“Open Your Heart.”

'Queen Of The Valkyries' by Jisoo Kim.

Part of the 'God Of War: 20th Anniversary' art exhibition at Gallery Nucleus.

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God of War: Ragnarök - Goddess of Dreams

This is a request from my friend @stellarswagsuave! They asked me to write something small, but I really enjoyed this so I may turn it into a small series!

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You're the goddess of dreams and of the night, daughter of Freya and Odin, younger sister of Baldur (and of Thor, but he hardly acknowledges you as such, which is perfectly fine by you). Your name is Njörun Odinsdottir (pronounced "Nyo-roon").

You were young, when your mother left your father and when he put you in a near unbreakable sleep to get back at her. 

You were cast into the familiar realm of dreams, your own domain. Once, it was lovely, beautiful, and comforting. But it became your prison, and your own personal Hel, you were trapped in an endless nightmare. Everyday it was something new, something devastating, something horrible. 

You still saw dreams, but you were almost… disconnected from them. As if you were watching behind a window of sorts. 

You were found by an aged god and his son, surely because of the familiar face of Mimir that was now only a head tied around the older gods waist. When they woke you, you had thought it was still a nightmare. 

The dismembered head has that effect. Especially when the man holding said dismembered head was an unwelcoming, unfamiliar god.

It got worse when you saw snow on the ground. That could only mean one thing, Ragnarök was coming, your older brother was dead. 

You couldn't help yourself when you blindly attacked the younger one, Atreus. Your pain and confusion blinded you, and because you hadn't had access to your magic in so long, it was able to take control of you and your movements.

But because you were so out of practice, Kratos and Atreus were able to disarm you easily. Even with the rage of night stealing their vision and hitting their chests. 

Atreus had held you back as Mimir spoke.

"Lass, you're safe now… this isn't a trick." "How do I believe that… After everything, tell me. How, Mimir, you're the wisest man in all the realms, tell me how I believe you." "You get up, dust yourself off, and do your best."

That was that. 

The older god, Kratos, was quiet. He didn't say much, just occasionally grunted. You appreciated that, most gods were loud and egotistical. 

Mimir had convinced him to let you tag along, seeing as you would rather die than face your father in Asgard again, your brother was dead, and you had no idea where your mother even was. Odin had put you to sleep before you were able to locate her after she left.

Atreus wanted to know everything about you as soon as possible, he had never met another god his age. Let alone another god that didn't want to hurt them, as he said.

"Who are you? Why would Odin imprison you? How do you know Mimir?" "Atreus, let her breath lad. She just woke up from a very long nap." "It's okay, Mimir. My name is Njörun Odinsdottir. Odin imprisoned me as an act of malice and revenge against my mother, and Mimir was still in service of Odin before I went to sleep."

"You are a daughter of Odin?" "Yes, she is, but brother I can vouch when I say this young lass is not nearly as wicked as that blundering bastard." "Hm."

Those were some of the first words you'd heard Kratos say and, truthfully, they made you nervous. You'd seen his nightmares, you knew of his past, and though you didn't doubt he had definitely changed— you also knew it was never a good idea to piss off a god. 

But, after sometime, you'd like to believe you grew on them. 

And during that time you had seen more of their dreams and realized that they often dreamt of the same woman. Red hair, tall, loyal, but most of all, she was kind. She was loving. 

When you had finally gathered the nerve to ask about her, they were both quiet. You thought for sure you had crossed a line, but then Kratos spoke.

"You both dream of a woman… Who is she?" "...My wife, Faye, Atreus' mother." 

He didn't say anymore and you certainly weren't going to push your luck, but then Atreus spoke up.

"She was amazing. Father and I spread her ashes on the highest peak in all the realms about two and a half years ago." "The highest peak… You travelled to Jötunheim?" "It's what she wanted."

You decided to, again, not push your luck and leave that conversation there. It wasn't your place to question and push. 

Then, one fateful day, as the three of you were returning back to Kratos and Atreus' home from a hunt, you were attacked. 

By Freya.

Coming face to face with your mother, who looked so… different. So angry. It shook you to your core. 

Yes, she had left. Yes, she didn't take you with her and left you at Odin's hard-won mercy. But she'd never, ever been so… broken.

You knew Baldur was dead and Mimir had told you the story of how he had died. It didn't ease the pain, but it helped you deal with it. Looking at your mother, you had a feeling she fell down the emotional rabbit hole of anger and sorrow.

Freya faltered when she saw you, her sword falling into the snow as you stepped closer, Atreus and Kratos keeping their guard up behind you.

"Mother?" "...Njörun? My girl you have… you've returned to me at last." 

You embraced, knowing that you both needed it.

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mimir to kratos

idgaf if you would still love me if i was a worm so don't even worry about that. but if i was a severed head would you carry me around with you.

One of my favorite headcanons I have, is that most superheroes fight in a very uniform fashion. They have training, and they’ve been doing this for a while, so most of them fight like someone who knows what they’re doing and understands body language. Peter Parker however.

He never got training. He got bitten by a spider, watched his uncle die in front of him, and then said “fuck it, we ball” and sewed a spider logo on a red hoodie to go combat gang violence. He has NO CLUE how to fight, so naturally, he fights like he just escaped from an asylum.

Where most hero’s would be pinned against a wall, he just starts kicking their shins. Where most hero’s would have a hand over there mouth, he has a hand in biting distance. Where most hero’s have an opening to sweep the leg, Peter has an opening to kick them in the groin so hard they fall to the ground sobbing.

The first time Iron-man, or any hero for that matter, sees him fight, they genuinely think he doesn’t think the fight is hard and is experimenting because he’s using none of the right tactics, and some things that aren’t even tactics. And then they say “hey, what style of fighting was that? I’ve never seen it before.” And he just stares at them like “that was a style called I’m a child soldier who doesn’t know what the hell is going on at any given moment and biting works”

Sorry for not posting for ten thousand years. Anyway yeah I love the striders (and I love this song)