Disclaimer: …Of course I own Loki. Yeah. Masako Moonshade is really a pseudonym for whoever really owns it. And if you believe that, I'd like to sell you this cow that gives chocolate milk.
AN: Yep. I'm pretty sure that it's a rite of passage for Authors on this site to write tons of unrelated drabbles and stick them into the same story. So, since I feel like it, I shall become a true Fanfiction Author! And for reference, this is based loosely off the real myth behind Freya's necklace (I love snooping about mythology). In the Norse legend, it's Loki who steals it, and Heimdall is the one who chases him, fights him, and eventually wins it back and presents it to her. Though I doubt it would ever happen, I fully offer my support. Please don't shoot me.
Heimdall glanced over with some interest as Freyr fumed. This in itself was a unique sight—he was usually such a cheerful god.
"Curse that wretched Loki…" the oddly dressed deity grumbled, accompanied by some incoherent nonsense from his mechanical boar. Heimdall raised an eyebrow.
"Did he give you a bad pastry or something?" he mused.
"No," Freyr snapped. "He's seducing my baby sister! The villain!" At this, Heimdall nodded.
"He's completely wrong for her," he said knowingly.
"He's irresponsible!" Freyr added indignantly.
"Immature."
"Perverted!"
"A real lowlife."
"Completely inconsiderate!"
"Foul tempered."
"And absolutely untrustworthy," Freyr concluded, somewhat appeased by their combined list of the Trickster's shortcomings.
"I would never act so irresponsibly," Heimdall nodded sagely, a slight, cheerful thought entering his somber head.
"Exactly! You, my friend, are respectable!" Heimdall glanced at Freyr.
"So I've got your blessing?" he mused casually. His roommate stopped short.
"For what?" he asked.
"Freya is still available, right?"