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rosaren2498 · 2 years ago

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Forgotten and Discarded

WARNINGS: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+ Somnophilia, Self-cest (Sort of), Dub-Con, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Multiple Orgasms

I'd apologize for this, but I'm not sorry. This is the fic I mentioned in that post sometime last week. Had some minor editing left to do and now it's done. Hope you enjoy this weirdness. Morpheus deserves to be taken care of, even if it's in this way.

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Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, does not sleep. He is the Ruler of the Dreaming, the King of Dreams and Nightmares, he holds the entire collective unconscious within him. He has no need for sleep, let alone the time to do it. This is what he tells everyone.

However, when there is nothing particularly pressing to do in his realm, and when he is exhausted beyond the capability of thought, Morpheus retreats to a specific place within the Dreaming that he created eons ago. Somewhere so secret that no one else has access to - or even knows about - it, so that he may finally sleep.

He has not done so since long before his capture. Since his escape, he has been too busy with gathering his tools, fixing his realm, dealing with his unruly creations, the Vortex, and the betrayal of his own siblings.

Until now. He is exhausted in a way he has not been since Orpheus' death and everything is simply too much. After a century of silence, even the Dreaming is too loud. With his realm thriving, no particular threats to deal with, Matthew on an errand that will keep him busy, and Lucienne agreeing to deal with things for however long he needs, Morpheus is finally free. He makes his way to the edge of his realm, furthest from his palace

The pocket area has always been more closed off than any other place within the Dreaming. He will not be disturbed, nor will he be found.

It is with great relief that he enters a clearing with what looks like a simple cottage in the center. The sun never shines here, but the moon and stars in the night sky glow bright enough to make up for it. He has always preferred the night to the day; it is, after all, usually when people sleep.

His shoulders relax the moment he steps through the door, almost sagging with the way the exhaustion pulls at him; were he anywhere else, he'd never let it show, but here he is blessedly alone. As he makes his way to the bedroom in the back of the cottage, the fireplace automatically lights, gentle blue and purple flames dancing within. The ceiling is embedded with entire galaxies, just like his throne room, and the sight makes the corner of his mouth twitch.

His clothes shift until he is only wearing his silk robe, which is held shut with a single strap tied at his waist. He crawls to the center of the nearly obscenely-sized bed, collapsing with a relieved sigh.

Here, the noise of the collective unconscious and of the Dreaming is muffled. Not gone, but quiet enough for his form to sink into the black satin sheets and relax. He doesn't resist the way his eyelids quickly grow heavy, falling into the waiting darkness with ease.

---

Morpheus swims back to consciousness slowly, not entirely sure what has woken him when nothing and no one should be able to reach him here, in this part of the Dreaming. A slow drag of something soft and wet up his exposed shaft has his back arching and his head tilting back into the mess of pillows with a breathy gasp.

"Ah."

A low chuckle sounds, seeming to echo around him, before wet heat engulfs his hard cock; a cry forces itself from his mouth at the sudden pleasure that burns through him. Hands press into his body, one on his hip and the other splayed possessively over his abdomen, keeping him pinned to the satin sheets. As a tongue swirls around his cock, another rather embarrassing noise slips from his mouth, his hands automatically threading through silk-soft hair.

Morpheus manages to raise his head from the pillows and force his eyes open to see who, or what, has his cock buried in their mouth. He sees hair as dark as his own, but the face is hidden by it.

"Who-"

He cuts off with a strangled noise as his cock is abruptly taken to the root. A searing hot, wet throat swallows around his aching shaft and he has to bite back the whimper that wants to force its way up his throat. His breathing, breathing he doesn't need, is quickly becoming ragged; it has been a long time since he's had a lover and he is quickly unraveling under the insistent attention.

His hands tighten in the silky hair, unintentionally pulling. A groan rumbles around his cock and he can't hold back the whine that slips out of him, nor can he help the way his hips have begun straining against the hands keeping him pinned. He is embarrassingly close to spilling into the all-to-willing throat of this mysterious person.

A voice rumbles through the room, much like the chuckle had. It is low, deep, more a purr than an actual voice. "Let go, my sweet King. Let me taste you."

Morpheus can't hold back his answering cry if he tried, his cock throbbing and spilling down the eager throat of the creature seemingly determined to drink his seed. His back arches off the sheets and his eyes clench shut as shudders wrack his form, pleasure swallowing his awareness.

When he finally comes back to himself, the hands that had pinned him are now gently caressing every inch of his body. He shudders when he registers that he is completely nude and has to bite back an insistent moan when he realizes there is an equally nude body pressing into his.

He opens his eyes, immediately meeting a gaze shining with amusement. Morpheus is startled to find that the irises he's looking into are the same shade of blue as his own in the Waking World, but instead of a white sclera, the sclera is black and shining with stars. He blinks and then registers his own face gazing at him with a hunger he hasn't felt in eons and has never seen directed at himself.

"Welcome back, my sweet King."

There is something distinctly off about this strange copy of him, other than the slightly different eyes. Yet, at the same time, there is something so familiar that it's almost like he's looking at some facet of himself.

"What are you?"

The copy grins, revealing teeth sharp enough to belong to Nightmare. Instead of answering, he rolls his hips against Morpheus, swallowing the noise that escapes by devouring his mouth.

Heat and pleasure lick up his spine. A part of his mind screams to shove this replica away, but most of his mind is focused on the kiss slowly melting his brain, the tongue rubbing against his, and the hard cock grinding against his own, practically dripping with precum already.

"I don't-" he cuts himself off briefly with a choked moan, then continues, "understand."

The dark copy nips at his bottom lip and soothes the sting with his tongue, which is longer than it should be.

"Hush. Do not fight me, my beautiful King. Do not fight what you so desperately want." He gives a rumbling groan with another roll of his hips. "I can show you pleasure beyond anything you've ever experienced, if you would only allow me."

Morpheus is beginning to feel dizzy, almost lightheaded, with how much he wants. He can't stop the way his hips rock against the dark figure pressed against him no more than he can fight the wanton moan that falls from his lips. His head falls back against the pillows once more, face tilting up to the galaxies writhing on the ceiling, responding to his pleasure here the way the rest of the Dreaming would, were he anywhere else; the action bares his throat to this strange replica as he pants for breath, for more. Hot lips and a wet tongue take advantage of the position, tracing along his throat, forcing more needy noises from his mouth. Fingers brush his nipples and he gasps hotly.

"My sweet Prince... let me serve you."

The words are whispered into his ear with a reverence he's never heard directed at himself before. A shudder rushes down his spine and he whines, his hands gripping at the waist of the dark figure. For a second, he thinks he might shove him off, but he finds himself dragging the hips closer at the same time that he rolls his own; a desperate noise falls from his lips at the exquisite pressure on his cock and the pleasure that coils in his gut.

"Please."

A shiver wracks the frame of the body on top of him, and a quiet growl slips between too-sharp teeth; it only excites Morpheus further.

"You need never beg me for anything. You need only let me take care of you. I only seek to give you that which you desire, but have long denied yourself."

Before Morpheus can properly make sense of the words, a mouth is sucking and biting at his throat while a finger probes at his hole. His stomach twists with an equal amount of fear and need. He must make a distressed noise because the copy is quick to shush him with gentle kisses.

"I will never hurt you; I swear on all that I am. Let me serve you, my beloved King. Let me pleasure you until the only thing you can remember is how good I can be for you... how good you are for me."

Morpheus' breath hitches and he whines again, spreading his thighs without a thought beyond 'yes'. The figure settles easily between his thighs with a pleased purr, finger rubbing against his hole once more; it is slick now. Morpheus gasps as the finger pushes, slipping inside all the way to the knuckle just as a tongue is shoved into his mouth. He moans into the filthy kiss, hips rocking of their own accord, trying to get the finger deeper. He swallows the chuckle that is breathed into his mouth, sucking on the tongue as the finger begins moving. Slow thrusts and little twists cause him to make various noises that the dark replica swallows eagerly. He plunders Morpheus' mouth like he's starving for his taste until Morpheus is writhing with a need for more.

Morpheus jerks his mouth away when the finger pulls out, only for a second finger to slip in alongside the first when it pushes back in. He moans breathlessly, chanting 'yes', 'deeper', and 'more' over and over under his breath. A growl reverberates through him, coming from the creature pressed against him, before a mouth latches onto his throat with renewed need. It is clear his goal is to leave a mess of marks; Morpheus wants to let him, back arching off the sheets and head falling further back when the fingers curl just right. A cry is ripped from him at the pressure against his prostate, cock twitching against his abdomen and leaking steadily. He distantly wonders if he might cum a second time so soon and then a third finger is pushed inside and all he can think of is how good they feel; they stretch him with only the barest twinge of pain, a slight burn that only makes him want more.

"That's it, my love. Just let me take care of you."

The words are breathed against his throat, voice thready with a hunger that makes him clench around the fingers buried in him; a groan follows.

"I will make you feel so good, I swear."

The fingers spread him as wide as they can and then slip out; he can't contain his whimper at the abrupt emptiness.

"Shhh, I have you, my sweet Prince. I will give you what you need."

He feels the blunt head of the replica's cock and instead of fear, or confusion, he only feels a need so strong that he thinks it might burn him from the inside out if he doesn't have it inside him now. He wraps his legs around thin hips and grabs at shoulders so much like his own - if a little broader - trying to pull him closer.

"Yes, yes, yes. Inside, now."

He squirms, begging and pleading for the creature to just fuck him already. He spares a brief thought of how he should be embarrassed about how needy, how desperate, he sounds but then the long, thick cock is pushing into his tight hole and all thoughts leave him as he cries out. He clings to the replica - chest heaving for breath he doesn't need - as he doesn't stop pushing until his cock is buried to the hilt and he releases another rumbling groan.

"Oh, my sweet King. So good for me, taking me so well. You've needed this for millennia, but you always deny yourself what you want. Do not worry, my love; I'll always give you exactly what you need."

Morpheus moans and flushes at the words. His breath hitches as the cock slowly withdrawals from his greedy hole and then throws his head back with a shout as the replica thrusts hard, burying his cock to the hilt again.

"You've needed this for so long. Needed someone to pin your pretty body down and fuck you good. Do not fear, my beloved King, that's what I'm here for; to fuck you like the gorgeous whore you really are."

Morpheus makes a filthy noise as he's fucked slow, but deep and hard. Each thrust brushes along his prostate, makes his toes curl, and his eyes roll back. He's never been fucked like this and it may be the best thing that's ever happened to him; he's already teetering on the edge of an orgasm that promises to wipe his mind clean of anything but the cock inside him; he wants it more than anything.

Breathy groans and filthy growls are tumbling from the throat of the creature that is fucking him into the bed. They shouldn't turn him on so much but they do and before he knows it, he's going rigid beneath the replica, form blurring at the edges with how strong the tide of pleasure that sweeps him away is. His orgasm rocks him to the core, the galaxies above his head brightening with it, as he paints his own stomach in rope after rope of his seed. A long tongue, too long to look human, licks the spend up as hips seem to speed up, fucking him ruthlessly through his orgasm.

"Oh, look at you. So beautiful like this my love."

When he finally begins to come down, he whines sharply as the cock is abruptly pulled out of him. He scrambles to cling to the body that had been pressed against his, mouth opening to speak, to beg the strange creature to not leave him. However, he's flipped onto his stomach before he can say a word. His hips are forcefully raised and then that delicious cock is shoved back into him. He cries out into the pillow his face is now pressed into, mindlessly pushing his hips back in a desperate desire for more, deeper, harder, rougher.

A growl rumbles through his back when his noises are muffled and then there is a hand sliding around his hip, up his stomach, over his chest and pressing into his throat. He's yanked up by the hand now around his throat, forcing his back to arch and changing the angle of the thrusts that are rapidly turning rough just like he wants. A high-pitched whine drags from his throat as his head falls back against the shoulder of the replica; the other hand is once more splayed possessively over his abdomen, so he can feel the slight bulge of his cock fucking deep.

"I can feel the head of my cock pushing at my hand." A sharp nip at his throat and then the hand grabs one of his own, pressing it to his abdomen. "Feel my cock inside you, my love."

Morpheus nearly lets out a sob at the next thrust, easily feeling the cock pressing insistently at his hand through his abdomen. He feels needy and mindless, not even sure what he wants anymore as tears fall from his eyes. He nearly screams when the hand presses harshly against his own, forcing his own hand to press harder against his abdomen on the next thrust; oh he's going to spill again.

He pushes back as best he can with every thrust, begging and pleading, though, at this point, he has no idea what it is he's asking for. Apparently, his dark copy does as he flexes the hand on Morpheus' throat and whispers in his ear.

"You beg so prettily for me. I know, my love. It's okay. You can let go, my sweet Prince. Spill for me and I'll fill you up."

Morpheus sobs through his orgasm, vision going dark with how strong it is. He goes completely limp in his copy's arms, barely aware of the slight pinch of fangs slipping into his throat or the way the cock in him twitches and spends deep inside him.

He's entirely unaware of the way his replica cleans him up with a reverence fit only for true lovers, or the way that he curls around Morpheus afterward. He doesn't notice the words, the promise breathed into his ear, the vow that whenever Morpheus needs him, he will be there. Instead, Morpheus drops back into the darkness of sleep.

#the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #forgotten and discarded

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imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs · 2 years ago

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Sailor Moon Rare Pair Week Day 5: Real/Fake

@sailormoonrarepairweek

“And this will be your room.”

The bedroom wasn’t as big as Ikuko assumed it would be. Just about the size of the main floor of her house. She was expecting it to be more in the range of an airplane hangar.

“Is everything alright?”

Ikuko turned to look at the young lady who had been giving her a tour, dressed in a traditional French maid’s outfit, offset by her bright pink hair.

It was hard to believe that this woman worked for her daughter, who’s work ethic was one of her least exercised qualities.

“Oh, everything’s fine, uh…”

The maid curtsied.

“Stella, your ladyship.”

Ikuko frowned.

“You can just call me Ikuko-san if you like.”

“I see, Ikuko-san your ladyship.”

“Just Ikuko-san. Please.”

Stella frowned at her, clearly confused by what Ikuko had thought was a clear and innocuous request.

“But, aren’t you her majesty’s mother?” she asked.

“Yes,” Ikuko said, I” am her mother. But… I’d rather not have people stand on ceremony for me.”

Before Stella could respond, Ikuko’s fist hit her palm as she remembered something that she had been meaning to ask since she’d first met Stella to be taken on a tour of the palace (and her now royal daughter had left groaning about paperwork in a very familiar fashion).

“Would you mind checking on my husband? I thought he’d be here by now.”

Stella nodded.

“Of course, your l—Ikuko-san.”

Stella left the room, and as soon as the ornate doors had closed, Ikuko collapsed onto the bed.

Her daughter had a maid. Scratch that, she had enough maids to assign one to give Ikuko a tour. It was like falling into an alternate reality! Like that one movie…

A knock on her door stirred her from her thoughts. Ikuko sat up as one of her bedroom doors (it still felt odd calling it that) opened demurely and a familiar head poked inside, as if suspicious of what could lay within.

“Dear?”

“Thank God!”

Kenji staggered into and across the room, collapsing onto the bed beside his wife.

“I’ve been looking for you for hours!” he said, “this place is massive!”

“I know,” Ikuko said, laying down so her gaze met his, “what happened to your guide?”

“I think I lost him somewhere around the kitchen,” Kenji replied.

Ikuko had to chuckle at that.

“I just sent mine to go check up on you,” she said.

Kenji smiled at her words and his hand found hers to clasp.

“It’s all so strange.”

“I know,” Ikuko said, “It doesn’t feel real, does it?”

“One minute, we’re just like everyone else. And the next…”

“Our daughter is a queen,”

“Just yesterday, it seems like she was struggling to get her homework done.”

Ikuko leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“She’s still our little girl,” she said.

Kenji smiled, something warm and sweet that Ikuko recognized as something their daughter inherited and that she loved so much before he looked up at the ceiling.

“Think we’ll ever get used to living here?”

“Well,” Ikuko said, “you once asked me ‘think we’ll ever get used to being parents’ after Usagi turned one. And I think we did pretty well.”

Her husband shuffled to embrace her and the two of them lay on the enormous bed, just enjoying being an island together on its sheets.

“Stella must be worried that she can’t find you by now,” Ikuko said.

“Who’s Stella?”

“My… lady’s maid.”

“Well, if she needs me she can find me right here.”

“You’re such a sweet talker.”

“Actually, I don’t think I could find my way back to my room.”

Ikuko leaned up and kissed her husband’s cheek.

“Well, maybe Usagi will let us make this our room?”

#my writing #smrarepairweek2023 #ikuko tsukino #kenji tsukino #ikuko x Kenji #sailor moon #fanfic #fanfiction

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pynkhues · 1 year ago

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omg i just read you arranged marriage kenstewy au fic in. i hope you are you still working on it!

(x)

Hi! I am, anon! Slowly but surely, as I seem to do with most things these days, haha. You can have another little snippet if you fancy ;-)

“Enjoying our gardens?”

It’s more an announcement of his presence than a question, after all, the gardens are the Queen’s domain, not his, and he doesn’t find himself out here as often as he knows Connor and Roman do. Both seem to like to revel in their offense at Marcia’s new direction of the gardens – apparently having dug up some of Connor’s mother’s dahlia’s and pruned their own mother’s Tudor Roses’ back to the hilt – conversations that tend to have both Kendall and Shiv looking to change the subject. He’s not even sure what Marcia’s ordered the gardeners to do since she wed their father, and he finds it hard to care when there are greater insults to bear – like the fact that their father allows her son, Amir, a place in court.

Not that that’s the point right now. The point is the man from the Hosseini party doesn’t so much as flinch at his presence, no, he merely casts him an offhand glance, fingers busy with the hashish he’s laid out in silk against one of the lower stone walls.

“You can see the new Queen’s influence,” he says. “Or is this your father’s pride?”

Kendall blinks, and at the look, the man gestures out to a bed of delicate purple flowers with long orange tongues.

“All these spoils of war. You think saffron grows here on its own?”

With a shrug, Kendall sidles a little closer, gaze focused first on the way the man slowly and methodically sifts the hashish, before he feels himself fixing more on the guy’s hands. Long, broad fingers, neatly manicured nails. This close, he can smell the small mound of toasted sesame seeds and brown sugar waiting to be mixed with the herb, can smell something floral on the man beside him too, like he’d stepped fully formed from these foreign flowers in their palace gardens and not ridden days on horseback behind another nation’s prince.

“What, you some sort of horticulture fuck? The Hosseini’s trying to play big court by having a gardener play prince guard?”

The guy just looks amused at that, big brown eyes bright underneath the evening sky. Behind them somewhere, Kendall can hear the music starting from the Great Hall, a dancer’s waltz for Shiv and Sadegh, knows their father will make a show of watching them while Marcia, hawkish and shrewd, watches the other king watch him. A dance in a dance, while Connor, heir that he’s supposed to be, makes moon eyes at the courtesan across the floor. The thought chafes: dipshit. Still, Connor might not know how to make moves, but, Kendall thinks, he does.

“Seriously though. Cousin, political counsel, knight…” Kendall trails off, fishing for anything of value for their father, and the other guy just laughs, pinching at a bit of the hashish, dipping it in the sesame seeds and brown sugar, and popping it gracefully into his mouth

“Well, that depends on who’s asking,” the guy says, then, after a beat, he offers the silk set up to Kendall: “Snooping little princes can just call me Stewy.”

#this is like #my fun dumb fic rn haha #i'm gonna try and finish it in the next week or so though #kendall x stewy #succession fic #welcome to my ama #wip wednesday

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anyavaramyr · 2 years ago

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Love is blind

Antonio x Bassanio oneshot(by a very frustrated literature student who is v v tired)

A/n:- I don't know if you've noticed but I have no idea how to actually post a fic on tumblr, but I tried.@vaguely-tricksy here you go!

Antonio did not know why he was sad

That ache he felt in his chest sometimes was now a feeling that he had grown accustomed to, that deep longing for something he couldn't name but desperately longed for. But it was never physical this pain, it emanated from somewhere deep inside of him, a part of his heart telling him something in a language he did not understand.

When Salanio first implied that he might be in love, Antonio had scoffed. Love, he'd thought assuredly, was not something that was not meant for him. As a young child Antonio had dreamed of it of course, as any child does. Finding a beautiful wife that he loved and settling down in a quaint little house near the Grand Canal, just him, her and a little mini them that he would love with all his heart. But then his father died and the responsibility of looking after the family fell to him. He'd toiled and struggled to provide stability for his family, worked hard to get to the place he is now. But even after he had become one of the most esteemed merchants of Venice, Antonio did not contemplate love. He had his trading business to look after, a family would be too much affort at this age. Besides who even needed love when he had money and friendships that he would sacrifice anything for.

Now, standing in Belmont in Portia's majestic palace, Antonio looks around at his lovelorn friends and their lovely spouses and smiles warmly. Just because he didn't believe in love for himself, didn't mean he doesn't believe in love at all. He watches the happy couples around him; Jessica and Lorenzo, jubilant after finally being able to be together without hindrance from Shylock, Gratiano and Nerissa, the latter of which helped the Venician control his wayward tongue and rude comments and lastly at Portia and Bassanio, where he lets his eyes linger

Bassanio looked....happy. Truly, wonderfully happy with the woman he loved, and his heart grew warm at how merry he looked. The merchant had always loved it when Bassanio looked like that; his green eyes alight with joy, carefree and with a smile that could rival the sun with how bright it was. He would do anything to keep that expression on his dearest friend's face. But then he felt the ache in his chest creep up again, wrapping its tendrils around him at the way Bassanio looked at Portia like she was his whole world. It was always him, Antonio remembered, that made Bassanio smile like that. And then suddenly, all at once, something in him clicked.

Antonio knew Bassanio would not be able to repay the loans he gave him, he knew that Bassanio was reckless with his money and liked to live more lavishly than he could afford to and he knew that if he continued to give him loans he would eventually run into some trouble. But he still did. Because it was Bassanio and Antonio would find a way to steal the moon from the night sky, uncaring of it's consequences, if he desperately wanted it. He would give him anything he wanted, even if it meant accepting a grant from his greatest rival.

When the news of his imminent execution reached Antonio, he did not think of writing to one of the many lawyers he knew; he did not bother calling his friends in high society or begging Shylock to show him mercy. No, instead he wrote to Bassanio to come home to Venice. Because if he was going to die, he wished to do so after seeing his closest companion one last time. He wished to leave this world, knowing Bassanio would be alright and he wished to take the memories of those last moments with him when he finally departed from this world.

Antonio could feel his breathing quicken as realization rushed through him, as he figured out why all his life he'd always strived towards his best friend's well being. He felt his pulse thrum and his heart pound in his ears as he finally came to an understanding as to why that perfect picture of a family he'd had in his childhood didn't suit his fancy anymore. Because now when he thought of happiness he didn't think of an unnamed beautiful woman who would smile up at him with love in her eyes. Now he thought of Bassanio.

The heart of the famed merchant of Venice could not belong to any woman, for it had already been stolen by the man Antonio called his soulmate.

Antonio now knew why he was so sad, and he was starting to wish he really didn't.

I fr need help if this is what I've been doing in my past time. Which I have so. Pls suggest a therapist. Also took some creative liberties with Antonio's past(forgive me Shakespeare).

#merchant of venice #Merchant of Venice #capitalisation for the win #shakespeare #william shakespeare #antonio #bassanio #antonio x bassanio #antonioxbassanio #gay #??#ig #have fun people #portia #lorenzo #gratiano #nerissa

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roxsannel · 2 years ago

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Lucky Stars by Fantasia Yu.

Princess Mora is a young woman with a bright future, but that future is not necessarily the one she wants, but her royal duties come first and so she heads off to meet her future and the ones who were in charge of organising it, but Mora cannot stand convention and is always looking for an adventure. This time, the adventure finds Mora when she meets someone who works on the Moon she is visiting, but this person is much more interesting than the official events she has to attend, so on a whim, she decides to go on a tour to somewhere which was not on the official itinerary.

It is on this tour that she meets the dashing pilot Darin O’Joy, a rapscallion of the highest order, a bad boy and someone born with charm by the bucket load and Mora is immediately drawn to him, so when he agrees to take her sightseeing, she is overjoyed at the prospect of spending more time with him. Unfortunately, the rest of her party want her to come back to the Moon Palace and continue with her duties, but when opportunity knocks, Mora is more than inclined to take it.

Amid tours of the Moon she is visiting, attacks by space pirates and discovering fantastical people, beasts and places, Mora is torn by her official life and her current more adventurous one, not to mention that she hasn’t actually told Darin that she is a princess, which could cause some issues if she isn’t careful. What will Mora do, follow her duty, or follow her heart? This is a fantasy romance in a space age world which is full of excitement, adventure and space based shenanigans which will pull you in and leave you wanting more.

#journey of a lifetime #chronic illness #invisible illness #cvid #common variable immunodeficiency #zebra #zebra strong #fibromyalgia #spoonie #spoonie life #spoonie reads

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why-what-no · 2 years ago

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Morpheus Having A Sweetheart!God Spouse Would Include

Pairing: Morpheus x God!Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: You got the sweetheart!human headcanons, now you’ve got the sweetheart!god headcanons

Requested By: @miraclesabound @mahirublue @agomeangelcat @jar-of-moondust

Morpheus's lover, the completely opposite of him in every way.

You were cheerful while he was cold, full of life while he looked down on so many things. With an aura of sunshine, always trying to positive.

None of Morpheus's friends thought it would work out between the two of you, knowing how he was.

However, they failed to realize how much happiness your presence brought him. How you could always make him smile

That while you wouldn't make him change his ways, despite the fact that you were as different as the moon and the sun, the two of you loved each other for who you were.

You came up to him one day in the palace, a bouquet of flower's in your hand. Handing it to him with a grin, he took them gently.

"What are these for, my love?" He asked, looking at the pretty plants quizzically. "Have I forgotten a special occasion?"

But you just shook your head, looking delightedly at your beautiful lover. "No, I just wanted to give you flowers."

He kept those flowers in his office since then, using his powers to make sure they wouldn't wilt.

When you were gone visiting friends in other realms, Morpheus was grumpier that usual. And when he was gone, you were a little less bright than usual.

But when you were with him in the Dreaming, he always enjoyed your company. Everyone throughout his realm always had happier dreams whenever you returned.

He even didn't mind your habit of bringing things back with you, usually potted plants, or pretty objects, and even stray animals back to the Dreaming

The pets was where Morpheus would attempt to draw the line, but he had an impossible time saying no to you

You arrived in the dreaming, a handful of baby ravens in your arms, speaking to them like you would for a small child.

"Dearest?" The exasperation was clear in Morpheus's voice. But also, you could tell he was having a hard time trying not to chuckle. "What do you have in your arms?"

"Baby ravens. Their mama was hit by a car." You tilted your arms to show them to him. "I figured Matthew could help with them, since he's a raven too."

"Matthew is a raven of the Dreaming. Those, are wild animals." Morpheus responded with a raised eyebrow. But at the disappointed look on your face, he smiled softly and continued. "But I'm sure there's a place for them somewhere in the Realm."

The look on your face when he gave in was worth it. And he would admit, the birds were sort of endearing.

Not nearly as endearing as he thought you were, however.

Taglist: @stygianoir @minetticatinwonderland , @fangirlmary , @absbdbshhs @kiki13522

#the sandman #the sandman x reader #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman dream #the sandman dream x reader #the sandman morpheus x reader #the sandman morpheus #the sandman headcanons #the sandman dream headcanons #the sandman morpheus headcanons #morpheus headcanons #dream #dream x reader #dream headcanons #dream of the endless headcanons

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aphroditesmoon · 2 years ago

Note

what about being jace's childhood crush, then to disappear for a few years only to return to dragonstone as a full-fledged noble lady? i know it's a really common concept but the idea of shy Jace trying to approach his former (and current) crush makes me all giddybdkdkdndn

go as a dream

jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: none

a/n: sorry I took so long!! I've been so busy these days w school

°°°

The first time he met you, he caught you stealing lemon cakes made for his mother in the kitchen and you punched him in the face before running away with a basket of lemon cakes when he threatened to tell the kitchen maids.

From that moment onward, he was a man in love, a man of age ten and two.

The next and last time he met you was during his thirteenth name day. You had all of your hair up in braids and a deep blue dress that seemed almost black in the dark. Luckily the moon shone bright that night, illuminating on your skin as he finds you by a lake outside the palace feeding fishes.

"They bite you know." His attempt to suprise you had not work, his shoes have already alerted you of his presence moments ago.

"They bite you, my prince." He snorted at your response as he moves to sit next to you.

"Give me some?" He offers to help.

Your head snaps at his direction and your eyes meet, for the first time ever, he has the opportunity to really study your face.

And you were more beautiful up close compared to the incomparable sketch in his dreams that appears every night when he sleeps.

You frown at first, not understanding what he's doing here with you instead of inside the feast laid out for him.

"You should be inside, I'm sure many efforts were put into this feast for you." You suggest casually, turning away from his stare.

"Only if you come with me." His boldness was admirable, you almost had a sense of respect for him because of that.

"Is that an order from my prince?" You raised your eyebrows and he sighs.

"For a little girl you are quite stubborn." You reel back suprised.

"Me-? Well for a little boy you are quite up your own arse." He bursts out laughing and buries his face on his knees.

His reaction was unexpected but contagious as you can't help laughing along.

Soon both of you went back in, meeting the gaze of his worried mother, the princess Rhaenyra.

"Will you dance with me?" He asks suddenly.

When you only stare at him he continues; "My mother is going to drag me somewhere to lecture me about my duty or something, but she can't if I'm already occupied."

Understanding fills you in as you nod slowly. "And if your mother is willing to wait until we're done to lecture you anyways?" You question.

He grins at you mischievously while pulling you to the center to dance. "Then I hope you're prepared to spend the whole night with your feet on the ground and arms in mine."

His mother was in fact, willing to wait until the whole feast was finished to scold him for disappearing. She unfortunately did not forget about it like he hoped she would.

But he could not care less about it, not when the warmth of you palms on his shoulder still burns through. His mother would laugh if he told her, and his brother would jest about it.

But he really did believe she was the most amazing girl in the seven kingdoms, the smartest and prettiest, your beauty rivaling the moon's, and your sharp tongue that never fails to put him in his place while making him feel butterflies. He would find you tomorrow again, he swore.

Though unfortunately, the promise was never fulfilled, as that was the last time he ever saw you. As entranced as he was to you, He did not know or asked of your family house, therefore couldn't find you.

Years passed and he finds himself grown and over his silly infatuation as more concerning issues starts to present himself. Yet some nights he admits, you cross his mind as a part of his happier youth.

And today was one of the moments. He had woken from dreaming of you. a jumbled confusing dream, but of you nonetheless.

Your face plagued his mind longer than he would like, distracted by the memory you two shared, he couldn't get a single task done.

A whole day wasted of his head being plagued by the memory of his childhood crush. Reminded of lords arriving to dragonstone tomorrow for renewal of their pledges and alliance, he forces himself to clear his mind and fall into sleep.

°°°

His brother stormed through his room running towards his peacefully sleeping body and shook him awake.

"Go away you rat" He whines as Lucerys kept shouting something he can't be bothered to listen to.

Pushing a pillow on his face triggered Lucerys to become louder, earnings a groan from Jacaerys.

He removes the pillow and looked at him with puffy eyes.

"Hm? What'd you say?" He asked groggily earning an annoyed sigh from his brother.

"I said, They're here Jace, mother's waiting for you!" Immediately his eyes widen and he scrambles for the bath to clean himself as he curses himself for his irresponsibility.

°°°

He barges into the council room muttering an apology as he takes his heat. His mother sent him a disapproving look before continuing as if she wasn't interrupted by his entrance.

"As I was saying, the oath pledge ceremony will take place this evening, I've already had my maids make accomodations for yours and your daughter's room, I hope you will find it adequate enough my Lord."

The lord laughs and waves her off. "Of course of course, we are indebted for such hospitality, our house will always side with you Princess."

Jacaerys' felt in awe of the loyalty shown in front of him, seeing how many allies have pledge themselves to his mother proved how much his mother deserves to be Queen.

The council was dismissed and as everyone leaves, Jacaerys rushes to get up and join them before Rhaenyra calls out to him.

"Sit here Jace."

He sighed, defeated.

°°°

The lecture has drained him to be honest, but the feast tonight must be attended, it's in the honor of the lords that has come tonight,

It would be unseemly if the crown prince didn't attend.

As he walks inside the hall, heads bow at his direction, he greets some lord's before taking his place at the dinner table.

His mother stands up to make a toast thanking and reassuring the lords of their alliance while he scans the crowd and spots a particular lord from the council meeting this morning and who he assumed was her daughter.

His daughter.

Jace stands up abruptly, his chair making a loud screech noise, and all eyes turns to him in an awkward silence.

His mother looks confused as she asks her son if he's alright.

"I.." He relaxes his heartbeat before waving off the concerned eyes of his mother.

"I apologize, I thought I saw...a bee." unconvincingly he states and sit back down and the eyes slowly leaves him.

All eyes except yours. Directly looking at him, you gift him with a kind smile, one he reciprocate before turning his attention back to the toast.

As the feast official starts, Jace barely eats anything but some cake and wine, wanting to hurry to find you. His brother notices his odd behavior and frowns at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you today, you're acting like you got a bug in your pants of something."

"I'm fine." He says without meeting his eye, basically chugging down his wine, for confidence, he assures himself.

His eyes scans the dancing crowds and stops at the sight of you and ser Erryk Cargyll together.

He had his arm linked with yours as the two of you danced together, and Jace almost jumps off the table to drag ser Erryk away from you.

Of course , he contains himself and walks towards you instead.

Your gaze met his and you didn't look suprised, almost as if you've been waiting for him.

Ser Erryk excuses himself leaving the two of you together.

You give him a small smile and he beams at the sight of it.

"Well, you're going to dance with me until my shoe falls off again or what?" Your voice sent shivers down your spine. The same teasing tone and sarcasm still runs through you. He was glad.

"I will, though, I suggest you prepare yourself, I don't plan on letting you go so easily like last time."

Your smile softens and you take his hand in yours as the two of you slowly move more to the center.

"I should hope not."

His eyes does not leave yours once, and you revel in his attention.

"I looked for you. After you left, but I didn't know who you were, so I couldn't find you." He confesses as the two of you dance in slow turns, arms linked like old times.

"You did?" You asked suprised and he nods.

"I had to leave back that morning, I didn't know you would come to find me, or else I'd ask to say goodbye first." You assured him.

"I know, but it doesn't matter, we're both here now, all grown up, yet still in our old ways. And you should know that now I have you, you'll never be rid of me ever." You laugh at his words and shook your head.

"Oh you still have your head up your arse is it? Well you would do well to know I don't plan on leaving, We'll be residing here from now on, and you'll be seeing so much of me you'll wish you'd take your words back " You jest, wiggling your eyebrows.

He looks at you with such intensity you feel your heart speed up.

"I would never tire of you."

#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #hotd x reader #jace velaryon x reader #game of thrones #house of the dragon x reader #jace targaryen x reader #hotd #jacaerys targaryen

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velidewrites · 2 years ago

Text

Waterfire | Chapter 1

Summary: An unexpected request from the new High Lord of the Autumn Court unravels a series of events that are sure to leave Tarquin's heart changed forever.

Pairing: Tarquin x Eris Vanserra

Word Count: 5k

Note: Dedicating this to @abraxos-and-ataraxia who put me onto this elite ship <3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

The waves crashed softly against the shore, carrying the salty breeze that molded the castles of Adriata.

With the sandstone city spread below him, Tarquin allowed himself to linger in the moment, content to let the fresh scent of the sea caress the power that coursed through his veins. Standing on a balcony perched on one of the the lower levels of the palace, he could still take in the view in its entirety, hear the happy squeals of gulls as they flapped over the gleaming stone and bustling streets.

It was comforting to see Adriata like this—tranquil, undisturbed by war. Even the sky was cloudless above it, as if determined to cast as much sunshine as possible over the healing city. Indeed, soft, afternoon light was draped over the buildings, making it seem as though their tan stone had been replaced with nothing but pure, iridescent gold. Stretching onto the half-moon bay, the sun shimmered off the sea, playing with the turquoise water in the final hours of daylight. Adriata seemed to bask in peace—the sounds of battle long gone, replaced by the gentle whisper of waves.

The thought shimmered deep inside him—a sun of its own, giving life to the High Lord of the Summer Court. Tarquin could only hope the rest of his Court would heal as quickly as Adriata had—and that happiness would be restored at last.

Over a year had passed since the war with Hybern, though Tarquin had been High Lord long enough to know it would take years—if not decades—for the world to forge itself anew. With the advantage of being in a position of power, he’d been working tirelessly to ensure Prythian would not only recover, but progress.

He’d be lying if he’d said working hadn’t helped him, too. Focusing his efforts on helping his Court—the people under his protection—had been gratifying to say the least. It was the knowledge that his rule would make a difference, Tarquin supposed. That when his time came, he would leave the Summer Court—and perhaps, the world—a better place.

Uniting his people was the ultimate goal. He dreamed of a Court where all Fae—High or Lesser—would work and exist together as equals. Only then Summer would thrive, in nothing but blissful peace. Tarquin believed in leading by example—and so, he’d started by opening his borders to all those seeking refuge after the War. Encouraging his citizens to welcome whoever was in need of help, and accommodate them in the Summer Court—with the full support of its rulers.

Now, after months of work, pride filled his very soul as he watched his lands become the place that Fae from all over Prythian considered home—or at the very least, a safe haven where they could lead their lives in undisturbed peace. Tarquin could only hope it was there to stay, that no storms would plague the sea that enveloped his borders.

A tingling sensation around his feet pulled him out of his thoughts as the sea breeze carried the sand onto the balcony, warm and golden as it settled on the stone. Tarquin did not mind the intrusion, finding himself wishing for the wind to carry him to a beach somewhere far away instead. A much more appealing option than being forced into the meeting that has been on his mind ever since he received the request a week ago.

As if conjured straight out of Tarquin’s thoughts, a servant entered the office, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight that poured into the room from the open doors of the balcony. “My lord,” the male bowed before announcing, “the High Lord of the Autumn Court is here.”

Stepping out of the balcony, Tarquin sighed. “Send him in,” he ordered. Once again, the servant bowed before making his way out, leaving his High Lord to the distant crashing of waves outside.

With a single motion of his hand, the balcony doors shut with a soft click, the room instantly a shade darker with only the windows to allow in the light. Fixing the sleeves of his tunic, white and lined with golden thread, Tarquin noted a few grains of sand grazing the stone floor, undoubtedly brought in under the soles of his shoes. The thought of having a piece of the beach with him brought unexpected comfort, and he rolled the tension back from his shoulders, silently promising himself to go for a midnight swim once this was all over.

Too soon, the servant returned—this time, with company. “Eris Vanserra, my lord.”

“Thank you, Ilios,” Tarquin offered in dismissal. With a deep, final bow, Ilios was gone, and the High Lord of Summer turned his attention to a guest he’d never thought would enter the place he called his home.

Eris nodded, his bright, red hair catching a glimpse of the afternoon sun. He’d cut it short since he’d last seen him—short enough to display the arched ears. He had a small freckle just near the top. “Tarquin. It’s been a while,” Eris said in a manner of greeting. After so many months, he’d had forgotten the sound of his voice—rich yet smooth, like fresh honey dripping down the comb.

“Indeed,” Tarquin agreed, gesturing to the centre of the room, where two armchairs had been set up for their meeting. Draped in velvets of deep blue and purple, the chairs sat opposite a round coffee table, coated in tinted glass that reflected light of too many colours to register at once. The room’s interior had not been one he’d choose for himself, but there was a reasoning behind opting for Cresseida’s office for this particular meeting. His own space was situated on the higher levels of the palace, and he’d had been reluctant to allow Eris to see into rooms that could potentially hold secrets Tarquin did not trust his visitor with.

Taking the blue chair, Tarquin took the opportunity offered by their momentary silence to finally take in his guest. Eris had only been High Lord for little over a month, but Tarquin knew from personal experience it could take mere days to carve the effects of such responsibility in the features of one who bore it.

Usually twisted in cruelty, as Tarquin had so well remembered from Under the Mountain and long after, Eris’s face now betrayed signs of the kind of tiredness only a fellow High Lord could notice. The slight furrow of his brows, for instance, drawn together in constant worry. The circles under his eyes, a shade darker than his pale skin, begging for sweet rest that could not be satisfied by sleep.

His lips. The last time he’d seen them, they were curved up in a mocking sneer—Eris’s usual manner of carrying himself through conversation, one that Tarquin had readied himself for all week since the High Lord of Autumn had requested an audience. Now, those lips formed a thin line as Eris’s eyes landed on his, their shining amber the only thing that seemed not to have been affected by his new role—amber, watchful and full of focus.

“I understand condolences are in order,” Tarquin finally spoke.

A small gleam of those sharp eyes, barely noticeable as Eris leaned back in his seat. “Yes. Quite the tragedy.”

Having personally observed Beron’s cruelty Under the Mountain, Tarquin could hardly express such sentiment. Instead, he forced out the only truth he had to say on the matter. “High Lord or not, an assassination is an atrocity that has no place in an era of peace.”

He truly had believed that. Tarquin would hate to admit an exception to the rule. Though, he supposed, the act had already been done, and some cruel part of him knew he’d be lying if he said Beron’s death hadn’t brought him some relief.

Amber eyes surveyed him watchfully. “Trust that I have my best spies working to uncover those responsible.”

Tarquin may have been a pacifist, but he was hardly a fool. There was no doubt in his mind that the person responsible was sitting right in front of him. Still, he played the game, offering whatever truths he could scrape to satisfy the conversation. “I do hope your mother is doing alright. After centuries by Beron’s side, it must be a painful loss.”

“We were all quite shaken,” Eris agreed, though not a shred of sorrow lingered in his gaze. Nor did remorse, for that matter.

Tarquin tensed, drawing his focus aways from the eyes that clearly offered nothing but lies and fake pleasantries. Eris may not have been High Lord for a long time, but growing up and serving under Beron had seemed to have done its job. He hated this part, Tarquin thought. The scheming and pretending. The way it had become such an integral part to politics. No world of peace could be built on the foundation of lies. They were too weak, too loosely woven to offer any stability. Any truth in happiness.

Instead, Tarquin turned his attention to the sea breeze beyond the walls that had now seemed too tight, sheltering the room from the world beyond them. Beneath invisible hands of his magic, the windows opened, letting the salty scent infuse the air, a flicker of comfort under the stiff atmosphere that had managed to fill the room.

He let his eyes shift back toward Eris. “Still, I feel compelled to offer my congratulations. You’ve been Second to your father long enough. I am sure you’re looking forward to your certainly lengthy rule.”

Amber eyes gleamed with challenge. “It is a responsibility I do not take lightly, High Lord,” Eris warned before adding, “I do hope both of our rules are as lengthy as they are fruitful. I would hate to see them ended as abruptly as my dear father’s had been.”

Tarquin’s jaw tightened. “Is that a threat, Vanserra?”

Finally, that mocking smile he’d been waiting for, the sight enough for Tarquin to grit his teeth. “On the contrary. It is merely an extension of my best wishes.”

“Is that what you’ve come here for, then? To offer your best wishes?”

Eris leaned forward in his seat. Pleasantries were over, it seemed, as even the seagulls behind the closed terrace doors had gone quiet. His gaze fixed on him, gleaming like a sizzling flame, and Tarquin was suddenly reminded that with his new role, Eris acquired more than merely a title. Fire, the thought burned inside his mind. He commanded the element, almost as cruel and unpredictable as his kind was known to be. As if in answer, Tarquin’s power rushed through his body with the force of waves rising from an ocean, ready to put out any fire that threatened burn his Court to the ground.

Red eyebrows jolted in surprise, and for a second, Tarquin wondered if Eris could hear the magic that screamed to flood the room around them—an ability that should not have been possible, and yet…

The fire died out, and Eris merely propped himself up on the soft arms of the chair. “Times are different now,” he said, fingers caressing the purple velvet. “As you said, this is an era of peace. I only wish to return the Autumn Court to what it once had been.”

Feeling his power settle back to a steady course, Tarquin asked carefully, “Which is what, exactly?”

“Let’s not pretend my father’s best interest laid in the well-being of his Court,” Eris drawled. “Autumn deserves a ruler that looks after his people, not himself.”

Tarquin said very quietly, “And I suppose that ruler is you?”

Eris cocked his head, red hair glinting with unruffled grace. “I’m the only choice left, aren’t I?”

“I’m sure there are a lot more Vanserras out in this world, Eris.”

For the first time since he’d set foot in Adriata, Eris smiled, amber eyes shining with unfeigned amusement. “You are not what I expected, High Lord of Summer.”

He didn’t know why, but he corrected, “Tarquin.”

Eris hummed, as if weighing the word on his tongue. “Tarquin.”

He leaned back in his seat, a new sensation tingling in his chest, much like the sand that had caressed his feet earlier. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s say you are what your Court needs—”

“That is not something for you to question,” Eris interrupted.

His mouth twisted to the side. “You have come to my Court for a reason, High Lord,” Tarquin said. “Clearly, you want something from me. I will question whatever I please to decide if you’re worth my help.”

Eris’s smile sharpened. “I’ve got to say, this visit is far more enjoyable than I anticipated.”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” Tarquin only said.

Amber eyes studied him for a moment. “I haven’t decided yet.”

A fresh wave of salty air whooshed into the office, clearing his mind and grounding him in his seat. “What do you want from me, Eris?”

Eris leaned back. “I told you. I’d like to ask your help in rebuilding my Court.”

Tarquin suppressed a huff. “How do you plan on doing that? You and I both know your father had not left much to rebuild. Beron was blinded by power and poorly chosen alliances. His mistakes left your citizens in search for a new home, well away from Autumn’s borders. Many of them found it in my own. I cannot blame them. Your Court is known for cruelty like no other.”

He watched as Eris’s smile faded. “Autumn and Summer are neighbours. With your pacifist ways, I thought you’d be the first to wish to strengthen the relationship between our Courts.”

Tarquin clenched his jaw. “There is no relationship to strengthen. Your father made sure of that.”

Eris’s face tightened. “I am not my father.”

“I’m not sure your people would agree. There is a reason they had chosen to stay in the safety of my borders rather than returning to their home.”

Utter silence filled the room as the ever-present fire died out from Eris’s amber eyes. For a moment, Tarquin wondered if he had gone too far.

“Eris—”

“Don’t,” he only said, rising from his seat. “Your lack of trust is misplaced, but understandable. With time, you might see a worthy ally in me and my Court, rather than a reflection of Beron and his pitiful choices. I only ask that that you hear me out. You don’t need to give me a chance, but perhaps you may extend that courtesy to the Autumn Fae you’re so graciously harbouring within your borders.” Tearing his gaze away from Tarquin, Eris turned to the door before adding, “I’ll take my leave tomorrow. If you change your mind before then, you know where to find me.”

And with that, Eris left.

He cursed himself for it, but Tarquin wished he’d stay.

***

The Princess of Adriata found him lingering in her office minutes after the sun had set under the horizon.

“You’re still here?” Cresseida asked in her usual manner of greeting.

Tarquin sighed, turning away from the balcony to face her. “I needed to think.”

A shadow played on the corners of her lips, teasing to curve them up in a smile. “Vanserra give you a hard time?” she mocked.

He grimaced. “Something like that.”

“Oh?” Cresseida mused, plopping down on the purple chair. Tarquin’s eyes followed, as if they could still see the way Eris’s form stilled in the velvety seat, his eyes dimming upon hearing the harsh words leave Tarquin’s Cauldron-damned mouth. He blinked the image away, returning his focus to the female before him.

“He wants us to ally with his Court. Offer our help in rebuilding it.”

Cresseida’s white brows furrowed. “By doing what, exactly?”

Shame washed over him as he admitted, “I don’t know. I didn’t give him a chance to explain.”

Blue eyes widened in shock. “What?”

“Look, I—” Tarquin sighed. “I don’t like this situation. Beron was known for his scheming, and Eris is no better. You should see the way he talks, Cresseida. He’s too calculating, too secretive. Plus, I’m pretty sure he killed his father.”

His cousin rolled her eyes. “So? Someone had to do it eventually. Kudos to him for having the guts.”

“Cresseida—”

“No, Tarquin,” she pressed. “You keep talking about your equality, your peace. It’s a noble sentiment, but open your eyes. This is no peace. Adriata was destroyed twice in less than a century. If—when—another war comes, we will not be ready to protect this Court again. We could use an ally.”

“There are other Courts to ally with,” Tarquin countered.

“Oh, please,” the Princess scoffed. “No matter what undying promises of allegiance they lay at our feet, the Solar Courts will fight for each other before they bother to look past their mountains. Winter is still in ruin after Under the Mountain. Spring has already fallen, Tamlin alive or not. Most of the Court lives in Summer now. Autumn is our neighbour. They could be useful.”

Tarquin’s lips pressed together in a tight line. “Forming an official alliance with another Court could send the wrong message,” he argued.

“So don’t make it official,” Cresseida offered. “Help him rebuild his Court or whatever it is that Eris Vanserra wants these days. A favour for a favour. I do not care if you don’t trust him, Tarquin. You’ve been High Lord long enough to understand that peace is temporary, and that in times like this, your duty is to your people first.”

He considered for a moment before he said, “I still don’t know what favour it is he wants from me. Rebuilding his Court could mean anything. Sending resources, establishing trade routes…”

“So find out,” Cresseida demanded. “And don’t let those pretty eyes distract you this time.”

Tarquin’s brows rose. “Pretty eyes?”

“What?” she protested, a faint blush now staining her cheeks. “Eris might be a Vanserra, but he’s as attractive as he is cruel.”

“Cauldron, Cresseida,” Tarquin sighed. “Please don’t tell me you did not just make this whole speech because you want Eris to visit Adriata more often.”

She huffed. “I didn’t. I actually care about the future of this Court, you asshole.”

“Careful, cousin,” Tarquin warned, though a smile began forming on his lips. “I still am your High Lord, you know.”

She rolled her eyes at him once more. “Then be a High Lord and find out what it is exactly that Eris Vanserra wants from you. Or, more importantly, what it is you want from him.”

The image of those amber eyes sparkled in his mind again.

Mother spare him.

***

For a city of the shining sun, golden beaches and shimmering seas, Adriata was nothing less than exquisite as it basked in soft, pale moonlight.

The view from Tarquin’s bedroom offered the most spectacular views of it all, yet he found that not even the gentle caress of silvery light over the sleeping sea could calm his raging mind.

I am not my father, Eris’s words hummed in his head with every loud thud of his heart.

I only ask that that you hear me out.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

You don’t need to give me a chance.

Oh, but he wanted to.

You know where to find me.

“My lord?” a voice sounded behind him.

Taquin whipped back, torn from the honeyed voice that seemed to stick to his lungs, blocking the air out until he could hear it again.

“Ilios,” he sighed in relief. “What are you doing here at this time?”

“My apologies, High Lord,” the male bowed. “It appears you have a visitor.”

Tarquin’s brows furrowed; it was nearing midnight. “Who is it?”

Ilios’s brown eyes seemed to avert his blue ones. “It’s Eris Vanserra, my lord.”

His stomach clenched.

You know where to find me.

It seemed that Eris had found him first.

“Send him in.”

Stepping out of the small balcony of his bedroom, Tarquin couldn’t shake the feeling that some cruel fate was echoing their meeting from hours ago—only this time, it would take place in a room veiled in darkness, with the moon’s pale light peering weakly through the shadows. Suddenly, he became very aware of every limb of his body, his hand hanging awkwardly at his sides. Was he supposed to cross his arms? Tie them behind his back? Prop them on his hips? No, that would have been ridiculous.

The choice seemed to be rendered meaningless as Eris entered the room, stopping only under a soft ray of moonlight that shone upon the cool stone. Gone were the immaculate clothes he’d worn earlier this afternoon, his carefully combed hair now disheveled as it hung loosely over his face in soft waves. Tarquin decided he liked the way the red looked under the silvery light of the moon—a deep, wine-like shade unlike its usual crimson.

He swallowed hard, suddenly very aware they were now in his bedroom. “What are you doing here, Eris?”

Amber gaze, darker somehow in the night, fixed on him, unwavering. “I know what you are afraid of, Tarquin,” Eris said.

He ignored the shiver that rippled through him at the sound of his name on Eris’s tongue.

“You have every right not to trust me,” he continued. “But I need you to know that I would never hurt your Court. That I would never hurt you.”

Stunned, Tarquin stumbled back a step. “Eris—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish. In two, quick strides, Eris closed the distance between them, his mouth crashing against his, stronger than the waves of a raging sea.

His tongue was like hot fire dancing in his mouth, all-consuming and unafraid to dive deep past the shore. Strong fingers tangled into his white hair, and Tarquin found himself mimicking the movement, dying to feel its softness against his skin. Flames licked at his body hungrily, begging to devour him whole as Eris’s hands came up to frame his hips, guiding him back step by step until Tarquin felt his calves hit the soft mattress of his bed.

His veins pulsed with a mix of shock and lust as Eris broke free from his mouth, from a kiss hotter than a summer’s day. Any sound of protest died on Tarquin’s tongue as Eris ripped the shirt of his body, revealing strong arms and a pale, defined chest.

Turquoise eyes went wide as Tarquin scanned the toned muscles that formed his stomach, the V that peered from beneath the soft linen of Eris’s pants. His hands were on him in an instant, pulling him down, pulling him closer until there was only a breath between them.

“Do you want this? Want me?” Eris asked.

“Yes,” Tarquin gasped. “Yes.”

Those red brows furrowed, and Eris pulled away an inch. “Tarquin.”

“Yes,” he repeated, fingers digging into his lover’s arms.

“Tarquin!”

Tarquin’s eyes shot open.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Cresseida shouted, hovering over his heaving body in exasperation.

The dream began fading away as reality sank in, as tangible as the waves of seawater that surrounded his bed.

Tarquin blinked. Waves—

“Shit,” he cursed, sending the water that flooded his room away to the balcony, his racing heart steadying as he heard it descend down the walls to hit the ground beneath.

“What is wrong with you?” Cresseida demanded. “You can’t just summon the sea while you’re sleeping! Unless you were planning to die and take this whole palace with you.”

A dream. It was only a dream.

By the Mother.

“Why are you in my room, Cresseida?”

She let out a heavy breath, stepping away from his bed at last. “Vanserra is leaving. If you still want to catch him, you better go now, High Lord.”

Shit indeed.

***

Entering the room, a small office on the ground floor of the palace, Tarquin ran his fingers through the knots in his hair, wondering if he looked as disheveled as Eris had in his dream.

Mercifully, Eris was there, standing by a small table of light wood. His hair was nowhere near a mess, combed as immaculately as he’d remembered it from the day before. A jacked of deep green rested on his shoulders, the golden threads woven through the fabric accentuating the knowing gleam of his amber eyes as they rested upon Tarquin’s form.

Feeling his cheeks begin to burn, Tarquin prayed to the Mother, Cauldron and any gods that would listen for his dream to fade away from his mind, for the image of Eris’s bare chest and burning eyes, darkened with desire—desire for him—to blur out from his memory forever. But watching his red hair glisten with the Summer sunshine, Tarquin realised he was in a shit deeper than the seas of Adriata.

Eris’s gaze dragged up his form, lighting a fire in every spot where those russet eyes lingered for longer than a second. His skin prickled, taking his mind back to the way broad hands traced every inch of his body, slender fingers digging into his muscles with every hot breath. Feeling the heat rise through him, Tarquin wondered if the High Lord of Autumn’s powers included igniting a hunger inside him, burning brighter than a living flame.

Shit, shit shit. He needed to get it together. Eris was here on Court business, and his dream was nothing but a trick played on him by his treacherous mind and a direct result of Cresseida’s teasing the day before. A figment of his imagination, roughed up after the long day he’d spent out in the scorching sun before his meeting with Eris. The sun—and nothing more—was the only reason why his body felt as though it was lit on fire.

He enjoyed it, though. More than he’d like to admit.

Mother spare him.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” Eris finally asked, his voice somehow deeper than Tarquin remembered.

Shit.

Feeling his composure hang by a thread, Tarquin asked, “You’re telling me to what do you in my own palace?”

Eris’s eyebrows rose. “Would you rather stand?”

He had no idea how, but he could swear a shadow of a smile curved up the corner of Eris’s lips. It made his body burn even hotter.

Anger, Tarquin told himself. It was anger that sent fire into his veins and made his blood boil. This male was aggravating. Nothing more.

Tarquin sat down, though.

“Let us begin,” he said, gesturing to the chair opposite his own—a rather pathetic attempt to regain control of this meeting.

Eris smirked openly now as he gracefully dropped onto his seat. “Right.”

Eris might be a Vanserra, but he’s as attractive as he is cruel, Cresseida’s voice sounded in his mind. But Tarquin was a High Lord. Attractive or not, he would not let Eris toy with him in his own Court.

After all, water would always put out fire, no matter how hot it burned.

“You said you need Summer’s help in rebuilding the Autumn Court,” Tarquin began. “But frankly, I don’t see how our aid could boost your internal strength. After all, the true strength of a Court lies within its people.”

“That’s exactly it,” Eris said, lacing his fingers atop the wooden surface. “But as you pointed out so perceptively yesterday, most of my people seem to have found a new home beyond my Courts borders. Most of them had left just before Beron returned from Under the Mountain. Others followed during the War.”

Understanding dawned on him like the rising sun. “You want me to send the Autumn Fae back to your Court? The same ones that found refuge within my borders, ones that offered safety when yours could not—” he accused, feeling anger stir deep inside him. Was that what Eris wanted? To reclaim Tarquin’s people after years of suffering they’d been forced to endure?

As if reading the thoughts off his face, Eris spoke calmly, “They are my people, Tarquin.”

Beneath the table, Tarquin gripped his chair tighter, ignoring the sound of his name fall from Eris’s lips.

“Like you said, the people are essential to the Court’s functioning. Look what happened to Spring. Its lands are deserted, with their High Lord the only beast left to roam around them. I do not want Autumn to share Spring’s fate.”

“I’m not going to exile my citizens and betray the trust they put in my Court,” Tarquin said, his tone unyielding.

Eris’s lips tightened. “I’m not asking you to exile anyone. I am asking you to encourage them to consider returning home.”

Paint a picture of a reformed Autumn, safe under new leadership. That’s what Eris truly wanted. But how was Tarquin to know that Autumn was truly safe? No matter what Eris had said, those Fae were still his people—whether they’d been born in Summer or not. He would protect them at all costs.

“What if they already found their home here?” he asked.

For a moment, there was only silence.

“Please, Tarquin.”

Eris Vanserra never pleaded. Perhaps that is why Tarquin now searched his face, and, for the first time today, truly allowed himself to take it in—take in the tiredness that perhaps carved deeper than he’d originally thought. A part of him, one that was not the High Lord of the Summer Court, wanted nothing more but the believe Eris had truly cared for those people—had truly wanted to create a home for them that his father had taken away.

Tarquin leaned back in his chair. “I will tell the Autumn Fae of your visit, and of my impression.”

Eris nodded, the barest of creases smoothed out from his forehead. “Thank you.”

“But I refuse to lie to my people when I have no certainty that the cruelty of the Autumn Court has been put to rest along with your father.”

Eris had gone quiet. Seconds had passed, each one longer than the other, and Tarquin found himself holding his breath.

“Then come with me,” Eris finally said.

This, Tarquin did not expect.

“What?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“Come with me. To the Autumn Court. Let me prove my Court is worth becoming a home to my—to our—people again.”

Water had the ability to put out any fire—he could end this there and then. But looking into Eris’s eyes, Tarquin decided he would let his fire burn for a little longer.

“Alright.”

#eris x tarquin #eris x tarquin fic #eris vanserra #tarquin #acotar #acotar fic #my writing #shadowban hides my tags so any reblogs are appreciated <3

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bloodycassian · 3 years ago

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reader x azriel - azriel takes reader to a bakery.

Azriel's cool charm filled the room, his shadows snaking the floor and receding as the meeting quieted. Without a word, he nodded in dismissal at the group and they continued debating again. He sat back, stone faced while the high lords discussed what there was to be done about The Middle. More specifically, the mountain and caverns underneath that had hosted the horror show for forty nine years.

Guards stationed behind each high lord and their company, Azriel devoured the information his shadows brought back to him. There wasnt a single person in the room without at least two daggers on them.

You leaned back in your chair next to Thesan, resting your chin on your hand. The plush amenities of Day court and their pastel colors had taken some getting used to over the last week, but you grew to appreciate the massive table in front of you. Large enough to fit all seven high lords and their company around it, along with a few extra chairs. If it wasnt for the lofty ceilings and open windows into several balconies you would have thought such a harty table to be gawdy, but in this instance it seemed utterly necessary. Especially when Rhysand's cousin slapped a giant map of Pryhtian down on it and the high lord's power shifted pawns throughout. Mapping each court's armies and defenses.

A few of the leaders adjusted pawns, moving a few troops from one side of their court to another. Azriel perked up from his darkened corner at this, stepping forward and taking a glance at the map. He glared in your direction, catching your eye. He was utterly breathtaking, even with such a malice filled look on his face. You broke his stare to glance at your court's pawns on the map. A moment's hesitation after each high lord had stopped moving their pieces made your stomach drop. You glanced toward Thesan, seeing if he would move. Rhysand seemed to be waiting as well. Azriel slowly, threateningly moved two of Thesan's pawns further south. He crossed his arms and walked back to his corner, his shadows almost hiding him completely. You felt Thesan tense as he shot Rhysand a charming grin.

You met the dark eyes of the spymaster, and rose from your seat. Stepping between a Beron and Kallis to move two more pawns east. You met his eyes again and winked, turning and going back to your seat. Thesan had ordered you before you left for the meeting to disperse your forces throughout the land, so it would make sense that the spymaster didnt know if the extra changes.

The room was tense, each high lord looking to each other to see if anyone else was hiding their foces. Helion suddenly let out a booming laugh, makin you jump slightly. "Rhysand have you been keeping your spymaster too busy perhaps?" Rhysand chuckled, leaning forward in his seat and purring his reply "I'll have to send them back to training camp." His general's wings flared slightly and you fought to hold back a smile. Azriel revealed nothing, and said nothing until the meeting was over.

You were cleaning the scattered pawns from the map when Azriel approached. He was silent, but pushed the figuines from his side over to you in a pile. You nodded thankfully, eyeing him as he moved to roll up the cloth map still laid out over the grand table. You felt your hands get clammy, the silence in the room was palapable. The only other sounds were the hushed rustling of the trees in the slight breeze outside. The balcony doors were still open, and a cool wind slithered into the room. You opened the cloth bag for the pawns, there was a sudden clattering against the marble floor. You sighed, setting the bag down. Before you turned to pick it up you noticed the darkened atmospehre of the room. Then bumped straight into Azriel's chest in your distraction.

"Sorry I-" You felt your face turn hot and made to step back, only to find yourself slipping on the damned pawn. He caught your arm, stablising you. "Are you normally this accident prone?" He asked, a small smirk on his lips. You looked to where his hand held you, and noticed the textured skin there. He cleared his throat and lowered your arm.

"I guess you could blame it on the wind." You stammered. What you meant to say was 'I guess you could blame it on the fine Illyrian shadow master in the room'. His smirk seemed to say he knew exactly what you were thinking. And maybe with those shadows he did know. His build seemed to fill the room standing this close to you, broad shoulders -t support the massive wings no doubt- and muscles and the hair was immaculate. He smelled of pine and leather, sea salt and something darker. Maybe that was the shadows themselves.

"You dont like the cold?" He asked, head tilting slightly.

"Should I really be telling a spymaster anything that I'm afraid of?" You challenged, smiling at him. His eyes seemed to light up. He nodded and stepped back. You forgoe the groan of displeasure at the empty space between you.

"Have you ever really been in the cold before? Dawn court and all.." He trailed off, sauntering towards the balcony and motioning you to follow. You obeyed, dropping the cloth bag on the table. You took your time approaching him, marvelling at the wings he bore. How thick the outer edges were, and how delicate the inner folds looked. In the dull darkness you could barely make out the inky black forms of them as he stretched them out. They flared and tilted, and you understood why they were so hard to see.

His shadows had melded into the darkness, shielding them and his lower half completely, Blending him into the night. Becoming a shadow himself. You felt a chill run through you at the sight. He was darkness, and all the whispers on the wind. The epitome of pure silence, but not pressing, a soothing darkness, silence and comfort. Liek a comfort of sleep.

"Are you going to stare or come for a ride with me?" he asked, folding his wings in tight and turning towards you. He leaned back on the balcony confidently, the column of his neck exposing a few scars behind his ear. You shuddered to think of what kind of beast could make such an impact on someone who was mist and shadow.

"If someone sees us Thesan will know immidea-" He cut you off with a stare, and you felt coolness begin creeping up your legs. You felt nervous, heart hammering in your chest as he stood so close to you, eyes knowingly glancing to your chest briefly. His shadows danced around you like a fog, asking permission to cover you further. And you were sure they were reporting back to him how badly he had riled you.

"No one will see us." He promised, holding a hand out to you. You took a steadying breath and nodded nervously. As soon as you touched that scarred hand he had you covered in the snaking darkness, the tendrils weaving around you protectively. It felt like being in a heavy ocean mist, and it brought goosebumps to your skin. Azriel huffed a small laugh as he bent to scoop you up.

Before you could protest and come up with some sort of excuse, he had you cradled to his chest and he was summoning those shadows even more around the both of you.

And then you were falling. Your stomach leapt into your throat, fingers clawing into Azriel's shoulders. You were sure you were dead when the feeling stopped. "Open your eyes." The shadow master squeezed you a bit extra, getting your attention. "I dont think I can." you muttered, but slowly peeked through your lashes to see the millions of tiny lights below.

The breath was stolen from you as your eyes flew open, gazing in amazement at the city below. Dawn court was built more upwards than any of the other courts, so you were used to seeing castles towering above and lights shine from them. But you'd never seen the city from this high. You wondered how he had flown so high in such a short time but decided you didnt want to know the answer even if he could tell you. The enormous archways of the high lord's palace was visible from the sky. The stars above were dull, as usual in Dawn and Day court. You never found much pleasure or satisfaction at night in either territory. It only made you wonder what Night court's stars were like. If the moon beckoned and blessed the land like the noon sun seemed to make everything in Day court shimmer.

"You can stop trying to claw me to death at any time." His voice rumbled softly, almost scaring you. You loosened your grip on him, only enough so he wouldn't complain. He banked slowly, you could only tell so because the spires coming closer to you as you approached the center of the city. The streets below were lit with clear bright lights that showed off all the boutiques of main street and the patio areas for bars all around. The stained glass windows of second story balconies reflected pastel lights on to the sidewalks, painting them in pastels.

You could smell the bakery below, churning out different treats of pastries and breads for the late night drinkers. The sweet warm smell of it made your mouth water. "Would you like to stop in somewhere?" Azriel asked as he whisked you upward again, avoiding the tall lights as the city rose up hill.

"I think you might be recognized a bit too easily." You chided, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He was watching the sky, his face unlike any expression you'd ever seen him wear. At peace, it seemed. He didnt have the clenched jaw or stern eyebrow look anymore. His hair ruffled slightly at the small breeze that came through the shield he had placed around you.

He considered his fame as Spymaster for a moment, then nodded. And plummeted you downwards into the city. You fought not to scream, only digging your nails into his skin again, hoping it hurt. He landed in a narrow alley, hidden from the blinding lights of the street. The smell of sweets hung in the air. You still held tight on to his arm after he set you on your feet. You then shoved him, palm straight into his shoulder and sent him a step back, his wings flared and balanced him before he could falter any further. "You could tell me next time!" You growled at him. A clever grin graced his features, smoothing out his surprise at the shove.

"Only members of the night court get free flying privileges." He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "I expect my payment with a side of cinnamon." He nodded towards the street. You glanced back and he was gone, likely shouded in the darkness somewhere. You whispered curses at him while heading to the bakery.

"Why do you like cinnamon so much?" You asked around a mouthful of sweet bread. Azriel had devoured his chocolate and cinnamon twist, along with the extra side of cinnamon. He still had evidence of it on his face and shirt despite the windy takeoff before he put his shield up. "Why dont you?" He retorted, his powerful wings gliding you around the east side of the tower where the week of meeting had taken place.

"I just wouldnt expect the Shadow master of the Night Court to have such a sweet tooth." You grinned at him, absently wiping the sugar from his face. His eyes went to yours in an instant, and your heart hammered being pinned by that stare. He landed gracefully on the balcony, eyes still locked on you. He merely stood there, holding you. Both frozen.

#azriel fic #azriel #azrielxreader #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fic

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asgardwinter · 3 years ago

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Cruel Timing

summary | At the TVA, Loki is surprised to see you having a huge role in his future, not only in his past as he once thought.

pairing | Loki x fem!Reader

warnings | SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 1 OF LOKI, description of violence and death, angst (this is going to be really sad), some fluff (but don't get attached to it).

word count | 2k

author’s note | Wrote this while waiting for tomorrow's episode. This is the first time I’m posting something here so please be kind. Also I’m not a native english speaker so there are probably some mistakes (feel free to correct me anytime). Feedback is always welcomed.

Hope you like it <3

Loki Laufeyson Masterlist | Taglist | Main Masterlist

Something between 1000 and 1200 years before 2012

You were sitting on the soft grass of the Asgardian palace’s garden looking up at the bright stars that lighted the flowers and other beautiful plants. All of the Asgardian court was in the great hall enjoying one of the greatests balls of the year, but it was not the place you wanted to be right now.

Since the only noise that affected that region of the palace was an echo of the loud music played in the ball and the only light came from the stars and the moon, the gardens were the perfect place to be away from that craziness, away from everybody and everything you were tired of.

“Shouldn’t you be inside dancing around?” A voice you knew really well asked out of nowhere, making you jump a little.

“I’m exactly where I should be, Loki.” You said looking back at the sky to avoid his piercing look. “But how about you? Shouldn’t you be thinking about ruling somewhere?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” He remarked with a bit of sadness in his voice. “You never avoid me."

You turned over your eyes without even giving him a glance. The once calm atmosphere was now overwhelming for you, Loki’s arm almost grazing yours did nothing to calm you the decision you had made early that day.

“It’s…"

“Don’t say ‘it’s something from your head’, because I know that’s the biggest lie. You can't fool me” Loki cutted you a sentence before you even had the chance to talk it off. “I know better than anyone here, so please just tell me the truth!”

The comfortable silence that was common between the two of you weren’t there anymore. The only thing that calmed you was the great amount of stars in the sky, almost calling you to explore them and you just wanted to follow them to learn.

“I want to run away,” You just let it slip out without, not having the energy to hide that from him anymore. Loki looked at you right away with a shocked expression designing his handsome features.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I want to go away from Asgard and it's madness. I was thinking about traveling around the universe, visiting as much of it as I can. I’m not even near one of the greatest warriors. I’m not from a powerful family. I’m just myself and will never be someone like my sister. I’m not even near enough for a ruler and it's not like I really want a kingdom, I just want a happy life.”

“But we are happy,” He said in a low voice, almost inaudible. “We’ll be even more happy by ruling Asgard, Midgard, all of the nine realms together. We’ll be the greatest in the galaxy one day, that’s our dream.”

“Loki, that's your dream.”

“No, we always talked about this. Me and you, king and queen, maybe even emperors…”

“That’s your dream!” You screamed it wanting for him to understand.

“What?” He finally stopped to listen.

“I only agreed to do this because I’d be with you! Not because I would be ‘queen of the nine realms’, but because we would be together above all things!” You busted off the words that were silenced for weeks now. “All I ever want is your love but you seem to forget it every time. All you think nowadays is your master plan to rule everyone and everything, how people are unhappy because of their freedom. Can you tell me how much time we spent together in the last months?” You laughed when he was unable to answer. “You know we don't even talk anymore. I never felt so alone like this, you feel like your brother shadow and I like my sisters but I thought I’d always have you but I don’t! The only thing you talk about is ruling, and that’s when you talk to me because for the past weeks, and I dare to say months, you and I have been far away from your priorities.”

“But, my love, I need to do this for us. The future will be bright. I just need a bit more patience from you until I can make things right. Until we are at the top of the universe together and…”

“I already felt like I was at the top of the universe when I was by your side. When you looked at me with such adoration that I felt like the most precious thing in the nine realms” You muttered. “I don’t feel like that anymore when I’m with you and it hurts like hell.”

“I hope that one day you’ll understand why I’m doing this.”

“And I hope that it won’t be too late when you realise you can find happiness away from power.”

With that being said you raised to your feet and left Loki in the garden, already thinking of where was the furthest place from Asgard you could go and how you could convince Heimdall to keep your location a secret.

2012 (but it’s the TVA so the time is weird)

Loki was overwhelmed with the later events. The TVA, his “greatest hits”, infinity stones as paperweights, no magic to rely on… that was awful to say the least.

With the frustrated escape he was back in that mysterious room that supposedly was showing him his destiny. He didn’t want to accept that he was the one directly responsible for his mother’s death, the one person that was always by his side. Loki decided to learn how to operate that weird machine, pressing a button that made the scene of the Avenger fighting hop forward, passing through his imprisonment and the death of his mom where it paused.

Tears started flooding his eyes now that Agent Mobius wasn’t near him to see it. Loki started to speed up the scenes one more time, pausing at the sight of his father.

“I love you, my sons.”

Loki looked at the screen, that simple statement helped nothing to contain the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. He would be loved in the future.

“Remember this place. Home.”

“Loki, I thought the world of you. I thought that we’re going to fight side by side forever.”

Smiling through the tears, Loki felt his heart warming with his brother's statement. The scenery changed but it was still Thor, this time he had an eye patch to distinguish him from the last one.

“Maybe you’re not so bad after all, brother.” Thor said with a small smile lightening his face.

“Maybe not,” The Loki on the screen replied.

“Thank you. If you were really here I could even give you a hug.”

“I’m here.”

Loki’s smile widened a bit, seeing that affectionate moment between him and the brother he always tried to compete with was important. That was when his eyes almost fell off his face with the sight of someone he didn’t expect to be a part of his future.

“Who would have thought that you’d both be so caring towards the other,” You said leaning at the door frame. There were some clean cuts in your cheeks and arms and you were limping as you started to move towards them.

“Should you even be standing?”, Loki rushed to your side to support you with his arms.

“If I shouldn't, do you think I’d be up?”

“Yes.”

He saw you turn away from his preoccupied gaze holding you laugh. You not admitting that he was right seemed to continue a common situation. That Loki helped you to get to a chair in the room and you sat down looking at him with a lipped smile. The one that was watching couldn’t take his eyes off you even if the room started burning.

“What?” He heard himself asking you on the screen, frowning in concern.

“I’m just happy we found our way back to each other.” You said with something that looked a lot like love in your eyes.

“I’m really happy about that, too, my love.”

“And i’s cute seeing you worried about nothing.”

“You got stabbed. How does that fit in the ‘nothing’ category?”

“I survived till now, it's not some living dead sword that is going to kill me.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And that’s why you love me...” You grinned at him. Loki rolled his eyes, but he smiled while looking at you kissing his knuckles intertwined with yours.

“Not just because of that”, he muttered before leaning in and kissing you softly.

The scene speeded up again until it stopped at a different scenario. A more chaotic one. Loki could see fire in the back and a hopeless look in his face, like he was powerless towards that situation and he didn't like it. The Loki on the screen drew out a knife, branding it against the enemy but was stopped with what seemed to be the space stone.

“Undying?” Thanos mocked, picking Loki up by his neck. “You should choose your words more carefully.”

A knife was thrown in Thanos' direction from behind, but he stopped that too easily with the power of the two stones he had. Asgardian gods with their knives and hammers never seem to learn. Soon one of his children got hold of you too. Loki could see a nasty bruise in your forehead and blood dripping on your cheek. You looked terrified at him, afraid of what was going to happen to the love of your life.

“I can see that you gods never learn when to stop,” Thanos said in that calm and irritating voice of his. He caught the knife with his free hand while holding Loki by his neck with the other.

“Please, don’t do this!” That was the only thing you thought of screaming until a hand muffled your voice. The cries not as loud as they were supposed to be.

Loki, you and Thor knew that there was nothing to be done. The three norse gods were as helpless as common humans. The mischief god that was sitting in that empty room couldn’t take his eyes off your crying expression, the way you didn’t want to lose him.

“You… will never be… a god.” Those words said with so much effort because the grip on his neck were his last ones, he was sure.

Instead of continuing with his choking Thanos used the knife to kill Loki. Your knife. The weapon that was supposed to save his life was the same that took him from you. There was too much blood so you already knew there was no way when you managed to get to him after Thanos escaped.

“No, don’t you dare to close your eyes!” You said in a warning voice that was breaking, but you still tried to remain strong. “We can still…”

“My love, look at me. Please.” He begged in a weak voice and you did it. His eyes were closing but he needed to say one last thing. “I love you.”

Those were his last words. Loki sat there, seeing you crying hard and Thor coming to your side also with tears filling his eyes.

End of the file.

Loki couldn’t process what he had just seen. A future where he causes pain, suffering and yet is loved by his brother, his father. Loved by you, the person who left him to find yourself but somehow came back to him.

“Glorious purpose” Loki mocked. You heartbroken look stamped on his mind and the certainty that he wouldn’t even be allowed to live that with you.

That was just damn cruel timing for him to run away from the so called "Sacred Timeline". Now he knew that the possibilities of going back and experiencing even a little of happiness were minimal.

#loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #mcu #loki oneshot #loki odinson #loki layfeyson imagine #loki series imagine #mcu loki #loki odinson imagine #avengers imagine #imagines #one shot #loki x female reader

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marvelsimp97 · 2 years ago

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Behind the Mask (Loki x Reader) Chapter Nine - Finale - Not Everything Can Be Ours

Summary: Every generation of the descendants of the Asgardian royal family needs to choose their significant other during a tradition. During the event princesses and noble ladies are invited to the Asgardian palace and so are you as the crown princess of Vanaheim. However you wish to court the younger prince, the dark prince, the Trickster, prince Loki. How will that end for you? And for him?

Word count: 6775

The Asgardian capital shined in the rising sun's bright yellow light as the small group approached the BiFrost. The group had six strong warriors who had a hint of magic in them, Thor galloping on the front, Loki and you behind him and the warriors behind you. They were this few because it wasn't usual to possess magic or some sensitivity for seidr and so Frigga had only them when you first were introduced to them. You felt excited, fearless and satisfied. Somewhere inside you there was a normal fear of death but you always reminded yourself that Loki would always come to your help and your plan was to infiltrate the palace quietly and taking down Iwenta and Gorm while the moon was up at Vanaheim.

You gripped tightly onto the reins of your horse as you faced forward while crossing the streets. People were still in their beds so it was easy to gallop through the capital with your group. You turned to look up at Loki if you would to fall in the battle. His face was bathing in the warm sunlight as he was looking to the front, making his blue-green eyes shine with pride and excitement, his thin, pink lips pulling into a smile which told you how excited he was. His golden helmet with the long horns shined brightly and his black and green leather and metal armor showed just how noble he was. Power was surrounding him and was emitting off of him. Loki turned to you feeling your gaze on his form and his eyes widened for some reason.

'What is wrong?' you asked confused.

'The way you... looked at me, love...' Loki mumbled as he turned his face from you yet you could see a light hue of pink on his cheeks. The last words were whispered and you had to pay attention to hear them. 'No one ever looked at me with such... love...'

'I do love you, Loki.' you let go of the reins with one hand and placed it on his.

'As I, you.' smiled back at you the Trickster and squeezed your hand. Soon you were at the BiFrost waiting for Heimdall to open the portal. Your horses were neighing as the Gatekeeper slid his sword into it's place and turned it. Bright light blinded you for a second before Thor started forward into the swirling rainbow in front of you. You tried to hide your anxiety but you knew Loki knew about it.

Your horse's hooves touched dry grass when you arrived to Vanaheim. You looked around the familiar part of the forest east-west from the capital city of Vanaheim. It was still nighttime, cold breeze hit your skin on your face and hands, where the armor wasn't shielding your body. Loki was still next to you on his horse and frowned, excitement and worry on his handsome face. Thor turned to you and asked you to lead the way to the palace so you took the lead and led your group through the forest towards the capital.

It was morning when you reached the end of the forest and arrived to a small village. Loki cast a spell on you all so the villagers wouldn't recognize you. They would forget who you are the moment they would spot you and realize it. Your group reached the gate of the small village when the sun had risen enough and the guards of the village opened the two winged large gate.

'Who are you?!' cried out one of them when you were close enough on your horses.

'We are guards escorting Lady Shavaris back to the capital. Her father is one of the council members in the palace.' replied Thor the practiced lines. You smiled down the guards with your most charming and enticing smile making both of them widen their eyes, their cheeks blushing lightly and stepping out of your way immediately. You noticed Loki shooting them death glares as he passed the poor souls. It filled you with warmth. He was jealous even of those who looked at you. You were important to him and it made your heart leap in your chest.

Soon your group decided to settle down in an inn for today. You weren't rushing because it would've rouse suspicion in someone if there was anyone spying around for the "king and queen". You knew there was a possibility that your aunt and uncle sent spies out on the lands of Vanaheim but they were too comfortable and not smart enough to do that. Loki and Thor decided to share a room with you so they could protect you if something would happen. After you got your rooms you decided to take a walk amongst your people while they couldn't see who you were truly. Of course Loki was escorting you even if you protested first.

'Why are you doing this?' asked Loki quietly as you walked.

'I always done this before I arrived to Asgard. This is a way I can check on my people... if they suffer from anything. I am going to take over the throne and I am responsible for their lives. This is the least I can do.' you replied not looking up at him as you observed the villagers. They seemed to be weak and sickly... starving. You sighed. You had to make the fields abundant again and the nature healthy again.

'I believe that you are concerned about them but we are here for a serious reason now. You cannot get hurt, (Name). What if there are spies in allies or shadows everywhere?' asked Loki again.

'My aunt and uncle at least will know I am coming for them.' you stopped turning to your lover with a determined expression and fury burning in your (e/c) orbs like raging fire. Your expression must have shifted into the one you used all the time before you met Loki. The cold and counting mask which hardened your beautiful face.

'You know well enough that if you kill another living you will-'

'But you can do me the favor of ending their lives, you are not Vanir.' you replied continuing your walk on the market street you were walking down. Suddenly Loki grabbed your upper arm stopping you and turning you back to him. His expression was hard and lecturing like you were a reckless, stupid little kid.

'Do you not think your people will see a murderer if they learn to know that you killed your aunt and uncle or asked someone to kill them? Do not let your anger take over your ration. Let the All-Father decide their fate.' hissed Loki.

Your eyes widened and it was like someone hit you hard in the head. Suddenly the red rage melted from your vision and now you could see clear now. You couldn't say anything and you just let your arm fall limply to your side when he let go of you.

'I am sorry... I know how hard it is to hold back your anger when it is so personal... but your people need you and you can only be a rightful ruler if you do not let your anger get the better of you' pulled you into an embrace Loki resting his chin on the top of your head. You grabbed onto his arm at your neck and tried to blink back your tears. You realized that he was right. You couldn't let you sink to their level and lose yourself in the process, all of what you fought for to bring back the memory of your parents.

'You see? They can even take my sanity from me...' you choked out the pain spreading in your chest. But today you weren't alone. You had Loki by your side and didn't let you drown in pain. He was your rock and you were thankful for that.

Soon you were walking down the market place smiling and giggling like a newlywed couple making the people smile warm smiles at the two of you. The elder thought back to their youth with their significant other and others remembering their own affairs. You made Loki try out different fruits he never saw before on Asgard, well, because they were Vanir specialties. You returned to the inn late in the afternoon but none of the members of your group mentioned it. You ate dinner before went back to your room you shared with Loki and Thor. Sleep easily engulfed you that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Familiar arms were wrapped around you and were pulling you tightly into a firm chest making you smile into the soft fabric separating your cheek from his skin. You could hear his heartbeat as you pressed your face into him and circled your arms around his waist. You wished you could stay like that for another few hours but you knew you would have to sit on your horse's back soon.

'Good morning, love.' half-whispered into your ear Loki and you mumbled your answer making him chuckle lowly.

'Do we really have to get up?' you groan as you blink sleep out of your eyes and slowly sit up sighing.

'I would love to stay in bed with you under me, but we came here for a reason.' winked at you Loki as he stood up and put his boots on. 'We will have plenty of time later for that.'

You tried to not seem sad so you turned away and pulled on your boots while you reorganized your thoughts and your expression. You felt bad somewhere for your aunt and uncle, because there was a finality in the words you all spoke when the topic was your mission. It was like they were already dead or imprisoned and you felt like a necrophagous. That was the only expression you could find for it, for what you were going to do.

You and Loki went downstairs and sat down by the table Thor and the other members of the group were sitting, each of them with a big bowl of meal in front of them and a jug of ale next to it. They seemed merry and weren't dwelling on the goal of your mission. They were soldiers and they thought your aunt and uncle to be evil and unworthy of the Vanir throne. They were right. You were right, yet your heart felt regret or guilt or something. You couldn't place it. You felt like you were doing something wrong when reason told you that it was the right thing to do. They killed your parents so they could sit on the throne instead of them and made your life into a living Hel. They were unworthy of everything they had. But you still felt dirty. You hated them and you didn't know why you felt this way when you wanted to kill them on your own yesterday. You decided to turn back to that rage and bloodlust so you won't think about this strange feeling inside your chest.

During breakfast both princes noticed your silence but decided to leave you alone at least for now. They both knew you were going through this. They experienced it a long time ago, when they first stepped onto battlefield. You were all on your horses' backs when you started to engage in conversation again. Loki still watched you and had a worried shine in his eyes however his expression never let anyone notice how worried he was inside. You got to know the only woman in the group, Ivë. She had bright red and curly locks tied into a tight braid on her back, her cheeks were covered in freckles. She had straight lined eyebrows with grass green eyes and fleshy lips with a pointy chin. Her body was way smaller than the men around her, but it was to her advantage. Two other men from the group, Ricard and Geronimus (both came from Niflheim) told you legendary tales of how she defeated different kind of threats. Of course Ivë slapped their arms and told you these tales weren't as heroic and they were exaggerating but their antics made you laugh. They seemed to be good friends and you were glad to get to know new people.

It was nighttime again when you were halfway on the way to the capital. Thor decided to settle down for the night not far from the road in the forest and so you packed your things down made campfire while kept telling stories over dinner. When you were finished with your meals everyone went to sleep. You were one of the last ones who stayed up just like Loki who sat on your right side watching the fire cracking.

'Something bothers you.' stated your lover kissing your temple. 'Come walk with me.'

You stood up after him and left the camp walking further into the forest. Your hand in his you followed him in the darkness, grass brushing your boots and dry twigs breaking under them as you walked. You knew this would come sooner or later and looking at the fact that you were half a day from the palace you thought this was closer to later. You wanted to tell him that you were alright but you weren't and you knew he could see it in your eyes and the way you carried yourself. Gentle moonlight hit your face suddenly and when you looked up your breath hitched and your eyes widened. It was beautiful. In front of you was a small clearing before a loud river ran along to the left side. On the right side there was a wide waterfall dropping down from high above the mountain next to you. The moonlight shone brightly on the water making it look like liquid silver. Amongst the grass there were thousands of pale blue flowers with white dangling stamens.

'How did you find this?' you asked quietly but Loki could hear you clearly.

'There is a portal behind that waterfall and I wandered around here quiet often when I was just a child. It was quiet... peaceful.' he answered smiling down at you before pulling you towards the waterfall. There was a thin line of stones in the water below leading to the side of the waterfall where you could step into the cave behind it. Loki went first and helped you into the cave. Surprisingly there was silence when you were inside the cave. There were large stones but nothing more. You half expected to see a large bed or at least a comfy couch placed inside and you had to suppress the giggle at that thought.

'Now that no one can hear us, you can tell me what is wrong.' cupped your neck Loki with one hand while with the other he grabbed your hand. You looked down at the golden adornment on his chest plate before shutting your eyes with a sigh.

'I... I feel bad for doing this.' you motioned in the air as you opened your eyes.

'For doing what is right?' he furrowed his eyebrows.

'I know it is what they deserve, Hel I even wish I could kill them myself but... I have never killed anyone, Loki. It is too big of a responsibility to decide of another's life.' you start to pace. 'I think that this is right... but I feel... dirty doing this. I feel bad about this, like I am betraying someone, like I am not worthy of the legacy of my parents because how I get to the throne. It is how I will take over the throne. I will feel... unworthy of it because of these schemes and plans.'

'Hush' suddenly he is in front of you and grabbing the sides of your head so you are looking him in the eyes with wide, panicked eyes. 'I know how that feels. I cannot say I am not seeing my long dead enemies' faces occasionally but when I killed them under the All-Father's command it was for justice, (Name). If I speared their lives lots of other lives would have been lost. I know it is hard and I am not telling you it will ever be easier... but you need to focus on the people who are now suffering because of them. You saw their faces at that village. They are starving and sickly because your aunt and uncle are unworthy of the Vanir throne. Do you want these innocent people to starve to death? To suffer when you can stop this? Their lives do not worth thousands of other lives. I know I am right about this and I know you know this too.'

You nodded with tears in your eyes. He was right. You were doing this for those innocent souls who were ruled over. You were their light of hope and you wanted to help them. New determination and fire started burning in your eyes and heart. You will save them and rule over them just like your parents did: with justice and care.

'You are so... intelligent...' you whispered with a smile on your lips as you wiped the tears away from your eyes before looking back up at your fiancée. Loki broke into a smirk before kissing you passionately.

'And you are just as intelligent, witty, funny, beautiful and kindhearted as your mother and father was' he replied back before kissing you again more hungry this time. You reached up and pulled at the back of his head with your right hand while pressing down on his chest with your other hand. His arms snaked around your waist pulling you close as he left your lips hanging apart and started pressing soft and tender kisses along your jawline and down to your collarbone leaving a trail on your neck. You moaned when he bit down on your collarbone and you knew he wanted more tonight. More of you. And you wanted more of him also. All of him.

You slid your hands under the metal plates on his chest and slowly undid the buckles which held every piece of his armor in place. When you clicked open a buckle his lush green cape suddenly dropped to the floor. He reached for the rest of it thinking you were too slow but you decided to clasp open your own armor so you would get rid of them faster. You were wearing your undershirt still when he was only in his khaki pants. Loki chuckled darkly at how confused you were by the ties securing every piece of fabric to your body so he grabbed your hands and pulled them away before pulling the right strings making the linen shirt fall to the floor behind you as he slid the sleeves down your arms pressing his chest into yours. You sighed delighted at the feel of his slightly cold skin. Loki pressed his lips to yours again as he grabbed your leather pants and unbuttoned it all the while he broke the kiss and started exploring your exposed neck again.

When your pants were pooling around your ankles on the floor Loki suddenly lifted you up on his waist and started walking farther into the cave. Your eyes widened when you landed on the softest fabric you ever touched but your attention quickly turned back to Loki who crawled over you and pulled you into a kiss. You smiled into the kiss when you felt his attention pressing against your thigh. You wanted this just as much as he did and you weren't afraid anymore. You had doubts in the past whether you would be a good partner or would ruin everything because of your lack of experience but not anymore. Your prince quickly threw his leather pants in whatever direction and knelt between your bare legs.

'Beautiful...' he breathed looking over your exposed flesh with the mix of love and lust. You blushed deeply as he leaned over you again and started kissing down your neck while his large hand found your left breast squeezing gently and playing with your nipple making you squirm and gasp into his mouth. You buried your fingers in his raven locks as you pulled him closer to feel more and more of him. His other hand slowly made its way down to your lower abdomen to your womanhood. His skillful fingers slowly slid inside of you parting your lower lips. You moaned in delight at the feeling but his teeth suddenly grazed your right nipple leaving you breathless for a second.

Loki curled a finger inside you and continued to tease your entrance until you were writhing, squirming, gasping and moaning under him slowly closing to your release. So when his long fingers pulled out you whined pathetically making him chuckle.

'So desperate, love?' his voice was so low and it rumbled through his chest sending vibrations through your torso to as you were pressed against him.

'I-I... need you...' you whined rolling your hips into his earning a gasp from him making you smirk. If he wanted to tease you will play along. Loki lifted your legs onto his waist so he had a better access to your entrance as he guided himself to your womanhood. He looked up at you asking for permission but at that state you were only able to nod. You felt his cock slowly slid inside and spread your inner walls but he reached a point which sent a shockwave of pain throughout your body. It lasted however only a second and your vision focused back on his worried expression. 'I am... okay...' you breathed clinging to him.

Loki started moving hesitantly but after a few thrusts you adjusted to his size and pleasure took pain's place. He leaned back down and kissed you hungrily then moved onto your jawline, to the side of your neck and slowly reached your collar bone. His thrusts came faster and you knew both of your climaxes were building slowly but surely. You grasped at whatever part you could reach and caress or trail your lips along his skin. You wanted him and he wanted you. You never imagined that making love would feel anything like this. You always thought you would marry someone who would never love you and who you would never love but would have to lay with them. But this was... beyond every imagination you ever had. Your heart pounded so hard and fast against your ribcage while your pulse was just as quick all over your body and your head was spinning. This was the dance of the stars, flying high above the ground recklessly nothing stopping you.

'I love you...' you whispered lovingly gazing into his blue eyes as he moved both of you into your orgasms.

'I love you too...' Loki panted as his pace picked up and his thrusts became raged.

'Ah! I... I am almost...' you cried out.

'Cum for me, love' buried his face Loki in the crook of your neck biting down on your soft flesh. That was what brought you to the edge, your heart skipping a beat and everything going white. You felt Loki cum inside you his seed filling you up as he finished with a few last thrusts ridding off his orgasm. He collapsed on the bed next to you immediately pulling you tightly against his chest and you buried your face in his heaving chest.

You closed your eyes and cuddled up into him tangling your legs with his and just listening to his heartbeat and slowing breaths. This waited for you in the future. Just being with Loki, fully exposed and the way he looked down at you, adoring every inch of you, thinking you beautiful and perfect... it was a gift... he was a gift and you never wanted to let go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up your back against Loki's chest both of you curled up in the sheets, his right arm around your waist and his breath hitting the back of your neck. You smiled contently as you turned around to find him staring back at you.

'Good morning' he pressed a kiss to your lips.

'Good morning' you replied looking up at him lovingly.

'We should get back to the others' he sighed and stroke your cheek.

'Yeah...' you sighed and pressed your lips to his again before you sat up in bed and looked around. 'How did you teleport a bed into this cave?'

'I left it here a long time ago in case I would need it here' shrugged the prince. 'And I just did need it.'

You blushed deeply but slapped his arm making him chuckle deeply. You wanted to tackle him back into the bed but you knew you had a mission and your group and Thor was waiting for you out there so you slid out of bed and pulled on your clothes. When you reached the camp you were relieved to see that they were barely awake yet only Thor sat at the fire and prepared some breakfast. You smiled at him and greeted him getting a beaming smile from him. You tried to hide your blush noticing the knowing glance he shot at his brother but said nothing.

After a quick breakfast you got back on horseback and took off towards the Vanir palace in the capital. As you rode along the path memories flashed into your mind reminding you of the time you departed for Asgard. That time you wanted your revenge thinking you were a heartless, ruthless monster and you welcomed it with open arms... but now... you felt bad about attacking your aunt and uncle. It was all wrong yet if you didn't do anything your people would die and you didn't want to cause thousands of innocent people to die because of a decision you couldn't make. You furrowed your eyebrows as you steeled your heart and decided to go through the plan no matter what. You had to be strong for your people and for your parents who didn't deserve to be murdered. The sun was almost at the peak of the sky when you reached the capital's front gates. After a short explaining the guards led you in and a breath left your lungs you didn't know you were holding back. You left the horses at an inn near the palace before you led your group to a secret door in an ally right next to the palace's walls. The secret passageways led through the outer walls of the palace separating it from the city's streets and right to the throne room and the royal bedroom and study. You knew from heart the routine of the king and queen making it easier for you to decide where to go. The passageway crossed the passage the servants used a few times before you could reach the throne room. The stone walls were moisture-y and were covered by moss in patches, the ground under your feet were muddy and it made your boots get stuck in it a few times before it let go with a squelch. You ran straight forward on the dark corridor when you heard whispers from a corner. You suddenly stopped in the shadow covering you from the light which came from the servant passages and stretched your left arm out to stop the others behind you. Right after they all stopped the two servants passed the crossing with quiet giggles as they were talking about some noble man. When they were far enough you let your arm down but waited too heartbeat before you took off running again.

Your heart was beating in your throat as you got closer and closer to the study of the royal chambers. You turned right then right again before you stopped in front of a wooden door but didn't move. You closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing and heartbeat. A hand clasped your shoulder turning you to the owner who was Thor.

'We need to do this, (Name). Your people need us to do this' looked down on you the blonde prince with a slight nod and serious expression. You nodded before you pressed your ear to the door and heard the voices you despised so much.

'The All-Father informed me that (Name) will marry the second prince in a week. That is wonderful news, my love! Imagine! She will suffer that horrible man's rage! Finally she is out of Vanaheim's sight and she cannot claim the throne as hers!' came Gorm's deep voice. Your hands balled into fists as you listen to them talk and you wanted to throttle them with your own two hands. Loki didn't deserve to be spoken about like that, he was thousand times better than those two ever could be.

'Do you not think it was too easy? I bet they planned out something. That snake of a man is smart and sees an opportunity in her. He wants a throne and she could give it to him if they get rid of us.' came the answer from your aunt and you had enough. You turned back to Thor and Loki and nodded to them to attack. You pushed open the door which was hidden behind the bookshelves and the nine of you appeared in the study.

'Yes, I did plan out something for you!' you spoke up as you looked into Iwenta and Gorm's surprised and shocked faces. Loki closed the door with magic so when Iwenta cried out for the guards those couldn't enter no matter how they tried. 'You killed my parents who were good to their people so you could sit on the throne! You killed you own brother!' you pointed at Iwenta who paled in fear.

'You thought the All-Father not knew about your treacherous acts?! Oh, he planned for hundreds of years because you killed good friends and allies of Asgard. How foolish did you think Odin would be?' boomed Thor angrily. He remembered your parents from when he was just a small boy. He remembered how warm your parents' smiles were and how good they were. 'We are here to bring you to court and justice. I, Thor, son of Odin, God of Thunder am arresting you for killing the former king and queen of Vanaheim. I will have to use force if you will not come willingly.'

'How can you prove that we were the ones who killed Nadon and Eana?!' cried out your aunt angrily. You didn't know why she hated her brother so much to kill him. The hatred burning in her eyes made you flinch but you didn't move from your spot. Loki placed his hand on the small of your back and you felt better immediately.

'Heimdall, the gate keeper can see everything in the Nine Realms and farther' replied Thor. Iwenta flinched and you saw panic flash across her face but it was short lived as she walked to her husband. She looked up at Gorm who only nodded as he caressed her cheek with his hand. You didn't know what was going on until it was too late. She grabbed a blade from her dress somewhere just like Gorm from his over coat and both of them plunged the blades in each other's chests. You cried out in protest but you were too late. Iwenta and Gorm slid to the floor lifeless like ragdolls. You stared at their dead bodies not knowing what to do. It was over just like that. All the years you had to suffer because of them ended in a second. You were furious because you didn't get your revenge. They took it from you.

In your fury you tried to jump to their corpses but Loki grabbed both of your upper arms and held you back with incredible force. You cried out in pain and rage as you tried to break yourself away from Loki's grasp, tears rolling down your face. When you couldn't get out of your lover's grasp you let him turn you around and pull you into a tight embrace. Your fingers curled around the fabric of his cape on his sides as you let out another yell muffled by Loki's chest.

'Ssshhh, love... it is over now' he patted your head and whispered into your hair.

'They took my revenge! They deserved the worst for what they have done! I wish they are now burning in Hel for everything!' you yelled angrily. You cried and cried until your body was numb and your head felt dizzy. You felt miserable and empty as Loki lifted you into his arms bridal style and started walking somewhere. You just stared forward not caring what was happening around you before your eyes closed and unconsciousness took you away from all of this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up in a soft bed you sat up rapidly and looked around. It was your old room and someone was sitting in the chair next to the balcony door. You blinked a few times before you realized who it was and your lips curled up in a happy smile.

'Hi' you croaked out tiredly.

'Feeling better?' stood up Loki and walked to you. He sat down on the side of the bed and cupped your face in his large hands. You nodded but both of you knew it wasn't true.

'The others?' you asked looking deep into his blue eyes.

'They went back to Asgard with the captured prince Adon' replied Loki. Adon was the son of Iwenta and Gorm. He had short white blonde hair and icy blue eyes with long features and a lean body. He was weak physically but a cruel person. Everytime you met him on the corridors or at dinner he whispered mean things into your ears and when he had the opportunity he slapped you across the face just like his mother did. You didn't blame him, his parents showed him how to treat people. 'What do you want to do, my queen?'

Your eyes widened at the realization. You were now queen of Vanaheim, the throne was yours with all of the responsibility on your shoulders also. Loki chuckled and pulled you to him to kiss your forehead.

'Do not make that face, love' smiled the Trickster. 'You do not have to do anything today. But you should greet your people soon.'

'What?' you asked confused.

'They are standing under the balcony of the ball room' he replied with a smirk and you were out of your bed instantly grabbing a dress out of your closet and pulling it on quickly. A maid rushed to you and helped you lace the dress and secure it on your waist before you took off to the ball room Loki following you with an amused smirk playing on his thin lips. When you reached the large two winged door of the ball room you came to a halt and tried to find something out you could tell your people. You didn't have a speech with you and your brain just processed that you were the queen now. Loki caught up to you and placed a hand on your shoulder turning you to him. He leaned down and kissed you passionately and lovingly and everything settled into place. When he let you go you smiled up at him and grabbed his hand pulling him with you into the ball room. Servants prepared long and large tables for a feast and they jumped in surprise when you pushed the doors open and strode in. They stopped what they were doing and bowed to the two of you as you passed them. You reached the balcony doors and opened them without hesitation. Applause and happy cheers erupted from below making your heart swell with happiness.

'Long live the queen! Long live queen (Name)!' yelled the crowd and when Loki stepped up next to you another wave of cheers and applause erupted and you knew how proud he was. Finally he was accepted and you turned to him pulling him into a kiss making the crowd cheer again. It was everything you ever wished for. You were happy and you never wanted this to end.

Fifty years later~

It was a bright sunny day on Vanaheim, birds were chirping and light, warm breeze was blowing through the woods, streets of the capital and the garden of the Vanir palace. Vanaheim was blooming with life again, the people were happy and healthy. The sky above was a bright blue and white clouds were swimming lazily over it.

You were sitting in the pagoda placed in the back garden with a book on your lap reading silently when you noticed the bush shake behind you. Your ears perked up and you turned back but the bush stopped shaking. Your lips curled up in a mischievous smirk but you turned back to your book. The bush next to the entrance of the pagoda shivered and you had to stifle a laugh with your hand. You knew what it was and you had to fight the urge to laugh. You pretended to read and not notice the two small figure crawl closer to you before they jumped up and right on you with an "Aaaaaah!"

You slid down on the ground of the pagoda as they landed on you and pulled you with them making you yelp and laugh hard. Azther, your elder son with raven hair and (e/c) eyes was clinging to you with his tiny arms at your neck while Eldir, your younger son with (h/c) and blue eyes was pressing into your right side still crying out in the cutest battle-cry you ever heard.

'I give up, I give up!' you chuckled and so your sons let go of you with bright, goofy grins on their faces. 'But why did you attack me in the first place?'

'You are the big, scary sea monster of the garden pond, mommy!' explained Azther his hands on his hips as he posed in a victorious way making you laugh.

'Oh, and what have I done as a monster to get attacked?' you asked poking both of them in the belly making them giggle.

'You ate all of the fish in the pond! And now the pond is lifeless!' replied Eldir.

'But you forgot one thing, brave warriors of Vanaheim!' you said.

'What?' asked your sons at the same time with surprised expressions.

'Shackle me!' and you attacked them with your fingers tickling them earning happy laughs from your sons. As you tickled the two little boys a shadow casted over the three of you. You looked up and smiled up at your husband. Loki wore his formal attire so he was on a break from a conference or would go to one soon. He was still the handsome prince you fell in love except now he was a king. Your king. And in his arms was a babbling little girl with raven black hair and bright blue eyes just like her father's. Azther and Eldir stopped laughing when they heard their little sister and looked up with bright smiles at their father.

'Father!' they cried out and so Loki slowly, cautiously knelt down with Yla so the small princes could get closer to her. Eldir extended his index finger towards Yla who caught it with a tight grip not letting go and smiled at him.

'I have heard Lord Tomes grind his teeth because of you, troublemakers' said Loki making the boys faces go place.

'Oh no!' gasped Azther and both of them took off towards the palace.

'What have they done this time?' you asked shaking your head as you stood up and took Yla from Loki's arms. Your little daughter giggled and grabbed onto a loose strand of hair on your shoulder.

'Nothing, just made sure that they are taking their lessons' he replied as he looked after the running young princes.

'Loki!' you laughed joyous. 'They took after you, I can see that.'

'Not everything but a lot' winked at you your husband and kissed you as he pulled you closer with his arm around your waist. 'I bet our daughter will be the biggest trickster in the family, however.'

'So you will not have anything to fear when she will have suitors in the future' you leaned your head on his shoulder watching your baby girl close her eyes and drift off to sleep.

'Her suitors will be the ones to be afraid' chuckled Loki.

End~

#romance #loki god of mischief #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #mcu loki #loki x you #thor #frigga #odin #lovestory #romantic

8 notes · View notes

sunflowersteves · 4 years ago

Text

alive and well || b.f.

summary || whoever was in the familiar green armor before you was about to feel your wrath for stealing what wasn’t theirs.

author’s note || this is my first boba fic so pls go easy. it was also way longer than i intended and very sad but i hope you all enjoy!

warnings || angst, sadness, fluff, soft!boba

masterlist

You never thought you would be back in the place you dread most. You hated it—your body filled with pure contempt as your feet trudged across the hot sands. Jabba’s Palace looked almost exactly the same as you remembered it. The red rusty metal gleamed against the blazing suns of Tatooine.

You could feel the bounty hunter’s eyes behind you, making sure to escort you into the large building. Everything was dark, with no light or windows to pave the way in front of you. The bounty hunter pushed you forward, and you let out a groan, almost falling onto the ground. Despite knowing that they can’t see you, you still send them a glare.

The aura took no mercy on everyone around it; cruelty and greed were highly regarded above all else. There was always someone on top, someone that ruled over others. Someone always had control over the forsaken land and its people.

And that was currently Bib Fortuna.

After that day, you wanted absolutely nothing to do with that place. Bib tried to convince you otherwise, but you sneered at him and spoke in a venomous tone.

“There will never be a day when I’ll want to come back to this wretched place.”

So having one of his lackeys come and ask for your presence had confused you. He was aware of what would happen if you came back, of what would happen to him if you came back. You blamed all of them for what had happened on that day, and you would make them pay.

The bounty hunter pushed you slightly for what felt like the hundredth time, hinting for you to get a move on. You want to squeeze your eyes shut at the familiar stairwell, bile rising in your throat. You thought of him and those brown eyes staring back at you. You thought of his lips and how they felt against your cheeks. You thought of his skin and how it felt flushed against yours, the heat radiating off onto you. You thought about his hand clinging to yours, feet dangling in front of the Sarlacc pit. You thought about those soft words that poured through the modulator of the helmet.

“It’s okay, little one. It’ll be okay. Let go.”

Your boots touch the hard ground of the cantina area, the music loud with dancers floating on tables and customers chugging Spotchka. Your eyes trailed from table to table to watch everyone with a sneer.

You knew you shouldn’t have come back to this place, a wave of disgust washes over you. Your eyes follow to the center of the room, right where the throne is. You expected Bib Fortuna to be sitting there with a smug expression while he whipped one of his slaves. You expected Bib Fortuna to want something from you, to exploit your services for his own gain.

But what you weren't expecting was to see him. No, his armor. There was no possible way that that was him. You had watched him die. You had watched him fall into the depths of the Sarlacc pit, the tears stinging your eyes as he let go.

So who the fuck is this?

The newly painted armor shined against the dim lights; it looked brand new. It didn’t have the chipped paint that you remember or the small bits of rust packed on the side. The visor was locked in your direction; whoever was underneath your riduur’s helmet was staring at you.

Before you could even really think, you pointed a blaster straight at the helmet. The whole room becomes dead with silence, anticipation leaking from the walls. The amount of respect held for the thief before you had surprised you quite a bit. Bib Fortuna only had Jabba’s reign that kept him at the top. So whoever this being was, they were highly regarded and feared by others around the cantina.

The mercenary next to them immediately reacted back with a blaster now pointed directly at your head. But it didn’t phase you. You held your ground and spoke with pure venom against your voice, “Take it off.”

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t look at the mercenary that spoke. Your eyes set right on the black visor. Honestly, you straight up ignored her, and the blaster pointed at you. You didn’t care, not when someone was wearing his armor.

“That armor doesn’t fucking belong to you. Take it off.”

“That armor does belong to him.”

You wanted to give her an exasperated look. You know who the armor belongs to, and it wasn’t them. There was no possible way that it was theirs. “No, It doesn’t. He probably found it somewhere. Kriffing—take it off.”

She smirked. “Or what?”

Your eyes finally flick over towards the mercenary with your hardened gaze never wavering. You spoke your next words carefully, making sure that every syllable was articulated. You wanted everyone in Jabba’s Palace to know just exactly who you were.

“I peel it off his dead body.”

Her fingers pressed against the trigger, you mentally prepared yourself for the mistake you were making. The entire cantina was full of people who would shoot you in a split second. She was almost about to shoot when a booming voice rang against the walls.

“Everyone out!”

You almost had to double-take at the sound of that voice. You knew that voice. You knew that voice better than your own. You could spot the click of his tongue and the shake of his vocal cords. Your gun only lowered slightly as you try and decipher whether or not your ears were playing tricks on you.

It took some convincing for the mercenary to leave, but everyone filed out as quickly as possible. The helmet, however, stayed right on you. He never wavered or faltered as everyone rushed out of the room. Your hand reacted quickly at the movement of his hands; the blaster pointed at his head again. He lifted his hands before slowly reaching his helmet. Once he saw that you weren’t going to shoot him, he started to lift his helmet. The hissing sound lifted into your ears as he slowly showed his face and the scene before you made your heart stop.

It was him.

He was alive. He even looked well.

Your riduur was sitting right in front of you on a fucking throne. He was much different, that much you saw. There were new scars that were scattered on his face, and he didn’t have the fluffy black hair you once remembered. There were small wrinkles that deepened his smile lines, and his eyes had a sense of void in them.

Before, they were lively and spirited. Before, they shined bright against many suns and glowed in the depths of moons. But now, they seemed duller, more broken.

You lowered your gun ever so slowly. Was it really him? Was the love of your life really standing before you? You didn’t know how many moments had passed that had been spared from the time you had been staring at him. You even didn’t know how long it had been since you started crying, the tears soaking your cheeks and dripping down your chin.

“Boba, is—is that really you?”

The soft pillows of your voice struck his ears, and he could’ve sworn it was the most beautiful sound he had heard in quite some time. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as he thought about the days, weeks, and years you went through, knowing he didn’t make it on that day. But, you were here. His little one was right in front of him, flesh and blood.

“It’s really me, little one. I’m here. I’m alive.”

You were closer to him now, having taken a few steps onto the throne. A part of you wanted to reach out and touch his face, to hold him and never let go. However, the other part didn’t want to pressure him. What you had was in the past, far away from the surface of what once was.

Before you could even make a decision, Boba grabbed you so desperately into his lap. The cool metal your body felt made you ache, pure fire burning through your body as he quickly took off his gloves. He needed to feel you. He needed to feel the soft crevasses of your skin, the rough calluses that grew beneath you, the edges and rounds of each and every part of your body.

Your hands immediately went to rest on his cheeks, a gasp leaving his lips at the sensation. You didn’t waste any more seconds and pressed your lips against his, mouths colliding and mushing against one another. His hands roamed your body in desperation, his fingertips tingling at the familiar feel of your silky skin.

In between each kiss, you both sputtered out sweet words, grabbing and twisting at every waking moment. “I missed you. I’ve never stopped missing you.” He let out a breath, “you were always on my mind, little one. There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you.”

You never thought that this moment would come to life—you had dreamed of it many times. You never thought you would ever see him again except for your memories. But he was here. He was right in front of you—kissing you, loving you. “I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. You are my alit, my one true love.”

“I love you, I love you, I love—” You cut him off with another kiss, begging for those lips to never leave yours. Your hands ran down his chest plate, the hard surface struck upon the pads of your fingers. Your lungs screamed at you for some type of relief, but you never wanted to give in.

“Never leave. Never leave me again. Never—”

“I’m never leaving. For as long as you want me, I’m yours.”

You shook your head slightly at yourself, “I should've looked for you. I should’ve gone there to save you. I should’ve held onto you tighter. I should’ve tried harder—”

He quickly grabbed your hands and held them tightly against his chest. His mouth pressed kisses against your cheeks and nose before diving back to your lips again.

“Cyare, there was nothing you could’ve done. I was dead. I was gone. By luck, I was saved, and I knew you’d come back to me. I always knew.”

Your cheeks were still wet from the buckets of tears that had poured out of your eyes. Your hands shook slightly from the pure shock of the moment. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was that you were home. You were with him, and that’s all you could ever ask for. Your riduur found his way back into your arms.

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