#『🌈 』 — confession booth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

half-of-a-gay · 1 month ago

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PLEASEE PART 5 OF SEV X MANAGER READER PLS!! we miss it

[A/N: Hi tiny people in my screen! HAPPY PRIDEEE!!!🌈 Hope you're having a good day/night wherever you are. I had a shitty exam today so i finished this as a consolation prize. Hope you enjoy it, looking forward to any feedback 😘 ... BTW I got some cool ideas/requests from you guys that I'll get to after my exams.]

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 ... Masterlist

PART 5:

Rugby player!Sevika x Team manager!Reader

After that night on your couch - after the tears and the clumsy honesty - you and Sevika made a quiet decision. No grand declarations. No team-wide announcements.

You never really sat down to talk about what this was but you didn’t need to. The way she kissed you when she left your apartment the next morning was answer enough. So from now on it would just be the two of you.

It wasn’t about hiding; it was about keeping what you had. Holding it close, where it felt safe. Yours before it could become anyone else’s business. Before opinions or rumors or sidelong glances had the chance to chip away at the quiet thing blooming between you.

So, you kept it to yourselves. And for a few weeks, it was sweet in a way that made your teeth ache. But Sevikas teammates weren’t blind, especially since they were already very aware of your situationship and are very invested in it.

They became very observant. They saw the way Sevika showed up early now and that she smiled more. Her lips would lift at the corners whenever her gaze got caught on you. And they teased her for it, of course. Relentlessly. Especially Ran. But she didn’t crack. If you wanted it private, she’d keep it private - even if it meant enduring Vi’s dramatic reenactments of how she imagined the confession scene went down and pretending like she didn’t scroll back through your texts during lunch breaks just to reread your emoji-laced commentary on your last hangout.

And oh god, the diner.

It becomes your favourite place.

Every Friday night, without fail, she picks you up in that beat-up car she refuses to upgrade, and you let her take you to the booth in the corner - the one that was the most hidden from any prying eyes, the one that used to belong to her and her mom.

Now it’s yours, too.

She always orders cherry pie. You try something different each week. She always ends up eating half of yours too.

The waitress winks at her when you slide in beside her instead of across.

“This one’s special, huh?” she asks one night, over the counter, while Sevika was just trying to pay for the pie in peace. She blushes so hard and nearly chokes on her own spit, her hands halting from counting out the bills.

You pretend not to notice, despite being within earshot. You definitely noticed and it definitely made your face warm too.

The nights that you didn’t spend in the diner you’d cook together. She’s big and clumsy in the kitchen, constantly bumping into drawers and low-hanging shelves. One night, you’re in her hoodie - barefoot, leaning against her kitchen island, stirring something in a pot and she slides behind you, wraps her arms around your waist, and rests her chin on your shoulder. She doesn’t say anything. Just breathes with you for a minute. You end up burning the garlic, too caught up in her. You blame her for it of course and she retaliates by flicking water at you from the sink.

The quiet mornings that follow those nights might be your favourite. Sevika is not a morning person. You learn this quickly. She shuffles out of your bed in bare feet, hair sticking in every direction, muttering about the “offensive volume” of the kettle. She glares at it like it owes her money. But she still always gets up to make coffee so you don’t have to, and brings it back to bed so you can both share a few more quiet moments together. She never says why.

You watch her settle back into bed with one of your mugs - that she’s claimed for herself - clutched in both hands, eyes half-shut, blanket sliding off one shoulder. She looks soft like this. Real. Untouchable in a way that has nothing to do with strength or arrogance and everything to do with safety. You crawl beside her and she lets her arm fall around your back like it’s the most natural thing to her.

There were more dates, too. Late-night walks. Sharing headphones on the train. Sometimes she’d drive you out of the city just for a bit of quiet, windows down, her hand resting on your knee as the wind tangled her hair.

Movie nights at your apartment with cheesy movies she’d never admit to liking - but she stayed the whole time, curled up on top of you, with her face tucked under your jaw, mumbling about how “this scene was bullshit” but refusing to move. You’d just press a kiss to her temple as an apology for making her endure such horrors. Then you’d close your eyes too, and fall asleep there prepared to deal with the aching back for her.

Another time, she showed up at your door half-asleep, hoodie pulled over her face, mumbling about a “rough day” and her “shoulder acting up.” You didn’t even pretend to fight it. You just opened your arms. And she crawled in like it was her favourite place in the world.

At practice, you try to act professional. You keep your eyes on your planner or on literally anything that isn’t the way she stretches, sweat glinting across her collarbone, her eyes constantly flicking in your direction. You try to stay neutral but she makes it very hard without even knowing. She’d catch your eye from across the field and it was enough to make your chest tighten. She always looked away first, but you’d see the corner of her mouth twitch. Just a little. Like she was barely fighting a smile.

You didn’t touch where anyone could see. But when no one was looking?

A hand brushing yours under the bleachers. A kiss stolen in the hallway outside the locker rooms. The rush of her hand on your hip as she pulled you into the shadow of a stairwell and whispered something like “Hi, boss,” against your mouth before stealing your breath entirely.

Keeping things private was easy at first. You were good at being subtle about it. Or so you thought.

Because what you didn’t realize (even though Sevika was already very aware of this) was that the team had already guessed.

Or rather, the team knew. And they were not being cool about it. For a while it didn't go further than the harmless jokes but they slowly became more and more curious and boulder as your relationship progressed. They didn’t know everything, but they knew enough. And the more Sevika avoided talking about it, the worse it got.

Ran led the charge, obviously. “So, how’s our favorite mysterious manager situation going?”

Vi snorted. “I swear she gets one flirty text and suddenly she’s jogging to warm-ups.” Ran leaned in, grinning. “Is that why you keep showing up smelling like a Calvin Klein store?”

Sevika scowled from her bench, towel around her neck, halfway through unlacing her cleats. “You’re all nosy as hell.”

“That means we’re right,” Vi sings, smug.

She didn’t rise to it. Not really. She just grunted, grabbed her water, and kept her head down.

But that made it worse, obviously.

“C’mon,” Ran drawled. “You’re glowing. Like, annoyingly happy. That’s gotta be at least second-base energy.”

“She won’t crack,” Vi stage-whispered. “I’ve tried everything. Emotional manipulation. Even puppy eyes.”

“She’s like a vault,” Ran sighed dramatically. “Stupidly loyal. It’s disgusting.”

“Must be love,” someone else added.

Sevika finally rolled her eyes but the tips of her ears were burning bright red. “If I ask the coach to increase conditioning, will you all shut up?”

Vi and Ran kept going but Sevika learned to tune them long before you started dating - a skill that was proving essential lately. What really grated on her nerves, though, was Number 9.

She never stopped hovering. Always too close. She’d dialed it up even more lately, like Sevika’s disinterest was a challenge instead of a boundary.

And Sevika was done being polite. She had already stopped engaging, already started stepping away mid-sentence, already answered every playful shove with deadpan silence. She thought the message was clear.

Apparently not.

Number 9 slid in beside her after practice like she owned the spot. Nudged Sevika’s knee with hers. Too familiar. Too comfortable.

“Hey,” she said. “You doing anything after?”

Sevika didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

A beat.

“With the manager again?” Number 9 asked, trying to sound testing but it came out flat, sour.

Sevika finally turned to look at her. Her voice was low and measured but not angry - just done.

“Stop.”

Number 9 blinked. “What?”

Sevika’s eyes were sharp, flat steel. “You keep asking like the answer’s gonna change. It’s not. I’m not interested. I never was.”

That hit.

The smirk dropped. Her whole expression flickered, wounded pride surfacing before she could catch it.

Sevika didn’t flinch. Didn’t offer a soft follow-up. Because she had nothing else to say. She already had everything she wanted. And it wasn’t her.

Number 9 stood up, grabbed her water bottle a little too hard, and stormed off to the other side of the locker room. Her face was stiff, eyes flashing.

Another player, standing close enough to hear, gave a low whistle. “Damn. What was that?”

“Nothing,” Sevika muttered.

“Girl’s been sniffing around you for weeks, Sev. She probably thought she had a shot.”

“She didn’t.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she knew that.”

Sevika didn’t respond. She’d already made herself clear. Quietly. Repeatedly. She hadn’t flirted back. Hadn’t encouraged it. But she’d also never called it out loud. Never said “I’m taken.”

Because she didn’t want to put more attention on you. Because you’d asked for privacy.

But maybe that wasn’t fair. Not to you. And not to Number 9, either.

Now, on the other side of the room, the teasing picked up again.

“Come on, just admit it,” Vi grinned. “You’ve been domesticated.”

“Pie every Friday, turning down drinks? That’s not training dedication, babe. That’s a relationship.”

Ran grinned. “So when’s the wedding?”

“She’ll never admit it,” someone muttered. “She’s too cold for that. Probably doesn’t even like the manager that much.”

That earned an awkward chuckle from a few players.

And then -

Number 9 snapped. “Yeah. Maybe the manager’s just slumming it.”

Silence. Every head turned.

Ran froze, halfway through pulling off their cleats. “Excuse me?”

Number 9 shrugged like she hadn’t just lit a match. “I mean, let’s be real. Sevika’s hot. Sure. But she’s not exactly warm and fuzzy. You think that kind of person sticks around? She probably treats the manager like a bench press - gets what she wants and drops it when it gets too heavy.”

No one laughed. Not even Vi.

Sevika stood slowly. Eyes flat. Shoulders tight. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to.

Because that was the moment the door opened -

And you walked in.

Planner held tightly in hand. Calm. Composed. Professional as ever despite hearing every word form outside the door. You planned on handling it like an adult and not making a scene. That was until you saw the look on Sevika’s face.

The room had gone still. Every eye snapped to you, including Number 9’s, caught like a deer in headlights.

You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t need to. You turned to Number 9.

And smiled - tight, sharp, lethal. “Didn’t realize you had amateur psychoanalysis listed under your skillset,” you said coolly. “Want me to make that official in the next team evaluation?”

No one moved.

Number 9’s jaw clenched. “It was a joke.”

“Mm. Explain it to me then… I like to laugh. Where was the punchline?” You stepped closer - slow, precise, dangerous in a way no one had ever seen from you before.

Number 9 went quiet, glancing at her feet before meeting your eyes again like it was a staredown.

“Let me be very clear - Sevika shows up early, works harder than half this room combined - you included. She keeps her head down, and doesn’t complain even when she should.”

You let your voice drop. “If that intimidates you, that’s your problem. Not hers.”

Number 9 looked like she wanted to melt into the floor by now. But you weren’t done.

“I’ve seen more loyalty and strength in her in the past month than most people manage in a year. And if any of you think she’s not a ‘great catch,’ then you clearly haven’t been paying attention.”

Silence. Every player frozen.

“You don’t have to like her, but you will respect her. And if I hear anything like that again, I will be taking it up with coaching. Do I make myself clear?” You turned to the rest of the room, gaze sweeping like a stormfront.

Ran looked like she wanted to applaud but one dared breathe.

Then you turned. Walked across the room to Sevika. She was staring at you like you’d just split the sky in two.

You reached up - calmly, gently - and pressed a soft but sure kiss to her cheek. Yours.

“Don’t forget your protein shake,” you said. And then you left.

The room stayed frozen long after the door clicked shut behind you. Even Sevika didn’t move.

But her whole face was burning and her ears were red. The corner of her mouth was starting to curve into a smug little smile.

Ran, finally recovering, let out a low whistle. “Okay. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Sevika’s never gonna recover,” Vi added, grinning.

But Number 9 didn’t say a word. Not for the rest of practice. Not the rest of the week.

Because there were lines - and you made it very clear Sevika wasn’t just your girlfriend. She was someone you stood for.

And Sevika? She was head-over-fucking-heels.

---

You hadn’t even made it ten feet past the locker room before the door behind you slammed open again.

Heavy, fast but familiar footsteps.

You smirked before you turned.

Sevika caught up to you in three strides, grabbed your wrist. “You kissed me.” Her voice was rough. Her pupils blown wide. Her breath hitched as she said it, like even she didn’t believe the words.

You just nod, biting back a grin. “Yeah. I was there.”

“In front of everyone.”

You hum. “Mhm. It was just an innocent one, I figured it was time.”

She scoffs softly, dragging a hand through her hair, rubbing her neck shyly, looking at her shoes to suppress a smile. After a beat of silence, she said, more quietly: “You didn’t have to do that… defending me and shit”

Your eyes find hers - those stormy gray ones that never know how to hide anything from you. “No,” you say. “I didn’t.”

Sevika stares at you. Her expression caught somewhere between awe and disbelief. Like she can’t quite believe you chose her like that. Publicly, casually and without shame.

“I just thought she needed a reminder.”

Sevika’s jaw twitches. “I told her to back off.”

“I know,” you say, softer now. “I know you did.”

She hesitates. Like she’s searching for the right words. Then, after a second: “You really didn’t have to do that for me.” she repeats like she still doesn’t quite believe what just happened and can’t find the right words.

You tilt your head. “I didn’t do it for you.”

She blinks. You step closer.

“I did it for me,” you say. “Because I’m not in the mood to watch someone throw themselves at my girlfriend anymore. You’re mine. Let them know.”

Sevika’s breath catches - my girlfriend.

Her ears go pink.

You reach up, brushing your fingers over her shoulder, slow and grounding, reaching up to cup her cheek.

“I’ve kept this quiet because I wanted to protect it,” you murmur. “But that doesn’t mean I’m scared of being seen with you.”

Her voice is almost a whisper. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” You laugh under your breath. “Sevika. You should’ve seen her face. I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.”

She huffs, finally letting herself smile - really smile. That low, soft-lipped, crooked one she only gives to you. Then, a little gruff: “Next time give a girl some warning.”

“If there’s a next time, I’m putting her through the wall.”

Sevika snorts.

Then she leans forward, closing the last sliver of space between you and crowding you gently against the wall of the hallway, hands braced on either side of you.

“You like claiming me, huh?”

You look up at her, smug. “I like what’s mine staying mine.”

Her lips twitch. “Is that so.”

You grin. “You gonna do something about it, hot shot?”

She leans in, nose brushing yours. “Oh, I’ll prove it.”

And then she kisses you - rough, needy. One hand sliding to your waist, the other cupping the back of your neck, nails leaving crescent shapes there. She needs to feel you under her palms again and you melt into her, letting her crowd you against the wall, heat blooming through your chest. When she finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard.

“Damn,” you murmur, dazed. “Should’ve kissed you in front of the team sooner.”

She laughs under her breath, brushing her knuckles against your cheek. “You’re a brat you know that?.”

You grin. “Don’t pretend you don’t live for it.”

She doesn’t say anything to that.

Just kisses you again - softer this time.

And it’s better than any answer.

Dividers by: @ nonbinaryavrage

#arcane sevika #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #sevika arcane

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boyfriendtodeathconfessional · 2 months ago

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💀🎤 Welcome to the Boyfriend to Death Confessional Booth™ 🎤💀 Where you can scream into the void about your cursed BTD / TPOF / YKMET opinions 😈💘—without showing your shame-stricken face 😳🫣

🖤 Got a weird take? 🧠 A brainworm you can’t shake?? 🫀 A horny thought that lives rent-free in your psyche??? SEND. IT. IN. Nobody knows who you are. Nobody needs to. 🕳️👀

We’re here for ✨spicy discourse✨, trash opinions, and ✨chaotic mutual obsession✨ with murder boyfriends. We are NOT your politics homework 📉📚, your therapy couch 🛋️💬, or your morality debate team 🧑‍⚖️🚫

🚨 NO MINORS ALLOWED. This booth is for the depraved, the delulu, and the deeply unwell ONLY. 🚨 👉 You must be 18+ or we will send Strade after you with a power tool and no supervision. 🔪🔞🧼

🌚 “Why hasn’t my ask shown up??” Well, babe… maybe it sucked. OR maybe it just didn’t offer anything the fandom can scream about together.

Acceptable ask example: 💬 “I think it’s dumb to hate Strade but simp for Ren/Fox.” 🌈 Why? Because people can fight in the replies like rabid raccoons and the fandom lives another day.

❌ Unacceptable ask: “I had a dream where Mason was my dad and he made me cereal.” 🤨 What are we supposed to do with that.

So if you’re ready to yeet your darkest thoughts into the fandom abyss… 😈💌 The box is open. 📯 Make it messy. Make it interesting. Make it very hard to explain to your therapist. 💅🩸

❌🗑️UNACCEPTABLE SUBMISSION:

“I think MrBlorbo86 is stupid and annoying.”

🛑 WHY THIS GETS YEETED: Babes… what are you doing. This isn’t “Confess Your Parasocial Crimes.” Dragging a real-ass person into your mess? 👁️👄👁️ Nah. We’re not doing that. That’s real life, and we don’t ruin that here.

🔥 This kind of thing fuels dogpile behavior, makes fandom spaces hostile, and frankly? It’s giving Mean Girls but without the camp. 🧼 Keep it about fictional horrors and freaky game boys. Leave your personal vendettas at the door or go scream into a pillow like the rest of us.

✅💬ACCEPTABLE SUBMISSION:

“I don’t like XYZ, I think it’s dumb/wrong/bad.”

👏 WHY THIS SLAPS: A simple ✨vibe check✨. You're just launching your little opinion into the ether like a paper airplane and seeing where it lands. 🎈 No name-calling, no blood feuds—just vibes. Maybe someone agrees, maybe someone shrieks in all caps, maybe you start a dialogue. That’s what we want. Controlled chaos. 🧪

❌🔥UNACCEPTABLE SUBMISSION:

“I don’t like XYZ and anyone who does is an idiot.”

🚨 WHY THIS GOES STRAIGHT TO THE VOID: This ain’t a gladiator pit. It’s a fandom confessional, not a fight club for egos. When you jump from “I have a take” to “anyone who disagrees is a dumb bitch,” you’re not sparking conversation—you’re just throwing rocks at people’s brains. 🪨🧠💥

💡 Passion ≠ aggression. You can scream, cry, throw up over Ren’s eyebrows without punching a stranger in the jaw over it. Be spicy, not spiteful. 🌶️💋

✅🔍ACCEPTABLE SUBMISSION:

“Did Gatobob, Darqx, or EP design Ren?”

🧠 WHY THIS IS TOTALLY CHILL: This is just a clean lil’ lore query. No shade, no accusations, just a neutral, fandom-focused question about who drew which red flag. 🚩🎨 Zero drama, zero blood spilled. A perfectly valid question for anyone deep in the BTD rabbit hole. Ask away, detective. 🕵️‍♀️🔪

❌⚠️UNACCEPTABLE SUBMISSION:

“Didn’t Gatobob/Darqx/EP do XYZ???”

🚫 WHY THIS GOES STRAIGHT TO THE TRASH FIRE: Okay. Let’s not play coy. This is less of a question and more of a Molotov cocktail tossed at the fandom group chat. 🧨 Unless XYZ is “coded a sprite” or “drew a hot murderer,” it’s irrelevant. You’re not here to learn. You’re here to stir the pot. And we’re unplugging the stove. 🍲🙅‍♀️

💡 Let’s keep it real: This is the BTD fandom. Morally grey is the default setting. Charcoal is our neutral tone. We do not need to re-litigate anyone’s Tumblr sins from 2009. If it’s not about the game, the characters, or your deeply cursed OC ship, it’s not welcome here.

🧼 Friendly Reminder: Your internet experience? Yours to manage. Don’t like someone’s art, takes, or entire existence? That’s cool. Hit that block button and cleanse your feed like a digital exorcism. Need help purging a tag or nuking your dash? We’ve got you. Just say the word. 💅💻🔥

💥 EXTRAS 💥

🏷️ Tags:

Personal Posts: Mod-Demon

Self-Harm Mentions: S-H

Proship Discourse / Takes: PRO-SHIP

Fictives / System Talk: FICT-IVES

Electricpuke Mentions: E-P

Darqx Mentions: DAR-QX

Sexual Content: NSFW (🔞 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞)

❤️‍🔥 Ship Tags:

Strade x Ren: 🦊🍺

Ren x Lawrence: 🦊🥀

Strade x Lawrence: 🍺🥀

😈 Claimed Emojis:

(Don’t steal them unless you wanna fight in the confession box 💅)

🦊 · 🥃 · 🔨 · 🤖 · 🦝 🐹 · 🌀 · 🐞 · 🫀 · 🦨 🌕🐺 · 💀 · ☀️ · 🫀🦊 · 🐗 🪼 · 🐰 · 🍯🐝 · 🦂🧨 · ☢️ 🖤 · V 🫀 · 🦌 · 🐾🦊 · 🌼 😺🍯 · 🫀fvcker

🏆 Confessional MVPs:

🏅Award for Best April Headcanon: Anon–☢️ Gaze upon their radioactive bragging rights. They earned it. 💚💀💫

this took me three weeks. i shed feathers. i forgot how to sleep. i blacked out halfway through and woke up with bark in my teeth. i don’t even know what this is anymore, but it’s yours now. take it. With all the love of a thing that lives in your rafters and watches you type, birdie🐦

#Feels like a fem queen 🎤#boyfriend to death #boyfriendtodeath #btd #tpof #the price of flesh

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oxiegoeimi · 3 days ago

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Art| #Blue

Artist| #keerou

Clipped wings and dampened spirits, we aimed to find out how and why we were jaded. Was it shattered spirits or expectations? Did walking past stages prove to be empty? Were roads less traveled disappointing? Did giants turn out to be human only? Whatever the lesson; pain and numbness froze us. Prescriptions and self-help worked, while leaving us thirsting for balance. Devotion gave us purpose. Drowning anxiety through distraction and productivity, time caught up with us. Breathing became more labored, and the stars went from inspiring to keeping us in orbit. What we strove, sacrificed, and fought for became routine. All know what it feels like to walk around living, while feeling dead. It’s easy to sell enlightenment and breakthrough because such are more comfortable than struggling. Truth is hidden behind confession booths, counseling sessions, prayers, and journals to keep from burdening loved ones. Alienated, while being like everyone else, we turn to lyrics and fiction to grant us moments of being “normal.” Life is the mess that happens when our plans and controls don’t determine value. When we don’t need to experience a breakdown or sleep things off, there’s a heartbeat that extends beyond its physical implications. Souls exist on levels that remain naked eternally. In the river of change, redemption manifests when realizing that we aren’t circumstantial. Acceptance won’t come through study or measurement. All of us have the evidence necessary to experience wholeness. How far we go with healing is tied to the willingness to listen. Recovery comes through being open to the reality that our internal and external states flow in accordance with writing determining DNA, time, and space. Is truth a thing? Yes. Getting there isn’t complicated. It is made plain through humility.

- oxiegoeimi

rest 11.1 🦁🏳🔐💙 remember to always #trust #nature 🌲 #Healer 🔥 #Spirit 🕊 #hope ⚜️ #grace ☔️ #love 🌸 #life 🌊 #unity 🌈 #believe 💝 #weareone ✂️🕚🎶 #energy #PinkySwear #prayer #meditation #freelove #hereandhereafter #dream #vision #Eternity #paradise #infinity #light #origin #writing #source journey create #coexist #together 💜🌠🌅🌟

#Instagram

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xomoosexo · 1 year ago

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Confession booth I also had a threesome dream with dnf, I pegged George it was awesome

😨 I'm 😧 happy 😳 for you 😶‍🌫️👍 follow your dreams 🤠🌈🌈🌈

#askies

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theartofimagining13 · 4 years ago

Photo

SYNOPSIS: Loki takes a walk down memory lane to the exact, vulnerable moment that changed him and made him realize he’d always choose power over love.

WRITTEN BY: A.Wölf.

NOTES/WARNINGS: 🌈 This doesn’t really have Loki spoilers in it but it’ll make more sense if you’ve seen the 3rd episode. What this story does have is bisexual Loki 🌈 . It’s just something I wish had been truly represented and not just mentioned in the series. Of course, this would’ve only happened if Loki had been produced by HBO and not Disney lol. Also, you guys know that I prefer a darker Loki, a true villain, so... this is kinda dark.

A big shout-out to the LGBTQIA+ community. We love you.

Enjoy!

“A little bit of both.” Loki confessed proudly with a champagne flute in one hand and his eyes fixed on Sylvie, who was sitting across from him in the booth of that train bar. “But nothing ever…”

“Real.” She finished his sentence.

Loki broke eye contact and hummed before taking a sip of champagne, clearly avoiding the answer. Sylvie smiled.

“Love is mischief then?” She asked.

Loki hesitated.

“Love is…”

He stared at the bubbles in his golden drink as an old memory seemingly began to rise to the surface. Loki allowed himself to plunge into it.

He was suddenly back in Asgard and many years younger. A prince playing king at one of the many parties he hosted back in the day; the type that would make Dionysus and Aristippus proud; surrounded by gold, wine, food, and prospects. And a canopy bed in the far end of the room, like a throne from where to watch the guests and have a little privacy.

The young God in a black and green robe exchanged glances with another man standing by the door; He was one of Asgard’s soldiers and had a very close relationship with the trickster. Without breaking eye contact, Loki walked towards the bed. He opened the curtains and saw his best friend on it, kissing a stranger. She was his confidante and sporadic lover, and the only one with an identical soul who’d understand his needs and share the bed with each of his conquests apart from her own.

Loki showed a mischievous smile and sipped on his wine while staring at them. She returned it as soon as she pulled away and saw Loki sitting on the opposite side. She greeted him with a kiss on the lips as well.

Loki tasted of sweet and strong wine.

The two pulled away when the young soldier finally joined them. He knelt on the bed and slowly crawled on top of Loki whose eyes darkened with desire. The soldier crashed his lips against the god.

Every time they kissed felt like the first time.

The next morning, the young man would be standing in his armor, with the rest of the Asgardian soldiers, taking orders from Odin. And if Loki happened to be in the same room, they would only share a look of complicity. To all of Asgard, they were just friends, but behind closed doors, they had kept the secret of being lovers for a very long time.

Loki looked away from his father and fixed his eyes on the floor instead to try and hide the sadness tainting them.

“A traitor?” He echoed Odin’s words.

“Heimdall would never lie, my son.” Odin sat at the throne looking worried. “I know there’s friendship between you and the young soldier… but I fear his intentions may have been treacherous from the beginning.”

Loki was confused and mad at himself for not realizing it on his own. He blinked several times, still looking away from his father.

“He used me.” Loki murmured. “He pretended to be my friend but why?”

Odin could hear the annoyance in his son’s tone.

“To start a war. He’s been sharing information with other realms. Loki…” He paused. “He’s to be apprehended and executed at the break of dawn.”

Loki’s eyes went wide and his lips parted as he finally looked up at Odin. He remained silent for a minute while the feelings of betrayal and misery blended into anger within him.

“Let me do it.” He pleaded. “I believe I’m owed that much.”

Loki called his lover into his bedroom that night like he often did, but this time, he offered him no smile.

“Remove your clothes.” He simply ordered.

Loki watched as the young soldier did as he was told but this time, instead of enticement, he had a bitter taste in his mouth. His eyes traveled down his body and he stood behind him to get close to his ear.

“Did you really think I would never find out?” He inquired in a whisper.

Loki noticed how every muscle in his lover’s naked back tensed up. He was frozen for a complete minute.

“I must admit I’m quite impressed.” He carried on while walking in a circle around him. “You did fool me for a while.”

The man jerked his chin up to finally look Loki in the eye, he stopped in front of him.

“You must be proud.” Loki said. “You tricked the trickster.”

“I am not proud, Loki. Not proud at all.” He admitted. “I was sent on a mission and that’s all it was in the beginning but I never fathomed I w-”

“Oh, for God’s sake, don’t.” Loki warned.

But the soldier ignored him and inched closer to cup his lover’s face in his hands and felt how Loki stiffened at his touch.

“You couldn’t see my true intentions and you know why.” He said. “I may not have been truthful in the beginning but things changed along the way and the more I got to know you…” He trailed off. “I’m sure you can feel that.”

Loki glared at him. He wanted to believe him but it was too late and he was too proud to give second chances and risk being fooled ever again in his life. His ego had been hurt like never before, and a god who had been mislead so easily wasn’t worthy of the throne. Loki wanted to rule Asgard, even the nine realms. He could not be thought of as weak or naive.

The soldier brought Loki’s face closer to his and kissed him with passion and hints of sadness. He only pulled away to stare into his soul.

“It was real.” He whispered.

Loki clenched his jaw and stared at his lips. He wondered if it was true but realized that opening his heart for the first time only led him to this and the many doubts forming in his mind. He could not allow himself to be vulnerable if he was going to be king. Loki abruptly and brusquely pulled the soldier back in, and conjured up a dagger in his right hand. He immediately stabbed his lover in the stomach.

The soldier pulled away with widened eyes as he gasped in pain.

“Then you’re even more foolish than I thought.” Loki murmured. There was no room for love and power. He had made up his mind. “Rule number one…” He added. “Never fall in love.”

He felt how his lover got weaker and weaker in his arms but he held onto him. Loki followed, kneeling without letting go of him as he started to slide down to the floor.

“It was real… it w-was r-real.” He kept promising in faint whispers as he bled out but made sure to look Loki in the eye.

When life finally left the soldier, a big sob escaped from Loki’s lips as he finally let his walls come down in solitude, and continued to cradle his dead body on the floor.

Loki entered the throne room, got down on one knee before Odin with his eyes on the floor, and lifted his dead lover’s severed head like an offering.

There was a knock on her bedroom door in the middle of the night, and she opened it to find Loki covered in tears and blood.

She had never seen his friend in such deep pain. She held him tight and Loki cried like he hadn’t since he was a child. She knew that he wouldn’t be able to talk for a while, so she just drew him a bath to wash the blood off him. After several minutes, and with his legs pressed to his chest, and his chin resting on top of his knees, Loki began to recount the events. By the time he was done, she could see him already starting to change.

This, she confirmed the next morning when she woke up and her friend was gone. Vulnerable Loki had spent the night next to her to not be alone, but she knew she’d never see this side of him again. She finally saw him wandering around the palace with his chin up higher than usual and pretending like nothing had happened.

After that, Loki started hosting twice as many parties, slept with twice as many men and women, and gave himself into the pleasures of life completely. Perhaps looking for the soldier in everybody else.

“How long are you going to keep on pretending like you’re not in pain?” She asked him one evening and watched how his smile faded for a split second but he tried to hide it by eating more grapes out of the bowl in his hands. “If you don’t let it out, it’s going to eat you up inside.”

Loki glanced at the floor still without uttering a single word. She sighed.

“I know you loved him, Loki.” His friend pushed.

Loki glared at her.

“I’m not a child.” He complained. “Love is for the weak.”

“Why didn’t you let Odin execute him then?” She challenged. “If you truly didn’t care, you would’ve let him. But you knew it would’ve been a much more horrible and merciless death than you and your dagger.”

Loki blinked several times, still staring at his champagne as he returned to the present in that train bar.

He smiled at the memory of his one true friend and her ability to see through him and read him like an open book.

Loki finally looked Sylvie in the eye ready to give her a truthful yet confusing answer; one only he could understand.

“Love is a dagger.”

#Loki #Loki Laufeyson #Bisexual Loki #LOVE IS A DAGGER #Tom Hiddleston #loki x original male character #loki x original female character #Fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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