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I started the AI Heimdall voice🧍🏻

[thecastanova]

POV: You pretty much are very lonely and resort to fictional characters for comfort 🧍🏻

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These were a few lines I took from a Oneshot called 'In Time' which is a Yandere! Heimdall x Reader. I fell in love with the writing and I was going around yt one day and ran into an AI voice thingy and decided to do this. If it sounds choppy it's cause the AI voice is kinda wonky, and I had to cut and put together lines if I didn't think it sounds good. Anyways, enjoy 😭🧍🏻

Edit: I forgot to add the link to the oneshot!💔

https://ravenloop.tumblr.com/post/706021649636622336/in-time

[purringsquid]

Heimdall, Thor and Baldur grand adventure (a part of Heimdall x wife reader series)

Only first part of this is reader pov. But I encourage people who want to read about Heimdall and his brother (or just Heimdall with baby) to read it anyway.

When she is born, there is nothing but uncanny silence. Not cries, no cooing, no laugh of the Norns. Only Eir's heartbreaking pity:

"I’m sorry, my lady."

You take the little body from her, still warm and yet with no sign of life, red mark where the cord tangled around the small neck.

"Don't be." You whisper.

You place a kiss on her forehead and breathe life to her with your magic. There's no cry, when she opens her eyes and yet you feel relief - at least until you look carefully and see the hollowness her eyes possess. You could save a body but not the soul. That's giant magic - one that they never shared with others.

"Don't tell a word of this." You say to Eir.

And to your surprise she does not protest. "As you wish, my lady."

"Don't even think about it in front of my husband. Avoid his eyes when you can." You press her further.

"Lady Y/N," She hesitates. "He will know in time."

"I know this just.. be quiet until then, will you?" You cradle your child, pulling her close to your chest. Despite the tragedy of her birth, the love you feel for her is overwhelming.

"I will." Eir assures you, sadness never leaving her voice.

"You can let him in then." You smile, prompting her to do the same, she should at least pretend to be happy in front of others.

The door opens before she can touch the handle. A second more of waiting would have been too much for your husband, apparently. He doesn't even look at Eir, storming to your side. You can hear someone laughing at him from the door.

 You give him a smile, showing him your child. “It’s a girl.”

He looks at her with lifted browns. “Why is she ugly? That can’t be after me.”

For a moment you are not sure if he is being asshole on purpose or had never seen a newborn child before. Both were very possible.

“When was the last time you looked in a mirror?” You snap back. He can’t let you have a nice moment, can he? And yet you are secretly happy that he doesn’t see her lack of soul. You couldn’t care less that he is an asshole, as long as he doesn’t notice – as long as he doesn’t do anything to you or her.

After days of arguing you name her Bylgja after his dead aunt-mother. It amuses her, but you don’t tell your husband that – he still didn’t get used to you casually conversing with the dead.

Your choice of name does not amuse Odin, but he does allow it in the end. You have to argue with him over it. Heimdall would rather just choose a different name and sulk, then admit to his father he disagrees with him.

He often checks on her, even returns to your home while he is on patrol to do so. But if he notices that something is wrong, he does not say anything.

It takes him a month.

.

.

.

You wake up with the feeling that something is wrong. Your eyes shoot open, looking towards the crib. It’s empty and so is your husband’s side of the bed. But there’s someone else present. Since Bylgja was born the ghost of Heimdall’s aunt-mother – her namesake – had followed her everywhere, but now she stands here by your bed, along with the ghost of Odin’s first wife.

“Where’s she?” You ask them.

‘Heimdall-.’ One of them says. You wrap a coat around you, not bothering to dress up properly. ‘Odin-’ You had feared that answer. You hurry barefoot out of the cabin and the ghosts follow you, their words sounding after you. ‘Why would you not tell him?’ ‘Foolish, girl.’ ‘Odin will-’

“I know, shut up.” You curse having to live up on the wall, as you run down the hill faster than you ever did before, dirt and stones clinging to your feet.

“Y/N-“

Startled at the sight of you, Nana tries to stop you in front of the Great Lodge. You push her away, running through the door and further until you reach the All-Father’s study.

In the silence the Lodge provides in the night you can hear the voice of your husband. “-not cry and when I look in her future, I cannot see anything.”

You stop by the door, you had feared this day would come, but you never dared to think about it long enough to prepare yourself for it, because if you did, he might have noticed. You have no idea what you will say once you walk in.

“Of course, you can’t. The child has no soul, am I right, lass?” Odin raises his voice at the last sentence. “Come in.”

You open the door to the sight of the All-Father carrying your daughter and your husband, looking at you with a pained expression that soon turns to anger.

“What did you do?!”

He does not wait for you to answer and in a second he is at your side, his hands forcing your head up, so you have to look in his eyes. You try to push him off, but he won’t let you, his gaze shines with magic as he runs through your mind, forcing you to remember the giant's curse and the Norns’s prophecy, as well as your conversations with the All-Father.

All that you avoided thinking about so hard now flashes through your head. ‘The Norns also said that I will be cursed to give birth to a dead child-‘ ‘The child you carry shall be born dead-‘ ’There’s a way to save your child, but you would not like it-‘ ‘Only the Giants can tie a soul to a body. Ironic is it not-’ ‘I was afraid that it would either be the wedding or an execution-‘ ‘I’m sorry, my lady.’ ‘Don't tell a word of this.’

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” He pushes you away so hard you have to take a step back and your back hits the door.

“I didn’t want to hurt you!” You say the first thing that comes to your mind.

“Yeah, sorry if I don’t believe that.” You know that he’s still reading your mind, but clearly his anger is only allowing him to see what he wants to.

“And what do you believe? That I should have told you, so you finally have a reason to get rid of me? To be disowned and tossed away?!”

“You should not be lying to your husband!” He shouts, stepping closer to you, until he has you pinned to the door.

“Children-“ The All-Father makes a sorry attempt to stop you from waking up the entire lodge.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have married the goddess of secrecy if you didn’t want her to keep things from you!” You don’t know why you say that, it just slips from your mouth, while your mind spins around the fear of being separated from your child or worse - her being punished for your actions.

You don’t dodge when he hits you, just stay pinned to the door, hoping that his anger won’t spill over to your daughter. Tears run down your cheeks at the thought. “Heimdall-“

“Heimdall!” The All-Father says in a firm voice, he is still holding your daughter and you hope that he will take your side in this, since he had known, but he seems strangely indifferent to the situation and it crosses your mind that he might have been planning this all along. Just having you give birth and then let Heimdall do the rest.

Heimdall turns his head to his father. “You knew.”

“Yes.” Odin says matter-of-factly. “If you want to leave her do so, but don’t settle to mindless violence. I would expect that from Thor, but not you.”

You don’t even know what to say to Odin. This wouldn’t have happened if he did not send you to Svartalfheim in the first place! You look in Heimdall’s eyes as you think this. They are the last you see of Asgard before the ravens take you away.

_________________________________________________________

“Calmed down yet?”

The All-Father sounds disappointed, and in any other situation that would make Heimdall feel ashamed, but not now. Not when it turned out there was a whole conspiracy against him and his father was a part of it! Eir too!

“If not get out and return when you are.” The All-Father says, as he rocks the soulless baby in his arms.

Heimdall clenches his fists and takes a deep breath. He would not be kicked out for not controlling his emotions. He was not Thor. “I’m alright, All-Father.” He says through gritted teeth. It is not his right to question the All-Father, so he does not ask why he kept his daughter’s state from him for so long. “Is there something that can be done?”

“Yes.” The All-Father nods. “Take Baldur and track the Norns, Y/N had mentioned they had the answers, but refused to give them to her.”

Heimdall knows the door of the All-Father’s study will open, before they do and tries to avoid it by shouting: “Stay out of this, Thor. The clever people are talking.”

It does not help, the door opens anyway and Thor walks in.

“All-Father.” He says.

What follows next is the performance of the longest sentence Thor had ever said, as he insists on accompanying Heimdall and Baldur on their quest. Apparently, he had zero trust in leaving Heimdall’s own child with them and worse, the All-Father allows him to, despite the drunk just crawling his way back from the pub and insulting Heimdall’s parenting skills.

The All-Father returns Bylgja to Heimdall’s arms, before telling them that Niflheim would be the best place to start their search and sending them off to find Baldur.

.

.

.

“Between mother and Y/N, the All-Father seems to be pretty shitty at arranging marriages.” Baldur sees no seriousness in the situation, his mind filled with amusement that makes Heimdall’s skin crawl.

“Shut up.” He snaps, adjusting his hold on his daughter. Baldur is as always relishing in his invulnerability by pissing him off. He used to piss him off even when he was vulnerable, but lately it was getting unbearable. (He tried to fuck his wife on their wedding night for fuck's sake.) He ignores Baldur in favour of warning his other brother of the approaching enemy. “Thor! Ogre at your right!”

Thor throws his hammer, killing the ogre instantly. Of all the Realms the Norns had to choose the Niflheim to stay at this time. Heimdall hated Niflheim, the only realm worse than Niflheim was Helheim.

The moment Mjöllnir returns to Thor’s hand a pack of nightmares spawns around them.

Heimdall quickly realizes the struggle of fighting properly, while holding a newborn, so he uses his foresight to dodge their attacks instead (and Baldur’s attacks too, because he gives no shit about being careful not to hit his allies), cursing, as he tries and fails to draw his sword without nearly dropping his daughter.

Thor notices his struggle and chuckles. Asshole. “Need help?”

“No.” Heimdall snaps back, adjusting his hold on the child, as his brothers finish off the nightmares. He puts his hand under Bylgja’s chin as she throws up, then wipes it off in the snow, more grateful for his foresight now than he was during the whole war.

“You sure? I can tie her to your chest, so you don’t have to keep carrying her.” Thor insists.

It is a tempting offer but since Thor is the one who makes it, Heimdall has to refuse. “No.”

It takes being nearly hit by a revenant for him to see that, maybe, this little humiliation would be worth it in the long run. He foresees the attack, but the revenant is almost as quick as he is and he missteps while dodging it and it’s only Thor’s hand on his back that prevents him from falling down. No need to say that the whole thing is utterly embarrassing.

Baldur meanwhile laughs at the sight, as he sends a frost wave at the revenant. “I knew you liked blondes, Thor, but wow.”

“Hm.” Thor grunts.

While the revenant is distracted Heimdall pushes the child into Thor’s arms. He’s too slow to fight it anyway. “Here- careful.” He can’t say more, even though he has a speech ready, because he foresees another attack coming their direction.

He draws his sword to fend it off. It’s considerably easier when his arms are free and he is soon pushing the revenant back. Not that Baldur would let him have this victory alone - he jumps at the beast from behind ripping its arm off with his bare hands.

At any other time Heimdall would have let the revenant tear Baldur apart, but he does not want to waste time now, so he takes hold of the revenant’s other arm. Before he can rip it off too, Mjöllnir lands on the revenant’s head, killing it instantly.

“Hey! That was my kill!” Baldur shouts at Thor.

“Only because I held it back for you, baby.” Heimdall wipes off the little dirt that he allowed to land on his body.

“How far are they?” He asks Baldur, looking at his daughter in Thor’s arms, fucker can fit her in one hand, otherwise he would struggle with fighting as much as Heimdall did.

“You tell me, future-teller.”

Baldur has a good point but is still a swine. Heimdall looks in the nearest future and only sees more wandering in snow and fighting ogres. Also, Thor tying the baby to him while Baldur is having the time of his life watching them.

“Alright, Thor.” He bites down his embarrassment and reaches for his daughter. “I will need a little help here.”

“Took you long enough.” Thor comments, but leans down to wrap his waist band across Heimdall’s back and Bylgja in the front, pinning her to his chest, while Baldur is laughing and wiping off imaginary tears.

“Can’t you go tracking or something?” Heimdall barks at him.

“Nah, this is too much fun.” Baldur laughs. Heimdall is fully prepared to murder him as soon as he finally finds the Norns and he no longer needs him.

Within the next hour of wandering in the snow it is proven, that it is truly easier to fight off the spawn of Niflheim without having to keep holding Bylgja in his hands and that the humiliation was indeed worth it… Except Baldur’s taunts about it don’t stop coming until Thor threatens that he will tie him to a stone and throw him into the ocean for fish to nibble on. (He is surprisingly creative when it comes to violent threats.)

“She’s so damn silent.” Thor points out the obvious, he is not exactly known for his fast wits – hence why him being good at creative threats is so surprising. “If you jumped like that with Modi at your back, he would be screaming and biting.”

“You don’t say.” Heimdall rolls his eyes. “She’s nothing like your stupid sons.”

“So, you are telling me,” Thor says, “that she did not make a sound since her birth and it took you a month to realize she’s fucked up, because you thought your child is just so much better than others that she doesn’t cry?”

“Absolutely fucking not, what do you take me for!” Heimdall hates that Thor’s right, that’s about what happened.

“That’s so stupid of you, it’s cute.” Thor grins and Heimdall wants to murder him.

“Eat shit, Thor. I would love to see you noticing if Sif was feeding you lies.”

He ‘forgets’ to mention that a Wulver is about to jump on Thor. Grinning, as it bites to his arm, right before Thor smashes its head.

“Not to be interrupting your delicious argument.” Baldur reappears from his short tracking (and pouting) trip in an ice-filled gorge, that Heimdall really hopes is just another dead end. “But Thor is right on this one, Heimdall, you’re an idiot.”

For the lack of anything better, Heimdall throws a piece of ice on Baldur’s head. His brother doesn’t bother dodging, it hits his head and he continues talking as if he did not even notice. “The good news is we are close and that I take no fall damage.” He motions to the chasm. “You see that deliciously bottomless hole back there?”

The hole is very much an abyss, one that likely leads to the core of this realm and appears very dark and unfriendly. Heimdall is not keen on getting any close to it with a baby at his chest… nor without her in all honesty. He looks in the future just to see if Baldur is mistaken again and… he sees them meeting the Norns. Great.

“Fuck..”

“Fuck indeed.” Thor repeats. “But I want to see you make the jump.”

“You will.” Baldur says, turns around and runs forward the abyss.

They both stand still, waiting for him to jump inside and when he finally does, they don’t move either, as there’s a long pause and then – finally – the sound of his meat splashing on the ground.

In a moment of morbid curiosity, Heimdall walks to the abyss and looks down, he can’t see anything but darkness, unfortunately. Thor follows after him, doing the same. From the bottom Baldur makes a sound that Heimdall interprets as “I broke every single bone in my body, but I’m fine.”

“So, do you want to climb on my back or should I hold you bridal style?” Thor grins.

“I can make the climb.” Heimdall rolls his eyes.

He dodges as Thor tries to pick him up anyway.

“C’mon, I’m not waiting for your slow ass to climb down. Who knows how deep that hole is.”

“Yeah, hop on, golden boy, I’m not waiting for ya!” Baldur laughs from the abyss and Heimdall curses their godly senses. At this point he starting to think that he does not actually need a healthy baby. He could always pick up one of his human children if he wanted one – and it would be without all that humiliation.

“You know, if you weren’t holding that baby, I would hang you next to Mjöllnir and be over with it.” Thor reaches for him and Heimdall sighs, letting himself to be picked up.

“Those three cunts better have an answer worth all this.” For the sake of his daughter, he swallows up the humiliation and holds on Thor’s neck.

“Can’t you see if they do?” Thor asks, lifting his hammer.

“Not their words.” Heimdall snaps and that’s the last thing he does before Thor lifts them in the air.

When they land, he immediately jumps off, Thor and tries to wipe his stink off himself. Then kicks Baldur who is laying on the ground, laughing his broken ass off.

“You look truly beautiful together.” Baldur laughs, earning another kick to his stomach from Thor. “Ow, I aaalmost felt that.”

“Get your ass up. If you are a good boy, I will let you kill them after we are done.” Thor says, sounding uncannily too much like the All-Father. Then he turns to Heimdall. “How’s the girl?”

It only then occurs Heimdall that he could check on her - he does so just to find out she’s as blank as always. “Seems fine, only for the little detail of having no soul.” He says sarcastically. Then, thanks to his foresight, adds; “Don’t say it.”

Thor doesn’t listen. “Like my ex.”

“Feeling hilarious today, aren’t we? Let’s get this over with. Just pick him up, until he recovers.”

“Nah, I’m- hey!” Thor takes protesting Baldur by one of his twisted limbs and throws him at his hip. No need to say the sight satisfies Heimdall, after all the humiliation he was put through on their trip. For a good measure, Thor covers his mouth.

“Finally.”

They walk in silence from then. It is easy to find the Norns now, Baldur’s help is no longer needed. Heimdall sees the path in his future and follows their threads until they start dropping from the air and he and his brothers are overwhelmed by them.

“Want some mead before we go in?” Thor asks, drinking some himself. Heimdall does not need to look into his eyes to know his offer is driven by pity. It pisses him off.

“No.” He snaps. He does not wait for his brother to hide the bottle before entering the lair of the Norns.

“The sons of Odin, enter the home of the Norns.” Verðandi’s voice greets them.

Urðr’s voice follows. “You should be more specific, sister. Those are not his only sons – just the ones he had kept – for now.”

“Of course.” Verðandi answers. “His oldest – Thor, who slays at his command, Baldur – the son of Freya, who wished to defeat his fate, now cursed by her attempts. And Heimdall, the all-seeing god, who failed to foresee his firstborn’s death.”

“For someone who works with babies, you for sure are cunts.” Thor says and the (seemingly) youngest of the Norns appears behind them, mocking his words by saying them at the same time he does.

“He has so many questions he wants to ask, but he doesn’t dare to, so he insults us instead.” Verðandi says.

“I could know that myself-“ Heimdall speaks and is interrupted by Skuld’s mockery. “You little shit-“

“That’s how you sound.” Thor chuckles at Heimdall, his hand still covering Baldur’s mouth. “At least you know how shitty that feels now.”

Verðandi speaks before Heimdall can. “Intimidated by those who see further than him, he tries to scare his enemies into giving him his answers.”

“In all honesty,” Heimdall says, firmly, his words once again mirrored by Skuld “I’m not at all impressed by your demonstration of a short-distanced foresight and neither are my brothers.” Oh, how he hated to call them that aloud. Still, he gives the Norns his best smile. “So, if you may, tell us how to save my child and we will leave without doing you any harm.”

“We are not threatened by you, Heimdall Son of Odin.” Urðr says. “We know how this will end and so do you.”

They are right, he sees himself leaving with his child in his arms, as soulless as before, angry but not entirely dissatisfied. They will tell him what he wants to know.

“Then stop your games-“ This time when Skuld comes to mock his words, he catches her by her neck, cuffing her. The witch yelps, as he does so. Poor thing thought she could evade him. “And tell me how to save my child.” He nods to his brothers. “Or I let Baldur eat the little one.”

Baldur lets out a growl through Thor’s hand, confident in his new position of a rapid dog. Heimdall could see in his mind that he blamed the Norns for his blessing-curse as much as he did his mother and he was ready to charge at them as soon as Thor let him go. (And Thor saw it too, it was not that hard to guess, if you spent more than five minutes around Baldur.)

“You won’t kill her.” Urðr says.

“The sons of Odin have as little patience as the All-Father himself did, when he was young.” Verðandi appears as her sister vanishes. “But they won’t cause us harm, they are too loyal to their father and he is too scared of the future.”

“You won’t speak of the All-Father like this.” Heimdall says at the same time that Thor drops Baldur and he charges at the old woman, who disappears in a wave of threads.

“I’m holding her for you, idiot.” Heimdall and Skuld say at once. “Really? Still?” Again, she mocks him.

She dodges as Baldur tries to hit her face, making his fist shoot Heimdall’s direction, he too evades it, but has to move himself – and by that the witch in his hold - a step back. “Careful! Idiot!”

Verðandi shows again. “And while the young ones fight, the eldest brother takes the lead.”

“You know what we want, what do you want in return?” Ignoring her and his brothers, Thor walks forward where Urðr stood a moment ago.

“We want nothing from you.” Urðr appears before him. “But do you want what you ask of us? Does Heimdall truly want the reanimated child to live?”

“Yes!” This time his voice is joined by not only Skuld, but Thor too.

He has to dodge another attack that Baldur misplaces. Being at the edge of his patience limit, he throws Skuld at him. Leaving him to do as he pleases with her and moves to stand next to Thor.

“Here he comes, determined to get what he came for! Or to fulfil his father’s orders perhaps?” Verðandi says. “The big brother grunts in disappointment.”

Thor grunts and Heimdall speaks before he thinks, turning to Thor. “Disappointment-”

“Shut up.” Thor says to him and then turns to the Norns. “He wants it, so what can we do?” Heimdall looks in his mind and sees only that he does not wish for this sentence to be taken out of context - and a hint of worry that Thor has no right to feel.

“Tell me, Heimdall.” Urðr says. “Will you love the girl, even when she grows ugly? There are, after all, consequences for fiddling with the fate.”

“Will she?” He looks back at Urðr. “What consequences?”

Skuld repeats his words again, indicating that Baldur couldn’t pacify her even when Heimdall caught her for him. He is truly only useful for sniffing tracks.

“He will.” Thor answers for him again.

“So, determined. But we are asking Heimdall, Thor.” Urðr says.

Verðandi speaks before he can answer. “He lies, thinking he knows so much better than us.”  

“I will.” Heimdall doesn’t really care what he says to the Norns, he can see his own fate well enough.

“And if he doesn’t then I will, satisfied?” Thor adds (and Skuld repeats).

“Pff,” Heimdall scoffs. “You beat your sons from nightfall to dawn and then again. No, thank you.”

“Are you prepared to raise a child on your own then?” Urðr asks. “Or will you ask the All-Father to give you another wife? A new mother just like you had?”

That was a low blow.

“Sure, you can, Heimdall! What are the odds that the All-Father picks a child cursing cunt for the third time!“ Baldur joins them, his grin showing bloodied teeth. Heimdall does not look in his mind to see how he got them, neither he chooses to answer to him.

“I can work it out myself. Any other questions? A riddle perhaps? They suck, I always see the answer beforehand.” He notices that he had unconsciously covered the baby with both of his hands at some point, pressing her to his chest.

“Only the last one; What will you do when she grows up more powerful than the All-Father? When she chooses not to follow his orders? What will you do when we tell you, that she won’t be on your side during the Ragnarök?”

Heimdall is taken back because he did not foresee that, Thor does not answer for him neither.

“Stunned, he stands in silence.” Verðandi comments. “He never thought of his own this way, he does not dare to think outside his father’s wishes – or he might end up like Tyr he thinks.”

“Oh, shut up.” He is ready to charge at the witch, but she disappears before he draws his sword. “I- I will let the All-Father deal with it, the way he wishes to. Is that all?”

Thor only glares at him, Baldur laughs and says “Of course you will, pussy.” Heimdall punches him.

“Let it be then.” Urðr says. “You cannot save the child’s soul – you cannot save what never was. You can only get her a new one – and you will pick one of your other children for that, seeing no other as worthy. The child will die, but its soul will live like a god.”

“A shiver runs down the father’s body, as he listens, but he tries to think pragmatically of it.” Verðandi very much nails what happens inside Heimdall’s head, if only she would do that silently.

 “And how shall I anchor the soul in her body?” He asks. “That’s giant magic.”

“You will have to convince one to do it.”

 “He looks at his brother-“ Verðandi starts saying, only to be interrupted by Heimdall, whose patience finally ran out.

“Oh, will you shut up?!” He shouts, throwing is hands. “How am I supposed to find one?!”

“You will have to catch one on the Wall.” Urðr mocks him.

“Great, we are leaving.” Heimdall (and Skuld) say.

“He turns away, feeling angry, because it’s easier than to admit he is afraid. But he is not the only one with questions.” Verðandi says. “The oldest can swallow them and leave, long used to keeping his thoughts to himself, but the youngest – he will ask them.”

Thor indeed follows Heimdall’s lead. They can hear Baldur behind them. “How can I break my curse?” He asks.

“You will-“

They do not hear the answer, they walk away and don’t stop until they reach the place they started at, marked by Baldur’s blood on the ground. They wait for Baldur to finish his questioning – and maybe executing, neither of them really cared.

“You still don’t want mead?” Thor asks, untying the bottle from his belt and taking a long swing.

“Leave me some.” Heimdall says in defeat, reaching for the bottle.

Thor gives him the bottle with no other word and Heimdall finishes it off in one swing, although it was still half-full. From behind they can hear Baldur walking forward them.

“And then I thought you had left for the baby-murdering quest without me.” He laughs.

Heimdall throws the now empty bottle at him. “We should’ve just left you to rot here.”

“You should.” Baldur grins. “Oh wait, am I being too feeless?” Before he can say more, Thor grabs him by the head, breaking his neck in one swift move. Then he throws his body over his shoulder.

“Are you coming, or would you rather take the climb?” He asks Heimdall.

“I will climb.” He answers. “But I don’t need her for that.” He starts untying the cloth holding Bylgja and then hands her to Thor. “Take her to Asgard, I will be back with the soul soon.” He answers the question Thor was thinking, but did not (to his own luck) dare to ask.

Thor nods, swings Mjöllnir and flies away. Leaving Heimdall to his thoughts alone. He sighs and starts climbing, the abyss is so deep that he – with his sight – barely sees the exit. At least he has a time to think over his next actions. Acquiring the soul will be easy enough, but the only Giant he knew of that still remained outside Jötunheim was the very one that had cursed his child. Living giant anyway, maybe some of the dead ones could help?

To be continued.. I'm an attention whore who did not want to wait for posting. I'm not sure if this should be posted like this on Ao3 or two separate fics: Heimdall pov and reader pov, so people who don't like x reader can read the Odinsons adventure fic. Tell me your opinion..

[purringsquid]

Update shorted than I wanted to but whatever, Heimdall will have to shine in the next part. I'm short on time this week. Mostly reader adventure last part is Heimdall pov.

You appear in Midgard, dressed in nothing but a sleepshirt, a coat and a sheer rage. You are screaming until every animal within the forest runs away and your lungs don’t allow you to let out any more sound.

When you are done you look around, just to see Muninn, giving you as much of an unimpressed look as a raven is capable of. He motions for you to follow him and sets off. You do as he says because what else should you do?

He does not lead you far, only few meters out of the forest to a small meadow. In the middle of it, sticking from the ground is your spear. The raven lands on it. Its tip is still chopped, as you were too busy (and lazy) to fix it by now. (You did not think that Heimdall would allow you to get any close to a fight any time soon and yet…)

You close your hand around the spear, pulling it from the ground and as you do, Muninn flies up and caws loudly, alerting you of danger.

You turn around.

At the edge of the meadow stands a huge figure. The first thing that crosses your mind is that he is a giant. But that makes no sense, does it? How could that be possible? Then it hits you - the presence of the familiar spirit. You are not easily frightened, but when you feel Athena at the man’s back you are. A giant would be preferable to a god killer. But he does not strike you, actually he seems to relax as he sees you backing off.

You stare at each other, before he breaks the silence.  “Why do you scream?”

It takes you a while to get the message through is ungodly accent but then your mind makes a soft: Oh. Right. Makes sense.

You might as well tell him, because you are not capable of thinking of any believable lie at the moment. “My husband had just kicked me out to a foreign realm and kept our baby.” If you sound a bit hysteric, it’s because you are hysteric.

‘It is you.’ Athena’s spirit circles around you. ‘You should run – or you can try your luck and fight him, with my help you could even succeed.’ You can feel other spirits around him, pieces of gods and mortals alike, the most prominent ones are tied to his skin –but unlike the rest of them these are silent.

“You are a goddess.” He says and you feel a shiver run up your spine, so he knows.

“And you are the God-Killer.” You answer, hoping to let none of your fear show, but knowing that you fail, because your hands on the spear tremble and your voice jumps.

Your words seems to shock him and for a moment he seems almost ashamed. “I am.”

You watch him carefully, he closes his fists and opens them again, taking a deep breath. He is clearly holding back and you are not sure if you should run or that would just set him off. How is it that Baldur failed to track the guy, but the moment you appear at Midgard, he finds you?

“Leave here.” He says and suddenly all the spirits around him fall silent but for two.

You were wrong, the souls tied to his skin are not silent, they are weeping. “I plan to.”

“Good.”

“I just-“ Have nowhere to go. “You- you did not happen to meet-“ You cannot ask him if he knew where Freya is with Muninn at your ass, can you? “Do you know a way out of this realm?”

“No.” It was a longshot.

‘He does. It is near his home.’ Athena says. ‘He just does not want you there, he is scared that he won’t be able to hold back and will kill you.’ Good to know.

Once again, you stare at each other in silence. You are unsure what your next move should be. You could ask Athena if she knew where Freya was, but you have a feeling that he would not appreciate you talking randomly to someone he cannot hear.

“I cannot help you. Just leave.” The God-Killer says at last, there’s a hint of danger in his voice and you decide that actually, he is right, you should get the fuck away from him.

But you don’t feel like turning your back to him, neither. “Alright.” You step backwards, awkwardly. “Farewell, Ghost of Sparta.”

He does not seem to get the hint that he should leave, so you do the other best thing and turn away, running as fast as you can, hoping that Spartans don’t work the same way the dogs do and seeing your back won’t trigger his prey hunting response.

And the first lucky thing that happens to you today is that they in fact don’t and he lets you run away. But you give it a mile or so before slowing down, just to be sure.

When you finally stop your run-for-life, you realize that the damn bird is still following you.

“Fuck off.” You shout at Muninn. “Tell your master, he should fucking decide, if he wants me on Asgard or out of his sight!”

The bird gives you an annoyed caw and disappears. Letting you – finally – to at least attempt to find Freya. A task that is not as hard as you had feared. The eyes of the dead are everywhere and after a bit of asking, you are left with a somehow coherent directions: Hidden entrance, red leaves, giant turtle – it all makes sense.……..  None of that actually makes sense to you but there are plenty of ghosts ready to accompany you and show you the way in exchange for the slightest bit of attention you are willing to give them.

You let them lead you.

.

.

.

You climb through the hidden gate and just as they promised, you see a forest full of colour – not unlike the one of Vanaheim – filled with a presence of the Queen Goddess herself. And she has to feel you too because before you can get far, you see her approach.

Freya seems far from happy to see you in her Sanctuary, but does not refuse you right away either. “Y/N, was it?”

“Yes.” You nod.

“Do you come on his behalf?” She asks, although, it has to be obvious from your red eyes and overall state of underdress that this is not a diplomatic mission.

“No.” You can feel tears at your eyes again. “He kicked me out.”

She sights. “It had become a tradition, hadn’t it? Come along.” She beckons you.

As you walk, she lays a hand over your shoulder. You both stay silent. Her forest is stunning, it’s filled by a sense of peace for both the living creatures and the dead and-

Is that a huge turtle?

Freya seems amused, as you stare at the creature. She commands it to reveal her home to you and has to push you forward to make you move, because you are stuck in place, staring at the thing with your mouth agape.

“Sorry.” You mutter and follow her inside.

“Sit down.” She commands and you follow.

She sets a mug filled with something clear and – judging by the smell – highly alcoholic in front of you, while sipping from the other. “What happened?” She sits down herself.

Whatever the drink is, it’s so strong it burns your tongue. You struggle to let words out about what happened. Where do you even start? You settle on the main thing. “I had a baby, it was born dead, I reanimated it and Heimdall kicked me out with the All-Father’s blessings.”

“You married Heimdall?” Right, Freya might have known you were supposed to marry one of Odin’s sons, but she was already exiled, when it happened. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You give her a sad laugh. “That’s what Tyr said too.”

“And your child – he kept it.” She said, more seriously and with sympathy in her voice. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I-“ Tear falls down your eye. “Thank you.” On the next words you nearly stutter. “Is- Do you- Do you think he will be good to her? He is nice with Forseti.”

“Odin or Heimdall?” You can hear in her tone that both answers are a no.

“Odin..”

“He is a manipulative fuck.” She sights .” He was nice enough to Baldur, when he was a child, but as soon as they get attitude he shows what a cunt he is. You can only hope she is useful to him.”

That was harsh… but honest. “I see.”

You take another sip of the awful thing and so does she,… actually, judging by the taste of it, it might just be a pure alcohol. You sit in silence until she speaks.

“If I might change the topic for a moment, how is Baldur?” Of course, she would ask about her son.

“He married Nana soon after your exile.” You confirm what she probably already assumed.

“I’m glad. They had always loved each other.” She smiles but pours herself another drink.

“They have a son too. Five years old and already loves books. He will probably grow into a scholarly type, rather than a fighter, but neither Baldur nor Nana seem to care.”

“Thank you for telling me.” She says with a smile and then sighs. “Believe me, when I say, that you are better off without a man like Heimdall – if he hasn’t miraculously matured at least, which I doubt.”

You know she is trying to cheer you up, by gossiping about the man who hurt you and – yeah, you can do that. “No, he did not.”

“Of course, he didn’t. I’m sorry about your daughter though, she won’t have it easy, being raised by a man-child like him.” She seems to get stuck in thoughts before the sad smile returns to her lips. “And just between us, I believe he was given the Gjallarhorn and his praised guardian position only so Odin would have an excuse to get him out of the Lodge.”

You return her smile. “Yeah, I would believe that too.” You don’t mention that you got kicked out of the Lodge too, probably for similar reasons.

“He was like that even when he was small.” Freya rolls her eyes. “You wouldn’t believe how much pride could have fitted in that little body, it was unbearable.”

“You knew him as a child?” You ask, although you guess that the math adds up.

“Yes, he was still young when I married Odin. He would hide behind Tyr, scared of the evil Vanir goddess that Odin chose to marry instead of his mother- all nine of them.” The image is just as amusing as believable. “He had hated me for it.”

 “He was on the wedding?” That you did not know.

The look she gives you makes you regret asking. It’s a very of ‘mom who is mad at you’ look. “I figure you would not remember much of it.”

You feel blood pouring into your cheeks and it's not just due to the alcohol. “I do, I was just not.. interested in the Aeisir guests.”

“That’s a one way of putting I was too busy trying to fuck the bride’s brother.”

You giggle, feeling more blush heating up your face. “I have no regrets about that. He told me I can come back for more any time, you should've had seen his face when I actually did!”

“I can imagine it. “She says, unamused, and then her expression turns even more serious. “Speaking of Freyr. Where are you going after this? Home?” She asks, politely, making sure you know that you are not welcome to stay here. She had to take her diplomatic lessons from Sif.

“No, they were sure to tell me that after the marriage, I won’t be welcome back.” You sigh. “Everyone assumed that I will be kicked out at some point. I guess they were right.”

“I’m sorry.” Freya says but does not ask why, either out of politeness or she put two and two together. But you feel the need to explain anyway, she has some kind of motherly essence around her, that makes you want to spill all your feeling to her.

“I was prophesied to lose the child.”

“Oh.” She makes a noise of heartbreaking surprise, implying that she thought it was about your personality, rather than the circumstance of the birth of your child. Great. “But you do not plan to go back to Freyr, do you?”

“I-“ You did plan just that.

“You cannot!” She stands up. “You cannot endanger him! Promise me that you won’t!”

“I- why?” You are confused.

“Because he, set you up for this!” Not this again. “What do you think will happen when you get back to him! Odin will use your child as a leverage on you and through that Freyr! And he is too gentle to tell you to fuck off once that happens!”

You swallow. “You think Heimdall would allow for his child to be used that way?!”

“Yes, I do!” Freya walks around the table to you. “Let us be honest; For him there’s nothing more important than Odin’s approval.”

“But-“ She was right, wasn’t she? You don’t want to believe it but- You are crying.

“And he-“ She reaches for your chest, and tears the brooches off your coat. “Has put a tracking spell on you! Why do you think he would do that if he had planned to get rid of you?!”

You vaguely remember him casting some spell on them, but not caring at the time. It’s impossible that he had planned this since then, it was such a long time ago- It was not even a year. He could plan this for a year.

“Fuck.” You sob, hiding your face in your hands.

Freya throws the brooches into a fire, using her magic to make Odin’s spell melt along with them. It’s a waste, she could have probably just disenchanted them. But you don’t bring that up. When she is done she walks back to you and wraps your hands around you.

“I’m sorry, lass.”

You lean back on her, staying like that for a while. You are thinking of what you want to do now, since she made it clear, that she won’t let you stay with her- and honestly, you are not one for gardening anyway.

“If not returning to Freyr, I would search for the giant that had cursed my child. But-“

“He or she is on Vanaheim…” Freya finishes for you.

“She is…” You not.

And she curses. “Manipulative asshole he is...”

She lets go off you and instead wipes your tears. “I can’t let you stay here for long, but since you already found me, you can take a few days rest here.”

“Thank you.” You say and you mean it. Maybe you were harsh and misinterpreted her words at the beginning…

.

.

.

You stay only overnight. It gives you time to think about what Freya had said. Any way you look at it, you hate to admit that she is right. Odin had taken you in, because he had feared that your powers would end up in his enemies’ hands. When he realized that you are not as impressive as your predecessor was, he had no need to keep you.

You fucking hated prophecies. If only you were not prophesied to marry into Odin’s family, then your family would be nicer to you and you would not have felt the need to leave and live with Freyr. (Ironically, at the time you had thought that this was it – that Freyr was the part of Odin’s family you were to marry to.) And if you were not with Freyr when Odin exiled Freya, he would have felt no need to marry you to Heimdall.

If only the Norns kept their mouths shut, none of this would have happened…. Yeah, about the Norns. It’s not like they are the best people to help you find a path in your life, when you are lost (and you are currently very lost).

“Any ideas what you want to do next?” Freya asks.

You lift your head from the sad breakfast she gave you. The hangover is terrible. “Yes. I will find the Norns and ask them what else the fate has for me – and my daughter.”

She does not seem very pleased about your decision.

Completely ignoring your last bits of self-preservation instinct, you add. “That never fucked up anyone’s life, right?”

Freya gives you an unimpressed and very ‘disappointed mother ’look.

“Sorry.”

.

.

.

.

As much as you had wanted to avoid going back to the God-Killer’s territory, Freya agreed that this is the only place she knows of, where a gate to other realms might be. (Or more precisely, she told you she has no idea where any is and this one was worth the try.) It’s not like it would take you long, right? Just find the gate, jump in and be off before he finds you.

Or that was the plan. Right now, you are staring at a bunch of stones that are meant to be the gate and you are pretty sure that fate is just messing with you right now. You take a long swig of the awful alcohol Freya was willing to give you (along with some better clothes) on your way and start re-building the gate.

You barely reach one third of it, before hearing the awful hoarse voice that makes your spine shiver.

“I told you to leave.”

You jump, successfully destroying all your work. “I-“ You let out a high pitched noise. “Fuck.” You look between the God-Killer and the crumbling gate. “I just need to get through this gate!”

‘Pardon my language, little goddess, but you have successfully fucked up.’ Athena’s voice rings in your ear.

“Fuck.” You repeat.

‘You have no chance to survive this on your own, but with my help you might.’ Her spirit touches your hands and you can feel her trying to move them and worse she succeeds.

You jump, startled at the little movement she managed to get of your fingers. For a moment you forget about the God-Killer, your attention is fully focused on the dead goddess.

“Get away from me!” You step back from the spirit.

‘Don’t be stupid, you cannot fight him without me. Let me help you.’ You can feel her spirit getting closer. ‘We can stop his madness and after that, we can get you back to your child.’

She touches you again and you don’t hesitate, before drawing your spear and piercing it through her spirit. She lets you, likely believing that she could not be harmed anymore. “Follow my command. Disappear.” You chant in the old tongue, sending magic through your spear.

Two things happen at that moment, she shrieks and her form appears in front of you – you can for the first time, see the spirit you are talking to, hands tied to the spear that pierces her chest, gasping as if she was searching for air. Then she disappears again and so does her spirit.

“Athena.”

You turn to the God-Killer, tears of shock running down your cheeks. You don’t know what to expect from him and immediately think of the worst.

“What is this sorcery?” He demands to know.

At least he was not charging on you as the first thing and asking later. “I hear the dead.” You explain, hoping it’s enough.

He gives no answer.

“She tried to make me fight you- She- tried to possess me! She will return, it’s not permanent.” As you stutter, it hits you that not only you saw her, but he did too. Strange. But you do not try your luck by questioning him about it. “I need the gate built. Then I can leave. Please let me.”

“Hrm.” He grunts, looking at you like a hunter evaluating worth of a trophy. His gaze is too low to be looking at your face.

You look down on your chest, seeing stains over your breast. “Ah.” You turn away, drawing more fabric over them. At least he knows you did not lie about the child, you guess. “I will leave, I swear.”

He walks to you and you take another step back, holding your spear in front of you – the broken tip up, very threatening. He gives you one look over and then wraps his hand around the spear, lowering it. When you realize you should stab him it’s too late and he has a firm hold on it.

“Let me help.” He says and lets go of the spear.

“Okay.” You let out, keeping the weapon down. When he bends to pick the stone, what had happened finally clicks in your head and you put the spear away. Following his actions.

“There’s order to them.” You explain, showing him which stones to start with. He is better at it then you are.

______________________________________________________________

It is a night of the next day when he crawls out of the abyss and gets to Midgard and nearly morning when he finds the house - a pitiful cabin at the edge of a village full of even more pitiful mortals - and yet the woman inside it is quite the treasure… or at least a very good fuck if his memory serves him right. He does not remember her name, but he remembers the way she looked at him – with all the devotion and amazement, he deserved (unlike his wife).

He knocks on the door twice, both out of politeness and because – if he had to be honest – he doesn’t really want to do this. He will be telling the woman only a part of the truth – her child will go to Asgard to become a god.

The door does not open, so he opens it himself. It’s dark but he can see well enough - the woman, as pretty as he remembers her, is sitting on her bed, avoiding his gaze.

“I came for my child.” He says instead of a greeting.

“I know.” She still does not look at him, so he looks around the room, it’s not hard to find the cradle - the cabin has only one room – but as his eyes fall on it, he knows something is wrong.

“The Norns had warned me.” She says.

He turns his head and this time, she lets him look into her eyes. He doesn’t have to look in the cradle to know it is empty. Her mind is full of hatred for him.

‘She won’t live long, I’m afraid. Her father will come for her before a winter pass. She is designated to die by her parent’s hand. To bring his godly daughter to life.’

He sees her killing her own child out of spite, so he won’t be able to save his own – not just his own – his wife’s child. She was jealous, plain and simple and now his daughter is buried in her yard and he did not see that – because he did not think to look and check on the mortal, when there was a god-child on the way and the mother nearly died and-

He draws his sword.

[purringsquid]

short update since I deleted part of it by accident tw: dead children (souls in Hel)

“I need Baldur again!” He announces, appearing in the All-Father’s office. The All-Father is present and so is Nana and Sif, both cooing over his child. “Bitch had killed the baby, because the fucking Norns told her I would.”

Both of the women stare at him in shock, but the All-Father does not seem moved. “Take him then.” The All-Father waves his hand. “I will ask the Raven Keeper, if she can assist us with the anchoring of the soul.”

Sif looks annoyed and one look in her eyes tells Heimdall, that he had already made her take his daughter to Tyr and try to convince him to tell her the way to Jötunheim. He did not comply and revealed – to Heimdall’s utter annoyance – that he knew of the curse all along, as well that the All-Father will try this.

“That means you are leaving her here.” Sif says in a dangerously close to commanding voice.

“You don’t order me around!” Heimdall reminds her.

“Heimdall.” The All-Father sighs. “Leave the child here and go find Baldur.”

No need to say that Heimdall is not satisfied with the All-Father’s lack of reaction on Sif’s disrespect towards him. He gives him a bow. “Yes, All-Father.” Turns around and leaves the study with a scoff.

“Baldur!” He shouts to the corridor, when he is the mandatory two steps away from the All-Father’s door (also known as the respectable distance from it you should keep before being too loud).

“Yes?!” Baldur shouts back, instead of coming over to see what Heimdall (his elder) needs.

“Come over, you are going to Hel!”

“Because of your whelp?”

For fucks sake. “Yes! Now get your ass over here!”

“What’s the magic word?!”

Before Heimdall can tell him just what a little shit he is, the All-Father’s voice sounds from his study. “For fucks sake, Heimdall, you are two rooms away, just get there and stop shouting!”

“Yes, All-Father.” Heimdall says reflexively and then adds “Sorry, All-Father.” For a good measure.

He takes another two steps of respect away from the door. “Get your ass here or I will show you just how much you can actually feel!”

The door of the All-Father’s study opens and for a moment Heimdall is terrified that he had overstepped and will get punished for it but then he sees Nana coming out of the study instead of the All-Father himself. She heads straight to hers and Baldur’s room.

In a second Baldur is being pushed out of the said room, by his wife, amused, holding a pile of fabric in his hand. “I don’t care that you don’t feel, it’s still cold!” Nana says, throwing a cloak over his shoulders. Behind them, Forseti’s head peeks out of the room.

“Say please and we can go.” Baldur demands as he walks to Heimdall, putting on a shirt under his wife’s watch like the good dog he is. Heimdall did not see him wear a shirt since Frigg was exiled.

“Keep dreaming, those are All-Father’s orders.” Heimdall snaps.

“Yeah, should I go and ask him?”

“It’s his order, I was there.” Nana says, saving Heimdall a headache. She gives her husband a kiss on a cheek. “Now go, be a good brother for once.”

“I’m always a good brother.” He gives her lips a peck and both Heimdall and Forseti make a disgusted face at the sight.

.

.

.

Once they stand in the underworld Baldur stretches is arms, takes off his cloak and throws it at Heimdall. “Here, you need it more than I.”

Heimdall catches it, he does not need it either but leaving it here just because his brother is an idiot would be a needless waste. “One would think that you would appreciate having that one wife who is not an utter cunt.”

“She’s also the most ass-less.” Baldur says without a second thought and Heimdall nearly chokes, because his foresight was not enough preparation for hearing that. “Anyway, how do you think I’m supposed to find that thing?”

“You tell me, best tracker on Asgard.” He chooses not to comment on his attitude, because it would only lead to them fighting and he would like to avoid that before finding the soul.

“Alright, I guess I will use my best tracking skills on Asgard then.” Baldur rolls his eyes and walks forward the gate where he – shocking Heimdall for the second time in the last minute – asks the guard. “Excuse me, where do you keep the babies here?”

The guard gives him a very unimpressed look. It’s funny tho – not that Heimdall would ever admit that to his brother. Then the guard says, “Fuck off, mortal.”

They kill him.

“That did not work.” Baldur states the obvious. “We could kill someone with a baby and then follow them.”

Heimdall would much rather avoid that, as 1) that would mean waiting in the line 2) there was his ex who his just killed somewhere in that line and he did not want to see her ever again. He looks around hoping to see a dead child somewhere but has no luck.

“Let’s just go in and see from there.” He says.

They pass the gate and Heimdall takes approximately five awkward minutes before realizing that Baldur knows where he is going. He blames that on his lack of sleep these past days. If he was well rested he would totally notice sooner. Of course, he does not say anything but follows Baldur. Who does the talking for both of them.

“So, if we could find only one part of the soul, let's say the bottom and the top half, which one would you take?”

“The fuck does that even mean- Nevermind, don’t explain.”

_____________________________________________________________

You have only walked the crossroads between words three times before, each time accompanied by Freyr, two times to Alfheim, one time back. It seems like nothing had changed there, except for the silence.

That is until the spirit of Athena makes itself known. 'Why am I here?'

"You were impolite." You shrug. "So, I thought to show you just how much power I have over the dead." You actually did not think much at the time except maybe 'what the fuck?!' and 'Shit. Shit. Shiiit.' respectively. 

'You truly are a child, are you not?' She scoffs.

"If you need to know, I'm half a century old."

'Explains why you are still alive.'

"What do you mean?" 

'Like my father, Odin likely has a thing for pretty young things.' Ah.

"No, he just has a thing for exiling women. Also, it was my husband who did it. He, too, is young." You sigh. "And eager to prove himself to his father. I had hoped he will mature into his own will when we have a child, but alas."

‘Loyalty does not leave with age nor with children. I've given my life for my father and would do it again.’ Athena says.

"Sucks to be you." You shrug, brushing it off, but you know that Heimdall would too and it pains you.

'Some of s mature into loyalty.'

"And then die for it."

She does not answer to that and for a moment you wish for Heimdall to be here and see you overtalk a goddess of knowledge. What a flex that is. And a Greek one no less. But you had more things you wanted to get from her before releasing her.

“When I stabbed you, your form appeared. Is that something you do often?”

‘Not so much lately.’ She says. ‘But since you ask, you already know that it was not my magic that did that, was it?’

“If I knew, I would not have asked.” You say. “I’ve never done that before.”

‘Some gods gain power with time. Not me, I was born fully grown and wise, but half a century is not too late to gain new abilities – for a late bloomer.’

“Thanks, I already knew that.” In theory, you did, but your powers did not exactly come with a tutorial book that said what’s their ultimate form

You stop before the gate. “I hope you like cold and ogres. I don’t.”

_____________________________________________________________

They found the hall where the young souls rested. It looked… it’s not like anything in Hel was going to be cosy or nice. But it was not a pile of baby souls stacked on one another as Heimdall had expected, which was a start. It was a hall with baby souls stacked on one another. The biggest problem here was the huge bird siting on the top of it, overlooking the souls through the open roof.

Heimdall does not have to look at Baldur to know that he is excited. He is basically vibrating next to him. “Go for it.” He sighs. “If you get eaten, that’s on you. Just try to keep it up long enough for me to find the right soul, will you?”

“I will track it for you when I’m finished.” Baldur grins. “You can take a nap once you give up trying. I know how shitty your hide and seek skills are.” Heimdall had lost a single game to him when he was 12. Baldur wouldn’t let him live it up.

“Only when cheaters let their mother cast an invisibility spell on them.” He muttered.

“Excuses.” Baldur laughed. “Now hide.”

His last words were not just a friendly suggestion, Heimdall felt Baldur’s magic overtaking him. He looked at his hands just to see them disappear. Usually, he would rather die that to let his brother cast a spell on him, but he could make an exception for the sake of the task.

He waits a moment, as Baldur rans towards the bird screaming taunts. Then when he sees its eyes on him, he moves, entering the hall, just as the bird flies up and follows Baldur.

There are guards inside. He slays the first three with a single swing of his sword. Successfully alerting the rest of them. In response to the combat, the small souls start running away, some on their feet, some crawling. He could not care less, what he was looking for couldn’t do either.

He beheads a particularly foolish guard who charges on him headfirst, then lets Hofuð ran through another one – who does not learn from the first’s mistake – he uses the sword as a leverage, keeping the body up and using it to fend off arrows that fly his way.

Then he kicks the body away and runs toward the archers, before they can shoot again, cutting their heads off in one motion.

He laughs as they fall. It is way too easy. “You could have just given me my child.” He spots different archers, shooting their arrows his way and he easily fends them off with his sword. “But apparently you just crave to be reminded how death feels!”

He slays another guard who rans at him with a hammer, then another. At this point he just guesses that their brains had rotten away. He dodges more arrows, gets rid of more archers, until one particularly annoying one is left alone. She climbs up the wall to shoot at him, giving him no choice, but to follow her.

As he grasps one of the many alcoves decorating the walls to climb up his fingers brush on something fleshy.

A sound of cries fills the room as he does so.

He spares a look inside and then wipes off his hand - frantically.

The archer laughs and shoots at him again. He catches the arrow with ease, throwing it on the ground, before jumping off the wall, running closer to her position. She moves more upwards, waiting for him to climb up so she can go sideways again. But he is in no mood for a chase.

“Slow down!” He casts a spell, making her freeze in place before he jumps up and wraps a hand around her ankle, throwing her to the ground. He gives her just enough time to realize what had happened before stamping on her head and breaking her skull.

“Now.” He breaths harshly, looking around. The previously crowded room looks almost empty now – until you look too closely and see little head peaking here and there in the belief that not seeing equals not being seen. “I need an infant who died six months ago. Where will I find her?”

To his frustration none of the dead children answers. He grunts in annoyance and gets to the closest one, little less than two steps away under a table he can clearly see a glimpse of yellow tunic. He grabs it unceremoniously, pulling out a girl not much older than Forseti but considerably more dead.

“You heard me?” He pulls the girl into air by her shirt like a kitten. “Where will I find a six months dead infant?”

He can’t clearly see what the girl is thinking, either because she was dead or because she did not have a single thought. Both was possible, judging by the way she moves rapidly, trying to hit him with her little fists. “Let me go!”

“No.” He shakes her. “Answer my question first.”

“Never!” She takes a hold of his arm, digging her nails into his skin.

That’s enough for Heimdall, he slaps the girl’s cheek, making her stop instantly. Finally, she takes him seriously. “Where is she?”

“Down the hall!” The girl shivers and he drops her to the ground unceremoniously and without thanks.

The hall is huge and he gets nearly to the back of it until the alcoves are empty. Which itself is concerning. What will they do once its full? He stores that thought to the back of his mind for later, now he has to get the soul of his daughter.

He examines that wall properly. Each alcove has a name written on it in tiny letters, which would make his search much easier if he knew what the girl’s name was – if she even had any. He closes his eyes.

“Alright, lets name you.” This should not feel so easy. “Let’s say Astrid. Little dead Astrid, who will hopefully be a little less dead in a bit.”

He opens his eyes, it felt like it work, so hopefully it did. He starts examining the wall, name by name, Baldur better kill that damn bird, because distraction won’t cut this. He has no idea how far six months’ worth of dead infants could be and looking to the future only showed him more searching.

.

.

.

A screech sounds from the door and he turns his head.

A bird’s eye looks back at him, covering the whole entrance.

“Very funny, Baldur.” He rolls his eyes and turns back to the wall.

“You take too long!” The head is moved away and Baldur appears in the door, sprinting to his side. “Any close yet? Need my help?”

Heimdall stares at the wall. “Just found her, actually.”

There are two names under the alcove, a fresh groove reading Astrid and another older one. “Brunhilda. If that is not funny.”

He reaches inside with both his hands, pulling out a body much smaller than his soulless girl’s, when she was born. “Aren’t you a lucky dead mortal?” She is not very pleasant to look at after all the time down here, so he looks away.

Baldur reaches for her, his hand glowing with magic. Under his touch her body turns in a ball of glowing sparkles. “Here you go, a pocket sized baby. Looks better too.”

“Fuck you.” Heimdall catches the soul between his palms. “I don’t have pockets.”

“I do.” Baldur takes the soul from him and shoves it in a pocket at his waistband like that’s normal thing to do. (Maybe it is for witches like him, who knows, definitely not Heimdall...) “Let’s go.”

They only mange to get out of the hall and pass the body of the slain bird before they hear an ear tearing screech and shadow covers them.

[purringsquid]

It has been ten years but I have an update. How did this get 70 notes??? Heimdall and Baldur continue their Hel adventure, while you are having a great time with Athena.

­­­With a piercing screech, the Hel’s Eagle herself swoops down from the dark skies, aiming its talons directly at Heimdall and Baldur. They are quick to dodge, Baldur rolls to the side, while Heimdall gracefully side steps to safety… at least he tries to, the wind the Giant creates by her flight sweeps his feet from under him and he falls to the ground, being dragged across the dirt good few meters, before managing to regain his footing.

“Now this is a challenge! Come at me, Granny Hel!” Baldur is up and ready before Heimdall, shook from the fall, can barely remember his own name. He holds his arms open and inviting, waving at the Eagle, taunting her.

Hræsvelgr flies up, before descending again, flying right forward him, this time her blind eyes are locked on her target and she’s heading for a kill. Baldur laughs, he doesn't dodge this time, instead, he stands his ground and braces himself for the impact. The Eagle's talons sink deep into Baldur's chest, tearing flesh and drawing out blood, as he manically laughs.

Heimdall has no concern for his brother, he would have just left and let him enjoy the ludicrous fight, if only his daughter was not with the masochistic idiot. What he sees in the future brings chill to his spine.  “Baldur! The soul!” He shouts just as the Eagle’s beak heads for the pocket Baldur keeps his daughter in.

Not trusting his brother to protect the soul, Heimdall charges, drawing his sword, he runs it through the Eagle’s neck, just as Baldur pathetically fights off her beak with punches. He tries to cut through the neck, but Hræsvelgr twitches her head up and out of his reach, forcing Heimdall to take the sword out or risk losing it in her flesh (which would be the equivalent of having a toothpick in one’s neck – uncomfortable yes, but no reason to stop fighting).

Baldur, still impaled on the Eagle's talons, calls on his magic, a sharp glow comes from his palms and surrounds the talons, before exploding, Hræsvelgr roars in pain and let's go of him. Heimdall meanwhile takes advantage of her distraction and rans to her wing, he digs the blade deep into the flesh, using it to pull himself up and his other hand to grasp onto the feathers. He scrambles up towards her back and she notices him and tries to shake him off. He doesn’t let her.

Baldur – for once helpful – shoots more magic at her head.

“She’s about to set off!” He shouts at Baldur, warning him as he digs his sword deep into where her back and wing join. He was headed for the neck, but he really did not want to be brought to the air with her – unlike Baldur, he did take fall damage.

“Good flight!” Baldur shouts back and jumps forward the Eagle’s head.

Heimdall – though magically perceptive – doesn’t really see what Baldur does next. As Hræsvelgr tries to fly up, he jumps down her back, being thrown away by the flapping of her wings. Again, he is dragged across the ground, only managing to keep his hold on the sword by pure determination – determination that makes his wrist ache.

When he looks up, still on the ground and embarrassingly shaken, he realizes that whatever Baldur did, held the Eagle from flying up again and he was wresting her head with his bare hands. She was trying to pick him away with her talon’s but the position did not really allow her to do that. She turned around, falling to the side.

Heimdall charged, prepared to repeat the attack on her now exposed neck – but better this time.  With one swift motion, he plunges his sword into her, cutting through flesh and bone. The Eagle's body jerks violently, causing Baldur on the other side to laugh and Heimdall to nearly lose his grip on the sword.

They both forgot one little but very important detail: Hræsvelgr, The Hel’s Eagle, could not be killed, as she was already dead.

_________________________________________________________

It feels like you’ve been stuck here for days, of all the realms the Norns could’ve chosen they had to stay in the most deserted of all the realms. Niflheim sucked, and that was a lot to say from a woman who voluntarily worked in Helheim.

At least most of the local fauna leaves you alone, as the spell you use to survive the freezing temperature makes you appear dead to them. That does not include the ogres, though.

‘It pains me to see you lift the spear with such A lack of grace.’ Athena says as you use its bland side to smash the ogre’s head.

“I’m not exactly a front-line fighter.” You say, kicking the dying body. “My training ended the day I was considered good enough not to bring shame to my family.”

‘I would have been ashamed if you were of my kin.’ Athena says. ‘Your lack of skill brings me second-hand embarrassment.’

A sound of ear tearing roar stops you from answering, it is soon followed by a bigger ogre charging at you and you can’t help yourself but notice the similarities between the two – except this one being very clearly a female.

“If you have any tips.” You say to Athena. “I’ve just pissed off a one big mother.”

Athena sighs, as you dodge the rock the angry ogress threw at you. ‘I as well might, but do not get scared again.’ You feel her presence touch your hands as before on Midgard, forcing your fists to close tighter around the spear. ‘And try to think when you fight.’

She’s a bit of a bitch this spirit. Still, you let her guide your movement. The ogress roars again, this time with more anger than before. She charges at you, swinging a giant club. You sidestep the attack and jab at her with your spear, striking her in the shoulder. It does not help in calming her down.

‘How strong is that thing?’ Athena asks.

“Strong.” You answer, panting.

The ogress swings her club at you again and Athena directs you to duck under the attack and sweep her legs out from under her, sending her crashing to the ground. As the ogress falls, you quickly use your spear to pin her down.

‘No.’ Athena says just as the ogress grips the spear. ‘Your lack of wit pains me.’

“Fuck.” You curse, jumping back from her, leaving the weapon there.

‘You are so stupid, it’s unbelievable.’

 You ignore Athena, casting a spell on the ogress. “Freeze!” and then another, “Slow down!”. The ogress is stuck for a moment and you turn to the dead ogre, chanting one of the longer spells. “Death, I call on you..”

You try to say its name and fail the first time, it seems to trigger the ogress who struggles in the hold of your spell, until she finally breaks it and crawls on her feet, ready to charge. Athena warns you, tells you to run, but you don’t listen, continuing your spell.

 “Come back and serve me in death.”

The lesser ogre rises, attacking the other just as it’s about to charge at you, the ogress screams and swings the club at it. If she still recognizes her cub, she doesn’t show it.

"Freeze!" You shoot the spell at the ogress, allowing the undead ogre to smash her to pieces. Then you release it and it falls back to the ground, right next to the corpse of its mother.

'’Not exactly a front-line fighter’. I understand now. You have your uses in a fight – if someone is there to give you orders and guard you. Relying on always having something to distract enemies with is foolish. The beast had known better than to let you charge your spell. Any smarter enemy would slay you.'

"I know." You admit. "I might have married an Aesir, but I’m not one of them. I’m not born and raised to be a fighter.”

‘Exiling you then, was just delayed execution.’

“Hey, it’s not that bad.”

‘You are incredibly short-sighted, no wonder they did not want you to raise your own child.”

“Get lost.” You send her away with a spell – but you do not release her just yet.

[purringsquid]

We are nearing the end of this arc... TW: violence and vore and overall it's a bit horror like

Heimdall takes a deep breath, feeling his muscles scream in protest as he charges for what feels like the thousandth time towards the giant bird. Baldur is a blur of motion beside him, his magic flaring to life as he hurls bolts of ice at her. They dash forward, one from each side, hitting her at the same time.

The Eagle lets out a roar of pain, but she doesn't falter. Instead, she spins around, her wings battering Heimdall and sending him crashing to the ground. It is only because of Baldur’s quick reaction that he is not pierced by her beak – not that Heimdall would ever admit that.

“Tired yet, brother?” Baldur laughs, mockingly.

It’s true that Heimdall may be a little tired by now. It’s no shame, really, unlike the fucking bird he is alive and unlike Baldur he has no magic preventing him from feeling anything. Heimdall crawls back at his feet as Baldur wrestles the Eagle’s head, giving him time to escape.

With a flick of his wrist, Baldur unleashes his magic towards the bird as soon as Heimdall is out of the harm’s way. Flames engulf her, her feathers smouldering, but even as her feathers burn, she refuses to give up. Jerking her head, she throws Baldur to the side.

“Give me the soul!” Heimdall shouts, as he casts a spell, making Hræsvelgr slow down enough for Baldur to get his sorry ass up and dodge her attack.

“So, you can run and let me have all the fun?” Baldur laughs.

“Just to it!”

Heimdall’s heart races as he watches Baldur rip open the pocket containing the soul. As Heimdall reaches for it, the bird charges at them.

Heimdall foresees a future where she manages to take the soul away from Baldur and reacts on instinct, hurling himself at Baldur and knocking him aside just as the bird's talons reach where he had been standing a moment before – which is exactly where Heimdall himself now stands.

To his shame he lets out a screech of pain, as the talons tear into his flesh, piercing his chest. He had not felt pain in decades and this one is not on the light side. Hræsvelgr is not interested in him, however. She could have torn him apart but she tosses him away, instead, sending him rolling across the ground, leaving a bloody trail behind him.

He grits his teeth, he has no choice but to stay down while he heals the worst of his wounds, he can’t properly move, his body is reeling from the attack. When he looks up Baldur is on his knees, clutching the soul to his chest, as he chants a protective spell – something Heimdall did not see him do in a very long time.

But it works in fending off the bird – an invisible barrier is holding her talon’s back. Heimdall watches as Hræsvelgr claws on Baldur, who – to his credit – is doing his best to protect the soul. But his barrier can’t last forever.

“Baldur! Fuck-!” He gasps, the wounds in his chest barely allow for any sound to come out of his mouth. “Don’t-“

Baldur tears open the pocket, but before he can do more, Hræsvelgr breaks his barrier and grabs him with her talons. Heimdall wants to help, but his body refuses to obey him. He can only watch as Baldur does his maddest stunt yet – he pushes the soul of Heimdall’s daughter to his mouth and swallowed.

The bird lets out an angry shriek. She tears at Baldur's chest with her talons, trying to rip him open. He only laughs at her attempts to get the soul out of him, the flesh heals back all too quickly for her to reach it.

Heimdall does not laugh, as he sees in Hræsvelgr’s eye her intent. “Run! Baldur!” His voice had recovered, and he uses it instantly. “She will-“

It is too late, however, Baldur’s laugh turns into a scream of shock as the Hel’s Eagle opens her beak and swallows him whole.

“No!” Heimdall tries to get up, but his limbs don’t listen to him. So, he shouts at the bird from the ground. “We’re the sons of Odin! Let him go!”

The bird turns to him and he sees in her eyes that she is considering whenever she should eat him too. For a moment – a moment that he fully blames on the loss of blood clouding his mind – he believes that she actually might.

“YOU HAVE KILLED MY CHILD, IT’S ONLY FAIR I TAKE YOURS.” If Thor’s angry voice sounded like a thunder hers sounded like the whistle of a frozen wind against the windows. Had he not been a god, he would have been deaf before her sentence was finished.

He knows how pathetic he must look like, arguing with her while bleeding out on the ground, unable to get up. But he still does. “You are a servant of the All-Father! You must obey his wishes!”

“DEATH SERVES NO ONE, LITTLE GOD. YOU WILL ALL MEET ME ONE DAY.”

He cannot not stand yet, but he had healed enough to pull himself on his hands and knees and he does so. He gives her the best threatening look he can manage from that position.  “How dare you insult us!”

Hræsvelgr lets out a high pinched sound, at best it is her version of a scoff, at worst (and likely) she laughs at Heimdall.

“YOU INSULT ME, SCION OF THE AESIR. YOU INVADED MY HOME AND TRIED TO STEAL FROM ME. IT IS ONLY JUST THAT I TAKE SOMETHING FROM YOU.”

“No, it’s not! Fuck you!” The tiredness in combination with a blood loss are getting to him, significantly limiting his vocabulary.

“BUT IF YOU ARE WILLING TO MAKE A DEAL WITH ME, I WILL LET YOUR BROTHER AND THE SOUL GO.”

Heimdall grits his teeth. If there was a way to 1. Survive this 2. Not having to explain what had happened to the All-Father, he might be willing to take any (reasonable)deal. “I’m listening.” He is finally healed enough to stand up and he does so, although it hurt.

“THE HEL WILL BE FILLED SOON. THE RAGNAROK IS NEARING AND I AM TIRED OF THIS WORLD. AT THE END OF TIMES, I WANT TO BE FREE. PROMISE ME TO BRING YOUR CHILD TO ME, WHEN SHE COMES OF AGE, TO TAKE MY POSITION AS THE QUEEN OF HEL AND I WILL GIVE HER TO YOU.”             

There is no way he could take this deal without having to explain it to the All-Father.

There’s no way he could take this deal without consulting the All-Father first.

His wife would.

He is not his wife.

He doesn’t have a wife anymore.

________________________________________________________

"You enter the home of the Norns, come in, you know the thrill by now, you've been here before. You bring an honoured guest with you. A dead goddess of a foreign world.”

Verðandi announces your presence, as you pass through the hanging threads.

“What a pleasure to meet you, Athena of Olympus." ­­­Urðr says.

'Just like the Fates of my world, they show off their powers. Be careful, girl, their answers might bring you only despair.'

"Norns." You greet them, Skuld appears behind you, mocking your words. You ignore her. "It has been some time."

"Time matters little to us, lass." ­­­Urðr answers.

"You missed my daughter’s birth."

"You know we do not come to bless dead children, Y/N. Just as you know that we don't control the fate."

"I'm not here to beg you to change her destiny." Again, Skold appears to repeat your words. You ignore her.  "I'm here to ask what's next for me and my child. I brought you a gift." The Norns cannot be bribed but they appreciate an offering, if one knows better than to demand a favour for it.

“You reach to your belt, you offer us a half drank bottle, it is a pitiful offering, but it is the best you have.” Verðandi comments on your actions.

­­­Urðr laughs as she appears, holding her hand up to accept the bottle. "At least you know your manners. Your husband does not."

"My husband? He was here?" You ask and although it’s freezing down here, sweat runs down your forehead.

"He came here with his brothers and your child, trying to threaten us into giving them the answers they would like to hear."

"You feel chill run up your spine.” Verðandi says. “You want to ask what they had learnt. But you don’t need to know that, you already know what they will do."

"Tell me.” Your voice cracks as you demand to know what fate awaits your daughter. “Tell me what you told them.”

­­‘Wrong question.’ Athena says. ‘Ask what they plan to do with the knowledge.”

“Tell me what they plan to do with that knowledge.”

“Do not let others dictate your words, lass.” ­­­Urðr scolds you. “They learnt what you already knew, that they need a soul for your child to grow and that only a giant could truly anchor it to her body.”

“But what will they do?” Athena was right to ask that, it’s what’s important, although you have a feeling that you already know the answer. There are no giants left, but Odin has an acolyte of similar powers.

“You ask, but you already know.” Verðandi confirms your fears. “You are holding back the questions which you truly want to ask.”

She’s right, you do. You wish to ask whose soul they will put in your child’s body, but at the same time you don’t want to know. You want to know what happens if the Raven Keeper is the one to do it – but you already know that too. You’ve spent hours arguing with her over it.

“I know what abilities the Raven Keeper has.” You say. “And that she cannot truly anchor a soul to a body. So, tell me, will my daughter ever be truly cured? You speak of giant magic. Is there a giant that would help her?”

­­­Urðr laughs. “You won’t like the answer, lass.”

“I don’t care, I just want my daughter safe.”

“Your daughter’s soul will be fully anchored to her body.” ­­­Urðr says. “By a champion of the Giants – child of Laufey the Just.”

You stand still.

“You should not feel cold and yet, you tremble.” Verðandi says. “The foreign goddess was right, to you our answers might only bring despair.”

“If you are willing to give up your revenge for the sake of your daughter.” ­­­Urðr says. “Head to Vanaheim and be swift, you are not the only one looking for her there.”

At last they gave you what you came here for: a direction. “Thank you.”

You would have left with these answers, but ­­­Urðr’s voice stops you. “You’ve not stopped your offerings, when you had failed to learn what you wanted to hear the first time you visited us. You have earned something in return for your loyalty.”

“You misunderstand our words.” Verðandi’s says.

Skuld appears in front of you, taking your hands in hers and pushing something between them.  You close your hands around the thing. It’s a small ball – a marble. For the first time Skuld says something that is not a mockery of your own words. “The child was not yet born and Laufey is eager to avenge her people.”

“Just like you, she does not know when the fight is over.” ­­­Urðr adds.

You wait if there’s something more they have to say, but there’s not.

“Thank you.” You say with all the honestly you are capable of.

[purringsquid]

It has been ten thousand years but here's an update

"Hræsvelgr." The All-Father greets the cursed bird, "care to explain why you swallowed my son?"

"I DO." The bird sounds.. amused? Heimdall can't read her mind through her blind eyes, it pisses him off. "YOUR SONS CAME HERE TO STEAL. THEY KILLED MY FLEDGLING. I COULD NOT STAND SUCH DISRESPECT."

"The boys," Heimdall grits his teeth when Odin says that. He is no boy. "came here at MY order. You and your fledgling had no right to disturb their mission."

Again, that horrible sound. Heimdall is now sure that this is the bird laughing. Laughing at the All-Father.

"NO ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO OPPOSE DEATH, NOT EVEN YOU, ALL-FATHER."

All-Father clicks his tongue, his rage is about to make itself known, Heimdall knows. He can't help it but twitch as he raises his voice. "Be careful, Hræsvelgr, you might think yourself invincible for defeating my youngest, but you know that I can do better than that."

"I GAVE THEM AN OFFER. RETURN THE GIRL TO ME WHEN SHE'S GROWN TO TAKE MY PLACE AS THE QUEEN OF HEL AND I WILL LET HER AND YOUR SON GO." Hræsvelgr doesn't blink at the All-Father's threat, (metaphorically, she has no need to blink).

The All-Father frowns, but not as if he was angry, Heimdall knows that look, he is thinking. For sure he is not considering the offer. Heimdall can't help it but look into the All-Father's mind to be sure.

And he does not like what he sees.

The All-Father of course, notices him reading his mind and gives him a look that promises it will be addressed later. Any other time, Heimdall would be ashamed for disrespecting his father, but not now. Now he had more to fear for than just himself.

"Very well." The All-Father says. "I will ignore your disrespect, this once and accept your offer. You will get the girl once I see fit for her to take your place."

"All-Father-" Heimdall gasps, but is stopped by Odin lifting his hand, gesturing for him to shut up.

"Now. My son."

"AS YOU WISH."

The bird starts shaking and then opens its beak, a loud disgusting sound comes out of it and Heimdall fights the urge to cover his ears. Then, she starts casting, a thick black liquid flows out of her beak and after that something bigger and very much alive comes out.

Baldur hits the ground with a wet splash, he is covered in the black substance and looks very pissed off, (because of course he does.) "Really?!" He wipes his eyes, looking around, disoriented. "I thought- I had hoped this was finally it! That I-"

"Baldur, shut up." The All-Father says. "Come here."

Baldur crawls up on his feet and obeys, as soon as he is at arm’s reach, Odin backhands him. "Idiot. I should've let your mother have you." The slap was performative, just to brush the inch of wanting to physically punish him. But his words hurt Baldur, Heimdall could see. He laughed.

He stopped laughing when the All-Father's hand landed on his cheek. He had no idea how he failed to foresee that. The disgusting black liquid that previously stained Baldur's cheek now spread on his. "And you should've been smarter and watch your brother's back! Do I really need to send Thor everywhere with you to babysit?!"

Heimdall brushed his burning cheek with his sleeve, he felt tears at his eyes. It was starting to be too much for him... all of it.

.

.

.

They went straight to the Raven Tree. Heimdall would never admit it aloud, but that place made him uncomfortable, especially after becoming a father. He is surprised to see Sif already there, holding his daughter, talking to the Raven Keeper herself.

"My lord." The Raven Keeper bows. "I will do all I can to save your grandchild."

All-Father waves her off. "I know."

"Now where's the soul?" The Raven Keeper asks.

Heimdall looks at Baldur.

"I ate it."

It is remarkable that no one, not even Sif, seems any surprised at the declaration. She just gives him a look of disappointment and adjusts her hold on his daughter.

"Well, then-" The Raven Keeper speaks, but is disturbed by Baldur.

"I can't puke it out, I tried." He lifts his hands up in defensive gesture. "No choking reflex. And cutting it out won't work either."

The Raven Keeper walks to Baldur, her eyes inspecting him. "Well then. If you allow me, my lord, I will retrieve it." She says sternly. "Unless you want someone else to do it."

Heimdall would absolutely not be that person and by what he read in Sif's mind and on All-Father's face, nor would they. Luckily for them, Baldur seems to come to the same conclusion because he says, "Nah, go on, creepy."

The Raven Keeper smiles, it’s not a nice smile to look at. "Well, then. Open wide."

Foreseeing it was not enough to prepare Heimdall for seeing her stick her bony arm in his brother’s mouth and push it down to her elbow and further. And yet, a morbid fascination does not allow him to look away.

"Gross." He says, watching the Raven Keeper's arm disappear deeper into Baldur's throat. He can hear a faint squelching sound, that nearly makes him gag. It's utterly disgusting. Yet he keeps staring at the Raven Keeper as she wriggles her arm inside Baldur's mouth.

After what seems like an eternity, the Raven Keeper withdraws her arm, her fingers closed around the handful of glowing orbs that are his daughter’s soul. She presents it to the All-Father with a deep bow. "The soul of your grandchild, my lord."

Odin does not seem in the slightest impressed by it, he merely nods. "Go on."

She takes his child from Sif and is about to place her on a bare ground before Sif steps in, making her lay a blanket under it first. He watches, as she sits cross-legged next to it, not daring to look away when that being – as loyal as she is to the All-Father, holds his baby. Then, she looks back at him, their eyes meeting, her mind is a dreadful place. She beckons him to come closer. “I need the father’s blood.” Of course, she does. Ew.

“Wait. Before we do this. I need to speak with you, All-Father. About something the Norns had said.”

The All-Father scoffs but indulges him. Heimdall keeps his voice low, as he tells him of the Norns’ warnings. “The Norns, they had warned me, that during the Ragnarök, my daughter might not stand on the side of Asgard. Said that she will be powerful, that-” It’s hard to let out something so blasphemous and yet, he cannot keep this from his father, not when she could be a potential danger to Asgard.  “You might fear her power, All-Father.”

The All-Father seems puzzled and Heimdall has to resist the urge to look into his mind. He is afraid, afraid that after all of this, he won’t be allowed to save his child. After a moment of tension which threatens to rip Heimdall apart the All-Father smiles and pats Heimdall’s cheek. “Don’t worry about what the old spinsters say, I will be only happy to finally have a useful grandchild.”

Behind them, Baldur scoffs and Sif fights the urge to glare daggers at the All-Father. Their anger makes Heimdall amused and by that, calmer. “Thank you, All-Father.” He sits across from the Raven Keeper, allowing her to draw blood from his hand. He holds back a cringe as she cuts him, but fails to hold it when she stabs a needle into his daughter’s skin.

____________________________________________________________

The path to Vanaheim is faster than the one to the Norns. Something you are grateful for, you had missed the sun. You go to the first village you see, happy to find a kitchen open for those who had to leave their home because of the war. They serve shaved brussels sprouts, which you would have politely refused any other day, but after more than a week spend in Niflheim, you cram them with in a rather un-lady-like manner.

As you eat, you decide it’s about a right time to examine the orb the Norns gave you or – after you take it in your hand – marble is a better word. You are surprised to feel Athena’s presence near you out of sudden, likely interested in the gift.

‘I feel a presence there.’ She says.

“So do I.” You answer, quietly, not to bring up too much attention to yourself. You put the marble to your forehead to feel it properly. “It’s giant magic. A soul is trapped there.”

‘Can you free it?’

“I don’t know. Why are you so interested out of sudden?”

Athena lets out an amused scoff. ‘We have no such magic on the Olympus. I want to know more of it. I want to learn.”

Her honesty makes the corners of your lips turn up. “Goddess of Knowledge.” You whisper with a smile.

‘You can try to use the spear of yours.’ She proposes.

“As in destroy it?” You raise your brows and she sighs.

‘No. I have a suspicion that it might hold more power than you have.’

Now you are just confused. “What do you mean?”

‘You said that it’s made out of the bones of a goddess before you. It might hold some of her powers. I think that this is how you had managed to bind me, after all, you said you did not know you had such ability before.’

You think about it. You have heard about objects holding a magic power, but you had the spear your whole life and this was the first time something like this had happened. Also, the giantess it’s made of was not a goddess, as long as you know. (Or was she?)  Still, you pick up the spear.

‘Channel your power through it.’ Athena advises.

“I know!” You snap back, trying to focus.

You lay the spear in your lap and put a hand over it. The other is holding the marble. Your finger strokes the runes engraved in the spear absent-mindedly, as you gather magic and release it slowly into the spear, letting it run through it before gathering it again and directing it into the marble.

“Come out.” You whisper.

You are little startled, when a strong presence appears in front of you, it channels fear and longing and – judging by the size of it – likely belongs to a giant. You want to ask about their nature, but they are faster than you are.

‘Who are you?’ A female voice asks, it does not sound as sad as its presence would indicate.

“Y/N you say.”

‘I don’t know you.’ She answers. ‘And what are you?’

‘Athena of Olympus.’

‘Olympus?!’ You can’t see her gasp, but you can hear it in her voice.

“Ehm.” You cough to get her attention. “And you are?”

‘First tell me, what are the Aesir to you?’

You laugh on that question. “At the moment? Cradle robbers.”

There’s a moment of silence and you consider forcing the answer out of her, but before you can do that she gathers enough wit to answer you.

‘Járnsaxa of Jotunheim.’

[purringsquid]

Now you gasp. “You are Tho- You are Magni’s mother?”

You so startled by the revelation that you fail to notice a Vanir soldier coming your direction until he stops by your side.

“Excuse me miss.” He says. “Are you Y/N?”

“What? Like the goddess?” You cock your head with a faux amusement, trying to hide all the emotions and questions that run through your head at the moment. There’s something on his nervousness you don’t like. It doesn’t seem like ‘just met a god’ nervous, but more of a ‘I really hope this won’t escalate’ type of nervousness.

“Pardon me, it’s just that one of the refugees thought you might be her.” He apologies, way too quickly, but honestly. He seems to be just as happy to let this go as you are. He decides to opt out for a small talk to get through the awkwardness and points to your bowl. “I hope you liked the food. It’s the best we could get.”

You smile, sincerely this time. “Yes, thank you, I have not eaten for days, brussels never tasted better, trust me.”

He stomps in place awkwardly and smiles. “Well, in case you are thirsty too, the pub is running again. I will gladly show you, miss goddess.”

You almost laugh. “Well, if you are treating me for one.”  You allow him to help you up, but before you can do anything more, you are disturbed by a dwarven woman, walking towards you.

“She’s pulling ya leg, lad.” The dwarf says, she has a burn scar on her face, you don’t recognize her, but she clearly recognizes you. “That’s the bitch who was all touchy with the Aesir butcher who slaughtered half of me town!”

 “What-“ You shook your head, stepping behind the nice Vanir boy, as if you were afraid of her. Let him think you need his protection. “Why would you say that?! Are you drunk?!”

People are starting to turn their heads your direction, that’s not good. There are those in Vanaheim who will recognize you and you would prefer avoiding that. Every scenario you can think of from being recognized is endangering your possibility to return to Asgard (may you need to join the Vanir again in order to stay in their realm) or Freyr (if you are brought to him and he does something stupid) or both.  

“Oh, I ain’t drunk, you Aesir whore, and you know it.” The ghosts around the dwarven woman, they are all weeping. You don’t recognize any of them, you were not paying much attention to the executed that day. “She talked to herself! Have you not seen?! She talked to the dead! Like Y/N does!”

“That’s-“

“She did!” One of the people gathering around you shouts.

You take a deep breath.

‘You need help?’ Athena asks. You ignore her, you wish for this not to escalate. Truly.

The nice Vanir soldier looks at you with pity and then turns to the crowd. “Let’s take her to Lord Freyr then,” His words make you cringe. He means good, you know that, he truly believes you are just a Vanir refugee and wants to calm others down. But he proposes the worst possible thing. You cannot endanger Freyr like this. Even if it means sacrificing their lives. “He will know for sure if she’s Y/N, no?”

You close your eyes and take another deep breath.

And call the dead to your aid.

___________________________________________________________

Heimdall kept his gaze at the Raven Keeper since she started her chants. He cannot help it, but keep checking the nearest future to know if her spell will truly work or if something will go wrong. It has been hours since the Raven Keeper started drawing runes in his daughter’s skin. He finds himself – to his shame – trembling at times. He was not this nervous when Bylgja was born, it was easier then.

Her little body is now nearly completely covered with them. Some mirror each other on both sides of her, others are unique, they all say something that should come with life; ‘Breathe’ stands over her chest, ‘grow’ on her limbs and torso, ‘hold a soul’ on various parts of her tiny body, most notably over her face.

 At some point Thor joined them and started talking to Baldur and Sif. Heimdall has no idea why they’re still here, when they have much better things to do, but does not bother asking, all his attention is on the Raven Keeper and his daughter.

Until finally, just as the Raven Keeper finishes the last rune on the nape of Bylgja’s neck; She cries. The runes on her body start to glow and for the first time, she cries. Heimdall had never heard a more beautiful sound.

The Raven Keeper stands up, completely ignoring Heimdall and walking straight to the All-Father. Then kneels before him, showing him the child. “All-Father. Your granddaughter.”

“Yes. Well done, as always.” The All-Father nods, then looks at Heimdall. “Now give her to her father, before he pisses himself.”

Heimdall doesn’t have it in himself to respond, he just snatches the child from the Raven Keeper’s arms, drawing her close to his chest. She is all red and puffy from her cries and from the fresh tattoos, but he smiles and kisses her head, his tears falling on her as he does so. Someone says something, but he does not listen to them, all his attention is on his daughter.

Then someone touches his shoulder. “Heimdall.” He looks back. It’s Sif, she points somewhere by cocking her head.

He follows her gaze, embarrassed that he himself did not notice the Norns standing nearby. He allows Sif to pull his arm towards them. Any other day he would have told them to come to him. But not now. He had no energy left to be prideful.

He holds his daughter up for them to bless and they lean over her, one by one. Urðr, the oldest, speaks first. “Your fate was already sealed, little one, by your grandfather’s promises. The name your parents gave you will be forgotten. You will be known as Hel, Queen of Helheim.”

Verðandi is the next one to speak and as she does, she does not look at the girl, but rather at the All-Father. “You will be feared by all, even your family. You will be exiled before you can grow into a woman and when Ragnarök comes, you will lead the armies of the dead marching on Asgard.”

A shiver runs up Heimdall’s back. Sif next to him drops her smile, her hand squeezes his arm, he twitches to get her off him.

Skuld laughs. “My sisters always focus on the ugly things.” She tries to touch her, but Heimdall snaps her hand away. “You won’t be the prettiest girl on Asgard, but that does not mean unloved, you will be chased after by a god! By your own cousin!”

That of all the things said, makes Heimdall scoff and pull the girl away from the three witches. “No, she will the fuck not.”

The Norns laugh. “See for yourself, Watchman.” Urðr says. They disappear just as Heimdall shoots Bi-Frost at them, knowing well it will miss, but still doing it just to get some of the anger out. Behind him, Baldur and Thor burst into laugh.

Sif holds a hand over her mouth as well, but tries to comfort him. “Don’t worry, it could be worse.” She fails.

“No, it absolutely could not!” He readjust his hold on Bylgja (Hel? Was it to be her name now?) so he can point at her and Thor. “You will keep that stinking dogs of yours aways from my daughter!” Then he turns to Baldur. “And Forseti is on a very thin ice!”

He feels warm spread in his cheeks when he hears the All-Father laugh too. His laugh does not last long, however. Soon, no smile is left on his face. “That is the least concerning thing they had said, Heimdall.” His tone is serious. “But that’s something we should not discuss here. Muninn!” As the ravens come for them, he adds. “You both need a bath. We can speak more when you are not stinking.”

.

.

.

Heimdall, all cleaned up and changed, knocks at the door of the All-Father's office. He's nervous, knowing that all his mistakes of the past weeks were about to catch up.

"Enter."

He fights the need to make himself smaller as he walks in, it takes all his will to stand tall and proud.

"Heimdall." The All-Father gets up from his desk. That’s never a good sign. "You know why you are here."

Heimdall bows his head. "I failed my mission and allowed Baldur to be captured." He doesn’t dare to look up at his father. "And dared to read your mind without your permission."

"Repeatedly." The All-Father says in a cold voice, taking out his spear, Bifrost magic extending it into a form of a whip. Heimdall swallows.

"Repeatedly." He confirms.

"Take off your top and stand against the wall."

Heimdall feels a shiver run up his spine, but follows the command, knowing better than to disobey. “Yes, All-Father.”  He presses his palms to the wall, awaiting his punishment.

"How many do you think those crimes are worth, Heimdall?"

He thinks about it, not daring to count himself less than he deserves. "Fifty at least."

Behind him, the All-Father scoffs. "I appreciate your honesty, even if it's absolutely stupid in this context. You’re lucky, that I don't have the time for that. You get ten for each time you read my mind without permission."

"Thank you, All-Father." 

"Count them."

It takes all the will Heimdall has not to dodge the incoming hit, but he knows that would only make things worse for him, so he grits his teeth and does his best to stay silent as the whip hits his back.

“One.”

.

.

.

"Twenty."

Without a word the All-Father stops and Heimdall is not sure if he is dismissed, so he stays in place.

"What are you waiting for?" Annoyed voice gives him the answer. "Get out of here."

"Yes, All-Father." Heimdall turns around, giving him a quick bow, holding his tunic under his arm. His back ache, but he's healing already. He knows that the All-Father held back his strength and while he is grateful for it, he does not dare to address it.

"And Heimdall?" He calls from his desk. " Your stubborn prideful ass won’t admit it, so I will say this once. Gods are allowed to make mistakes when it comes to their personal lives. You're capable of making your own decisions, don't rely on my example in everything, you’re too old for that.”

Heimdall nods, too afraid to look in Odin’s mind to know exactly what he meant. He bows and leaves the study, making his way to Himinbjörg. It never felt so far away before… All he wishes for at the moment is to fall on his bed and pass out for days, but realistically he knows, that he will have to get up tomorrow morning to return to his duty to make sure Asgard was safe. Someone had to be responsible – unlike his brothers.

When he finally reaches his home at the top of the wall, however, he does not head straight to his bed. He walks to his daughter’s room, gesturing for the maid cooing over her to get out.  Bylgja smiles when she sees him lean over her crib. His little girl smiles.

He takes her out of the crib, kissing her little cheek, still puffed from the Raven Keeper’s needle, but already healed. Eir saw to that. Her tiny hand slaps his head and pulls on his braid.

“Hey.” He would have killed anyone else if they did this, (maybe including someone else’s babies), but at her he only smiles. “Let go.” He doesn’t know how he could have lived with her not being like this. How could he have missed the lack of soul in her body?! He pulls her close. Kissing the light fuzz on the top of her head. “Are you tired? I am.”

He takes her to his bedroom, laying her across his chest, as he lays down. He could have let the maid take care of her and would’ve probably get much more sleep but… he doesn’t want to. He wants to be close with her. He’s… anxious to let her out of his sight, to lose what he just got.

Only then, when she looks up at him, he notices her eyes are no longer the pale dead colour. Not entirely anyway. They still have something uncanny in them, but they already changed a little, having the slightest hint of resembling her mother’s eyes.

“Fuck.” He whispers, realizing too late he should probably not say that word in front of his child. Luckily for him, she was too young to repeat words yet. (Plus, it’s not like he cared that his child would curse.) “Do you want your mom back?” He petted Bylgja’s little back. “I don’t want your mom back. She was a bitch to be honest, fucked you up pretty bad.”

His daughter keeps smiling at him.

“You’re not very smart, are you? Well, that’s after her.”

He lets his head hit the pillow. He shouldn’t be thinking about this before he had his sleep. The All-Father had implied, however, that he did not approve of his decision. Was he wrong to send her away? She lied to him after all…

Fuck.

“Hey, you lying bitch.” He says into the air, not knowing if it will work. “You hear secrets, I have a secret for you. If you come back – and apologize nicely – I might be willing to take you back.” He is not sure if that was enough and just as he’s falling asleep his mouth adds against his will. “I miss you.”

___________________________________________________________

You walk through the village, now littered with corpses. The air is thick with the stench of death that will soon draw in the wildlife. You don’t bother with burning it down to hide your involvement, you know that those who find these bodies will have no doubt that it was a work of Aesir soldiers.

You feel a heavy weight on your heart and yet, you take what you need from the fallen and more. You’re a goddess, you can take whatever you want from mortals, it doesn’t matter if it’s their trinkets or their lives.

“You lied to that boy.” Járnsaxa’s voice sounds from behind you, she sounds sad and… disappointed. “You’re Aesir enough to me.”

“Fuck off.” You snap back, maybe too harshly. “You don’t understand.”

“What’s here to understand?” She asks.

“Had they brought me to Freyr, he would do something stupid and endanger himself. I couldn’t allow that.” You yank a scarf off a dead woman’s body, wrapping it around your waist to hide the drops of blood that ended on your dress. Freya’s dress. Vanir blood.

“I haven’t met Freyr, but he doesn’t strike me like someone who would want to have a village burnt for his safety.”

“I-“ He would not. “Shut up.” He doesn’t have to know about this. With a wave of your hand, you make her disappear back to her marble. You set off to leave the village, hopefully there will be no dwarves in the next one you find. With all the… requisitioned items you’ve gathered, you should pass for a Vanir well enough.

You still, stopping in place, when at the back of your head you hear a familiar voice.

‘I might be willing to take you back.’

Your hands close into fists.

‘I miss you.’

You shut your eyes tight.

You can see flashes of his mind. ‘Our daughter. I want her to have her mother.’ You see Bylgja, her eyes shining with colour, her little mouth smiling. She grew when you were gone.

Tears fall down your cheeks.

You look back at the destroyed village. If he had fixed her, even if the Raven Keeper did it.. you could come back home. See her again. You have a hard decision to make. If you come back now, you will be with her again and know for sure that the asshole you call husband will take you back. But there will be no guarantee that Laufey survives long enough to have the child that will then make up for her curse, fixing Bylgja, without the need of fragile necromancy.

You take a deep breath and grit your teeth.

You need your daughter whole. Not just with whatever magic the Raven Keeper did to hold her together.

You continue your way through the forest. You will see your little girl again one day. Just not now.

[purringsquid]

Heimdall, Thor and Baldur grand adventure (a part of Heimdall x wife reader series)

Only first part of this is reader pov. But I encourage people who want to read about Heimdall and his brother (or just Heimdall with baby) to read it anyway.

When she is born, there is nothing but uncanny silence. Not cries, no cooing, no laugh of the Norns. Only Eir's heartbreaking pity:

"I’m sorry, my lady."

You take the little body from her, still warm and yet with no sign of life, red mark where the cord tangled around the small neck.

"Don't be." You whisper.

You place a kiss on her forehead and breathe life to her with your magic. There's no cry, when she opens her eyes and yet you feel relief - at least until you look carefully and see the hollowness her eyes possess. You could save a body but not the soul. That's giant magic - one that they never shared with others.

"Don't tell a word of this." You say to Eir.

And to your surprise she does not protest. "As you wish, my lady."

"Don't even think about it in front of my husband. Avoid his eyes when you can." You press her further.

"Lady Y/N," She hesitates. "He will know in time."

"I know this just.. be quiet until then, will you?" You cradle your child, pulling her close to your chest. Despite the tragedy of her birth, the love you feel for her is overwhelming.

"I will." Eir assures you, sadness never leaving her voice.

"You can let him in then." You smile, prompting her to do the same, she should at least pretend to be happy in front of others.

The door opens before she can touch the handle. A second more of waiting would have been too much for your husband, apparently. He doesn't even look at Eir, storming to your side. You can hear someone laughing at him from the door.

 You give him a smile, showing him your child. “It’s a girl.”

He looks at her with lifted browns. “Why is she ugly? That can’t be after me.”

For a moment you are not sure if he is being asshole on purpose or had never seen a newborn child before. Both were very possible.

“When was the last time you looked in a mirror?” You snap back. He can’t let you have a nice moment, can he? And yet you are secretly happy that he doesn’t see her lack of soul. You couldn’t care less that he is an asshole, as long as he doesn’t notice – as long as he doesn’t do anything to you or her.

After days of arguing you name her Bylgja after his dead aunt-mother. It amuses her, but you don’t tell your husband that – he still didn’t get used to you casually conversing with the dead.

Your choice of name does not amuse Odin, but he does allow it in the end. You have to argue with him over it. Heimdall would rather just choose a different name and sulk, then admit to his father he disagrees with him.

He often checks on her, even returns to your home while he is on patrol to do so. But if he notices that something is wrong, he does not say anything.

It takes him a month.

.

.

.

You wake up with the feeling that something is wrong. Your eyes shoot open, looking towards the crib. It’s empty and so is your husband’s side of the bed. But there’s someone else present. Since Bylgja was born the ghost of Heimdall’s aunt-mother – her namesake – had followed her everywhere, but now she stands here by your bed, along with the ghost of Odin’s first wife.

“Where’s she?” You ask them.

‘Heimdall-.’ One of them says. You wrap a coat around you, not bothering to dress up properly. ‘Odin-’ You had feared that answer. You hurry barefoot out of the cabin and the ghosts follow you, their words sounding after you. ‘Why would you not tell him?’ ‘Foolish, girl.’ ‘Odin will-’

“I know, shut up.” You curse having to live up on the wall, as you run down the hill faster than you ever did before, dirt and stones clinging to your feet.

“Y/N-“

Startled at the sight of you, Nana tries to stop you in front of the Great Lodge. You push her away, running through the door and further until you reach the All-Father’s study.

In the silence the Lodge provides in the night you can hear the voice of your husband. “-not cry and when I look in her future, I cannot see anything.”

You stop by the door, you had feared this day would come, but you never dared to think about it long enough to prepare yourself for it, because if you did, he might have noticed. You have no idea what you will say once you walk in.

“Of course, you can’t. The child has no soul, am I right, lass?” Odin raises his voice at the last sentence. “Come in.”

You open the door to the sight of the All-Father carrying your daughter and your husband, looking at you with a pained expression that soon turns to anger.

“What did you do?!”

He does not wait for you to answer and in a second he is at your side, his hands forcing your head up, so you have to look in his eyes. You try to push him off, but he won’t let you, his gaze shines with magic as he runs through your mind, forcing you to remember the giant's curse and the Norns’s prophecy, as well as your conversations with the All-Father.

All that you avoided thinking about so hard now flashes through your head. ‘The Norns also said that I will be cursed to give birth to a dead child-‘ ‘The child you carry shall be born dead-‘ ’There’s a way to save your child, but you would not like it-‘ ‘Only the Giants can tie a soul to a body. Ironic is it not-’ ‘I was afraid that it would either be the wedding or an execution-‘ ‘I’m sorry, my lady.’ ‘Don't tell a word of this.’

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” He pushes you away so hard you have to take a step back and your back hits the door.

“I didn’t want to hurt you!” You say the first thing that comes to your mind.

“Yeah, sorry if I don’t believe that.” You know that he’s still reading your mind, but clearly his anger is only allowing him to see what he wants to.

“And what do you believe? That I should have told you, so you finally have a reason to get rid of me? To be disowned and tossed away?!”

“You should not be lying to your husband!” He shouts, stepping closer to you, until he has you pinned to the door.

“Children-“ The All-Father makes a sorry attempt to stop you from waking up the entire lodge.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have married the goddess of secrecy if you didn’t want her to keep things from you!” You don’t know why you say that, it just slips from your mouth, while your mind spins around the fear of being separated from your child or worse - her being punished for your actions.

You don’t dodge when he hits you, just stay pinned to the door, hoping that his anger won’t spill over to your daughter. Tears run down your cheeks at the thought. “Heimdall-“

“Heimdall!” The All-Father says in a firm voice, he is still holding your daughter and you hope that he will take your side in this, since he had known, but he seems strangely indifferent to the situation and it crosses your mind that he might have been planning this all along. Just having you give birth and then let Heimdall do the rest.

Heimdall turns his head to his father. “You knew.”

“Yes.” Odin says matter-of-factly. “If you want to leave her do so, but don’t settle to mindless violence. I would expect that from Thor, but not you.”

You don’t even know what to say to Odin. This wouldn’t have happened if he did not send you to Svartalfheim in the first place! You look in Heimdall’s eyes as you think this. They are the last you see of Asgard before the ravens take you away.

_________________________________________________________

“Calmed down yet?”

The All-Father sounds disappointed, and in any other situation that would make Heimdall feel ashamed, but not now. Not when it turned out there was a whole conspiracy against him and his father was a part of it! Eir too!

“If not get out and return when you are.” The All-Father says, as he rocks the soulless baby in his arms.

Heimdall clenches his fists and takes a deep breath. He would not be kicked out for not controlling his emotions. He was not Thor. “I’m alright, All-Father.” He says through gritted teeth. It is not his right to question the All-Father, so he does not ask why he kept his daughter’s state from him for so long. “Is there something that can be done?”

“Yes.” The All-Father nods. “Take Baldur and track the Norns, Y/N had mentioned they had the answers, but refused to give them to her.”

Heimdall knows the door of the All-Father’s study will open, before they do and tries to avoid it by shouting: “Stay out of this, Thor. The clever people are talking.”

It does not help, the door opens anyway and Thor walks in.

“All-Father.” He says.

What follows next is the performance of the longest sentence Thor had ever said, as he insists on accompanying Heimdall and Baldur on their quest. Apparently, he had zero trust in leaving Heimdall’s own child with them and worse, the All-Father allows him to, despite the drunk just crawling his way back from the pub and insulting Heimdall’s parenting skills.

The All-Father returns Bylgja to Heimdall’s arms, before telling them that Niflheim would be the best place to start their search and sending them off to find Baldur.

.

.

.

“Between mother and Y/N, the All-Father seems to be pretty shitty at arranging marriages.” Baldur sees no seriousness in the situation, his mind filled with amusement that makes Heimdall’s skin crawl.

“Shut up.” He snaps, adjusting his hold on his daughter. Baldur is as always relishing in his invulnerability by pissing him off. He used to piss him off even when he was vulnerable, but lately it was getting unbearable. (He tried to fuck his wife on their wedding night for fuck's sake.) He ignores Baldur in favour of warning his other brother of the approaching enemy. “Thor! Ogre at your right!”

Thor throws his hammer, killing the ogre instantly. Of all the Realms the Norns had to choose the Niflheim to stay at this time. Heimdall hated Niflheim, the only realm worse than Niflheim was Helheim.

The moment Mjöllnir returns to Thor’s hand a pack of nightmares spawns around them.

Heimdall quickly realizes the struggle of fighting properly, while holding a newborn, so he uses his foresight to dodge their attacks instead (and Baldur’s attacks too, because he gives no shit about being careful not to hit his allies), cursing, as he tries and fails to draw his sword without nearly dropping his daughter.

Thor notices his struggle and chuckles. Asshole. “Need help?”

“No.” Heimdall snaps back, adjusting his hold on the child, as his brothers finish off the nightmares. He puts his hand under Bylgja’s chin as she throws up, then wipes it off in the snow, more grateful for his foresight now than he was during the whole war.

“You sure? I can tie her to your chest, so you don’t have to keep carrying her.” Thor insists.

It is a tempting offer but since Thor is the one who makes it, Heimdall has to refuse. “No.”

It takes being nearly hit by a revenant for him to see that, maybe, this little humiliation would be worth it in the long run. He foresees the attack, but the revenant is almost as quick as he is and he missteps while dodging it and it’s only Thor’s hand on his back that prevents him from falling down. No need to say that the whole thing is utterly embarrassing.

Baldur meanwhile laughs at the sight, as he sends a frost wave at the revenant. “I knew you liked blondes, Thor, but wow.”

“Hm.” Thor grunts.

While the revenant is distracted Heimdall pushes the child into Thor’s arms. He’s too slow to fight it anyway. “Here- careful.” He can’t say more, even though he has a speech ready, because he foresees another attack coming their direction.

He draws his sword to fend it off. It’s considerably easier when his arms are free and he is soon pushing the revenant back. Not that Baldur would let him have this victory alone - he jumps at the beast from behind ripping its arm off with his bare hands.

At any other time Heimdall would have let the revenant tear Baldur apart, but he does not want to waste time now, so he takes hold of the revenant’s other arm. Before he can rip it off too, Mjöllnir lands on the revenant’s head, killing it instantly.

“Hey! That was my kill!” Baldur shouts at Thor.

“Only because I held it back for you, baby.” Heimdall wipes off the little dirt that he allowed to land on his body.

“How far are they?” He asks Baldur, looking at his daughter in Thor’s arms, fucker can fit her in one hand, otherwise he would struggle with fighting as much as Heimdall did.

“You tell me, future-teller.”

Baldur has a good point but is still a swine. Heimdall looks in the nearest future and only sees more wandering in snow and fighting ogres. Also, Thor tying the baby to him while Baldur is having the time of his life watching them.

“Alright, Thor.” He bites down his embarrassment and reaches for his daughter. “I will need a little help here.”

“Took you long enough.” Thor comments, but leans down to wrap his waist band across Heimdall’s back and Bylgja in the front, pinning her to his chest, while Baldur is laughing and wiping off imaginary tears.

“Can’t you go tracking or something?” Heimdall barks at him.

“Nah, this is too much fun.” Baldur laughs. Heimdall is fully prepared to murder him as soon as he finally finds the Norns and he no longer needs him.

Within the next hour of wandering in the snow it is proven, that it is truly easier to fight off the spawn of Niflheim without having to keep holding Bylgja in his hands and that the humiliation was indeed worth it… Except Baldur’s taunts about it don’t stop coming until Thor threatens that he will tie him to a stone and throw him into the ocean for fish to nibble on. (He is surprisingly creative when it comes to violent threats.)

“She’s so damn silent.” Thor points out the obvious, he is not exactly known for his fast wits – hence why him being good at creative threats is so surprising. “If you jumped like that with Modi at your back, he would be screaming and biting.”

“You don’t say.” Heimdall rolls his eyes. “She’s nothing like your stupid sons.”

“So, you are telling me,” Thor says, “that she did not make a sound since her birth and it took you a month to realize she’s fucked up, because you thought your child is just so much better than others that she doesn’t cry?”

“Absolutely fucking not, what do you take me for!” Heimdall hates that Thor’s right, that’s about what happened.

“That’s so stupid of you, it’s cute.” Thor grins and Heimdall wants to murder him.

“Eat shit, Thor. I would love to see you noticing if Sif was feeding you lies.”

He ‘forgets’ to mention that a Wulver is about to jump on Thor. Grinning, as it bites to his arm, right before Thor smashes its head.

“Not to be interrupting your delicious argument.” Baldur reappears from his short tracking (and pouting) trip in an ice-filled gorge, that Heimdall really hopes is just another dead end. “But Thor is right on this one, Heimdall, you’re an idiot.”

For the lack of anything better, Heimdall throws a piece of ice on Baldur’s head. His brother doesn’t bother dodging, it hits his head and he continues talking as if he did not even notice. “The good news is we are close and that I take no fall damage.” He motions to the chasm. “You see that deliciously bottomless hole back there?”

The hole is very much an abyss, one that likely leads to the core of this realm and appears very dark and unfriendly. Heimdall is not keen on getting any close to it with a baby at his chest… nor without her in all honesty. He looks in the future just to see if Baldur is mistaken again and… he sees them meeting the Norns. Great.

“Fuck..”

“Fuck indeed.” Thor repeats. “But I want to see you make the jump.”

“You will.” Baldur says, turns around and runs forward the abyss.

They both stand still, waiting for him to jump inside and when he finally does, they don’t move either, as there’s a long pause and then – finally – the sound of his meat splashing on the ground.

In a moment of morbid curiosity, Heimdall walks to the abyss and looks down, he can’t see anything but darkness, unfortunately. Thor follows after him, doing the same. From the bottom Baldur makes a sound that Heimdall interprets as “I broke every single bone in my body, but I’m fine.”

“So, do you want to climb on my back or should I hold you bridal style?” Thor grins.

“I can make the climb.” Heimdall rolls his eyes.

He dodges as Thor tries to pick him up anyway.

“C’mon, I’m not waiting for your slow ass to climb down. Who knows how deep that hole is.”

“Yeah, hop on, golden boy, I’m not waiting for ya!” Baldur laughs from the abyss and Heimdall curses their godly senses. At this point he starting to think that he does not actually need a healthy baby. He could always pick up one of his human children if he wanted one – and it would be without all that humiliation.

“You know, if you weren’t holding that baby, I would hang you next to Mjöllnir and be over with it.” Thor reaches for him and Heimdall sighs, letting himself to be picked up.

“Those three cunts better have an answer worth all this.” For the sake of his daughter, he swallows up the humiliation and holds on Thor’s neck.

“Can’t you see if they do?” Thor asks, lifting his hammer.

“Not their words.” Heimdall snaps and that’s the last thing he does before Thor lifts them in the air.

When they land, he immediately jumps off, Thor and tries to wipe his stink off himself. Then kicks Baldur who is laying on the ground, laughing his broken ass off.

“You look truly beautiful together.” Baldur laughs, earning another kick to his stomach from Thor. “Ow, I aaalmost felt that.”

“Get your ass up. If you are a good boy, I will let you kill them after we are done.” Thor says, sounding uncannily too much like the All-Father. Then he turns to Heimdall. “How’s the girl?”

It only then occurs Heimdall that he could check on her - he does so just to find out she’s as blank as always. “Seems fine, only for the little detail of having no soul.” He says sarcastically. Then, thanks to his foresight, adds; “Don’t say it.”

Thor doesn’t listen. “Like my ex.”

“Feeling hilarious today, aren’t we? Let’s get this over with. Just pick him up, until he recovers.”

“Nah, I’m- hey!” Thor takes protesting Baldur by one of his twisted limbs and throws him at his hip. No need to say the sight satisfies Heimdall, after all the humiliation he was put through on their trip. For a good measure, Thor covers his mouth.

“Finally.”

They walk in silence from then. It is easy to find the Norns now, Baldur’s help is no longer needed. Heimdall sees the path in his future and follows their threads until they start dropping from the air and he and his brothers are overwhelmed by them.

“Want some mead before we go in?” Thor asks, drinking some himself. Heimdall does not need to look into his eyes to know his offer is driven by pity. It pisses him off.

“No.” He snaps. He does not wait for his brother to hide the bottle before entering the lair of the Norns.

“The sons of Odin, enter the home of the Norns.” Verðandi’s voice greets them.

Urðr’s voice follows. “You should be more specific, sister. Those are not his only sons – just the ones he had kept – for now.”

“Of course.” Verðandi answers. “His oldest – Thor, who slays at his command, Baldur – the son of Freya, who wished to defeat his fate, now cursed by her attempts. And Heimdall, the all-seeing god, who failed to foresee his firstborn’s death.”

“For someone who works with babies, you for sure are cunts.” Thor says and the (seemingly) youngest of the Norns appears behind them, mocking his words by saying them at the same time he does.

“He has so many questions he wants to ask, but he doesn’t dare to, so he insults us instead.” Verðandi says.

“I could know that myself-“ Heimdall speaks and is interrupted by Skuld’s mockery. “You little shit-“

“That’s how you sound.” Thor chuckles at Heimdall, his hand still covering Baldur’s mouth. “At least you know how shitty that feels now.”

Verðandi speaks before Heimdall can. “Intimidated by those who see further than him, he tries to scare his enemies into giving him his answers.”

“In all honesty,” Heimdall says, firmly, his words once again mirrored by Skuld “I’m not at all impressed by your demonstration of a short-distanced foresight and neither are my brothers.” Oh, how he hated to call them that aloud. Still, he gives the Norns his best smile. “So, if you may, tell us how to save my child and we will leave without doing you any harm.”

“We are not threatened by you, Heimdall Son of Odin.” Urðr says. “We know how this will end and so do you.”

They are right, he sees himself leaving with his child in his arms, as soulless as before, angry but not entirely dissatisfied. They will tell him what he wants to know.

“Then stop your games-“ This time when Skuld comes to mock his words, he catches her by her neck, cuffing her. The witch yelps, as he does so. Poor thing thought she could evade him. “And tell me how to save my child.” He nods to his brothers. “Or I let Baldur eat the little one.”

Baldur lets out a growl through Thor’s hand, confident in his new position of a rapid dog. Heimdall could see in his mind that he blamed the Norns for his blessing-curse as much as he did his mother and he was ready to charge at them as soon as Thor let him go. (And Thor saw it too, it was not that hard to guess, if you spent more than five minutes around Baldur.)

“You won’t kill her.” Urðr says.

“The sons of Odin have as little patience as the All-Father himself did, when he was young.” Verðandi appears as her sister vanishes. “But they won’t cause us harm, they are too loyal to their father and he is too scared of the future.”

“You won’t speak of the All-Father like this.” Heimdall says at the same time that Thor drops Baldur and he charges at the old woman, who disappears in a wave of threads.

“I’m holding her for you, idiot.” Heimdall and Skuld say at once. “Really? Still?” Again, she mocks him.

She dodges as Baldur tries to hit her face, making his fist shoot Heimdall’s direction, he too evades it, but has to move himself – and by that the witch in his hold - a step back. “Careful! Idiot!”

Verðandi shows again. “And while the young ones fight, the eldest brother takes the lead.”

“You know what we want, what do you want in return?” Ignoring her and his brothers, Thor walks forward where Urðr stood a moment ago.

“We want nothing from you.” Urðr appears before him. “But do you want what you ask of us? Does Heimdall truly want the reanimated child to live?”

“Yes!” This time his voice is joined by not only Skuld, but Thor too.

He has to dodge another attack that Baldur misplaces. Being at the edge of his patience limit, he throws Skuld at him. Leaving him to do as he pleases with her and moves to stand next to Thor.

“Here he comes, determined to get what he came for! Or to fulfil his father’s orders perhaps?” Verðandi says. “The big brother grunts in disappointment.”

Thor grunts and Heimdall speaks before he thinks, turning to Thor. “Disappointment-”

“Shut up.” Thor says to him and then turns to the Norns. “He wants it, so what can we do?” Heimdall looks in his mind and sees only that he does not wish for this sentence to be taken out of context - and a hint of worry that Thor has no right to feel.

“Tell me, Heimdall.” Urðr says. “Will you love the girl, even when she grows ugly? There are, after all, consequences for fiddling with the fate.”

“Will she?” He looks back at Urðr. “What consequences?”

Skuld repeats his words again, indicating that Baldur couldn’t pacify her even when Heimdall caught her for him. He is truly only useful for sniffing tracks.

“He will.” Thor answers for him again.

“So, determined. But we are asking Heimdall, Thor.” Urðr says.

Verðandi speaks before he can answer. “He lies, thinking he knows so much better than us.”  

“I will.” Heimdall doesn’t really care what he says to the Norns, he can see his own fate well enough.

“And if he doesn’t then I will, satisfied?” Thor adds (and Skuld repeats).

“Pff,” Heimdall scoffs. “You beat your sons from nightfall to dawn and then again. No, thank you.”

“Are you prepared to raise a child on your own then?” Urðr asks. “Or will you ask the All-Father to give you another wife? A new mother just like you had?”

That was a low blow.

“Sure, you can, Heimdall! What are the odds that the All-Father picks a child cursing cunt for the third time!“ Baldur joins them, his grin showing bloodied teeth. Heimdall does not look in his mind to see how he got them, neither he chooses to answer to him.

“I can work it out myself. Any other questions? A riddle perhaps? They suck, I always see the answer beforehand.” He notices that he had unconsciously covered the baby with both of his hands at some point, pressing her to his chest.

“Only the last one; What will you do when she grows up more powerful than the All-Father? When she chooses not to follow his orders? What will you do when we tell you, that she won’t be on your side during the Ragnarök?”

Heimdall is taken back because he did not foresee that, Thor does not answer for him neither.

“Stunned, he stands in silence.” Verðandi comments. “He never thought of his own this way, he does not dare to think outside his father’s wishes – or he might end up like Tyr he thinks.”

“Oh, shut up.” He is ready to charge at the witch, but she disappears before he draws his sword. “I- I will let the All-Father deal with it, the way he wishes to. Is that all?”

Thor only glares at him, Baldur laughs and says “Of course you will, pussy.” Heimdall punches him.

“Let it be then.” Urðr says. “You cannot save the child’s soul – you cannot save what never was. You can only get her a new one – and you will pick one of your other children for that, seeing no other as worthy. The child will die, but its soul will live like a god.”

“A shiver runs down the father’s body, as he listens, but he tries to think pragmatically of it.” Verðandi very much nails what happens inside Heimdall’s head, if only she would do that silently.

 “And how shall I anchor the soul in her body?” He asks. “That’s giant magic.”

“You will have to convince one to do it.”

 “He looks at his brother-“ Verðandi starts saying, only to be interrupted by Heimdall, whose patience finally ran out.

“Oh, will you shut up?!” He shouts, throwing is hands. “How am I supposed to find one?!”

“You will have to catch one on the Wall.” Urðr mocks him.

“Great, we are leaving.” Heimdall (and Skuld) say.

“He turns away, feeling angry, because it’s easier than to admit he is afraid. But he is not the only one with questions.” Verðandi says. “The oldest can swallow them and leave, long used to keeping his thoughts to himself, but the youngest – he will ask them.”

Thor indeed follows Heimdall’s lead. They can hear Baldur behind them. “How can I break my curse?” He asks.

“You will-“

They do not hear the answer, they walk away and don’t stop until they reach the place they started at, marked by Baldur’s blood on the ground. They wait for Baldur to finish his questioning – and maybe executing, neither of them really cared.

“You still don’t want mead?” Thor asks, untying the bottle from his belt and taking a long swing.

“Leave me some.” Heimdall says in defeat, reaching for the bottle.

Thor gives him the bottle with no other word and Heimdall finishes it off in one swing, although it was still half-full. From behind they can hear Baldur walking forward them.

“And then I thought you had left for the baby-murdering quest without me.” He laughs.

Heimdall throws the now empty bottle at him. “We should’ve just left you to rot here.”

“You should.” Baldur grins. “Oh wait, am I being too feeless?” Before he can say more, Thor grabs him by the head, breaking his neck in one swift move. Then he throws his body over his shoulder.

“Are you coming, or would you rather take the climb?” He asks Heimdall.

“I will climb.” He answers. “But I don’t need her for that.” He starts untying the cloth holding Bylgja and then hands her to Thor. “Take her to Asgard, I will be back with the soul soon.” He answers the question Thor was thinking, but did not (to his own luck) dare to ask.

Thor nods, swings Mjöllnir and flies away. Leaving Heimdall to his thoughts alone. He sighs and starts climbing, the abyss is so deep that he – with his sight – barely sees the exit. At least he has a time to think over his next actions. Acquiring the soul will be easy enough, but the only Giant he knew of that still remained outside Jötunheim was the very one that had cursed his child. Living giant anyway, maybe some of the dead ones could help?

To be continued.. I'm an attention whore who did not want to wait for posting. I'm not sure if this should be posted like this on Ao3 or two separate fics: Heimdall pov and reader pov, so people who don't like x reader can read the Odinsons adventure fic. Tell me your opinion..

[purringsquid]

Update shorted than I wanted to but whatever, Heimdall will have to shine in the next part. I'm short on time this week. Mostly reader adventure last part is Heimdall pov.

You appear in Midgard, dressed in nothing but a sleepshirt, a coat and a sheer rage. You are screaming until every animal within the forest runs away and your lungs don’t allow you to let out any more sound.

When you are done you look around, just to see Muninn, giving you as much of an unimpressed look as a raven is capable of. He motions for you to follow him and sets off. You do as he says because what else should you do?

He does not lead you far, only few meters out of the forest to a small meadow. In the middle of it, sticking from the ground is your spear. The raven lands on it. Its tip is still chopped, as you were too busy (and lazy) to fix it by now. (You did not think that Heimdall would allow you to get any close to a fight any time soon and yet…)

You close your hand around the spear, pulling it from the ground and as you do, Muninn flies up and caws loudly, alerting you of danger.

You turn around.

At the edge of the meadow stands a huge figure. The first thing that crosses your mind is that he is a giant. But that makes no sense, does it? How could that be possible? Then it hits you - the presence of the familiar spirit. You are not easily frightened, but when you feel Athena at the man’s back you are. A giant would be preferable to a god killer. But he does not strike you, actually he seems to relax as he sees you backing off.

You stare at each other, before he breaks the silence.  “Why do you scream?”

It takes you a while to get the message through is ungodly accent but then your mind makes a soft: Oh. Right. Makes sense.

You might as well tell him, because you are not capable of thinking of any believable lie at the moment. “My husband had just kicked me out to a foreign realm and kept our baby.” If you sound a bit hysteric, it’s because you are hysteric.

‘It is you.’ Athena’s spirit circles around you. ‘You should run – or you can try your luck and fight him, with my help you could even succeed.’ You can feel other spirits around him, pieces of gods and mortals alike, the most prominent ones are tied to his skin –but unlike the rest of them these are silent.

“You are a goddess.” He says and you feel a shiver run up your spine, so he knows.

“And you are the God-Killer.” You answer, hoping to let none of your fear show, but knowing that you fail, because your hands on the spear tremble and your voice jumps.

Your words seems to shock him and for a moment he seems almost ashamed. “I am.”

You watch him carefully, he closes his fists and opens them again, taking a deep breath. He is clearly holding back and you are not sure if you should run or that would just set him off. How is it that Baldur failed to track the guy, but the moment you appear at Midgard, he finds you?

“Leave here.” He says and suddenly all the spirits around him fall silent but for two.

You were wrong, the souls tied to his skin are not silent, they are weeping. “I plan to.”

“Good.”

“I just-“ Have nowhere to go. “You- you did not happen to meet-“ You cannot ask him if he knew where Freya is with Muninn at your ass, can you? “Do you know a way out of this realm?”

“No.” It was a longshot.

‘He does. It is near his home.’ Athena says. ‘He just does not want you there, he is scared that he won’t be able to hold back and will kill you.’ Good to know.

Once again, you stare at each other in silence. You are unsure what your next move should be. You could ask Athena if she knew where Freya was, but you have a feeling that he would not appreciate you talking randomly to someone he cannot hear.

“I cannot help you. Just leave.” The God-Killer says at last, there’s a hint of danger in his voice and you decide that actually, he is right, you should get the fuck away from him.

But you don’t feel like turning your back to him, neither. “Alright.” You step backwards, awkwardly. “Farewell, Ghost of Sparta.”

He does not seem to get the hint that he should leave, so you do the other best thing and turn away, running as fast as you can, hoping that Spartans don’t work the same way the dogs do and seeing your back won’t trigger his prey hunting response.

And the first lucky thing that happens to you today is that they in fact don’t and he lets you run away. But you give it a mile or so before slowing down, just to be sure.

When you finally stop your run-for-life, you realize that the damn bird is still following you.

“Fuck off.” You shout at Muninn. “Tell your master, he should fucking decide, if he wants me on Asgard or out of his sight!”

The bird gives you an annoyed caw and disappears. Letting you – finally – to at least attempt to find Freya. A task that is not as hard as you had feared. The eyes of the dead are everywhere and after a bit of asking, you are left with a somehow coherent directions: Hidden entrance, red leaves, giant turtle – it all makes sense.……..  None of that actually makes sense to you but there are plenty of ghosts ready to accompany you and show you the way in exchange for the slightest bit of attention you are willing to give them.

You let them lead you.

.

.

.

You climb through the hidden gate and just as they promised, you see a forest full of colour – not unlike the one of Vanaheim – filled with a presence of the Queen Goddess herself. And she has to feel you too because before you can get far, you see her approach.

Freya seems far from happy to see you in her Sanctuary, but does not refuse you right away either. “Y/N, was it?”

“Yes.” You nod.

“Do you come on his behalf?” She asks, although, it has to be obvious from your red eyes and overall state of underdress that this is not a diplomatic mission.

“No.” You can feel tears at your eyes again. “He kicked me out.”

She sights. “It had become a tradition, hadn’t it? Come along.” She beckons you.

As you walk, she lays a hand over your shoulder. You both stay silent. Her forest is stunning, it’s filled by a sense of peace for both the living creatures and the dead and-

Is that a huge turtle?

Freya seems amused, as you stare at the creature. She commands it to reveal her home to you and has to push you forward to make you move, because you are stuck in place, staring at the thing with your mouth agape.

“Sorry.” You mutter and follow her inside.

“Sit down.” She commands and you follow.

She sets a mug filled with something clear and – judging by the smell – highly alcoholic in front of you, while sipping from the other. “What happened?” She sits down herself.

Whatever the drink is, it’s so strong it burns your tongue. You struggle to let words out about what happened. Where do you even start? You settle on the main thing. “I had a baby, it was born dead, I reanimated it and Heimdall kicked me out with the All-Father’s blessings.”

“You married Heimdall?” Right, Freya might have known you were supposed to marry one of Odin’s sons, but she was already exiled, when it happened. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You give her a sad laugh. “That’s what Tyr said too.”

“And your child – he kept it.” She said, more seriously and with sympathy in her voice. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I-“ Tear falls down your eye. “Thank you.” On the next words you nearly stutter. “Is- Do you- Do you think he will be good to her? He is nice with Forseti.”

“Odin or Heimdall?” You can hear in her tone that both answers are a no.

“Odin..”

“He is a manipulative fuck.” She sights .” He was nice enough to Baldur, when he was a child, but as soon as they get attitude he shows what a cunt he is. You can only hope she is useful to him.”

That was harsh… but honest. “I see.”

You take another sip of the awful thing and so does she,… actually, judging by the taste of it, it might just be a pure alcohol. You sit in silence until she speaks.

“If I might change the topic for a moment, how is Baldur?” Of course, she would ask about her son.

“He married Nana soon after your exile.” You confirm what she probably already assumed.

“I’m glad. They had always loved each other.” She smiles but pours herself another drink.

“They have a son too. Five years old and already loves books. He will probably grow into a scholarly type, rather than a fighter, but neither Baldur nor Nana seem to care.”

“Thank you for telling me.” She says with a smile and then sighs. “Believe me, when I say, that you are better off without a man like Heimdall – if he hasn’t miraculously matured at least, which I doubt.”

You know she is trying to cheer you up, by gossiping about the man who hurt you and – yeah, you can do that. “No, he did not.”

“Of course, he didn’t. I’m sorry about your daughter though, she won’t have it easy, being raised by a man-child like him.” She seems to get stuck in thoughts before the sad smile returns to her lips. “And just between us, I believe he was given the Gjallarhorn and his praised guardian position only so Odin would have an excuse to get him out of the Lodge.”

You return her smile. “Yeah, I would believe that too.” You don’t mention that you got kicked out of the Lodge too, probably for similar reasons.

“He was like that even when he was small.” Freya rolls her eyes. “You wouldn’t believe how much pride could have fitted in that little body, it was unbearable.”

“You knew him as a child?” You ask, although you guess that the math adds up.

“Yes, he was still young when I married Odin. He would hide behind Tyr, scared of the evil Vanir goddess that Odin chose to marry instead of his mother- all nine of them.” The image is just as amusing as believable. “He had hated me for it.”

 “He was on the wedding?” That you did not know.

The look she gives you makes you regret asking. It’s a very of ‘mom who is mad at you’ look. “I figure you would not remember much of it.”

You feel blood pouring into your cheeks and it's not just due to the alcohol. “I do, I was just not.. interested in the Aeisir guests.”

“That’s a one way of putting I was too busy trying to fuck the bride’s brother.”

You giggle, feeling more blush heating up your face. “I have no regrets about that. He told me I can come back for more any time, you should've had seen his face when I actually did!”

“I can imagine it. “She says, unamused, and then her expression turns even more serious. “Speaking of Freyr. Where are you going after this? Home?” She asks, politely, making sure you know that you are not welcome to stay here. She had to take her diplomatic lessons from Sif.

“No, they were sure to tell me that after the marriage, I won’t be welcome back.” You sigh. “Everyone assumed that I will be kicked out at some point. I guess they were right.”

“I’m sorry.” Freya says but does not ask why, either out of politeness or she put two and two together. But you feel the need to explain anyway, she has some kind of motherly essence around her, that makes you want to spill all your feeling to her.

“I was prophesied to lose the child.”

“Oh.” She makes a noise of heartbreaking surprise, implying that she thought it was about your personality, rather than the circumstance of the birth of your child. Great. “But you do not plan to go back to Freyr, do you?”

“I-“ You did plan just that.

“You cannot!” She stands up. “You cannot endanger him! Promise me that you won’t!”

“I- why?” You are confused.

“Because he, set you up for this!” Not this again. “What do you think will happen when you get back to him! Odin will use your child as a leverage on you and through that Freyr! And he is too gentle to tell you to fuck off once that happens!”

You swallow. “You think Heimdall would allow for his child to be used that way?!”

“Yes, I do!” Freya walks around the table to you. “Let us be honest; For him there’s nothing more important than Odin’s approval.”

“But-“ She was right, wasn’t she? You don’t want to believe it but- You are crying.

“And he-“ She reaches for your chest, and tears the brooches off your coat. “Has put a tracking spell on you! Why do you think he would do that if he had planned to get rid of you?!”

You vaguely remember him casting some spell on them, but not caring at the time. It’s impossible that he had planned this since then, it was such a long time ago- It was not even a year. He could plan this for a year.

“Fuck.” You sob, hiding your face in your hands.

Freya throws the brooches into a fire, using her magic to make Odin’s spell melt along with them. It’s a waste, she could have probably just disenchanted them. But you don’t bring that up. When she is done she walks back to you and wraps your hands around you.

“I’m sorry, lass.”

You lean back on her, staying like that for a while. You are thinking of what you want to do now, since she made it clear, that she won’t let you stay with her- and honestly, you are not one for gardening anyway.

“If not returning to Freyr, I would search for the giant that had cursed my child. But-“

“He or she is on Vanaheim…” Freya finishes for you.

“She is…” You not.

And she curses. “Manipulative asshole he is...”

She lets go off you and instead wipes your tears. “I can’t let you stay here for long, but since you already found me, you can take a few days rest here.”

“Thank you.” You say and you mean it. Maybe you were harsh and misinterpreted her words at the beginning…

.

.

.

You stay only overnight. It gives you time to think about what Freya had said. Any way you look at it, you hate to admit that she is right. Odin had taken you in, because he had feared that your powers would end up in his enemies’ hands. When he realized that you are not as impressive as your predecessor was, he had no need to keep you.

You fucking hated prophecies. If only you were not prophesied to marry into Odin’s family, then your family would be nicer to you and you would not have felt the need to leave and live with Freyr. (Ironically, at the time you had thought that this was it – that Freyr was the part of Odin’s family you were to marry to.) And if you were not with Freyr when Odin exiled Freya, he would have felt no need to marry you to Heimdall.

If only the Norns kept their mouths shut, none of this would have happened…. Yeah, about the Norns. It’s not like they are the best people to help you find a path in your life, when you are lost (and you are currently very lost).

“Any ideas what you want to do next?” Freya asks.

You lift your head from the sad breakfast she gave you. The hangover is terrible. “Yes. I will find the Norns and ask them what else the fate has for me – and my daughter.”

She does not seem very pleased about your decision.

Completely ignoring your last bits of self-preservation instinct, you add. “That never fucked up anyone’s life, right?”

Freya gives you an unimpressed and very ‘disappointed mother ’look.

“Sorry.”

.

.

.

.

As much as you had wanted to avoid going back to the God-Killer’s territory, Freya agreed that this is the only place she knows of, where a gate to other realms might be. (Or more precisely, she told you she has no idea where any is and this one was worth the try.) It’s not like it would take you long, right? Just find the gate, jump in and be off before he finds you.

Or that was the plan. Right now, you are staring at a bunch of stones that are meant to be the gate and you are pretty sure that fate is just messing with you right now. You take a long swig of the awful alcohol Freya was willing to give you (along with some better clothes) on your way and start re-building the gate.

You barely reach one third of it, before hearing the awful hoarse voice that makes your spine shiver.

“I told you to leave.”

You jump, successfully destroying all your work. “I-“ You let out a high pitched noise. “Fuck.” You look between the God-Killer and the crumbling gate. “I just need to get through this gate!”

‘Pardon my language, little goddess, but you have successfully fucked up.’ Athena’s voice rings in your ear.

“Fuck.” You repeat.

‘You have no chance to survive this on your own, but with my help you might.’ Her spirit touches your hands and you can feel her trying to move them and worse she succeeds.

You jump, startled at the little movement she managed to get of your fingers. For a moment you forget about the God-Killer, your attention is fully focused on the dead goddess.

“Get away from me!” You step back from the spirit.

‘Don’t be stupid, you cannot fight him without me. Let me help you.’ You can feel her spirit getting closer. ‘We can stop his madness and after that, we can get you back to your child.’

She touches you again and you don’t hesitate, before drawing your spear and piercing it through her spirit. She lets you, likely believing that she could not be harmed anymore. “Follow my command. Disappear.” You chant in the old tongue, sending magic through your spear.

Two things happen at that moment, she shrieks and her form appears in front of you – you can for the first time, see the spirit you are talking to, hands tied to the spear that pierces her chest, gasping as if she was searching for air. Then she disappears again and so does her spirit.

“Athena.”

You turn to the God-Killer, tears of shock running down your cheeks. You don’t know what to expect from him and immediately think of the worst.

“What is this sorcery?” He demands to know.

At least he was not charging on you as the first thing and asking later. “I hear the dead.” You explain, hoping it’s enough.

He gives no answer.

“She tried to make me fight you- She- tried to possess me! She will return, it’s not permanent.” As you stutter, it hits you that not only you saw her, but he did too. Strange. But you do not try your luck by questioning him about it. “I need the gate built. Then I can leave. Please let me.”

“Hrm.” He grunts, looking at you like a hunter evaluating worth of a trophy. His gaze is too low to be looking at your face.

You look down on your chest, seeing stains over your breast. “Ah.” You turn away, drawing more fabric over them. At least he knows you did not lie about the child, you guess. “I will leave, I swear.”

He walks to you and you take another step back, holding your spear in front of you – the broken tip up, very threatening. He gives you one look over and then wraps his hand around the spear, lowering it. When you realize you should stab him it’s too late and he has a firm hold on it.

“Let me help.” He says and lets go of the spear.

“Okay.” You let out, keeping the weapon down. When he bends to pick the stone, what had happened finally clicks in your head and you put the spear away. Following his actions.

“There’s order to them.” You explain, showing him which stones to start with. He is better at it then you are.

______________________________________________________________

It is a night of the next day when he crawls out of the abyss and gets to Midgard and nearly morning when he finds the house - a pitiful cabin at the edge of a village full of even more pitiful mortals - and yet the woman inside it is quite the treasure… or at least a very good fuck if his memory serves him right. He does not remember her name, but he remembers the way she looked at him – with all the devotion and amazement, he deserved (unlike his wife).

He knocks on the door twice, both out of politeness and because – if he had to be honest – he doesn’t really want to do this. He will be telling the woman only a part of the truth – her child will go to Asgard to become a god.

The door does not open, so he opens it himself. It’s dark but he can see well enough - the woman, as pretty as he remembers her, is sitting on her bed, avoiding his gaze.

“I came for my child.” He says instead of a greeting.

“I know.” She still does not look at him, so he looks around the room, it’s not hard to find the cradle - the cabin has only one room – but as his eyes fall on it, he knows something is wrong.

“The Norns had warned me.” She says.

He turns his head and this time, she lets him look into her eyes. He doesn’t have to look in the cradle to know it is empty. Her mind is full of hatred for him.

‘She won’t live long, I’m afraid. Her father will come for her before a winter pass. She is designated to die by her parent’s hand. To bring his godly daughter to life.’

He sees her killing her own child out of spite, so he won’t be able to save his own – not just his own – his wife’s child. She was jealous, plain and simple and now his daughter is buried in her yard and he did not see that – because he did not think to look and check on the mortal, when there was a god-child on the way and the mother nearly died and-

He draws his sword.

[purringsquid]

short update since I deleted part of it by accident tw: dead children (souls in Hel)

“I need Baldur again!” He announces, appearing in the All-Father’s office. The All-Father is present and so is Nana and Sif, both cooing over his child. “Bitch had killed the baby, because the fucking Norns told her I would.”

Both of the women stare at him in shock, but the All-Father does not seem moved. “Take him then.” The All-Father waves his hand. “I will ask the Raven Keeper, if she can assist us with the anchoring of the soul.”

Sif looks annoyed and one look in her eyes tells Heimdall, that he had already made her take his daughter to Tyr and try to convince him to tell her the way to Jötunheim. He did not comply and revealed – to Heimdall’s utter annoyance – that he knew of the curse all along, as well that the All-Father will try this.

“That means you are leaving her here.” Sif says in a dangerously close to commanding voice.

“You don’t order me around!” Heimdall reminds her.

“Heimdall.” The All-Father sighs. “Leave the child here and go find Baldur.”

No need to say that Heimdall is not satisfied with the All-Father’s lack of reaction on Sif’s disrespect towards him. He gives him a bow. “Yes, All-Father.” Turns around and leaves the study with a scoff.

“Baldur!” He shouts to the corridor, when he is the mandatory two steps away from the All-Father’s door (also known as the respectable distance from it you should keep before being too loud).

“Yes?!” Baldur shouts back, instead of coming over to see what Heimdall (his elder) needs.

“Come over, you are going to Hel!”

“Because of your whelp?”

For fucks sake. “Yes! Now get your ass over here!”

“What’s the magic word?!”

Before Heimdall can tell him just what a little shit he is, the All-Father’s voice sounds from his study. “For fucks sake, Heimdall, you are two rooms away, just get there and stop shouting!”

“Yes, All-Father.” Heimdall says reflexively and then adds “Sorry, All-Father.” For a good measure.

He takes another two steps of respect away from the door. “Get your ass here or I will show you just how much you can actually feel!”

The door of the All-Father’s study opens and for a moment Heimdall is terrified that he had overstepped and will get punished for it but then he sees Nana coming out of the study instead of the All-Father himself. She heads straight to hers and Baldur’s room.

In a second Baldur is being pushed out of the said room, by his wife, amused, holding a pile of fabric in his hand. “I don’t care that you don’t feel, it’s still cold!” Nana says, throwing a cloak over his shoulders. Behind them, Forseti’s head peeks out of the room.

“Say please and we can go.” Baldur demands as he walks to Heimdall, putting on a shirt under his wife’s watch like the good dog he is. Heimdall did not see him wear a shirt since Frigg was exiled.

“Keep dreaming, those are All-Father’s orders.” Heimdall snaps.

“Yeah, should I go and ask him?”

“It’s his order, I was there.” Nana says, saving Heimdall a headache. She gives her husband a kiss on a cheek. “Now go, be a good brother for once.”

“I’m always a good brother.” He gives her lips a peck and both Heimdall and Forseti make a disgusted face at the sight.

.

.

.

Once they stand in the underworld Baldur stretches is arms, takes off his cloak and throws it at Heimdall. “Here, you need it more than I.”

Heimdall catches it, he does not need it either but leaving it here just because his brother is an idiot would be a needless waste. “One would think that you would appreciate having that one wife who is not an utter cunt.”

“She’s also the most ass-less.” Baldur says without a second thought and Heimdall nearly chokes, because his foresight was not enough preparation for hearing that. “Anyway, how do you think I’m supposed to find that thing?”

“You tell me, best tracker on Asgard.” He chooses not to comment on his attitude, because it would only lead to them fighting and he would like to avoid that before finding the soul.

“Alright, I guess I will use my best tracking skills on Asgard then.” Baldur rolls his eyes and walks forward the gate where he – shocking Heimdall for the second time in the last minute – asks the guard. “Excuse me, where do you keep the babies here?”

The guard gives him a very unimpressed look. It’s funny tho – not that Heimdall would ever admit that to his brother. Then the guard says, “Fuck off, mortal.”

They kill him.

“That did not work.” Baldur states the obvious. “We could kill someone with a baby and then follow them.”

Heimdall would much rather avoid that, as 1) that would mean waiting in the line 2) there was his ex who his just killed somewhere in that line and he did not want to see her ever again. He looks around hoping to see a dead child somewhere but has no luck.

“Let’s just go in and see from there.” He says.

They pass the gate and Heimdall takes approximately five awkward minutes before realizing that Baldur knows where he is going. He blames that on his lack of sleep these past days. If he was well rested he would totally notice sooner. Of course, he does not say anything but follows Baldur. Who does the talking for both of them.

“So, if we could find only one part of the soul, let's say the bottom and the top half, which one would you take?”

“The fuck does that even mean- Nevermind, don’t explain.”

_____________________________________________________________

You have only walked the crossroads between words three times before, each time accompanied by Freyr, two times to Alfheim, one time back. It seems like nothing had changed there, except for the silence.

That is until the spirit of Athena makes itself known. 'Why am I here?'

"You were impolite." You shrug. "So, I thought to show you just how much power I have over the dead." You actually did not think much at the time except maybe 'what the fuck?!' and 'Shit. Shit. Shiiit.' respectively. 

'You truly are a child, are you not?' She scoffs.

"If you need to know, I'm half a century old."

'Explains why you are still alive.'

"What do you mean?" 

'Like my father, Odin likely has a thing for pretty young things.' Ah.

"No, he just has a thing for exiling women. Also, it was my husband who did it. He, too, is young." You sigh. "And eager to prove himself to his father. I had hoped he will mature into his own will when we have a child, but alas."

‘Loyalty does not leave with age nor with children. I've given my life for my father and would do it again.’ Athena says.

"Sucks to be you." You shrug, brushing it off, but you know that Heimdall would too and it pains you.

'Some of s mature into loyalty.'

"And then die for it."

She does not answer to that and for a moment you wish for Heimdall to be here and see you overtalk a goddess of knowledge. What a flex that is. And a Greek one no less. But you had more things you wanted to get from her before releasing her.

“When I stabbed you, your form appeared. Is that something you do often?”

‘Not so much lately.’ She says. ‘But since you ask, you already know that it was not my magic that did that, was it?’

“If I knew, I would not have asked.” You say. “I’ve never done that before.”

‘Some gods gain power with time. Not me, I was born fully grown and wise, but half a century is not too late to gain new abilities – for a late bloomer.’

“Thanks, I already knew that.” In theory, you did, but your powers did not exactly come with a tutorial book that said what’s their ultimate form

You stop before the gate. “I hope you like cold and ogres. I don’t.”

_____________________________________________________________

They found the hall where the young souls rested. It looked… it’s not like anything in Hel was going to be cosy or nice. But it was not a pile of baby souls stacked on one another as Heimdall had expected, which was a start. It was a hall with baby souls stacked on one another. The biggest problem here was the huge bird siting on the top of it, overlooking the souls through the open roof.

Heimdall does not have to look at Baldur to know that he is excited. He is basically vibrating next to him. “Go for it.” He sighs. “If you get eaten, that’s on you. Just try to keep it up long enough for me to find the right soul, will you?”

“I will track it for you when I’m finished.” Baldur grins. “You can take a nap once you give up trying. I know how shitty your hide and seek skills are.” Heimdall had lost a single game to him when he was 12. Baldur wouldn’t let him live it up.

“Only when cheaters let their mother cast an invisibility spell on them.” He muttered.

“Excuses.” Baldur laughed. “Now hide.”

His last words were not just a friendly suggestion, Heimdall felt Baldur’s magic overtaking him. He looked at his hands just to see them disappear. Usually, he would rather die that to let his brother cast a spell on him, but he could make an exception for the sake of the task.

He waits a moment, as Baldur rans towards the bird screaming taunts. Then when he sees its eyes on him, he moves, entering the hall, just as the bird flies up and follows Baldur.

There are guards inside. He slays the first three with a single swing of his sword. Successfully alerting the rest of them. In response to the combat, the small souls start running away, some on their feet, some crawling. He could not care less, what he was looking for couldn’t do either.

He beheads a particularly foolish guard who charges on him headfirst, then lets Hofuð ran through another one – who does not learn from the first’s mistake – he uses the sword as a leverage, keeping the body up and using it to fend off arrows that fly his way.

Then he kicks the body away and runs toward the archers, before they can shoot again, cutting their heads off in one motion.

He laughs as they fall. It is way too easy. “You could have just given me my child.” He spots different archers, shooting their arrows his way and he easily fends them off with his sword. “But apparently you just crave to be reminded how death feels!”

He slays another guard who rans at him with a hammer, then another. At this point he just guesses that their brains had rotten away. He dodges more arrows, gets rid of more archers, until one particularly annoying one is left alone. She climbs up the wall to shoot at him, giving him no choice, but to follow her.

As he grasps one of the many alcoves decorating the walls to climb up his fingers brush on something fleshy.

A sound of cries fills the room as he does so.

He spares a look inside and then wipes off his hand - frantically.

The archer laughs and shoots at him again. He catches the arrow with ease, throwing it on the ground, before jumping off the wall, running closer to her position. She moves more upwards, waiting for him to climb up so she can go sideways again. But he is in no mood for a chase.

“Slow down!” He casts a spell, making her freeze in place before he jumps up and wraps a hand around her ankle, throwing her to the ground. He gives her just enough time to realize what had happened before stamping on her head and breaking her skull.

“Now.” He breaths harshly, looking around. The previously crowded room looks almost empty now – until you look too closely and see little head peaking here and there in the belief that not seeing equals not being seen. “I need an infant who died six months ago. Where will I find her?”

To his frustration none of the dead children answers. He grunts in annoyance and gets to the closest one, little less than two steps away under a table he can clearly see a glimpse of yellow tunic. He grabs it unceremoniously, pulling out a girl not much older than Forseti but considerably more dead.

“You heard me?” He pulls the girl into air by her shirt like a kitten. “Where will I find a six months dead infant?”

He can’t clearly see what the girl is thinking, either because she was dead or because she did not have a single thought. Both was possible, judging by the way she moves rapidly, trying to hit him with her little fists. “Let me go!”

“No.” He shakes her. “Answer my question first.”

“Never!” She takes a hold of his arm, digging her nails into his skin.

That’s enough for Heimdall, he slaps the girl’s cheek, making her stop instantly. Finally, she takes him seriously. “Where is she?”

“Down the hall!” The girl shivers and he drops her to the ground unceremoniously and without thanks.

The hall is huge and he gets nearly to the back of it until the alcoves are empty. Which itself is concerning. What will they do once its full? He stores that thought to the back of his mind for later, now he has to get the soul of his daughter.

He examines that wall properly. Each alcove has a name written on it in tiny letters, which would make his search much easier if he knew what the girl’s name was – if she even had any. He closes his eyes.

“Alright, lets name you.” This should not feel so easy. “Let’s say Astrid. Little dead Astrid, who will hopefully be a little less dead in a bit.”

He opens his eyes, it felt like it work, so hopefully it did. He starts examining the wall, name by name, Baldur better kill that damn bird, because distraction won’t cut this. He has no idea how far six months’ worth of dead infants could be and looking to the future only showed him more searching.

.

.

.

A screech sounds from the door and he turns his head.

A bird’s eye looks back at him, covering the whole entrance.

“Very funny, Baldur.” He rolls his eyes and turns back to the wall.

“You take too long!” The head is moved away and Baldur appears in the door, sprinting to his side. “Any close yet? Need my help?”

Heimdall stares at the wall. “Just found her, actually.”

There are two names under the alcove, a fresh groove reading Astrid and another older one. “Brunhilda. If that is not funny.”

He reaches inside with both his hands, pulling out a body much smaller than his soulless girl’s, when she was born. “Aren’t you a lucky dead mortal?” She is not very pleasant to look at after all the time down here, so he looks away.

Baldur reaches for her, his hand glowing with magic. Under his touch her body turns in a ball of glowing sparkles. “Here you go, a pocket sized baby. Looks better too.”

“Fuck you.” Heimdall catches the soul between his palms. “I don’t have pockets.”

“I do.” Baldur takes the soul from him and shoves it in a pocket at his waistband like that’s normal thing to do. (Maybe it is for witches like him, who knows, definitely not Heimdall...) “Let’s go.”

They only mange to get out of the hall and pass the body of the slain bird before they hear an ear tearing screech and shadow covers them.

[purringsquid]

It has been ten years but I have an update. How did this get 70 notes??? Heimdall and Baldur continue their Hel adventure, while you are having a great time with Athena.

­­­With a piercing screech, the Hel’s Eagle herself swoops down from the dark skies, aiming its talons directly at Heimdall and Baldur. They are quick to dodge, Baldur rolls to the side, while Heimdall gracefully side steps to safety… at least he tries to, the wind the Giant creates by her flight sweeps his feet from under him and he falls to the ground, being dragged across the dirt good few meters, before managing to regain his footing.

“Now this is a challenge! Come at me, Granny Hel!” Baldur is up and ready before Heimdall, shook from the fall, can barely remember his own name. He holds his arms open and inviting, waving at the Eagle, taunting her.

Hræsvelgr flies up, before descending again, flying right forward him, this time her blind eyes are locked on her target and she’s heading for a kill. Baldur laughs, he doesn't dodge this time, instead, he stands his ground and braces himself for the impact. The Eagle's talons sink deep into Baldur's chest, tearing flesh and drawing out blood, as he manically laughs.

Heimdall has no concern for his brother, he would have just left and let him enjoy the ludicrous fight, if only his daughter was not with the masochistic idiot. What he sees in the future brings chill to his spine.  “Baldur! The soul!” He shouts just as the Eagle’s beak heads for the pocket Baldur keeps his daughter in.

Not trusting his brother to protect the soul, Heimdall charges, drawing his sword, he runs it through the Eagle’s neck, just as Baldur pathetically fights off her beak with punches. He tries to cut through the neck, but Hræsvelgr twitches her head up and out of his reach, forcing Heimdall to take the sword out or risk losing it in her flesh (which would be the equivalent of having a toothpick in one’s neck – uncomfortable yes, but no reason to stop fighting).

Baldur, still impaled on the Eagle's talons, calls on his magic, a sharp glow comes from his palms and surrounds the talons, before exploding, Hræsvelgr roars in pain and let's go of him. Heimdall meanwhile takes advantage of her distraction and rans to her wing, he digs the blade deep into the flesh, using it to pull himself up and his other hand to grasp onto the feathers. He scrambles up towards her back and she notices him and tries to shake him off. He doesn’t let her.

Baldur – for once helpful – shoots more magic at her head.

“She’s about to set off!” He shouts at Baldur, warning him as he digs his sword deep into where her back and wing join. He was headed for the neck, but he really did not want to be brought to the air with her – unlike Baldur, he did take fall damage.

“Good flight!” Baldur shouts back and jumps forward the Eagle’s head.

Heimdall – though magically perceptive – doesn’t really see what Baldur does next. As Hræsvelgr tries to fly up, he jumps down her back, being thrown away by the flapping of her wings. Again, he is dragged across the ground, only managing to keep his hold on the sword by pure determination – determination that makes his wrist ache.

When he looks up, still on the ground and embarrassingly shaken, he realizes that whatever Baldur did, held the Eagle from flying up again and he was wresting her head with his bare hands. She was trying to pick him away with her talon’s but the position did not really allow her to do that. She turned around, falling to the side.

Heimdall charged, prepared to repeat the attack on her now exposed neck – but better this time.  With one swift motion, he plunges his sword into her, cutting through flesh and bone. The Eagle's body jerks violently, causing Baldur on the other side to laugh and Heimdall to nearly lose his grip on the sword.

They both forgot one little but very important detail: Hræsvelgr, The Hel’s Eagle, could not be killed, as she was already dead.

_________________________________________________________

It feels like you’ve been stuck here for days, of all the realms the Norns could’ve chosen they had to stay in the most deserted of all the realms. Niflheim sucked, and that was a lot to say from a woman who voluntarily worked in Helheim.

At least most of the local fauna leaves you alone, as the spell you use to survive the freezing temperature makes you appear dead to them. That does not include the ogres, though.

‘It pains me to see you lift the spear with such A lack of grace.’ Athena says as you use its bland side to smash the ogre’s head.

“I’m not exactly a front-line fighter.” You say, kicking the dying body. “My training ended the day I was considered good enough not to bring shame to my family.”

‘I would have been ashamed if you were of my kin.’ Athena says. ‘Your lack of skill brings me second-hand embarrassment.’

A sound of ear tearing roar stops you from answering, it is soon followed by a bigger ogre charging at you and you can’t help yourself but notice the similarities between the two – except this one being very clearly a female.

“If you have any tips.” You say to Athena. “I’ve just pissed off a one big mother.”

Athena sighs, as you dodge the rock the angry ogress threw at you. ‘I as well might, but do not get scared again.’ You feel her presence touch your hands as before on Midgard, forcing your fists to close tighter around the spear. ‘And try to think when you fight.’

She’s a bit of a bitch this spirit. Still, you let her guide your movement. The ogress roars again, this time with more anger than before. She charges at you, swinging a giant club. You sidestep the attack and jab at her with your spear, striking her in the shoulder. It does not help in calming her down.

‘How strong is that thing?’ Athena asks.

“Strong.” You answer, panting.

The ogress swings her club at you again and Athena directs you to duck under the attack and sweep her legs out from under her, sending her crashing to the ground. As the ogress falls, you quickly use your spear to pin her down.

‘No.’ Athena says just as the ogress grips the spear. ‘Your lack of wit pains me.’

“Fuck.” You curse, jumping back from her, leaving the weapon there.

‘You are so stupid, it’s unbelievable.’

 You ignore Athena, casting a spell on the ogress. “Freeze!” and then another, “Slow down!”. The ogress is stuck for a moment and you turn to the dead ogre, chanting one of the longer spells. “Death, I call on you..”

You try to say its name and fail the first time, it seems to trigger the ogress who struggles in the hold of your spell, until she finally breaks it and crawls on her feet, ready to charge. Athena warns you, tells you to run, but you don’t listen, continuing your spell.

 “Come back and serve me in death.”

The lesser ogre rises, attacking the other just as it’s about to charge at you, the ogress screams and swings the club at it. If she still recognizes her cub, she doesn’t show it.

"Freeze!" You shoot the spell at the ogress, allowing the undead ogre to smash her to pieces. Then you release it and it falls back to the ground, right next to the corpse of its mother.

'’Not exactly a front-line fighter’. I understand now. You have your uses in a fight – if someone is there to give you orders and guard you. Relying on always having something to distract enemies with is foolish. The beast had known better than to let you charge your spell. Any smarter enemy would slay you.'

"I know." You admit. "I might have married an Aesir, but I’m not one of them. I’m not born and raised to be a fighter.”

‘Exiling you then, was just delayed execution.’

“Hey, it’s not that bad.”

‘You are incredibly short-sighted, no wonder they did not want you to raise your own child.”

“Get lost.” You send her away with a spell – but you do not release her just yet.

[purringsquid]

We are nearing the end of this arc... TW: violence and vore and overall it's a bit horror like

Heimdall takes a deep breath, feeling his muscles scream in protest as he charges for what feels like the thousandth time towards the giant bird. Baldur is a blur of motion beside him, his magic flaring to life as he hurls bolts of ice at her. They dash forward, one from each side, hitting her at the same time.

The Eagle lets out a roar of pain, but she doesn't falter. Instead, she spins around, her wings battering Heimdall and sending him crashing to the ground. It is only because of Baldur’s quick reaction that he is not pierced by her beak – not that Heimdall would ever admit that.

“Tired yet, brother?” Baldur laughs, mockingly.

It’s true that Heimdall may be a little tired by now. It’s no shame, really, unlike the fucking bird he is alive and unlike Baldur he has no magic preventing him from feeling anything. Heimdall crawls back at his feet as Baldur wrestles the Eagle’s head, giving him time to escape.

With a flick of his wrist, Baldur unleashes his magic towards the bird as soon as Heimdall is out of the harm’s way. Flames engulf her, her feathers smouldering, but even as her feathers burn, she refuses to give up. Jerking her head, she throws Baldur to the side.

“Give me the soul!” Heimdall shouts, as he casts a spell, making Hræsvelgr slow down enough for Baldur to get his sorry ass up and dodge her attack.

“So, you can run and let me have all the fun?” Baldur laughs.

“Just to it!”

Heimdall’s heart races as he watches Baldur rip open the pocket containing the soul. As Heimdall reaches for it, the bird charges at them.

Heimdall foresees a future where she manages to take the soul away from Baldur and reacts on instinct, hurling himself at Baldur and knocking him aside just as the bird's talons reach where he had been standing a moment before – which is exactly where Heimdall himself now stands.

To his shame he lets out a screech of pain, as the talons tear into his flesh, piercing his chest. He had not felt pain in decades and this one is not on the light side. Hræsvelgr is not interested in him, however. She could have torn him apart but she tosses him away, instead, sending him rolling across the ground, leaving a bloody trail behind him.

He grits his teeth, he has no choice but to stay down while he heals the worst of his wounds, he can’t properly move, his body is reeling from the attack. When he looks up Baldur is on his knees, clutching the soul to his chest, as he chants a protective spell – something Heimdall did not see him do in a very long time.

But it works in fending off the bird – an invisible barrier is holding her talon’s back. Heimdall watches as Hræsvelgr claws on Baldur, who – to his credit – is doing his best to protect the soul. But his barrier can’t last forever.

“Baldur! Fuck-!” He gasps, the wounds in his chest barely allow for any sound to come out of his mouth. “Don’t-“

Baldur tears open the pocket, but before he can do more, Hræsvelgr breaks his barrier and grabs him with her talons. Heimdall wants to help, but his body refuses to obey him. He can only watch as Baldur does his maddest stunt yet – he pushes the soul of Heimdall’s daughter to his mouth and swallowed.

The bird lets out an angry shriek. She tears at Baldur's chest with her talons, trying to rip him open. He only laughs at her attempts to get the soul out of him, the flesh heals back all too quickly for her to reach it.

Heimdall does not laugh, as he sees in Hræsvelgr’s eye her intent. “Run! Baldur!” His voice had recovered, and he uses it instantly. “She will-“

It is too late, however, Baldur’s laugh turns into a scream of shock as the Hel’s Eagle opens her beak and swallows him whole.

“No!” Heimdall tries to get up, but his limbs don’t listen to him. So, he shouts at the bird from the ground. “We’re the sons of Odin! Let him go!”

The bird turns to him and he sees in her eyes that she is considering whenever she should eat him too. For a moment – a moment that he fully blames on the loss of blood clouding his mind – he believes that she actually might.

“YOU HAVE KILLED MY CHILD, IT’S ONLY FAIR I TAKE YOURS.” If Thor’s angry voice sounded like a thunder hers sounded like the whistle of a frozen wind against the windows. Had he not been a god, he would have been deaf before her sentence was finished.

He knows how pathetic he must look like, arguing with her while bleeding out on the ground, unable to get up. But he still does. “You are a servant of the All-Father! You must obey his wishes!”

“DEATH SERVES NO ONE, LITTLE GOD. YOU WILL ALL MEET ME ONE DAY.”

He cannot not stand yet, but he had healed enough to pull himself on his hands and knees and he does so. He gives her the best threatening look he can manage from that position.  “How dare you insult us!”

Hræsvelgr lets out a high pinched sound, at best it is her version of a scoff, at worst (and likely) she laughs at Heimdall.

“YOU INSULT ME, SCION OF THE AESIR. YOU INVADED MY HOME AND TRIED TO STEAL FROM ME. IT IS ONLY JUST THAT I TAKE SOMETHING FROM YOU.”

“No, it’s not! Fuck you!” The tiredness in combination with a blood loss are getting to him, significantly limiting his vocabulary.

“BUT IF YOU ARE WILLING TO MAKE A DEAL WITH ME, I WILL LET YOUR BROTHER AND THE SOUL GO.”

Heimdall grits his teeth. If there was a way to 1. Survive this 2. Not having to explain what had happened to the All-Father, he might be willing to take any (reasonable)deal. “I’m listening.” He is finally healed enough to stand up and he does so, although it hurt.

“THE HEL WILL BE FILLED SOON. THE RAGNAROK IS NEARING AND I AM TIRED OF THIS WORLD. AT THE END OF TIMES, I WANT TO BE FREE. PROMISE ME TO BRING YOUR CHILD TO ME, WHEN SHE COMES OF AGE, TO TAKE MY POSITION AS THE QUEEN OF HEL AND I WILL GIVE HER TO YOU.”             

There is no way he could take this deal without having to explain it to the All-Father.

There’s no way he could take this deal without consulting the All-Father first.

His wife would.

He is not his wife.

He doesn’t have a wife anymore.

________________________________________________________

"You enter the home of the Norns, come in, you know the thrill by now, you've been here before. You bring an honoured guest with you. A dead goddess of a foreign world.”

Verðandi announces your presence, as you pass through the hanging threads.

“What a pleasure to meet you, Athena of Olympus." ­­­Urðr says.

'Just like the Fates of my world, they show off their powers. Be careful, girl, their answers might bring you only despair.'

"Norns." You greet them, Skuld appears behind you, mocking your words. You ignore her. "It has been some time."

"Time matters little to us, lass." ­­­Urðr answers.

"You missed my daughter’s birth."

"You know we do not come to bless dead children, Y/N. Just as you know that we don't control the fate."

"I'm not here to beg you to change her destiny." Again, Skold appears to repeat your words. You ignore her.  "I'm here to ask what's next for me and my child. I brought you a gift." The Norns cannot be bribed but they appreciate an offering, if one knows better than to demand a favour for it.

“You reach to your belt, you offer us a half drank bottle, it is a pitiful offering, but it is the best you have.” Verðandi comments on your actions.

­­­Urðr laughs as she appears, holding her hand up to accept the bottle. "At least you know your manners. Your husband does not."

"My husband? He was here?" You ask and although it’s freezing down here, sweat runs down your forehead.

"He came here with his brothers and your child, trying to threaten us into giving them the answers they would like to hear."

"You feel chill run up your spine.” Verðandi says. “You want to ask what they had learnt. But you don’t need to know that, you already know what they will do."

"Tell me.” Your voice cracks as you demand to know what fate awaits your daughter. “Tell me what you told them.”

­­‘Wrong question.’ Athena says. ‘Ask what they plan to do with the knowledge.”

“Tell me what they plan to do with that knowledge.”

“Do not let others dictate your words, lass.” ­­­Urðr scolds you. “They learnt what you already knew, that they need a soul for your child to grow and that only a giant could truly anchor it to her body.”

“But what will they do?” Athena was right to ask that, it’s what’s important, although you have a feeling that you already know the answer. There are no giants left, but Odin has an acolyte of similar powers.

“You ask, but you already know.” Verðandi confirms your fears. “You are holding back the questions which you truly want to ask.”

She’s right, you do. You wish to ask whose soul they will put in your child’s body, but at the same time you don’t want to know. You want to know what happens if the Raven Keeper is the one to do it – but you already know that too. You’ve spent hours arguing with her over it.

“I know what abilities the Raven Keeper has.” You say. “And that she cannot truly anchor a soul to a body. So, tell me, will my daughter ever be truly cured? You speak of giant magic. Is there a giant that would help her?”

­­­Urðr laughs. “You won’t like the answer, lass.”

“I don’t care, I just want my daughter safe.”

“Your daughter’s soul will be fully anchored to her body.” ­­­Urðr says. “By a champion of the Giants – child of Laufey the Just.”

You stand still.

“You should not feel cold and yet, you tremble.” Verðandi says. “The foreign goddess was right, to you our answers might only bring despair.”

“If you are willing to give up your revenge for the sake of your daughter.” ­­­Urðr says. “Head to Vanaheim and be swift, you are not the only one looking for her there.”

At last they gave you what you came here for: a direction. “Thank you.”

You would have left with these answers, but ­­­Urðr’s voice stops you. “You’ve not stopped your offerings, when you had failed to learn what you wanted to hear the first time you visited us. You have earned something in return for your loyalty.”

“You misunderstand our words.” Verðandi’s says.

Skuld appears in front of you, taking your hands in hers and pushing something between them.  You close your hands around the thing. It’s a small ball – a marble. For the first time Skuld says something that is not a mockery of your own words. “The child was not yet born and Laufey is eager to avenge her people.”

“Just like you, she does not know when the fight is over.” ­­­Urðr adds.

You wait if there’s something more they have to say, but there’s not.

“Thank you.” You say with all the honestly you are capable of.

[purringsquid]

It has been ten thousand years but here's an update

"Hræsvelgr." The All-Father greets the cursed bird, "care to explain why you swallowed my son?"

"I DO." The bird sounds.. amused? Heimdall can't read her mind through her blind eyes, it pisses him off. "YOUR SONS CAME HERE TO STEAL. THEY KILLED MY FLEDGLING. I COULD NOT STAND SUCH DISRESPECT."

"The boys," Heimdall grits his teeth when Odin says that. He is no boy. "came here at MY order. You and your fledgling had no right to disturb their mission."

Again, that horrible sound. Heimdall is now sure that this is the bird laughing. Laughing at the All-Father.

"NO ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO OPPOSE DEATH, NOT EVEN YOU, ALL-FATHER."

All-Father clicks his tongue, his rage is about to make itself known, Heimdall knows. He can't help it but twitch as he raises his voice. "Be careful, Hræsvelgr, you might think yourself invincible for defeating my youngest, but you know that I can do better than that."

"I GAVE THEM AN OFFER. RETURN THE GIRL TO ME WHEN SHE'S GROWN TO TAKE MY PLACE AS THE QUEEN OF HEL AND I WILL LET HER AND YOUR SON GO." Hræsvelgr doesn't blink at the All-Father's threat, (metaphorically, she has no need to blink).

The All-Father frowns, but not as if he was angry, Heimdall knows that look, he is thinking. For sure he is not considering the offer. Heimdall can't help it but look into the All-Father's mind to be sure.

And he does not like what he sees.

The All-Father of course, notices him reading his mind and gives him a look that promises it will be addressed later. Any other time, Heimdall would be ashamed for disrespecting his father, but not now. Now he had more to fear for than just himself.

"Very well." The All-Father says. "I will ignore your disrespect, this once and accept your offer. You will get the girl once I see fit for her to take your place."

"All-Father-" Heimdall gasps, but is stopped by Odin lifting his hand, gesturing for him to shut up.

"Now. My son."

"AS YOU WISH."

The bird starts shaking and then opens its beak, a loud disgusting sound comes out of it and Heimdall fights the urge to cover his ears. Then, she starts casting, a thick black liquid flows out of her beak and after that something bigger and very much alive comes out.

Baldur hits the ground with a wet splash, he is covered in the black substance and looks very pissed off, (because of course he does.) "Really?!" He wipes his eyes, looking around, disoriented. "I thought- I had hoped this was finally it! That I-"

"Baldur, shut up." The All-Father says. "Come here."

Baldur crawls up on his feet and obeys, as soon as he is at arm’s reach, Odin backhands him. "Idiot. I should've let your mother have you." The slap was performative, just to brush the inch of wanting to physically punish him. But his words hurt Baldur, Heimdall could see. He laughed.

He stopped laughing when the All-Father's hand landed on his cheek. He had no idea how he failed to foresee that. The disgusting black liquid that previously stained Baldur's cheek now spread on his. "And you should've been smarter and watch your brother's back! Do I really need to send Thor everywhere with you to babysit?!"

Heimdall brushed his burning cheek with his sleeve, he felt tears at his eyes. It was starting to be too much for him... all of it.

.

.

.

They went straight to the Raven Tree. Heimdall would never admit it aloud, but that place made him uncomfortable, especially after becoming a father. He is surprised to see Sif already there, holding his daughter, talking to the Raven Keeper herself.

"My lord." The Raven Keeper bows. "I will do all I can to save your grandchild."

All-Father waves her off. "I know."

"Now where's the soul?" The Raven Keeper asks.

Heimdall looks at Baldur.

"I ate it."

It is remarkable that no one, not even Sif, seems any surprised at the declaration. She just gives him a look of disappointment and adjusts her hold on his daughter.

"Well, then-" The Raven Keeper speaks, but is disturbed by Baldur.

"I can't puke it out, I tried." He lifts his hands up in defensive gesture. "No choking reflex. And cutting it out won't work either."

The Raven Keeper walks to Baldur, her eyes inspecting him. "Well then. If you allow me, my lord, I will retrieve it." She says sternly. "Unless you want someone else to do it."

Heimdall would absolutely not be that person and by what he read in Sif's mind and on All-Father's face, nor would they. Luckily for them, Baldur seems to come to the same conclusion because he says, "Nah, go on, creepy."

The Raven Keeper smiles, it’s not a nice smile to look at. "Well, then. Open wide."

Foreseeing it was not enough to prepare Heimdall for seeing her stick her bony arm in his brother’s mouth and push it down to her elbow and further. And yet, a morbid fascination does not allow him to look away.

"Gross." He says, watching the Raven Keeper's arm disappear deeper into Baldur's throat. He can hear a faint squelching sound, that nearly makes him gag. It's utterly disgusting. Yet he keeps staring at the Raven Keeper as she wriggles her arm inside Baldur's mouth.

After what seems like an eternity, the Raven Keeper withdraws her arm, her fingers closed around the handful of glowing orbs that are his daughter’s soul. She presents it to the All-Father with a deep bow. "The soul of your grandchild, my lord."

Odin does not seem in the slightest impressed by it, he merely nods. "Go on."

She takes his child from Sif and is about to place her on a bare ground before Sif steps in, making her lay a blanket under it first. He watches, as she sits cross-legged next to it, not daring to look away when that being – as loyal as she is to the All-Father, holds his baby. Then, she looks back at him, their eyes meeting, her mind is a dreadful place. She beckons him to come closer. “I need the father’s blood.” Of course, she does. Ew.

“Wait. Before we do this. I need to speak with you, All-Father. About something the Norns had said.”

The All-Father scoffs but indulges him. Heimdall keeps his voice low, as he tells him of the Norns’ warnings. “The Norns, they had warned me, that during the Ragnarök, my daughter might not stand on the side of Asgard. Said that she will be powerful, that-” It’s hard to let out something so blasphemous and yet, he cannot keep this from his father, not when she could be a potential danger to Asgard.  “You might fear her power, All-Father.”

The All-Father seems puzzled and Heimdall has to resist the urge to look into his mind. He is afraid, afraid that after all of this, he won’t be allowed to save his child. After a moment of tension which threatens to rip Heimdall apart the All-Father smiles and pats Heimdall’s cheek. “Don’t worry about what the old spinsters say, I will be only happy to finally have a useful grandchild.”

Behind them, Baldur scoffs and Sif fights the urge to glare daggers at the All-Father. Their anger makes Heimdall amused and by that, calmer. “Thank you, All-Father.” He sits across from the Raven Keeper, allowing her to draw blood from his hand. He holds back a cringe as she cuts him, but fails to hold it when she stabs a needle into his daughter’s skin.

____________________________________________________________

The path to Vanaheim is faster than the one to the Norns. Something you are grateful for, you had missed the sun. You go to the first village you see, happy to find a kitchen open for those who had to leave their home because of the war. They serve shaved brussels sprouts, which you would have politely refused any other day, but after more than a week spend in Niflheim, you cram them with in a rather un-lady-like manner.

As you eat, you decide it’s about a right time to examine the orb the Norns gave you or – after you take it in your hand – marble is a better word. You are surprised to feel Athena’s presence near you out of sudden, likely interested in the gift.

‘I feel a presence there.’ She says.

“So do I.” You answer, quietly, not to bring up too much attention to yourself. You put the marble to your forehead to feel it properly. “It’s giant magic. A soul is trapped there.”

‘Can you free it?’

“I don’t know. Why are you so interested out of sudden?”

Athena lets out an amused scoff. ‘We have no such magic on the Olympus. I want to know more of it. I want to learn.”

Her honesty makes the corners of your lips turn up. “Goddess of Knowledge.” You whisper with a smile.

‘You can try to use the spear of yours.’ She proposes.

“As in destroy it?” You raise your brows and she sighs.

‘No. I have a suspicion that it might hold more power than you have.’

Now you are just confused. “What do you mean?”

‘You said that it’s made out of the bones of a goddess before you. It might hold some of her powers. I think that this is how you had managed to bind me, after all, you said you did not know you had such ability before.’

You think about it. You have heard about objects holding a magic power, but you had the spear your whole life and this was the first time something like this had happened. Also, the giantess it’s made of was not a goddess, as long as you know. (Or was she?)  Still, you pick up the spear.

‘Channel your power through it.’ Athena advises.

“I know!” You snap back, trying to focus.

You lay the spear in your lap and put a hand over it. The other is holding the marble. Your finger strokes the runes engraved in the spear absent-mindedly, as you gather magic and release it slowly into the spear, letting it run through it before gathering it again and directing it into the marble.

“Come out.” You whisper.

You are little startled, when a strong presence appears in front of you, it channels fear and longing and – judging by the size of it – likely belongs to a giant. You want to ask about their nature, but they are faster than you are.

‘Who are you?’ A female voice asks, it does not sound as sad as its presence would indicate.

“Y/N you say.”

‘I don’t know you.’ She answers. ‘And what are you?’

‘Athena of Olympus.’

‘Olympus?!’ You can’t see her gasp, but you can hear it in her voice.

“Ehm.” You cough to get her attention. “And you are?”

‘First tell me, what are the Aesir to you?’

You laugh on that question. “At the moment? Cradle robbers.”

There’s a moment of silence and you consider forcing the answer out of her, but before you can do that she gathers enough wit to answer you.

‘Járnsaxa of Jotunheim.’

[thecastanova]

We can have Heimdall say ANYTHING?....

Anything, yes. 🧍🏻✨

[thecastanova]

I'm patiently waiting for more Heimdall x reader stories/updates 🧍🏻💕

[thecastanova]

Might as well try this again-

My inbox is open to Ai Heimdall saying anything you want!

You want him to say some lines from a fic? Maybe a Oneshot? It could be anything 🧍🏻✨

[thecastanova]

I'm patiently waiting for more Heimdall x reader stories/updates 🧍🏻💕

[gxrdenofthxrns]

Loving the Sunlight

WARNING! TRIGGERING THEMES TO SOME READERS! DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

My writing is Rusty so please feel free to give me any critic or feedback! And thank you for reading!

Not Proof Read!

Heimdall X reader

Please tell me if you want to be tagged in the future!

One last thing! This First part will not include Heimdall, I’m setting up the story line mostly in this part. Heimdall will be seen soon, I promise. <3

Einn.

You set down the now empty flask of herbal medicine onto the counter.

"Freya? Are you back already?" You questioned.

Walking cautiously, you reached the door and opened it slowly, peeking your head out. Your brows furrowed together, No one was here? "Hello? Who's out there?" You yelled out into the forest. You stepped out of the door and glanced around. "Maybe it was just an animal" You thought. You sighed a breath of relief and took note to grab your sword that Freya Gave you.

Freya has been your trainer, a motherly figure even. Telling you all the stories of her ex-husband, The foreign God and his son that she helped, her brother, and about all the realms. You have been taught her ways of magic and fighting. Although you have no recall if you are Aesir or something else between the realms. You can only learn what she has written in her journals. You spend most of your day reading her spells and magic, and training with Freya when she is around.

Freya never told you the story of where she found or met you. Only that you were alone. She couldn't find your parents or anyone around. So she took you in. But you know there's only half of the truth written in her story. She treats you as one of her own. But also a warrior.

Although you don’t see how; you've never beaten her, But you have almost won during training. Only once.

“Lets see what you got now.” Freya held up her sword and got into her stance. She was waiting for you to make a move. . You needed an advantage point if you were going to defeat her. Quickly, You looked around and found a Branch and swiftly climbed up the tree.

Using a spell to set the arrow aflame, You drew the arrow back and aimed at her. Letting the arrow go you saw her turn and avoid the arrow. Cursing at yourself, you loaded another and shot, this time at the branch above her head. Letting it go, you quickly loaded and shot it at her.

She dodged the arrow that was aimed at her and went straight under the branch you had shot. The branch cracked and had fallen off the tree. Falling right onto her head. Or so you thought.

Using her sword, she deterred the branch and jumped out of the way. Looking up at you with wide eyes she laughed.

“Very good. A little slow but we can work on that.”

You shut the door to Freya's Hut, turning around you are met with one blue eye, and the other covered by an eyepatch. Acting on instincts, you grab the dull sword by the door and swing it at his head. Unfortunately, He grabs the sword in motion and stops it.

He laughs "I was expecting Frigg! But you are just as fierce as her, I see.” He shows you a thin lined smile and lets go, walking further into the hut. Is he searching for something?

The fireplace is crackling, only a few logs that seem to keep the fire steady. The two wooden tables were littered with Herbs and books. And tucked away in the corner are weapons and bows from you and Freya going hunting one night. The hut is fairly dimmed, just enough to see the Aesir god examining and touching the herbs.

"Why are you here?" is all you can manage to escape out of your mouth. Shocked that the God of the Aesir is walking around in the place you call home. In the home of his Ex-wife.

"I came to see my lovely ex-wife. But I see she had more important things to-" you cut him off

"She does not want to see you and we both know that." You spit. Watching him turn to glance at you with his nasty grin.

"Oh yes I know, But seeing that you are here, you have no clue of what's happened." The last part he spoke slowly, walking closer to the fire and staring into it. Interlocking his hands behind his back, waiting for you to answer.

"What do you mean?" You asked, finally lowering the weapon down to your side.

"Baldur is dead. Our son is dead."

His monotone voice threw you off. You knew she had a son but with him? How did he die? Where was Freya now?

"I would suggest you keep out of her way. She is on her way back now. She has sworn revenge onto the God and his son for killing him." His warning cut you off. He glanced over to you, his one eye staring straight through you.

"I will not be surprised if she leaves you to rot here. She is known to create bad relationships with her children"

"Do not speak of Freya that way. She will not abandon me."

"Frigg, you mean? My dear _____ , you do not know her then." He let out a chuckle and turned his body to face you. Throwing your sword out towards you to catch.

You panically grab for it, Catching it in both yours hands and look at him through narrowed eyes. "How do you know my name?"

"I know everything, Child. Now be prepared. If you are in need of help" He turned his back and went to the door as he spoke. He glanced back at you again, "Just call." and with that, he opened the door and his ravens engrossed him in their wings.

Hurriedly, you ran over and shut the door. Just for another one to be pushed open.

"Freya! You’re fin-"

"Don't."

You welcomed Freya only for her to raise her hand to silence you.

Her darkened hair was falling from the braid she put it in. Her clothes were torn and bloodied. She used her hand to wipe away the tears and bleeding makeup from under her eyes.

She was a mess. Physically and Emotionally. You knew that. Her demeanor usually calm and relaxed now changed to troubled and vengeful.

Your eyes saddened, opening your mouth to tell her you’ll help her but then she would know someone had told you. You did not want to let her know that her ex-husband had come to "visit" a few minutes ago. So you kept your mouth shut. Standing with the table in between you and her.

She looked around, her dark eyes now locked on the weapons in the corner. She grabbed her bag and started shoveling herbs into it, grabbing her bow and a sword. She was preparing herself for a long journey.

"Wait! where are you going?" You asked confused, moving out of her way and standing in front of the fireplace that now seemed to crackle louder.

"You need to leave. Now" She spoke with anger laced in her words. She grabbed her things and looked at you. You now got a good look at her.

Her eyes were dark and bloodshot, The makeup around her face ran down and was smeared. Blood coated on her clothes and face. She was Angry, she breathed heavily and gripped the bow in her hand until her knuckles were white.

"What? Why? Where would I-" She cut you off, using her sword to point towards the door.

"I don't care where you go! Just leave! I don't want to see your face ever again, You hear me? You stay out of my way!" Her words were laced with venom and her eyes filled with hate. Now the rage was directed at you.

Your eyes widened and you kept silent. You nodded your head and started grabbing your things. As you did, She left and slammed the door, muttering spells in her native language.

You flinched and looked at the door. Odin was right. Of course he was, he is the All-Father. Your eyes filled with tears, grabbing your bag the Freya had made you, you started collecting your things. All the Herbs she helped you pick. the books she let you have. Anything you could. You sat down on the chair with a shaky breath.

Whoosh!

That is all you heard before the outside of the hut was ablaze. Your eyes widened and you quickly stood up and grabbed your bag. Hurrying to the door you grabbed the doorknob and tried to open it.

Blocked

Using your shoulder you rammed into the door. But it was no use. The hut started to fill with smoke. And the heat from the fireplace and outside started to combine and make you sweat.

"Come On!!"

You went to the other door, Trying the same technique. Of course, it didn't work.

"Fuck!"

Letting go of the door you stepped back, looking around alerted to the fire slithering through the roof.

Did she set the Hut ablaze? Was she trying to get rid of you?

You realized he was right.

“You do not know her then.”

You had no choice but to call for him.

[thecastanova]

He said WHAT!?!😩

Visit Original Link

I'm back at it again. 🧍🏻 This time it's @nexyswrites fic of Heimdall called Music to my Ears 🙏🏼 A definite recommend ✨ there's two versions of it! I absolutely adore the v2 though💕

Edit: I forgot this fic was based on an audio they made 😭 It's right here I'm so sorry. There was no point of making this but here it is anyways 😔

https://www.tumblr.com/nexyswrites/713234476286771200/oh-my-gotta-mess-with-the-ai-voice-thing-a-little?source=share

Read on AO3 - Requests are Open - Fic/Request Master List The original was inspired by this audio I made with Heimdall's voice and AI. Thi

[vortqxwrites]

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄? ･ﾟ✧:･

ʜᴇɪᴍᴅᴀʟʟ x ᴡɪғᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁 - ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪʀᴛʜ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏɴ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ғᴇʟᴛ ɪs ᴛɪʀᴇᴅɴᴇss, ɴᴏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋs ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇɪᴍᴅᴀʟʟ ᴡʜᴏ ᴏɴʟʏ sᴘᴇɴᴛ ʜɪs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟʟ ᴏғ ᴀsɢᴀʀᴅ. ʏᴇᴛ ᴀs sʟᴇᴇᴘ sᴇᴇᴍs ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ, ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏɴ ᴡᴀs ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ sᴜᴘʀɪsɪɴɢʟʏ.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ʙʀᴇᴀsᴛғᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ, ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ, sᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ғʟᴜғғ

· ✧ ༺♡༻ ✧ ·

The slow rocking of your body and the soothing words whispered tiredly in your son’s tiny ears seemed to be the only way of calming his newborn cries. His high pitched screams turning into cooes of sleep as his face became unscrunched once again.

It had been the third time you had gotten up that night to soothe him, and the moon was still high above your head, not even close to disappearing behind the morning sun. You didn’t even have anyone to take over for you and let you have your sleep as your little shit of a husband was still parading Asgard’s walls. He was always an arrogant, cocky and selfish bastard, but you would atleast expect a bit of decency for his son’s sake.

In between his cries for food and comfort, you had gotten little sleep, as you had done for the past nights since he was born. Half the time you never knew what he was crying for, and would desperately try to figure out what he was needy for. Yet most times he was only hungry, making your breasts sore and aching from how harshly he would relentlessly latch on to.

Greedy little fuck.

But you couldn’t expect much from Heimdall’s son. Greediness must practically be implanted into their DNA from your experience. You just hoped he wouldn’t be tricked by Odin like his father did, you were already having a hard time with just Heimdall himself and if there was a second one. Norns know you would kill yourself.

The sleeping babe was put back into his cradle and you sat yourself on the edge of your side of the bed, wearily rocking it as to not wake him. You didn’t dare rest your head on the pillow, knowing you would succumb to sleep and would end in the babe waking up, disturbing you yet again.

With the relentless rocking and the strain in your eyes, it seemed you couldn’t stay awake no longer and your body rested against the bed sheet’s subconsciously. Your wrist stopped its swinging on the cradle and came to fall off the side off the bed, your other tucked into your stomach. Your eyes closed and your body fell limp, the sheets covering up to your thighs and the furs dropped to the floor.

‘one more bit of sleep couldn’t hurt’ you thought, as you failed to notice the figure that walked through the door.

The morning sun flowed through the windows curtains onto your eyelids, finally waking you from your long-wanted sleep. As your eyes opened, you winced as the light beamed into your eyes and your hand shot up to cover them before they rubbed at the sleeps in your eyes.

But as your pupils got used to the room and your vision was beginning to clear, you reached out to the cradle that held your newborn son as you used the corner of it to help swing your legs across the bed. Your hands reached out to hold him for his morning feed and cuddle, yet you only grasped the baby blankets he was previously wrapped in.

If you weren’t fully awake earlier, you certainly were now. Your head shot off of the pillow and your eyes frantically searched for him under the blankets. Maybe he was at the very edge of the crib and was smushed up against its wooden side? Or just hidden under the pillows? But he wasn’t there. Not in his cradle. Your baby was not in his cradle.

Before you could even get up to search for him and call out to try and hear his small cooes, a voice that was not there last night came about.

“You are not the only parent here, you know? Why you worry so much about him I don’t know.”

That vicious little shit.

Your head spun around to the voice and your eyes locked on Heimdall. He was on his side of the bed, already dressed and his whole body propped above the bed sheets, ankles crossed. One hand held a book in his lap as the other supported your babe by his bottom as he slept on his fathers chest soundly. His eyes were still fixed on the book as you looked at him bewildered.

He had actually shown up. And was taking care of your baby boy.

“Stop acting so shocked. Your acting as if I’m not capable of being a father.”

He rolled his eyes, yet they never seemed to leave the book. “You’ve been taking care of him for how long, thought I should at least remind him that he has a father.”

Your surprised and surprisingly heart-warmed attitude suddenly melted away in a moment. You eyes moving to glare at him, you began to retort. “Your not even capable of pretending to be nice, how would you expect me to think you could be a good father.”

“Because I’m not useless. And I care about pleasing the All-Father. If it means taking care of my child then yes.”

You deadpanned at him for a moment, before asking “Since when did you care?”

That suddenly got him to look up at you. His bifrost eyes disappearing from the contents of the book and latching onto your glaring ones. It was almost as if you had said something wrong, like you had lied to him. And that was impossible, he could read your mind for gods sake.

“I cared once the All-father gifted you to me.” He spoke, eyes flickering back to the book.

You scoffed. “Gifted?”

He rolled his eyes for what seemed the hundredth time. “Yes gifted. You should be grateful you even meet mine and the All-Father’s standards. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

You felt like smothering his face with a pillow if he didn’t shut up. His talk about ‘being gifted’ had come up many times before, it would irritate you, but in your new motherly filled life your irritation levels seemed to grow as much as your sleep deprivation. Leaving you to finally snap back at him.

“Wouldn’t be here? You say that as if I should be grateful. You have barely talked to me since you even found out I was pregnant. I may aswell become a single mother. And after how many night and days I have not slept, you give me one single night out of the months he’s been born to let me sleep and suddenly you’re a good parent? No. You’re not. So give me my son and let me take care of him.”

You probably shouldn’t have said that, but with how infuriating it was to have to take care of a baby with nearly no breaks except for the off chance that Sif would let you have a late morning by keeping him asleep while you did. But still those were rare. And where in the realms was your husband? His father? Oh, he was out walking along a fucking wall day and night. It felt good to tell him off. After all, you had a son to feed.

Yet again, Heimdall’s eyes looked back to you, his book now tossed onto the bed beside him. His mouth opened to speak as his lips curled in anger and his eyes narrowed at your crossed leg form. But he was never allowed to speak as your son began to wail, almost as if it had sensed the tension in the room and saved his mother from an earful of hatred from her own husband.

His cries made you look down at him as he shifted in the blankets Heimdall had wrapped him in. His adorable little face was scrunched up again and his tiny hands formed into fists as he held desperately to the blankets. You ignored Heimdall and snatched him gently off of his chest, and began to unwrap the blankets from him.

You held him against you, your arms supporting his back as his head rested in the corner of your inner elbow gently. You whisper sweet shushes as you rocked your arms up, down and side to side like his cradle would, careful enough not hurt him. You would need to feed him soon, but with Heimdall watching you weren’t comfortable enough to yet. But then again you had both had to fuck one another to be here.

With all of your rocking and sweet words as both of your’s son cooed at them after he finally settled down, you missed how Heimdall’s eyes softened ever so slightly at your comforting form. Your mood changed so quickly even he did not foresee it. And all of it was for a baby that was his. The man you held a deep hatred for yet were bound to him by that magic of laws. Yet you still cared.

The cooes of your baby silenced as he fell yet again into sleep, now contempt with no squabbling between his mother and father. You gently lifted him out of your arms and placed him back into his blanket-filled cot, nudging the fluffy toy towards him as he grasped it with a small fist. The sight out a smile on your face as you looked down at him, so innocent and pure.

You were rocking his cradle again, just like you did last night and then foolishly fell asleep. You were a lot calmer now, and had no desire to shout and berate Heimdall for being a vicious little shit anymore. Only to watch and take care of your son.

“Go on. Shout at me. Like you always do. But quietly, I don’t want to have to put him back to sleep again.” You said.

He didn’t respond, for some reason only the Norns would know. You only heard him shuffle on the bed and expected to hear the door open and close as he left to sit upon the wall and brood again. But you felt arms wrap around your stomach and something pressed slightly against your back.

You tilted your head to the side seeing a few golden blonde locks, confirming your suspicion. “What are you-“

“You should sleep.”

You were taken aback. What was he doing? What game was he playing? First, his silence which had already made you worry he had gone off to the All-Father do have you killed for disrespecting him again. But now this? It felt so wrong. So different. So…not Heimdall.

“Your thought’s are incredibly loud. I’m not going to kill you. You are the mother of my child after all. I only said you should sleep.” He was being nice?

“Yes I’m being nice. Now go to sleep. I will take care of him.”

And you had no reply except a satisfied sigh and your eyes closing.

‘Was he always this warm?’

Once again you had woken to the sun, yet this time it was dimmed and not rising. It wasn’t mixed with pinks and ambers yet, only melting into a darker blue, hinting towards the late afternoon. It was not evening yet, which meant you had slept nearly the whole day. As refreshing as it was though, the copious amount of rest was an unpleasant feeling.

It made you feel neglectful. As if you had ignored your son. And that was a mission you would complete. Your son wasn’t in his crib as before, and his blankets were cold, hinting towards that he had not been there for the past hours. This led you to believe that Heimdall had taken him, as of earlier he had said he would take care of him. But that thought didn’t make you worry as it should’ve. He had seemed to show a softer side earlier, and what you had woken up to this morning was evidence of the crime. He was actually becoming a father.

You quickly got dressed to go In search for them. A dress and boots as normal, the sound of the shoes hitting the floor rung in your ears as you made haste to find them. You began to get to the last hallway to the lodge’s doors, but a body stopped you as you rounder a small corner.

As you looked up, the familiar blue dress and long blonde hair gave you all you needed. “Oh, Sif. Sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you.”

She smiled at you fondly and responded. “No need. I wasn’t looking. Are you alright? I haven’t seen you or the babe all day?”

“Oh no, I’m fine thank you. But speaking of the babe. Have you seen Heimdall?” You asked quickly, hoping she knew there whereabouts.

“I haven’t seen him. But that means he’s probably out on the wall. But what does that have to do with the babe? Is he not with you in your room? Is he missing? We can-“

You cut her off. “No! No, he’s not missing. It’s just that Heimdall has him, I just didn’t know where Heimdall was. But I’m sorry Sif, I shall see you tomorrow, i need to speak with him.” You bowed your head at her in respect and quickly walked to the lodge’s door, slipping out and into the outside.

Asgard’s air was still warm, only a slight breeze that would become chill as it became evening. The Aesir were still hustling about. Valkyries finishing up their training, merchants selling, and Einherjar going to the Black Thunder. It was definitely Asgard.

As you took in its splendours, you began to walk towards the lift of the wall. When you were stopped by a voice you hoped you would not have to hear.

“Ah! Y/n! There you are, dear.” Odin’s voice rang out, as smooth as the unfortunate day you met him.

You turned around, bracing yourself before your face was visible. “All-Father. Of what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked, straight to the point.

He smiled at you manipulatively. “Oh nothing, my dear. I was hoping to see you with my grandson. But he is not with you?”

‘Grandson. You are no grandfather to him’

“He is with his father. Who I am trying to look for.” You replied, not blurting out your true thoughts.

He nodded at you before gesturing to his bird who was sat on a wooden pillar next to him. Huginn or Muninn, you could never remember their diffrences. “We’ll i believe he is on the wall, as usual. If you would like, the ravens could take you to him.” He offered.

You internally rolled you eyes at his ‘kindness’, yet plastered a fake smile and a nod. “If I can All-Father.”

“No need to thank, my dear. You are family after all.” A certain twinkle in his eye that you knew all to well. Yet you ignored it and bowed your head in respect as the swarm of Odin’s ravens surrounded you.

‘Right. Family.’

As they cleared, and there flurry of wings disappeared. You were left to the beautiful sight of the sun setting. Even in the short time you spent trying to find out where Heimdall was and trying to get there, pinks, magentas and slivers of purple were swirled together. You had always loved sunset. A beautiful sight in every realm, especially when you can have such a view of it ion Asgard’s wall.

The cooing you knew all to well was heard from behind you, making you spin on your heels to the source. You never thought you would ever look at a sight that had Heimdall in it and call it sweet or heart-warming or adorable. But with the scene in front of you you could use more than those three.

Heimdall was sat on the edge of the wall, your babe in his arms as he cooed and whined. Heimdall’s fingers sort of rubbing together in front of his face to tease him or attempt to make him laugh. Your boy’s much smaller hands reaching out in attempt to grab at his much larger ones, as his eyes stared up at his fathers. He was giggling, the same he would do when you would blow raspberries on his pudgy little tummy. You never would have thought you would see it, but Heimdall was actually getting along with his son. And he wasn’t ignoring him.

He wasn’t acting the same as his Father once did. He may have ignored you and your son when he was born and even before that. But you thought the paragraph of sense had finally drilled into his thick, stubborn skull and he was finally realising he wasn’t his father. And he didn’t have to be. You just hoped he would at least dial down the cockiness, arrogance and overall just the bitchiness in general, at least in front of your son.

You wanted to go over and watch more closely, but you also didn’t want to ruin the pure moment. You knew father and son bonding was important and with his absence over the few months your son had experienced, he definitely deserved it.

“Are you going to stand there gawking all evening or are you going to sit down?” His sarcasm came.

Shit. He had noticed you. But, then again he was the God of foresight. You don’t even know why you were surprised.

He was still playing with him, he didn’t look at you. Just invited you to sit next to him. To which you complied, your legs dangling next to his as you looked at your son. He was so happy with his father and perked up at the sight of you. One tiny hand reaching out to you, and a small cooe leaving his mouth.

You held your pointer finger out to him, his whole fist just barely wrapping around it. He giggled at you adorably and snuggled into his fathers hold, seemingly wanting to be close to the both of you as he drifted of into sleep. His fist never loosened on your finger, almost sort of an attempt to drag you into Heimdall. You couldn’t tell if it was just because he knew you were his parents or he was just smart. But the unconscious tug towards his father left you leaning into Heimdall’s shoulder as you continued to stare at your’s babe.

And you did for so long. There was barely any oranges left in the sky as he fell asleep. Purples blended into black with small flicks of silver they call stars. All throughout it though, you and Heimdall never said a word. Bathing in the silence and the youth of your child, yet never uttering a syllable.

And as he finally stilled his movements you took the chance to speak up. “I’m sorry. For earlier. When I shouted at you.”

You didn’t think you would get a response or even acknowledgment. You expected a scoff even if you did get a response to it. But you didn’t. He replied with a genuine answer.

“No. I am sorry. I was not there. Afraid, that I would become like my father. And not treat our son or you the way they should be treated.” He paused. “I will…take care from now on.”

He cared? He actually cared. And even admitted to his assholery. And promised to care. Fucking hel how much mead did you drink?

A small laugh emitted from Heimdall. He must have read your mind again. And he genuinely thought it was funny. How many surprises did he have up his sleeve?

“Don’t tempt me. Your mind goes sarcastic when your suprised.”

You laughed at that. A smile gracing your lips as you looked down at the boy. Your’s and Heimdall’s. The both of yours. Ours.

“Ours” He repeated.

Your small family. How you loved it. And it had barely even started.

“I want another one.”

“Heimdall-!?”

· ✧ ༺♡༻ ✧ ·

Notes: I didn’t put a name because I couldn’t think of one, and number two I am just shit at names anyway. I did try to keep Heimdall in character but lmk if I should change some things. Trust me, I need the advice. :)

Anyway Astra out |

[thydonutart]

Winters in Midgard; Little Heimdall vs. Tyr in a snowman competition ⛄️ ❄️

[090993084906583490580903485-dea]

Music to my Ears V2 [Heimdall x Female Reader Oneshot]

Read on AO3 - Requests are Open - Fic/Request Master List

The original was inspired by this audio I made with Heimdall’s voice and AI. This is a more secondary version of the original story as I was asked to do an alternate version where Heimdall change’s sides since he’s in love with the reader.  Original Summary:  Heimdall finds you in Vanaheim, once akin to lovers, now you stand across from each other on the battlefield, but Heimdall has a better idea than fighting. Warnings:  Smut, Female Reader, NSFW ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah I should have expected to run into you here too.  Sizzles wasn’t looking too hot the last time I saw him, don’t worry though Sunshine, because I’ll set you ablaze myself.” Heimdall laughed as you backed away from him. You felt like an animal that had been caged in, the only way out of your current predicament was to either disappear into the ground, or somehow get past Heimdall yourself. Neither option was a good one. You continued to back up until you were stopped by the vine covered rock wall. You gulped as you watched him hop off of Gulltoppr and begin towards you on foot. ‘Fuck where’s Kratos, Atreus…Freya?’ You desperately thought to yourself. “Oh Sunshine, they aren’t coming to your rescue, you know that right? Even if they tried, you can’t really think anyone would be able to stop me from getting to you, do you?”

You hated that he could see your thoughts right now. The fear. The panic. The despair. You almost couldn’t believe this is the same man who you gifted your trust, who you allowed to bed you in Asgard. All of that was thrown away now, whatever you were before…it meant nothing now that you were standing on opposite ends of the battlefield. This isn’t what you wanted though, and you knew that. He knew that. It changed nothing. The moment he sensed even the slightest betrayal on you, the two of you were done. “Why so quiet? Your last few moments of life and really you have nothing to say? I am profoundly unimpressed. I truly expected more out of you.” He shrugged as he continued his stroll towards you. You looked up and down, side to side, trying to find anything that would save you. You were so focused on your escape attempt you hadn’t realized how close he had gotten until you felt his hand on your chin, turning you to look up at him. You were met with purple glowing eyes and a sneer. “Are you being shy now? You weren’t shy the other day when you were… mewling for me. This is really no fun Sunshine. If you’re going to be a traitor, at least have the guts to back it up.” ‘Heimdall please.’ You said in your head as you trembled under his touch. He searched your face for a moment, scanning you up and down. “Now that I think about it, perhaps I should bend you over right here and see what other noises I can get you to make for me.” Your face went absolutely red at the comment, you weren’t completely sure if it was from fear, shame, or arousal…you settled on all three. “Actually, I am sure that’s what I am going to do.” Heimdall leaned forward and licked your earlobe before whispering to you. “Be a good girl for me.”

“H-Heimdall..” You trembled when you said his name. “C’mon it doesn’t need to be like this…you know I never wanted to betray you, I still don’t.” You desperately brought a memory to the forefront of your mind.

The All Father had for the first time in a long time been upset with Heimdall. Odin had compared him to Thor and Baldur, calling him useless in a fit of anger. You had never seen the golden God so defeated looking before.

“Heimdall…I just don’t think you give yourself enough credit.” The man scoffed at you. “I think I give myself plenty of credit. I am the Scion of the Aseir, the Watchmen of the Gods, I hold Gjallhorn and will Herald in -” You had cut him off with a small fit of laughter. “That’s exactly what I mean, Heimdall. You’re more than just those titles. You’re an actual living breathing person ya know? Think about it, what happens after Ragnarok, when there’s nothing left to Herald in and there are no more enemies?” You’d never forget the look on his face when you said that. You had spent the rest of the night talking to him, doing your best to comfort him in a way that wouldn’t offend him or make him think you pity him. Somehow your talk had led to kissing, and from kissing to more. You could see Heimdall’s face change slightly for a moment as he saw the memory in your mind. You couldn’t discern the emotion he had on display. “It matters not.” He said. “I saw the betrayal in your mind when you spoke to the Jotunn brat. Bringing up memories to try and manipulate me won’t work.” “Heimdall… for once look past your initial perception, please. You’re right I DON’T bow to Odin, I never will. But you…I would never betray you.” “A betrayal of Odin is a betrayal to me.” “Does it have to be? You protect Asgard, the realm you love so much right? If we can defeat Odin, maybe Asgard doesn’t need to be destroyed during Ragnarok.” You thought of something else, the future you envisioned with him. A shared bed in Himinbjorg, lazily riding Gulltoppr together in the sunset over the fields of Asgard, making love in an open field under the stars.

You watched his brows knit in a look of muddled emotions. “Manipulative little….” he stopped. He had you caged against the wall, putting both of his hands on either side of your face, his eyes closing. Every time he looked into yours, he saw more things that brought about pain for him. It would’ve been easier if you just assumed the role of the traitor. When he opened his eyes again, he met yours directly, he was frozen in place. He saw himself in your mind. The way you saw him, the way you felt about him. The hues of your love were warm reds and oranges, like waves in a sunset that crashed over him. For his whole life he had only felt he was any value to Odin. He would compete against his brothers knowing it was never love he would receive in return. Praise? Sure. Adoration? Maybe a little. Love? Never. “Heimdall..” You said his name almost in a whisper, putting your hand on his cheeks and rubbing them soothingly. He seemed to snap back to reality as he looked down at you. “Sunshine…” He leaned forward and captured your lips with his own, softly. “You really think you can defeat the All Father? Don’t answer that, you really do.” “Well… to be fair Heimdall, if you’re with us who does Odin really have left? We both know Thor’s heart was stained against him the moment his sons died.” Heimdall considered your words for a moment. He thought back to the beautiful visions you crafted in your sweet head for him to see. Maybe those were a future worth fighting for. “Fine.” He said crashing his lips into yours again, pulling you into a tight hug. “Fine, Sunshine. But only for the chance to see those cute tits in an Asgardian field.” His words made you blush, and you didn’t expect anything less from Heimdall, romantic flattery was never truly his style. “First though….. I still wanna see what pretty little sounds I can get out of you.” You gawked at him. ‘He can’t be serious, right here? What if someone walks by.’ You thought to yourself. “Let them watch then.” He said with a shrug. “Then they will know that you’re mine.” He pressed you back against the wall kissing your mouth before he placed a trail of kisses down to your jaw and neck, nipping every few spots. The kisses were sweet and had your heart fluttering, until he sucked hard on your collar bone, getting you to yelp. You knew a purple mark was forming there already. Heimdall seemed pleased with that noise as he slid his fingers up over your dress, undoing the string keeping it to you and allowing it to slide off. The cool air of Vanaheim caused you to shudder a little. “Don’t worry, if you’re a good girl for me I’ll make sure you’re nice and warm by the time we’re done.” He continued with his mouth, crouching a little so he could suck one of your hardening nipples. Another delicious mixture of a yelp and a moan. He worked your other nipple with his hand as his mouth continue down your stomach, placing hickies, kisses, and love bites as he went. “You’re gorgeous, you know that Sunshine?” He didn’t give you much chance to respond as he began kissing the inside of your thighs. He loved the way your legs trembled under him. “Sensitive, sensitive.” He teased, kissing everywhere but the one spot that you wanted. He could already see how wet you were and he chuckled. “All for me? I’m honored.” You were almost panting by the time he lifted you up by your waist, he held you high enough against the wall that he could stand and be face to face with your little wet pussy. You loved how strong he was, the way he seemed to be able to hold you like a feather. He leaned forward and lapped at your pussy slowly, dragging his tongue from your sopping hole to your clit with a couple of lazy licks. The feeling had you reeling already. “Heimdall…” You moaned out his name. He smiled against your wetness, he knew what he did to you, and he loved it. He then dove in, devouring your pussy like it was his last meal, lapping from hole to clit before sucking on the little pleasure bead. If he didn’t have a good grip on your legs you would have clamped them around his head, a mortal man’s may have popped like a watermelon. “That’s my girl, making all those pretty noises for me. That’s what I wanna hear.” He kisses your clit before teasing and sucking on it more and more. You feel wound up, the nice tense ball of heat in your lower region felt like it was about to burst. You covered your mouth with your hands, worried that if you screamed too loud it would draw the attention of others. When he saw that you did this he stopped completely, you let out a disappointed whine as he set you down. “What did I say? I wanted to hear all the pretty noises my Sunshine has to make, so there will be none of that.” He says motioning to your hands. He slipped off his belt and tightened around your wrists, not enough to hurt, just tight enough that he was able to hook your hands on a branch that was sticking through the stone wall, immobilizing you. “Much better!” He said lifting your heat up to his face again. Your cheeks were burning red, you wanted to protest but hadn’t the time when he resumed his attack on you, lapping at your clit. He used his left hand to hold your hip, legs tossed over his shoulders for support. He used his right hand to slide two of his fingers into your core, matching the speed with what his tongue was doing to you. You screamed. The ball of heat in your stomach finally burst and you came screaming, your juices dripping down his mouth and chin. He set you down gently and you were grateful for the branch now, as you wouldn’t be able to stand on your own with how your legs shook with aftershocks of your orgasm. You watched as he removed his bracers, tunic, and the undershoot. You admired his lean muscle in the moonlight, lit only by the few fire torches set around the area. You could see his erection was straining against his dark pants, and you unconsciously licked your lips thinking about it, which did not go unnoticed by him. He undid his pants just enough to let his throbbing cock spring free, precum already leaking out of the tip. “That look on your face sweetheart, is this what you’re wanting?” He asked gesturing down to his cock.

You nodded dumbly, your eyes already hazed over with the lust from your first orgasm. By this point you didn’t care who heard, all you could think about was Heimdall. His taste, his smell, the idea of having him stuff you completely. He could read what you wanted easily. “Say it. Say it outloud Sunshine, what do you want.” “Please Heimdall…I want to feel you inside of me.”

Heimdall smiled, lifting your legs up again to align himself at your hole. He pushed in slowly as and groaned at the nice friction against himself until he bottomed out inside of you. He stood there unmoving, besides the thumb he decided to rub against your cheek. “You’re so gorgeous like this you know.” His hand on your hip prevented you from moving and squirming for any kind of friction. He was just enjoying being so close to you…and of course the feelings of frustration floating through your pretty head. “What’s wrong? Is this not enough for you?” He chuckled. “All you said was that you wanted to feel me inside of you, and inside of you I am.” He teased but leaned forward to suck on your bottom lip when he saw the pout that formed. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.” “Please Heimdall….just…please fuck me…wanna feel you move…” You whined trying to squirm in his grasp. He leaned forward giving you one last kiss. “As you wish Sunshine.” He said pulling out to the tip before slamming back in. The noise you made was euphoric for him, only second to the way your walls clamped around him. He pulled out again and began to thrust into your heat at a steady pace, pleasurable for you both. He drank in the little mewls and whimpers he was able to pull from your mouth. “Such a good girl, taking all of me, making beautiful music for me too.” When he felt he was close, he used his thumb to rub circles on your clit in time with his thrusting. “That’s in, cum for me one more time.” He cooed picking up the pace, again you felt yourself spasm and cry out for your second more intense orgasm. Heimdall’s thrusts were more erratic as he was close, finishing inside you with hot ropes of his cum. He took a moment to catch his breath before pulling out of you and undoing the belt keeping your hands up. He made sure your were steady on your feet and helped you back into your clothing as he redressed himself as well. There was a brief silence between you, but not uncomfortable. He heard the thought in your head and turned to face you. “Y/N….I love you too,” he replied before leaning down to kiss you again. This kiss was different, not lustfull, but deep and passionate, your heart nearly cried when you heard him say the words back to you. He helped lift you onto Gulltoppr’s saddle so you could sit behind him. “If you really think you can convince that group of idiots to let me help…then I suppose we should be off.” “They’re not idiots, Heimdall.” “I’ll be the judge of that.” He said pulling the reins so the large beast began to move. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his back. This was never the outcome you had expected, but you were fluttering inside with joy at just knowing there was a chance for you two. “I love you.” You whispered out loud into his back. He gave a dramatic sigh. “I love you too.” He said again.

[yuelaos-codex]

im sorry. i lied on my previous post

[keylana-dragon]

oh, these kids

(i know heim really likes to babysit)

[lavenderqrts]

all i can think abt when i see heimdall is just him getting ready in the morning & braiding his hair

[x1702x]

There was an attempt to doodle Heimdall

[lop-g-moved]

Commission Info

LOP-G commission info

Commission info and prices for LOP-G

[fa-800]

More shitty memes 😔