enough for Heimdall's liking.

He made no complaints, but he did feel heavy while he went looking for you so you could retrieve it. Alfheim again, of all places. And in a part of the realm that was worse than the last. You had learned some things since then, maybe this time would go smoother. 

He found you in the Great Lodge with Sif and Thrud, idly chatting while the youngster was pretending the cheese and grapes from her lunch were battling on her plate. Heimdall gagged at the sight before dismissing her presence and standing before you and Sif.

Sif was not pleased. She gave Heimdall an ugly glare, daring him to interrupt your conversation once again, still so certain that you were just too nice to tell him to get lost. "Ladies," he greeted, not at all serious. Sif growled, "What do you want, Heimdall? We all know you have work to do."

"How perceptive of you," said while he rolled his eyes. "You are correct, however. That's precisely why I'm here." His eyes went to you, who nodded in understanding while Sif sighed in defeat.

"We'll finish up later," you said as you joined Heimdall. On your way out you patted the little girl's shoulder and whispered, "Make sure it's a fair fight, okay?"

Thrud giggled a bit too enthusiastically, "The cheese is just losing!" You chuckled at that, and her mother's tired sigh when she saw the mess Thrud made.

Muninn was waiting outside on the roof of the lodge, cawing impatiently like it had been waiting for years. Heimdall held up his hand to the agitated bird. "Before we set out, you should know where we're going." He paused, reading you closely so he could monitor your reaction. "We're going to Alfheim again."

Disappointment. Not nearly as potent as the first time. "And? I'm sure I could have figured that out."

Heimdall could feel it. That one sensation that he had never experienced. Worry was coiling in his gut. Worry. Him. He hated knowing that's what made him loathe everything about this, but repeating that to himself didn't make it go away. "Not just anywhere in Alfheim. A light elf temple."

"The Temple of Light?"

"No."

There it was. The sinking of your spirits at the realization. "Show me." You weren't willing to assume the worst until it was undeniable.

Muninn heard and obeyed you, encircling you in ravens until you were at the edge of a lush forest, green and yellow vegetation dangling from the tree branches above. It was sunset, painting the scenery with shades of red and orange. The trees thinned several paces ahead of you, edges neatly trimmed and maintained by the elves, who cared for plants in Freyr's name. Beyond the thin strip of empty land was a river with a white marble bridge arching over it. There was a neat garden on the other side, the wild trees lining the rectangular clearing, fencing off most of the interior. Groups of shrubs and bushes with flowers made of butterflies were arranged in an intricate pattern, the complete design only visible from the top of the structure in the center. That structure was a temple, white and light blue and gold with giant blue gems illuminating the walls. The tall structure was composed of several towers, each one circular and connected by beams of light. These towers formed an oval, and in the middle of the oval were three more towers separated by paths of light, arranged in a perfectly straight line. The one in the center was the tallest, stretching high above your heads and more than five times the height of the Great Lodge. The very peak was home to a large blue flame that reflected into surrounding crystals, flooding the region with a cool hue. Windows and balconies littered the walls, all of them lit by blue torches and lined with golden frames. It was truly a perfect representation of the light elves' architecture, and bright enough to see for miles in any direction. Intentional, serving as a guiding light to elves that needed to find their way to the fortress of their territory.

You felt your heart speed up and your stomach fall to your feet at the sight. This had to be the absolute worst place in the realm for you to be. "Víðbláinn," you whispered, nostalgia sweeping over you as you took in the familiar sight.

"You know it?" Heimdall asked.

"I was raised here." This was where the brightest children among the light elves lived and studied, cared for by a staff of scholars and guardians, all of them overlooked by the matron. Heimdall felt pain wallowing deep within, the dread of returning commanding you to leave. There was also a sense of longing for simpler times, well before you had started aiding the elven war.

Heimdall waited for the inevitable closing of your mind, certain that you would want to hide your thoughts from him like you did last time. Instead you turned to him, your resolve overpowering his reluctance as you held your hand out. He gave you the relic fragment you needed to start tracking the one inside.

You nearly set off without a word, but Heimdall spoke up. "No complaints?"

Most would have found that insensitive, referring to coping with ghosts of the past as "complaints." You were not one of those people, having spoken with Heimdall enough to understand what he was really asking. "I'm fine." When he didn't seem convinced, you added, "You said I can't let them bind me any longer, and I can't do that if I run away. I'm not going to hesitate this time." Stern and resolute. Absolutely certain.

Heimdall nodded, perturbed by the traces of…something your conviction made him feel. He masked it with a raised brow and a condescending smirk. "Ah, so you are capable of learning. Well, better late than never, as they say."

You slapped his shoulder — an action he predicted and allowed — with a chuckle. "Shut up. Any reason we were dropped here specifically?" You were off to the bridge.

"All-Father narrowed down its location as much as he could. He said it will be in one of the towers on this end." 

Once you crossed, you had to fight the apprehension that was creeping in. It was fortunate that you arrived minutes before nightfall. Around this time the elves would have ended most of their business and returned to their personal affairs rather than their social ones. The halls should be relatively vacant, but sentinels looking out for any threats would still be a problem. 

Heimdall caught one just after the land grew dark, signaling you to stay behind the thick tree nestled at the edge of the stone ground that the towers were constructed upon. As you waited for him to finish his inspection, you caught Heimdall admiring the ornate gold decorations inlaid across the tower walls. You smiled, recalling one of your recent get-togethers where he mentioned an interest in architecture. Asgard was his favorite, of course, but he had studied the structural feats of the other realms as well. Apparently light elf crafts were ones he respected. You whispered to him, "You? Liking the gold accents? I never would have guessed." You pointed to the gold on his clothing with a smirk. Gold was definitely his favorite color.

"You? Too daft to appreciate it? How shocking," he countered, nodding at the empty path ahead of them to tell you to drop it and keep going. You complied, but not before snickering at his annoyance.

You snuck through the garden and your trepidation only increased as you got closer and closer to the three towers in the center. The garden had ended and there was mostly bare stone surrounding the towers, leaving little cover for you to use. Worst of all, these central towers were also the ones that would be a problem — for you. There was a flower bed with a final bush with pink glowing flowers scattered across it that shielded you from the three central towers, where you confirmed that you were, in fact, going to have to breach the one on the left. A sigh escaped you. Your instincts were screaming to turn back, not to take the risk. 

Heimdall sensed it. "Something special about this one?"

"No." Only half true. It wasn't special compared to the central tower, where the highest officials and overseers stayed and worked, but it was special to you. "But it is heavily guarded."

"And nothing to hide behind." Heimdall hummed, thoughtful. "I could use realm shifts to strike them down before they see us."

You almost groaned. He had to be confrontational, didn't he? "You could, but what will we do when their bodies are inevitably found?" He only shrugged, not really caring enough to reconsider. The death of a few elves here and there didn't trouble him, so long as you accomplished your goal. "Let's do this instead." You reached back to him, then paused. Something in you was just…nervous about the contact. You had to shake it off. 

Heimdall was surprised when you grabbed his hand, nearly flinching. If you hadn't held up your other hand like you were swearing an oath he would have belittled you to hide the tingling in his fingers. Your golden magic leaked from your palm and encapsulated you in sparkles, then he saw his form becoming translucent, like he was disappearing. He opened his mouth to question what this was but you shook your head, mouthing "quiet" to him. You cautiously advanced, taking him with you and leading him through the open stone courtyard. Heimdall saw a sentinel floating gracefully across the ground and he automatically reached for his sword. You were clearly in the sentinel's sights, but you merely slowed. You stopped completely at a fountain with gold borders and a blue crystal at the spewing water's peak. The sentinel approached you, passing right in front of you, oblivious to your presence next to him. You were invisible to him, making Heimdall wonder why you had stopped. It was then he noticed it. Your shadows, casted by the light from the fountain's crystal — that would explain why you had never used this before, and why you stopped before your shadows were in the guard's line of sight. After he was gone you tugged Heimdall to the metal doors and pushed them open. Inside was the empty foyer, decorated by hanging plants and statues of prominent elves. You finally released his hand as the one casting the spell lowered, returning yourselves to normal. A sliver of disappointment flared up in him at the loss.

"You never mentioned that trick," Heimdall said with a raised brow. Unlike your earlier days he wasn't alarmed. Considering you could copy any magic you understood, a simple spell to conceal you was far from the most baffling.

You brushed it off, thinking nothing of it. "It's just a type of protection stave that conceals things from sight. The elves taught me that one, but they hardly use it."

He huffed. A spell that could conceal sight, but not sound or shadow. Given the bright torches inside you couldn't even use it while you roamed the tower regardless of the time of day. It really was next to useless. "Why would they bother teaching something so limited?"

You had to hold back a laugh, having asked the same question long ago. "Elves like tradition, and that spell is part of their training." Heimdall looked displeased at the answer, shaking his head as he thought about how ridiculous elven customs were.

You tiptoed past the foyer and into a short hallway, stopping at the end to peer into the wide circular room. A common area filled with tables and bookshelves, many of them small. You remembered this room well, where all the little elves would go through their morning routines before their lessons began. Empty at this time of day, the childrens' curfew having already passed. It was perfect for you and Heimdall, leaving you completely alone for the time being. After your inspection, you cautiously approached the stairs that wound up the wall. If you went up more than a few levels it was likely you would find the caretakers along your path.

You prayed that the one elf you were afraid of running into was in another part of the temple for once.

"Is there anyone around?" You whispered to Heimdall.

"Not at the moment."

Good. You ascended the white marble stairs, the bright blue lights casting your shadows across the steps. The hanging potted plants smelled so welcoming, memories of watering them filling your mind. It was so much easier back then. The temple was safe enough that the war was never a concern, your worries consisted of which books you could read and which elf you got to play with. And why you were such an outlier among the other children, of course. The elves never tried to convince you that you were something you were not, but it was still puzzling as a child who didn't understand how you came to be in Alfheim. 

It didn’t matter now. Things change when people grow up, and you made your choice to leave. You focused on your task, stopping at each floor to see if Heimdall could detect any passing elves. There were a few close calls when an elf or two would exit one room and enter another. Luckily none of them needed to reach a lower floor. Your fortune would only last so long if you continued climbing. The higher levels were reserved for special vaults and offices, places that required authorization to enter. If the relic was in one of those rooms…you would certainly have to renounce your stealthy tactics.

You climbed and climbed, thankful for every time an elf coincidentally avoided you. It was after you reached the fifteenth floor that you felt the tension rising. 

Then you reached the twentieth. That was where the sparkling path guiding you veered away from the stairs. You cursed to yourself.

Heimdall followed you as you slowly dragged your feet to the door it led to, picking up on the terror building in you. You stopped in front of the white doors with a blue symbol painted on them and framed with gold. Heimdall recognized the painting as Freyr's family crest, making him snort. "Their obsessions are so subtle." You didn’t answer. A bad sign considering you almost always countered his sarcasm. He followed your gaze to the metal apparatus mounted on the wall beside the door. A blue crystal was settled into it, the glow in the center very faint. 

"Only high ranking elves can enter these rooms. They're the only ones who know the magic that can deactivate these locks." Explained mechanically, like you were holding back every bit of emotion in you.

"Is that really a problem for you?" Heimdall didn’t need to ask. He could feel your intention to unlock the door, but you were reluctant. Scared.

A sigh escaped you. "No, but we won't go unnoticed once we're inside. We need to be quick."

Heimdall wanted to tell you to hurry up and do it. Instead he held his tongue. To mock you when he knew you were terrified of whatever you might find felt…inappropriate. Cruel, even, despite the fact that he would have no problem imposing cruelty on anyone else. Before he could linger on it he simply replied, "Then we'll call Muninn once we have it."

You nodded. You channeled your magic into the golden form of an elf you hadn't seen for many years, but could still recall clearly. Your encased hand reached for the door's lock, holding it over the crystal embedded in it. Within a few moments the light within grew until the crystal was pure white, and once it was, there was a distinct click from the doors. They parted on their own as you dismissed the stave around you.

You made haste, scanning the room for what you needed. The first section was a simple round room, filled with shelves of relics and tributes to times of Freyr's reign over the realm. Another set of doors was on the other side of the room, locked with the same mechanism as the first. A sigh escaped you when you saw the path disappear beneath them.

Heimdall was close behind as you approached it and used the same process to unlock the next door. Everything in the room was made of fine metals, jewels, ancient tokens from Vanaheim. That was why a simple rock caught his eye. The only distinguishing thing about it was the childlike carvings on the surface. He picked it up and chuckled at it just as the next set of doors opened. "You weren't kidding."

You turned around, finding a familiar stone in his hands. It was the one you carved Freyr's name into to trick the matron. He remembered it from the silly story you told him during your second tour of Gladsheim. The thought made you smile in spite of the worry gnawing at you. "You thought I lied?"

"It's just even more ridiculous in person," he commented while replacing the rock. Then he froze, eyes flying to the entrance. "Someone's coming."

Your heart nearly stopped. "We need to move!" You scurried through the door and didn't wait for it to close before rushing forward. The short hallway led to the main room of the vault, a long rectangular area that curved slightly to match the round tower's form. It was similar to the last one, with old books and trinkets displayed on shelves, only this one had more tributes to Freyr, including a giant statue of him holding out his sword. You grew even more exasperated when the trail you were following went down the longer hallway at the other side, where the most valuable keepsakes were stored.

You only got three quarters of the way across when Heimdall grabbed your arm. "We're out of time," he stated, eyes glued to the nearby wall. You didn’t look. You were too scared.

"Little one." Said in the elven tongue.

Every muscle in your body seized up at the voice. Shame creeped through your veins, like a child caught stealing sweets before dinner. Slowly you turned around, meeting the old elf's eyes.

"Ragnheiðr," you mumbled. The fortress's matron, the one who cared for all the elven children that lived and trained there. The elf that raised you as if you were one of them. The closest thing to a parent you'd ever known. Ragnheiðr was unmistakable even to those who hadn't met her. The robes she wore were not like the white and gold ones the light elves typically wore. These were a deep blue and gold, signaling her status as the mother figure and mentor to elven children, and therefore deserving of the highest respect. As peaceful as her role made her seam, she was just as well trained as any warrior, evident by the two blades in her hands. 

A gateway of blue light was flush with the wall behind her, where more light elves emerged, all armed and ready to attack the intruders. Ragnheiðr had other plans than an outright attack. "Keep him busy," she commanded, gaze never leaving you. The guards pounced on Heimdall, who shoved you away from him as he effortlessly countered the elves that went directly for him. More elves filtered from the wall of light to fend him off while Ragnheiðr spoke. "I had heard you abandoned us." Cold. Unforgiving.

You flinched. The matron was a wonderful person, kind and caring to all. When crossed, however, she was stern, authoritative. Causing trouble was taboo for the children that lived here because they were afraid of making her angry. You had to remind yourself to speak the elvish language, having not done so in a long while. "I didn't want to."

Ragnheiðr was disappointed. You could hear it in the strict reprimand. "And yet you did. After we took you in. After I convinced all the others that you were not just a means for outsiders to interfere in our business, and raised you as one of my own. For what? To serve a god that is notorious for his lies?"

You didn’t address that, seeing that Heimdall had already depleted the reinforcements waiting outside the hidden gateway and only had a handful of elves left to deal with. If you didn't defuse this quickly he would go for the matron next. You couldn't allow it. As cruel as the elf's perspective was, you couldn't rob elven children of a caring matron. "I just wanted more than…this." You held out your hand, gesturing to the battle raging just feet from you.

"You were selfish," the matron barked.

That made you lose control. You spent a lifetime dedicating your life to a war that wasn't yours, and yet you were the selfish one? "You have no right to say that! Yes, you took care of me, but in return you made me into an asset. I became whatever you wanted me to be, and it was still not enough. Am I so selfish for wanting a life that meant something to me?"

The matron glanced over at Heimdall. Only three of her elves were left, keeping their distance from the god as much as they could. She went back to you, the matron's sadness slowly fading at the ungrateful attitude she was given. "You think your life has any meaning when you are a tool for someone else?"

A valid question, you knew that. Something in you wanted to believe Ragnheiðr, to remember that you were in Asgard because Odin requested your service. In that regard, nothing had changed.

Then you remembered Heimdall's unintentional advice. Your choices were what gave your life meaning, not the people involved in them. The choice to live in Asgard had brought so much more than you ever had. Sif cared about you as a friend. Thor as well. Baldur thought you were fun, there were several servants who referred to you as a friend rather than their superior. Heimdall…you weren't sure how to describe what he thought of you, but you knew he had no reason to use you. He had been one of the best parts of moving to Asgard. "At least there are people in Asgard who care for me as I am, and not for what I can do for them. Unlike any of you!" You shouted. 

Ragnheiðr was taken aback for just a brief moment, pain flashing through her eyes. In seconds her steely exterior returned, this time enforced with malice. "They were right," she hissed. There was hurt buried within, but it didn't match the level of insolence that had been revealed to the matron. "I should have let them kill you."

Your heart dropped. Your blood ran cold. Time ceased. 

The closest thing to family you had…turned on you instantly. 

Did you really mean that little?

Ragnheiðr reeled a sword back and flung a streak of light at you. You instinctively raised a barrier, the beam reflecting off of it and striking the stone Freyr statue behind you. Even though Heimdall was busy he made sure to keep tabs on your conversation (having learned from missing it last time) and knew things were not going to end well. He withdrew his sword from the final elven footsoldier and saw the statue's sword break free and plummet to the ground, point first, just as the enraged matron lunged for you. He didn't hesitate, speeding to you and pulling you out of the way. Ragnheiðr's slash ended where you had just stood, too engrossed in her fury to watch her surroundings. The broken stone sword tip was directly above her.

Before she could move the stone pierced through her torso, impaling her through the back and exiting out her chest to pin her to the ground. You gasped and shook free from Heimdall, taking a few steps closer as the matron dropped her swords and shook as the life left her. The matron may have cast you aside without any consideration, but this elf was still an unforgettable part of you, and an important caretaker for many others. You may not have wanted to see the matron ever again after this, but you didn't want her to die.

The matron's hand rose, reaching for you. "I…never…" That was all Ragnheiðr could wheeze before she went limp.

Heimdall approached you, shaking his head. He caught the matron's final thought but dismissed it immediately. She was the epitome of the nature of man, too self-absorbed and short sighted, and so ready to put their own gain above all else. He was prepared to say that you shouldn't waste your pity.

He didn't. He stopped when he felt it. At the sound of his footsteps your mind went blank. You had shut him out completely.

Once he was at your side you turned away, never showing your face. He said your name to get your attention.

"We should go," you mumbled. "They always prioritize the children's safety first, so we have time before more come after us." Your words were dry, lifeless.

When you turned away and went down the final hallway Heimdall felt it come back. The worry. He still hated it, something in the back of his mind was ready to rant about how it was such a useless emotion. Everything at the forefront, however, didn't care, only watching your back as you refused to let him see what you were thinking, pretending that he wasn't right behind you.

He called out your name again, attempting to bring you out of your shell. He got no response, but even if he did, what would he say? What did he do? The best he could think of was to point out how easily you had been torn down, how poorly you were handling it. Not to bring you down, but because it was frustrating to see the fire in you simmer down into mere ash. 

You reached an elevator, round with a marble floor and gold railing, poised to go up the shaft and into the inner sanctum of the vault. You stepped on first, Heimdall following and pulling the crank to activate it. You were hiding your face, refusing to look at him.

He tried to force it. He moved to catch your eyes so he could see if there was anything he could pick up, but every time you sharply turned away. After the third attempt he felt the anger rising. You'd made so much progress, had started showing the world the parts of you that made you better than everyone else, and now you were throwing that away completely? Over this?

His teeth clenched with mounting irritation. Why couldn't you just let him in? Why did you have to shut him out, prevent him from using the only means of seeing exactly what was holding you down? Why wouldn't you tell him what's wrong so he could say something?

Wait, what?

He shook his head. Did he even have to say anything? Did he need to? 

He felt like he should. 

The mounting questions agitated him even more, so much that they boiled over once the elevator reached the top and came to a stop. "Is this really all it takes? One little slip and suddenly you're pathetically wallowing in self-pity?"

Nothing. Not even a spark of anger like the first time.

He'd had enough when you tried to pass him as he stood next to the break in the lift's railing. He held out an arm to stop you. "Nothing to say?" he snapped.

No.

"Answer me."

Still nothing. No holes in the barrier around your mind, no words to share.

His agitation got the better of him and he lifted a hand to your chin, gripping it and harshly turning your face towards his, determined to claw his way into your thoughts if he had to.

An action he would regret. 

You were weeping. 

Whatever fight was left in Heimdall vanished and the fury in his face was extinguished instantly. He didn't do anything to keep you from tearing your face away and drifted off without a word. No complaints, no retaliation. You just left him behind, doing your best to discreetly rub the tears from your cheeks.

Heimdall cursed under his breath as he watched you go. He despised his thoughts, consumed with the idea that he had wrongly assumed you had fallen apart when you were actually using all your power to hold yourself together. You were strong enough to do that, and he was the one that forgot, not you.

If he thought worry was a terrible thing, it was nothing compared to guilt. The heavy, frigid, piercing guilt that was burying his soul. It had an iron grip on him, like it was trying to tear his heart out.

Never had he felt this. He had been ashamed of his failures in the past, but guilty for what he said to someone? Never.

He said nothing more as you led the way, no other criticism, no attempt at anything else. It was like his tongue had been paralyzed. Once you reached the end of the short hallway, you were in a small room, finely decorated and containing only a few shelves that were dressed up as altars. In the center was a gold tablet with runes carved into it, telling a story about Freyr based on the title. To the left of it, on a wall mounted shelf, was the fragment you were searching for. As you took it down Heimdall sneered at it. There was a symbol of Vanaheim carved into it. Apparently that was enough for the elves to think it held any significance. Lost fools, the lot of them.

As if on cue, there was a ruckus behind you, signaling the coming of more elves. Muninn also had impeccable timing, flying into the window high above your heads. You didn’t acknowledge the bird, still lost in thought. Heimdall looked between the bird and you, knowing this was not an optimal time for a report. He had to do something…

He wasn't sure if he was doing this for Odin or you.

You didn’t hear Heimdall give the raven specific instructions and barely registered the black vortex swallowing you up. Your eyes rose, expecting to see Odin. Instead you were met with the door to his study. Heimdall held up a hand to prevent you from opening it and calmly instructed, "Gather yourself." Never had he sounded so gentle.

You looked up at him, seeing something completely different in his eyes.

Patience.

A portion of your stress was relieved, knowing he was making sure you could get out of this as soon as possible. You took a deep, shaky breath, closing your eyes to focus on the moment. After a few seconds you nodded, indicating that you were steady. 

Heimdall opened the door and Odin greeted you, not mentioning your lack of enthusiasm. There was a part of Heimdall, buried deep in his mind, that was almost…incensed that his superior didn't even notice. His trust in Odin overshadowed it so quickly that he barely even recognized it, like something in him chased it away of its own free will. 

You were dismissed, but Odin requested Heimdall stay to complete an errand before returning to his usual routine. He did not dispute the order, but his eyes did follow your slouched form as you left.

The worry didn't cease.

He'd never rushed through his work. Every task was carried out carefully and efficiently, every time. That day was the very first he would rather check off everything on his list just to say he did it. He wanted to find you, and the need to do so was eating him alive.

The Aesir found you back at your hideaway. A good sign — that meant you weren't avoiding him. You were dejectedly plucking at your lyre. The song was barely recognizable, out of tune and off beat. You were even stopping completely at some points, your head somewhere else. 

Heimdall hid behind the rock he used every time he visited before they were comfortable with each other. He'd been there for several minutes, interrogating himself. What was he doing? Why was he so set on intervening? 

Because you would do the same for him. Because he hated seeing you like this. Because knowing you were so hollow made him ache. Because he wanted to sit and read while you happily played music like you always did. Because he wanted to.

He should have just turned around and left. What was he going to do? Just fix something he couldn't control? What was the point? Surely you would move on eventually. Cheering you up wasn't his problem. 

Yet he stood there, book tucked away in his belt and having no idea what he would do once he revealed himself. In the end he just sighed in frustration. These things were so much easier to deal with when he didn't ask questions. So he stopped. 

Heimdall walked up the rest of the hill, making extra noise so you would know he was coming. You didn’t even look up, unfocused eyes on the empty fire pit in front of you. He just stood next to you for a bit, waiting for you to notice he was even there. You never did. Heimdall sighed and sat down next to you, the creaking of the wood and shifting of the bench finally snapping you out of your thoughts. At long last your eyes met his, and he saw how soulless they felt. So many words popped into his mind but they disappeared as soon as they came, well before they could be said. He was still left clueless and unsure.

You eventually looked away, going back to sloppily playing the lyre. Your mind was still closed, and you offered no words. A sign that you didn't want to talk about anything just yet.

Again, he should have left as soon as he realized he wouldn't get anything out of you.

But he stayed. He just took out his book and started reading until it was dark and you both had to leave. Heimdall offered to call Gulltoppr to take you back to the center of the city. You refused with a silent shake of your head, and he let you go alone.

Your ritual remained, even if it was quieter than usual. You still went to that spot to play music, and he would meet you there with a book in tow. 

Neither of you spoke. Heimdall didn’t gripe about his day, nor did he try to. He simply sat down next to you, never prying, never asking anything. Just there.

You did this for days. The amount of reading Heimdall did decreased with every failed attempt to get you to speak again. Instead he would listen to the broken tunes you played, listening for the times you suddenly stopped and stared into space. Whenever you did, he cleared his throat, shifted, did something discreet that would shake you out of it and get you back to playing, believing that would provide some distraction from whatever was happening inside. Really, he wasn't even there to relax and read anymore. He was just there for you, doing the same thing over and over. Each time Heimdall would come by, sit down by you, pretend to read until it was dark, ask if you wanted to be taken home — which you always refused — and let you leave when you wished.

It was somehow exhausting. His worry kept growing, and his frustration with not knowing how to quell it grew twice as fast. 

Until something changed.

He was at his wits end. Nearly ten days of this and no progress. How could there be when all you two did was sit in silence? The part of him that wanted to give up and go back to his own business was becoming almost too strong to ignore, and he was tired of constantly worrying and wondering what he was supposed to do here. No matter how much he wanted to just stand up and leave like you had never been friends in the first place, he just couldn't do it. Not until he heard you sass him again, until your lyre played the songs he now knew by heart. 

Gods, he wanted to hear you sing.

Then it happened.

"Heimdall?"

He almost jumped. Your voice was so foreign by then that it was almost unrecognizable. But it sounded so wonderful. 

His head turned to acknowledge you with only a raised brow.

"Does it ever get easier?" Your whisper was so small, fragile.

With your mind still hidden from him it took him a moment to consider what you were referring to. Heimdall looked down, unable to say it while watching your expression. "No." 

It was the truth. Even after decades of seeing how conniving and selfish people were, it still irritated him to no end — to see how false they were, how the inside never matched the outside. He raised his eyes to watch your reaction. There was not a glimpse of your mind, but he didn't need his foresight to feel the sorrow and despair that was drowning you. It was gut wrenching to watch, so much so that he spat out the one thing he had disregarded until this point. "If it changes anything…"

Your eyes lifted and he saw the hope in them. He latched onto it like his life depended on it. "The matron's final words that she didn't finish…she wanted to say that she didn't mean any of it."

You blinked at him for a few moments before your gaze fell again, thinking to yourself. Heimdall added, "I'm sure you know what my opinion is about it, but…" he paused, not believing his own words. "Perhaps it helps."

Another change. This one made him sit up straighter, he was so shocked.

Your thoughts. They were still blocked but he felt a tiny sliver of them. You were letting him in, just a little bit. That's how he saw that, for once, you agreed with him. 

The matron's final words didn't mean anything. They didn't line up with her actions, which meant her regrets were a result of distaste for the consequences. They weren't real. 

As much as Heimdall liked to be right and have others know it, the sinking of your spirits robbed him of whatever satisfaction he could have had.

He moved without thinking. Heimdall pushed himself just a little to his left, scooting closer to you. You'd never been this close before, so close that your knees were just barely touching. The contact had more of an effect than he expected, evidenced by the crack in the walls around your mind. You shifted just a little closer, your shoulders now side by side.

For the first time since you had gone silent he felt relieved and at ease.

A couple hours later, once it was around the time you usually went your separate ways, Heimdall followed you to the base of the hill, where he left Gulltoppr to wait for him.

"Need an escort this time?" Heimdall asked, his usual smirk making its first appearance. 

The air in his lungs grew twice as hot when you gave just a hint of a smile and spoke once again. "Maybe. But I feel like walking back." You thanked him and went on your way, wanting to use the time to think. Heimdall should have hopped on Gulltoppr and left you alone. Yet once again, it felt wrong, like he was skipping out on something he needed to do. 

Well, not thinking had gotten him this far. 

You were almost trapped in your own mind again when Gulltoppr lumbered past you, Heimdall absent. You stared, puzzled until Heimdall appeared next to you. His sincere grin nearly made your heart skip a beat. "Gulltoppr isn't required for an escort."

You smiled brightly and looked down, feeling very shy. "The watchman himself degraded by a simple escort? You must really be bored."

There. There it was, that quick wit and sharp tongue that even he had a hard time matching. That flame within you was coming back to life. How he craved its heat.

The following three days were similar, except you let him in just a little more each day. It turned out to be a good exercise for Heimdall, allowing him to practice entering a mind that wasn't wide open for him. He doubted it would be useful in the long run, but it didn't hurt to give it a shot. By the end of the third day he could feel more than you were giving away, which let him know that you were slowly leaving the damage behind. Your music became familiar, the strokes of the lyre's strings and flute's notes more consistent. You exchanged some words, even if they weren't as carefree as they usually were.

Then the fourth day came. 

It was the same as the last few days. You were playing the flute, though still not singing. Your sorrow lingered, leaving you quiet and reluctant to share your thoughts, but not as empty as you had been. You still lacked your usual energy, the spice that made things interesting. Heimdall was reading a book next to you, sitting close enough for your thighs to touch. He was aching to hear you sing, but not willing to soil his pride by asking. Your mind was mostly open, and he had gotten better at clipping its bindings already, which helped him notice that you had something to say. When your song was finished, he said with boredom, "Go on."

Your flute went to your lap and you fiddled with the engravings along the bone structure, nervous. Heimdall could have looked over at you and into your eyes to find out for himself if you gave him enough time to dig in, but instead he chose tolerance. It took a few minutes for you to get it out. "I just…I wanted to thank you."

"For…?" He didn’t look up from the page he was reading.

"For doing this."

Purple eyes lifted to meet yours. You thought he had done something? Despite the fact that he had been sitting there thinking he was wasting time for days? He stretched out the fingers that weren't needed to stabilize his book like he was gesturing to his current position. "I wouldn't say I've done anything."

You shrugged, a small smile appearing while you looked down. "No, but…" you bit your lip timidly, hesitating. "You were here. And that's enough."

That was enough?

That was it? He just had to sit next to you and that was all you wanted from him? All you needed? It wasn't even necessary to say anything, to even try to make any difference? It was that simple?

Of course it was. You'd always been like this.

Your irises rose once more, and while looking into your mind he saw it, clear as day. Yes, that was all you wanted. His presence alone was comforting. His presence was special.

Something stirred his stomach in a way that made him feel…nauseous? No, that's not it, it was too pleasant. 

He ripped his gaze away and firmly planted it on the book, pretending that he thought nothing of your unconscious admission. "I don't see why that means anything. It's not as if I was forced to be here."

"Maybe not, but you could have been anywhere else. I'm sure standing on the wall and looking at whatever is on the other side would be nicer than this." He disagreed entirely. Your music, even if disjointed, was still so soothing. Even if there was no music, he just felt better when he checked on you.

He didn’t need to tell you that, though. You didn't need to know he was doing any of this for anyone other than himself. Putting on the most detached and uninterested tone, he drawled, "Does it matter if—" Then it hit him. Suddenly he was appalled, staring at you like you had sprouted horns. "What?"

You almost cowered at the dramatic reaction. "What?"

"What did you say?"

"That you could have been on the wall?"

"Looking at 'whatever is on the other side?'"

"...yes?"

"You haven't seen the Plains of Ida? After this long in Asgard?"

For a moment you thought he was just being his typical theatrical self, but by the level of offense on his face you could see he was serious. With a sheepish shrug you said, "I've seen it from the realm tower."

Heimdal harshly scoffed, "That's a terrible view, Tyr's worthless temple is in the way."

"Is it really that different?"

Unbelievable. Absolutely unacceptable. The finest scenery in the realm, the splendor of Asgard on full display, and you hadn't seen it? It was a crime to him, that someone like yourself hadn't gotten the full scope of his home's beauty.

Why hadn't he thought of this remedy before?

Heimdall snapped the book shut and stood with an exaggerated sigh. "Well, come on then." He headed down the path without any explanation.

You nearly stumbled trying to catch up while you returned your flute to its pouch and tied it to your belt. "Where are we going?"

"Where else?"

"To the wall? Why?"

You reached the base of the hill, the shadows from the low hanging sun stretching across the grass. Gulltoppr heard the approaching footsteps, stirring from his nap and stretching. "I refuse to associate with someone so uncultured."

You grinned. There was his language, covering up that he just wanted to show you something. It was almost cute how hard he tried to hide it. "Is it really considered 'uncultured?' I haven't seen anyone else casually wander up there to enjoy the view." Given Heimdall's association with the wall, it made sense.

Heimdall ordered Gulltoppr to lie on his belly, low enough for you to easily mount. He hopped on, still fussing. "Only the little people remain ignorant." His hand went down to you.

You took it, simply holding it while you looked up and said, "So you don't think I'm a 'little person?'"

He froze, his hand still closed around yours while he scrambled for an excuse. It was incredibly difficult when you looked at him like that, filled with so much innocent embarrassment. He ended up murmuring, "You wouldn't serve All-Father if you were."

You wanted to point out that plenty of these 'little people' did, in fact, serve Odin, even if in small ways. You chose to keep it to yourself, noticing that he was just a little bashful. He wasn't paying much attention either. When he pulled you up to Gulltoppr’s saddle he placed you in front of him this time, your back flush against him. 

And it was really, really comfortable. You hoped his foresight couldn't tell him that you were blushing.

Heimdall seemed to pause, like he had just registered what he did. He played along, acting like it was intentional. It was only a short ride to the secondary lift, this was fine.

It was fine.

It was not fine.

It was…great.

Your hair brushing his neck in the wind, your hand grasping his wrist to steady yourself when Gulltoppr stepped over uneven ground, feeling you lean back into him for no reason he could pick out. Reading you, seeing the steady climb in your mental state the longer you were against him. 

Why had he never done this before? Why was he so wary when it felt this good?

Gulltoppr's heavy steps ceased in front of the lift. This one was smaller, going straight up the side of the wall. It rested on a wooden platform with a short set of stairs leading to it,  similar to the main lift that connected the wall to the heart of Gladsheim. You eyed the barren structure, thinking it didn't look as sturdy as you would like. "I didn't know this was here."

"Most don't." 

Heimdall let you hop off the gradungr before dismounting, going up the stairs without hesitation. You were still concerned. "Does it still work?"

"You accuse me of neglecting it?" Heimdall turned and placed a shocked hand over his chest, as if he had just heard a drunkard ramble about the most vulgar activities. "If anything falls into disrepair, I make it known and ensure it is resolved."

A tiny laugh, tickled by how prideful he was just for bossing people around. "I hardly say you're avoiding neglect by telling someone else to fix it." Heimdall's smile spread so wide that his cheeks hurt. 

Yes. Yes. The fire burned hotter. You were returning to the goddess you were meant to be.

He regained his composure before his delight could become obvious. You climbed the stairs but had yet to join him on the lift. With raised brows Heimdall asked, "Are you coming? Or did you require a formal invitation?"

You rolled your eyes. "Don't."

It was too late. Heimdall cleared his throat, back straightening into a priggish posture. Loudly and dramatically, so much so that it was clearly satirical, he announced, "The Scion of the Aesir hereby formally invites the goddess before him to board this elevator so that we may finally get on with this!"

Your hand flew to your face in exasperation, sighing at how ridiculous he had to be. "I get it, you can stop now." You pushed past him, your laughter almost as full as it had always been. Heimdall felt a surge of accomplishment course through him at the sound, nearly stunned by it. Now that it had been so long since he heard it, it was so much more fulfilling. He bottled it up and swallowed the excitement, turning the lever that activated the lift, prompting the rickety wood to ascend. Heimdall knew it would take a few minutes and made himself comfortable by leaning against the wooden railing. This lift was smaller than the main one, big enough for only a few people at once. Despite that, you abandoned the space you claimed to join him, standing much closer than you needed to. He had to consciously refrain from looking at you, forcing himself to appear indifferent. 

Wood creaked as the lift came to a halt, much smoother and more stable than you expected, thankfully. Heimdall exited first, leading you onto the cold stone peak of the wall. Never had you feared heights, but not even your ability to conjure valkyrie wings prevented the shiver from running up your spine when you looked down the lift you had just ridden. You scampered away, closing the short distance Heimdall had put between you.

At the edge of the wall there were giant boulders that were carved into more rectangular shapes, like they were bricks that were abandoned when the wall was finished. One laid on its longer side, its width rising high enough to meet the base of you ribcage. Heimdall stopped just shy of this stone and turned to you, nodding his head towards the precipice. You followed his lead, cautious of approaching the edge. It wasn't as if there was any secret as to what was on the other side, or that there was any danger of accidentally falling given the large barriers on this section of the wall. All that caused your hesitation was the anticipation.

With a few more strides your eyes finally met the valley below, growing wide as your jaw dropped. The plains were absolutely gorgeous, littered with a maze of streams and rivers, the rich green landscape having orange highlights and heavy shadows from the sunset. The rainbow bridge, spawning far to the right, glowed a beautiful white with glittering colors, stretching into the clouds and disappearing over the stout mountains in the distance. Unbeknownst to you, Heimdall was pleased by your reaction. You had arrived not too long before nightfall, when you could see the sparkling colors of the light bridge reflecting in the rivers across the plains. He couldn't wait to see your eyes light up at the sight.

"This is…amazing!" You gasped, placing your hands on the stone brick. "You see this every day?"

Heimdall chuckled, joining you in gazing at the beauty of Asgard. "It never gets old," he sighed in wonder, resting his elbows on the stone. For you, it was yet another reminder that Heimdall truly adored his home.

"And you'll let me stay long enough to see the bridge after it gets dark?" You asked, phrasing it as a joke, but you really did hope you were allowed to stay that long. It would likely be about an hour until then.

Heimdall hummed, pretending the answer required serious consideration. "I suppose. It's not every day I permit someone to remain on my wall."

An embarrassing snort left you before you could stop it. "Your wall?"

Purple eyes met yours, standing up straight and smirking like the arrogant man he was. "My wall."

"Isn't it Asgard’s wall?"

"The wall is in Asgard, true." He slowly paced next to you, holding out his arms as you watched him in amusement. "But it is my presence that hangs in the air, the stone worn down by my boots."

Unimpressed, you droned, "Poetic, but not convincing."

Heimdall rejoined you, retaining his earlier position. "I could push you off."

He received a playful glare that he reveled in. "You wouldn't dare. You know I'd take you with me."

Your snickers rang together, dying down and blending into the silence. There was nothing more to say. It was simply two souls admiring the land as it faded into serene darkness, the light of the bifrost bridge showering the field with rainbow specks of light. It was so comfortable, so natural. Heimdall was more content than he had been in…well, he couldn't even remember how long.

Over time he felt things change. Your mind began to wander, returning to the melancholy that had consumed you over the past couple weeks. Heimdall's chest grew tight when he noticed it. He was back to square one, wondering what he was supposed to do with something like this. Yes, you had made it clear that he didn't necessarily need to do anything, but staying idle while you slowly sunk into your gloom did nothing to convince him that was true. It made him feel helpless in a way, and that he despised more than anything. To think, all this was because of that damned elf who was too shortsighted and greedy to see beyond her own needs and wants, too blind to recognize just how remarkable you were.

It inspired a train of thought, one that he voiced before he could bury it. "Don't doubt your value."

You froze, shocked at the statement, but even more so at how soft and sincere his tone was.

"Asgard attracts everyone, but only grants entry to the ones who matter," he continued, eyes refusing to meet yours, lest he start to actually think about what he was saying out loud. "You are one of those it has deemed worthy. You are someone that matters. Don't let another take that away from you."

There. He said it, now it was over. The urge to just turn around and leave was almost impossible to resist. It was so tempting to just walk away and pretend this never happened, avoid you while the memory of this moment faded into oblivion. But no. He wouldn't be a coward about this. He said what needed to be said. The truth was spoken. There was no reason to run away from that.

Even so, his stomach twisted in knots when he felt the elation his words gave you. You were so relieved, so elevated, so overjoyed to hear someone — to hear him say it. He didn't look at you but he could feel your irises staring at his profile with a bright grin. "That…was very sweet, Heimdall." You sensed his sudden discomfort and defaulted to behaviors that he was more familiar with, your smile morphing into a smirk. "I'm not sure if you're just playing with me."

Heimdall finally looked your way, brow furrowing in vexation. He immediately wished he didn't. The endearment in your expression made him tingle. "I always say what I mean, you know that." Try as he might, he couldn't keep it from sounding breathy.

You didn’t miss a beat, though your voice became airy as well. "You do. But you just came out and said it. You didn't say it in your 'special language' this time."

He groaned, ripping his eyes away. "That's because it doesn't exist."

"It certainly does." The giggle that followed seemed to lift a weight off of his shoulders.

"Don't get used to it. I merely said it so you would move on. It'll keep you out of the way in the future." As flat and condescending as it sounded, he truly hoped that wouldn't happen.

You rested your chin on your hand, thinking. "I don't know about that. Now that I've seen how nice it is up here, I might come back sometime. Maybe pay you a visit while you're hard at work."

That sounded…perfect. He wanted you to keep that promise. As a result he couldn't say anything to refute it, or come up with any excuse for rejecting your whims. If he did he would be lying, and you were the last — well, second to last person he would ever lie to. 

So he said nothing.

His lack of response caught your attention. You took on a more carefree spirit, grinning at him while saying, "I think I just figured out another part of your 'language.'" Heimdall huffed, deciding to let you go on about whatever nonsense you were thinking. "You won't lie, but you won't say certain things, so you rephrase them in a way that protects your image."

"Image?"

"However," you continued, ignoring the repulsed interruption. "If you can't rephrase what you want to say to sound more like the jerk you are, you just say nothing."

Ice seeped into his veins.

"Am I right?"

Yes…you were exactly right. He just admitted that internally.

"Which is why you called me uncultured, even though you just brought me here to cheer me up…which worked, by the way."

Nothing.

Quieter this time. "And why you won't say you don't want me to come back here?"

Not a word.

Silence from both of you. You couldn't keep a smile off of your face. Here was this god, so sure of himself, prideful, and brutal in many ways, yet when he had a reason to show even a sliver of kindness he retreated into a flimsy shell, all because he wasn't willing to pretend he didn't actually care. It was, despite how much he would hate the term, adorable. There were these pockets of gold that he had buried deep in his heart, and the more of them you stumbled upon, the more you wanted to free them from their confines. But for once — for the first time — he revealed them first, solely because he didn't want you to be crestfallen any longer.

No one would ever believe it if you said it, but he could be a caring man if he wanted to. And on this night, he wanted to. He wanted to care for you.

You stepped back from the rocks, the course of your thoughts amplifying how touched you were by his efforts. It must have been daunting, even for him, to take that leap of faith and trust you with his care — care that he found no other worthy of — and yet he did it anyway. 

You turned to face him completely. Heimdall eyed you, tentatively mirroring your action. 

Then it happened. He felt it coming. He saw that you were going to do it.

He let it happen.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled yourself close, burying your face in his neck. Heimdall stood there, stiff as stone, arms hanging dumbly at his sides. He didn't move a single muscle. He couldn't even if he tried. All he could do was remain trapped in unseen shackles while you held him. 

It felt…heavenly.

Gods, it was so warm and welcoming, so genuine and gentle, so tender and affectionate. It was so…so…

He couldn't even begin to describe it. The surge of heat through his bones, the electricity barreling over his skin, the rapid beating of his heart. It was so much, so overwhelming. He didn't want it to stop.

"Thank you." That was all you said, dampened by your closeness, but just as sincere. Again, he was left unaware of what he was supposed to do. So he trusted his automatic, thoughtless reaction.

Heimdall's hands raised slowly, stopping a few times on their way up your torso. He hesitated one last time, his hands just inches away from you. His fingers were trembling, completely overtaken by the desire rising in him. He gave in. His hands settled on your back, barely touching you at first. Then something inside him took over, firmly pressing his hands into your clothes, bringing you closer to him.

Why hadn't he done this sooner?

He felt a joy radiate from you, so delighted that he returned the gesture. Whatever leftover sadness you hid was swept away, leaving you to bask in his touch unhindered. You enjoyed this…just as much as he did.

He loved that.

The still air was broken by your tiny voice, just barely above a whisper. "What can I do?" You felt him look down at you a little more, confused. "To thank you."

It felt insane to him. You thought this moment wasn't enough. As much as he didn't want to say it, even to himself, it definitely was.

That wasn't what came out. His next line was completely out of his control. "I don't need anything, Songbird."

There it was again. That one comparison that had now become a nickname. It was unintentional, the possibility never crossing his mind until he said it. Now he wanted to use it all the time.

Maybe he would. A gust of happiness overflowed from your being and through his foresight. You were just as happy with it. 

It also gave you an idea.

You started singing.

How long had it been? It felt like ages. Lifetimes. Your voice was muffled by his chest, but just as rich, just as divine. It was his favorite piece. Truly he liked all of your songs, but this one made him forget the world existed and let him bathe in serenity. He did just that, his neck finally relaxing and letting his nose rest in your hair.

It was there, relishing in your warmth as he held you close, listening to your sweet voice, that he knew. He knew and he accepted.

He didn't just like you.

He wasn't just fond of you.

He wanted you.

The raven departed to return to its master. Huginn had seen enough.

#Heimdall #heimdall gow #heimdall god of war #god of war #songbird of asgard #heimdall x reader

[darknight3904]

𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

A Masterlist containing all my works :)

Click on each individual link to go to each story's respective master list.

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𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔊𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰

ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ

ɪᴛ ʙᴜʀɴꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ - ᴀ ꜱɪx ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ꜱᴘᴀᴄᴇ

ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʀᴇᴠᴇɴɢᴇ

ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟꜱ

🅂🅃🅁🄰🄽🄶🄴🅁 🅃🄷🄸🄽🄶🅂

ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴꜱᴏɴ

ꜱᴏʙᴇʀ (18+) - ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ

#masterlist #loki #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #marvel #thor #thor ragnarok #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #asgard #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #avengers #tom hiddleston #chris hemsworth #owen wilson #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #katniss everdeen #tom blyth #lucy gray baird #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #fanfic #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen

[granddaughterofdemeter]

Granddaughter of Demeter

Im Tali, uh I like writing and love it if people send me requests ❤️

daughter of persephone, kinda scared of my stepdad, Nico is an ok stepbrother, other kids of persephone, u relate or is it just me? 😭

Here i'll tell you whether the requests are open or not ->->->

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN NOW! SORRY FOR MAKING Y'ALL WAIT FOR SO LONG]

IF U SENT SOMETHING TO ME DURING MY CLOSED PERIOD SEND THEM TO ME AGAIN BC I CAN DO IT NOW <3333

You can request anything if you want me to write something.

the fandoms I write for are:

Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Heroes of Olympus

Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard [when I'm done reading at least the first book]

The Hunger Games [ finnick is so fine]

The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

The Maze Runner [same w/ MC, I'll get there tho]

The Invisible Life of Addie La Rue [LUC IS SO HOT UGHH]

Brooklyn nine-nine

Red Queen series

The Secret History [i'm only on pg 200 cut me some slack]

Characters that I write for are:

PJO:

Percy Jackson

Annabeth Chase

Grover Underwood

Leo Valdez

Luke Castellan

Clarisse La Rue

Nico Di Angelo

Will Solace

Jason Grace

Piper Mclean

Frank Zhang

Hazel Levesque

Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano

Rachel Elizabeth Dare

+ the Gods

MCGOA:

soon

THG:

Finnick Odair

Gale Hawthorne

Peeta Mellark

Katniss Everdeen

Johanna Mason

Haymitch Abernathy

Effie Trinket

THG:TBOSAS:

Coriolanus Snow

Lucy Gray Baird

Sejanus Plinth

Clemensia Dovecote

Tigris Snow

Livia Cardew

Treech

Maude Ivory

TMR:

soon

ILOALR

Luc

Addie La Rue

Henry ( i like Luc more so id be a bit biased tho)

B99

Jake Peralta

Amy Santiago

Rosa Diaz

Charles Boyle

Gina Linetti

Raymond Holt [platonic]

Terry Jeffords [platonic]

Adrian Pimento

Red Queen

Maven Calore

Mare Barrow

Shade Barrow

Gisa Barrow

Kilorn Warden

Evangeline Samos

Ptolemy Samos

Cal Calore [same as Henry in lnvisible life of addie la rue]

The Secret History

Richard Papen

Henry Winters

Camilla Macaulay

Charles Macaulay

Francis Abernathy

Bunny Corcoran [i would date him ngl]

I do have some prompts listed below

-Prompt 1: [I deserve better, but I want you]

-Prompt 2: [ I love seeing you in love..." "Does that mean you love me?" "..."]

-Prompt 3: [" Sure, I may only like you because you look like him." "But?" "There's no 'But'" "I'll change that."]

-Prompt 4: ["Life is a bunch of twists and turns, (person of interest???)" "Okay, but why?"]

-more coming 🔜

NO SMUT [implied is ok]

angst is appreciated

step siblings are iffy

no non con or abuse

no domestic violence

I love AUs

i can do female, male, and/or gender neutral reader [any gender basically]

Banners are made by ->->->->->-> @cafekitsune

#walker scobell #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo fandom #pjo tv show #pjo series #percy jackson #annabeth chase #magnus chase #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #magnus chase and the hammer of thor #magnus chase and the ship of the dead #magnus chase and the sword of summer #pjo hoo toa #jason grace #heroes of olympus #the heroes of olympus #the invisible life of addie larue #addie la rue #thg series #thg fanfiction #thg #thg tbosas #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #hunger games #primrose everdeen #the maze runner #the maze agency

[sarahscribbles]

On The Throne

Summary: Yet again Loki has allowed a security council meeting to run late. You decide that, this time, you'll go and help hurry it along.

Genre: Fluff, smut

Loki x f!reader

Word count: 3.8k

Loki Masterlist

One hour.

Two hours.

Three hours.

Three hours.

You slammed the heavy tome in your lap shut with a resounding thump, causing two songbirds resting nearby to startle into flight. The early evening breeze tousled your hair, bringing with it the sweet smell of wild jasmine and magnolia; a scent you would always associate with your wedding and with Loki. 

 He had told you, he had told you multiple times this morning, that his audience with the security council would likely last the entirety of the afternoon and that you shouldn’t expect to see him before sundown, but still you burned with impatience. You were hungry for his company, for the rich, safe sound of his voice and the soft feel of his lips on yours as he kissed you hello. 

You missed him. 

From your perch on the open balcony, you watched the setting sun bathe Asgard in a golden glow, the shimmering city appearing almost iridescent in the evening light. Usually, your husband would be by your side by now, a goblet of rich Asgardian wine in his hand while he kept you abreast of state affairs or told you tales of every inch of Asgard to the Bifrost and beyond. 

This evening, though, you were alone. 

Loki had been King for a few short months, your husband for only a little while longer, but you could count on one hand the number of times he had concluded a security council meeting when he should have. He was close to fanatical about the security of Asgard - why, you weren’t certain - and his meetings tended to run well overtime, no matter how much a singular issue had been discussed. 

Despite the centuries you had been together, you still ached for his presence, for his embrace and his touch, after only a few short hours apart. Centuries behind you and millennia before you, yet you still couldn’t get enough of him. 

You would never get enough of him. 

In your chambers behind you heard the distinctive soft click of the double doors opening, a small, unassuming sound that relaxed your whole body. 

Loki had returned. 

Your ears pricked for the dull thud of his boots against the flagstones and the telltale clink of his golden helmet on mahogany; your body braced for the feel of his strong arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders and his warm, sweet kiss pressing against your temple. You were practically vibrating in anticipation of his touch, counting down the seconds it would take for him to cross the chamber to the open arch of the balcony.

Five…four…three…two…

“Your Majesty?”

Oh. 

Masking the bitter disappointment that had settled quickly over you like a sudden spring storm, you turned in the direction of Åse’s voice. Loki’s return was likely a few hours away yet; he only ever sent Åse when…

“His Majesty has been delayed again, my Queen,” she said, her timid voice drifting softly on the evening air. You still weren’t sure why the girl feared you so. Was it because you were Loki’s wife? “He sent me with -”

“With his apologies, yes,” you interrupted her, moving the heavy volume from your lap to stand. Instantly, you regretted your sharp tone. Åse stood in the wide open arch, nervously twisting her hands in front of her, as though she believed you blamed her for Loki’s delay. “I am not angry at you, child. Don’t fret,” you softened your voice, touching a hand to her burning cheek as you passed by into your chamber. 

Her light footsteps echoed along behind. “Would you like me to bring a message back, my Queen?” she asked, the quiet swish of her skirts filling the silence of the room.

You paused to think for a moment. “Yes, you can tell His Majesty that…” you stopped short, a wicked thought beginning to take shape in your mind. “No, Åse, dear, that’s all. You may retire for the rest of the night. I’ll retrieve His Majesty myself.

oOo

“...we can’t possibly hope to strike a deal with the Vanir before Midwinter. There remains scores of bad blood between their King and my father. If we are to truly try and build a bridge between the realms then a diplomatic envoy will need to be sent from Asgard before Midsummer…”

Loki’s deep, commanding voice drifted from under the heavy oak doors to the throne room into the small antechamber where you lingered impatiently. He had been speaking without pause for ten minutes, providing no opportunity for interruption as he laid out his plans to restore the frosty relations between Asgard and Vanaheim. It had been the biggest thorn in his side for all of his short reign and one that he was decidedly determined to pluck out and flick to the dirt. 

His muffled voice continued to float through the imposing wood, only heightening your impatience with each slowly passing minute. You waited…and waited…and waited, until a natural pause in his monologue gave you the chance to heave open one of the doors to the throne room. They had been built to appear ominous, to deter any trivial interruption into state affairs, but to you they were but a minor obstacle standing between you and your husband, Loki long having told you that no matter of state was more important than you were.

His eyes, cold and stern as they addressed his council, flickered to you the second that you stepped through the doors, filling instantly with open warmth. Holding his gaze you leaned against the cool stone of the wall, folding your arms across your chest and cocking an eyebrow at him. Loki’s lips twitched with the beginnings of a knowing smile and his eyes suddenly twinkled with mischief as he turned back to the men gathered before him. 

“My lords, my Queen commands my attention. We will reconvene momentarily. You are dismissed,” he said firmly. 

You watched amused as the men shuffled out, many of them shooting you looks of pure gratitude for providing respite from Loki’s unending peacebuilding quest. When the doors finally shut with a boom that echoed to every corner of the chamber, you turned your attention back to your husband. He had taken his seat on the throne, Gungnir still held proudly in his hand, his legs parting in a wide, inviting V that pulled you in like a bee to nectar. 

“Reconvening momentarily, are you?” you remarked, the soft click of your slippers echoing around the chamber as you ascended to the throne. “Is three hours not long enough to keep me waiting for your company?” You stopped short of stepping between his splayed legs despite the nearly overwhelming urge. 

Loki leaned forward, resting his hands on your hips and pulling you towards him. A small, startled squeak left your lips as you stumbled, but ended up safely perched on one of his muscular thighs. “Anyone would think I hadn’t ravished you thoroughly last night, my love. You’re becoming quite insatiable,” he teased. 

Easily, you looped your arms around his neck, settling into the familiar comfort that came with being close to him. “Perhaps,” you allowed him. “Although can I be blamed when my husband is so exquisite?” you said, delighting in the faint dusting of pink that crept across his cheeks. Unable to wait any longer, you pressed your lips firmly against his, drinking in the taste of him like he was an oasis that quenched your desperate thirst. His lips parted easily for you and soon the only sound in the chamber was that of your kiss. 

Against your thigh, you felt him begin to grow hard, something that only spurred you on. You broke from his mouth, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses along his sharp jaw and down the exposed expanse of his neck, occasionally nipping him with your teeth to mark him as he had you so many times before. Loki shifted beneath you, the slight rise of his thigh pushing you closer against him, his arms locking tighter around your waist. You could feel every quiet hitch of his breath, and when you twisted a hand into his hair to tug it gently, he shivered.

“Darling, as much as I relish your attentions, I can’t keep the council waiting,” he protested. It was weak resistance, you knew; he was already angling his head to grant you better access to continue marking him. 

“You had no such qualms about leaving me waiting,” you remarked, pushing open the parting of his tunic above his armour to mark his collarbone. 

His fingers were instantly under your chin, tilting your head back to make you look at him. “You’re upset,” he stated, his own distress beginning to swirl in his eyes. 

You entertained letting him believe it, but your inability to ever hurt him ultimately won out. “I’m not,” you assured him, cupping his cheek in your palm for emphasis. “I know this side of being King is unavoidable. You are only doing your duty.” You ghosted your thumb across his cheek. 

“You know there is nowhere in this universe I would rather be than with you, my love,” he replied, leaning in to your touch. 

“I know,” you assured him softly. “Which is why I came to you. I can only imagine how you’re wilting from a lack of my affection,” you teased him, warmth seeping through you at the sight of his smile, the smile that was reserved solely for you. 

Gently, as though he still believed you were made of glass, he brought your hand to his lips to kiss your fingertips. “Like a flower under the hot summer sun,” he answered. 

You adopted a look of serious concern, dusting your thumb over his cheek again. “Well, we can’t have that. Perhaps I can revive you?” You bent in to give him another lingering kiss before easily sliding from this thigh to kneel between his spread legs.

A deep rumble of approval sounded from him, and he leaned forward to grasp your chin between his fingers. “You do look delightful on your knees for me, darling,” he purred. “I only hope you can work fast enough so as not to arouse the suspicions of my council.” 

“Don’t pretend with me, my King. I know how much the thought of an audience excites you,” you shot back instantly.

Loki narrowed his eyes playfully at you. “Little minx,” he said softly, leaning back to raise his hips just enough for you to yank his trousers down this thighs, exposing him full to you. 

His cock stood proudly before you already hard and demanding your attentions. For a moment you did nothing only watch him, letting him wait…and wait…and wait. When his strong brow begin to knit together and his lips began to part, you bent in to apply the barest hint of pressure with your tongue from base to tip, doing nothing but coat him in a thin sheen of your saliva. Loki’s hips rose off the throne in a silent command for more, but you sat back on your heels and peered up at him with feigned innocence. 

His head snapped forward on his shoulders, green eyes glittering darkly with quiet threats when they found yours. “Don’t tease me, my pet,” he said, a faint note of warning creeping into his raspy voice.

“Not even a little bit?” you replied, quickly pressing your lips to his bare thigh, pulling a soft groan from him. You sucked mark after mark into his pale skin, the little patches of red that slowly blossomed underneath sending a jolt of pure power straight to your head. These were your marks, he would be adorned with your marks. 

He was yours. 

High on the feeling of it, you continued to pepper a myriad of further marks across his skin, wanting his entire body to be claimed as yours. The soft little sounds of pleasure that he released above you in an unending stream confirmed just how much he did love to be teased.

“Darling?” he breathed out above you, his voice now beginning to sound strained. 

“Hmm?” you hummed, still not finished with his thighs. 

“Put that wonderful mouth of yours to better use.”

“As you wish, my King,” you said, watching his cock twitch at your words. You sucked a final bruise into the flesh of his thigh and sat back on your heels, taking in the beautiful sight of him hard and ready for you. A small bead of pre cum glistened on his tip, weeping temptingly and making something deep within you twist. You ran your tongue firmly along the underside of his cock and locked your lips around his tip, swirling around him and pumping the rest of him steadily with your hand. 

“Good girl,” Loki said above you, his head tipping back while his hands on the armrests balled into fists. 

You continued to work him towards release, the feeling of his heavy cock on your tongue and the endless stream of his pleasured moans and sighs floating through the air driving you to increase your pace. You flattened your tongue firmly against him, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips as he steadily climbed the edge. 

On the armrest of the throne, his fingers curled and uncurled, his breathing now coming in short, broken pants as he braced for the flood of pleasure. “Fuck, darling…I’m close,” he panted out. “Keep…doing that.”

His pleasure was just within his grasp, dangling enticingly before him. He was seconds away…another few bobs of your head on his cock…

At the last possible second before his climax consumed him, you pulled off him, leaving a wet string of your saliva clinging to his red and angry tip when he fell completely from your mouth. 

Before you could even draw breath his head was snapping upright on his shoulders, emerald eyes staring daggers when they found yours. “I’m…I’m going to trust…that that was an accident,” he panted, his breath still lost to him. 

You gave him an innocent flutter of your eyelashes. “Were you close, my King?” you asked, swallowing a smirk.

“You are playing a dangerous game, my pet,” he said quietly, leaning forward and bunching a hand in your hair to push you back towards his cock.

“And it sounds like you’re rather enjoying it. Perhaps I should drag it out?” you replied, pushing back against the force of his hand, determined that he wouldn’t have any pleasure until you decided. 

“Do that and I’ll put you over my knee,” he said, pressing you more firmly still towards him. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, my love,” 

His weeping tip pressed against your lips demanding entrance, and with his hand firmly twisted in your hair, you had no choice but to part your lips and take him. A contented groan fell from him when you wrapped your lips back around his cock, running your tongue steadily over his head and pulling a sharp hiss of pleasure from him. His hand bunched tighter into your hair to force you to take more of him, his hips beginning to roll evenly to meet every bob of your head. 

The throne room was filled with his soft moans and grunts of pleasure, the noises filling your ears like the sweetest chorus of a melody. A glance up through your lashes saw his head tipped back in ecstasy against the back of his throne, eyes squeezed shut and lips parted to allow your name to fall from them like a prayer from his heart.

He was close. He was so wondrously close.

Moments before he tipped over, you removed your hand from his cock and slowed down your rapid pace until you were doing nothing but running your tongue along his shaft at a slow, tormenting pace, dulling the little waves of pleasure to practically nothing.

His sharp, agonised whine floated through the air as the edge he had been riding once again ebbed away from him. His hips began to frantically roll into your mouth, desperately seeking its warm wetness to tip him over into a blinding release. You allowed him a few frenzied thrusts before pulling off his cock completely, fighting the press of his hand with great effort, and watching his face above you melting instantly from drunken pleasure to disbelieving betrayal. 

“Darling…darling, please,” the plea fell quickly from his parted lips. “Please…please don’t leave me like this,” he continued to beg, his big green eyes filled with need and the earlier firmness of his voice long since gone. 

Wordlessly, you rose to your feet, feeling heat pool between your legs at the look of utter desperation on his face and the silent pleading in his eyes. “Did you really believe I would, my King?” you asked, smirking at him as you began to hike up your gown. 

The desperate look on his face instantly shifted, a knowing smile stretching his lips and mischief starting to twinkle in his emerald eyes. With his assistance you climbed into his lap, a curse slipping from your lips and a hiss from his when you seated yourself fully on his pulsing cock. “I believe you know better, my love,” he said, voice raspy and dripping with arousal. 

With the feeling of his beautiful, thick length buried inside you, the temptation to ride him until you both saw stars was close to overwhelming. You could take your pleasure from him right here, fill the throne room with the sounds of your cries of ecstasy. You could…

No.

The opportunity had presented itself too perfectly tonight, and you had already got this far…

“Mmm,” you hummed in apparent agreement, bending in to kiss his weak spot right below his ear. “You’ve kept me waiting all night, dearest,” you whispered. “If you want that orgasm you’re going to have to get yourself there.” You bit down on his lobe, delighting in the sound of him sucking in a sharp breath. 

His deep laughter shook your body. “You are very demanding tonight, my Queen. I quite enjoy this side of you.” He turned his head to capture your lips again, his kiss near making you dizzy with need. “As you command.” 

His strong hands adjusted you in his lap and slowly, as though he was the one teasing you, he began to roll his hips to thrust his cock into you. You latched your arms around his neck for balance, twisting one hand back into his hair and giving it a sharp tug, making him shudder and momentarily lose his steady rhythm. 

“You know…exactly…what you do to me,” he breathed out, his hands clamping around your hips like a vice.

You answered him with a kiss, deep and long and full of raw posessiveness. 

He was yours. 

One hand slid from your waist to the small of your back to gently press you closer to him, and, steadily, his thrusts became faster, hitting every sweet spot buried within you and making you fight every instinct and primal desire of your body to roll your hips against his. You remained still, clutching his neck and practically drunk on the sight of him edging himself with your cunt.

“Surely…surely you aren’t going to…make me do all the work, darling?” he panted, small beads of sweat beginning to form on his hairline and his cheeks glowing pink. 

You gave him another quick kiss. “Maybe for just a little while longer,” you teased him. 

A mischievous smirk crossed his face. “As you wish, my Queen,” he replied, instantly switching to thrust into you at a punishing pace and unknowingly driving himself towards an orgasm that you weren’t going to let him have. 

His cock was hitting you at just the right speed and just the right angle, pushing you further and further towards your own magnificent release within every upward thrust of his hips. You dug your nails into the back of his neck, peppering little half moons across his skin and desperately attempting to ignore how good he felt filling and stretching you. You clenched hard around him, drawing another strangled whine from the depths of his throat and watching his eyes flutter shut once again. His chest beneath you was heaving, pink lips parted in silent prayer, and his thrusts quickly began more frantic and erratic.

“Fuck,” he cursed again. “Fuck” His teeth were bared, his hips now jerking wildly into you and making your cunt take every inch of him. You could feel him pulsing inside you, so close to painting you with his seed, so close to a shattering release. 

For another second you drank in the sight of him coming undone beneath you. His lips parted in ecstasy, every tendon in his throat stretched taut against his skin, loose strands of hair falling forward to frame his face. He looked so beautiful, so drunk on the pleasure that your body was giving him that you almost felt guilty about what you were about to do.

Almost. 

Slowly, so as not to alert him to any sudden shift, you placed a hand on each armrest of his throne to brace yourself and, at the very last second before he completely unravelled beneath you, you lifted off him, your cunt clenching in protest as his cock was prematurely pulled out of you.

A tortured shout of frustration left him, his hips bucking wildly in a desperate reach for your warmth. “Darling, please!” he begged, leaning forward in a vain attempt to pull you back onto his lap, but you were safely out of his reach. “Please let me finish!” His breathing was coming deep and hard, his chest heaving from how gloriously close he had been. 

You fixed him with a satisfied smirk, feeling your core clench at the sound of his pleading. “Oh, but we can’t leave your council waiting. You said so yourself, my King, and it’s already been close to a half hour,” you said, straightening the skirts of your gown and bending in to give him another blistering kiss. 

When you attempted to pull back Loki’s firm fingers grasped your chin to keep you in place. “Finish what you started, my love, or you won’t be capable of sitting properly for a week,” he threatened you, his pupils still blown wide with desire. 

“Is that a promise?” you replied quickly. 

“Yes.” 

You grinned wickedly at him, pulling from his grip and fighting the shiver that threatened to run through you at his words. “Then, my King, I’m afraid I really must go. I can imagine your council is beginning to grow restless waiting for your summons, though I imagine your meeting will be finishing sooner than you anticipated. I hope you don’t face any hard decisions,” you taunted him.

“Darling, if you leave this chamber…,” he continued to threaten, but you were already halfway down the steps to his elevated dias. 

“I’ll inform them all that you’re ready for them again!” you called over your shoulder, ignoring his words. “I trust I’ll be seeing you soon, my love.” You heaved open the heavy doors again, Loki’s growl of anguished frustration ringing in your ears. 

You gave him thirty minutes.

Tags: @cake-writes @sineads-art @maevetriesart @lovelysizzlingbluebird @drdaddystrange @thedistractedagglomeration @joyful-enchantress @amethyst-dow @sailorholly @hyperfixating-on-loki  @trickster-maiden @high-functioning-lokipath @mochie85 @vickie5446

#loki #loki x reader #loki smut

[best-fictional-band-poll]

THIS IS THE OLD SUBMISSIONS POST. UP TO DATE SUBMISSIONS CAN BE FOUND HERE

Sorted alphabetically by band. Please click through to original post to see full list. IF IT'S NOT ON THE LIST, PLEASE SUBMIT IT. NO BAND IS TOO NICHE. Multiple bands from the same media are permitted.

Putting this under the cut because it's getting too long!

0-9

4*town - Turning Red

A

About Gardens - ROGUEMAKER

The Ark - I Was Born For This

ABXY - Splatoon

Arno van Eyck - Disco Elysium

B

The Band With Rocks In It - Discworld

The Beets - Doug

The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton - The Mountain Goats

The Bettys - Phineas and Ferb

Black Stones (BLAST) - NANA

The Blues Brothers - The Blues Brothers

Bottom Feeders - Splatoon

Boys In The Sink - Veggietales

Boys Who Cry - Spongebob Squarepants

Boyz4Now - Bob's Burgers

Boyz 12 - American Dad

Bunk Bed Junction - No Straight Roads

C

Cheetah Girls - Cheetah Girls

The Clash At Demonhead - Scott Pilgrim 

The Covey - Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Crash & The Boys - Scott Pilgrim

D

Daisy Jones & The Six - Daisy Jones & The Six

Damp Socks - Splatoon

De Bois Band - & Juliet

Deep cut - Splatoon

DETHKLOK - Metalocalypse

Dedf1sh - Splatoon

Decibel Jones and the Absolute Zeros - Space Opera 

Dingoes Ate My Baby - Buffy The Vampire Slayer

DJ Octavio - Splatoon

DJ Stylbator - Samurai Jack

Dr Teeth and The Electric Mayhem - The Muppets 

Drive Shaft - LOST

E

Evar Orbus & The Galactic Jizz-Wailers/The Max Rebo Band - Star Wars

F

Fig and the Cig Figs - Dimension 20 Fantasy High

The Flaming Creatures - Velvet Goldmine

Fran-Shou-Shou - Zombie Land Saga

G

Gallifrey Academy Hot Five - Doctor Who 

Gem & The Scotts - Secret Life SMP

Gillion & The Tidestriders - Just Roll With It

Girls Dead Monster - Angel Beats

Gorillaz - Gorillaz

Grifters Bone - Magnus Archives 

H

Hatsune Miku - Vocaloid

Heaven Seventeen - A Clockwork Orange

The Hectic Glow - The Fault In Our Stars

Hex Girls - Scooby Doo

I

Ink Theory - Splatoon

J

Jem & The Holograms - Jem & The Holograms

Johnny Casino and The Gamblers - Grease

Josie & The Pussycats - Archie (Comic)

The Juicy Fruits - Phantom of the Paradise

Julie and the Phantoms - Julie and the Phantoms

K

Kessoku Band - Bocchi the Rock

Killer Boy Rats - Horrid Henry

The Killjoys - My Chemical Romance

L

Lacus Clyne - Mobile Suit Gundam Seed

Lady Parts - We Are Lady Parts

The Last Days - The Last Days

Lemonade Mouth - Lemonade Mouth

Leningrad Cowboys - Leningrad Cowboys

Lincoln Hawk - Gossip Girl

Little White Lie - Little White Lie

Loded Diper - Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Love Burger - Can't Hardly Wait

Love Händel - Phineas and Ferb

LumberZacks - Milo Murphy's Law 

M

Mad Gear & The Missile Kid - Danger Days, My Chemical Romance

Maxwell Demon & The Venus In Furs - Velvet Goldmine

The Mechanisms - The Mechanisms 

Milkcan - Um Jammer Lammy

The Misfits - Jem & The Holograms

Muppet Orchestra - The Muppets 

N 

Needy Beast - Hatchetfield

O

Octoplush - Splatoon

Old Gods of Asgard - Alan Wake

ok, kids - Andre and Karl

Off The Hook - Splatoon

P

Pink Slip - Freaky Friday

Plasmagica - Show By Rock

Proto Zoa - Zenon Sweep 

R

The Rainbooms - Equestria Girls

The Rats - Velvet Goldmine

RIP - Ruby Gloom

The Risky Fix-Ins - Buzzfeed Unsolved Franchise

The Rutles - All You Need Is Cash

S

Sadie-Killer & The Suspects - Steven Universe

Sadgasm - The Simpsons

SCÄB - Home Movies

Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band - The Beatles

Sev'ral Timez - Gravity Falls

Sex Bob-omb - Scott Pilgrim vs The World

Sing Street - Sing Street 

Soundcheck - Odd Squad

Spinal Tap - This Is Spinal Tap

Squid Sisters - Splatoon

Squid Squad - Splatoon

The Stiff Dylans - Angus, Thongs, and Full Frontal Snogging 

Sunset Curve - Julie and the Phantoms

The Superconducting Supercolliders - Designations Congruent With Things (Pacific Rim fanfiction)

T

The Three Lights - Sailor Moon

Trapnest - NANA

Turquoise October - Splatoon

V

The Vampire Lestat - The Vampire Chronicles

W

Wonderlands x Showtime - Hatsune Miku Colourful Stage/Vocaloid

The Wonders - That Thing You Do

Wyld Stallyns - Bill & Ted franchise

Wet Floor - Splatoon

w-3 (omega-3) - Splatoon

Y

Yoko & the Gold Bazookas - Splatoon

Z

Ziggy Stardust & The Spiders From Mars - David Bowie

#submissions

[tarasmithshifts]

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘

sooooooo NEW YEAR IS HERE!!!

happy new year to everyone here :))) i was planning to publish marauders dr shift update but i didn't finish it LMAO and i need to split it in parts :( but 2023 SUMMARY IS HERE

music, movies, shifting, tv shows, my little progress :)) all here <3

𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓬 ˚୨୧⋆｡

about my spotify wrapped - IT'S FUCKED. okay. totally fucked. i do not agree with it, but still, i'm gonna show you some of it ୨୧

𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘴: pop, rock, indie, classical music and soundtracks

𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳: what was i made for from barbie movie by billie eilish ୨୧

𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳: billie eilish (as year before, and a year before, and year before lmao)

𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴:

billie eilish

elvis presley

hans zimmer

lana del rey

lenny kravitz

but i'd like to add here david bowie, FRANK SINATRA, florence + the machine, tate mcrae, aurora, conan grey etc. etc. :)

𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

it's literally a playlist for my silly daydreamings LMAO

a lot of things that i scripted came to me when i listened to my playlists :)) so here they are:

𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘴

ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀᴇ, ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ - the ballad of songbirds and snakes dr

ɪꜰ ᴡᴇ ʙᴜʀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴜʀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴜꜱ - the hunger games dr

ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴠᴇʟᴠᴇᴛ - marauders dr

⤷ 'ᴍʏ ᴍᴜᴍ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀɴ ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀ ꜱɪɴɢᴇʀ, ʏᴀ ᴋɴᴏᴡ?' - hope lupin playlist

⤷ “ɪ ꜱᴏʟᴇᴍɴʟʏ ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ.” - azrael mixtape

ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ - twilight dr

ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ'ꜱ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ. - hannibal dr

ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴅᴜᴇᴛ ᴠᴏʟ １ - orchestra conductor dr

ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴅᴜᴇᴛ ᴠᴏʟ 2 - orchestra conductor dr

ʜᴀꜱᴛᴀ ʟᴀ ᴠɪꜱᴛᴀ ʙᴀʙʏ - 90s fame dr

ɪ ᴄᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀᴍᴇʟᴏɴ - dirty dancing dr

ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟ - moon knight dr

ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ɢᴏᴅ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ - asgard dr

𝓶𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓼 & 𝓽𝓿 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝔀𝓼 ˚୨୧⋆｡

𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 2023

oppenheimer ☆☆☆☆☆

asteroid city ☆☆☆☆ and a half

spiderman: across the spider verse ☆☆☆☆☆

wonka ☆☆☆☆

guardians of the galaxy vol.3 ☆☆☆☆☆

𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘷 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘧 2023

good omens season 2

our flag means death s1 & 2

i watched hannibal this year!

ashoka

daisy jones and the six

𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓯𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 ˚୨୧⋆｡

I HAD A HUGEEEEEEEE PROGRESS IN 2023 AND I'M SO HAPPY BECAUSE OF THAT

like, i shifted 4 TIMES.

FOUR.

at the beggining of the year to my asgard dr (WHICH WAS CRAZY I WANT TO COME BACK THERE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE)

during summer break to my twilight dr, but it wasn't long shift. i shifted only for month :(

in october i finally shifted to my fame dr

and in december to my marauders dr for WHOLE 2 YEARS

it's the craziest thing ever that could EVER happen to me :))

i'm so proud of myself, i created new drs, and started this blog!

new drs:

the ballad of songbirds and snakes dr

dirty dancing dr

the matrix dr

the last of us dr

hannibal dr

i make those new drs like i'm crazy LMAO i need to stop making drs for now, because i have A LOT of them, i will probably give up of some of them, but only like, one or two. i love all of my drs, i literally don't want to decide (and i probably won't do that)

ANOTHER YEAR ANOTHER SHIFTING GOALS <3

𝘮𝘺 2024 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘢𝘭𝘴:

i wanna shift to my asgard dr again!

i want to finish this GODDAMN MARAUDERS DR UPDATE

i want to shift to my twilight dr <3 especially during the beggining of spring!!!

and i will make descriptions to all my drs that are in my masterlist!

i want to tell you a big THANK YOU<333

For now, it's 68 of us here, WHICH IS ACTUALLY INSANE FOR ME

i will start making some tips that helped me shift<33 REMEMBER THAT YOU CAN SHIFT TOO!!!

again, i wish you happy new year!!!!!

(2023 wa so shitty for me, hope 2024 will be better lmao)

#Spotify #shifting community #shifters #shifting #shiftblr #reality shift #shiftythrifting #reality shifting #shifttok

[meowmeow-motherfucker]

Covenant- Chapter 5

Summary: With the five year anniversary of the attack on New York approaching, Odin and Fury come to the agreement that an arranged marriage between Asgard and Earth would show good faith toward all future interactions. When Odin refuses Jane’s candidacy, Agent Coulson is tasked with finding a suitable wife for the prince of Asgard.

Pairing: Loki x OFC

Warnings: pot smoking, fluff, more fluff, flirting, pining, Asgardian pearl-clutching, more wedding prep and princess lessons, mentions of archaic wedding traditions

Taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtiggerv2 @icytrickster17 @mysteriouslyfriedjellyfish @lokislilkitten @justjoanne242 @amlocked @ddmariegirl @mags-04-blog @sharris8 @meepycheep @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @the-fantasy-loving-angel @jaidenhawke @smolvenger

Back at it again after a break. Thanks as always for coming along on the journey!

Two weeks until the wedding

“Good morning, dear!” Frigga chirped as Claire stepped into the sitting room. It was early morning, the suns rays already casting golden beams on the walls. Outside on the balcony, a songbird praised the sun, its harmonious song adding a cheerful melody to the morning.

“Good morning,” Claire replied, remembering too late she was supposed to curtsy. Behind Frigga, Loki snickered as she gave an awkward bob. Claire glared at him over Frigga’s shoulder, and he grinned.

She looked beautiful today. Her official wardrobe had been completed, and today she wore the first of the dresses in her official court color. The lush fabric lapped at her ankles as she walked toward him, the full skirt accentuating the curves of her waist. The high-necked bodice had no sleeves, her bare arms protected from the early morning chill by a matching stole. Loki spied the ever-present silver band around her bicep.

She looked as though she belonged.

~~~~

The marketplace was busy as usual, crowded with throngs of people scurrying about. The crowd parted as they walked, bowing low to the prince and future princess, as well as the queen walking behind them with her attendants.

“This is so surreal,” Claire giggled, wiping a hand over her face. “We just met two weeks ago and here we are, on our way to pick out wedding rings,” she looked up at him with a shy smile. “If this was happening on Earth, we would have been on hundreds of dates by now.”

“Hundreds?” Loki chuckled. “Exactly what does one do on hundreds of dates?”

“All kinds of things,” Claire replied wistfully. “Skip school to go to the mall, arcade dates, spend the day at Santa Monica pier…”

“What is the mall?”

“Remember what I told you about a lot of stores being separate?”

“Of course.”

“A mall is the opposite. It’s a big building with lots of stores inside.”

“This all seems rather...muddled. Some are together, some are separate...what is the purpose of that?” Loki asked. “What is an arcade date? And this Santa Monica pier?”

“The pier is like the ones here, but instead of docking for boats, the Santa Monica pier has shops and restaurants. There’s a really nice Ferris wheel too. I had my first kiss at the top of that Ferris wheel.” Claire smiled fondly at the memory.

“Sounds dreadfully romantic.”

“It was,” Claire sighed. “It was sunset, the ocean was all sparkly...it seems like a lifetime ago.” she chuckled.

“And which of those was your favorite?” Loki asked.

“Honestly, all of them were nice, but the ones I liked the most were the simple ones. My boyfriend and I used to go to the drive-in on the weekends and hold hands. We didn’t have to talk, it was just nice to be together, you know?”

“I can’t say that I do,” Loki replied somberly, dropping his gaze from her lips. The berry shade she’d chosen to wear today was enchanting. “What was his name?”

“Mateo,” Claire said fondly. “God, I haven’t seen him in...twenty years?” she laughed.

“Not much time for romance while working for S.H.I.E.L.D., I imagine.”

“God, no!” Claire laughed loudly. “Not that I was particularly interested, but everyone gets lonely and a girl has needs.”

“Is that so?” Loki asked with interest. Claire’s eyes darted down to his mouth when he licked his lips. “Do tell.”

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” Claire turned away, a secretive smile tugging at her lips. “You’ll find out eventually anyway.”

“I think you’ll find I can be rather persuasive.” a flash of green pulled her attention back to him, drawing her eyes to the flower he’d manifested in his outstretched hand.

“Isn’t it better to learn from a source that hasn’t been persuaded?” Claire asked as they reached the jeweler’s storefront. Loki graced her with a smile, the flower disappearing.

“Indeed,” he opened the door and gestured for her to step inside. “My lady.”

Inside the store, they were guided to plush chairs and the owner presented tray after tray of rings for them to choose from. Loki and Claire sat side by side, Frigga and her attendants sat behind them offering commentary on the selection.

Many of the rings Claire was shown were too feminine for her taste, or were gaudy or just plain ugly. All of the offerings were gold with green stones, of course, to match Loki’s colors.

Claire felt annoyed that her ring had to be yet another reminder she was signing her life away, but pushed it aside and focused on finding a ring she liked. There were several that were beautiful of course, made with actual gold and sizable emeralds in impressive settings, but Claire had never been one for flashy jewelry. She would wear this ring for the rest of her life- it had to be right.

The owner brought out another tray, this time with less flashy offerings.

“Perhaps Her Majesty will like these better?” the owner said as he placed te tray in front of her. Claire felt an odd twinge as she realized he was talking about her- she still wasn’t used to people treating her special and that title-

“These are different,” Claire replied as she gazed at the tray. The stones were still green, but they were not emeralds. Opaque white stones with delicate tendrils of deep green sat in luxurious settings of gold, some clustered with smaller round diamonds, some with delicate looking details that seemed so fragile they would unravel if you touched them. “Is this moss agate?”

“Excellent eye, madam,” the owner smiled proudly. “My apprentice wished to make some offerings as well- he is not yet skilled enough to work with finer gems, but as nothing has caught your eye yet, I thought…” Claire spied a ring with a large oval cut central stone, flanked by crescent moons and smaller, teardrop shaped ingots of moss agate.

“This is beautiful,” she murmured, lifting it from the tray to inspect it more closely. “What do you think?” she asked Loki.

“Your opinion matters more than mine; you’re the one who will wear it,” Loki replied, but he leaned closer to inspect it nonetheless. “It is lovely.”

“There is another band that my apprentice designed to go with it,” the owner held up a second gold band, this one in a sloping shape to accentuate the first band. The band was decorated along the bottom, with a triquetra in the center and triple moons on each side. The center of the triquetra and the full moons were set with small diamonds, crescent moons solid gold, and tiny emeralds sat within the corner loops of the triquetra. Claire pressed the two bands together on her finger, her heart fluttering at the sight of them. They were absolutely gorgeous. “The knot in the center is not as popular in our culture, but the triquetra represents-”

“Past, present, and future,” Claire smiled at the ring on her hand. Claire had long been a believer that the universe would sends signs if one was simply willing to see them- she felt it was no coincidence that she was presented a wedding ring with the trinity knot on it. Whatever her misgivings about how she got here, this felt like a sign that she was in the right place. “I love it.”

“Is this the one?” Loki asked from beside her. Claire nodded, confident in her choice.

“Yep, this is it.”

“Excellent choice, Your Majesty,” the owner bowed respectfully. He whisked the rings away, Claire’s selection set aside for safekeeping. He returned with a tray of rings for Loki to choose from. Loki was not much for jewelry either, but one of them stood out as a clear match for the ring Claire had chosen.

It was a smooth, thick gold band with a thin seam of moss agate running through the center.

“What do you think?” he asked, offering it to Claire for her appraisal.

“It’s beautiful work,” Claire said, inspecting the ring from all angles. “And it would match mine. It suits you.”

“I like it,” Loki agreed, setting the ring aside on the tray. “This one.”

“Excellent choice, Your Majesty,” the owner said. “We shall have both rings ready in two days’ time.”

“Wonderful,” Frigga said from behind them. “I think it is time for some lunch before our afternoon outing.”

Lunch took place two streets away in an elegant restaurant that made Claire feel out of place. She looked the part, sure, but she still felt like Oliver Twist in a room full of rich people.

“Claire?” she felt the feather-light touch Loki’s hand at her lower back and she looked over to see him looking at her with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Sorry, things just got real,” Claire laughed nervously. “I'm feeling really nervous now.”

“Here,” Loki guided her to a seat, taking the space beside her. “What troubles you?”

“I was just thinking about the-” Claire grimaced, shrinking in on herself. “The wedding night.”

“Oh! I would never force myself on you,” Loki swore, pulling away from her. “You have my word.”

“No, no, that's- that’s not what I'm worried about, I don't feel threatened by you,” Claire said hurriedly, keeping him close with a hand on his arm. “I just remembered that the original plan was for us to-”

“Ah, yes,” Loki ducked his head, a frown marring his handsome features. “The lovely tradition of having witnesses for the consummation is both ancient and disturbing.”

“Yeah,” Claire gave a relieved sigh. “I rejected that part of the treaty real quick.”

“As did I,” Loki replied. “Not that I'm particularly shy, but whenever my mother talked about it I could tell it had bothered her to go through it and I didn’t wish to put you through that.” Their conversation was interrupted as their party was directed to their table. Claire and Loki were seated beside each other, with Frigga on Loki’s other side and the crones opposite them. As they were perusing the menus, Claire leaned over to keep talking to Loki.

“You talked to your mom about sex?”

“I was an inquisitive child!” Loki said defensively. “I also had a very negative outlook on marriage and thought it stupid. Still do,” He admitted, shaking his head. “But she was determined that Thor and I both learned the traditions and all of it, as someday we would have to go through it.” They were interrupted again as a server arrived to take their orders.

“Well that's cool. And for what it's worth, I also think marriage is stupid.”

“Yet here you are.”

“Here I am,” Claire replied. “Though I will admit I am feeling more...optimistic about it.” she smiled warmly as their food arrived, and their private conversation ended as they were roped into conversing with the crones.

~~~~

Frigga’s afternoon outing was a play- a retelling of an ancient tale of love and war. Claire read over the playbill with a mix of excitement and dread. She enjoyed theater, she supposed, in a general sense (S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t give much time off for attending plays) but she didn’t know what to expect from this. She’d come to learn that the Asgardians LOVED telling exaggerated tales of war and men occasionally would write poems for women they wanted to court. Claire was just thankful Loki hadn’t accosted her with a shitty poem- it would have been too difficult not to laugh in his face.

She liked his face, but romantic gestures were pushing it- devastating jawline or not. The thought of being surrounded by the vulturous young ladies of the court, all of them gawking at her while Loki botched iambic pentameter made her want to vomit.

She was grateful that she’d been seated next to Loki for the play though. It made it easier to have private conversation with him.

“Hey, thanks for refusing the consummation thing. It would have been difficult to pretend that I'm innocent.” she whispered.

“Are you not a good actress?” Loki whispered back with a hint of disappointment. “What a pity. I'd thought all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents were professionals.”

“Oh no, I'm very good,” Claire grinned wolfishly. “Just not that good.”

“If there is anything I can do to perhaps...make things easier for you-” Claire snorted, the sound decidedly unladylike.

“I’m not worried,” she smacked his arm with the back of her hand. “I just didn’t want an audience.”

“I see,” Loki paused before leaning closer. “Circumstances being what they are...we will still need to put on a bit of a show.” the low timbre of his voice gave her goosebumps, and Claire shifted in her seat.

“I know, your mom told me,” she murmured back. “I think it's dumb, but apparently putting a couple drops of blood on bed sheets is easier than accepting I'm a sexually liberated woman.”

“Liberated?” Loki parroted.

“Oh yes,” Claire grinned. “I do what I want, when I want. Or I guess more accurately, who.”

“A trait I can admire,” Loki replied with a smirk. “And does my oafish brother make the list? Were you disappointed-”

“Oh no, Thor is nowhere near the list,” Claire pulled a face, shaking her head in disgust. “You are, though.” she winked at him, meeting his gaze boldly as the lights dimmed. Loki's mind went blank, his brows furrowed as her words sank in. It was an unusual thing, to be desired so openly. He was not a stranger to being desired- as a prince, second or not, he was a desirable bedfellow- but more often that not, it was his status and what it afforded them that people were after, not him. His past trysts had been secluded in shadow, for his admirers never shared their affection once the sun rose. All the same, he’d accepted their suits; after all, he was a hedonist by nature and not one to turn away from pleasure.

There was something novel about this odd woman. The labyrinthine societal rules kept most wrapped in layers of deceit like fabric, suffocating any truth before it could fall from their lips. But not Claire- she had not yet been indoctrinated by the ridiculous rules of court, and not once had he sensed that she was lying to him. It was refreshing indeed, and Loki appreciated it more than he could say.

Loki clasped Claire’s hand in his own in the darkness, unwilling to give voice to such vulnerability. Claire settled her other hand on his arm, leaning into his side as the lush red curtain was raised. Rapt silence fell over the room as the play began, and Loki whiled away the first act tracing his thumb over the empty spot on her hand that her ring would soon occupy.

13 days until the wedding

Loki was lost in thought as he walked around the palace. It was now less than two weeks before he would wed, and although his future wife was an intriguing puzzle he longed to unravel, Loki still felt less than giddy about the event. Servants bowed to him respectfully but gave him a wide berth, afraid and unwilling to anger the dark prince. Loki was used to such treatment even before his incursions on Midgard, but he supposed his dark mood did nothing to dampen their fear of him.

He found himself in his mother’s garden, the tall flowers swaying soothingly in the breeze. Some of the flowers in the center of the garden were moving oddly, wiggling rapidly and disturbing the surrounding flowers. Loki ducked under the thick branches to investigate, picking his way to the center of the flower bed.

He found his future wife sitting on the ground, legs crossed in front of her. She had an array of things spread in the dirt in front of her, and she was smoking.

“Uh…hi,” Claire said, exhaling pungent smoke into the space between them. “What’s up?” Confused by her question, Loki looked overhead only to see the canopy of flowers with specks of bright blue sky peeking through.

“The sky?” he wagered. Claire laughed as he sat down in the dirt opposite her. Her shawl lay on the ground beside her, a soft blue that heralded her as a favorite of his mother. The silver band on her bicep matched the soft gray of her dress, sparkling sporadically as the flowers above them danced in the breeze and the sunlight shone through in minuscule rays.

His future wife was rather beautiful, Loki was man enough to admit it. Today her lips were tinted a dark grey which complimented the soft hue of her gown. She was slender in frame but well built from years of working for S.H.I.E.L.D.. In the short time he had known her, Loki had learned she was fierce with her words and her wit. She was shorter than him, but most everyone was. Her unbound hair hung down to her breasts, the thick chocolatey tresses practically concealing them from his gaze. Her eyes intrigued him- she was so young compared to him, but her eyes had seen much. The rich dark blue shade of them made Loki think of the sea, and sapphires. And she was…she was talking to him.

“What?” he asked stupidly. Like a fool, he’d been caught up in being able to actually look at her. They had spent time together of course, but always, always under supervision.

“I asked if you wanted a hit,” Claire repeated, holding out her cigarette to him. It wasn’t like any he’d seen before- the smell wasn’t as offensive and it was clearly hand-rolled in white paper. “It’s good stuff.”

“Is it tobacco?” Loki asked.

“No way, that stuff is nasty,” Claire replied, her nose scrunching adorably in disgust. “It’s pot.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Loki replied, accepting the cigarette and giving it a sniff. “It’s not as offensive as tobacco.”

“You guys don’t have weed here?” Claire asked in astonishment. “Damn, I’ll have to add it to my list of stuff I want brought here.”

“What is it?” Loki asked.

“It’s a plant. There’s different strains and they have different effects, but this is called Granddaddy Purple. It’s to help you relax.”

“Why are you smoking to relax?” Loki asked, even as he smoked from the cigarette. The smoke had a pleasant burn and a pungent aroma.

“Gee, I don’t know, probably because I signed my entire life away,” Claire replied sarcastically, giving him a judgmental stare when Loki choked on the smoke and started to cough. “Dude, don’t- hold it in for a second- wow, you suck at this.” she snickered.

“Believe it or not, I’ve never done this before.” Loki passed the cigarette back to her.

“You’ve never done drugs? Like, at all?” Claire balked, holding the smoke in her lung before exhaling toward the flower canopy. “But you’re- you’re old! You probably witnessed the big bang!”

“That was before my time, actually,” Loki laughed, his mind starting to feel a little hazy. “You’re upset.”

“You bet your ass I’m upset,” Claire’s nose wrinkled as she exhaled sharply. “No offense. It’s not you, it’s them. The crones.”

“I take it lessons are not going well?”

“I mean…” Claire shrugged. “They’re okay, if you like being corrected constantly. Everything I do is wrong, apparently, and I’m hopeless.”

“I’m sure you’re doing fine.”

“I’m really not. Ask your mom,” Claire sighed. “Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if they sent me home, the way they were talking.”

“You think they would?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t know whether I want them to send me back or keep me here. There’s a lot of variables.”

“I understand. I have...reservations as well.”

“Are we stupid for doing this?” Claire asked, exhaling slowly into the air between them.

“What?”

“I don’t know, sometimes quitting is the best solution to a problem.”

“You wish to leave?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Claire admitted. “I left everything behind to come here. What exactly am I getting out of this?” Loki began to count on his fingers.

“A considerably longer lifespan, immeasurable wealth and respect-”

“More like loneliness and a gilded cage.” Claire muttered.

“-Stability,” Loki countered. “Can I try that again?”

“Please,” Claire scoffed as she passed him the roach. “I’ve never been stable a day in my life.”

“An auspicious match, then,” Loki chuckled, taking a deep hit from the blunt. “Neither have I. At least, not that I remember,” He took another hit before passing it back to her, relaxing back into the grass beneath them. Loki took stock of himself, and he was starting to feel…something. “It takes a moment, doesn’t it?”

“Isn’t it nice?” Claire gave a dreamy sigh as she laid down beside him. “If you want it to hit faster, hold it in your lungs for a few seconds before you exhale,” she coached, giggling when Loki started coughing again. “Coughing also helps.”

“Does it?” Loki managed weakly.

“Oh yeah, it does,” Claire giggled. “It makes me feel all tingly and disconnected.”

“Doesn’t it make you feel…vulnerable?” He glanced over at her.

“I guess so, yeah,” Claire shrugged. “But it’s nice to escape reality for a while.”

“Do all Midgardians smoke this? What did you call it, grandfather purple?”

“Granddaddy,” Claire corrected with a laugh. “And no, not all of us Earthlings smoke the ganja. But there are lots of uses for it.”

“Like what?” Loki asked.

“Like I said, there are different strains for different things. You can smoke it, cook or bake with it, use the fibers to make clothing…this stuff though- it’s mostly for relaxing, but it also makes colors richer, food taste better…sex feel better,” Claire sighed wistfully. Loki looked surprised by her answer. “What?”

“I have never heard a woman speak so freely about such things.” Loki seemed genuinely scandalized by the idea.

“Dude, you’re cute, but you need to loosen up,” Claire cackled, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him. “It’s the 21st century, lots of women have recreational sex.”

“I am not cute,” Loki scoffed, his face scrunching with disgust as he said the word. “I am a god.”

“Yeah, y’are,” Claire said flirtatiously, short bursts of smoke escaping her nose as she giggled. “Maybe cute isn’t the most accurate word, but I stand by it.” Loki thought she looked enchanting, mirthful and sun-dappled beneath the flowers, and the now-familiar churning in his belly returned with a vengeance.

“I will never mistreat you,” he pledged, his eyes never leaving the golden shimmer the sun revealed in her lip polish. “You have my word.”

“I know.” Claire grinned at him.

“Do you?” Loki laughed.

“I fascinate you,” Claire shrugged, offering him another hit from the roach. Loki took it, enjoying the burn and the fuzzy feeling behind his eyes. “That and you think I’m pretty.” Loki snorted, a puff of smoke escaping his nostrils as he glanced over at her with pinkened cheeks.

“A bit of both.” he admitted.

“I knew it.” Claire said smugly.

“You are so self-assured!” Loki crowed indignantly.

“Well I was right, wasn’t I?”

“You were,” Loki agreed softly, turning on his side to stare at her fondly before seeming to come back to himself. “I should go,” he said suddenly, getting up from the grass. He made a show of brushing dirt off of his leathers to hide the flush taking over his face. He’d become overwhelmed with desire to kiss her, and now he was running like a coward. “We’re not supposed to be alone.”

“Right,” Claire rolled her eyes, inhaling from the roach again. “Propriety and whatnot.”

“Oh, she does have sense,” Loki replied sarcastically. “I’d like to leave our reputations intact, if at all possible.”

“Why do you care so much what people think of you?” Claire asked. “We’re getting married in less than two weeks regardless, so who gives a shit?”

“I do,” Loki dusted off his pants. Claire sat back and watched the show, enjoying the way the fabric clung to the muscle of his thighs. “Unless of course you decide to leave.”

“We’re still good, right?” Claire asked, looking him up and down. “Or did I cross a boundary?”

“We are fine,” Loki said shortly. “What was the percentage you gave us the other day?” Claire grinned, exhaling smoke through her nose.

“I predicted a respectable seventy percent, but it’s up to eighty-five now that we’ve smoked pot together.”

“I barely smoked any,” Loki argued weakly. Claire laughed loudly. “Perhaps another time I can try more.”

“Alright, it’s a date,” Claire smiled. “I’ll put in an intergalactic order for more kinds,” she snickered at her joke, which Loki didn’t understand. “Hey, don’t tell anyone where I am, okay? I honestly can’t handle any more princess lessons today.”

“It will be our secret.”

“Awesome,” Claire sighed, relaxing back into the soothing embrace of the grass. “I like secrets.”

~~~~

When Claire eventually emerged from the garden, she had just enough time to meet Frigga for tea. Claire liked the queen, but she was nervous about meeting with her, especially having cut out of princess lessons early that day. Believe it or not, Claire did not find needlepoint compelling. Her knowledge with ropes and knot-tying didn’t exactly translate, and Claire would rather stab her tutor with the needle than use it to make delicate flowers with thread.

Frigga looked radiant as always when Claire arrived. Claire had a passing hope that she didn’t smell like pot as she sat down to tea with her future mother-in-law.

“Hello dear,” Frigga greeted her with a warm smile. She got to her feet and gathered Claire in a warm hug, which never failed to prick at Claire’s heartstrings. “You look well. How are your lessons going?”

“They’re okay.” Claire offered with a shrug. Frigga picked up the tea pot to begin pouring tea.

“Are you certain?” Frigga asked knowingly as she poured Claire a cup of steaming hot tea. “Your tutors are of a different mind, especially your needlepoint instructor.” Shit.

“I mean...I’m definitely struggling. For all my skills, I can’t seem to do anything right here. It’s frustrating.”

“Every new venture is a challenge,” Frigga replied smoothly as she poured her own tea. “I too felt out of sorts when I first came to Asgard.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes,” Frigga smiled fondly at the memory. “Odin and I were betrothed from a very young age, and although I spent most of my youth preparing to take my place as his wife, preparing and doing were very different things. It is understandable that you should feel upset or overwhelmed.”

“I definitely feel overwhelmed,” Claire agreed. “There’s so much for me to learn, and just when I think I have a grip on things, something else gets added. And it’s also very frustrating that ever since I came here, I’m basically viewed for nothing more than my reproductive potential. I have so much more to offer than that and I feel like no one cares.”

“Childbearing is an integral part of our society, Lady Claire. All women have talents, this is true, but through our children our people survive. The children you have with Loki will ensure the alliance between Asgard and Midgard will endure for centuries to come.”

“But isn’t that degrading?” Claire asked sharply. “Not every woman wants to have children. Shouldn’t they be allowed to choose for themselves?”

“Perhaps, but that is not the issue at hand. You do not have the luxury of choosing, dear. You made your choice when you agreed to come here.” Frigga said gently.

“Well maybe I’m having second thoughts,” Claire set her cup down with more force than she meant to, the loud clink drawing a pointed look from Frigga. “This is not what I had in mind.”

“Is leaving truly what you wish?” Frigga asked. She could tell the young woman was discouraged, but much was at risk if she backed out of the treaty.

“I don’t know,” Claire spun her empty tea cup in its saucer instead of meeting the queen’s eyes. “I’m not sure I’m the right person for this. It seems like no matter what I do, it’s not enough.”

“I appreciate this is a tremendous undertaking for you,” Frigga replied gently. “What young women learn over the course of years, you must learn in weeks. I can also appreciate that my son is not the easiest young man to get along with.”

“Right,” Claire grimaced. Frigga knew about their spats; practically everyone in the palace did. “Maybe it would be best if I left.”

“Do you know what happens if you do?”

“I know this is to form an alliance, but Asgard and Earth aren’t on bad terms. There’s no threat of war.”

“There is not, that is correct. There is however, significant threat to Loki. Should this alliance fail, he will be returned to his cell in the dungeons.”

“I thought that was only if it failed after we married.”

“I’m afraid not, dear. I have tried to change the king’s mind, but he will not be swayed.” Frigga pursed her lips behind her tea cup.

“But-” That’s not fair. Why does Odin have it out for Loki? “This isn’t right.”

“No, it is not. One of the hardest aspects of being royalty is that we often must swallow knives to make peace.”

“So if I leave- even if Odin himself says I won’t cut it- Loki goes back?”

“Indeed,” Frigga replied, a sour look upon her face. “I’m sure I don’t need to impress upon you how vital it is that you and this marriage succeed,” she grabbed Claire’s hands in her own. “I am sorry to burden you with such responsibility. But I fear you are the only means I have to save my son,” Claire swallowed nervously. “I would beg you to reconsider. Please.”

Twelve days until the wedding

Claire struggled to sleep the night before, still trying to figure out why Odin was so dead-set on Loki going back to jail. Hadn’t he served enough time?

She wasn’t sure if five years equaled eighty deaths, but it definitely was unfair to release someone from prison only to throw them back in. Somehow Claire doubted whether Asgardian law had the concept of double jeopardy on the books.

After tossing and turning for hours, Claire had examined and re-examined the problem from every possible angle. She’d finally come to a solution- the only solution that didn’t leave her in an ethical quagmire and Loki in a jail cell.

She was going to stay.

Somehow, she would successfully finish her princess lessons and shove her success in her tutor’s faces. She would fulfill the obligations of the treaty and become princess royal of Asgard, and Loki’s wife.

Her mind made up, she’d finally fallen asleep for what seemed like five minutes before Ragna was waking her up for the day. She struggled to stay awake as her hair was brushed to perfection, the promise of seeing Loki at breakfast forcing her from her chambers. He was probably worried sick she was going to leave him to his wretched fate. She had to talk to him.

Except he wasn’t at breakfast. Ignoring the nerves upsetting her stomach, Claire forced herself to eat.

After breakfast, Claire set off with Ragna and a guard under the guise of walking off her meal. Loki was somewhere in the palace, and she was determined to find him.

~~~~

The hallways seemed to grow busier on the lower levels they explored, and Claire followed the crowds. People curtsied and bowed to her as she walked the halls, making her feel like a celebrity. She gave polite nods to everyone they passed, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of Loki.

A flash of green caught her attention and Claire perked up, scanning the clusters of people for Loki.

There!

Loki stood with his back to her, in an animated discussion with two men she didn’t recognize. Without a thought, she dashed toward Loki, leaving Ragna and Gunnar in the dust. People parted like the red sea as she ran, gawking with dismay at the woman who dared to run.

Loki was in a discussion with two fellow council members when Claire raced up to their group.

“Hey,” she said breathlessly as she pulled him aside. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I need to talk to you.” The council members bowed to her respectfully as her hands clasped around his arm. She seemed genuinely upset, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she fought to catch her breath.

“Are you alright, my lady? Where is your escort?”

“Oh, um...somewhere back there,” Claire gestured over her shoulder. “I promise I’m fine.” Loki’s companions shared a concerned look at her boldness.

“A moment, please,” Loki said to the men he was with before steering her a few feet down the opulent hall. “What troubles you?”

“I wanted to clarify what I said yesterday.”

“My lady, we didn’t see each other yesterday.” Loki squinted at her in warning.

“Right, of course,” Claire winked. “But what I said, about feeling indecisive.”

“I see,” Loki nodded. “Then you have decided-”

“I’m staying.” Claire spoke over him.

“But you-” Loki blanched, clearly confused. “I beg your pardon?”

“I was freaking out,” Claire sighed. “I wasn’t kidding when I said lessons were going badly. It’s my fault...I- you know what, no. I’m not taking blame for this-”

“For what?”

“Everything about this just…” Loki looked concerned as she clenched her fists and growled angrily. “Goes completely against my feminist beliefs. Having to sit there and listen to those old bats go on and on and on about how my entire life is supposed to be about you! I’m supposed to let you make all the decisions about everything! Where we live, how many babies we have, you name it! I’m not supposed to have opinions!?” she threw her hands up questioningly between them.

“I suspect that would be like asking you not to breathe.” Loki joked, regret filling him instantly when Claire’s stormy eyes settled on him.

“If you think for one second that I’m going to be trailing after you like a lost puppy-” she jabbed a finger at his chest plate angrily, and Loki’s eyebrows nearly reached his hairline. “You’ve got another thing coming, pal. Either I walk next to you like an equal or not at all.”

“I would not want you to,” Loki replied slowly. “I apologize for your difficulty. I did not realize-”

“How sexist your culture is?”

“Madam-”

“What?!” Claire huffed. “Are you gonna tell me I’m wrong? Is that too strong of an opinion for you; because it sure is for everyone else.”

“I do not wish for any of those things,” Loki replied, a pinched look on his face. He sighed, glancing with concern at the people milling around them. Many of them gave the engaged couple odd looks at they passed. “It is difficult to discuss this openly here.” Neither of them could say what they really wanted to say with so many others around them, but Claire did not seem to care at all.

“Why? I don’t give a shit. You wanna know the truth?” she asked. “When you totally didn’t see me yesterday, I was fully prepared to cut and run. I had my things packed and ready to go. I was on board with stepping up for my people- I still am- but I draw the line at making myself small so other people can be comfortable.”

“I see.”

“But...then your mom told me what would happen to you if this doesn’t work out, and I don’t think you deserve that,” She placed a hand on his vambrace as she spoke, and Loki stared down at her for a beat, making her think she’d overstepped. He swallowed as she stepped slightly closer and if Claire didn’t know any better, she’d think he was nervous. “I’m still not vibing with all of this, but I think there’s more to you than what I’ve seen. I am trying to be as open about this as possible. I just need to know it’s not for nothing.”

“Thank you,” he said finally. “I still think this endeavor foolish, but it is far preferable to the alternative. That said, you are not alone in your concerns, and I would like to discuss them with you at length,” Loki grimaced as his companions summoned him. Claire offered a faint smile when his expression soured. “I’m afraid I must go. I shall see you soon, Lady Claire. I look forward to discussing this further. Do enjoy the rest of your day, my lady.” He drew her hand into his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, keeping his intense eyes focused on hers and setting her heart to racing. His lips were soft and warm, his touch gentle. Something in Claire quivered and turned to a puddle as she fought back a swoon. How could something so innocent make her stomach clench and turn her knees to jelly?

She thought about it for the rest of the day.

~~~~

Long after a respectable princess-to-be should have been asleep, Claire sat awake in her apartment going over her notes. What little intelligence S.H.I.E.L.D. possessed on the god who had laid siege to New York lay in front of her. Claire had read the dossier back to front and at this point could likely recite it in her sleep. It was her personal notes that she scrutinized now, unable to make them fall in line with the printed narrative. The Loki written on the page was calculating, grandiose, and malevolent. The Loki she was coming to know was none of those things. Well, he was still grandiose, but Claire figured that was part and parcel of being raised as royalty. The man was literally a god, worshipped for thousands of years. Still worshipped, Claire corrected herself as she thought of his rapid fans who’d pledged their undying loyalty to him before the debris in New York had been cleared.

Claire had done research of her own before her arrival in Asgard, doing countless deep dives of obscure forums and social media, and had managed to unearth a small collection of personal accounts which had yet to be verified. One such account came from a subreddit, posted by a woman living in New York at the time of the attack. The woman claimed that Loki had pushed her aside as a large piece of debris had fallen, sparing her from certain death. If it true, perhaps her husband-to-be was not the monster that the people of Earth thought him to be.

Most of what Claire found was unhelpful. Comments ranging from the typical ‘I can fix him’, ‘he’s just misunderstood’ to pure filth about what the poster would do to the man if given half a minute with him. Claire had originally dismissed them all with a roll of her eyes- she might be a monster fucker, but having witnessed the carnage of New York firsthand she wasn’t ready to ride the man’s dick at the time. Now that she was getting to know him and riding on his dick was a fast-approaching reality, Claire wasn’t too mad about it. The circumstances, sure, but not the getting-to-fuck-one-of-the-hottest-men-in-the-galaxy part. The man was FINE.

And he wasn’t like S.H.I.E.L.D. had thought he would be. Bruce had described him as ‘bag full of cats’, but Claire felt she was beginning to see behind the curtain. Sure he was mischievous, and kind of a dick, but he was thoughtful, and gentlemanly, and at least willing to listen to her concerns about the rampant sexism. And so fucking tall.

Focus, Claire. She fought not to melt at the memory of him kissing her knuckles earlier. For all the smut she consumed, a kiss on the hand was what made her all gooey inside? What was she, twelve?

She blamed the forced separation. In the limited time they spent together, they were watched like hawks in the name of propriety. Would things change after they married? Claire quite liked the intense stirrings their interactions caused, and hoped the feeling remained after the wedding. Her eyes dropped to the hand Loki had kissed, her skin tingling as she remembered the feeling of his lips. She wanted another. Fuck it, she may as well admit she wanted him to kiss up her arm like Gomez Addams. She deserved to be loved like Morticia.

Claire sighed wistfully before pulling herself out of her rose-tinted thoughts. She could daydream about Gomez and Morticia later. For now, she needed to focus. Shaking her head, Claire pulled the dossier back in front of her, rifling through the small stack of photos inside. She’d already seen them several times, but this time she caught something she hadn’t seen before.

In many of the photos, the photo was blurry- having been pulled from subpar traffic cameras or someone’s shaky cell phone. However there was one, from his time aboard the helicarrier, where the image was crystal clear. In this photo, it was clear how haggard Loki was. Just like the times before, Claire noted the dark shadows beneath his sunken eyes, the grayish tint to his alabaster skin and how pale and chapped his lips were. In the margins of the glossy photo paper, Claire had made notes: -not sleeping? -drugs? Anything she could think of to explain his appearance. Prior to meeting him, Claire had had no way of knowing, but the biggest clue had been staring her in the face the whole time. Loki’s eyes were blue in the photo.

Weren’t his eyes green? Claire dropped the photo, thinking back to the times she’d seen him in the past few days. The marketplace, the garden, the hallway that morning, dinner...his eyes had been green each time. No blue whatsoever.

What the hell?

Just as she was scribbling a new note in the margins, a knock on her chamber doors startled her. Wasn’t it a bit late for social calls? Ever cautious, Claire closed the dossier and hid it beneath the couch cushion before she went to the door.

A handmaiden stood waiting, bearing a heavy looking tray of dishes and a cloche. The guard watched from his post beside the door, looking bored.

“The meal you requested, madam.” The handmaiden said, giving her a curtsy.

Claire hadn’t requested shit. She didn’t recognize the woman, but she was still pretty new to the palace. Just as she was about to close the door, the handmaiden winked at her. Claire paused, thinking for a moment that the wink looked familiar. The fuck?

“Right. Yes. Sorry, I must be more tired than I realized. Come in.” The guard relaxed, allowing the handmaiden to step inside and closing the door behind her.

“Do you allow anyone into your chambers, or am I special?” Loki asked from behind her, grinning when Claire whirled to face him.

“You sneaky little shit,” she hissed quietly, looking at the door in alarm. “You can’t be here! The paw patrol will be pissed!”

“Paw patrol?” Loki’s face scrunched in confusion. God damn it, he was cute. And in fewer layers than usual. His leather armor had been exchanged for soft looking leisure clothes, but his long limbs were still covered by dark fabric. “I am not familiar with this band of enforcers,” he set the tray upon the table in front of the couch. “May I sit?” he gestured to the couch.

“Never mind,” Claire sighed. “Yes, please.” his loose collar gaped to the side as he sat down, and Claire was granted a teasing glimpse of his collar bone. “Why are you here? Why is Gunnar not barging in to haul you back out?”

“Because princess lessons are going poorly, and you clearly need the extra help,” Loki sighed, brushing his hair back from his face and exposing a strip of skin at his waist. “As to your second question, the room is cloaked in my magic. Your guard will not be able to hear us. I’m not risking imprisonment again so you can learn how to properly curtsy.”

“Hey, fuck you.” Claire spat. It was nice of him to offer his help, but he didn’t have to be condescending about it.

“Not yet, darling,” Loki brushed off her words, clasping his hands together. “Now then, let’s get started.” He dragged the heavy table closer to them with ease, the fabric of his sleeves barely containing the muscles in his arm as they flexed.

“Oh goody.” Claire said flatly as she sat beside him. Loki shot her a dark look as he reached to pull the cloche off the gilded charger beneath it. He set it aside, letting her see what he’d brought. A small assortment of little sandwiches and what looked like miniature fruit tarts sat on the charger, waiting to be consumed. In front of the charger, he’d arranged a proper place setting and Claire was actually a little impressed.

“This is how the table settings are arranged for state dinners,” he explained, naming each utensil as he touched it. His thigh pressed against hers as he spoke, and Claire struggled to focus on his words instead of the steely muscle she could feel. This was the closest they had ever been and her body was intensely focused on that fact. “You start from the outside and work your way in with each course.”

“Yeah, I know,” Claire replied, pushing away her desire to ride his thigh. God, how good would that feel? “I’m a commoner, not an idiot.”

“Well how was I to know?” Loki chuckled. “Better to start with the basics and work our way up,” I’ve got something he could work up. “Focus darling, or we’ll never finish.” Claire snorted, drawing another ireful glare from her husband-to-be. He waved his hand and the dishes disappeared from the tray, replaced with a scroll of parchment.

“Aw, snacks.” Loki rolled his eyes, returning the charger with another wave of his hand.

“I swear you’re just like Thor,” he shook his head, taking one of the sandwiches for himself before handing it to her. “Now pay attention. This will help you remember the rank of anyone you may meet. It’s very important that you know how to address members of the court and in what order.”

An hour later, Claire was able to recite the flow chart back to Loki and had satisfactorily answered all of his questions on how to address the various nobles.

“Maybe I’m not such a shit princess after all,” Claire remarked as she rolled the scroll back up. The charger rested beside her on the couch, the snacks long devoured. “I’m definitely making flash cards.” Loki grinned.

“It helps to have study materials. No doubt the crones expected you to memorize it after hearing it once.”

“Pretty much.”

“Do you have any questions before I take my leave?” Claire’s eyes flicked to his as he looked up at her.

They were green. So why were they blue in the surveillance photo?

“Why are you helping me?” Loki licked his lips as he considered the question, his brows bunching as he met her gaze again.

“Because regardless of how we got here, our paths are now intertwined,” he said gently. “I will not let you fail, Claire. Even if it means risking life and limb to teach you.”

“Life and limb, huh?”

“Of course,” Loki nodded. “Should you fail, the alliance would be in ruins and you would be sent back to Midgard. I, however, will either be sent back to prison or to the executioner’s block. Most likely the latter.” Claire paled as the weight of their situation crushed her.

“Your mom didn’t tell me that part,” she murmured. “Fuck, I really am a get-out-of-jail-free card.”

“A what?”

“Remind me to introduce you to Monopoly,” Claire smiled weakly. “Actually, that would be a great way to teach you about capitalism.”

“A lesson for another night, I think. You should get some rest.” he got to his feet, gathering the tray in his hands.

“Probably,” Claire agreed as she yawned. She got to her feet as well, her back popping as she stretched. Loki’s eyes trailed over her body, lingering on the curve of her hips. “Will there be more lessons tomorrow night?”

“But of course,” he replied easily, his eyes darting up to meet hers. “I will be sure to bring snacks, since that seems to motivate you.”

“I was hungry!” Claire cried defensively, both of them giggling. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Loki nodded as he made his way to the door. Suddenly, he wheeled back around to face her. “About what you said earlier-”

“Yes?”

“There are many things I would change, if I could,” Loki pursed his lips. “I may not ever have that power, but I will always treat you as an equal.”

“Wow,” Claire smiled, relief flooding her veins. “Than-”

“An annoying, hot-headed one, but an equal nonetheless.” Loki smirked as she scowled at him with annoyance clear on her face. “A jarl?” he questioned before she could speak.

“My lord.” Claire replied, giving a sarcastic curtsy. A corner of Loki’s mouth curled upward at her cheek.

“The second prince?” he pressed.

“Pain-in-my-ass,” Claire cackled. “Good night.” Loki’s half smile evolved into a full one, and before Claire could blink, the handmaiden from before stood where he’d been.

“Sleep well, my lady.”

#covenant #loki x ofc #loki fic

[a-cabin-in-midgard]

No idea if I did this justice or not but a little something for @ninjahiccups. (Because The Songbird of Asgard totally hasn't been eating away at my brain. Really hope I did Eivor justice 😶).

Assets are from the Daz Store, Renderosity, and Artstation.

Do not repost without my permission.

#daz3dart #art #dazart #gow ragnarok #gow oc #render #god of war #a cabin in midgard #gow heimdall #oc #songbird #eivor

[chamomile-tea-time]

☆ intro post underneath the cut ☆

☆ helloooo!!

☆ going by cherry here but u can call me any nicknames

☆ i live in europe currently

☆ i'm a christian :)

☆ 18

☆ infp

☆ favorite book, show, or movie series: the ballad of songbirds and snakes, the hunger games, warrior cats, my little pony, the promised neverland, magnus chase and the gods of asgard, the lunar chronicles, harry potter, and more that i'm probably forgetting about [edit: reading mistborn!]

☆ favorite games: animal crossing (wild world & new leaf), harvest moon (tale of two towns & grand bazaar), stardew valley, super auto pets

☆ favorite music artists: lorde, gorillaz, vampire weekend, marina, melanie martinez, mother mother, cavetown, glass animals, and more

☆ niche interest right now: mistborn yayyyy

☆ special random hatred for: the divergent series (i'm sorry... i'm truly a hater)

☆ i have a deep love for lil rodents. send me pictures of your pet rat/mouse/hamster/guinea pig/bunny/etc. i love them

☆ i don't post or interact nsfw

☆ feel free to interact at any time <3

☆ may or may not take this down bc whimsy :-)

☆ banner from pinterest

#intro post #introduction #hello!! #<3 #pinned intro #tbosas #thg #warrior cats #infp #random stuff #nice to meet ya #lorde #gorillaz

[lafleshlumpeater]

♡ M A I N  M A S T E R L I S T ♡

♡ pjo + hoo ♡

♡ trials of apollo ♡

♡ magnus chase and the gods of asgard ♡

♡ harry potter (lightning era) ♡

♡ harry potter (marauders era) ♡

♡ hunger games ♡

♡ a ballad of songbirds and snakes ♡

♡ divergent ♡

♡ the lunar chronicles ♡

♡ stranger things ♡

♡ scream ♡

♡ dead poets’ society ♡

♡ the summer i turned pretty ♡

♡ to all the boys ♡

♡ my life with the walter boys ♡

*if there aren't any hyperlinks on any of the characters' names after you click on these ones, i haven’t written anything for them yet.

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#main masterlist<3

[ninjahiccups]

The Songbird of Asgard

Chapter 4: Change

AO3 link here OC insert version here Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3 Work count: 9.2k Warnings: Swearing. Metaphor for letting go of toxic family members if you squint.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- Blurb: Another day, another adventure to a different realm. This time you and Heimdall are headed for Alfheim, where unpleasant memories come back to haunt you, and bring back fears you thought you had buried. Comfort comes in the form of the last person you would ever think of, and after finishing that tour Heimdall was supposed to give you something shifts between you two. --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You two were starting to establish a routine of sorts. You took a liking to that secluded spot and were willing to sing there. Whenever Heimdall heard it, he always found himself wandering in that direction. He never consciously acknowledged it, nor did he let you catch him nearby anymore. He may have said your talent was decent before, but after a few more listens he admitted to himself — and only himself — that he really did enjoy it. Never would he say as much out loud. You did seem to keep an ear out for him, though. There were a few times he felt you picking up on his presence. In those cases he revealed himself, giving the same excuse he had the first time. You never shooed him away, and he only stuck around for so long. Still, it was beginning to feel natural, like it was something you were supposed to do. That was something he never spoke of as well.

About a fortnight later Heimdall received word from the All-Father himself. Your next goal had been found, and Odin expected you to take care of it in a timely manner. By then, if Heimdall couldn't pick up any hints about your location, he would check the library first. Your frequent patronage proved to be an astute observation when he found you there right away.

You were back to perusing the bookshelves, though this time you were empty-handed. The head librarian was about to approach you, an action she abandoned when she saw Heimdall doing the same. "Run out of easy reads? Unfortunately, we only have the highest quality literature around here."

Your eyes rolled at him. You were already wishing he was somewhere else. "And yet there's several copies of Kvasir's works scattered around. You suddenly consider that to be 'high quality?'"

"It is sad, but we must cater to everyone. Even the simple-minded ones need books."

You gave a tiny snicker. "Sure," came your sarcastic reply, shaking your head. "Have any recommendations?"

Heimdall gawked at you for a second. "What?" He couldn't remember the last time someone (other than Odin) asked for his opinion.

"For a book to read. It seems we have similar tastes."

You looked at him, expecting him to scoff or laugh at you, mocking that you hoped he would comply. He did neither, his eyes were wandering, like he was thinking. He was actually taking your request seriously. You followed him after he started for a nearby bookcase. "Ever heard of Hamsun?" He asked as he went directly to the book in question and removed it from the shelf.

"I haven't." You examined the thin book and smirked. "Thinner than I expected. Longer books too hard for you?"

Heimdall glared at you. "Perhaps I picked this one because I believed you would be the one to have trouble."

"As if you cared enough to consider that," you chuckled. "Who is Hamsun?"

"One of the finest authors to live in Asgard. A problematic figure in some ways, but his tales are far deeper and more complex than they seem. Hence why so few care for his work."

"What's this one about?" 

"A tale of how two lovers destroyed their own relationship with their selfishness and pettiness. Be cautious. It is, in fact, a rather gruesome read."

You giggled. "Of course you'd enjoy a story like that." You may have teased how fitting it was for him, but you were intrigued. Moreso because Heimdall was clearly so ardent about it. He cared for few things, you'd noticed, but he loved those things fervently. 

Heimdall sighed. "Too scary for you, little stray?" 

Back to his condescending self. "No, I'm still going to read it. Just pointing out how in character it is."

This time he was the one to roll his eyes in annoyance. "Anyways, the All-Father has found another relic piece. Huginn is waiting to take us to it."

"Let me drop this off at my cabin first." You turned and took a few steps toward the exit just as the head librarian, this time wearing thick, oversized glasses, came from around another shelf. You bumped into her, the stack of books in the elderly woman's arms tumbling to the floor. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" You gasped, bending down to help pick them up. The old woman held no contempt, insisting that you had done no wrong. Heimdall leered at her, feeling how desperate she was to earn the goddess's favor. You were popular among servants, and they all went out of their way to make you happy. It was all so typical to him.

He got a glimpse of your eyes as you stood, searching them for any precise thoughts you had in your head. When he heard them he had to hold in a barking laugh.

The librarian was on her way, as were you. Heimdall caught up to you just as you exited and muttered, "Those glasses do make her look like a frog."

You spun to him and slapped his arm. At least you intended to, but he, of course, dodged it easily. "Don't say that out loud!" 

"How shocking! First insults, now hiding them away? You've truly outdone yourself," he sniggered.

"It's not an insult! It was just a joke!"

"Yes, one you chose not to share."

"Of course not!" 

"Why?"

"Because it's mean!" You exclaimed, exasperated at his complete lack of manners. 

"It's mean to tell a joke?" Heimdall’s grin fell, becoming much more serious.

You weren't sure what to say. He seemed almost…angry?

"The old windbag may be as pathetic as all the other mortals but she likes you enough not to be so critical."

"Well…" You didn’t have an excuse. You had made good friends with the elderly woman, someone who had an easygoing sense of humor. There probably would have been no harm in this particular case. 

To your surprise Heimdall proved he was no longer in a good mood, frowning at you intensely. "Why do you hide it?"

That was far from what you expected from an irritated Heimdall. You would have anticipated many things, most of them unpleasant, but definitely not a question like that. "What?"

Heimdall sounded genuinely curious, like he truly couldn't comprehend why he had to ask. "Why do you hide it? You have this…fire in you, one that you have a great desire to keep alight. Yet you always throw water on it, refusing to let it  smolder freely. Why?"

You fell silent. You wanted to deny it, to say he was reading too much into it (literally, considering his foresight). If you did, however, you would also be refuting Sif's opinion as well. The goddess had said something very similar within minutes of your meeting, and now even Heimdall took issue with it. 

If Heimdall, of all people, thought you should let yourself go a little more, then maybe you were wrong to be so cautious. Your eyes went down, fingers feeling the leather cover of the book in your hands. "I…I don't know," you mumbled.

Without warning Heimdall put a hand on your chin and lifted your eyes to his. You were so dazed at the action that you had totally forgotten that he could read you better that way. His eyes were just so bright, so beautiful. It really was a shame they didn't match the person they belonged to.

"I do." At his words you ripped your face away. "You came here to get away from the elves, yet you still let them hold onto you so tightly." You looked back up at him, finding disappointment in his expression.. "How sad. You may actually be bearable if you would recognize the lies you're telling yourself."

Before he could say more you shoved him away, fuming. "I'll meet you in front of the lodge in ten," you grumbled, storming off.

Heimdall shook his head as he watched you go, his dissatisfaction making him sigh. "You really think you've moved on. If only you were as honest with yourself as you were with everyone else." He headed for the lodge, thinking about how difficult your next task would be.

Within ten minutes you had arrived at the lodge, where it seemed Heimdall and Huginn were in some sort of competition to see who could give the other the more menacing glare. The trance was broken when you met them. Heimdall threw out a remark about the shame of being late, and Huginn lifted off to teleport them away. After ignoring his comment, you asked, "Where are we going this time?"

Heimdall glanced at you, saying nothing. You raised a questioning brow at him until the ravens cleared. The sandy wasteland and crisp night air was immediately recognizable.

Alfheim. Dark elf territory to be exact. You didn't even need the most recent piece of the relic in your hands to have an idea of where the next would be. The dread was setting in, knowing the dark elves would not hesitate to attack you. They never appreciated all your efforts to protect their rivals, and abandoning them would do nothing to quench their need for revenge. The thought made you wish you could take all those actions back, knowing that they were all mistakes that you should have seen through instead of valiant efforts to protect your kin like you had once believed. The reminder that fleeing the realm did nothing to change the reality of your world was unwelcome, making your stomach curl with grief. You shook your head. Now was not the time, not when a mind reader was around. "I already know where it is."

"Deciding to go with your gut this time?" Heimdall said, following as you started walking without casting the usual spell you used to track your target.

"If the piece had been intercepted in this area, there's only one place it would likely be," you explained, and Heimdall felt the trepidation seeping into your thoughts.

He smirked at you. "Not happy to be home, stray?"

You glared at him, not appreciating that he addressed your inner feelings. "I wouldn't consider this home, especially not this part of the realm." 

"You should. It suits you well, " he said, gesturing to the desolate landscape littered with abandoned trinkets and chimes. 

You gave him a mocking smile. "In that case Helheim would certainly suit you because I'm going to kill you at this rate."

Heimdall chuckled at you, knowing you didn't mean it literally. "You can certainly try, stray." You looked over at him, daring him to look in your eyes and read you closely. You were recalling your fight in Muspelheim. The time you left him bruised and dirty. "Don't you dare say it," he growled.

You snickered at him. "You walked right into that one." The chasms you walked through came to an end, opening up into a wide view of the wasteland.

"Here." You stopped at the edge of a steep drop. Down below there was a mass of hive, roots and bulbous globs of gelatinous ooze gathered into a ball of twisted mayhem. Red light leaked from the base, where there were a few entrances that could be breached on foot. The rest seemed to be above ground, through the scattered holes in the hive. The occasional dark elf flew from one part or another as they watched from above. "A dark elf stronghold. One of the two that the king frequents. It doesn’t seem like he's here now, thankfully."

Huginn cawed at both of them, then tipped up his beak like he was unhappy with his dinner. As he flew off Heimdall sighed in annoyance. "Huginn's not willing to go inside. The pest doesn't want to get hive on his feathers."

"Which means we'll have to sneak in and out unseen, unless we want the entire army on us."

Heimdall shrugged. "Doable."

You gaped at him. "I know you're overconfident, but there's no way you're that delusional. You can't fight hundreds of them at once."

"Who do you take me for, a moron like Thor or Baldur? I don't need to fight them all off. You just stick to finding the way, I'll handle the rest, as usual."

You smirked at him. "Then you can have fun getting down by yourself." You conjured a valkyrie around you, using Gna's wings to lift off the ground and drift down to the base of the chasm. When you reached the bottom you laughed to yourself, not needing to hear him to know he was cursing you. He reached you momentarily, as annoyed as you hoped. "That didn't take you as long as I thought it would."

Heimdall rolled his eyes. "Don't act so surprised. Next time I'll push you off just to give you a scare."

"I'll be sure to take you with me then."

Heimdall found himself smirking and shaking his head at you despite the aggravation.

You made their way to the edge of the keep, where roots sporadically rose from the sand ahead of one of the ground entrances. You saw no sign of elves and moved past them, until Heimdall seized your arm and pulled you back behind a bundle of branches. You spun to question him, seeing that his eyes were directed upward. Following his gaze, three dark elves flew into view, patrolling the perimeter of the hive. That must have been what he meant when he said he didn't plan on fighting any elves. As the scouts flew overhead Heimdall whispered, "Eyes on the skies, stray."

You turned back to him. "Wow, you might actually be more helpful than you were in Muspelheim."

Heimdall only huffed at you and released your arm, informing you it was clear. With Heimdall looking out for any presence with his foresight, you thought that things may go smoother than you expected. 

And it did. Whenever you needed to cross into another room Heimdall would warn you, and you'd wait for any prying eyes to pass or become occupied by something else. If such an opportunity wouldn't come or they were pressed for time they'd find a distraction, usually in the form of throwing a stone to make noise far from them. Between your clear path and Heimdall’s foresight warning you of any elves, the twisting, jagged, maze-like catacombs of branches and the dead earth may as well have been a straight hallway. Good, you told yourself. You wanted nothing more than to avoid any sort of altercation this time. It would no doubt get messy.

You were getting dangerously close to the center of the hive, having climbed down several slopes and worked further inward, where more globes of goo were nestled into the living walls. Heimdall, of course, saw fit to complain about how disgusting they were the entire time, but that much you expected. "Awww, poor Heimdall thrown off by some tree roots?" You said as if you were speaking to a baby.

"I'll gut you if you keep that up," he grumbled as he wiped more red slime from his sleeve. Though he didn't really care that you were laughing at him.

What caught you off guard was the sight of a particular individual, speaking to a group of soldiers in the dark elves' tongue in the section of hive next to them. Heimdall had waved for you to continue, knowing none of them were watching their surroundings, but you remained, eyes locked on the dark elf adorned with a small crown composed of three horns. "Shit," you swore to yourself.

Heimdall followed your line of sight, uninterested. "Someone you know?"

"Not in a good way." You remembered him. You were young when you encountered him. A general, hand-picked by the dark elf king's own hands. One of the most prestigious members of their ranks. You were barely an adult when he and his battalion stormed into the Temple of Light, fighting through every light elf they found to run them out. With your help the light elves managed to push them back, using your magic to give them an advantage. The general cursed you for choosing their side, vowing to make you pay for interfering in elven matters. You couldn't sleep for weeks after that, so shaken by the horrors of their war. It was then you started questioning exactly what you were doing, getting in the middle of a war that seemed so fruitless to you. More importantly, a general of his ranking had been trained to have acute sensitivity to the hive, using its energy and the sounds traveling through its tendrils to pick up on signs of intruders well before anyone else could ever notice them. He was likely the only one who could detect you even with Heimdall’s foresight. "We need to stay far from him."

"Oh really? I was thinking we should saunter over and say hello."

"Shut up," you hissed at him, finally working up the courage to sneak by the gathering of elves. You were surprised he only laughed quietly at you.

You weren't sure how long you followed the trail only you could see, eventually reaching a dead end. A room made of young hive, freshly sprung from its neighbors and forming a dome for the elves to make use of. The only light came from the holes all around them, letting the moonlight filter in and illuminate splotches of the ground. It looked to be a storage room, large and vaguely round with wooden shelves and boulders stacked with miscellaneous trinkets and tools. Rusted weapons set aside for repair, excess furs and leather needed for armor crafting, books and artifacts from a time before the war over the Light came. What you needed, unfortunately, was not among the random materials laying around. No, the shard of the artifact Odin wanted was tangled in the fresh hive, woven into the thin strips of sticky wood. You looked to Heimdall to ensure it was safe. Once he confirmed it was, you jogged to the other end of the room where the piece was. Heimdall arrived behind you, seeing why you had stopped. 

"Oh, wonderful," he sighed. 

"I think I can get it out…" you coated the stone in a barrier, flexing your floating hand to make it expand, forcing the hive apart. It was still fresh and tender enough to be malleable, but it still took a great deal of effort to pry it open. 

A few moments in, Heimdall began scanning the room, alerted. "Something's got their attention."

"I almost have it."

"Almost may not be good enough." Heimdall put a hand on Hofud's hilt.

A final wet crack came from the broken hive as your barrier expanded too far for it to handle, allowing you to pull the stone free from any stray twigs. "Okay, let's—"

You yelped as Heimdall yanked you away just as a glowing spear pieced the spot you once stood. The elven general growled at you, spitting at them in the elven tongue with disdain. He shouted and more dark elves flew in, battle cries ringing throughout the caves. Heimdall stepped in front of you when one elf lunged at them, slashing at it easily. But more were coming in, and despite the foresight, Heimdall did only have two hands. 

The lower ranking elves swarmed Heimdall, forcing him to dodge away from you. The general was focused on you, stabbing and prodding at the barrier you placed between them, all while he spewed hatred at you. Heimdall kept looking over at them, knowing you would be worn out fast if you used your copycat tricks to fight back. His head pounded while he strafed and sidestepped anything that came his way, his foresight constantly warning him of danger. He could barely hear the shattering of your barrier over the noise in his mind.

You allowed your shield to break, channeling Heimdall’s form around you and making foresight from your own magic to dodge the general's jab perfectly. In a second you dropped the guise, inundated with so much stimuli from the battle that you were overwhelmed in an instant, and left stunned long enough for the general to hit you in the gut with the butt of his spear. You tumbled onto the ground, the relic piece sliding across the dirt. Heimdall caught sight of you, knowing he needed to reach you before the general did. The hulking elf took a foolish moment to speak to you, and even though Heindall spoke the elven tongue it was too loud and his foresight too overbearing for him to catch it. Whatever it was made you freeze.

Heimdall needed to end this.

A realm shift encapsulated him, giving him time to focus enough bifrost into his hand for him to smash into the dirt. The explosion was strong enough to wound the ground and send the henchmen back, yowling in pain as the bifrost burned their skin. You came to your senses then, using a barrier to shove the general back before he could run you through. He stumbled, and Heimdall took this moment to use another realm shift to dash over. His sword went through the elf's chest before he even knew Heimdall was there. He gurgled and moaned at the pain, the life draining from him. He looked to you, mumbling out one last sentence before Heimdall withdrew his blade and let the elf fall in a crumpled heap. You will never know your place, he had said to you. Heimdall hadn’t the slightest clue what that was supposed to mean

You were still dazed, not yet registering what had happened. Heimdall marched to you and yanked you up. "Now's not the time for a nap," he snapped. You shook your head like you were breaking free from the fog, then went straight for the stone you had dropped. Heimdall grabbed you and pulled you behind him as he ran out the entrance. The dark elves he had blasted were recovering, and none of them were happy with the death of their esteemed general.

He stopped not far ahead, knowing more elves were swarming around them. "More are coming."

They needed to hide, fast. You searched for anything they could use, but only hive was in the vicinity. Not much to use. Then you had an idea. You moved to the wall of branches and put a hand on it, wondering how elves like the general were able to have such a deep connection to it. You felt it, magic. Natural magic that made the hive what it was, gave it enough life to move and grow of its own volition. "Come here," you called to Heimdall, signaling him to stand against the wall. You held your hands out to your sides, closing your eyes and focusing on the faint energy in the hive. With a slow exhale you placed your glittering gold magic over the hive around them, then brought her hands inward. The sticky substance shifted and moved, unwinding and slithering around them, meeting in front of the two gods. You closed your hands, prompting the hive to knot up and form a solid mass that blended in with the rest of the structure. Just as more dark elves flew by.

Heimdall smirked, wanting to say how blasphemous the sight would have been to the light elves that raised you. He stopped, the overflow of foresight finally subsiding enough for him to read you.

Anguish. Agony. Crippling sorrow. A feeling of isolation and loss. An all new level of pain.

You knew Heimdall was trying to read you. You evidently didn't feel like sharing. For the first time in weeks your mind closed up. You shut him out completely.

"We need to get out of here," you said, purposely avoiding his eyes. Your hand went back to the hive, taking a moment to feel the flow of magic in it. You turned around, touching the wall directly behind them. "There's a tunnel through here." 

Heimdall only watched as you forced the vines apart like you had before. You were still forbidding him from reading you. "You're quiet," he said, referring to the mental wall you put up.

You stepped into the narrow tunnel you opened, ignoring him.

He followed, but your silence troubled him. Not in a way that provoked suspicion, as it had before. You had shown that you had no ill intent towards the All-Father or anyone else, that much he doubted no longer. This time it made him uneasy. He had gotten used to seeing your clear and straightforward thoughts.

When you squeezed through the passage you found yourselves in a circular room carved from rock with bedrolls littered around the edges of the room, spiraling ramps leading up to higher levels until they met the blue light of the moon outside. 

"Barracks. Empty for now." Heimdall looked to you for a reply. You gave none.

He couldn't hold back the words before they escaped. "Have something to hide now?"

You stopped, your back to him. You wanted to lie, come up with some excuse to get him off your back. It would be a fool's errand, though. If he had any inkling that you were lying he wouldn't let it go. You knew that too well by now. The truth would have to do. "I just…don't want to give my thoughts right now."

Your voice was so quiet, broken and fragile. Something was truly wrong this time. He let you take a few steps ahead before he followed you up the steep and uneven slope to the top of the insanely deep pit. 

Only the stuffy air remained between you. Something that had never happened before. Heimdall found it dull, lifeless. So much more boring than your usual encounters . Sure, your last escapade hadn't been pleasant, but since then he had gotten used to having an opponent to mentally spar with. He almost preferred your anger to the deafening silence.

Actually, he did prefer that, he decided. "Is just being in Alfheim enough to sour your mood? It's no wonder you can't let this place go." That had gotten you earlier that day, surely it would again.

No response. You didn't even acknowledge he had said anything, not even an ounce of fury rising in you.

It was…unpleasant, in a way. He wasn't entirely sure why. He did dislike being ignored, but this was different. He hated it, how still things had become. He wanted to get you to talk, to return to the antics you had adopted. He wanted to know what you were thinking.

And why not knowing bothered him so much.

"Really, I'm disappointed, stray. I thought I may have actually gotten through to you today. Perhaps you really are lost to us all," he quipped, a melodramatic sadness characterizing his words.

Your shoulders tightened, but no words.

Closer. "You really are so sensitive. What was it, a few words from an elf to throw you off? That's all it takes, is it?"

"Heimdall!" You barked, looking over your shoulder and quickening your pace. "Not now."

Your anger was rising. That flaming ember in you was making its way to the surface.

"I didn't quite catch what he said. Was it about your hair? Did he say you didn't look nice today? Anything that really mattered?"

Something about his phrasing set you off. You marched back to him, raising a hand in the process. It shot out, aiming the back of your palm at his face. "When are you going to—"

He caught you by the wrist. He didn't need his foresight to see such a predictable move. You glowered at him, eyes alight with passionate fury. "Let go!" You growled, trying to yank your hand free.

"There it is." Your brilliant eyes met his as you stopped. Again, he didn't think before he spoke. "There's the fire you hide so well," he said as he smiled.

Yes, that was it. That spark, that little bit of feisty life that you had been taught to bury deep within. He wanted that to come back out. He wanted your genuine nature again. The only one he had ever seen. Without even realizing it he hated how you quickly fell back into your habit of letting the teachings of the elves' war dictate how much of yourself you showed. Now you were fighting back, not letting him win so easily. Giving him a challenge again.

"I knew I shouldn't have taken you seriously."

Heimdall’s thoughts came to a screeching halt. You glared directly into his eyes. You looked hurt. 

"I should have known better than to think you were doing anything but putting yourself on your stupid pedestal!" Heimdall took a moment to realize you meant your talk in front of the library. "And for the record, Heimdall," you spat his name like it burned your tongue. "I am not your entertainment." You coldly ripped your hand from his grasp and left him behind, muscles taut and mind locked down tight.

Perhaps anger wasn't the best approach for him to take.

That aside, Heimdall felt his lips curl into a snarl. You were insinuating that he lied to you that day, that he didn't mean what he said. And that was intolerable. He did not stoop to everyone else's level, hiding their true thoughts to satisfy themselves.

He had to hurry to catch up to you, stomping the entire way.  They reached the top of the barracks and found the large hole in the roof they had mistaken for an accessible exit. Heimdall opened his mouth to remind you that he was far superior to the despicable beings around him. A caw sounded in its place. Huginn reluctantly landed on the edge of the skylight, staring down at you. He wasn’t willing to fly any deeper into the hive to get you.

"Huginn, let's go!" You ordered. Your voice was loud enough to catch the attention of a passing elf, who flew into view and shouted to his comrades. Huginn finally relented, swooping into the hive and encasing you in ravens before the elves could swarm them again. In moments they were in front of Odin, who was behind his desk as usual.

The elder god raised his eye to you, looking pleased. "You're back! How'd it go?"

Heimdall glanced at you as you placed the stone on the table. "Well enough, All-Father."

"Good, good. Excellent work as usual." The goddess only nodded at him. Odin didn't seem to acknowledge your downcast state. "If there's nothing of note to report, you're free to go. Heimdall, hang back, I want to catch you up on a few things."

You gave Odin a respectful shallow bow and left, eyes never looking towards Heimdall. The walls around your mind were the most solid they had ever been. He had hoped to follow you out, corner you and chew you out as he intended to earlier.

You disappeared after that. Not literally, but Heimdall could barely catch sight of you for two days. It didn't take him long to figure out the servants were warning you when he was nearby, allowing you to slip away in time. If they were worth the trouble he would have confronted them for inconveniencing him.

Worse yet was that you hadn't told anyone why you had been so glum. So, of course, everyone blamed him. Sif had even gotten in his case, stopping him just to tell him she believed he was the reason you had been so distant. He really didn't care if they blamed him. They wouldn't listen to the truth anyway, but it was still incredibly irritating to have so many pestering him. Your popularity was not doing him any favors. 

It was strange, though. After a few more days he found himself wanting to locate you more and more. He was just eager to remind you he was not to be lumped in with the rest of the vile people on this earth, that was all.

Coincidence would be what ended their game of hide and seek. It was a little known fact that Heimdall routinely checked the exterior base of Asgard’s wall, just to be sure nothing suspicious had appeared. He never trusted those Midgardians, even if they were weak mortals. It was along that walk late one morning that he heard your music again. The melodious flute was by the Asgard realm tower, at the end of the bridge. You were sitting on the platform in front of the realm travel tower, under the arch that would have housed the door into Gladsheim, had it not been sealed shut when the wall was built. Your legs dangled off the edge and your eyes closed as you played. Normally only Aesir gods were able to use the discreet method of getting outside of the wall without Odin's ravens. Sif must have helped you, he imagined.

 "Well, it would appear that I've found you. This is where you've been hiding, is it?"

Your brow furrowed in annoyance and the flute's song ended abruptly. You didn't bother to look at him, simply lowering your flute and taking out a cloth to polish the already spotless instrument. "Congratulations." Cold and dry. 

Heimdall strolled over casually, standing next to you while facing the temple with his arms crossed. An eyesore, that temple. A symbol of a god that nobody needed to remember was how he saw it. It was foretold that Asgard’s Fimbulwinter would bring disastrous flooding. To circumvent that, Odin made arrangements to redirect the water into the Lake of Nine, which would likely cause the temple to be overrun and collapse. He looked forward to that day.

He waited a moment. Your mind was still closed to him, back to the blank slate he once found so irritating, and you clearly weren't willing to talk. That was fine, so long as he said what he needed to.

"I have reason to remind you that I never lie."

The hand polishing your flute stilled. You finally looked up at him, clearly having no idea why he said such a thing. 

"You said you doubted my words. You should always take what I say seriously." 

The boiling anger rose in you again, your gaze swiftly returning to your lap. You should have known he would go through all this effort just to let you know you offended him, to make the entire ordeal about himself. "Fine. You've said your piece. Now leave." Still no warmth or tolerance in your voice. It stung him somehow.

"And why are you so eager to get rid of me?" When you refused to answer, thinking the reason was obvious, he added, "I'm especially displeased to be locked out again." His patience was thinning.

Your shoulders tensed. You wrapped your flute in the cloth, dedicating your focus to remaining calm. "You don't need to know my thoughts."

"I do, actually. It is—"

"Your job. Yes, I get it. But even if you did know them, you wouldn't understand!" You put your flute down and stood, pacing over to the brazier to Heimdall’s left. 

"You really do think I'm a complete fool now just because I made you angry? That I wouldn't understand something so simple as one of your measly—"

"You don't know what it's like, Heimdall!" You shouted. The dam had broken and the words flooded out like you were talking to nobody but yourself. "You have your purpose, your place, things you do that matter. Do you know what it's like to be constantly searching and wondering if what you do means anything? If it would make any difference if you suddenly disappeared? If you only mean as much as your usefulness? To wonder why you've done so much if you're still wandering around in the dark with no light in sight? It's torture. Terrible, excruciating torture!" You panted, out of breath from your outburst. You stared at Heimdall for a moment, meeting his eyes only briefly before turning your back to him. His stupid, blank expression that displayed not a single care only vexed you even more.

The smartass commentary you expected never came. Heimdall sighed, his eyes returning to the lake. He had plenty to say to that. Never would he verbalize it.

He remembered, when he was a young god, well before he was entrusted with keeping Gjallarhorn, when he was trying to impress Odin with his many talents. Every day and night he devoted his time to hard work and proactive problem solving, all just to show the All-Father that he was worth something. For so, so long it wasn't enough. Nothing he did would earn his attention, or set him apart as more valuable than the rest of Asgard. It was agonizing, wondering what it would take to be someone important, to rise to the level of prestige that he deserved. It took years of honing his foresight to start climbing the ranks. All the time before that…he only asked himself what he was doing wrong. That wasn't something he felt anymore, of course, having shown everyone that he was so far above and beyond the rest that it wasn't even a question anymore. Though, now that he was thinking about it, that feeling you were describing was fresher than he realized. It was when you came to Asgard, before you let him into your mind. He had thought that all of his hard work would fall apart under his feet, make Odin think he wasn't as special as he had once been. That he would be stripped of his responsibilities and left no more remarkable than every other half wit in the realm. He'd be back to mundane, forgettable tasks that had no impact or meant anything to him or anyone else. The thought alone was disturbing.

Now that you mentioned it, he really did understand how you felt. Far more than he liked. He refused to say it out loud. Even if he did, you probably wouldn't believe him anyway. 

"Why are you sitting around then?" You looked over your shoulder, eyes flaming with fury. "If you're so eager to make yourself matter, then find out how to." 

The anger vanished and you turned to face him. He didn't return the favor, keeping his eyes forward as he continued. "You expect meaning to be served to you? And if it did, would it even mean anything anymore? Your value is what you make, not what is assigned." He directed his eyes to yours as soon as he felt the walls around your mind weaken. He heard it, the words of the elven general that had yet to leave your thoughts.

You have made yourself into the perfect tool, goddess. Your purpose will always be limited, and you will be thrown away once you are useless. 

A biased opinion, Heimdall thought, born only of jealousy that you had not been on the dark elves' side. Surely if you had been his view of you would have been much more favorable. So archetypal.

Heimdall used that new information to further his argument. "You want to matter? To mean more than your perceived uses? Then forget the elves, forget what you did for them. You're only lost because you haven't let them go. You let them hold you back like a dog tied to a tree. Cut the leash loose and find the light yourself. It's really not that hard. It's so simple even a child could think of it." 

He waited for you to snap back. He waited for you to tell him it wasn't at all that simple and that he didn't know anything about your predicament. Then you would go back to ignoring him, lost in your own little world after he gave you all the answers you needed. What else would anyone do?

All he heard were your footsteps. You returned to your spot on the platform, sitting next to him and following his gaze into the lake. 

"You're right."

Heimdall thought the reply was in his head at first. He shamed you and proved you were only whining about your choices, but you agreed? He felt the barriers blocking your mind from him fade completely, and it was then he felt the calm that had overcome you. Calm, and determination.

"I'm still acting like I don't have control. But I do, and if I'm not taking advantage of that then I'll never be content with myself." You looked at Heimdall, who suddenly didn't want to meet your eyes. "You said as much before. Sif has too. I…I need to listen to you." A beat of silence. "I'm sorry."

Heimdall’s eyes flew to you. An apology?

"For assuming you were lying. I really should know better by now, considering you're openly a jerk." You giggled at the glare he gave you. "I'll take it to heart, and try to be better."

What did he say to that? To someone who heard the truth only he could lay bare for them and didn't meet it with anger and denial. Someone who wanted to improve on their own, rather than tear everyone else down just to make themselves think they were better. 

You really were different.

You smiled. The first one he had seen since they visited Alfheim. This time…he thought it looked brighter somehow. He must have been imagining things. "I never thought you would be the one I would vent to."

Heimdall shoved his curious thoughts aside in favor of putting on a bored tone. "I'm thrilled to be honored with such a role."

“But really, thank you.” 

Again, he was quiet. He hated how he had no idea what to do with such a reaction. It wasn’t like he wanted to solve all your problems, he just…was voicing his thoughts. That was it. “Said as if I actually cared.”

“That was some really good advice for someone who didn’t care.”

“Pointing out your pathetic flaws is not advice.”

You laughed, leaving Heimdall unsure how such an insult was funny. 

“You know, you seem to speak your own language, Heimdall.”

He fixed you with a stare that held a mixture of confusion, offense, and disgust. “Have you lost your mind? We’re speaking the same language.”

“Not literally,” you clarified, expression softening just a bit. “You won’t say things that make you look a certain way, but you also won’t lie. So instead you rephrase them so they’re more befitting of a prick like you.”

Heimdall rolled his eyes and turned away. “Yes, it seems you have lost your mind.”

“It’s true!”

"Sure it is."

You snickered again, and Heimdall found himself smiling too. He looked away so you wouldn't see it. "What are you even doing out here anyway? Didn't you have something to do at the armory?"

Your smile faded. "How did—" you stopped, amusement returning. "That's right, 'it's your job,' of course."

"Now you're catching on. Better late than never, I suppose. But you dodged the question. Slacking, are we?"

"No, I'm going to do it, it's just reinforcing some of their gear with magic…I just…" you looked away, but not in time. Heimdall caught it in your eyes. 

He guffawed at you, loud and hard, reveling in the embarrassment he felt from you. "You don't know where it is?! After over two months in Asgard?" He took a few steps forward. Laughter wasn't enough to let out the burst of energy he had.

"Shut up! If you hadn't made your 'tour' so horrible I would know!"

He turned around, holding his arms out and still chuckling. "Oh, so it's my fault, is it?"

"Yes, it is! You were ordered to help me get familiar with the city, and that never happened!"

"Because you chose to refuse that service."

You threw your hands up in defeat. "We're never going to agree on how that day went."

That should have been the end of it. Heimdall could have left, got back to work, you'd get back to your lives. Yet he didn't. He stood there for a moment, the wheels in his mind turning. Then, without warning, he stepped onto the platform, brought a hand to his lips, and whistled. Then he willed a vortex of bifrost to appear on the sealed archway. A portal that Gulltoppr leapt out of.

"Leaving so soon?" You asked, not even paying attention to what he was doing as you tucked your flute back into its leather case.

"Yes, we both are."

You froze, then turned around in your seat. "What?"

"You don't know where the armory is, and the All-Father will not be pleased if I let you skip out on that for some flimsy excuse. So get on Gulltoppr." That much was true, but really he wasn't sure why he was so adamant to take this route. He could just give you directions and leave you to figure it out on your own, like he would with everyone else. Maybe it was the reminder of an unfinished duty that made him so willing.

You rose to your feet, the realization dawning on you. "Are you…volunteering to give me that tour now?"

Heimdall’s muscles seized up. He didn’t like the way you put it. "I won't ask again," he snapped.

You surprised him again, giggling as you approached the beast. "You and your special language again. Careful, Heimdall. At this rate I might start to think you actually like me."

Once more he smiled despite himself. "Insane and delusional. It's my lucky day." You shook your head at him as he effortlessly mounted Gulltoppr. You prepared to do the same. In the middle of raising your arms to reach up to the saddle you were stopped by a hand. Heimdall’s hand, reaching down to help you up. You looked up at him, trying to find out if he was planning on dropping you midway through, but there was no sign of mischief in his gaze. He was serious, and you wondered if he even noticed what he was offering. 

You chose not to question it, taking his hand.

He hoisted you up with ease, letting you settle into a side saddle position before he commanded Gulltoppr to head back into the Bifrost portal. 

To fill the silence on the way, you said, "You should probably show me the armory last. For convenience."

Heimdall scoffed, "Yes, of course. I do have common sense."

"Could have fooled me, what with the way you tried to get me to show that 'fire,' as you call it, by making me incredibly angry."

Heimdall only harrumphed, unwilling to admit that the incident was not his finest hour.

The tone was not nearly as tense as the first attempt. Pleasant, even. You surprised each other this time. You were happy to know that Heimdall was actually letting you speak freely and ask questions. To Heimdall’s delight, you actually had intelligent questions about the city, not the stupidly generic and obvious ones he expected.

You first passed the farming grounds at the edge of the wall, where buildings were sparse and goods to be traded were gathered and sorted. "It's clear Asgard is pretty self sufficient, so what would it trade resources for? Seems to me that it's unnecessary."

Heimdall liked that question in particular. He sat up straighter and puffed out his chest in pride. "You'd be right, there's very little we need from other realms. Just about everything is homemade. Really, the only thing we ask for when trading is labor and convenience."

"Labor, huh? There’s plenty of laborers in Gladsheim."

"Obviously, but outsourced labor is still an asset. Most of the resident servants were born into their positions, but the first of their lineage had to come from somewhere."

"And how were they chosen?"

He took off, explaining the entire history of the inhabitants of Gladsheim, and the process Odin used to choose them. Something about envoys being sent to realms when specific skills were necessary, passing some kind of test, swearing oaths to the Aesir…it was actually surprising that he knew every little detail of a process that was mostly defunct.

You then made the mistake of asking about the organization of the city when he introduced the sector that was reserved for Odin's governors and city officials that handled small manners on his behalf. He started from the very beginning, when Odin built the Great Lodge himself. Then how he divided the surrounding spaces between residents, assigning those spaces to specific purposes based on their proximity to the lodge. The wall caused some changes to that, limiting the space that could be used. He really did feel obligated to explain every last detail.

Most would have found it boring, but you didn’t really mind. After getting him talking he relaxed substantially. Even if the information was superfluous and at times uninteresting to you, you remained enthralled in the passion and pride in his voice and the, frankly, impressive amount of information he had about the city. He was quite the scholar when he stopped presenting himself as a know-it-all. Listening to him talk wasn't so bad when he really cared about the subject matter. You found the devoted love rooted in his knowledge quite endearing. His voice was rather nice and smooth too.

Heimdall almost sounded winded when he finally made it to present day affairs of city planning. You gave him a moment to add in any last minute details before moving on from the subject. "Where did you even learn all of this?"

"My personal studies. What others don't care to learn I treat as a requirement. Even though it should be for everyone."

"Hmm. Is beast taming part of your studies?" Gulltoppr let out a purr when you stroked his side.

Heimdall chuckled at the memory. "No, that's another kind of challenge I saw fit to take on myself. Gulltoppr here was always big for his kind, and excitable at that. None were able to tame his heated temperament. That is, until I came along to offer proper discipline."

"You mean you've never tamed another beast?"

"Well…there was a wyvern, once. Despite what others think they're very dumb. I passed it off to the Einherjar as soon as it was ready for combat."

"Aww, you got scared of a big bird?"

An annoyed sigh. "Do you really have any room to talk? I don't suppose you have tamed any beasts."

"I did, once."

"Really?"

"A falcon from Vanaheim. I found him when I was a teenager, after he injured his wing. I healed him and he stuck around after that. When he would go out to hunt I would follow him, and just watch him catch little critters."

Heimdall chuckled haughtily. "That's not beast taming."

You shrugged. "I guess not. It might even be more accurate to say I learned more from him. Birds from Vanaheim have beautiful songs. It was because of his chirps that I started singing more often."

Gulltoppr turned suddenly when an empty barrel rolled into the path, not close enough to cause concern but enough to startle him. You gripped Heimdall’s shirt for balance. He froze for a second. Your hands felt so warm on his sides, even though he couldn't even feel them through his layers of armor. 

You didn't let go when Gulltoppr was steady on his feet again and a servant retrieved the runaway barrel. Heimdall's throat went dry when he noticed. 

It was a bit warm out that day. That had to be it.

"Do you think Gulltoppr will meet a terrible fate because you tamed him?" Your question brought him back to reality.

"No. Why do you say that?"

A flat answer, no doubt or thought behind it. He was so certain, and you hoped he was right. "That falcon was eventually found by the elves. They believed it was a leftover 'gift' from Freyr. They sealed him up in a room full of food, jewels, fine drapery, treating him like he was the god that supposedly brought him there. He was so distraught at his fancy cage that he died not long after."

Heimdall grunted, sneering at the idea. "They didn't even let it die with honor." People dying in captivity, that was fine. Heimdall knew just about anyone deserved an end so terrible with how deceitful they were. Animals, however, were always clear and honest. There were no tricks or games they played, simply surviving the day. They were far more worthy of his respect than anything that could speak.

You sighed, patting Gulltoppr again. "No. But surely Gulltoppr will live valiantly until the end. Isn't that right, boy?"

"Don't coddle Gulltoppr. He's a well trained, highly intelligent, aggressive, and deadly war animal."

"Hmmm…he looks like a big fluff ball to me." You snickered while giving the beast another scratch.

Heimdall lectured you each time you did, but between those instances you both kept conversing, forgetting exactly what you were doing in the first place. You kept talking, completely neglecting the surroundings you wandered around without so much as an introduction. It was an exchange of stories. Heimdall mentioned how deplorable elven practices were, so rooted in blindly worshiping a god that stumbled into their home. You agreed, recalling a time you tricked the matron that raised you into believing you had found a stone that had Freyr's name written on it, just to see if you could. There was just a crack in it that vaguely resembled the first letter. You sloppily carved in the rest. Heimdall laughed heartily when you said that sandy rock still remained in one of the light elves' special vaults. Heimdall had a similar tale, this one from Baldur. The two gods weren't too far apart in age, but Heimdall was old enough to remember the latter's younger years. When he was around ten winters old he was determined to raise a lizard into a dragon, so certain that such a thing was possible from the fairy tales his mother told him. The boy sent fifteen lizards off the edge of the wall, commanding them to sprout wings and fly, before Heimdall was laughing too hard at the idiocy of it all to keep counting. You wheezed at that one, a story that most others thought was shameful of him. It was nice to have someone enjoy that experience with him.

Gulltoppr must have been more focused than the two riders on his back, arriving at the armory well after the sun reached its peak. 

You inspected the industrial workshop, a feeling of disappointment overcoming you. The ride had been more fun than you expected.

Heimdall instructed Gulltopper to sit, allowing you to slide off of the saddle without any trouble. The loss of your hand grasping his side was far more distinct than he liked. You turned around to look at him, smiling more than you had in days. Before he could stop himself, Heimdall returned the gesture.

Something shifted that day. Something between you changed. There was an acceptance of each other's characters, a mutual respect for one another after seeing each other at your worst and your best. A hint of trust was blooming, neither one having reason to return to antagonizing the other. It was a strange difference. Heimdall couldn't describe it as he rode away while you were escorted into the armory. He didn't know why it was so prominent in his mind. 

He was in such a good mood for the rest of the day. He didn't even notice that he smiled for a long time after you left.

#heimdall #heimdal god of war #gow heimdall #god of war #heimdall x reader #heimdall x oc #songbird of asgard

[dalekofchaos]

Marvel's Injustice.

My pitches for NRS inevitable Marvel game if they go the Injustice route.

Game titles

Marvel:Disassembled

Marvel:Dark Reign

Avengeance:Fall Of Midgard

Story ideas.

Scenario 1. Disassembled. Tony Stark's suit of armor around the world phase goes into complete and full effect. Get the right event to trigger it and I think Tony could be sent into Superman mode where he establishes a regime for the world’s protection. Tony takes full control of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the world by force. Captain America would rise up and lead a band full of heroes who are willing to do what's right and stop Tony Stark and the regime. Final boss fight. We choose between either Cap or Iron Man. If we choose Cap, then we fight Superior Iron Man, if we choose Iron Man, then Cap.

Scenario 2. Avengeance:Fall Of Midgard. human like Norman Osborn or Red Skull sneaking into Asgard with Loki’s help to kill Odin and Lady Sif. Events would manipulate the death of Jane Foster. Blaming Asgard and Midgard for not dealing with Loki and his associates for their many schemes, Thor decides to make changes. Thor is broken and the once Mighty son of Odin, turns back to his old ways and becomes a despotic king of Asgard. Thor wages war on Midgard. Years later Thor has taken over the entire world as well as Asgard, and rules it with an iron fist. Villains that don’t agree with him or opposes him are seen as threats are sent to the negative zone. All mutants are forced to register to work for the regime or be depowered permanently and imprisoned. Final boss fight is Odinforce Thor.

Scenario 3. Dark Reign. The Skrull Royal Family, escaping from the Mad Titan Thanos, strikes a deal with Norman Osborne to conquer Earth in a secret invasion. Queen Veranke of the Skrulls kidnaps and poses as the Scarlet Witch to destroy the Avengers from within. In the chaos, Norman betrays the aliens in order to get his hands on their technology. He is able to place his own Dark Avengers as the new Earth's Mightiest Heroes with the aid of Loki's illusions. Loki manipulates Norman to lead a siege of Asgard using advanced Skrull weapons. The Avengers must reunite along with new heroes to topple Osborne and Loki's Dark Reign once and for all. Post-Credits Scene: As Loki's manipulations come crashing down, he pulls a last ditch effort and influences the traumatized Wanda to use her reality-warping powers. He forces her to say the 3 words "No more heroes". Final boss fight. Iron Patriot.

Roster ideas:

Disassembled:

Stark Supremacy:

Iron Man

Reed Richards

Hank Pym

War Machine

Nick Fury

Mystique

Neutral:

Thor

The Hulk

Doctor Strange

Deadpool

The Punisher

Black Widow

The Thing

The Resistance:

Captain America

The Winter Soldier

Spider-Man

Black Panther

The X-Men(wolverine, Storm, Cyclops, Nightcrawler, Kitty and Rogue)

The Defenders

Hawkeye

Sue and Johnny Storm

Avengance:

Pro Regime: Thor, Captain Marvel, Iron Man, Punisher, Red Skull, Zemo, War Machine, Beta Ray Bill, Hela, Surtur, Enchantress, Doctor Doom, Killmonger, Namor, Maximus the Mad, and Ghost Rider

Anti Regime: Captain America, Fantastic Four, Black Panther, Hulk, Ant Man, Winter Soldier. The X Men, Valkyrie, Magneto, Inhumans, Heroes for hire, and Black Panther

Dark Reign:

Avengers

1 - Captain America

2 - Iron Man

3 - Thor

4 - Black Widow

5 - Hawkeye

6 - Scarlet Witch

Independent Heroes

7 - Wolverine

8 - Captain Marvel

9 - Spider-Man

10 - Black Panther

Fantastic Four

11 - Mr. Fantastic

12 - Invisible Woman

13 - The Thing

14 - The Human Torch

New Avengers

15 - Valkyrie

16 - Elektra

17 - Luke Cage

a - Hercules (premier skin for Ares)

Cabal

18 - Green Goblin

19 - Namor

20 - Dr. Doom

21 - Loki

22 - Doctor Octopus

Dark Avengers

23 - Venom

24 - Taskmaster

25 - Ares

26 - Songbird

27 - The Sentry

a - Symbiote (premier skin for Spider-Man)

b - Daken (premier skin for Wolverine)

c - Iron Patriot (premier skin for Iron Man)

d - Yelena (premier skin for Black Widow)

e - Moonstone (premier skin for Captain Marvel)

Villains

28 - Super Skrull

29 - Thanos (pre-order DLC)

DLC

1 - Vision

2 - Shang Chi

3 - Blade

4 - Moon Knight

5 - The Punisher

6 - Worldbreaker Hulk

7 - Hela

8 - Dr. Strange

9 - Daredevil

#Marvel #Injustice #Injustice Gods Among Us #Iron Man #Captain America #Thor Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Avengers #X Men #Fantastic 4 #Spider Man #Doctor Strange #Dark Avengers

[libraryleopard]

a list of my assorted fanmixes, mostly for my own organizational purposes

spring 2021 ricstar brainrot [rictor and shatterstar from x-men comics]

your song, your soul, your sera [sera and angela from the angela: asgard’s assassin/angela: queen of hel comics]

songs to lose my mcfreaking mind about illyana rasputin to [illyana rasputin from x-men comics]

there’s music in the stars. in my blood. [rachel summers from x-men comics]

it’s real madelyne pryor hours [madelyne pryor from x-men comics]

angsty chaos magic user [billy kaplan from young avenger comics]

trouble of the redheaded variety [elliot schafer from in other lands]

songs they should put in good omens season 2 [what is says on the tin]

maybe in another life [moiraine and siuan from amazon’s the wheel of time]

the language is leaving me [darby hart and bill farrah from a murder at the end of the world]

everyone’s favorite punk lesbian witch [sideways pike from h.a. clark’s scapegracers trilogy] (still a work-in-progress)

look like th’ innocent flower [lucy gray baird from the ballad of songbirds and snakes]

#i'd forgotten what i put as the cover of my madelyne pryor cover and being reminded did make me laugh #anyway a common theme is the marvel comics rabbit hole i went down during the pandemic i guess #contemplating making a playlist for polly from fire and hemlock but have not yet #lulu speaks #playlists

[feleshero]

The story of Dame Fel Noir begins as most stories do, with a few HYDRA goobers opening a 'small rift in time' to try and resurrect an alien dragon currently frozen in a glacier after a big slobberknocker with the God of Thunder.

Tasked with a 'favor' she couldn't refuse, Felicia and a few other members of 'New York's Superest' were flown out to Sweden to try and combat the emergent threat SHIELD had been too understaffed to deal with.

Felicia, Songbird, Clea Strange, Titania (Booo!), and Squirrel Girl were called together to go save the world in what Doreen went on to name 'Amazing Fantasy Team-Up'.

After six crappy hours spent trawling through HYDRA forces, bases & nonsense (Songbird & Titania tried to recruit her to help betray the sorceress and the squirrel. One of the squirrels overhead wrong, told Doreen, and a squabble broke out. Wasted a full twenty minutes of their time, and cost Felicia her beeper!) they finally entered HYDRA's main base of operations and found it.

Frozen in a block of ice, surrounded by a cage of lightning still roaring with enchantments older than most in the room (Clea was there.) It was a horrifying thing to look at. Teeth made for cracking planets, darkness clinging to it that ate the light around it... Eh, but it wasn't as bad as Fury said it would be. That was Felicia's opinion, anyway, considering the thing saved her life.

In the middle of having her skull caved in by Graviton, who HYDRA had on payroll specifically to use Felicia's head as a stress ball, the Spider had the brilliant idea to 'lean into' the beating. She swung herself, as hard as she could, into the base of the dragon's prison, crashing through to the darkness within.

The darkness protected her from dying. Before the ice could crush her, it lashed out and devoured her whole. And when it released her, Felicia was changed. Washed in the night sky, and charged by long burnt stars.

Nuit, that's what the voice within darkness called itself.

Merging with Felicia, Nuit helped her carve her way back through the ice toward the second half of the battle. Upon returning, Felicia carved through Graviton, literally. Tearing him in half with her bare hands while her allies tides' turned against the remaining forces.

The Amazing Fantasy Team-Up cleaned up what remained of the operation, Clea cast the Dragon to the halls of Asgard where the God that defeated it once could find what to do with it next. They all agreed that SHIELD wasn't meant to have this kind of power, considering this is what it had lead to.

All that remained of the dragon was with Felicia. Hidden away beneath her armor, her clothes, her skin. It accompanied her back to New York where, with their powers combined, the pair took on crime in New York with a reinvigorated passion.

#ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀsᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ; VERSES. #ʟᴏsᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ɴɪɢʜᴛʟᴇss ɴɪɢʜᴛ; DAME NOIR. #so here's the first part of how i'm feeling #the rest would be err ah... what happens after she loses the possession battle #but that's later. i've been writing this for like hours and it's not even that styling

[fandom]

2020′s Top Books

Fancy a trip? How about Cabeswater to Roshar, via the Grishaverse and Westeros?

Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling

Percy Jackson & the Olympians +1 by Rick Riordan

The Warrior Cats series -1 by Erin Hunter

The All for the Game series +2 by Nora Sakavic

Pride And Prejudice +3 by Jane Austen

Midnight Sun by Stephenie Meyer

The Secret History +10 by Donna Tartt

The Raven Cycle series +1 by Maggie Stiefvater

Carry On -4 by Rainbow Rowell

Six of Crows -3 by Leigh Bardugo

A Song of Ice and Fire -7 by George R. R. Martin

The Last Hours series by Cassandra Clare

Red, White, and Royal Blue +9 by Casey McQuiston

Captive Prince -4 by C. S. Pacat

Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer

The Silmarillion -2 by J. R. R. Tolkien

Wayward Son by Rainbow Rowell

A Court of Thorns and Roses series -6 by Sarah J. Maas

The Twilight Saga +1 by Stephenie Meyer

The Trials of Apollo series +4 by Rick Riordan

Call Down The Hawk by Maggie Stiefvater

The Song of Achilles +6 by Madeline Miller

The Outsiders -4 by S. E. Hinton

The Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

The Discworld series -10 by Terry Pratchett

The Folk of the Air series -14 by Holly Black

If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio

The Great Gatsby -6 F. Scott Fitzgerald

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare

Wings Of Fire -7 Tui T. Sutherland

Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard -7 by Rick Riordan

Throne Of Glass -19 by Sarah J. Maas

Crescent City by Sarah J. Maas

The Dark Artifices -15 by Cassandra Clare

Shadow And Bone by Leigh Bardugo

Romeo and Juliet -11 by William Shakespeare

Looking for Alaska by John Green

The Stormlight Archive series by Brandon Sanderson

The Animorphs series by Katherine Applegate & Michael Grant

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer

Valdemar by Mercedes Lackey

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Divergent by Veronica Roth

The Ballad Of Songbirds And Snakes by Suzanne Collins

The Mistborn series by Brandon Sanderson

Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard

The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last year.

#year in review #books #Harry Potter #Percy Jackson #Warrior Cats #AFTG #Pride And Prejudice #tumblr2020

[tarasmithshifts]

ᴛᴀʀᴀ'ꜱ ᴅʀ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

fame dr

hogwarts dr

marauders dr

small town dr (female)

90s fame dr

band and singer dr

dirty dancing dr

star wars dr

twilight dr

the matrix dr

the last of us dr

the kingsman dr

the hunger games dr

⤷ the ballad of songbirds and snakes dr

mcu drs

⤷ moon knight dr

⤷ spiderman dr

⤷ asgard dr

⤷ hydra dr

history of art dr

orchestra conductor dr

royal dr

lotr dr

princess mononoke dr

#reality shifting #shifting #dr #desired reality #shifting community #quantum jumping #shifttok #reality shifter