#chants: KING THOR KING THOR KING THOR

[kingwwend]

🕯️🕯️A Spell for Summoning Loki 🕯️🕯️

Chapter Seven of A Mad God's Prey

King's End Presents: "Six Months Earlier"

You had set out the candles as instructed in a perfect circle. The pine resin incense perfumed the air. You had turned all the lights off in your bedroom, and now the place looked otherworldly and strange, moving with the flickering light of the six green candles. Each carefully etched with the runes of the Nordic God you intended to invoke. You placed a large mirror in front of you , and gazed at the solomn dim lit reflection.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel silly. Like a fraud, like some stupid little girl playing at being a Witch. What were you even trying to do? It’s not like this summoning spell would work- and it certainly wasn’t going to magically poof Tom Hiddleston dressed up as Loki into your one-bedroom apartment. You shook your head feeling embarrassment bloom painfully in your chest. 

To say that you had become obsessed with Loki since the Marvel movies started coming out was an understatement. Your sketchbooks were filled with drawings of him. Trying to capture that wicked wild grin, tracing the design of the Asgardian garb of the different costumes. It was weird really, how much you fantasized about him. Probably an unhealthy amount since you’d read every fanfic you could get ahold of before bed. Picturing his face as you closed your eyes to fall to sleep. Imagining it was his long, elegant fingers slipping into you as you played with yourself. Worse was that this little “crush” had been going on for years. YEARS. It didn’t help that when you did go out on dates all your checkboxes were based on stupid little quirks that Loki had. But of course, of course, no guy could live up to your fantasy of the God of Mischief. The Supervillain of the Marvel Fandom, that misunderstood melancholic Prince. 

So, you supposed it was really just a matter of time before you fully slipped into insanity and would try summoning the Nordic God. Who’s to say the Norse God isn’t the same as the re-branded, brother of Thor from the Marvel series? You shook your head, feeling absolutely idiotic. But when you saw the Loki summoning spell across your Tumbler feed of course you read every line. Your heart skipping with the thought of; But what if? 

Besides the worst-case scenario is that it wouldn’t work. You already felt like an idiot, and you already bought the candles and carved the runes. They were already lit for hell’s sake. You were completely alone in your apartment- no one would know. Just you and that silly time that you tried summoning an ancient Norse God who you had a crush on for fuckin’ YEARS. But maybe this would be what finally broke the spell. Maybe lighting the candles, chanting the spell, and nothing happening would finally be the last straw. You’d take down the posters, throw out your green clothes, pack away the Marvel movies, and go out with a real man and not be thinking about Loki the whole fucking time. 

You took a deep breath in, looking at the spell you wrote on the paper in front of you. You’d written Loki’s runic name in a circle around it and drew the stupid horned helmet in gold ink. You cleared your throat, having already called to the four directions, the sky, and earth, and now the last thing to do was speak the words. You breathed in again, settling your nerves. Trying to calm your stupid racing heart that kept drumming the thought; But what if? But what if? But what if? 

“I Call to Thee my King, I call to thee my ancient God of the North, to the Trickster, the Patron of Lies & Clever things, I call to thee Loki,” you announce to the empty room. You say his name again, and again, and again. Thirteen times to be exact. There is nothing but quiet after- just the hum of your refrigerator from the other room. Then, something made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You didn’t hear anything, but you looked around the dark room anyway. The candlelight threw the shadows long against the walls, making the room suddenly feel cramped. Cramped with things you could not quite see. But besides that- there was nothing. Besides that heavy feeling, which settled around you like fog. 

You licked your lips, the logical part of your mind still assuring you that you were just freaking yourself out. That nothing, absolutely nothing was gonna happen. Because in this world- Magic wasn’t real. This is real life, there’s no such thing as Heros and Villians and there’s certainly no such thing as Gods reincarnated as hot superheroes. The tension in the air, made thicker by the burning pine resin, distracted you. The smell suddenly overwhelmed you and had almost made you forget the last step. You held the paper where you drew the spell, kissed it, then put it over the flame. Fire danced up the page, slowly eating at the parchment. When it started licking your fingertips you dropped it onto the aluminum foil you laid out in front of you. The flimsy metal reflecting the lights of the candles. You watched as the fire ate the rest of the paper- and could have sworn with that last flame before it disappeared shone green. You held your breath, eyes down at the ashes in the illuminated foil. Nothing. 

You weren’t sure how long you waited, but your heart was sinking with disappointment as each minute passed. Till finally, you sighed looking away from the ashes and feeling like a stupid fool. And that’s when all six candles went out. A startled scream escaped your lips and suddenly your heart was hammering in your chest. The window was closed, there were absolutely no drafts. The only light was coming from the crack of your bedroom door, and that was just from the street lamp out front. It was almost complete darkness, and you tried not to scream when you distinctly heard footsteps on the wood floor. Right next to you. 

“Not many witches are powerful enough to summon me,” you recognized his voice immediately. Your heart pounded impossibly faster. “Certainly not witches from this reality. Magic dried up centuries ago here,” he noted, and the footsteps were circling you. Right along the edge of the candles. “Yet here I am,” 

“Loki?” you asked breathlessly, the dark still keeping the figure from sight. Only the horrifying silhouette of a very tall man which you were barely able to see stood behind you in the mirror. You gulped.

“Were you expecting someone else?” he mocked. Suddenly, a green light filled the room. Your candles had re-lit themselves, the flame emerald and dancing unnaturally tall. It was enough to illuminate the man standing suddenly in front of you. Even more handsome than you’d imagined. His raven hair was slicked back and shoulder length. The emerald light reflecting off it was the only thing that made it distinct from the shadow behind him. His nobel high cheekbones, the shape of those green eyes, his angular nose. That jaw, all of it- all of it even more terrifying and handsome than anything you’d seen of him. 

You must have looked dumbfounded since the man chuckled, then continued to walk around the circle you were in, his shadow cast unnaturally tall on the walls behind him, like a pacing panther.

“I suppose you’d be surprised since even I thought magic no longer worked in this realm,” he answered for you. You were still kneeling but scooted slightly to follow him, not wanting your back to the man. Even with all your silly longing for the God you knew he was dangerous. “So, human Witch- what did you bring me here for?” He asked, taking a seat on your bed and crossing his legs. You blinked, taken aback by his question. By him even being here. 

“What did I bring you here for?” You echo. Loki rolled his eyes, drumming his long fingers on his crossed knee. 

“I assumed that it would take a genius, at least a somewhat clever sorcerer, to perform this summoning spell. Is my assumption too generous?” Loki quipped, the annoyance not hidden in his tone. You squeezed your fists, feeling embarrassment flood your cheeks. 

“Sorry- I just- did not actually expect this to work,” you explain- feeling your heart clamor against your chest. 

“Clearly. So let’s get to the point- why did you summon me?” He reiterated. You looked at the lounging God, his legs long and a rather bored look on his face. 

“Well, I-” you shut your mouth, feeling the flush on your cheeks. You hadn’t thought this far ahead- you couldn’t tell him you’re in love with him. That would be weird- that would be so weird. Or that you had been obsessed with him for years. That, that really wouldn’t go over well. “Does this mean, you’ll do what I tell you too?” you asked dumbly. Loki raised an eyebrow, the stupidity of your question clear by how he was looking at you. 

“No. I’ll overlook your arrogance in assuming a mortal could have a God at their beckon call,” he stated dryly. “You can bargain. You can offer me treasures and trinkets, and I can consider assisting you in whatever trivial thing it is you desire,” he explained waving his elegant hand in the air. His green gaze slipped to meet your eyes as a devilish smile tugged at his lips; “I’m particularly fond of assisting with vengeance, or curses,” he added smugly. You nodded, one hand holding your chin in a contemplative state. 

“So I ask again, Mortal, what do you want of me?” You met the man’s eyes and felt your heart skip a beat. You supposed after everything, and the fact this worked, you’d die of regret if you didn’t at least try. You bit your lip, still kneeling on the ground, hands interwoven in your lap as you took a deep breath. 

“I want-” you felt heat flood your cheeks, and you had to force yourself to spit out the next words.; “I want to sleep with you.” You managed, your words barely above a whisper. Loki actually looked surprised, and the pause between filled you with new anxiety. Why would he- an actual, real-life God, want to sleep with me? 

“You want me to bed you?” now it was his turn to echo. You nodded, keeping your gaze down at your hands. Not having the nerve to actually look the man in the eyes after saying something so humiliating. 

“Stand,” Loki ordered, and you did so. The long black night dress you wore cascaded down your legs. The coldness of the silk brushing your skin, and the top of it low cut. It wasn’t actually that comfortable to sleep in by how tight it was around your chest, but the cut was so perfect that it pressed your boobs up, looking like they'd almost pour over the fabric. Of course, you chose to get a little dressed up for this silly magic ritual. 

“Give me a spin then,” Loki hummed. You finally looked up to meet his eyes, amusement gleaming in them. You blushed, but turned around slowly, feeling his eyes on you. Taking you in with a newfound interest. 

“So, you simply wish to offer yourself up to me then?” he mused aloud when you had come full circle. You nodded, biting your lip nervously. “To use however I might? For my own pleasure?” he pressed, his gaze playful and a smirk clear on that impossibly handsome face. 

“Yes,” you admit. Your hands fidgeting in front of you. Loki stood up, walking to the edge of the candles. His height towering above you. 

“This sounds almost too good to be true,” he noted, a hunger in his eyes as they roamed over you. “You wouldn’t be trying to trick the God of Lies, would you? You do make quite tempting bait, I must admit,” he mused. You held his gaze, stepping forward. 

“No, I just want you,” you say honestly. “Nothing else,” you breathe. Loki’s brow raised and reached a hand towards you. Then stopped at the barrier of the circle, as if an invisible wall rose up from the candles that encircled you. 

“Curious,” he hummed to himself, the smile still on his lips. He let his hand fall back down, and he stepped away. “Well, I’ll allow you to try and convince me.” Your heart pounded in your chest as he sat back down on the bed looking at you expectantly. 

“You’ll have to come out of that circle though my Darling, it would be a feat to touch me from there,” he purred. You licked your lips, feeling your whole body pulsing with excitement. The rational part of your mind reeling, telling you this must be some dream. Some amazingly vivid dream, and you planned to take full advantage of. You stepped out of the circle, and the candles flared up around you suddenly. It startled you but they went back down after a moment. Loki didn’t look surprised in the least, he just kept his eyes on you inquisitively. 

You knelt before him, his legs already spread, and the smile was growing as he saw your gaze fall to the place between them. You looked up at him, your heart racing. 

“May I?” you ask. Loki grinned, flashing his teeth. 

“You want to suck my cock litle Mortal?” he asked, and your cheeks burned with shame. 

“Yes,” you admit. He chuckled, leaning forward and running his hand through your hair, his palm resting on your cheek. Just his touch made warmth pool in your core. 

“If you truly want to do such a lewd things, then you should be able to ask me properly hmm?” Loki teased, his thumb brushing over your lip. You’re breath hitched, any modesty you might have pretended to have abandoned at the sight of him. 

“Please Loki,” you say, “my King,” you add politely resting your hands on the top of his inner thigh, “Will you please let me suck your cock?” you ask, keeping his gaze. A smugness set in his features, and you knew stroking his ego worked. His thumb dipped into your parted lips and you sucked on it, feeling it graze over your tongue, and were suddenly aware of how outrageously wet you'd already become beneath the dress. 

“I’ll allow it,” he agreed, popping his thumb out of your mouth. You smiled, reaching out to unlace his trousers. You were surprised and delighted to feel he was already hard beneath the clothes. You pulled out his throbbing cock, impressively large and hot to the touch. Your mouth watered as you looked at it. Unbelieving of the fantasy you found yourself in. Not wanting to waste even a moment you started to kiss it, up and down the shaft, letting your tongue slide up along it winning a stiffled moan from the God. You smiled slipping your mouth over it as you sucked the head, pumping the shaft and feeling him filling your mouth. Bobbing against the back of your throat. You couldn't believe that even with it so deep you weren’t even taking him in by half.

“What a surprise you are,” Loki growled, his hands guiding the back of your head. Gentle, undemanding. “The last thing I expected was to find such a wanton slut,” he thought aloud. Slut. The word almost stung. You wanted to protest at that, to say you would never normally do this- it was just because, well because it was him. But even then there was some truth to it, you loved sex. Sure you never kept a partner for long, since no one quite lived up to your expectations. But when you had sex, that was one of the best parts. The part that kept you going out on all those dates. To find someone that piqued your interest. Even if it was just for a night. You thought about all this as you continued to suck him off, at least feeling reassured that you had gotten so many compliments on your head in the past. Hoping that it would be worthy enough for a God. 

“By the Fates,” Loki breathed, and his fingers digging into your hair, holding you steady as his cock pushed deeper down your throat. “Quite the talent,” he noted. Even though you couldn’t breathe you felt a well of pride. Happy that you were pleasing him so. When his grip loosened you sputtered up for air, breathing rapidly. Loki’s green eyes settled on you, looking at those pink lips, wet from the good work you’d been doing. There was a hunger in his eyes as he leaned forward, kissing you. 

For some reason, the act took you aback. His lips were cold, but eager, pressing on yours as his tongue slipped into your mouth. You moaned, feeling a flood of lust erupt at the kiss and race down your whole body. Your hands cupped his face, kissing him back. His mouth intoxicating. He was certainly the best kisser, by far, you’d had. 

“Such a thirsty thing aren’t you?” Loki observed as he finally pulled away. Your brows were knitted, chest rising and falling as your heart hammered relentlessly in your chest. “Want me to fuck you then?” You nodded. Your hand still gripping his cock, running your fingers back and forth over the head. 

“Yes,” you breathe, thinking back to earlier. “Please Loki, please will you be so kind as to fuck me?” you begged, playing with his hard dick. You felt it twitch in your hands and the emerald-eyed God devoured you with his gaze. The lust now full force in his own being. 

“How could I refuse such a pretty little thing like you?” He teased. You quickly got to your feet, wasting no time as you straddled him. Brushing your wet cunt up against his length. The sensation caused you to whimper slightly, wrapping your arms around him. Loki laughed, and you could feel the sound reverberating in his broad chest. 

“So very impatient Darling,” Loki noted, his face now so close to your own. You kissed him, letting his cock slide up and down the opening of your stupidly wet pussy. Loki’s brows knitted as the restraint was clear on his own handsome features. 

“Please Loki,” you whimper breathlessly in his ear. “Please Loki, won’t you fuck me?” you ask again for the final permission. Loki growled, his hands gripping your ass as he pushed himself inside you causing you to moan. The feeling of it absolutely divine. You arch your back, adjusting to his size as you slowly begin to bounce on his cock. 

“Vallhal,” Loki swore under his breath. His hips were alreacy rythmeicly timed with the grip of your ass. You had started out by fucking him, but by the way he was holding you, guiding you on his lap, he was certinley the one using you. You were already so close to climaxing, and when the God’s fluttering eyes found yours and he kissed you fireworks erupted in your cunt. The orgasm was insane, sending each nerve ending into overload as Loki still relentlessly bounced you up and down his thick cock. You were crying out- the moan strangled and full of shock. Lust dripping from every breath you tried despreatly to calm your body. Which was riding wave after wave of pleasure.

 When you finally quited down a bit, your pussy was still pulsing, almost painfully as he kept fucking you. You had lost yourself so completely you didn’t realize Loki was grinning at you ear to ear. 

“My, my,” he teased, then leaned in to growl in your ear; “Wherever was such a treasure like you doing hiding here?” You went to respond but he slammed your ass down on his cock, and you sputtered in response. Your whole body still recovering from the senseation overload, and this was becoming to much. 

“Please Loki,” you whimper in his ear, “please cum in me,” you beg wanting him to finish. As much as you were loving every seconed of it you felt like your heart might actually give out. Loki grinned, fucking you faster, earning whimper after whimper from you and he kept at it. Till finally you felt him spill into you. The senseation unlike any you’d ever felt. He had wrapped is arms tight around you when he climaxed too, almost crushing you as he breathed hard into your chest. His deep voice ragged. 

It was a long momment, of both of you relearning how to breath till he finally loosened his grip around your waist. You sat on him, with his softening dick still inside you as long as you could. Not wanting this to end. The God didn’t seem to want to move either, and instead a quite settled in around the two of you. Warm and hazy in the afterglow of sex. 

Loki reached his hand to your cheek, brushing a stray hair away as his eyes took in your face. Drinking in your features with a smile tugging at his lips. 

“You, my Darling, can summon me anytime you wish,” 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60973525/chapters/155764276

[abellalu]

Adventures on a Foreign Planet | Chapter 1

Summary: After narrowly escaping Thanos, Loki is given a chance for a new life. The Avengers allow Loki to live in New Asgard with his brother, Thor. However, The Avengers are not quick to put their trust into Loki. SHIELD Director Nick Fury recruits an Agent who was once said to be one of the most promising SHIELD Agents, to follow Loki and ensure that he has no plans to harm Earth. Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader A/N: Hello! This is a new series I've been working on and I'm excited to finally be publishing it. This is just the first chapter, so I hope you stick around to see the full story. [ Masterlist | AO3 ]

Every Asgardian knew the stories of the land that was now supposed to be their home. Many celebrations that were full of food and wine also included the Allfather Odin reminding them of the battle in a small village on Midgard called Tønsberg. The audience would shiver, their shoulders tense as Odin described the land being frozen over by the Frost Giants and their malicious leader, King Laufey; the monsters with blood red eyes and physiques that tower over Asgardians.

The story was always told the same way, with Odin leading the Asgardian army into battle without fear. The War eventually ended in the Frost Giants own realm Jotunheim. But the Midgardian village that eventually grew into a city was still remembered as years later, Odin would ask for the Asgardian worshippers to protect the Tesseract.

At the end of the story, Odin would yell “Asgard will always prevail,” and the crowds would cheer as loud as they could and some would chant the phrase before filling their drinks once more.

Now, their home that they had for centuries was gone. The prophesized apocalypse, Ragnarok, had happened. The Asgardians had needed refuge and their new King Valkyrie, with the advice from the formerly Crown Prince Thor, decided the city from their stories could be their new home. The Asgardians knew there would be no grand celebrations for a long time. 

However, most Asgardians were simply grateful to have a chance to continue their lives. Hela’s takeover of Asgard caused many lives to be lost. But their challenges were not over yet, as Thanos had come for the Tesseract. 

Thanos originally went for another infinity stone on a planet called Xander. But decided against it as rumors his daughters Gamora and Nebula knew of his plans stopped him. Little did he know that his daughters and their friends knew of his new plan to go after the Tesseract. The Guardians of the Galaxy, as they referred to themselves as, followed him. With the help of the Nova Corp and some Ravagers, they were able to fight Thanos. The new legend says Nebula performed the final attack, killing The Mad Titan.   

Not every Asgardian survived the Thanos attack. Most were able to escape quickly in a smaller ship with Valkyrie and Korg. Some decided to stay behind and fight. To ensure Asgard had a future. 

Everyday since the Asgardians arrived on Midgard three months ago and renamed the city of Tønsberg to New Asgard, the younger prince of Asgard wondered if it would be the day he was sent to a different realm or was executed. 

Loki's last visit to Midgard resulted in a strange wizard putting him in a strange portal where he fell for thirty minutes while Thor was told to take Loki from Earth. Thor easily agreed that his brother was a threat to Earth. The Battle of New York was far from forgotten.

But, now Thor was telling anyone who would listen that Loki had changed and was a hero for the Asgardians. The Avengers did not trust this supposed change of heart and decided to lock up Loki in the Avengers Compound until they decided what they would do with him. Loki did not put up a fight. What was the point?

Thor attempted to make his brother's living situation as comfortable as possible, requesting that he was not put in a cell but rather an apartment like the ones the other Avengers lived in; Tony Stark's AI FRIDAY, ensuring tight security. 

During the months living in the compound, Loki was questioned on a regular basis, mostly by the Avengers but occasionally by military and government officials. But ultimately, everyone agreed that it was up to the Avengers to make the final decision. 

“Why are you here Loki? Planning another massacre in an attempt to be some King? I wanna know what tricks you got up your sleeve this time cause the mind stuff was really impressive but you don’t seem like the person to enjoy repeating tricks?” asked Clint Barton, a man Loki remembers well. He was always one of the harshest interviewers and for understandable reasons. 

The two men are sitting across from each other at a table in Loki’s temporary apartment. Unlike the others, Loki has not been able to add any personal touches. The walls are plain and all the tabletops bare. 

“I do not plan on conquering. My return to your planet is simply because it is where my brother and our people are,” Loki responds. He sounded casual and almost bored, as if this was a phrase he repeated many times. 

Most of his life, Asgard gave him no attention except when he was causing tricks on them. Why would they when they could instead idolize Thor, the golden prince. Now he is constantly trying to convince others that he is a part of Asgard. That he is wanted by the Asgardians. Loki knew it was a lie, but the silvertongue always knew how to lie. 

“Your people? The people who did not want you to become their king so you decided it would be fun to destroy Earth,” Clint almost laughs.

“Fun is not how I would describe my past experience here.” 

The dark haired God never once broke eye contact with Clint as he said “There is much you don’t know about how that attack came to be. I was not the main person who lost that day.” 

Clint leaned back in his chair, sighing. The details given by Loki about his side of the Battle of New York always felt incomplete. He needed to hold back. The truth of those events and what he experienced because of that Mad Titan is something the Avengers didn’t need to know about.

Knowing it was a lost cause, Clint decided to move on. 

“New Asgard is starting to settle down. People are getting used to the situation, more homes are being built. They are starting work and the children are taking lessons again,” Clint offers.

“So I’ve heard.” 

“You helped Asgardians escape Ragnarok, " he leaned against the table, "You think you could create a new life?”

Loki only nodded.

Mission Assignment Update: Report to Nick Fury at Base 018

You groan as you put your phone back on the nightstand. It was only 6am, but of course the bastard Fury didn’t care that you only got to your apartment past midnight after finishing your latest mission.

It wasn’t an exciting one. There was a rumor that a “dangerous group” in New Jersey was developing technology that could hack anyone including Tony Stark himself. 

And of course like always it was nothing. Just a group of grad students who got pretentious about some of the programs were developing and exaggerated the truth to some of their friends.

Yet, SHIELD still never wanted to take any risks so you were the ever so lucky agent that had to investigate then write a riveting report about how it was nothing.

The notification didn’t include a meeting time, meaning that Fury wants you to be there as soon as possible and no matter what time you arrive, he will complain about you being late. 

Your eyelids still feel heavy as you will yourself to get out of bed. As you slowly gain consciousness you wonder why you even have to go to Fury for your mission assignment. Most of the time you are messaged the directions of the missions and complete it all on your own. 

Eventually you manage to get dressed and run out of your apartment to head to the SHIELD base. It wasn’t a very big one, though most of the facilities weren’t anymore. SHIELD didn’t have much now after the Hydra infiltration. Many resources were gone and so were many agents. 

This base was hidden in plain sight. It was just another skyscraper in New York full of many businesses that each rented a couple floors. As far as the other workers in the building knew, “Secure and Shield Surveillance” was a small technology company that possibly made security cameras or computer protection software. 

No one ever really cared enough to investigate further.

You enter the building and take the elevator to the 8th floor. When the doors open and there you are greeted by the hostile stare of the secretary, Bernadette who has half-moon glasses and dresses as though she is working in the 1950s. Her gray hair is in its usual tight updo that never allows any piece of hair to move from its assigned position. 

“Well look who decided to grace us with her presence today.” 

Bernadette had been a part of SHIELD longer than anyone else (you didn’t know how long because no one would ever risk asking her age). You sometimes wondered if she was always a secretary or if her past jobs were more like yours. 

All you did know was Bernadette believed that SHIELD would be best run if everyone obeyed orders and that she hated you because you always did the exact opposite.

You roll your eyes and respond, “Always nice seeing you too. If I knew you missed me so much I would have visited more often.” 

“How generous.” Bernadette returns to her work, attempting to ignore you still being in the room. 

“I know, when I die I’ll be treated like a saint,” you smile to yourself, knowing that you probably annoyed her enough that she will be irritated for the rest of the day. 

She continues to type on her computer, attempting to maintain a bored face, but you are still pleased because you can see the slight furrow in her brow and her frown deepen. “Director Fury is waiting in his office. A reminder on basic manners dear, don’t leave your boss waiting.”

“Didn’t plan on it Bernadette, I’m always polite.” You are already walking down the hall when you respond, while you attempt to hold your small laugh.

As you enter the office, you see Fury but there was another figure with him. Steve Rogers. You’ve met before many times albeit the encounters were usually very short. 

He has been involved with SHIELD for many years and after the infiltration was revealed, it was he who heavily promoted the idea of reforming SHIELD in hopes of maintaining its legacy. However, he was still most committed to the Avengers and most SHIELD operations were handled by others. 

But now the two men are standing around Fury’s desk, staring at you while you still stand in the doorway. 

“Director, Captain, I hope you plan on explaining to me why we are all here.” 

Fury steps forward towards you, his arms crossed, “Agent, I assumed you would know from the dispatch that we need to talk about your new mission.” 

“Yes, message that provided no details except to meet you here which we both know is irregular. We both don’t have time for this and I assume your other guest, who was not even mentioned on my invitation, doesn’t either.” 

Steve looks apologetic as he says “I apologize that I caught you off guard, that wasn’t my intention.” 

“It was absolutely my intention. Why are you complaining so much? I thought you loved surprises and it's really a shame we don’t see each other more often,” Fury interrupts.

You force yourself to laugh, “Not my fault you didn’t wanna go on a coffee date with me,” you close the door behind you, fully entering Fury’s office “Captain, are you willing to finally tell me about this mission?”

Steve sighs and sits down in the chair beside the desk, “As you know Thor has brought the Asgardians here to Earth, they’ve been rebuilding their home in Norway.” 

You nod. Asgard’s destruction and refuge wasn’t unknown. You heard about some missions of agents being sent to deliver resources and technology to the Asgardians, in an attempt to help them adapt to their new lifestyle. 

But doesn’t explain why Fury and Steve, themselves need to personally explain your mission to you.

Steve continues, “Thor also brought some of his companions with him,” he pauses, “Including his brother Loki.”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach and breaths stop. 

Loki is back on Earth? It has been years since the attack on New York, but no one has forgotten it. At one moment you are sparring with your fellow SHIELD trainees, placing bets on who was going to get assigned a real mission first, then in the next moment it doesn’t matter. SHIELDs Helicarrier was attacked and the perpetrator had escaped.

Everything you learn about their menacing leader was after the attack. SHIELD was able to collect some footage of the tall dark god. The footage was blurry, but yet you can still see the God enjoying himself. The attack was no accident. 

“You let Loki back on Earth? The Asgardians have been on Earth for months, are you trying to tell me you’ve allowed him to be here the whole time. What the fu-”

“Our reasons for allowing him to be here are complicated, Agent. Please try to stay quiet and listen.” Fury starts sounding more and more exhausted, whether by you or the entire situation is debatable. 

Steve looks at Fury then back at you, “When we saw Loki had arrived with Thor, we immediately put him in custody. Thor was upset with this decision and tried to explain to us that- well he believes his brother is good now.”

Thor believes his brother is good?

Fury explains, “Loki apparently did some hero shit when they were escaping Asgard and now Thor believes that his little dream of fighting alongside his brother is possible.” 

The story they are telling you feels like a dream. Or maybe this is a nightmare. It is too unbelievable to be real.

“Do you believe that? This is ridiculous-”

You are interrupted again by Fury “What did I say about you saying quiet and listening. We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” 

“We decided to investigate Thor’s claims about his brother. We needed to decide what to do with Loki and we finally came to a conclusion,” Steve stares at me “Loki is moving to New Asgard.” 

Steve continues, “New Asgard is where Thor is and maybe eventually after a while, he might even help the Avengers out. This is a dangerous move we know, but it’s one we believe in,” he pauses. “I believe we can give him a second chance.” 

Steve Rogers, or Captain America as the world knew he always wanted to do the right thing. To believe there is still good in the world even if it felt like it was all following apart. 

And somehow he could even see good in Loki.

You are lost in your thoughts when Fury's voice sneaks into your head. “This is where you come in, Agent.” 

Your head whips around to stare at Fury, your mouth slightly agape. During this meeting, you had become so distracted by this absurd story that you forgot the original reason for you being here.  

"Thor promises to keep an eye on his brother, but we want to be safe," Steve said, "Fury recommended you for the job.” 

You stare at Fury. He was always a calculated man 

"Why did you choose me for this mission?"

"Loki annoys the hell out of me and so do you,” Fury shugs. 

“Ha, very funny,” you say completely expressionless. 

This whole situation was ridiculous. 

But, maybe it was time for a challenge. For years now, every mission you’ve received always felt the same and never truly needed a SHIELD agent to handle it. 

“So, you’re telling me my new mission is to babysit a God?” They both nod cautiously. You pause, making sure you have made up your mind, “So when do I start?”

[arathejedi394]

snippet from my warlord/prince fic wedding chapter

Soon, his wedding party begins donning weapons and armor rather than fine clothes. Steve assumes this is a Northern tradition. And then it isn’t long at all when Loki pops their head into the room.

“Ready?” they ask.

Steve nods. Wanda puts a flower crown of daisies, primrose, and roses on his head and adjusts the ribbons trailing down his hair.

“Ready,” she says.

Loki leads them from the sixth floor to the third. The ceremony is taking place in the ballroom; music pours from it. Loki arranges them in formation. Steve stands at the very front with his parents flanking him. A guard stands just behind Joseph, a spear point to his back. Loki has Darcy and Jane stand behind Steve and his parents to carry his train, then Natasha with Clint and Wanda on either side of her, and Sam and Riley side-by-side at the rear. Loki pokes their head around a crack in the great doors, then turns back and waves to two guards.

“On my signal, open the doors,” Loki says.

The guards take the door handles.

The music hits a soaring crescendo and then stops. A moment passes. Steve takes a breath. Then drums begin to play. Only drums, accompanied by a guttural chant in a foreign tongue.

“Now!” Loki says, hastily backing up.

The guards swing open the doors to the ballroom. The tables have been removed completely and the crowd stands in two groups, parted by a long red carpet leading from the doors, down the steps, to the stage at the top of the ballroom. 

Bucky is waiting at that end of the ballroom, with Thor, Brunhilde, Pepper, Rhodey, and Tony standing on his left, Steve’s right. Bucky again wears his teeth-and-bone armor and his greatsword, but no helm or crown and without his leather vest. Bruce stands behind a large wooden and cut stone altar. There’s a bull tied to the altar.

The drums triple in speed and fanfare plays for a moment. Loki waves for Steve to start walking. He jolts a little and goes, his arms folded through each of his parents’ elbows. He doesn’t remember the ballroom being so long. The drums get faster the closer to the altar Steve gets. Joseph’s grip on Steve’s hand is almost painful. Sarah is silently crying. Bucky is just watching Steve approach, eyes dark.

At the steps to the stage, Sarah lets go of Steve’s elbow. Joseph holds on for a second, until he’s poked in the back by the spear. He clenches his jaw and lets go. Steve glances at him, then pauses.

“I don’t pity you,” he whispers.

He turns his back on Joseph. Darcy and Jane carry Steve’s train until he takes the first step onto the stage. Steve’s wedding party splits off to the left and arrange themselves in a line. The guard ushers Steve’s parents into the crowd, then stands very close to Joseph. Steve bites his lip, then looks up at Bucky.

Bucky’s gaze meets his, then trails down. Steve gets warm in the face. Bucky just nods, smiling. He takes Steve’s elbow and they turn to the altar.

Up closer, Steve sees the altar is made of black marble and mounted on oak. There is a vast, nine-branched tree etched into the stone. The drums get louder and faster. On the altar is a goblet of wine, a bundle of rope, and a vicious-looking knife. Smoke burns from incense sat in lanterns behind the altar. Bruce raises his hands. The drums stop.

“Let Frigg, the All-Mother, be with us tonight!” Bruce calls; his voice echoes somewhat unnaturally. “Tonight, we bind the hands of the Warlord King James Buchanan Barnes, god of victory and fertility and blood, Dread Conquerer of the North, High King of the Empire of the North –” Bucky has such a stupidly long title – “And the Omega Prince of Brooklyn, Steven, son of Sarah! Rejoice, my people!”

The drums hammer again as the crowds cheer and stamp their feet. Bruce claps his hands. All goes silent.

“A groom cannot approach the altar of marriage armed! Who here will stand for him?”

“I will,” Thor answers.

Bucky unbuckles his greatsword and hands it to Thor. Thor draws it and drops to a kneeling sentry stance, sword tip to the stones. Steve and Bucky close the distance to the altar. Bruce takes from his pocket a gold ring set with a ruby. 

“This ring,” he says, “represents the eternal bond that our King has with his Omega. Prince Steven will vow to uphold that bond and place the ring on the King’s finger.”

He gives it to Steve. Steve picks up Bucky’s left hand and bites his lip as he almost trembles.

“I make you blood of my blood,” he recites, imagining the page Natasha had written the vow on. “I make you bone of my bone. I give you my cup. I swear to you my undying servitude, loyalty, and love. I will cherish and honor you. I will support you, tooth and claw, to my last breath. I give you all that is mine to give, all my earthly possessions shall be yours from now unto Ragnarok and beyond.”

Steve slides the ring onto Bucky’s finger. Bucky flips his hand and catches Steve’s, squeezing it. Bruce takes out a smaller version of the same ring and holds it up again.

“This ring represents the eternal bond that Prince Steven has with our King. King Barnes will vow to uphold that bond.”

Bruce hands the ring to Bucky and he takes Steve’s left hand.

“I make you blood of my blood. I make you bone of my bone. I give you my sword. I swear to you my undying servitude, loyalty, and love. I will cherish and honor you, I will defend you, sword and shield, to my last breath. I give you all that is mine to give, all my earthly possessions shall be yours from now unto Ragnarok and beyond.”

Bucky puts the ring on Steve’s finger. Steve grins, looking up at him. Bucky touches his chin with his other hand and then brushes his knuckles against Steve’s cheek.  Bruce wraps the rope around their wrists in a strange pattern, then whispers to Steve to grasp and pull. He does, and Bucky does, too, and the rope snaps into a knot. Bruce then lifts the goblet. Bucky takes it, then he lifts Steve’s hands and has Steve hold the goblet, as well.

Bucky pushes gently on the goblet and Steve raises it to his lips. He drinks deeply, and then lifts his hands to give it to Bucky to drink. He drains the cup and they lower their hands. Bruce takes the goblet and then the rope.

“The King will now offer a sacrifice to the All-Mother!” Bruce says, voice echoing still.

[starythewriter]

Captain America X you, a side by side battle. Fluff ending.

TW: sexual themes, straddling with clothing on, shirtless, kissing V line kiss.

You got up finding thanos, it had been weeks since you and Steve went up against thanos.

The other avengers joined around crowned the war zone.

But this time things were different. He disappeared, you all saw a green grave that came out of the ground and exploded exposing a cave.

You and Steve went down, along with iron man, Wanda and the rest of the avengers, you all went down seeing four path ways, slowly giant spiders came rushing toward you. Steve quickly throw them back while Wanda throw plasma at them making them disappear.

You all decided to spilt up, you Steve and Logan would stay together. As you went further you saw new spiders being the size of a WALL, they had a red triangle on them.

You threw an energy ball at them, however only more came out of a hole in the wall…

Slowly Logan pointed saying “an opening” as the a wall opened up revealing a new path way.

You all sprinted over, finding a key, you pick it and it glows, “put it in the hole” said Logan.

You saw a giant wall with a very little key lock. You put the key in a new path way opened.

You all walked through it as it started to become pitch black.

You held onto Steve “relax” he said kissing your ear. He held your hand you all walked forward, unsure of what to do now.

You all walked and saw some light peaking through, you and Steve spirited toward the light and made it out of the maze.

Only you 3 were out, Wanda and the rest were nowhere to be found.

“Here I’ll try and make a connection with Wanda” you said as yu used your magic to connect with Wanda, you squinted and open your hands off, you slowly floated in the air, your eyes lit up with a blue hue.

You saw small visions of Wanda in the maze, running around, but you grunted as the maze… it felt almost as if the maze was fighting you back….

Wands focused aswell pushing hundreds of spiders away, she saw a key and picked it up, she put it in the keyhole and it unveiled another pathway.

You smiled and Wanda said “let’s go now!” In confidence, they went through the dark Tunnel, quickly Wanda flew up but a net with metal came over the exit trapping them.

You grabbed Wanda’s arm, before she fell back down, you grabbed her hard, you both changed some phrases with confidence as a struggle as your magic was wreaking around the net.

Quickly you both finished your chant breaking the net, everything got out safely…

Except for Wanda… as the net sent a shockwave through her body… one so poisonous that weaved down her body.

“Thank you” said Wanda, smiling and caressing your hand.

She sat down, as Thor and the flash helps her recover,

*time skip* you and now Steve would now gone after a long day.

He got ontop of his king size bed and laid down.

You you both hugged eachother. Slowly kissing him.

He moaned as he felt your tongue dancing on his

You put your arms on his thick biceps slowly straddling him.

He took off your shirt unveiling your big perky nipples, his eyes shot up almost as if he had seen a meteor,,, he kissed your nipples, you moaned loudly throwing hand back.

He slowly took off his shirt, •get ontop of me* you started to kiss his chest, his abs, then his V line… you straddled him faster…

You moaned loudly closing your eyes when… *knock knock* “Y/N?” We need to talk” said Logan… you both stopped in shock…

The end!

[justjams2003]

Sweet Savagery- 8

Paring: Dark!Thor Odinson x Slave!Reader

Summary: All your life, Thor's blue eyes have haunted you. You believed you outran him, but now all your hopes come tumbling down.

Warnings: Death of loved ones, violence, nightmares, non-con, p in v, degradation. Tell me if I missed any.

Word count: 1.9k+, Unedited

1st Divider by: @firefly-graphics

2nd Divider by: @cafekitsune

Tag list: @torossosebs @steverogersistheguy

~Masterlist~

Part 7~Part 9

"Fuck, pretty girl, how am I supposed to keep my hands off you?" Thor whispers in your ear, his hands grab you by the waist and slot his groin against your bottom.

His whole naked front is pressed up tight against your back. His arms force you further into the stone of the balcony's edge. For once, you actually woke up before Thor. Or perhaps he waited for you? After all his sleep is few and far between.  

His kisses are sloppy against your ear and you're sure another night slip will be ruined. "Who's pretty little slut are you?" He mutters, you can feel his hard cock against your back. Rubbing it up and down, you can't help but arch your back in the hope of any sort of attention. "I'm yours," you mutter, leaning into his touch. Baring your neck for him, in hopes he'll kiss you more.  

His hot fingers gently lift your night dress over your bottom. "Just look at that. Dripping and wet. Fuck baby, you're eating good." He whispers, and you can feel his cock rub against his folds. You bite your lip, suppressing a moan, the village people are already up and about. And your balcony is very much in view.  

His hands strangle their way into your night dress. Cupping your body in his large hands. The parts of your body that make you soft, and feminine, he holds in his brute hands.

Claiming the beauty of his future queen with black and blue bruises. On your hips, on your shoulders, all from a very busy night before. Now they're accompanied by bright red love bites.  

Bracing himself on the balcony, he shoved himself deep inside you. A moan escapes your mouth, shocked by it you cover your mouth with your hand. Thor growls in your ear. He then takes both your hands and locks them behind your back. Unable to hold yourself up, you buckle against his body. His large chest fits the mould of your body perfectly.  

"Let them hear what a slut you are. Let them hear how happy your king makes you." He grumbled into your ear, increasing his pace. Your face is scrunched up, savouring every pump, every touch, and every kiss.

Some of the peasants have noticed, but his cock is heaven and you don't care if people hear. The whole world could hear at this point, as long as he continues to fuck you like he's doing now.  

It doesn't take long for you to reach your finish. And when the knot in your stomach forces your walls to pull Thor tighter, he too unravels. The hot and heavy cum coats your walls. "We'll have an heir in no time," he mutters into your ear, riding out his high. You give a breathy chuckle at this, imagine that. You round with your master's seed, fucked out and needy to be held.  

And when your hot bodies are pressed together, sticky with sweat and no longer shivering from the cold, Thor speaks up. "We're departing for England today. You're coming." He commands, not leaving space for argument. Not that you would argue, if he believes it's right then so it is.  

The men outside rowing, chant. Screaming out rhythms in a language you do not understand. Heavy boot steps echo through your cabin. The boat sways wildly left and then aggressively right.

You feel lightheaded. Boats haven't bothered you before, but before you hadn't gone through such a big storm. The wind whips around angrily, you can hear the way the boat creaks and groans.  

The door swings open, the rain pouring in just for a moment. Until, a very wet, Thor enters and closes the door again. You're sat on the bed, shivering and trying to keep the bile from your throat. Like always, Thor knows exactly how you feel. "Not used to a boat, little dove?" He asks, chuckling as he shrugs off his wet coat.  

You can only shake your head. "C'mere." He holds open his arms, and like before you can't refuse crawling into them. And when he does, you instantly feel better. His warm comfort stops the shivering. His sturdy self-grounds you. As if he himself is a rock in the busy storm, a sturdy piece of ground to ease your stomach and your mind.  

Thor sits down by the little desk; the chair groans from his size. “I had planned on teaching you to read during this trip. At least just a little English, but it seems my poor little girl doesn’t handle boats well.” He mutters, holding your waist as close as he can to his warm body.

“And it seems, she and the cold don’t mix either.” He chuckles as you snuggle in closer to his body heat.  

His thighs are huge, like the size of the tree trunks you can see in the heavy forest by the castle. Not to mention the way he handles your body as if you’re the size of a doll.

Each time he rubs circles on your arms to raise your body heat, the fabric between your thighs causes friction between your groins. You’ve become custom to attention it would seem and a needy whimper escapes your mouth.  

He lets out a loud robust chuckle, taking your body and pushing it down on his thick thighs. “So fucking demanding.” He says, watching your every move.

A blush coats your cheeks, and you bite your lip. Embarrassed by the sudden need for touch you’ve developed. Never have you wanted to be fucked. Thor has changed that. Every time you see him, something ignites in you.  

“Go on, you fucking slut. So damn needy, go on,” he commands, spreading his legs wide and leaning back against the table. Seeing the bored look on his face, already makes you desperate to please him. You take your bottom lip between your teeth, filled with the shame of doing this in front of him.  

He rolls his eyes, “You’re losing your chance, pretty thing. Last chance to make yourself feel good. Or I’ll make sure that pussy of yours is put to good use.” He commands, squeezing your thigh in a warning. Right where he knows one of your bruises are.

You whine in response, not sure what you want. If you want him to use you like a cum-bucket as he usually does, or to spill your juices right here on his thigh. 

Thor raises a brow at you, his jaw ticks and you know you’re testing his patience. You brace yourself on his other thigh with your hands. And then, your hips begin to gyrate. The fold of your fabric rubs upright against your clit. The sensitive nub of nerves sparks pleasure through your whole body.

Your hips make circles on his thighs, and Thor has to hold you up by the waist. His thigh are so huge and he smirks seeing the way that you have to keep your eyes from rolling back.  

“You look so obscene, fucking yourself right here on my thigh. Like the dirty whore you are.” He comments, his large hands pressed firmly against your smaller ones. His lewd words cause even lewder sounds to escape from your mouth. “God, pretty thing, you like it when I call you such crude words?” All you can really answer is in more moans.  

He can tell by the way that hips chase the high faster, and the way you struggle to keep yourself up that your climax is close. He takes you by the waist and pushes you down further on his thigh.

“Cum for me, like the harlot you are.” He commands, grinning when your body begins to shake and it’s quite clear the knot in your stomach has become undone. “Look at that fucking face.” His huge hands grab you by the cheeks, attaching your lips to his in a sloppy and wet kiss.  

Spit goes flying between you two. “No one else should get to see this fucking look on your face.” He demands and you must swallow the exhaustion that rises in your throat. You most definitely don’t feel seasick anymore. Your underwear and his pants are soaked in your sticky liquids. You give Thor a sloppy smile and he growls as a reply.  

“Feeling better?” He asks wiping the sweat from your forehead. “Much, thank you my Thor.”  

Xxxx 

That night, when the wind has finally calmed down, when the rain has stopped thundering down and the people rowing had gone to bed, Thor left your room. You almost instantly noticed, your seasickness returning the moment he let go of you. And with careful quiet steps, you follow him.  

He’s sitting on the very edge of the boat; you can only see his back. He’s only got his pants on, the cold doesn’t seem to faze him. Meanwhile, you’re dressed in your best winter clothes as well as Thor’s coat.

Coming up close, you can see his eyes are closed and he’s muttering in the language you now recognize but still do not understand.  

Suddenly he stops, he seems to take a deep breath, and then those lightning-blue eyes catch yours instantly. “Yes, my love?” He asks, suddenly switching up his demeanour. “Is this what you do, when you do not sleep?” You ask, wrapping Thor’s cloak closer around your body and then sitting down next to him in the same position.  

He eyes you, and then without even asking anymore, he scoops you up into his arms. “Only those who can see are allowed to do this ritual.” He explains, guiding your hands so that your palms face up to the sky. “Can I see?” You ask him, your eyes scrutinising his every move.  

“You tell me, little dove. Do you hear the language I speak? Do you see the difference in the eyes of the ones that protect you? The strength we carry and wisdom we hold?” Thor mentions the scar across his chest.

And then suddenly it hits you. Have they reached a level of spirituality that many dedicate their life to reach? Or are they chosen by the gods? And why on earth would you be picked to be able to see?  

You gulp at his words and refuse to show any reaction. “Close your eyes and repeat.” He commands and speaks words in the language that he knows so well. Except your tongue stumbles over the words, and you’re sure you’ve butchered the language. And then, suddenly, you can see again. But you're certain you did not open your eyes.  

Everything is glowing, the waves of the ocean look to be covered in glitter. The stars sparkle in gold like nothing you’ve ever seen before. The boat too looks as though it’s made of solid gold.

A shocked gasp escapes your mouth. You turn to Thor to make sure you haven’t fallen asleep. Except he too, is such a breathtaking sight. Tears form in your eyes at his beauty. Even breathing feels almost orgasmic.  

He speaks his native tongue and yet somehow you understand it exactly. “I cannot explain if you do ask. The gods will smite me.” It’s all he can say if you are to judge his words at face value. “Now, open,” Thor whispers and you obey. You feel your mortal form open your eyes and then, it all fades away. Nothing glitters in gold, and everything feels so dull.  

“Every time we make love, I see the world like so. This is why you are mine. You have what I crave, what I need. And in time, my love, you will see as I do.” And with that, his mouth connects with yours. And for just a second, you can see the sparkles dance once more.  

[pixelatedquarter]

Day 44 of Tourdust: I'm sending this from the other side of the apocalypse that just unfolded, trying to get it across while the veil is still thin, but I can't promise it will ever reach.

One thing they don't tell you about the so called Halloween 'veil' is that apparently doesn't only divide the realm of the living and the dead, but also the integrity of the timeline. Somehow, earlier than we expected to have news of our trick or treaters at the scene, we were informed they were witnessing a show from the pre-hiatus, or rather, what would have been the pre-hiatus until The Pumpkin King From The Chicago Hardcore Scene returned, in all his sunglasses-wearing milfy glory, to once again scream lyrics onstage.

Once this event unfolded it didn't take long for ghost sightings to be reported at the Pvris retirement home. At first we thought we knew what awaited, with one of them wearing a baseball cap, the ones of us most versed in tinfoil hatmaking considering perhaps at worst they were covering their costumes with sheets.

But we soon realized he was too tall to be our dear melodramatic femme fatale's dead soulmate (again); and then there were more of them. It was soon clear that ghost tricks had been summoned to obfuscate what the pumpkin king had in store for the trick or treaters, and for all of us, attending from our dear Andy's phone.

On the palm of his hand we were standing when we saw just how high the levels of sillyness were: we were safe from those ghosts for they had been busted by a sexy sexy guitar, a crack of lightning beat in time with the drums, and undoubtedly the big bad grandmilf wolf from shrek had been responsible, in his soulmate exalting poetry, of chanting the name of a star thrice. After all this tour trying to keep a semblance of matching, it's more than earned that tonight of all nights they'd each embody a wildly different member of a wildly different group.

Usually we receive critical hits of damage around the time Patrick gets his little moment to shine. We didn't even make it to the riff this time.

Faster than Beetlejuice became just a regular eyeliner wearing spirit, our werewolf turned into this ethereal human (perhaps evocative of being lost into dreamland in his nightgown, perhaps that's owed to the fantasy land he constructed around them), more an apparition of a lost soul handing out candy to the kids rather than the implied threat of a furry posing as a grandmother trying to trick us. And as the latter started singing the ever haunting tunes of Heaven, Iowa, cameras soon panned to the spot where Pete usually sits alone, as the now wigless, armourless, but just as toned god of thunder enveloped him in a hug, capturing both of them laughing, perhaps comforting each other, certainly having fun, before Thor bolted just in time to avoid missing his cue.

We know better than to make deals with devils, i promise, we do. No matter how good they look in eye makeup. But, sometimes it IS worth making a deal with Beetlejuice to get him to play I'm Like A Lawyer for our streamer. Besides, it's not like the pumpkin king, who would use the distraction of the new and devastating "when i woke up next to you" to turn into his skeletal form, would let any marriages come of it. Well, unless it's for the bit, or you mishear him state his intentions to be engaged himself to this devil. Wouldn't be the wildest thing he's said on riff. Truly, a second riff with Patrick was the greatest treat of the night and he damn well knows it, he's always been good at knowing his subjects.

And The Magic 8 Ball has always been good at knowing when to throw us for a loop. We thought 'surely. if it's reset, that means new rules will not keep showing up.' and oh how wrong we were. 'You will cover Halloween for Halloween' it told them, not giving them more than a day to practice a song that wasn't even theirs. 'And by the way, fuck the legal system' it added, for good measure, despite the lights not being as sexy as they were last time.

By the non-encore encore the only sensible member of this ragtag group, who managed to keep his full attire was the ghostbuster, the sounds from his guitar as effective as any proton pack, as powerful as the thunderous beat Thor kept on the drums.

And so it was time to end the night of trick or treating. The skeleton's bones rattled as his hips swayed, roses clung like vines intertwined with his rib cage, and a bony elbow pressed against this demon who could have been the devil himself 12 years ago, but certainly looked happier now. In spite of it all, it was Saturday again.

[samsexualdeancurious]

Here (NSFW)

Pairing: Thor x Reader

For a Demon patron request

---

Thor’s hips roll against yours, small movements constrained by the way your legs are clamped tight around his body. Your fingers clutch at his shoulders to pull him closer and yet it’s not close enough. It will never be close enough, you realize as you gasp out his name into the curve of his throat. His pulse beats a reassuring rhythm in the soft place just beneath his jaw.

He’s here, it seems to chant. He’s alive.

When you were told by a frantic messenger boy that the King had fallen in battle, it was like your heart had been torn from your body. Now, every thrust and kiss and murmured word is a suture stitching you back together. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes, dampening his beard and slipping across your temple to get lost in your hair. Each droplet seems to take a minute piece of your pain with it.

“I’m here,” Thor murmurs, a low rumble against the shell of your ear.

You just hold on tighter.

[justice-for-jacob-marley]

Raj Koothrappali from The Big Bang Theory for the character ask?

Sure!

Favorite thing about them: He's so relatable, all the way down to him being the quietest out of them all and often not knowing what to say in social situations.

Least favorite thing about them: The fact that he still has some "stereotypical Indian" qualities to him despite being an otherwise well-rounded character.

Three things I have in common with them:

I'm socially awkward.

I love karaoke and video games.

I have issues with my parents sometimes.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

I'm not of Indian descent.

I'm not a physicist with a PhD.

I don't live in my own apartment.

Favorite line:

From The Precious Fragmentation, after he and his friends chant the "One ring to rule them all" rhyme: "Holy crap, are we nerdy!"

From The Adhesive Duck Deficiency: "If I could speak the language of rabbits, they would be amazed, and I would be their king." And later on: "I would be kind to my rabbit subjects. At first."

From The Clean Room Infiltration: "Amy, good luck getting these guys excited about a dinner with a theme. I gave up when no one cared about my Tom Hanks-Giving."

brOTP: Everyone in his social group, as well as his dog Cinnamon.

OTP: The girl I believe he meets in the audience after the end of the last episode (more on that later).

nOTP: Any of his exes, his family, or his dog.

Random headcanon: After the show ends, he gets closer with a girl he meets in the audience at Sheldon's speech, and eventually starts dating her and then marries her. He deserves love, too.

Unpopular opinion: He deserved to get a love interest first, not Howard.

Song I associate with them:

"My Heart, My Universe", from The Thespian Catalyst:

"Thor and Dr. Jones", from The 2003 Approximation:

Favorite picture of them:

His expression in this one is contagious.

With his dog Cinnamon. She's so cute- and I love his purple jacket in this one too.

Again, he looks great in purple.

With the hat that he, for some reason, only wore in the pilot episode.

[the-mjolnir-owner]

〽️ - Find my muse struck by lightning

@brynhildr-valkyrie-voldsom

@brynhildr-valkyrie-voldsom

Training the new warrior generation of asgardians, sakaarians and other refugees alike was a conjoined job Thor and Sif shared under their King's supervision - whenever Thor was around, of course.

Today the children were chanting his name after the self-defense class, begging him to show them the lightning. And Thor did, because, why not?

The kids were all behind him, excited when Thor summoned a huge blast and lit up the entire city to their delight. But, amidst their squeals of joy, he heard a shout of pain. Oh no.

Following the general direction of the sound, Thor found their King, Valkyrie, flat on the floor, braids standing on end, a shocked expression on her face: she was struck. Oh no.

“Val!” He kneeled by her side, shaking her gently, “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were near the training fields. Talk to me!” He couldn’t help but feel anxious and guilty, then amusement took over him at her sudden porcupine hairstyle. Oh no.

[justwriteryan]

Think of this as an alternate intro to Wakanda Forever. I wondered how the rest of the MCU reacted to the news.

                                             THE NEWS

Interior shot. A man walks past a domed window at the head of an ornate wooden staircase. He rubs his temples. As he descends the stairs and comes into view we see the man is DOCTOR STEPHEN STRANGE. We are in his Sanctum Sanctorum in Greenwich Village. Strange walks into the Sanctum’s impressive living room, where his friend and colleague (and boss) WONG sits on a couch sipping an herbal tea.

STRANGE: I don’t know if I’m possessed or crazy but I keep hearing these voices in my head. It’s like somebody chanting. Or even…

WONG: Singing.

STRANGE: You’ve heard it too.

WONG: Only the most powerful magic users of this dimension can hear it. You. Me. Mordo.

STRANGE: So what is it?

WONG: The Choir of Kings. It can only be heard in this dimension when the gates of the Astral Plane have been opened.

STRANGE: And why would…oh.

WONG: Yes.

Wong pours Strange a cup of tea. Strange accepts the cup and joins him on a nearby armchair. The pair drink in silence.

Exterior shot. A bustling seaside village full of tourists, Vikings and aliens. The sign by the entrance reads WELCOME TO NEW ASGARD. In her office at the Asgardian Town Hall, King Valkyrie is poring over various documents and scrolls. Her assistant, MIEK enters the room chittering wildly. Valkyrie doesn’t look up.

VAL: Spit it out, Miek.

Miek slams a piece of paper onto her desk. Val reads it.

VAL: Is this true?

VAL: Thor said he was the first to come through the portals in the last stand against Thanos. Midgard just lost one of its bravest men.

Miek says nothing.

VAL: Arrange a tribute. Immediately. One worthy of Valhalla.

Interior shot. A coffee shop in Lower Manhattan. The news has now reached the mainstream media. A “Breaking News” alert spins onto the screen of the TV above customer’s heads. Noticing the change in atmosphere, some kid named PETER PARKER raises his head from a pile of textbooks and reads the headline sailing across the screen.

 

KING T’CHALLA, SOVEREIGN RULER OF WAKANDA HAS DIED.

PETER: Oh, man…

Flashback to the airport battle in CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR as Peter recalls his first real superhero fight. We see clips of his own vlog footage from the beginning of SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING and we hear his initial reaction to seeing Black Panther.

SPIDER-MAN: Whoa, who’s that new guy?

His voice echoes through his mind as he returns to the present. He looks around the room as people congregate under the TV screen and read the news alerts on their phones. Somebody notices him and glances in their direction. Instinctively, Peter bows his head and buries himself once again in his books.

Exterior shot. A U.S. Army airfield. SAM WILSON the new CAPTAIN AMERICA, currently in civilian attire walks across the tarmac. Soldiers salute as he passes. He nods back at them. He’s on the phone.

SAM: You seen the news?

Interior shot. A sparse Brooklyn apartment. On the other end of the call is BUCKY BARNES, the WINTER SOLDIER. He’s holding the phone to his ear but looking at something across the room. 

BUCKY: Yeah. I saw.

Pan around to reveal what’s holding Bucky’s attention. A bracelet of Wakandan kimoyo beads sit on a small table. Hovering in the air above is a projection-hologram of the late King T’Challa, unmasked and standing proudly. Below him is a single line of text:

                  GLORY TO T’CHALLA. WAKANDA FOREVER.

                                      END.

[worthystill]

bottomless pit of thor odinson edits. 

    mutuals may reblog

[holylulusworld]

Living Titan - Kinktober 21

Summary: You pray to the God of Thunder. He finally hears your call.

Pairing: God of Thunder Thor x Priestess!Reader

Kink: Agalmatophilia = sexual attraction to a statue, doll, mannequin, or other similar figurative object. (Source: wiktionary.org)

Warnings: angst, mentions of forced/arranged marriage (bond, not Thor), mentions of suicide, blood, attempted sexual assault/murder (nothing happens, not Thor), character’s death, violence, light smut, unprotected sex, creampie, pregnant reader, a hint of breeding kink?

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​

Kinktober 2021

“Lord of Thunder, my beloved God. Please lend me the strength to bear the bond they will force on me. I dedicated my life to you, to look after your Temple and your statue but now, the king of this unruly land claims me as his bride,” you kneel in front of the large statue, hands clasped together, eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry my Lord. As in my dreams, I will always belong to you. My love, my heart, my soul…my body,” you whimper as lightning illuminates the night sky outside the temple. “Please don’t punish me for their sinful demands. I cannot deny the king, my God. No man should’ve laid their hands on me but you, my eternal king, my God of Thunder.”

The air becomes thicker the longer you kneel in front of your God’s statue. His usually stoic face looks angry tonight, and you wonder if you imagine things.

“My Lord, I only got one moon left to be your servant. What can I do but spend it here at your home? Maybe I could take my life. I could cover the floor with my blood, give my life to you completely,” you dreamily look up at his statue, wishing he would answer your prayers, but a God doesn’t have the time to answer all of his priestesses. “No, this wouldn’t be right. I could damage your statue. It’s too beautiful to get ruined by my blood.”

“Prayers won’t save you,” someone spats behind you. “You will become mine in a month, woman. Stop praying to that ugly statue. I am your God from now on.”

“No!” you turn your head to face the man demanding your obedience. “You cannot speak in such a manner about the God of Thunder or his beautiful statue. He’s so—”

“Enough! I allowed you to say goodbye,” the king steps closer to grasp for your arm, harshly forcing you on your feet. “Maybe I should take you right here, in front of your beloved God’s statue. Do you think he’ll help you?” he pushes you to the ground, stepping over you to press the tip of his sword into your heaving chest.

Thunder echoes through the temple and you shiver while looking up at the statue of your God one last time, praying he will forgive you for being weak.

“Let us depart from iniquity and serve your God! Leave my priestess alone, foolish king,” a deep voice booms, making the temple shake.

Your eyes glued to the statue you shed tears of despair. “My Lord, my only king. Please forgive me for being weak,” you chant another prayer. “I cannot fight a king. My innocence shall be yours forever.”

“My little servant,” the voice purrs, and you swear, a smile appears on the statue's face when you crawl away from your attacker to kiss its foot. “It always belonged to me. I made you mine many moons ago.”

The king won’t let up. If he cannot have you, no one shall lay hands on you. He lifts the sword, smirking at the statue before he tries to strike.

“ENOUGH!” you believe you are dreaming when the hand holding Mjolnir strikes first. Thor hits the king with his hammer, smashes his skull with one swift flick of his wrist.

“My God?” you kneel immediately, head bowed to show your devotion and obedience as the statue begins to move. He leaves the pedestal, groaning as he needs to stretch to get the kinks out of his back. “Thor, my Lord of Thunder.”

“Little one,” he steps toward the now-dead king, looking down at the dead human. “You are safe now. No one will bother my priestess again.”

“They will come for me, my Lord,” you whisper, still not lifting your head to face the God of Thunder. “Everyone will believe I killed the king. I will die, but with a smile on my face, knowing you saved me.”

“None of that. Look at me, Y/N,” he demands, voice a little rougher now. “Come here. Let me have a look at you.”

“Yes, my Lord,” you scramble to your feet to run toward the statue. “Thor, God of Thunder. I’m your obedient priestess.”

“Yes you are,” he muses, looking down at you. “I should change, don’t you think?” he asks, lifting his hammer to the ceiling. “Give me strength all-father.”

Suddenly the room gets filled with blinding light. Lightning hits the hammer, causing the marble to crack.

You scream, watching the statue crumble to your feet in horror only for the most beautiful man to step out of the remnants, holding out his hand.

His gold-blond hair frames his beautiful features, his blues eyes shine, and he takes off his red cape to wrap you into the soft fabric to keep you warm.

“You are safe with me, my little one. I watched over you for ages. I’m sorry for taking your innocence in a hurry, in your dreams.”

“It was not a dream,” you gasp. “How can this be? You came to me in my dreams,” he carefully brings you into his arms, presses you to his warm body to hold you gently. “My Lord?”

“I had to have you, my beautiful servant. You are meant to be more than a king’s wife, or a priestess. No, you are meant to be mine, eternal. I can feel it, my beloved dove,” he lifts you easily to carry you out of the temple. Leaving the dead king and the ruins behind.

“This must be a dream,” you drift into darkness with a smile, hoping this dream will not end this time. “My Thor.”

“My king,” your voice trembles when the God takes off his armor. “Where are we? I should face the consequences of my love for you. I will take the blame for the king’s death.”

“This is Asgard, little one,” he purrs. “Your new home, the place where you will live with me from now on. We will wed soon, and I can’t wait to see you all swollen with my heir.”

“Your godly heir?” you watch the God press one knee into the soft mattress, cock bobbing. “My Lord, I’m not worthy.”

“Silence,” you whimper, feeling your core throb in need as he spreads your legs roughly to bury his face between your thighs, purring against your sex. “I chose you, my little one. You took me so well for so many moons.”

“I did not dream. We spend all those nights together, tangled in each other,” Thor looks up at you from between your legs, eyes sparkling now as he nods.

“You were so aroused that first night, I barely needed to prepare you for my cock,” he crawls up your body, spreading your legs wider on his way. “I knew you can take me, my little dove.”

“My king, my Thor,” hands itching to touch his skin you allow yourself to give in to your desire. You slide your hands over his chest, grip his biceps tightly, squeezing his flesh.

“Yes, my love,” he runs his cock up and down your slit, loving the way you shiver under his gaze. “…and now you will take me again and let me make you mine completely. I will claim you as mine, for eternity.”

Thor sinks into you, slow and deliberate to let you feel every inch he presses into your tight channel. “Oh, Thor. My Lord,” he fills you to the brim with one snap of his hips. “All-father, forgive me. I cannot resist your son.”

“You must not call another God’s name with me inside of you,” Thor begins to roll his hips. His large hands pin your wrists down, keeping you immobile to press moans and curses out of your trembling body.

The pleasure he builds deep in your core overwhelms your senses. You can barely keep your eyes open but Thor groans your name, forces you to hold his gaze, to watch him move on top of you.

“I know it feels odd to you, but you know the feeling. Just give in to the pleasure, my love.”

“Thor, my Lord…my king,” your eyes roll back, and your body gives in to the pressure in your belly. It feels like a tight knot burst open when the tidal wave of pleasure fills all of your senses.

“That’s it, my beautiful wife, my eternal bride,” Thor captures your lips in a heated kiss to swallow your screams. He moans your name, hips stuttering before he fills you with his warmth. “Now have all of me…”

“A priestess son?” Odin sighs deeply. “How long will you keep her this time? Did you not have your fill of women, my son. You must choose a bride.”

“I choose my bride, father,” Thor refuses to let go of your hand when you try to hide behind him, too afraid the all-father will punish you for seducing his son. “Y/N will become my wife, and I filled her with my heir.”

Odin’s eyes drop to your slightly swollen belly, frowning as you try to hide behind his son once again. “So be it, son. You will wed her in a week. I will announce you found a bride.”

“All-father,” Thor bows for a second before, he picks you up to carry you out of the throne room. “Let mother make the arrangements. I need to take care of my little dove…”

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[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.22

Obstacle

04/08/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,413

Warnings: angst, jealousy, marital problems, pregnancy, allusions to cheating (no actual infidelity), fluff, smug Loki

A/N: It took me SO long to get this chapter down. I wrote literally like a few sentence a day for a bit and then finally got some good chunks out. This has been a tough week but this chapter makes it all worth it! I hope y’all think so too. A lot of good stuff happens in this chapter, as in stuff that I really like. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work!

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other sites or blogs.

REBLOGS are always welcome!

The shuffle around the palace as Loki escorts you through the front gate is overwhelming.

It’s safe to say that judging by your reception when you’d shown up in Heimdall’s tower located on the far side of the city, the Asgardians are happy to see you.

Armod is also happy to see you and you rush to get into your car before you can get swarmed by eager Asgardians.

Loki joins you in the back seat and lets Armod gush over his happiness at seeing you back home and healthy. And pregnant! More than anything, the people are happy to see the swell of your belly.

Many of the women are crying as you step out of the car at the palace gate, the men cheering enthusiastically.

Some of the children have found flower petals to throw into the air and it rains white, pink, and yellow blossoms.

It's the small waving hand of a little girl with ebony floor length braids that tugs too hard on your heartstrings and you give in to your impulse.

“Armod, stop the car, I’d like to greet the people,” you ask, swayed further by the eager faces of the young girl's siblings who flank her..

As much as being Queen had come unexpectedly and as much work as it's been, loving the Asgardians has never been a challenge and you've missed your people.

Their kindness has always been the best part of your day.

Armod gives Loki a quick look but stops the car just as the palace gates are opening.

He pulls over to the side, putting it in park before hurrying out to open the door for you.

“Are you sure?” Loki checks, reaching over to place his hand over yours on the seat.

“Of course. I owe them this. I’ve been gone for so long.”

“If you’d rather go in, we can find an excuse.”

“Loki,” you laugh once. “Is something wrong? Is there a reason I shouldn’t get out of the car?”

“Not at all,” he assures you. “I just don’t want you to force yourself. I know this pregnancy hasn’t exactly been easy on you.”

“I’m okay. And I’m sure they wanna see the proof that they have an heir coming. Really, Loki, I don't mind.”

Loki sighs, but gets out quickly to move around and take Armod’s place and offer you his arm.

Taking it, you pull yourself out, and after a long moment to steady yourself on your feet, you turn to face your people.

A large number of Valkyries suddenly pour from the open palace gateway and you wait as they line themselves in front of the gathering crowd. A simple border of control to keep you safe.

The people don’t seem threatened by the guard either and they continue to cheer until you raise your hand and call them to silence.

It only takes a few seconds for the noise to die, leaving only the ambient sounds of the city, wind, and the shuffling feet as more Asgardians and visiting humans gather.

“Hello,” you begin, voice a little shaky from nerves. “I’m...I-I’d like to start by first apologizing for disappearing. And then for being gone so long.”

The people watch and listen attentively, hanging on your every word. As your hands drop down to your belly to stroke it anxiously out of habit, their eyes are drawn to it and they seem to rattle with excitement again.

Looking down at your tummy, you contemplate the little one inside and the kicks he gave you earlier in the day.

He's really in there.

“It’s been a long journey to do what’s been expected of me. Difficult, actually. Giving you and Thor what we’ve all been hoping for is a privilege though. It's important that you all know that.

"However, I'm not as strong as all of you. I'm not as resilient. As soon as I knew that I was expecting the future prince or princess of New Asgard, I knew that I had to take precautions. I had to stop thinking like your Queen and just for a while, think like a mom. I told Thor that I wanted to take some time away from my duties as Queen if only to make sure that my pregnancy would take. In order to ensure the health of this baby.

“Im so very sorry if I caused any of you any worry or pain by disappearing. That was never my intention and it makes me...I can only say that I'm sorry. I hope that you all can understand why I left. The The thing is I’m happy to say that my efforts weren't wasted, clearly."

There's a rumble of gentle laughter that flows through the crowd and breaks the slightly somber mood your speech is causing. You give them a smile and they smile back.

"And while that does make me very happy, it has not been easy to carry this baby. I have been sick and weak but after some rest I'm now feeling stronger than ever. With the constant and careful care provided by Doctors Wilson and Alric, I’m finally able to resume my duties as Queen with the knowledge that this baby is strong and healthy and my body can take the strain of bringing him-or her into this world.

“I’m so happy to be back among my people, my home. You all are my family and it fills me with such joy to know that I have made you all proud.”

The people cheer, more and more gathering along the street so that it’s now clogged and impassable. Others have taken to peeking out of windows from the surrounding buildings or finding balconies and roofs to stand on to get a better look at you.

Their excitement changes to trepidation at the look on your face as you realize that now is the perfect time to address what happened yesterday.

They’re so attuned to your mood that they quiet down again and wait nervously for you to speak.

"On a more serious note, I know that many of you must have been shocked by the lies spewed onto the pages of the Watch. And I'd like to be as clear as I possibly can about my absence from the palace.

"I only left because of the concern I had for our future prince or princess. There was absolutely no other reason for my absence in our great city. While it is true that something did happen between Thor, Jane, and myself--well, I will only say that now I know that His Majesty the King of Asgard is wholly devoted to me and our family, just as he has been from the moment he accepted me as his wife.

"Not that I ever doubted it," you lie. No one needs to know how bad things are and it is true that now you know Thor is devoted to you.

So, it's not completely a lie.

"As a people," you continue. "We'll need to be vigilant about the people we choose to trust to come into our homes. We will be more cautious now, and as a woman…"

You swallow hard, thinking about the words itching on the tip of your tongue to tumble forward and make your heart clear. Maybe it's not right to say it? Maybe it isn't the queenly thing to do?

You don't care.

"As a wife and a soon-to-be mother, I will say that Doctor Jane Foster is not welcome in my home. She has proven to be unworthy of the trust we placed in her and while her expertise is an invaluable commodity that I am sad to lose, I would rather have the second best than risk the stability of my family."

To your surprise, there are a flutter of approving nods and smiles, wives and husband's looking scandalized by the confirmation that something went down but clearly it was Thor that had Jane kicked out. A few cheers come but they quiet down quickly.

"My love for His Majesty is unwavering. As is his for me. No marriage can be without it's struggles but Thor and I are as united as we have ever been. Both in love, devotion, to each other and you, our people. Together we will strive to protect this kingdom to the best of our abilities and with this child, I hope we can begin to lay down proper roots for us so that everyone on Earth will know that New Asgard is here to stay."

The crowd cheers. It's deafening and your hands are trembling so terribly even clenched into fists they shake.

"LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!" someone shouts and the others fall into the chant as it's picked up by what sounds like everyone in the crowd.

A cool hand presses against the center of your back and you lean towards him as he whispers in your ear.

"That was beautifully done, Y/N," Loki admires. "Now come along. You need your rest."

You cradle your bump and the crowd cheers louder as you wave while Loki leads you back into the car.

As it pulls away from the curb, the Valkyrie turn to follow behind you. Faces full of stern pride. Their gleaming armor shining bright in the late afternoon sun.

The large wooden and steel reinforced gates of the palace close with a thundering clatter and you lean back, heart suddenly clenching painfully. Your stomach turns and you feel like you might throw up.

You shut your eyes and open the window allowing the cooling air to help drive your nausea away.

"Y/N? You alright?" Loki checks, putting his hand on your arm.

"I'm fine," you assure him, unwilling to open your eyes.

"Are you sure? Only, you're looking a little green."

That doesn't actually happen does it? Do people look green when they're gonna throw up?

You assume he's exaggerating, but as the last bit of the swirl in your belly passes, you look at him with fearful eyes.

"I'm nervous," you admit.

"To see Thor?"

"Mm," you nod.

"He's missed you. He will probably try and hug you. Might even kiss you."

"I don't know if I can handle that, Loki."

"You'll have to. The guards around the palace are sworn to secrecy about anything that happens in here, but with the amount of information that magazine was able to get we're pretty sure there's a mole amongst our number."

You look away from him, frowning because the last thing you want is to hug and kiss Thor.

Well, that is, you really want to do those things. Which is why you shouldn't. Not until you can be around him with some kind of rational thought and control over your feelings.

You need to get a grip and come to terms with the reality of your situation before you can let yourself love hum.

You have to protect yourself.

It turns out that you have nothing to worry about.

Estrid who had come before you with your things is there to greet you. A few others of the palace staff come to see you and you're welcome back with fondness.

Because you know you have to play the part, you look for him.

"His Majesty had a sudden summons from the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, my Queen. He apologizes for missing your arrival but he's had the small dining room filled with all of your favorites.

"When you are finished with dinner, he has asked that you wait for him in his study."

Estrid's tone tells you she's wary for you. She wants to make sure you're okay.

The disappointment you feel gives you away not only to yourself, but everyone there to see your face fall as you caress your belly.

"A blessing in disguise?" Loki suggests in your ear for just you, but the smile on his lips says he knows better.

"He'll be back before it gets too late, Your Majesty," Estrid assures you, trying to soothe your sadness. "He promised. There’s nothing more he wants than to see you."

"I know," you smile at her, then the others before you head for the dining room, your stomach grumbling in anticipation of the foods you know are waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~

Waiting is torture. You keep trying to read your book but your attention is pulled back to the door of Thor’s study every few seconds.

You groan, dropping the book onto the desk before throwing your head back with scrunched up eyes.

How is it possible to be desperate to see someone while also dreading it?

It feels like you'll die if you don't lay eyes on Thor but also like it'll tear you to shreds if you do. There's no winning here.

You gasp as the door opens and get to your feet in the same breath.

Thor's body is rising and falling heavily with his own labored breathing. He'd been running.

To get to you? No. You can't be swayed.

"I'm here."

His declaration is soft but heavy with meaning. More than just him announcing his arrival.

"Oh, aren't you a vision," he gushes.

"Hi," you whisper, only because you can't catch your breath.

He's wearing jeans, a plain black t-shirt stretched across his bulging chest. He's even more massive than you remember. Three months away has deprived you so fully that suddenly being in his presence leaves you hungry for him.

You want him so much.

"I've missed you, desperately," he confesses. "May I greet you properly?"

You frown, so undecided.

"Or not," Thor relents. "Forgive me, I just got caught up in the moment."

Why is this so hard?

You want to feel him.

"You can greet our baby properly," you give in.

A big part of you needs to feel him and this is the only way you can give in and feel like you're still doing your best to hold strong in your resolve to get some distance.

Thor’s eye lights up and quickly finds the swell of your tummy with recognition.

"Really?"

"I will never keep you from our baby, Thor. Even if I'm not ready for things to go back to normal between us just yet."

Thor takes a half step towards you and watches you carefully for any indication that you're not comfortable with his proximity.

You sigh, head tilted to the left slightly before you hold out your hand to him, beckoning him closer.

In three long strides Thor takes your hand and stops when he's only a foot away.

"Here," you gasp.

Your heart is in overdrive. Thor’s touch is doing things to your body. There's an initial rush of butterflies in your stomach and quickly you pull Thor’s hands to the spots where your baby is kicking in response.

Thor’s body freezes. He goes rigid. He even stops breathing.

For a moment you begin to worry that maybe you've broken him, until he suddenly drops to his knees.

He swallows hard, eyes pooling as he stares at the swell of your stomach as the baby continues to kick.

“They’re really in there,” he’s so choked up about it that his voice cracks around the words.

As he speaks, the baby kicks more.

Thor laughs but then leans in to kiss your stomach over the fabric of your dress.

“We really made her,” Thor gushes.

“Her?”

He looks up at you, confused for a second before he smiles wide, “Or him. It doesn’t matter. What matters is our baby is coming.”

Your heart swells, and you’re so happy that you could float away like a hot air balloon with the warmth flooding your limbs.

This is the moment you’d dreamt of. This is the moment that had been stolen from you by Jane and her lies. This is the moment that you and Thor had both been yearning for.

He’s so caught up in it, floating through the glow of this perfect moment that he presses his lips to your tummy again two more times before he’s rising, his hand hooked behind your neck as he meets your lips as he gets to his feet.

You’re so unprepared for it, so utterly lost in this sweet exchange between him and your baby that your lips pucker on their own.

He opens his eye and yours, already open, stare into his. He looks slightly shocked to find himself kissing you but he doesn’t stop.

Instead, his expression shifts into a pained look of desire. He pulls back, his hand dropping to grip your bicep.

“I would say that I’m sorry but I have been wanting to kiss you since the moment I left you three months ago.”

You say nothing, watching him, listening. You’re searching your soul to see if this is okay with you because it feels okay. Despite the sirens blaring in your mind about the restrictions you’d set for yourself when you’d decided to come back home, your body is telling you it needs this. Your heart is painfully aching at Thor’s touch.

You’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. 

“Is this alright? I can go.”

The idea of him going now feels like the end of the world. Rationally, you know that isn’t an appropriate response to his offering to leave you be, especially when you know you asked him for space for specific reasons.

“No,” your hands grip the sides of his t-shirt tightly, holding him in place without any actual strength since compared to him, you’re as mighty as a little mouse.

You refuse to look up at him, despite the crumbling of your resolve.

“No, don’t go.”

It’s an almost involuntary shy response to your diminishing shame at losing all control after his touch. After one kiss. You should be disappointed in yourself. And part of you is. However, that part of you grows increasingly small as Thor gently takes hold of your chin and guides your gaze up until you can meet his.

“I’m sorry, cherub. I will try and be worthy of you again.”

“I know,” you admit, knowing how sorry he’s been from the moment he realized that he’d done something that hurt you badly. “I know you are.”

“Can I kiss you, cherub?”

His voice is so deep, so alluring and coaxing that you drop your gaze again, fixing it on his collarbone before slowly you nod.

His arm winds its way around your waist and he pulls you to him before dipping down and catching your lips with his again.

He pulls away after a second because the swell of your belly gets in the way, but he laughs and looks down at it.

The pleasant sound of his happiness gives you too much joy.

As you begin to smile, Thor reaches down to press one hand to the side of your stomach while he pulls you against him again and kisses you this time with more fervor.

The longer he has his lips pressed to yours, the more enthusiastic he gets until finally you’re breathless and you pull back but instead of pulling away, you wrap your arms around him and fist the back of his t-shirt,

You bury your face against his wide chest and Thor brings his hands back up to caress the sides of your face, his lips kissing the top of your head.

“I know I may not have a right to say this, but thank you for coming home. Thank you for coming back to me. I thought I’d lost you."

His arms grow a little tighter, his heart is in an absolute stampede.

You turn your head sideways so that you can listen to his heartbeat.

"This is what I'd wanted," you whimper, starting to be overcome with the emotion of being reunited with Thor and things falling into place more easily. "This is how I'd wanted us to share this moment."

Thor sighs heavily, giving you one more squeeze before he pushes you back a little so that he can look at you.

“I’m so sorry that I robbed you of that. I was a fool,” he nods, his eye intense as he stares into yours with wordless declarations piercing into you.

The memory of your speech with the people when you arrived pops into your head and now with Thor’s arms around you it all feels a little like an overreaction. The past three months feels like a distant nightmare.

Or does this feel like a dream?

“Thor,” you begin but Thor’s lips are on you again, drowning out your words.

“Oh, to hear you say my name,” he declares and kisses you again.

Your mouth opens for him and you absolutely melt against his chest as he nearly dips you in passion.

He pulls back again, “Is this real?”

He kisses you.

“You feel so good in my arms.”

He kisses you.

“Your skin is so…” but then he hums and kisses you.

He dips down and with his arms tight around your waist but also careful with the swell of your stomach, he lifts you so that you’re level with his eye.

“I love you, so much, my cherub. Thank you, thank you for coming home. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I stayed away,” you sigh. “I need to be strong without you, Thor. I was hurt but I never stopped loving you.”

His face goes through shame, understanding, and then elation.

In a burst of subdued anger and aggression for what he put you through, you reach up and grab his shoulder. You dig your fingers in against the taut muscle then reach up to pull one of his ears.

You’re clearly not hurting him but he allows you to move his head, understanding the need to express your anger even if you’re not doing any damage.

“Never do that to me again,” you growl. “Never say that you’ll leave me. Why would you say that? Even in passing? You were so damn sure.”

“No, Y/N, I wasn’t. The moment I saw you, I knew that I could never leave you. I’m sorry. I could never even think those thoughts again.”

“You better not, or I won’t come back next time. I’ll disappear and you’ll never see me again.”

Thor takes your threat for what it is. A promise. Truth.

He shakes his head as he leans forward to press his forehead to yours, shutting his eye.

“I swear,” he begins. “On my life.”

He keeps you there, hovering over the ground with your heads together for a few minutes before he slowly lowers you to the ground. You realize it’s because he wants to stroke your belly and you take a slight step back so that he can.

He smiles, happy. It reminds you of the look your people had when you’d arrived only a hundred times as possessive and joyful.

Again, your speech intrudes on your reunion and this time, you won’t let him distract you.

“Thor,” you coax, placing your hands over his where they rest on the sides of your stomach.

“Yes, my cherub?”

He’s excessive in the affection he puts in his voice but you know that he must be floating on cloud nine after what you both went through when you made him leave you at your house.

“I-I did something and I’m not sure if it was right of me to do it,” you watch his brow wrinkle and for a split second you almost lose yourself in the beauty of his face.

Has he always been this handsome?

“When I got back I kinda made a speech? Everyone was so happy to see me and to see me carrying our heir and I wanted to apologize to them for leaving and for making them worry. I wanted to share in their excitement for the baby and with that stupid tabloid having come out yesterday-”

“Right, the article,” there’s guilt in his voice despite there being no truth to the rumors it printed.

“I wanted to put their minds at ease and I...I did confirm that something happened with Jane but not what they were thinking.”

Thor’s expression hardens just a tad and he pulls backs towards a large armchair. He grabs your hand though and pulls you along with him until he can sit and then carefully attempts to offer you his lap, unsure if you’ll sit.

You do, because you’re tired and because you’re not eager to be away from him again. Now that you’re touching him, you’re not in a hurry to change that again.

“What did you say exactly?”

Swallowing hard, you lick your lips nervously, “Um...I told them the truth. Not exactly the truth, but enough of it that they’ll understand that Jane isn’t welcome here. I said that the only reason I left is for my health and the health of the baby, which is true. I didn’t want them to worry about us because even if we didn’t reconcile, I want us to be united for them at least.

“But I don’t trust Jane, Thor. Not after what she did. Not after how she treated me when you weren’t looking, and the people need to know that I will protect them from anyone, no matter who they are to you or me.”

Thor’s face grows pained as you speak, his arm wrapping around your waist as his other hand caresses the side of your stomach. You’re starting to realize that it’s going to be hard to get his hands off it, but that doesn’t seem like a terrible problem.

“I wish you had told me that she’d been rude to you,” Thor sighs, taking his hand off of his stomach to stroke your cheek. “If I had known-”

“She wasn’t rude to me Thor, she dismissed me. I wasn’t even worth acknowledging to her and now I know it’s because she was jealous and wanted you back because what? She saw what we had together and suddenly it was good enough for her?

“I was in her way. That’s all I was. Even if in the end she couldn’t go through with it whether it was because she felt guilty for doing this to us or for lying or for having second thoughts and knowing that she doesn’t want to be Queen or a mom, she’s a bad person to me. And I have every right to protect myself, my baby, and our marriage from her. She’s not welcome here Thor. I never want to see her again. Ever.”

He’s cradling you now, holding you close because the intensity with which you're telling him that Jane is not welcome in your home is transferring to him.

“And if you’d known, you wouldn’t have done anything, Thor. You’d probably have talked to her and asked her what was going on and she would have lied to you and you would have believed her.”

He doesn’t deny it. He does look like it hurts him to know that you know though. That’s enough for you.

“I think it took her lying and doing this to us to make you see what she’s capable of.”

Thor shuts his eye, resting his head against your chest as he wraps his arms around you again.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, Thor. But you weren’t the one who lied. I mean, you didn’t tell me what was happening, but you weren’t the reason that this happened. If Jane hadn’t lied-”

“But she did,” Thor says, his deep voice anguished. “And I failed to honor my vows. You are my Queen and I should have come to you the moment she told me she was pregnant.”

You both fall into silence as you reach over to stroke his bicep. His skin is so soft. Touching it gives you comfort in a way you weren’t aware you needed. The more you touch it the more you need to feel it.

A finger stroking his skin turns into two, then four, then your entire hand is running up under the sleeve of his t-shirt.

With the way his hand curls around your thigh, you know that both your bodies are responding to your touch. Both of you are heated but instead of giving into that because you aren’t ready for that yet, you lay your head on his shoulder and curl in closer to his chest.

Thor sighs heavily, wrapping you up in his arms as he cradles you close.

“Now we know better,” you whisper.

“Now I know what losing you will do to me,” Thor agrees. “I’ve missed you so much, cherub.”

You don’t respond. You’re too choked up to say anything without your voice cracking so both of you stay like that for a while.

The cocoon of Thor’s arms is toasty and from the exhaustion you’re feeling plus all of the emotions that have drained you, your eyes are heavy and difficult to keep open.

“What about you?”

Thor’s chest rumbles with a chuckle.

“We can talk more tomorrow, cherub. Sleep.”

“I’m not sleepy,” you lie.

“Very well, then. What about me?”

“You’re sleepy?” you look up at him, full of concern.

He chuckles again, “No, cherub. What were you asking?”

“Oh! I just wanted to know if you’re okay. What Jane did to you can’t have been easy. Despite what she did to us as a couple, she said she was pregnant. You’ve been wanting a baby for so long and she dangled that in front of you like the rat that she is. And then she wasn’t even pregnant?”

Thor’s arms constrict around you as he pulls you up towards him to kiss you.

It’s slow and full of emotion.

“Even after all of that, you’re still worried about me?”

“It took time,” you admit. “Once I wasn’t so angry and I thought about what Jane really did. I hate the idea that your heart broke over her lies. I can’t believe she ever loved you if she was willing to make you feel that way.”

Thor just stares at you, searching your eyes before he rubs his nose gently against your own. When he speaks, his voice is so low, so deep, an intimate whisper. It burrows into your chest and settles right there underneath your ribs and makes you breathless with missing him and desire.

“That’s why you’re my Queen, Y/N. And she is not.”

You’re not sure if it’s an Asgardian ability or if maybe it’s something specific to Thor, but he has a way of making you swoon.

“I missed you so much,” he confesses again, that whisper sinful. “Did you not miss me?”

You nod because you can’t speak. There’s a lump in your throat made of both sadness and want.

“Was your bed as frigid as mine was in your absence? Did you miss my breath on your neck as I did yours? Or the steady beat of your heart when you pressed your breast to my back as you held me while I slept?”

Fuck, he’s making this so impossible.

“I hate you so much,” you counter, but his lips stretch into a small knowing smile as you take a tight hold of the neck of his shirt and pull him up to meet your lips.

He exhales heavily into you, tasting you, relishing in every pulsating touch as both your hearts ache and yearn almost in disbelief as if both of you can’t believe that these wants, these needs are finally being met.

As he pulls back to tilt his head the other way, he takes hold of the sides of your face again, his lips grazing yours, “I love you.”

Before you can reply or yank him back into that torturous yet blissful kiss, a voice at the doorway clears their throat.

“Well, that was fast, what happened to keeping him at a distance?”

Loki’s voice pulls your gaze and you can feel your cheeks and neck burn at how easily it seems you’ve crumbled when finally face to face with Thor.

You frown at your brother-in-law, while Thor ignores his brother and leans up to press very non-chaste kisses to your neck, “I told you coming back was a bad idea.”

But Loki’s smile is blinding and with one chuckle he backs out of the room, shutting the door quietly as Thor turns you back to him so that he can get back to kissing you.

[vulpes-nothus]

Things I Want to See More Of: Fantasy Setting Edition

Religion

Actual stories from your religion. Not even necessarily a full blown book of myths written in iambic pentameter; I'd be happy with just a quick summary, like, "huh, this reminds me of my favorite story about Njrgnblr, God of Gn'Blrs. You know, the time when Njrgnblr needed to fool the Grktndrk into thinking they were a simple house wife so that they could cross the River of Snakes Instead of Water?"

Reference based curses. "Gods damnit" or "Gods above" is weak. I wanna hear a panicked scream of "Frygg's tits" or "sack of the King in Yellow."

Rites that aren't just "what I think happens in churches" or "the Vikings doing track for Thor." I want to see some internal symbolic logic that translates into activities. Hel, as a pagan myself I fully recognize that most rites seem to be just parties that involve bonfires and wine, but if you follow the patterns you can extrapolate the difference between Beltane and Yule while still recognizing they both definitely come from the same practice.

For that matter, sacred sites that aren't just generic temples. I don't always want to go to Prayers R' Us if I want to find a priest. Maybe I want to go to the Blurken Stone where the Herp'd'Durp first grokked the true Blurk of Gerd. Or maybe I want to pay respects to the cleric by taking his body to the Sacred Ditch where the Wanderers roll their dead and kick leaves over them by the Wandering Roads.

Magic

More small magic, please! Like pinkie promises that actually fuck up your pinkie when broken, or saying a blessing to someone who coughs actually doing something beneficial. Just, more puny spells that children can do by accident.

Ambiant magic. Like, sections of forest that cloud your mind, undead rising as a response to not observing last rites, cats and small children being able to see magic... Just magic that just is without a spell or ritual.

More spirit involvement. It's gotten to the point where a wizard is just a guy that wiggle their fingers and make fire happen. I would love to see a fireball where a wizard calls the name of some Calcifur looking thing, whispers to it and points at the tavern, it flies off, and explodes while cackling. Or a detect magic spell that is less CSI UV detector, and more looking around and watching weird things squirm over swords and wriggle in bottles while chanting their purpose.

World Building

Less fear of technology and more understanding of it. Kinda tired of settings with blimps, clocks, and plate mail but no guns or wheelchairs to be seen. It doesn't have to be universal, Hel, there was a time when a samurai could have sent a telegraph to Lincoln before strapping on O-Yoroi to deal with the latest peasant insurrection. But maybe recognize what kind of tech would be developed alongside each other, like plate armor being made to counter guns or airships being reliant on there first being a way to capture and contain lighter-than-air gases.

Tired of humans being the only people with dozens of languages and cultures. I really want to see different elves with the same base abilities, but speaking and living different lives in different parts of the world. I want to see some orcs that live in cities, tents, caves, AND nomadic caravans, at the same time, and needing translators to talk to each other.

More animals. Not magical beasties, not just animals from our world (though that would be cool if there was more diversity to the imports... like stonefish and keas and capybaras and shit) but full blown new species of regular ass animals, like tree dwelling soles or desert squid or coral sloths.

More plants that aren't plant monsters or mcguffins. You can only go so far with magical trees that store souls, killer vines, and flytraps that can chase you before people just start wondering if your dandiLIONS aren't just lazy world building. But a bright purple moss that grows on cliffs and burns like fire coral seems like a real plant, and most cool fantasy plants (and animals and diseases, for that matter) are things that *could* have happened, but didn't.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By the king’s hand 🐍 XVI

Warnings: noncon/rape, violence/death, trauma, allusions to torture.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The king proves himself and the reader must accept her fate.

Note: Welcome back, King Loki. Y’all better be ready because our little mouse will never stop suffering.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You felt like you were suffocating, slowly under a heap of rocks. Your return to the palace was a blur. You barely recalled the ride in the carriage or the flights of stairs between you and the chambers. 

You were entirely consumed by your memories and their voices; Magnus, broken before the court, confessing his crimes. Thor, angry and brutal as ever, shouting back at the people as they cried out at their traitorous prince. Neither gave you peace; they were only trapped animals waiting to break free and lash out again.

Hal was a spot in your vision. His voice tickled your ears but you couldn’t answer him as you laid across the bed, clutching a pillow as you rocked frantically. As you calmed, spent from your fit, you rested on your side and quivered every now and then. The sobs would not come, only rattling breaths that seized your whole body.

Time slaked away like layers of ice melting into a puddle. The curtains were drawn back and revealed the shift of sunlight. A pale grey darkened to a dull slate and cast shadows around you, looming over you like the monsters in your mind.

You flinched as you heard the door, the hinges creaked and your fingers sank deep into the feather pillow. Hal greeted the king and firm footsteps marched across the floorboards. Loki’s figure appeared at the edge of your sight as you laid with your back to the hearth. He sighed as he came up behind you and sat on the edge of the mattress.

“You left rather suddenly,” he said as his hand settled on your side. You winced and hugged the pillow tighter. You hid your face against it, the feathers poking through and causing your cheeks to itch. “Mouse…”

You whimpered and curled your legs up. What had this man done to you that was any different than those two savages? You still bore the scars of his switch across your back and your only shield was the life growing in your stomach. It was him who had brought you to this; who had sentenced you to live as a piece of a flesh; who had exposed you to the barbarity of his kin and kith.

“Why?” You asked softly as you turned your head against the pillow.

“I thought… I thought you would want to see vengeance done.” He said sternly. “To see that I’ve brought those beasts to justice.”

You sniffed and shook your head. “I never wanted to see them again… I…” You shrugged and exhaled weakly. 

“I did it for you, Mouse. I dragged that animal, Magnus, down to my dungeons and cut his flesh until he did confess. I watched his blood weep from his flesh and reminded him of what he'd done to you. I made him tremble at my hands. For you.” He sneered. “I’d do it again.”

“You did it for you. For your pride.” You uttered. “You’ve never done anything for me or any other. It is all for you. They humiliated you, took your plaything, kept from you your pleasures. It isn’t about me, it is about what I can do for you.” You wiggled away from his touch, “Do not lie to me, it not only makes me a fool, but you as well.”

“Do not presume to know my will,” he snarled, “Do not talk to me as if I am your subject and not the other way around. And look at me--” He grabbed your chin and forced you onto your back, “When you speak to me, mouse.”

You blinked as a lump lodged in your throat and let the pillow fall away from you. You braced yourself for what he would do next. You remembered the noise of the hinges, the heavy footsteps, the metal against your wrists, the stony touch of loveless beings, the violent claims to your body. 

You grabbed the king’s arm and began to flail. “No, no, no,” You exclaimed, “Please--”

“Gods,” Loki said in exasperation, “Hal! Hal!” You heard softer soles on the boards, “Fetch Birger. Now.”

Loki wriggled his arm from your grasp and grabbed your shoulders. He pinned you down as you kicked out and clawed at the air. “Mouse, shhhh. Mouse!”

“No! No! No!” Your hand flew up and struck Loki’s jaw. He grunted and shook away the jolt.

He struggled with you until the door sounded again and there was a clatter of footsteps across the front chamber. Loki climbed over you as the physician appeared and touched your forehead.

“I don’t know what has come over her.” Loki said, “She has these… episodes.”

“Ah, well she is with child and only just returned from an immense situation. Her nerves are split.” Birgir rubbed your cheek calmingly, “Dear, tell me five things you can see.”

“No, no, no,” you chanted.

“Five things, dear. Five things you can see.” He urged.

“The-- The bedpost…” You wisped, “Y-Your cap… Hal… The ceiling… A chair…”

“Very well, dear, and five thing, “Three things you can feel.”

“Y-Y-Your hand,” you touched the back of his hand, “The bed…” Your eyes flicked back and forth, “The fire.”

“Great, great,” he took your hand gently, “One thing you can smell.”

“The wood. Burning wood.” You gulped.

Birger nodded and smiled at you gently. “Hal, my boy, bring my chest.”

“What is wrong with her?” The king knelt on the mattress beside you.

“I told you. It is stress.” Birger said staunchly and squinted at the king, “Have you…”

“Not in the last days.” Loki admitted.

“But since her return?” The physician prodded. The king rolled his eyes and glanced away tellingly. “And you expect you to be as she was after all that? Do you even know all that happened to her?”

“She does not speak of it.” The king huffed.

“And why should she? To you?”

“You tread a dangerous path, Birger,” Loki warned.

Birger tutted and caressed the back of your hand. “Alright, I’ll do what I can.”

“You have something which can restrain her,” Loki said, “That can calm her.”

“As her condition stands, not much.” Birger stood as Hal approached with his chest, “It is better if she is kept calm. You can burn lavender--”

“No, you will sedate her so she will sleep,” Loki ordered, “I’ve pressing matters and little energy or time for this nonsense.”

“With respect, your majesty, this nonsense is as much to do with you as it is your brother or his accomplice,” Birger insisted, “It will persist.”

“So be it,” Loki pushed himself off the bed, “Find one of your vials and do your duty. She needs sleep, not quackery.” Birger let out a long breath and tapped his fingers on the lip of the chest. “Well, you’ve something else to say?” The king challenged.

“No, your majesty,” Birger looked into his chest and stirred through the contents, “Boy, bring some milk for the woman.”

Your body was limp across the bed, suddenly without strength as you listened to the argument. It was your fault. All of it. If you could just control yourself. If you weren’t so weak and stupid.

“When you finish, you will go.” Loki neared the door. “And do not bother me on your exit.”

The king disappeared through the doorway and you looked up at Birger as he pulled out a glass vial. You saw the irritation on his face.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly.

“Why?” He asked bluntly, “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

You clamped your lips shut and stared at the top of the bedpost. Hal returned and handed a cup of milk to Birger. The physician mixed in drops of the tincture and sat to hand it to you. You pushed yourself up and took it from him.

“Perhaps it is better you sleep for a time,” Birger said. “Are you eating well?”

“Yes, a lot,” you assured him and sipped the thick milk.

“Well, you make sure you keep on. Rest as much as you can.” He looked to Hal, “See if the boy is permitted to take you on walks. You must keep active as you can.”

You nodded and swallowed the milk tainted with the odd flavour of the medicine.

“Is the king rough with you? As he was before?”

You shook your head as you offered the empty cup. “Not since…” You nodded to your stomach.

“Good, good,” Birger set the cup aside and packed up his chest. “Take care, dear. I will be look in as I can.” He hauled his chest up and clapped Hal’s shoulder, “And boy, you will keep her well in my absence.”

“On my honour,” Hal promised and followed the physician to the door.

You felt heavy as you laid back and listened to Birger’s departure. The king was just in the next chamber and you heard the flutter of pages. Hal’s figure lingered as your eyelids shut and you sank down into the abyss. You were smothered by a sleep deeper than any you’d known in months.

🐍

You weren’t certain how long you slept. You woke in a fog. It was dark but for the glow of the fire and the shapes around you, the furniture shroud in grey, seemed distant and yet close. You felt light and airy and your body felt detached from your thoughts.

You lifted your head and peered around, trying to focus on the chair before the hearth. A wraith sat in it and as you sat up, you realised it was the king. You giggled and let the blankets fall away from your shoulders. He glanced over at you and tilted his head as the firelight limned his features.

“Mouse?” He said quizzically.

“Looookiiiii,” you sang as you turned your legs over the edge. He was visibly aghast at your use of his name. You only laughed again as you stood and wobbled. “Such an odd name.”

“Is it?” He lowered his brows and carefully stood to face you, “You should stay, mouse.”

“No, I’m not tired,” you argued and gave a long yawn. “I feel alive!”

“You can barely stay on your feet,” he rushed forward as you stumbled and caught you. “Come on, to bed with you.”

“Wouldn’t you like that!” You snapped and wriggled in his grasp. “But I’m hungry.”

“You’re deluded,” he rebuked.

You laughed and continued to struggle with him. “I’m perfectly well,” you slapped his chest, “I’m just…” You looked down as your stomach brushed against him and your mouth fell open. “Oh, gods…” You rubbed your middle, “I’ve already eaten too much!”

“No, mouse,” you heard a sliver of amusement in his tone, “You… you are just fine.”

“I’m fat!” You pouted and glared up at him. “Why am I so fat?”

He barely withheld a snicker and took your hand daintily. “I have some biscuits. Would you like one?”

“I couldn’t…” You shook your head as you felt your stomach. “I’m already-- but I am hungry. Just one, just one.”

“Well, you must sit if you want one,” he chided. “Understood, mouse?”

“Mouse! Mouse!” You mocked. “I hate that name. I am not a mouse.”

“Alright,” he nudged you back to the bed and you sat heavily, “Then what are you?”

“Hungry. I told you.” You crossed your arms. “Who are you?”

He grinned and looked around as if confused. “It is me, Loki.”

“Your nose is big,” you said sharply. 

“Thank you,” he said rigidly. “Just wait here.”

He left you and returned with a small box. He took out a biscuit with currants baked into it and held it out. He set the box aside and sat beside you as you eyed the treat.

“What is it?”

“It’s a biscuit,” he said curtly. “Like I said.”

“Sure, sure,” you smelled it and cautiously took a bite, “Suppose it tastes like a biscuit.”

He was quiet. You flinched as you felt his hand on your back suddenly. He rubbed a circle there as you chewed and you clapped the crumbs from your hands as you finished.

“Good?” He asked.

“I told you,” you grabbed his arm and shoved it away. “No.”

He dropped his arm and nodded. He watched you as you balled your hands in fists. You stood and stomped like a child around the room.

“As good as it feels, no, no, no!” You swept your finger through the air. “But perhaps…” You stopped and thought for a moment, “No! No!” You sneered at him. “I don’t want your royal cock tonight, sir!”

At last he chuckled and you were startled by the noise. His features contorted in his mirth and you watched him with wide eyes. He stood and neared you slowly. He reached out tentatively and touched your arms.

“Fine. Not tonight.” He assured you. “But you must lay back down.”

“Why?” You quivered and looked at your body again, “Are my legs broken?”

He smirked and shook his head. “No, because it is the middle of the night.”

You frowned. “Oh.”

“So, bed?” He asked.

“Wait!” You stopped him.

“What is it now?” He sniffed.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. 

“Right,” he said and calmly led you back to the bed. “Time to sleep, mouse.”

“Hmmpf,” you grumbled at the pet name and let him lay you across the bed. “I’m not tired.”

“Oh, you’re not?” He taunted as you yawned again into your hand.

“No,” you argued and your eyes closed. “Not at all.”

“Not at all,” he echoed as he pulled the blankets over you.

He sat with you until you drifted off again though you were barely aware of him. You fell back into the warmth of the bed and the haze of your mind. The peculiar scene blending in with your senseless dreams.

🐍

You awoke facing the king. He slumbered beside you, his pale features unmarred by his waking thoughts. Your head was fuzzy and your limbs heavy. You sat up slowly and wiped the sleep from your eyes. The events of the days before slowly came back to you but did not hit you with the same force. You were anxious to think of Thor and Magnus but not terrified.

Loki groaned and reached out to touch your leg, as if assuring himself of your presence, as he stirred. You watched his long fingers as he squeezed you through the blankets and opened his eyes.

“Mouse,” he voice was hoarse as he retracted his hand and swept his dark hair back. “Is there something the matter?”

You shook your head and looked around. You didn’t like how comfortable you felt. You recalled his callous words the day before during your panic and all those times before he had been unkind. How could he sleep beside you as he would a wife? A wife…

You turned your back to him and evaded his reach again as you stood. You hugged yourself as you neared the dwindling fire and shivered. You heard the mattress move beneath him but he did not rise. You looked to the ceiling as you tried to clear your thoughts.

“Why won’t you give me an answer?” You asked.

“Excuse me?”

“What is to become of me when your wife is here?” You spun back to face him. He sprawled across the mattress as his shoulders and chest were bare above them. “I know this… will change. And I know once this babe is born, you will be done with me or cruel as you were before.”

His face darkened but he made no move to rise. He exhaled, a low growl, and rubbed his forehead.

“I needn’t tell you anything more than you need to know.” He sneered. “I will do whatever is best at the time.”

You gritted your teeth in frustration. You hated his riddles. You weren’t going to get an answer.

“My wife will do whatever I wish of her. And when I have a child on her, then you and the bastard will be of little bother.” He uttered. “And when you are ready, you will return to your original duty.”

Your chest knotted and your stomach grumbled painfully. Your anxiety mixed with your hunger and made your core a pit.

“And the child? I am to carry it to some unknown fate?”

“My child. I shall keep it safe.”

“And me?”

“You are its mother. But you are mine, first and foremost.” He bent his arms behind his head. “You will serve me before the child.”

You scowled in disgust but said nothing. He watched you and slipped his hand beneath the blankets.

“I will have a nursemaid for you. You needn’t worry for the child’s health.” He cooed.

“And my own? Do you care?”

He scoffed. “I’ve provided you with shelter, with sustenance, with a physician for your ailments. I’ve seen you well and I ask little in return.” He declared. “Remind yourself again that you are not my wife.”

“Yes, I am your whore. I am aware.” You hissed. “But you do seem to forget yourself.”

“I forget myself?” He sat up. “Oh, let us put things straight.”

You staggered backwards as he was off the bed in an instant. He seized your arm and you struggled with him as he tried to drag you back with him. 

“The child!” You cried.

“Will be well,” he snarled as he grabbed a hank of your hair and twisted your neck painfully. “Come on, mouse, you want things to be as they were.”

“Stop! I only--”

He sat and you lurched against him. He pushed you back and forced you down to your knees and drew you between his own. His cock twitched and hardened slowly as he clung to you. You pushed on his thighs and wrestled with him as he gripped your jaw.

“My patience for you is spent,” he spat as he shoved your head into his lap. “Open up, whore.”

“Please--”

“Let me give you your answer.” He bit out. “When you have born my bastard, I will use those parts of you unruined by its passage.” He squeezed until you gasped and forced his tip into your mouth. “I shall have my wife’s cunt and your mouth.”

You gurgled as he pushed against the back of your throat and slid down it. You gagged and he pulled you back. 

“Breathe,” he warned, “You don’t want to hurt the child.”

He forced you back down and you clawed at his sides. He moved your head steadily, up and down his length until he was entirely hard. You were dizzy and helpless against him. His groans and grunts added to the noise of you in his mouth and he clutched your head tighter.

He fucked your mouth until you were gasping and gulping around him. He wrenched you off of him suddenly and stroked himself to his climax, his seed stringing across your face. He released you and you fell back in a heap. He stood and stepped around you without concern.

“That is what you will be. Always.” He barked as he crossed the room. “Mine. To do with as I please.”

🐍

The days that followed were frigid and fraught. You could not forget that morning as the king’s former disposition returned fully. He left you in the morning without disturbance and you bided the hours silently, barely aware of Hal as he tried to cheer you. When Loki returned, the boy was sent away. He didn’t speak, only sat and stewed in whatever blight had angered him that day.

And when he wanted you, he had you. Hand, mouth, or cunt. You bore it and hid yourself under the covers when it was done. 

Another week gone and Hal announced that the verdict had been dealt. Loki hadn’t said and you hadn’t dared to ask. You listened as the boy explained how the jury and judges had found Thor guilty and condemned him to death by the sword. Magnus, however, was to be hung like a common criminal.

But that did not mean you would be without a villain. Loki’s moods assured you that nothing had changed at all. It assured you that your life would be as it ever was. That the fate he’d promised you down in that dungeon would come to pass. You would never escape him and perhaps, though you’d not realised it, your time with Thor and Magnus could have been your only hope at an eventual end to the agony.

You sat in limbo. You could hardly believe that they would die and yet, you feared the future beyond. For all the certainty of their sentences, yours was still frightfully abstract. You could not decide if you were appeased by their demise or envious of it.

Your inner strife was interrupted as Hal stood suddenly and you turned to watch the door open. The boy bowed to the king as he entered, clothed in fur and his horned crown. You stood and the king looked between the two of you. He raised his chin and looked down his nose.

“Get her a cloak and boots,” he demanded, “You will accompany us to the green.”

“The green? Why--”

“Gird your tongue, woman,” Loki demanded. “Haven’t you asked enough questions?”

Hal glanced at you wistfully but did as he was told. He helped you into the fur-trimmed cloak and you pulled the hood up as he helped you step into the boots and laced them tightly. Hal snatched up his own cap as he followed you and the king into the corridor.

You walked behind Loki and his guards, Hal was at your side and foreboding set deep in your stomach. You could guess at the event on the green though you hoped it wasn’t as you expected.

You came out into the blustery winter light and a crowd gathered around a stage erected over the white yard. Just before the walls of Boulder Tower, housed tight within the borders of the palace, a platform stood awaiting the executioner and his victim. You stopped short and Hal quickly caught your elbow and urged you on. The king peered over his shoulder in a wordless reproach.

The people parted as the monarch approached and you were diverted into the crowd of onlookers by another armored man. You went unnoticed as the king passed to the front of the audience and you stood alone with the steely sentinel.

A hush went over the crowd as the king stood with his head high. The hooded executioner came out onto the stage and waited by the lever. Armor clinked and announced the arrival of the criminal before he appeared. Magnus had only rags wrapped around his feet and shreds of clothing barely hanging from his form.

He twitched nervously but showed little emotion as he was herded up the steps. The hooded man came forward to wrap the noose around his neck and a holy man offered muttered prayers to the condemned.

You froze as you gaped up at the scene. It felt like a horrid nightmare. The prisoner shrugged away the holy man and strained against the rope. He looked across the green and his eyes narrowed at the king stood among the masses.

“Fuck the king!” He shouted and the lever was pulled suddenly.

The heavy body plummeted downward and all could hear the crack of his neck above their gasps. It was a sickly sound that made your legs weak. You saw Hal, close to the king’s shoulder, lower his head and a few onlookers swayed before they fainted. You felt queasy but did not waver.

You only remained as you were as slowly, those who still had sense, roused those in shock and dispersed. Those who had fallen were carried away by their companions and you still did not move. It was only as the king’s figure retreated that you were woken from your trance.

“Shall I have his skull boiled and brought to you?” He asked as he neared with his guards in tow. You shook your head and looked away from him. Your eyes stung. “Do not act as if I’m the same as they were,” he lowered his voice as he leaned in. “They would’ve killed you and the child. Where do you think they were taking you?”

You shivered and pulled your hood low to hide your distress. Loki let out a breath that clouded before him in the cold. Snow crunched as an unseen figure neared and another armoured man came up breathlessly. You peeked from beneath your cloak and king frowned at the guard’s frantic energy.

“What is it now?” He poked the guard’s breastplate harshly.

“Your majesty,” the man caught his breath in rasps, “The prince--”

“What of my brother?” Loki tensed and fidgeted as he glared at the guard.

“He is gone. He has escaped.” The guard announced. “He--”

“What do you mean he is gone?!” Loki seized the guard by the mail that poked up around his cowl. “How could he be gone?”

“It seems there was a plot. Lord Fandral and his ilk--”

“Fuck!” Loki shoved away the man and punched his palm. “Fuck!!!” He shouted and looked around at the liveried guards, “Well, you fools, go find them!”

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Chapter 21

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

THE NEXT DAY

THRYMR’S TOMB

“They’re here, my lord.” The messenger said from the doorway, awaiting his king’s response.

Kjotve chuckled and lounged in his chair, allowing his feet to rest on the war table before him.

“Of course they are. It was only a matter of time.” He went quiet for a moment, sliding a rock along the blade of his battle-axe. “...Is Gorm with them?”

The messenger’s gaze shifted to the floor. “N-No, my lord.”

The other man didn’t seem surprised. “I expected as much. That boy was dead the minute he allowed himself to fall into their hands. They’ve likely hammered his head on a pike already.” Kjotve sighed and set the rock down, leaning forward in his seat. “No matter. We’ll manage without him. How many people are we dealing with?”

“It’s an army, my lord. Both the Raven and Bear clans are here. They’re attacking the fort from the southern half of the island. Sigurd Styrbjornson is leading the charge. Dag is nowhere to be found though.”

Kjotve nodded to himself, quickly formulating a plan in his head. “He’s probably dead. I knew something was amiss when Dag’s reports came to a sudden halt.”

He rose from the chair and stretched his arms, resting the axe’s hilt on his shoulder. “Tell our men to prepare for war, and make sure everyone is ready. If Sigurd loses this battle, the power of the entire kingdom will shift, and his family will lose their claim to the throne. He won’t accept defeat easily. We’ll have to throw everything we have at him.”

The messenger bowed. “Of course, my lord.”

Kjotve began striding towards the door. “In the meantime, I think I should get a look at this ‘army’ for myself. I’ve never known The Raven Clan to be a formidable opponent, but they’re not an enemy to be underestimated. Keep your eyes sharp, and your axe at hand. This isn’t going to end smoothly.”

~~~~~~~~~~

MEANWHILE

THRYMR’S TOMB, SOUTHERN HALF

“Heave!” Sigurd bellowed, his voice towering over all the commotion.

The Raven Clan let out a unanimous shout and rushed forward with the battering ram, gripping the mechanism so tightly that their knuckles turned white. The wooden planks of the bridge groaned underneath their weight as they charged towards the fort, trembling from the footsteps of a hundred warriors.

Meanwhile, the Bear Clan marched alongside them and formed a shield wall around their allies, taking the brunt of any arrows that came raining down from the battlements. A series of thunderous war chants echoed from the sea of raiders flooding the gates, and within moments, they were already bashing it down.

“Heave!” Sigurd commanded once again, urging them to charge. The warriors took a few steps back and pulled the ram into position, holding it in place before letting it swing.

The front of the mechanism immediately broke free from their grasp and soared into the braces holding the gate together, causing an array of splinters to fly from the surface.

A few of the supports could be seen bending in the face of the ram’s power, and by now, a unit of Kjotve’s men had gathered on the other side, preparing to welcome the incoming horde of enemies.

Before Sigurd could carry out a final charge however, the shadows of multiple archers blotted the ground beneath his feet like phantoms emerging from the night, drawing his attention to the line of arrows growing above. He gazed upwards into the sun’s blinding light, and yelled another command.

“Shield wall!”

Upon hearing the order, the Bear Clan instantly got into formation and locked their shields together, creating a shimmering shell above their companions. A wave of arrows came bolting down soon after, and rapidly buried the army below under a hurricane of metal.

A number of Sigurd’s warriors were shot dead within seconds despite their attempt to deflect the attack, and much to his dismay, the battering ram suddenly found itself short of some men. The surviving raiders pushed on with any energy they had left and stepped over the handful of scattered corpses now littering the bridge, bringing the ram one step closer to success.

Taking advantage of the opening that followed the archers’ assault, the Raven Clan drew the ram back to its starting point and awaited their prince’s command, keeping the mechanism raised with a Herculean amount of strength.

“Heave!” Sigurd ordered one last time, signaling his men to rush forward. They tightened their grip and practically hurled the ram into the gate, shattering the remains of the barricade into pieces. Shards of wood violently erupted from the site of impact, and shortly after, the Raven Clan was storming the entrance.

“Find Kjotve!” The prince roared. “And send that argr dog into the jaws of Garmr himself!”

Barreling into the fort with a symphony of war cries, the Bear and Raven Clans began tearing through Kjotve’s men like a legion from Hel, cutting down anything in sight as if the spirit of Thor had possessed their very minds.

The sound of axes clashing rang across the battlefield like the shrill voice of a valravn and colored the air with mayhem, drowning out the agonized shrieks echoing from Kjotve’s army.

Meanwhile, Sigurd took hold of his longsword and jumped into the tempest swirling around him, butchering foes left and right in a haze of fury. 

All of his bottled-up rage, grief, and pain came pouring out in every strike, and soon enough, he resembled the man who visited Ingrida in her dreams. His eyes practically glowed with the sparks of a vengeful flame, and it didn’t take long for the god of war to start shining through his actions.

He no longer felt any fear; any doubt. The only thing that guided Sigurd’s axe now was the desire to honor those who had fallen. Thora, Dag, Ulfar, Eirik -- this was for all of them. This was to ensure that their deaths wouldn’t be in vain. This... was for his clan.

“Aarrgh!” A familiar voice shouted, causing Sigurd to glance to his side. 

In the distance, he spotted none other than Eivor himself burying an axe into the chest of an enemy raider, baring his teeth like a feral beast on the hunt. His eyes had been pried open by claws of adrenaline, and it was clear from the blood splatters staining his armor that he had already taken down his fair share of Kjotve’s men.

What the young warrior didn’t notice however, was the raider sneaking up from behind him.

“Eivor!” Sigurd exclaimed, dashing in his direction. “Behind you!”

The prince raised his sword in the air and slammed it downwards with an adamant amount of force, practically knocking the enemy’s head right off their shoulders. They dropped to the ground in an instant, and sank lifelessly into the mounds of snow.

Eivor took a moment to catch his breath, still processing the swift chain of events.

“...Thank you, Sigurd,” he said through labored breathing. The older man offered his hand and helped the blonde viking up to his feet, keeping an eye out for anymore men that may have been skulking in his blind spot.

“Don’t mention it.” He flicked his eyes around a bit. “Have you seen any sign of Kjotve?”

Eivor shook his head. “Not yet, and I doubt he’ll reveal himself anytime soon. He’s probably somewhere in the fort, using his men as a shield.”

“Then let’s make sure he has none to hide behind.” Sigurd stepped away from his lover, gesturing to the rest of the battlefield. “I’ll stay here and fight alongside our warriors. You focus on finding Kjotve. We cannot let him escape a second time.”

“Of course. Oh, and Sigurd?”

The prince paused. “Yes?”

Eivor’s expression softened with affection. “...Please, be careful.”

Sigurd returned the sentiment. “You as well, love. I’m not leaving this fort without you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A WHILE LATER

Sprinting across the reddened snow like a madman, Eivor charged through the war-weathered fort as he searched for Kjotve, trying to ignore all the chaos surrounding him. Everywhere on the battlefield, the young man saw nothing but men and women from both sides falling to their knees in defeat, quivering in the presence of death.

Their anguished cries blurred together in Eivor’s ears, and their bodies began to topple over like trees being cut down. Not a shred of honor or bravery graced the morbid scene before him, and instead of finding glory, he found no more than a desperate desire to cling onto life.

It reminded him of when he was a child. Everything was identical to that horrid night when his parents died, and the sound of Kjotve’s name only enhanced the vividness of the awful memories he carried. He felt like the exact same boy who had fled from that ruined village -- only this time -- there was no one to save him.

He was alone... and so was Kjotve.

Taking a moment to gather his composure, Eivor strengthened his resolve and firmly held onto Varin’s axe, marching directly into the hellish atmosphere ahead. Foes of all sorts blocked his path with a multitude of threats -- including arrows and fire -- but none were enough to scare him off. 

No matter how vicious their bite, or how large their shadow, Eivor refused to waver. He had spent so long trying to find Kjotve in this realm of ice and blood, that absolutely nothing would stop him anymore.

He came here to put an end to this war, and he would.

“Where are you, Kjotve?!” Eivor roared, prowling through the embers. “Come out and fight me! I know you’re there!”

Stomping through bedlam, the young warrior wildly swung his axe at the raiders standing in his way and struck them down one by one, stopping at nothing to find the man who had hunted him for all these years. His thoughts raced with the struggles he had endured to reach this point, and the voices of those he’d lost continued to sing in his head, urging him to keep going.

A primitive fear of death wracked the very core of his soul, but even then, Eivor couldn’t bring himself to retreat. A newfound defiance had been bred in his heart despite the dangers ahead, and in a strange way, his fear pushed him further.

“I will find you!” The Wolf-Kissed bellowed at the top of his lungs, lodging his axe into an enemy’s neck. “You think you can hide forever? You’ve taken my home, my parents, my sister, my honor! You no longer have any power over me!”

He carved his way through yet another group of foes and let out a ferocious shout, bashing his axe with so much force that sparks danced off the blade upon impact. By now, there was nothing but a trail of corpses lying in Eivor’s wake, and in the distance, he could see an all-too-familiar silhouette gazing down at him from the battlements above.

They didn’t move a muscle, nor did they say a word. They simply stood there in silence, watching as the tension in their kingdom finally reached a breaking point. The battle-axe on their shoulder was enough to tell Eivor who it was, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop when they made eye contact with each other. 

They both knew why the Wolf-Kissed was there. They both knew what he wanted. Even though they had spent decades straying from the fire Kjotve sparked all those years ago, they had finally found their way back to one another, ready to guide this saga to a close.

Strolling away from the battlements, Kjotve turned on his heel and began heading down the stairs, beckoning Eivor to follow him outside the fort. It didn’t look like he had any additional men in his company, and for the first time since their initial encounter, the younger man didn’t get the impression that this was a trap.

They were both eager to bid farewell to this lifelong rivalry. The Nornir had planned for this day all along, and soon enough, the ending to their story would be scrawled in blood. The only question that remained -- was who would provide the ink.

~~~~~~~~~~

OUTSIDE THE FORT

THRYMR’S TOMB, NORTHERN HALF

Treading carefully through the gathering storm, Eivor approached Kjotve from behind as the older man awaited his arrival, quietly taking in the view of the crumbling fort. Despite being outside its walls, the two of them could still hear the sounds of battle seeping through the cracks of its weathered stone, howling from beyond the veil of snow.

It was like a different world out here. Not a single soul disturbed the barren landscape, and the merciless weather had almost wiped out the scene of the war entirely. Only Eivor and Kjotve stood on the icy plates of Thrymr’s Tomb, and if they listened hard enough, they could practically hear the gods calling out to them, whispering in a tongue that evaded their comprehension. They were alone in this place, and somehow, the idea of that brought comfort to Eivor’s nerves.

They had an arena all to themselves, and that was just the way Eivor liked it.

“Here I am.” He announced, stopping in his tracks. The island’s river lay not too far away from him, filling his ears with the sound of rushing water.

Kjotve turned around at the greeting, giving his opponent no more than a glance. “...Here you are.”

The Wolf-Kissed took a few steps closer, careful not to provoke him just yet. “You waited for the enemy with your back turned to them? I can’t tell if it’s courage or hubris that drives you.”

A chuckle fluttered from Kjotve’s lips. “For all your flaws, Eivor, I know how much you value honor. You wouldn’t attack a man from his back.”

Eivor’s brow furrowed in anger. “...But you would.”

“A trait of mine that many look down on, no doubt. And yet, here I am, one step away from conquering the entire kingdom. There is no honor to be found in war, so I don’t bother with it.”

Kjotve took hold of his weapon. “But enough. We didn’t come here for idle chatter. You’re here for one thing and one thing only. Aren’t you, Varinsson?”

Eivor felt something spur inside him at the sound of his father’s name. “...Let’s bring an end to this, Kjotve. Enough running. Enough fighting. Just you... and me.”

“Eager as always. So be it. You’ve been a thorn in my side for long enough. I’ll gladly send you to the Corpse Hall. It’s just a shame that you won’t be able to see your father again, isn’t it?” He displayed a small smirk. “The price of honor, I suppose.”

Gripping the hilt of his axe with both hands, Kjotve slowly readied his stance and locked eyes with Eivor, watching him like a beast studying its prey. Meanwhile, the younger man began circling his opponent and held his weapon out in front of him, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The world around them was still with a deathly silence. 

It seemed as if the very heavens had come to a halt to witness the grand spectacle, and even the ocean itself had fallen into a trance-like serenity. There was nothing to distract them, or divert their senses, and the battle at the fort had long since departed from their minds.

The gods had finally granted Eivor his chance to reclaim Varin’s honor, and he didn’t intend to waste it.

Lunging forward with a sudden surge of vigor, the young warrior landed a number of blows on Kjotve’s armor before springing back and evading the counter-attack that followed, forcing him to roll across the ground.

He pushed himself off the ice and quickly returned to his feet, whirling around to face the giant striding towards him.

In the blink of an eye, Kjotve heaved his axe above his shoulders and slammed the bearded weapon down onto the snow, missing Eivor’s head by no more than a few centimeters.

The blonde viking jumped to the side and used the opening to swing his axe at Kjotve’s face, causing the blade to slice straight through the lobe of his ear. Blood instantly came pouring down from the wound and onto the fur of the king’s cape, painting the hairs with a vibrant layer of red. A handful of droplets also plummeted to the ground beneath, marking Kjotve’s every move with a fresh trail of blood.

As for Eivor, he carried on with his assault and relentlessly threw one attack after another, refusing to give his enemy the chance to breathe. Unfortunately for him, a man of Kjotve’s stature was not so easily bested, and the Wolf-Kissed soon found himself on the receiving end of a direct hit from the other man’s weapon.

The gargantuan axe bludgeoned Eivor in the stomach and sent him soaring backwards, causing the wind to be knocked out of his lungs. Thanks to his armor, the blade didn’t make contact with his flesh, but he had still been struck with enough force that his abdomen now writhed in pain.

He stumbled for a moment due to the sensation and attempted to regain his footing, only to be kicked back down when Kjotve jabbed the tip of his boot into his gut. The king then proceeded to bash Eivor’s axe out of his hand by punting it from his grasp, allowing it to slide across the frozen terrain.

“Heh,” Kjotve said with a laugh. “Is that the best Varin’s son has to offer? All these years of tracking me down, and you’ve already been rendered defenseless.” He tilted his head in a patronizing manner. “I almost pity you.”

In spite of the soreness now spreading throughout his body, Eivor simply responded to the taunt with a feral war cry and yanked a dagger from one of the sheathes on his back, plunging the blade into Kjotve’s foot.

The king instantly roared in agony and toppled to his knees, unable to ignore the newfound pain now clutching his leg. Eivor tackled him to the ground as soon as he was staggered and climbed on top of him, desperately trying to press the dagger into his throat.

Due to his lighter physique however, Kjotve easily shoved the weapon away from his neck and pushed Eivor off of him with a punch to the cheek, creating a small distance between them. Eivor took this opportunity to retrieve his axe and returned to his feet, assuming his original stance. Not too far away from him, Kjotve did the same -- only now -- he had been cursed with a limp.

“...You won’t kill me that easily.” Eivor panted out, his breath turning into mist. “I’ve fought for too long to let you walk away now. Even if I die for it, this war will end today. You won’t leave this island alive.”

Kjotve sighed and approached the wounded viking, using his axe as a support.

“Ah... just like your mother. Fighting til the very end. An admirable mindset to have, but one doomed to end in futility nonetheless.” He straightened his posture, clenching his jaw in pain. “You’ll fall, Eivor. You, your clan, your king... you’ll all join Varin and Rosta soon enough. And then, Norway will be united under one crown -- mine.”

Trudging in Eivor’s direction, Kjotve carried on with his pursuit despite the injury he had just sustained and prepared to finish the other man off, prowling towards him with bloodlust in his gaze.

Just as the two of them resumed the fight however, a sudden growl reached their ears, leading them to come to a pause. They diverted their attention to the blizzard surrounding them and fell silent, trying to peer through the wintry fog.

For a while, there was nothing. No footsteps, no figures, no movement. Not even a shadow. 

The environment appeared just the same as before, and after a few moments of waiting, Eivor began to wonder if the disruptive sound had just been a trick of the mind.

Before his doubts could fully settle in though, the sound of a raven’s caw abruptly pierced through the air, echoing across the land like a summon from the gods. Synin herself emerged from the sky and started gliding down towards her companion, rescuing him just like she did when he was a child.

Perplexed by her arrival, Eivor stared at Synin in shock and watched as she soared over his head, vanishing into the storm beyond. At first, he didn’t understand the meaning behind her intervention or what she hoped to accomplish, but once she departed from the island, it all made sense.

Out of nowhere, a pack of white wolves leapt out from behind the fog and charged towards the barbarian king, allured by the scent of his blood. Their fangs glimmered viciously with ropes of saliva, and their eyes swelled at the sight of their next meal.

“What the--?!” Kjotve exclaimed in surprise, brandishing his axe at them. “Where’d you come from? Stay back!”

Pouncing on Kjotve, the wolves overwhelmed the colossal king in spite of his attempts to fend them off and immediately started tearing at his flesh, thrashing him around like a rag doll. The growing discomfort in his foot caused him to collapse to the ground, and before he knew it, the feral beasts were feasting on him without mercy.

Initially, Eivor felt a sense of relief upon seeing the wolves finish his job for him, but after a while, there was a certain emotion building up in his chest that he just couldn’t suppress. The sheer amount of agony behind Kjotve’s screams was enough to shake him to the core, and surprisingly, he found himself beginning to pity the man.

Eivor hadn’t forgotten what it was like to be attacked by a wolf. Despite the fact that he had carried his scar for over a decade, the terror of that night still remained vivid in his head. 

He may have hated Kjotve with every fiber of his being, but even then, it was difficult for him to condemn someone to such a torturous death. Humanity was a trait often lost during war, and the last thing Eivor wanted was to lose his own.

He had come here to reclaim his father’s honor. To restore peace. 

The suffering of others was something he wished to end -- and it all started now.

Rushing towards the wolves, Eivor waved his axe at the beasts and threatened them with a series of shouts, hoping to distract them from Kjotve. At first, they merely challenged his actions and growled in response, but were easily scared off once it became clear he wasn’t backing down.

Waiting for them to clear the area, Eivor guarded Kjotve until the wolves disappeared from his sight completely, and kept his eyes sharp for any other animals that may have been roaming around. The wolves didn’t show any signs of coming back to finish their meal, and for the time being, it was just the two of them again.

As for the fallen king, he had been transformed into nothing but the mauled scraps of an abandoned feast, and left in a pool of his own blood. Bits of bone could be seen peeking through his skin, and his hands trembled both out of shock and pain.

Eivor gazed down at the ghastly sight, unable to hide his disgust.

“Your breath hasn’t faltered yet.” He said, admittedly impressed by Kjotve’s survival.

The other man whimpered, croaking out a short reply. “...You... you saved me. Why? D-Didn’t want the wolves... to claim your prize...?”

The young warrior shook his head. “You mistake my mercy for malice. I may despise you for everything you’ve taken from me... but it is not my place to carry out your judgement.”

Kjotve scoffed. “...Then... whose is it?”

Eivor knelt beside his enemy, looking directly into his eyes. “Wherever you go from here, it is the gods who will determine your fate. The only thing I can do... is send you to them. You’ll die as you lived. Without honor.”

He positioned his axe under Kjotve’s chin, eager to finish this once and for all.

“Goodbye, Kjotve. This world will be better off without you.”

Yanking the blade across his throat, Eivor executed the king in one swift move and freed him from his suffering, watching as the life drained from his soul. His body fell limp soon after the killing blow, and a final breath escaped from his lips.

...Eivor could scarcely believe it.

Kjotve was dead.

Kjotve was actually dead.

After countless years of grief, loss, and sacrifice... the war had finally come to an end. Just like that.

There were no cheers of excitement, or horns of fanfare. There was only the deafening silence that had been left behind by the dead.

Was this truly what victory felt like, Eivor wondered? Was this that glorious moment that had been spun in so many tales, and sung by every bard?

He didn’t feel like a hero, nor did he feel any pride. All he felt was a blossom of relief like none other, and the crushing weight of endless regrets. 

A beam of contentment was starting to shine in his heart now that Kjotve had officially been slain, and Eivor didn’t wish to spend anymore time on this forsaken island. The only thing he longed for was the warmth of Sigurd’s embrace... but he didn’t even know if the man still lived.

Wandering away from Kjotve’s corpse, Eivor left the king buried in the ice and allowed the gods to take him from Midgard, not even sparing a second glance. A wave of memories flooded his head as he drifted back to the fort, and for just a second, he could’ve sworn he saw his parents watching him from across the river.

Eivor had no doubt that their appearance was merely a result of the battle’s ordeals, but even in his dazed state, he was able to make out the faint figures of both his parents.

They were standing side-by-side, wrapped in each other’s arms and observing Eivor as he made his way back to the clan. They didn’t move, they didn’t speak -- all they did was gaze at him from behind the curtains of snow. 

It was almost as if they wished to tell him that their spirits were finally at peace. They had endured a lifetime of torment trapped in Helheim’s depths thanks to Kjotve’s betrayal, and now, they could sleep, forever in each other’s company just as they were in life.

Eivor’s job was done at last, and he could move on from the grief that had burdened him for so long.

“...I did it, father.” He whispered, watching as the mysterious figures faded from his vision. 

“You’re free.”