#we love thor on this blog okie?

[heimdallsbraids]

Blood of Mine | Ch. 5 (Heimdall x fem!reader)

Summary: Life is pretty simple. Survive the harsh conditions of Fimbulwinter in Midgard, trade with your dwarven friends in Svartalfheim and – avoid the shit out of Odin’s most loyal lapdog? If word reaches the All-Father about your blood-bending origins, you’re doomed… (Hints of Avatar: TLA, but not a crossover)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity

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Chapter Five: Aftermath

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!

The door to your room rattled in the wooden frame as you slammed it behind you. You didn’t care. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to tear open and swallow you whole. Barely a week and a half of life in Asgard, and you were completely, utterly, royally fucked!

Heimdall, of all the bloody people, had figured you out, and you made the stupid mistake of offering him anything he wanted to keep his mouth shut. You were surprised he even accepted it in the first place, fully expecting him to waltz right into the All-Father’s office and blab about everything like the loyal lapdog he was, but he hadn’t. And that made you nervous. Angry, even.

What could he possibly want from you? You had no money, no influence, no special anything to offer the high-ranking Aesir God – except for your blood-bending, of course, but you knew that didn’t interest him nearly as much as it would his father. So, what was it then?

You grit your teeth. You’d have to wait and find out, and you had a sure feeling he was going to take his sweet-ass time with it, too, if the way he acted earlier was of any indication.

You clenched your fists as you entered the great hall, grudgingly following in the footsteps of your latest nightmare. His gait was still an overly confident saunter, but there was an edge to it now, as if he knew something everyone else didn’t – which was completely and utterly accurate, much to your chagrin.

“What do you like?” He asked suddenly.

You had to process his words for a moment until you realised he was asking what you wanted to eat. He held a bowl in one hand, patiently waiting for you to answer him. His expression remained neutral, but you knew he was enjoying this immensely on the inside.

“I… really don’t care,” you mumbled in reply. You doubt you’d even have the stomach for it anyway.

That was how you winded up with a plateful of the most unappetising cut of meat you’ve ever seen in your life and nothing else. You fought the urge to toss it in his face as he sat there munching on a block of cheese beside you, those bifröst eyes of his never once leaving your form. It was unnerving, to say the least, and it certainly didn’t help that you felt the eyes of many others watching the odd scene unfold before them.

You pushed your bowl away with disgust. “Can you stop? Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he blinked, idly picking at the food on his plate as he continued to watch you.

“Ugh, my… fucking god.” You leaned your elbows on the table and buried your face in your hands. It wasn’t until a familiar voice called your name that you looked up. “Thrúd?”

You twisted in your seat to see the young teen quickly approaching. She looked out of breath, almost like she’d run here. A puzzled expression marred her delicate features once she reached you, her eyes bouncing between you and her uncle. Had she been searching for you?

“What are you doing?” She sneered at him, blue eyes blazing with suspicion.

A click of his tongue. “Eating, clearly. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?”

“I meant, why are you eating with her?” She reiterated through clenched teeth, looking as though she was ready for round two of their fight from earlier.

This successfully got the cocky Aesir to look at something other than you. He rotated on the spot to face his niece completely, crossing one ankle over the other as he leaned an elbow back onto the table. It reminded you of a lazy cat stretching out over a cosy surface, completely unbothered by the situation.

“Can’t two people enjoy a meal together?” He asked finally, raising his brows at her.

“Since when do you eat with anyone? You’re a loner!”

The low jab flew in one ear and out the other as his attention strayed back to you. “I believe that’s between you and me, wouldn’t you say, sunshine?”

You wanted to scream at him. Was he really expecting you to play along like this? In front of everyone? In front of Thrúd? He tilted his head forward, waiting, daring you to say otherwise.

“Sure.” You concurred, sounding entirely unconvincing.

“See?” He waved a hand at her, feigning an innocent smile as he spun back around. “Now, do run along, child. It’s way past your bedtime.”

She didn’t. Instead, she looked at you, waiting for you to give her the cue to hit him. You shook your head tiredly, “S’fine. I’ll catch up with you another time, yeah?”

Her shoulders fell slightly, and she reluctantly backed off with a nod. You knew she didn’t believe him for a second, but what else could you do? If you said anything, you would be breaking the unspoken rule of your shaky agreement with Heimdall. If you were to tell anyone of your blackmail situation, you could kiss your sweet freedom goodbye. Besides, you were mouthier than you probably should be to him, considering he practically held your future in his hands.

You remained in your seat for the better part of an hour, waiting for him to give you some notion that he was done with you or that he was leaving, but he didn’t, and you eventually had to ask the bastard if you could retire for the night. That was when he let you go, but not without leaning in nice and close to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll be seeing you, sunshine.”

You shivered at the memory as you pinched the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. “That senseless, disgusting, infuriating son of a-!”

A knock on the door made you freeze mid-rant. “Hey, is everything alright in there?”

It was Sif, you realised. Had Thrúd told her something was up?

You called out, not wanting another face-to-face interaction for the rest of the night. “Yeah, just,” wanting to throw myself out the window, “-getting ready for bed!”

Thankfully, she didn’t press any further, and you finally found it in you to lay down and get some well-deserved shuteye.

The next day came faster than you would have liked. It felt like you’d drifted off for a total of two minutes, and suddenly it was bright outside again, birds happily chirping in the distance, taunting you. You groaned, wanting nothing more than to roll over and head right back to sleep, but you knew the kitchen staff was expecting you, so you finally dragged yourself out of bed and got ready.

You probably looked a fright as you all but stumbled into the kitchen and threw your apron on, ready to hurry up and finish so you could go back to sulking. On a positive note, Heimdall was nowhere to be seen on your stealthy trek through the great hall, most likely already standing guard on the wall.

“You okay, kid?” Jörgen asked as you awaited his orders.

“Peachy!” You exclaimed, giving him what you hoped was your friendliest smile. It probably looked more like you’d sucked on a sour lemon. A really potent one.

“Right.” He deadpanned, looking unsure. He shook his head, “Anyway, your dish was a success! What’d I tell you? You had nothing to worry about!”

Your brows raised in honest surprise. “Really? He ate it?”

“Actually, from what I heard, someone else did.” He clapped you on the back. “Don’t worry. It’s still good news! It means the Gods like your food! The bad news is you probably won’t be the All-Father’s personal chef anytime soon, which means no promotions for you.”

You were put on soup and stew duty after that, paired with the two servant girls who’d been giggling at your expense yesterday, thanks to Amir’s flirtatious antics. It turns out the young man was off working in the crops today, hence his absence. It was a blessing in disguise, really, since you weren’t in the mood for any of that at the moment. Perhaps another time. The man was good-looking, after all, and you’d be crazy to pass up a good distraction – if that’s what he was looking for anyway.

Though dull and repetitive, the work was calming on your mind, and the shift was over before you knew it, your fellow staff bidding you farewell as you hung your apron on its designated hook. Now that you’ve been out of your room for a while, you didn’t much feel like going back in, so you found yourself aimlessly wandering the streets, your mind going crazy as it filtered through thought after thought about what you were going to do next.

Should you even bother staying in Asgard? Realistically, nothing was tying you here – you were here purely through invitation only. Sure, it came from the top dog himself, but that didn’t mean he’d keep you here against your will… right? Would he let you leave if you asked him? Was Heimdall right in saying the man already knew who you were? What you were? You hadn’t seen much of elusive God since he placed you under the care of his fiery granddaughter almost two weeks prior, choosing to spend his time in his study or venture out on personal business the last time you’d heard.

You huffed, striking a pebble with the tip of your boot, watching it as it skipped a few paces along the jagged stone path. A cold wind blowing through you snapped you from your inner turmoil, and you halted, glancing around. The sun had disappeared behind the giant wall, casting a long, dark shadow over the city as night-time loomed. Locals were disappearing inside to be with their families, the bright candlelights flickering and dancing through the windows of their homes.

You cussed under your breath. You hadn’t meant to wander for so long, your rampaging thoughts clearly getting the best of you, and hurriedly began the trek back to the lodge. Upon reaching the courtyard out front, you resumed a stealthier approach, glancing around and taking note of the lack of soldiers posted around the area. Where was everyone?

Only as you crept closer to the building did you hear the loud noises and cheering from inside. You reeled back just as the front doors burst open to release a rowdy group of Einherjar, yelling and shouting as they stumbled outside with their tankards full of what was no doubt mead. Carefully manoeuvring around them, you stepped inside and were immediately greeted with a fully packed-out great hall. Music played, food was passed around, and people mingled in large groups. It was the busiest, most crowded place you’ve ever been in. The air was thick, and you barely had room to step aside as a servant shot past you with a tray full of more mead.

You were by no means tiny, but you had a tough time seeing over everyone’s shoulders as you tried and failed to make your way to your room. Nevertheless, you were relieved as you spotted a certain strawberry-blonde teen in the distance, calling out to her with a little jump and wave so she’d see you.

“Hey! I was hoping to see you here,” she smiled, linking arms with you. “There’s someone I want you to meet!”

Her enthused energy was beginning to rub off on you as she divided a path through the crowd to the front end of the long dining table. Your eyes widened slightly as you spotted the hulking man accompanying Sif, practically dwarfing her as she sat perched upon his lap. He had long, somewhat messy red hair with a beard to match, and the stormiest blue eyes you’d ever seen. You knew who he was the second you laid eyes on the mighty hammer attached to his hip.

Holy shit, Thor’s her dad?

The beast of a man acknowledged you with a barely noticeable nod as his daughter introduced you. Unfortunately, what would’ve been a pleasant introduction quickly turned into a long-winded tale about the enemy he’d hunted and taken down in Midgard – hence the abrupt celebration upon his return. Sif was all smiles, but you could tell even she was losing interest the longer he raved. It was admittedly awkward as Thrúd pulled you away to a more private corner so she could speak to you quietly, leaving the husband-and-wife duo to entertain the crowd.

You were immediately bombarded with question after question about where you’d been all day and why you were sitting with her uncle last night. You huddled closer to the wall, anxiously searching through the throngs of people for a pair of narrowed bifröst eyes.

“Whoa, shush up! What if he hears?” You hissed, motioning for her to quiet down.

She scoffed. “He won’t hear anything, he’s not even here! He can’t stand huge crowds like this.” Your shoulders relaxed slightly, and she exhaled. “What happened yesterday? Why did he drag you off like that?”

“How should I know? You’re the one that hit him!”

You didn’t miss the way her lips twitched upward, attempting to hold back a victorious grin. You knew she’d never let him live that one down. However, her focus remained on you. “Did he do something to you?”

You appreciated that she cared enough to ask, but she was unintentionally making this more complicated than it needed to be.

“Look,” you sighed, folding your arms. “I may have done something to piss him off, but I promise it’s nothing I can’t handle. He doesn’t scare me, Thrúd.”

That was a white lie, of course. Normal Heimdall, you could manage – he was no more than a typical bully searching for his next victim to play with. But when he was threatening your livelihood and throwing you around like you weighed less than a sack of feathers? That’s when he was intimidating. You’d never felt that level of contempt from anyone before, let alone had it aimed toward you.

“Stop worrying!” You asserted when she didn’t respond straight away.

“How can I not? He’s a right psycho when he wants to be! At least let me tell my dad. I’m sure there’s something he can-”

“No!” You cried, catching the attention of those standing close by. You grasped her by the shoulders, squeezing. “Just let me deal with this. Besides, he’ll probably grow tired of me eventually. I’m sure of it.”

I’m really not.

Despite the frown still tugging at her lips, she hummed in reluctant agreement. You were relieved, to say the least. The last thing you needed was her and her father provoking the guy into telling Odin everything. You’d already messed up once; you sure as Hel didn’t need to mess up again.

All too aware of how you got off scot-free today, you politely turned down her offer of joining the celebration in favour of crawling into bed and enjoying what little peace you have left before the blond God would be on your case again.

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

The Snow (1)

Pairing: Loki x Child! reader 

warning: none 

Summary: Sequel to ‘The Rain’. Reader meets Thor, Bruce, and Loki. She accidently tags along in their adventures. Along the way she helps Loki.

Note: This is the sequel to The Rain this will be taking place during Thor: Ragnarok two months after the fight I know that’s not the real time line but bare with me. I’m thinking about making this a trilogy once Infinity Wars comes out. If you haven’t seen Thor: Ragnarok *SPOILER ALERT* and if you wished to be untagged let me know.

The Rain

It had been two months fight. Rhodey was limping but on his feet never the less. Tony was healing more thanks to Peter and his frequent vacations than (y/n). And (y/n), she was being home schooled and trained in the tower by trusted people.

Everything was pretty okay, you could say, since the fight anyways. (y/n) still sent letters and pictures to Captain’s team as well as short phone calls just to hear their voices. (y/n) was living the average mutant life with a superhero, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

“Happy, Happy, Happy” (y/n) sang 

“yes, yes, yes” He sang entertaining the child

“can you take me to the Library”

“why do you want to go to the library, you have a tablet for books”. It had been a weekly routine to take (y/n) to the library three times a week.

“I like the librarians. Also keeping my eyes on a screen all day isn’t good Doctor said” (y/n) smiled as took Happy’s sunglasses out of his pocket put them on then ran to the car “to the land of knowledge”. 

On the way to the library they sang along to Frank Sinatra’s My Way. The two always sang along and did karaoke in the car. Unlike Peter, (y/n) was Happy’s favorite person he enjoyed her company. And not Peter and his hormonal, rebellious, spidey teen self.

Speak on the spider and he shall bite. “dammit” Happy said looking down at his phone.

“language. What’s wrong? are we not going?” the two had just arrived and parked

“Afraid not sweetheart. Spider-boy is being a pest. Maybe next time”

“wait, wait, can I stay? two hours tops. The librarians will watch me and you could watch me through security cameras”

“I don’t know kid”

“I can take care of myself . Drown anyone who comes to close”.

Happy eyed her through the review mirror “alright.” (y/n) cheered “here’s your phone keep it on you at all times. I’ll be back in 2 hours. Don’t leave until I come get you ,okay?

“Okie dokie. Bye, Bye” (y/n) hopped out of the car. Happy watched her take off up the steps of the library one of the Librarians open the door for her and gave a thumbs up to Happy. He wasn’t worried. He and (y/n) had come so often everyone on the block knew and kept eyes out for them.

She’d be fine.

Totally .... not.

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