#so she can still drop-kick norn if she wants to

[axe-trio-commanders]

Ok yeah I've got to infodump (and im. late because I wanted to draw enkkioh in her new outfit but have been too tired so;;; have old art and more recent screenshots for now)-

I don't really have a main at this point, I really do have 3 (as referenced in the blog title :3c They all did at least wield axes at some point) that sorta rotate in and out depending on who I'm thinking about the most at the time, for whatever reason?

But right now it's Enkkioh and I've talked about her probably the least anyways out of the three (Zori (charr soulbeast survivor's guilt incarnate baby) and Seremnis (smol uwu sylvari necromancer with simultaneous god complex and significant self-worth issues that i may or may not be sending on a multiverse adventure to see new york) being the other two)

Enkkioh is the third commander- Zori was the first, the actual 'Pact Commander', Seremnis was the second because Zori went AWOL during PoF (which is. its own post tbh)- and those two sorta co-commanded before a while, but a little after the Icebrood saga, Seremnis sorta officially got the title.

And immediately gave it to Enkkioh, because heck if she's dealing with that.

So, by EoD, Enkkioh is the official, by-title Commander- though Zori and Seremnis are still working closely with her pretty much up and until a few weeks pre-SotO, where Zori is just kinda... vibing, and Seremnis is off on Multiverse Adventures(tm).

But! As for Enkkioh's whole. Story, and whatnot, she had a relatively normal childhood in Rata Sum, decent parents, found a very lost charr cub who didn't have claws for some reason and decided that they were sisters now, learned everything through two years of Synergetics college with that charr before backlash over the cool new claws Enkkioh designed for her drove that charr out of the city (and then personal story based grievances and a rifleshot through a certain counselor's ear got Enkkioh banned from Rata Sum about a year-ish later).

And then, she joined the Vigil, got another dad, nearly lost him (but didn't- I decided he gets to live, actually. Zori and Seremnis get a grumpy war grandpa by proxy.) Most of her contributions there, beyond General Vigil Things, is she's the one who actually does the story dungeons to get Destiny's Edge back together (which. Man did that suddenly become extremely relevant very soon after she became commander, huh).

The next two expansions mostly consist of her aiding and learning from the pale reavers and sunspears, respectively, so she's sort of off the radar where the main story is concerned- the main two plot points there that lead to Seremnis and Zori actually knowing about her, let alone trusting her with the title (besides various Destiny's Edge members going 'oh, yeah, that one. I like that one.') are... well, this whole situation, and also the Icebrood Saga, where she gets a bit more directly involved by demanding Bangar's head on a pike.

(She also did a... fair bit of proving in EoD itself; both Seremnis and Zori were trying to take a backseat for the whole thing, but they aren't... very good at it- and Enkkioh isn't Aurene's champion, but... she was the one to finish the fight against Ankka while Seremnis was. Incapacitated (planning to write out some scenes about that later), and Zori was too busy taking care of her (read; panicking) to help; she was pretty directly involved in most things after that.) In general, though? Enkkioh is Synergetics smart, will learn from pretty much anyone who lets her (She's a warrior specc'd into first spellbreaker, then bladesworn), got into jewelery because she discovered putting certain magics into stones could make her punch harder- really most of her scientific knowledge goes into, essentially, 'punching harder'. She's not really fond of knowledge for knowledge's sake, and is less likely to give you a ten-page thesis on why you're incorrect than she is to punch you in the jaw (or the shoulder, if you're a friend) and call you an idiot. She also bites.

...And yet, somehow, out of the three, she's still by far the healthiest mentally- she already was when she got the position, and after learning more about... everything, with the other two commanders, it's something she's at least vaguely keeping an eye on in the interest of not being hypocritical- though she's ignoring her own tendancy towards violence. Some people need to be punched. Or bitten. She could use her words, yeah, she knows plenty, but they aren't listening and also this is funnier.

(She will use every opportunity possible to terrorize Phlunt with this information. Yes Phlunt, she is a Snaff prize winner and one of the most accomplished inventors in the Vigil, and yes, she just threw a pen at you and told you to eat her mist-forged socks. Suffer.)

Tell me about your Main!

I don't know if the folks who used to follow me when I first started playing back in like 2017 are still around, but long time real ones will remember Commander Day! I did it for about 2 years(?), and it was a day I invited people to reblog a post n infodump/share pictures of their gw2 main!

I'd like to do that again, so please tell me about your main!

I'll start:

Titania Oberonn! She just turned 6 ingame! :)

My mesmer Commander, Titania is actually the reincarnation of my Prophecies hero from gw1, Tiana! Froggish, blue, bisexual, iconic.

[november-rayne]

Chapter Eight: Doubt

A/N: Loki is in new territory: self-doubt. Thor tries to talk some sense into him. Then he gets an unexpected visitor.

Word Count: 2700

Rating: Explicit for sex, dubious consent

*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+

*Minors DNI*

Tags: Thor being the big brother Loki needs, DUB/CON

Chapter Index

Thor was waiting for him in his rooms when he returned. “I see your head is still attached to your shoulders. Mother always did take it easier on you.” He smiled widely and motioned for Loki to join him at his dining room table. Loki sat opposite him and kicked off his boots. “I took the liberty of sending for a snack to tide us over until dinner.” He lifted the lid on the tray to reveal two bowls of steaming stew and a freshly baked loaf of bread.

“This is just what I need. Thank you.” Loki pulled off his tunic and threw it onto the back of the sofa. “Damn that thing to Hel,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck.

Thor chuckled. “Serves you right for not making yourself available to the tailor.” Thor ripped off a chunk of bread and dunked it in the stew.

“I know.” Loki sipped stew from his spoon. “Thank you again for taking care of everything while I was gone.”

Thor waved his hand in dismissal and set into his food again. After a few quiet moments, he said, “You had me worried when you did not return after a couple of weeks.”

Loki exhaled slowly, “I stopped keeping track of the days. I was acting selfishly, childishly. I have always been hedonistic, but this, this was a whole other level.”

“How much trouble are you in with Mother?”

“Heaps.” Loki shivered as he buttered his bread.

“You look relatively unscathed, so it could not have been too bad.” Loki squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “What? What is it?”

“Trust me; you do not want to know.”

“I do. Please, what did she say?”

“Just remember that you asked for it.” Loki shook his head again and set his bread down. “Mother let it be known that she and Father are still having sex.”

“Ahh, Norns! Still? They are ancient! That is a horrible image!” Thor dropped his spoon unceremoniously into his bowl and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Why…Why would that even come up in a conversation?”

“Oh, it gets worse. Apparently, Father is very good at it, ‘amazing’ was the term she used.”

Thor scoffed, “I am sorry I pressed you on the matter. That is an image I wish I could burn from my mind. Again, why?”

“She asked me not to bed Lady Sigyn and try to get to know her. She has it in her mind that this is a fairytale match. She was prattling on about love and how it makes the sex so much more worthwhile. Or something along those lines. I stopped listening after she mentioned being unable to keep her hands off Father.” Loki shuddered.

Thor was quiet, staring at his half-empty bowl of stew. He said, “Lady Sigyn is a unique beauty. I do not know if even I could have made that promise, Brother.” Loki froze, his spoon half raised to his mouth.

“What are you saying, Brother?” He could not hide the suspicion in his voice. The thought of Thor seducing Sigyn was enough to blur his vision.

“Oh, nothing! Sorry, Brother. I was just thinking out loud. I am surprised you agreed to Mother’s request, given your… appetites.”

“Yes, well…I suppose the least I could do is not ruin the poor girl for all other men before I bid her farewell.”

“Farewell? What do you mean?”

“Mother’s bargain: I keep my cock to myself, and at the end of one month, if I am not in love,” Loki scrunched up his face as he said the last word, “I can send the Andersons packing back to their lands. I get to resume the life I love and dodge the marriage.”

Thor was stunned. “You cannot be serious?” Loki finished his stew and sat back in his chair, waiting for Thor to continue. “Father would never let you back out of a betrothal. There is a signed contract. He would lose favor with the Lords in the North and most in the rest of the realm. There would be distrust of the Crown. It would be political suicide.”

“It would serve him right! I never asked to be betrothed! I never agreed to any of this! I will humor Mother by courting this girl, but I will not marry her.”

“Then you are a fool! Father is the KING! He does not need your permission to make choices for the good of the realm. You may be a prince, but you are still a citizen of Asgard. The King has your interests at heart just as he has everyone's. Lady Sigyn is the loveliest woman to have ever drawn breath in all the Nine! Father has given you a precious gift, and you would toss her away like she is nothing? You do not deserve her!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Loki stood and walked over to the fire. “She would never choose me. You, maybe. But why would she want me? She should be the future Queen.” He ran his hand over his face. “You said it yourself; I am an incorrigible rogue. Why would she marry me if she had a choice in the matter? She does deserve better. I am doing her a favor by not marrying her.”

Thor dropped his head into his hands. “So that’s what this is about?” He stood and walked over to his brother. “You are a prince. You are charming. You are handsome… usually.” Loki scoffed. “You have the capacity to love.” He rested his hand on Loki’s shoulder. “If you are half as loving as a husband as you are a little brother, Sigyn will be the luckiest woman in the realm.”

“I wish I was as certain as you.”

“Where is this coming from, Loki? You are the most confident person I know.”

“This is different. She is different. I cannot explain why. I was with her for all of five minutes, and I am completely infatuated. The thought of her rejecting me is gut-wrenching. The thought of her belonging to another man makes my blood boil. I want her to be mine so badly. Not just because our parents want us to be; I want her to choose me. But why would she? I cannot indulge in the daydream of her as my wife, the mother of my children.” Loki’s breath hitched as the image of her belly swollen with his child flashed in his mind.

“I do not think I could survive the rejection, so I do not want even to try.”

“Loki, give her a chance. You are not giving yourself enough credit. You are a very clever political strategist. Father even says so. Your magic will rival Mother’s someday. There is no one else I would want by my side on the battlefield. You are smart and the funniest man I know. She would be a fool not to fall in love with you. You promised Mother you would give this a fair go. It is the right thing to do.”

“Since when do I do the right thing? Hmmm?”  Loki shook his head and ran his hands down his face. “This is all happening so fast.  I cannot even think straight.”

“Loki, look at me.” Thor placed both of his hands on Loki’s shoulders. “You are not only my little brother but you are also my best friend. You would never want anyone to know this, but you are kind and gentle. Sure, you thrive on mischief and chaos, but you would never be cruel. You are a good man.”

Loki looked at Thor thoughtfully for a moment. “Damn, Thor, you aren’t going to kiss me, are you?”

“Ha! You wish!” Thor crossed his arms over his chest. “I meant what I said; you are a pretty great man when you are not being a little twat.”

Loki laughed and raked his hands over his face again. He was feeling a little better after eating and drinking the potion, but he still felt dead on his feet.

“Go lay down. Get some sleep. You can think on this more once you are rested.” Thor led Loki toward his bedroom.

“I am feeling a bit sleepy.  Mother’s hangover remedy must be taking effect.” He pulled the covers back and slid to the middle of his bed.

“I will show myself out. See you at dinner.”  Thor paused to look at his brother before he closed the bedroom door.  Loki was already dosing off; his pallor looked like it was starting to return to normal.

“Thor?” Loki asked sleepily.

“Yes, Brother?”

“Thank you for saying all those nice things. And you know, all the other stuff.”

Thor smiled and shook his head. “You are welcome. Now get some beauty sleep, jackass. You need it desperately.”

“Screw you, arsehole.”

Thor laughed. ‘I hope I got through to him,’ he thought as he returned to his rooms.

oOXOo

“Mmmm…. Mmmm,” Loki bucked his hips involuntarily in his sleep. He was having a very vivid dream. “Oh… oh, mmmm…” He gripped his bed sheets with both hands and rocked his pelvis skyward again.

He felt a warm, wet tongue slide up his shaft. “Fuck…” The dream mouth swallowed his cock with a moan. Soft, warm hands slid up his thighs, circled the base of him, and began pumping.

“Fuuuuck.” He felt like he would float of the bed if he let go of the sheets. ‘I hope I never wake from this dream,’

The mouth continued its noble work on his cock without relenting. A deft hand steadily pumped the base, and another occupied his balls. His arms raised above his head, and he gripped the headboard with both hands. “Oh, fuck…” Loki bucked his hips wildly as his orgasm exploded from his body.

He was breathing raggedly, coming down from his ecstasy, as he timidly peeked one eye open. The light from the sun was low in the sky. ‘Dusk,’ he realized.

He closed his eyes again. He was trying to slow his breathing and get his bearings when he felt a tongue licking him clean, fingernails lightly digging into his ass cheeks.

‘Wait….’ Loki thought, I’m not dreaming.”  His eyes shot open wide, and he saw the top of a brunette head located over his hips.

“Sigyn?” he rasped.

“Sigyn!?” Sera’s head shot up, and she glared at him.

“Sera!” Loki pulled his trousers back over his hips and scrambled to a seated position. “What the Hel are you doing here?”

“Was that not obvious, Your Highness?” she asked, raising one eyebrow at him.

Loki scrambled off the bed. His legs almost gave out as he went to the bedroom door. He was still recovering from the shock and, if he was honest with himself, one of the best orgasms he had ever experienced. Sera let out a pleased little giggle as she made her way up the bed to occupy the warm sheets he just vacated. She was gloriously naked; her hair was untied and flowing around her. She hastily pulled the bed sheet up to cover her bottom half but left her breasts on display, “Come back to bed, silly.”

“You… you cannot be here.” Loki swallowed hard. “How did you get in here? You were dismissed.” He found her dress discarded on the floor and retrieved it.

Sera pouted, “I missed you. You were gone for so long. I thought you would be happy to see me.” She patted the bed beside her. “Come, I’m not finished with you yet.” She smiled wickedly at him and pulled the sheet away from her shapely legs before spreading them for him.

Loki was frozen in place. Angry at her boldness but also wildly turned on. His gaze lingered briefly on the smooth skin of her shin and trailed up to the soft thigh. His mouth watered at the sight of her soft pink cunt, warm and ready for him.

‘So bold…’ he gripped her dress with tight fists, ‘Just a little taste, then send her on her way…’

He took a step toward the bed.

“Yes, come to me. Let me show you how much I missed you.” She held her arms out wide to him.

He groaned, “I can’t.”

“You can. You are the Prince. You can do whatever you want.” She gave him another wicked grin. “You can do whatever you want to me if you’d like.” She rolled onto her stomach and looked at him over her shoulder. "I feel so empty. I need you to make me full." She canted her hips as shook her as at him

Loki’s jaw clenched as he took in the sight of the perfect curve of her ass. So tempting.

‘No…do not do this…’ The memory of Sigyn’s smile in the sunshine flashed in his mind. ‘No!’

“Get dressed!” He threw her clothes at her.

“What!?” She could not believe what she was hearing. She climbed off the bed, ignoring her clothes and hugging the sheet to her chest.

“Get dressed and leave the way you came. I would punish you for being so presumptuous, but I know you would enjoy that.” Loki peeked into the sitting room. Thankfully it was empty. “Get out before someone finds you here.”

“Why are you doing this? Is this because of her? Because of Sigyn? That whore!”

“She is a Lady of noble birth! She is my fiancé! You will remember yourself in front of your Prince!”

“She will never love you as I do!  She will never fuck you like I do! She cannot take care of you the way I can!” She sank to her knees on the rug. Tears streaked down her lovely face. “Marry her if you must, but please do not cast me aside.”

“Sera, pull yourself together.” Loki kneeled beside her and wiped her tears with his thumb. “You do not truly love me. We have never even had a real conversation. I paid you for your company. Look, you are a lovely girl. You will make some lucky man a wonderful wife someday. I will always remember you fondly, but this will be the last time we see each other.” Sera’s breath caught in her throat, and she shook her head. “I always told you not to get attached to me. I meant those words.” He helped her to her feet.

“But I’m… I’m…” She shook her head again and wilted in his arms. A wash of anguish clouded her face, “I’m all alone. I need you. I...I can’t live without you.” She tried to wrap her arms around him.

Loki gently deflected her, “Put your clothes back on, sweetheart,” he spoke softly and turned his back to her so she could slip back into her dress.

She whimpered and cried as she tied her sash, “Please, My Prince? Please reconsider. I will be good to you. I will do whatever you ask of me. You know I will.”

“Shhhh. Hush now.” Loki was trying to be patient with the poor thing. He needed to get her out of there. “You must put me out of your mind. It is for the best.”

“My Prince, please? I have no one. I have nothing. Please?” Her tears started pouring again. Loki opened the front door of his apartment and peeked out into the hall. The usual two guards were outside his chamber, but luckily the hallway was empty. “Please? No, please!”

“Farewell Sera.” Loki passed her off to one of the guards and gave him a nod.

The guard nodded back and took her by the elbow. “Come with me, miss.”

Loki watched as the maid was led down the hall and out of sight. The second guard bowed as Loki approached. “The maid, Sera, is no longer in my employ. Do not let her through these doors again.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Loki leaned against the door after he was back inside his apartment. He took a few deep breaths and then looked down to where his cock was in his trousers, “This was all your fault,” he told it.

A/N: I put a dub/con tag on this chapter. Technically, Loki was sexually assaulted in his sleep. However, while Sera was employed by Loki, this was a common (and encouraged) way for her to wake him.

I do not condone SA in any form. This is a work of fiction, not to be used as a how-to guide for getting back into the good graces of your former employer.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Tag List: @gigglingtiggerv2 @superficialdomina @chantsdemarins @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @acidcasualties @muddyorbsblr @smolvenger @trickster-maiden @simone818283

Let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list. Thanks!

XOXO- Rayne 💚

[darkacademicfrom2021]

It’s very ambiguous

Pairing: Loki x reader (gender neutral)

Summary: You have finally come to age; your soulmate mark draws itself in your skin. You can't figure out who it connects you with, but, oh dear, you can only hope and wish it is to him. But Loki won't make it easy for you to find out. Will you both overcome the pride and fear that would involve your love?

Word count: 4.6 K

Warnings: a bit of angst. (English is not my mother tongue and it’s my first time writing fanfiction in english, so forgive me if there’s any errors, and feel free to correct them!)

Sighing at your reflection, you stared for the Norns know how long to the fresh image that drew itself in the side of your abdomen.

You thanked it was easy to hide; saving you endless mockery from your friends if they saw that. The vivid portrayal of who you loved the most, in the most ambiguous drawing you could’ve ever gotten. How ironic.

What the Heavens would that mean, you asked yourself at least five times until the impatient knocking on the bathroom door pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Hurry up, we’re late”, said Sif. You knew she was already all dressed up for the Ball, and she would kill you, seeing you were still on your robes. You opened the bathroom door slowly, with burrowed frows. You couldn’t hide it, as much as you tried to. “Oh, for God’s sa…” she started complaining, but stopped as soon as she realized you were in a terrible state of mind.

“I got it”, you explained after she made you get out of the bathroom and sat you on the edge of the bed. “I got the mark. Impossible to guess”.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ll know who they is when the time is right”, said she, comforting you and eyeing the outfit you’d chosen earlier. “But crytime is over. Guess what time it is now. Yes, you guessed right. The Ball”.

The last thing you wanted to do in that moment was to dance; or to stay in a chair drinking wine the entirety of the night, for that matter. You didn’t need another reminder of your frustrated attempts at making him notice you. And you knew he wasn’t the one (if he were your soulmate, it would’ve already happened years; no, decades ago). But you still couldn’t help but falling in love at every little smirk, every little comment, every little thing he did. Dear, you were lost, completely gone in love.

That’s why you knew you wouldn’t find your soulmate for a long, long time. At least not until your crush for Loki had finally gone away.

“I’d rather stay”, you stated, and she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I want to go, and I can’t go alone. Please, at least do it for me”.

“Why would you want to go? Ever since we’re on age of being asked to dance, we have only gotten invitations from… well, anyone except them. And in the Balls we can’t even be their friends”.

“We can be friends, if they talk to us first we can talk back”.

“Yeah, we could, but they don’t talk first. They never do”.

Both of you were completely lost for the princes. But, unlike you, Sif had a chance with Thor. She was graceful, divine, a wonderful woman; a whole Goddess, an amazing warrior. There was no question Thor would sooner or later find love in her friend. But you… why would a prince like Loki lay his eyes on you? Romantically, he never showed a single trace of interest in anyone, much less someone in his friendgroup. You were the closest to him, yet he never said a thing.

He probably knew you drooled over him. He must have noticed how you looked at him in the library when he read to you, how you always defended him from everyone else’s mockery, how you intentionally pretended like you didn’t know any better in spells so that he could help you out. How your heartbeat raced when he fell asleep on your lap. He must have noticed, yet he said nothing.

She finally managed to convince you to go, with the condition that if you weren’t asked to dance at all, or even talk, you’d go back to your manor early.

You got in your best clothes, and undressing the best attitude possible, you both arrived at the palace and entered the ballroom as quick as your feet let you. The ambient was marvelous. Subtle lighting, most of them by candles. The golden details that characterized Asgard so well were everywhere. Both King and Queen were sat in their thrones, waiting patiently for the rest of the royal family to arrive before giving the annual speech and getting the party started.

“Do you think they’re not coming?” asked Sif as you got comfortable in your seats, eyeing the entrances.

“They can’t miss it, they’re sort of the hosts”, you said, “but… well, I don’t know. The other day after training, Thor mentioned something about this year being particularly difficult for them”, you added in such a low whisper that Sif had to pull closer.

“What did he say? He didn’t mention anything to me”, she whispered back. You two looked like you were merely gossiping, if it weren’t for the lack of giggling that would usually follow.

“He said… he said something along the lines of ‘we’re expected so much more than before in these dances, they’re more than just for fun now’, and, Sif, I think he meant…”, but she abruptly interrupted you.

“Courting? Oh, for the Norns, they’re not expected to choose a partner now, so soon, aren’t they?”.

“Soon? Sif, they’re already at each other’s throats for who’s becoming King, and they have been for a while”.

“They’re not exactly competing, anyways. You don’t have to worry about this. It’s not like Loki’s the one winning” said she, earning a subtle kick in the leg. “Auch!”.

“Would you stop being so hard on him?”.

“You know I’m right!”. 

“You know it hurts him. If you think so, at least keep it to yourself, Sif”.

You could’ve kept lecturing her if it weren’t for the sarcastic clapping of the Queen upon seeing the arrival of her sons. You read the ‘you’re late!’ on her lips and the apologetic looks on their faces. But nothing of that distracted you from admiring how marvelous Loki could get sometimes. Just when you thought he couldn't look any better, he outdid himself. You let out a sigh and Sif laughed.

“You’re staring”.

“And rightfully so. Look at him”.

But no matter how much you looked at him for the whole evening, you couldn’t get even a gaze from him. He didn’t even eyed you from the distance. You would’ve even gotten actually mad at him if it weren’t for the fact that he wasn’t looking anywhere. He didn’t seem like he was avoiding you; he was actively staring at the floor, with the saddest look on his face. And Thor looked pissed off.

“There’s a story in there and I will ask for as many details as possible once Loki spills the beans to you”, said Sif, elbowing you.

“I don’t think he will. Look, it looks like more than a fight. He looks so upset”.

You could only wish you were brave enough to break the stupid rule of the royals approach first so you could take his hand tightly and comfort him in whatever he was going through. As you always did. As he always let you.

The music played for three hours. Everyone was on their feet, dancing away, drinking away and chatting away, as one should in a Ball dance. Everyone except you and certain dark prince you didn’t even bother staring at anymore. You gave up looking for his attention an hour after the dance properly started, and it did nothing good to your pride to have been trying for that long anyways.

Sif got her chance, of course. Thor took his time, but after long he gave up with whatever quarrel he was having with his brother and approached her decisively. You were past pissed. Disappointed. After another sip of your wine, you couldn’t resist and stole a glance to Loki’s seat. To your surprise, you met his gaze. The God of Mischief was staring at you, and he apparently has been for Gods know how long. He quickly dropped his head and went back to looking at the floor, now with a completely red face.

You soon realized he was even more upset than before, as he watched Thor and Sif dance. And then you understood. Everything fell into place. Of course. Of course he liked Sif. Who wouldn’t. That’s why he fought with Thor. That’s why he was so worked up. You didn’t even need to read his mind to confirm it. 

You waited, still holding your eyes on him. You waited for another half an hour, but your patience was already on thin ice and he didn’t look like he would do anything more, anyways. So you did what you should’ve done hours ago. You got up and left.

“No, brother, you can go, I’ll let Mother know I’m staying”, said Loki from his room.

He could hear Thor’s patience shatter in pieces from the other side of the door.

“Don’t be ridiculous, we can’t miss the Ball. Father will kill you”.

“It’s not my problem”.

“I think it is quite your problem, brother”. Loki sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for his mockery. Thor sensed it and lowered his tone of voice, insisting. “Tell me what it is, Loki. I promise I’ll try to help out”.

But he only scoffed and locked the door, to start pacing around the room, feeding his anxiety even more. He covered his arm with his palm and tried his best to make it go away. It’s just an accidental illusion. I’m making it out of nervousness. I need to make it go away, he kept saying under his breath. But it didn’t go away. It wasn’t an illusion.

“Oh, FOR THE NINE REALMS”, he kicked his chair as a sudden burst of anger ate him alive.

“Loki, let me in!”, insisted Thor. “I’m going in”.

“You can’t help me”.

“I might, if you just tell me what is it. You love the dances. Come on”.

“I do love dances, Thor, I’m not particularly fond of the weight this one has on us; not this year” he growled from the floor, knees on his chest. “Not with what I had planned, I can’t do it now” he whispered. Thor pretended like he didn’t listen to that last bit.

Loki had been circling around the idea of asking you to dance for the last few months. It was all he wanted; to caress your hand and gently hold you by the waist, to move at the pace of the music, to feel your heart on his chest, his rising heartbeat with every breath you took. He wanted you, and if that wasn’t possible (and he was sure it wasn’t) he wanted to dance with you all night long.

But now, he would have to court you and marry you if he did. And, of course, it was what he wanted. It was definitely all he wanted. But he knew you wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t risk your beautiful friendship over anything in the world. What if he lost you forever? He could never bring himself to lose you, in any form or way.

“Brother, let me in. Or get out of the room. We’re late”.

“You’re late, Thor. Must I repeat myself? I’m not going”.

“I’m kicking the door”.

Loki sighed, and waited to hear Thor’s intense footsteps get closer and closer to the door to open it just in time and see him land on his face. Thor got up off the floor with blood on his nose.

“It combines with your crimson cape, brother, no need to worry” said Loki mockingly.

But Thor paid little attention to his silvertongue. Instead, his eyes were fixed on his arm. Then, he understood exactly why he was acting so terrified. Loki covered his arm as soon as he realized, mortified, but it was now too late and Thor had already seen it.

“Do you need any other reason to invite them to dance with you?”, he said with a grin of pride.

“It's not them. I’m certain”.

“How are you so certain? It’s such an ambiguous drawing, and you haven’t seen theirs!”.

“They doesn’t even have a soulmate mark yet. They told me the other day”.

“You didn’t have one at that time either, it must have changed. Come on”.

Loki sighed and put on a long sleeved outfit, while letting Thor rant about how much he was sure you’d reciprocate his feelings. And Loki couldn’t say anything against it, because it would only bring ruin to everyone; to spill the obvious secret that haunted him everyday.

The fact that you lusted over Thor.

And it hurted him like anything else, because he knew even though you didn’t say anything. He knew he was the lesser prince. The one that gets looked over. The shadow in his brother’s spotlight. The always-prince, never-King. It hurted like Hell.

But there was nothing he could do about it. And now he had a mark that linked him to the Norns know who, but he only had eyes for you.

Because you were always there. You were the one to defend him against his own insecurities, and everyone else’s accusations. The one to laugh the loudest at his jokes, the one to hold him the tightest when you were in fear, the one to call him first to anything. And you were perfect. But you, for obvious reasons, didn’t think the same of him. You thought the world of him, but not in the way he wished.

And he wouldn’t even get to see you happy from someone else’s love, because his brother didn’t even have eyes for you. The idiot of Thor could not see your brightness, and Loki wondered how could anyone not fall in love with you.

“You need to try, Loki, you’ll never know if you don’t risk a little”.

“A little? To you this is a little? Do you have any idea what would happen to me if I lost them forever? If the person that I love the most leaves me because I just decided to stop hiding my feelings?”, yelled Loki, completely angered.

“Ah, there it is. If I decided to stop hiding my feelings”, repeated Thor, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean?!”.

“You are afraid; so incredibly afraid of letting anyone know you fully. That is your problem, Loki. They’ll accept you no matter what, because they already know you. You think you’re hiding, well, you’re not so good with this little lie of yours”, said finally Thor, tired of biting his tongue about it.

“You know nothing about their feelings”.

“I know enough”.

“Believe me, you don’t. And you don’t get to say a word about my love life, or anything about this situation, for that matter. You don’t get to make light of my situation, as you do with everything regarding me. Now, leave. Me. Alone”.

They continued fighting about it until one of their tutors had enough of their unpunctuality and came to look for them. Both entered the ballroom still highly upset at each other and said nothing about it all night. Frigga knew exactly what they were talking about, and didn’t make too much of a fuss about the delay in their arrival.

Loki tried to not look at you in the entirety of the night; avoided all the eye contact he could with anyone, specially you. He was too afraid you’d choose that exact time to practice your special abilities at mind reading (since you’ve done this at previous dances, when Loki didn’t approach you), and if he didn’t see you, you couldn’t do it. Because if you dared reading his mind you’d only find yourself. And in those little moments he got to glance at you, while you were distracted with something else, he sank in sadness, because all he wanted was to embrace you and dance with you. You looked as fantastic as you always were and more. You looked especially excellent. And it didn’t go unnoticed to him that you looked annoyed. From the eye-sided glances he got to steal from you, he saw you staring at the seat he and his brother were in. You were expectant. You wanted to be taken out to dance. And Loki’s suspicions about your crush on Thor only got reassured when he asked Sif for a dance and you looked the most annoyed you’d ever looked in ages.

You left the dance early. After about ten minutes Loki decided to go after you. Outside of the ballroom you could still be a friend; that was the whole point of swallowing his feelings. He wandered the palace until he heard fireballs collapsing against the huge walls of your typical training spot, but he lingered his entrance to observe you in an incredibly angry state of your magic.

“You’ll set the palace on fire” said a gut-wrenching familiar voice. Of course Thor was there. Of course Thor would get earlier to comfort you in something that he destroyed.

“Then so be it”, you answered with a crack in your voice. Loki didn’t mean to invade your privacy, but he couldn’t help himself but to listen.

“I know why you’re upset. Believe me, it upsets me too”.

“You have no idea what upsets me”, you answered, and Thor chuckled. Loki could sense that Thor was thinking about how similar you and Loki were. You threw another fireball against the wall.

“Let me guess”.

“Enlighten me, your majesty”.

“You didn’t get to dance with the man you like”.

“You know nothing about the man I like”.

“When will you all stop treating me as if I were blind? Come on, why won’t you tell me? I’m your friend. I know you’re burning up in love and you still think you don’t have a chance because… because what? Because he’s the prince of Asgard?” said Thor. You stopped your magic and stared at him with teary eyes.

“Because the prince of Asgard I love, is in love with Sif. And there’s nothing I can do about it” you answered. Loki’s heart broke. Hearing you admit your raw feelings to Thor that way, and Thor not even understanding you were talking about him.

“What makes you think he’s in love with Sif?!” insisted, still clueless.

But Loki didn’t need to hear any more of that. He ran through the halls of the palace until he got to lock himself in his room.

“What makes you think he’s in love with Sif?!”, Thor asked, and you scoffed. You lowered your gaze to the floor, trying to make the tears go unnoticed. They didn’t, and Thor hugged you tightly.

Thor was almost like a brother to you. You grew up together, but it was more than that. You were always for each other. He never had to ask about your love for Loki, he always knew. And you never had to ask about his crush in Sif; it was transparent. So you both supported each other. You didn’t even bother telling him how she felt about him, it was bound to happen. Now, you and Loki, on the other hand…

“He is, you can’t deny it”.

“I’m denying it, I assure you”. You wiped your tears away and touched your mark over your clothes. He smiled. “You got the mark, didn’t you?”.

“Yeah”.

“What is it?”.

“Ugh, it doesn’t matter. Maybe I should just forget him and start looking for my soulmate. If the mark showed up today, then it must be for something. There has to be a reason”. Thor nodded, still smiling. “What are you so happy about, dumbass? My heart’s broken".

“Nothing. You keep on looking. Can I see it?”, said he, patting your back.

“It’s too ambiguous, you won’t guess it”.

“So I expected”.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you know anything?”.

“Nothing whatsoever”.

You got in your fighting position. Loki bent down in his seat, focusing on the next fight. He was sure you’d win; he has been teaching you new moves and you completely mastered them. And your rival didn’t know any better, anyways.

One kick from your opponent; you avoided it and threw a punch. Another kick. Another punch. The rival grabbed your leg, making you lose your balance and almost fall down, but you used that impulse to push him away and get him to the ground. He got up and started using magic. A blue light shone around him and started getting closer to your feet. You closed your eyes and focused intensely; soon, water drops started emerging from the tips of your fingers. They quickly transformed into a stream of water that wrapped your opponent from head to toes, making his electricity magic attack him, instead of you. Loki smiled.

Your rival pushed further his strength and one of the electrified waterjets hit your leg. You fell to the ground with a scream. It hurted, a lot. Loki gasped and Thor had to grab his shoulder to remind him it was just a training fight. For his tranquility, you got up on your feet soon and started using your magic again.

An aura of sparks and wind formed around you while you closed your fists, extremely concentrated. Your opponent waited without attacking, but behind the shield of his armour. Loki saw Thor smile proudly; this was the part he taught you. For your fire side of your powers, Thor was the one to train you thoroughly. Loki sighed, frustrated because you haven’t yet shown what Loki had taught you with such enthusiasm. He still observed you with attention.

“This part is awesome, look, brother”, whispered Thor in his ear, which only made him angrier.

“I’m sure it is. They is awesome. And wait until you see what I taught them”. Thor chuckled.

“No need for jealousy, Loki. They’s all yours”. Loki rolled his eyes and directed his attention to the fight again.

The sparks and wind grew bigger and bigger around you, circling your whole body. Once the sparks became fire, you directed your whole energy to your opponent, sending him against the wall. If it weren’t for the gigant fire-proof shield, he would’ve gotten completely roasted.

You put your guard down, and as you did so, the wind and fire around you dispersed. Loki got to see you again once the magic flew down, and realized you had your clothes slightly lifted up. He tried not to look out of respect, but Thor gasped, and that drew his attention directly to what surprised his brother. And it did not disappoint. Loki’s chest got as tight as it has ever been. His breathing became irregular and unsteady, and his face got completely red. You didn’t notice your shirt had lifted up, so you didn’t realize what was going on. You got closer to your defeated rival and shaked his hand.

“You win. I see you’ve been well trained”, he said.

“I have”, you answered, and directed your gaze to the princes who were watching the fight. You walked closer to them to chatter, as you always did, but Loki got up fast and ran out of the training room. Thor told you to follow him, and Loki heard your footsteps behind him for the entirety of the hall, until you two got to the gardens.

Loki was shaking. He didn’t want you to be there. He didn’t want you to see him that vulnerable. And you knew it, so you didn’t get closer than two meters apart.

“Loki”, you said after a while, behind his back. “What’s wrong?”.

He turned around, face still red. He was usually cold, but at that moment he was burning up inside and out. Maybe he was burning out of love for you. Maybe out of anger, for being so pessimistic and making himself a martyr when his brother was clearly right. Maybe out of rage to himself, for waiting so long to make a move and losing so much time lost in his own head. But you were still standing there, concerned. And he had to say something, because you still didn’t know anything.

“I saw your mark”, he stated. Now you were the one with the red face.

“Oh… I, I don’t, uh…”, you stuttered, and he got closer to you. He grabbed both of your hands and you looked at him in the eyes, clueless. “I try not to give it that much attention”.

“Why?”, he asked. “It’s your soulmate. The person you’ll love the most”.

“I already love someone” you said, in a burst of confidence. Loki swallowed in nervousness. Your hands started to get sweaty. “I… ugh. Sorry. I don’t want to say…”.

“Who? Tell me, I’m your best friend”.

“I don’t want you to be”, you finally said. “It’s you, Loki. It’s always been you. I don’t care about this stupid soulmate mark, because I know I’m in love with you and I always have been”.

Loki stayed silent, which only made your anxiety increase. He finally looked at you in the eyes and formed a subtle smile.

“I thought you loved Thor”.

“What? Why would I…?”.

“I heard you after the Ball; you said the prince you love was in love with Sif”.

“Yeah, you”.

“I’m… what? I’m not… I’m not in love with Sif, darling”.

Your heart stirred, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the pet name he just gave you, or the fact that you got it all wrong. He wasn’t in love with Sif?

“I’m sorry, did we both think…?”.

“We’re idiots, apparently”.

You both laughed. That was it; that cotidianity, that normality that felt, even in the most embarrassing and intense moments, completely fine. Because you were, before anything, friends.

You hugged him. He returned the hug and caressed your neck and back with one hand. You felt his heartbeat rise, and from that position, he whispered in your ear with that beautifully deep and raspy voice; “I saw your mark”.

“I don’t care about it. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, ignore my feelings if necessary. But my heart only beats for you”, you whispered back. He sank his nose on the crook of your neck and felt his mouth form a smile against your skin. You shivered and felt warmth in your stomach.

“I don’t want to ignore your feelings”.

“I love you”, you said once again, regretting it in that instant. You couldn't stop your words from falling out of your mouth. You felt like you sounded desperate.

“I love you too, my dear”.

You, in shock, looked at him in the eyes. He kept smiling, and putting a strand of your hair behind an ear, placed a small kiss on your red cheek.

“I don’t know what to do next. I like being your friend”, you said. “And I don’t think we’re meant to be. I got a mark, and you haven’t, so it’s obvious we won’t end up together anyways. And I want you by my side for all my life; even if it’s just as a friend, you know? I don’t want to lose you”. Loki chuckled at your rant. “What?”.

“What makes you think I didn’t get my mark yet?”.

“Well, I… I don’t know. Did you?”.

“Yes”.

“What does it look like?”.

He smiled.

“It’s very ambiguous”, said he, sarcastically.

“Hard to guess, is it?” you chuckled, realizing what was going on. Loki lifted his sleeve, uncovering an identical soulmate mark to yours.

“Hard to guess, yet so obvious”, he said. He grabbed your waist and neck and both melted in a long, desired kiss. You sank your fingers in his hair, caressing his scalp. “Yours?”

“It’s very ambiguous too, you know?”.

[urimaginespimp]

Breathe (This love pt. 5)

Bucky x Reader

Set during Endgame

Look out for: Stubborn dad Thor, and 40s Bucky.

--------

Previous Chapter

--------

None of you thought it was going to end that way.

When Carol, a new friend of yours, found Tony in space with one of Thanos’ daughters, there was a spark of hope within you. But when your adoptive father chopped the titan’s head off out of rage, you knew you had to go back to the people who might be able tell you what’s next.

To visitors, the Norns’ cave felt eerie. But stepping in it for the first time after Thor took you under his care, it still felt like home. You could already feel the Norns’ presence despite not being submerged in the pool of water.

You smile at the memory of how they have the reputation of being cruel and torturous to anyone they possess, when they have never been less than gentle to you. Dipping your right leg first, you instantly felt how they made the water warmer. Walking into the middle, you waited for them to enter your consciousness.

Taking a deep breath, you laid yourself back and relaxed enough for your body to start floating on water. Then you felt them.

“We’ve been expecting you, child.” Your voice blended with theirs once they spoke up.

I’ve been meaning to visit you. I’m sorry I didn’t go sooner. You replied in your thoughts.

“You feel... broken.”

A titan got hold of the stones and snapped the universe’s population in half. I- I lost most of my family.

“We know. And now you’re here because your heart cannot rest.”

What can you tell me?

“There is a man...”

Of course, there is. You caught yourself thinking. There was a pang in your chest when you remembered how amused you were when one of your Midgardian friends rolled her eyes and said that phrase.

“Now is not the time, Y/N.” They snapped at you.

Sorry. Please continue.

“The man is stuck in a realm in Midgard, and he’s on his way.”

There is a realm within the Midgard realm? Confusion laced your thoughts.

“But remember child, it is not until resentment within your family is put aside, that you would have even an ounce of chance to fix everything.” You think back to how Stark still isn’t speaking to anyone of you. Yiu haven’t heard from him for years now.

How can I fix us?

“You can’t meddle in this one Y/N. It is only with time that the rough patch would heal.” you sighed in frustration but found yourself agreeing. If it’s for the best, then you’ll let time take its course.

“Now, you are banned from leaving the cave until you tell us about this Bucky that’s plaguing your mind.”

--------

When you were first introduced you as Thor’s adopted daughter to the Asgardians, they were polite but you could feel that they were still unsure of you. But with spending time with helping them fish and being patient enough to teach them the Midgardian lifestyle, they now treated you as their own princess despite not being of royal blood. But since Thanos, Thor has been more distant – leaving responsibilities to you and Val.

For five years, you tried to appear as if you were doing better than most. And after taking time to just wallow in sadness for a while, you finally started visiting Nat and Steve from time to time. You were glad to hear that Steve was going to therapy, and you know he means well when he drops hints that you should go with him and join his sessions, but you always gave lame excuses, and often diverted away from any topic that would involve Bucky.

Nat however, has never been one to shy away from calling you out. “I know there’s a part of you that still blames yourself for not bending his blood and brains out.” she once confronted you when you were lounging on the couch, day drinking and eating sandwiches. You sat up and gave her a sad smile, your eyes tearing up.

“Damn it Nat, I came here to drink, not to get therapy from you.” you chuckled, grimacing at how forced it sounded.

“But it was never your fault. Believe me when I say that we all blamed ourselves at some point.” She continued, and your eyes teared up.

In the last five years you thought no one could see that you’ve been beating yourself up for not getting to where Steve and Thor were sooner. You thought that maybe if you had, you would’ve stopped Thanos, and half of the world, including Bucky, would still be here.

“Sometimes I wake up thinking I’m still in Wakanda, and that this has all been a nightmare.” you breathed out, feeling yourself about to break down for the first time. “I can’t find myself to stop waiting for him even if I don’t know if we could ever bring everybody back.” you finally admitted.

“Y/N -”

“Nat, the worst part is that I never got to tell him I love him. I know he knew and didn’t feel the same way. But I still wish I got to.” tears were starting to spill from your eyes, and Natasha was quick to get the drink from your hand before it spilled, and take you in her arms for comfort.

If you were to be completely honest, half the reason you go out of your way to visit Nat and Steve, was so you could also visit The Smithsonian Institution, and just... look at him. You’ve read what was written about him over and over, but it wasn’t enough to replace the yearning that you have inside.

In your sleep you can sometimes still see him just seconds before the blip. On other nights, it’s just the image of him sleeping soundly – his lips parted slightly, and his breathing getting steadier by the minute, the crease between his brows relaxed, and his hair pushed and tied at the back after you offered to - a sight you’ve engraved in your mind after many nights of comforting him following a nightmare.

“He loved you too, Y/N”. Steve spoke out from the doorway, seeing your state. “Maybe not like the way you do, but I know he does. And today I went out for a walk and -”

“Steve, if you’re about to tell her to look on the bright side, I’m about to hit you on the head with a PeanutButter sandwich.” Nat cut him off.

But then everyone’s attention snapped to Nat’s desk, where a notification pinged. It says that someone was outside. Sliding on the call, there was a man outside, asking if anyone was at home. You know you’ve seen his face before, and after he finally said his name, you remembered who he is.

“Is this an old message?” Steve asked after a few seconds in shock.

“It’s the front gate.”

--------

“I’ll do it too.” You spoke up to the group.

The team was going to have two tests – one where it would be a quick time on wherever the test subject would want to go, and if it’s successful, the second would leave the test subject longer in the timeline they choose. And you just volunteered yourself right after Clint.

“No, I forbid you.” Thor spoke up from his seat. Everybody turned their attention to him in surprise. All along they thought he was asleep because he had sunglasses on and was unresponsive.

“Fa-”

He stood abruptly and came closer to you. “This is non-negotiable, Y/N. I’ve already lost enough; I can’t lose you too." Your eyes welled with tears in surprise. For the last five years he’s managed to shut everyone out including you – leading you to believe that he doesn’t care anymore and just hasn’t kicked you out, out of honor.

“We’ll let you both talk first.” You heard Steve say in a low voice, ushering everyone else out of the room.

Thor grunted and moved away back to his seat, still wearing his glasses, while you stayed standing, leaning in the corner. Taking a long hard look at him, you understood where he was coming from. But you also knew getting things right would be the only way to possibly get him back up again. And it was a risk you were willing to take.

“There was a time when I believed you were dead.” You started talking, regardless of not knowing if he was listening. “I jumped right into anger out of guilt, and as I was ruthlessly destroying those outriders, I thought I was gonna have to stay feeling that way forever. Just plain angry.” You chuckled and pushed yourself from the wall.

“But there was a moment where that anger was replaced by worry and fright. It was when Bucky was getting too overwhelmed by the creatures’ attacks. Yes, I almost got pierced like a kebab right after, but it was also the moment I realized that I preferred feeling any other emotions than blinding anger. I don’t want you feeling that way forever too.”

“I’m not angry.” he snapped, standing up once again to get closer to you.

“Yes, you are. But above all you’re hurting.” you stood your ground in front of him.

“I am definitely NOT hurting.” He sarcastically answered.

“Really? Then take those glasses off. Let me see those definitely not bloodshot eyes.” you smiled gently up at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, when he snorted at you. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you sniffling and trying to hide it by pretend-drinking that empty can of beer earlier.”

“gods, why are daughters so annoyingly observant.” He muttered, finally throwing the empty can of beer somewhere in the room. You can see that the team was back just right outside the glass door. You gave them an assuring smile, and faced him again.

“Well?”

“If it works on Clint, then fine.” He groaned, and you couldn’t help but tackle him out of gratitude.

--------

Clint was on the ground once he returned, and Nat rushed to his side to check on him.

“Hey, look at me.” she asked him, and he turned to look at everyone. His eyes were teary, but it wasn’t from sadness.

It was hope.

“It worked!”

--------

“Now, Y/N. This time you’re going to be there for a longer period, okay? Use your powers if defense is necessary.” Banner instructed you. You were now standing at the center of the machine in your suit. But only Nat and Steve knew what you had under it. It was their idea.

“Are you ready?” This time, Nat was behind the controller with Banner to overlook it. You gave her a small smile and a nod.

“Wait, where are you going anyway?” You heard Scott asked out loud, as Nat input the year. You looked over to where Steve was standing and he was also grinning.

“Say hi to him for me.” you heard him say before you felt yourself shrunk. And you were in.

--------

You made it out of a tent, now out of your suit and left with the old nurse’s uniform you were wearing under it earlier. Everybody else was too distracted, cheering on Steve because he just brought back with him the soldiers from Hydra’s base.

You tried to calm your nerves, just realizing that the people around you were now most likely dead from your timeline. How many of them survived the war, and how many of their grandchildren have you befriended? And how many of those grandchildren were also taken by the blip?

When the crowd was starting to disperse and most of the people were trying to get back to their tasks, you found yourself roaming around, a little lost, trying to figure out where the medical tent is.

“Steve, I told you I feel fine.” you froze when you heard his voice a little far behind you.

“It’s better to make sure, Buck.” you heard Steve insist. You still couldn’t will your legs to keep walking. “And even if you are, you need rest. Just let me find you a...”

shit

“...nurse! Hey, ma’am!” You weren’t sure if you were the one Steve was calling out. Turning around slowly, your breath hitched when you finally faced them. Bucky’s own face went from annoyed to entranced in a second. He was staring at you with the very same pair of orbs you’ve been missing. Only that in this timeline, they still held a glint of playfulness and innocence in them.

You cleared your own throat when you realized it’s been a few seconds since anyone said anything. “Uh, what can I do for you, S- Captain?” you gave them a smile, trying not to chuckle from almost calling him by his first name.

“You know what, Steve, I am feeling a little funny.” Bucky nudged him with his elbow. And you turned your attention to him.

“Right. Uh, allow me to assist you, Sargeant.” you walked slowly towards him, feeling like your heart was going to jump out of your chest.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Steve muttered to him.

He put his arm around your shoulder for support as you start walking to what you hope was the medical tent. It was only then you realized that it was left arm. Your hand shakingly reached for his wrist, careful not to go for the hand, as if you were just making sure that you would be able to help him hold himself up.

“So... what’s your name?” He started trying to make small talk.

“Y/N” you answered, trying to mask your nervousness.

“I’m James. But you can call me Bucky.” Hearing him introduce himself in such a confident manner struck you deeply. You know that after this, he wouldn’t be able to know who he is for decades to come.

You almost wanted to warn him.

“Are you okay?” He asked in concern after being met with silence.

“Yes, sir. I’m just a tad nervous. I’m kinda new here.” you gave him a tight smile.

“Please call me by my name. And lucky for you, I’m the easiest patient you’ll ever tend to, doll. All I need is some company while on bed rest.” He gave you a boyish smile.

“You got yourself a deal, James.” you found yourself returning the smile.

Entering what was thankfully the medical tent, you helped him settle down on one of the beds. There were only about 3-5 other patients, and they were all being tend to already.

“I’m kind of curious, why did you decide to serve?” he gave you a sheepish smile.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything wrong with you, soldier?” you asked him first, and he responded with a small shake of his head. Smiling, you came up with a believable answer. “My dad was a high-ranking officer, but something happened, and they lost a lot of people. And now he’s back home wallowing in guilt. I decided to serve in behalf of him, so now I’m here.” you bit the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

James was looking at you in awe, and he took your hand in his left one and gave it a light squeeze. “You don’t have a man waiting on you back home?” you could hear he was almost hesitant to ask.

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill. How would you be able to say something so heart wrenching?

“Bu... He was among those who didn’t make it.” you cleared your throat to compose yourself. This was all too much.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” he didn’t know what to say. He almost kicked himself for having a tinge of relief in knowing that you weren’t committed to anyone.

“He wasn’t really mine... I was in love, yes. And he knew but just didn’t really feel the same. And I never resented him for it. I just wish I was brave enough to really tell him before he...” you choked up and apologized to him, but there was no judgement behind his eyes.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want for you to be filled with regrets every time you remember him. I know I wouldn’t.” He gave you an assuring smile, squeezing your hand in comfort as the tears finally run down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry for crying. Now they’re gonna think you were being mean to me.” you gave him a sad smile.

“Steve will lecture me about manners for sure.” He chuckled.

“He still does it.” You thoughtlessly blurted out, earning a confused look from him. “I- I’ve heard some people saying he’s been super righteous even way before he became the Captain America.” you sheepishly smiled, hoping he believed you.

“Yeah. Always been a punk.” He replied, but you could hear adoration lace his voice.

“I think I should leave you to actually get some rest.” You knew it was time to go.

He nodded and smiled at you. “You're the most beautiful nurse I’ve ever seen. I don't think most of us wouldn’t mind if your face is what will be the last thing we’ll see.”

“Yeah, there is definitely something wrong with you. Get some sleep, soldier.” you turned and was already near the way out, when he spoke up.

“We’re going on a raid tomorrow. Will I get to see you when we come back?”

You felt your heart drop. You knew what was about to happen to him.

You turned to face his way and walked back to him where he was now sitting up on the bed.

“James, you’re a strong man. You’re going to be okay.” eventually.

“Thank you, angel.”

It was your turn to give his left hand a squeeze. And bringing it up, you gave it a small kiss before gently dropping it back to him.

“I’ll wait for you to come back, Buck.” you smiled, and quickly left the tent before you completely break down.

It was time go back.

--------

@eternalharry @iheartsebandchris @lizzarooni @the-ayo-lit

@tanyaherondale @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul

Today is a great day. Fearless (Taylor's Version) + New TFATWS episode.

[kaz11283]

I really like the prompt list you reblogged it’s got some good stuff. What about 37. “Because I love you god damn it!” with Loki if you are still needing inspiration.

37) Because I Love You God Damn It!

~~~~

The Secret Is Out

Characters: the Avengers Bunch, Loki, Thor, Clint

Warnings: Dirty words, slight angst

Summary: after putting your life in the line for a teammate you accidentally let a big secret slip.

Announcements: I will always need insperation and requests! They feed my soul! Haha. I'm not gonna lie. Im skipping back and forth on my requests though. I have a really good story line for one but its just so emotional(thats were Im hoping it goes at least) that I didnt want to write it tonight and put my self in a mood. So instead I guess im goimg with a form of anger? Meh. Anyways... I absolutly love love love everything from you guys! The reblogs, likes, and comments are amazing and I am very greatful for all the love I am getting!!!! 💚💚💚💚💚

Loki Masterlist

~~~~

The fight had been rough but not as rough as you were feeling in the moment. You had gotten serverly hurt and had been in the medbay for about a week now and you had a longer road ahead. There had been an explosion and instead of turning to run away you had ran toward one of your team members that had been to distracted to realize what was going on, you had successfully gotten him shoved out of the way but you had taken the brunt of the blast.

Now you were laying here staring at the celing trying to stay distracted as Bruce and Tony looked at your completely shaddered knee and the burns up your leg. Fingers crossed that they would have good news soon.

"Well as of right now kid your out of commission." Tony said helping you sit back up.

"Meaning?" You pulled one of the pillows down so that you could sit up without being uncomfortable.

"Meaning right now, the way it all looks, your gonna be stuck in the bed until it fully heals and after wards theres really no way to tell if your going to be able to work in the field again." Burce said looking at the xrays again. "And your gonna have to have surgery in order to put all the right pieces back in the right places, but we cant really do that until some of the burns heal or at least start to heal. Its gonna be a long drawn out process unfortunately." He sighed setting the charts back down and walking over to you.

"Fucking hell! You mean I'm gonna be pushing paper work? I might as well go work in a damn office with four white walls and a poster that says 'hang in there, its almost Friday'." You placed your head in your hands.

"Hey! At least our paper work is more exciting than just running numbers." Tony said placing a hand on your back. He had been like a fsther to you, taking you in when you didnt have anywhere else to turn except the streets. Your own family had abandoned you at a young age and you had been leaning toward a dark path until Tony. "Besides with your expertise you dont have to sit behind a desk, your fingers arent blown off, you can still hack into stuff I'm sure."

"Tony we had a deal when I moved in. No hacking but you would train me and I could actually do good. Now look at me."

"I said no hacking the good guys, and if I remember correctly you were the one jumping close to the bomb not away from. I hate to be this way y/n but the only one to blame is yourself on this one."

"He would have been worst off than I am if not killed. I think I did the right thing. Besides you would have done the same thing if you had been closer." You sighed.

"Honey the diffrence with that is I have a supersuit, you wear a skin tight, spandex one peice, that I'm not a fan of." He laughted. Bruce had went to go get you some more pain killers to shoot into your IV.

"Tony if I were you I would shut up. Your starting to sound like you might actually love me, might even say your starting to act like a dad." You laughed pulling him into a hug.

"Shut it kid, cant let the others know I have a soft spot for the hacker orphan kid i took in all those years ago now can I." He said kissing the top of your head. "Do you need anything else before the drugs kick in and you pass out again?"

"Yes, can you please bring me my phone charger, laptop, and that really fluffy blanket that you and Pep got for me for Christmas."

"Dont ask to much of me now."

"I wouldnt be asking if you would just let me stay in my room. I hate it down here. I wanna be were the people are." You were starting to get loopy from whatever Bruce had given you.

"Ok little mermaid, get some rest I'll get your stuff." He laughed walking out the door letting you fall into a restless sleep.

You didnt know how long you hade been asleep but you woke up with a groan trying to sit up so you could atleast stretch your back from laying in one spot for to long. You flopped back down dramatically with a sigh. You could sense someine else in the room with you, you always knew when he was around.

"You dont have to hide in the shadows Loki. Your more than welcome to keep me company, you should know that by now." You smiled as the prince walked over and sat in the chair beside you. You could tell he hadnt been sleeping, his hair was fixed as always but his clothes looked worst for wear. He had on a plain black shirt and a pair of gray sweat pants, both of with had wrinkles in them either from tossing and turning or from not being changed in a few days.

"Whats wrong? And dont pull that 'nothing is wrong dear. I'm absolutly fine.' Bullshit. You look horrible." You reatched out to grab his hand. What you and Loki had was diffrent. You didnt just see his as a friend, he didnt just see you as that either though. You had spent many nights sitting up with the silver tounge man many nights laying on the couch watching movies, reading, talking about each of your pasts. He knew more about you than even Tony did.

"I'm still currently trying to wrap my head around why you pushed me out of the way and took the blow when you had a chance of dying from it. You shouldnt have been so thick headed my dear." He took your hand and raised it to his lips kissing the top of your hand.

"Loki." You sighed rolling your head to look back up at the celing. "You would have been hurt alot wordt than I am now, that blast could have killed you."

"I am a god y/n, that blast wouldnt have caused me nearly as much damage as it did you." His voice raised slightly.

"Thats what you think. You think that because you are "immortal" that you can take anything thats thrown at you. That no one really cares about you, that you wouldnt be missed? So why not try to take a blow from a bomb? My god your so stupid sometimes."

"I know I can. Norns y/n I've jumped into space, been brain washed, tried to take over New York, gotten smashed around by the Hulk. I was raised with Thor, he doesnt really go easy on a person. What I'm saying is I dont understand why you, a mear midguardian, would sacrifice themselves for me. If anything would have happened-"

"Nothing did happen though. I'm fine-"

"You have steel sticking from your leg, theres no telling when or even if you'll be able to walk again, and there are highly server burns that will leave scares. You cannot sit there and tell me that you are fine."

"Your right it does suck that I'm jot gonna be able to pull off shorts or a bikini anymore."

"This isnt a joke y/n. You almost died!" He finally yelled.

"And i would do it a thousand times over if that ment saving your damn ass again!" You shouted back.

"Why though?! Why me y/n? I've done horrible things, killed people! My life is meaningless." Tears had sprang to his eyes as he looked away.

"Because I love you God damn it!" You stopped suddenly your jaw dropping at the admission that you hadnt ment for him to hear. His head jerked back to you.

"What?" Shock was all over his face as he stood to walk closer to you. "What did you just say?"

"Because I love you Loki Odinson. Because if you were to die I dont think I would be able to go on living. Because even if you see all the bad things that you've done I can look pass that amd see all the good that you are doing." You reached up placing a hand on his cheek and wiping away a tear.

"I love you too y/n. I have since the day I met you. The girl that didnt care what anyone said when she spent time with me. The girl that can see through every face i put on. I love you so much darling." He placed his hand on your face and leaning down gently kissing your lips.

It felt like you thought it always should you felt electricity run through your body and the two of you connected. It was like getting a breath after not being able to for so long. He pulled away smiling at you.

"What do we tell the others?" He asked laying on with bed with you being easy with your leg. He placed his arm around your middle and pulled you as close as he could.

"I honestly dont care what we tell them. They can figure it out themseves for all I care." You smiled lacing your fingers with his, you yawned placing your head on his shoulder closing your eyes.

"Sleep now my Dove, I will be here when you wake." He felt your gentle breath slow as you fell asleep, the rhythm you of your breath lulling him into his own sleep.

Tony and Bruce walked in the next morning stopping dead at the sight in front of them. You and Loki were still cuddled on the small bed sleeping peacefully.

"Should we wake them up?" Bruce asked looking at Tony.

"Na, let them sleep. Dont want to let them know that we know." Tony saod grabbing Bruce's arm and turning to walk back out of the door.

~~~~

Tag List:

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

@high-functioning-lokipath

[imagine-that]

Rescue me

Pairing: Loki Friggason x reader

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, kinda angsty, a lil fluffy. (We love fluffy Loki around here lmao)

AN: this is not a request but I got this idea and it wouldn’t stop nagging at me so I took it and I RAN with it, requests coming VERY soon though

Yanking on the binds around your wrists, you wince slightly as they dig into the skin once again.

“That won’t free you. They’ve held much stronger.” The man in front of you informs you, a sly smirk playing on his lips and sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m not of any use to you, I hope you’ve realized that by now.” You growl, glaring up at him with a piercing gaze.

He chuckles, the sound one of nightmares bellowing from his throat.

“On the contrary, you are the key to getting to the god of mischief.” He says, his malicious grin growing wider as you flinch at the sound of his title. “Who knew his only weakness would be so... pathetically mortal.” He says, grabbing your roughly by the chin to make you meet his eyes.

Had your legs not been tied down, you would have kicked him, whether it be in the legs or in a much more intimate place, anywhere that would have gotten the vile creature away from you.

“He won’t do it. He won’t come for me. He’d never be that stupid.” You spat, leaning towards his face to make your message clear.

He opts to ignore your comment, leaving the room without another word.

You spend what feels like ions fighting the ropes with as much force as you can muster, still feeling the toll of the drugs they’d used to take you here (wherever here was), even with a day or two having already passed since they used it. You suspected they were sending the same kind through the vents to disorient you and to keep you weak.

You knew they more than likely wouldn’t feed you or give you water but your stomach still didn’t realize this. It continued to rumble, reminding you of your need for nutrients.

Truthfully, you’d been in worse situations. Being friends with the avengers tended to do that to a person. No, it wasn’t being starved or locked up and tied to a cold metal chair that scared you. It was the fact that you now truly knew what your boyfriend Loki felt for you and that was nothing.

There hadn’t been one sign of him coming to your rescue, nor had there been any of him sending help for you.

You wanted to plead, beg even for him to come to your aid but you refused to give them the satisfaction of hearing so through whatever mics and cameras they may have planted.

Your body ached from being in this same position for so long and you tried to prepare yourself for spending the rest of your life like this but try as you might, you couldn’t. You couldn’t will yourself to drop all hopes of Loki becoming your knight.

You licked your lips, trying to refresh them from their cracking and dried state but it was not much use.

Hours later, your captor reenters the room, two of his cronies following behind on either side. You use a minimal amount of strength to look up at him, knowing he would once again force you to if you didn’t do it yourself.

“I don’t understand! We’ve had her/him/them here for days and he hasn’t so much as threatened our lives! It doesn’t make any sense.” He cries out in frustration, gesturing angrily in your direction as he speaks.

You let out a bitter guffaw, rolling your eyes slightly. “It’s obvious you’re dimwitted but I had no idea it was to this extent.” You mutter. He glares at you furiously, outraged by your sudden show of disrespect. “Loki views me as nothing more than a plaything. He sees me as a toy and clearly, he’s grown bored with me anyway. He won’t come. The sooner you realize that the sooner we can get my murder over with.” You explain coldly.

“No. No! There’s more to it than that! We wouldn’t have just taken you on the off chance he cared for you! He does! I’ve seen it!” He insists, burying himself in denial. Any person would’ve said you should be reacting the same way, perhaps even more dramatically. You disagreed.

“He sees me as a possession. He doesn’t need me, he never has. He simply wanted to have me as a trophy for the mantle.” You reword your initial statement, the sharp words slipping through your lips slicing your heart more everytime as realization hits.

You feel the lone tear falling down your face just as he looks back to meet your eyes again. His face lights up with a monstrous grin and you immediately want to move away or at least wipe the salty tear away.

The man gently caresses your face, the rough pad of his thumb wiping the tear off your cheek. Your breath hitches in fear, terrified into not moving even an inch.

“I can see why the trickster would take an interest in you. For a mortal, you are quite attractive.” He comments, his breath hot on your face. You lean as far back as the chair allows without falling, using every bit of your strength to get away.

Just before he can do anything else to frighten you, an alarm starts blaring, high pitched and loud, causing him and his guards to stand immediately at high alert.

“Take the captive someplace safe. She/he/they needs to be intact for our deal to work.” He orders, running over to the door to investigate.

Instead of leaving you to walk on your own, the two remove you from the chair, grabbing you by an arm each and dragging you to the parcade but not before they hastily jab another dose of whatever drug it was they used on you into your exposed arm. You bite back a wince, the needle stinging as they recklessly inject it.

As they shove you into the backseat and start to drive, another car collides violently with the drivers side, sending the vehicle you’re in to a sudden halt. You release the sob of fear you’d been holding since being brought there, scared for your life.

As you begin to fade in and out of consciousness from the impact of your head hitting the front seat, the world keeps spinning, making you dizzy. The door is yanked open and what you see makes you immediately think it’s nothing more than a cruel form of torture.

“Oh my love, thank norns you are alright.” The voice murmurs, cutting your seatbelt with minimal difficulty and dragging your tired body out of the car like a rag doll.

Your first thought after the torture theory is that the drugs were causing you to hallucinate. Your next was that they somehow had the powers that the god of mischief himself did.

All these theories are tossed out the window as he lifts you into his arms and you feel the familiar mix of warmth and coolness against your skin.

“You came for me. You didn’t leave me for dead.” You murmur sleepily, trying to fight the effects of the injection.

“Of course I did my darling. I could never allow harm to come to you. I will always come for you.” He promises softly, placing a kiss on your forehead as he slips the both of you through every doorway. Suddenly he comes to a halt, making your drooping eyelids burst open and brings you back to some form of alertness.

“I see you found your mortal.” A voice says. To your dismay, it’s again a voice you recognize. This one though, is the same taunting voice you’d heard for the past two days.

You feel Loki’s muscles tense against you, holding you tighter in a protective manner. You nuzzle up to him in a mix of fear and exhaustion.

“Y/n is not a part of this war between you and me. Leave her/him/them out of this.” He orders, gently placing you on the ground to lean on the wall. You whine in protest, wanting nothing more than to be protected within his grasp.

“If only I could. She/he/they is the only thing you value worth bargaining. Without that, no one has anything of interest to you.” The man says with a grin, glancing over at your weakened figure in an almost longing manner.

Loki’s jaw tenses as he steps closer to the man, clearly ready to rip him apart in one move. If there was one thing he would never bargain with, it was your life and safety.

As you fell into a drug induced sleep on the floor, your limbs relaxing around you, Loki takes another glance in your direction, alarmed as he notices one of the mans guards grab hold of you and hold a blade to your throat.

“What is it you seek, you parasite?” Loki growls as he meets the eyes of your captor.

He grins like a madman. “The tesseract for y/n’s life.” He orders. Loki’s jaw locks in anger, unsure what he could do.

“I truly didn’t believe you’d fallen in love with a mere mortal your highness. I thought those who did were insane but seeing you actually have to think about it... well that just proves them right.” He mocks, making Loki want nothing more than to kill him.

He regains his control, his whitened knuckles relaxing as he lets out a sigh of defeat. Reaching into the pocket of his armour, he hands the glowing blue cube out of his hand and into his enemies hesitantly.

The man inspects it quickly before signalling for the minion to release you. He moves his blade and lets you go, dropping your limp body down to the floor with a harsh thud.

Loki practically seethes with anger, glaring daggers at the man as he retreats.

“You truly have become weak for this one being. How sad.” The man says, tutting his tongue as Loki reaches back over to you, his face one of worry.

“I like to believe you and your men are the weak ones for believing it is love that renders you so. You are true fools for believing I, Loki of Asgard, could ever be rendered so.” He retorts in an almost bored tone as he picks you up bridal style, cradling you in his arms as he masks his rage.

The man guffaws. “I got what I needed, you may take her/him/them and leave.” He says dismissively as he walks off into the hallways of his lair, leaving Loki alone with you.

He gently pushes strands of hair away from your face and quickly walks off to his hovercraft ship, laying you gently onto the ground, draping his emerald cloak over you. As the wind blows around you, the air helps with the effects of the drugs, making you wake up groggily.

“Loki?” You murmur, repeating yourself a moment later to overpower the wind.

“Good morning darling.” He hums, setting it to drive itself for a moment as he turns to face you. He crouches down to your level, gently but possessively kissing you on the cheek.

“How did you get us out of there?” You ask in confusion.

“With my wit and charm?” He offers jokingly. You meet his eyes, looking unimpressed. “If you must know, I had to give him the tesseract.” He admits with a huff of annoyance.

“What?! Loki, that thing is so important to you... and to the rest of the universe! Why would you do that?” You shout, your face one of concern.

“Y/n, I would have done whatever necessary to get you back. I care more for you than for anyone else in my life, except perhaps my dear mother.” He explains softly, holding your hand in his. In the palm of his godly hand, yours felt tiny.

“I’m not worth trading your most prized possession Loki. I love you for what you did but-.” You start but he places his lips against yours before you can finish.

“I thought that might be the best way to get you to stop chattering.” He says with a mischievous yet warm grin. You’d missed that more than you’d realized over the past few days.

“Anyway, you are worth all the tesseracts or magical artifacts or crowns in the world. I’d trade all of them just to keep you by my side forever my love.” He promises, kissing your knuckle as your face heats up.

“Well when you put it that way...” you say with a smile, planting your lips against his yourself.

“It also helps when you give them a fake of course.” He shrugs nonchalantly as though he hadn’t just dropped a key piece of information on you.

“You- you really deserve the title of god of mischief, you know that?” You ask in slight awe of his quick thinking.

“Of course I do but it’s nice to hear from such a lovely pair of lips.” He teases, smiling at you.

“I love you you mischievous idiot.” You giggle, grinning and squeezing his hand, still feeling groggy but a bit better being with him.

“And I love you with all my heart my darling. Always have, always will.” He whispers, holding you tight in his embrace.

He helps you to your feet, letting you regain your sense of balance as he pulls you in front of him, rested against his chest as he steers the small ship to the avengers tower, landing it gracefully.

“A bit of a show off are we?” You tease.

“My dear, it would never truly be me if I weren’t.” He teases right back, carrying you into his room.

You spend the night there, sleeping with his arms around your body.

He whispers sweet promises to protect you and guard you with his life and you take comfort in knowing that they’re all true, that you should never doubt his love and willingness to protect you at all costs. He was never going to leave you, he was your protector and rescuer, along with the love of your life, just as you were his.

[howfarethestars]

thorkyrie week day 1: au

this is kind of late lmao i forgot about thorval week, and i’ve been working so much that i haven’t had much time to write </3 but i do have a little something i can post. it’s short but it’s here! it’s an au in which val is the gladiator thor fights when arriving on sakaar. i wanted to write a part two to this, and i might still do that later on, but for now here’s the beginning

Brunnhilde wrapped a calloused hand around her shin guard and pressed it flush against her leg. Her fingers, clumsy thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol she consumed in the past hour, struggled to fasten it into place. The roar of the crowd over her head grew steady louder. Norns, she was so late. Had they already announced the contender? The rumbling chorus of drunken cheers did not give her an indication. The buckle of her left shin guard snapped into place by some miracle, and she grinned to herself before hauling the other one up to her leg.

“Wow,” the Grandmaster’s unmistakable voice rang out, muffled but still clearly audible over the din of the crowd. Brunnhilde let a curse fly from her lips as she straightened suddenly, hopping on one foot to secure her shin guard. “Look at all of you!”

“Just give me a damned minute,” she muttered, sprinting up the ramp to her spot. Her swords rested heavy at her hips, aching to be drowned in blood. She ran calloused fingertips over their hilts, as if she was whispering, Just a moment longer.

“What a show! What a night!”

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes. What a show, alright. Just as manufactured as a roadside circus. She’d long been freed of the obedience disk that held her captive in the Grandmaster’s tower, slave to his every whim, but she had not been free so long that she’d forgotten how this worked. There was a champion chosen every few centuries. They were raised on a pedestal, treated like royalty, until the Grandmaster grew bored of them and let them be killed off. When Brunnhilde had been chosen, she’d spent the time before a fight pacing in worry, wondering if this fight would be her last. Now she just took a swig from the flask she kept stashed on her belt and dared the contender on the other side to entertain the thought of taking her down.

The Grandmaster hadn’t let up, rambling on about the sportsmanship of the bait—no, he called them “undercard competitors”—that had died before she would enter the arena. There was a time when she would mourn them. There was a time when she was them.

“It’s main event time,” the Grandmaster purred, working over his crowd like this wasn’t the hundredth time they’d heard this same spiel.

Now that the threat of stumbling out into the arena drunk and off-cue had passed, Brunnhilde found herself hopelessly bored of it. She never knew if the Grandmaster was bored, either. His moods shifted so suddenly. There had been nights when he skipped the pomp and circumstance and tossed her out before the contender was even in the starting gate.

“Making his first appearance tonight, though he looks quite promising, ladies and gentlemen! Watch out for his fingers: they make sparks!...the lord of thunder!”

The name got an eye roll out of her. Tonight would be easier than usual, then. Some cocky bastard. He may even refuse to fight a woman. She smirked as she imagined driving her swords deep in his smug chest.

The boos from the crowd subsided, and the Grandmaster began again. “Now, it’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for…”

Brunnhilde stepped up to the gate.

“...your champion…”

She bounced anxiously on the balls of her feet.

“The Valkyrie!”

The gates gave a mighty groan as they were pulled back and away from her. She’d long learned not to flinch from the sound of the crowd or the flashing lights. She stepped out proud and tall, chuckling and waving her arms over her head to get the crowd going. She let her eyes drift to her competition, and her jaw nearly dropped in awe. Damn, he was hot. Cropped hair, at least a head taller than her, muscles sculpted like a god.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, adjusting her grip on her swords. She actually felt a little bad about ruining that pretty face, right up until it twisted into pure fury as he charged her. “Shit!”

The “Lord of Thunder” ran at her at a blinding speed with both his swords raised over his head. He growled as he caught up with her and swung down. She blocked his blade, but the force knocked her back in the sand.

“How dare you?” he growled, swiping again at her side. She hopped out of his reach. “You dishonor the name of the Valkyries to use their title this way.”

Now it was her turn to be pissed. Who was he to tell her how to use her own damn title? She drove her elbows down onto the crown of his helmet, but all she managed to do was knock her armband off.

Thunder boy took a step back, holding both his swords at arm’s length. “Who are you to call yourself a Valkyrie?”

Brunnhilde’s eyes smoldered. “I don’t answer to you, Thunderer.”

“The Valkyrie were elite warriors of Asgard,” he said, and Brunnhilde rolled her eyes. She dodged another attack. “as prince of Asgard I have every right to protect their legacy.”

Brunnhilde’s stomach plummeted. He took that brief moment of weakness as an opportunity to knock her legs out from under her. Her backside collided with the ground with a spray of sand. Pain jolted through her back, but anger was quick to replace it. She snarled and kicked upwards, aiming for his most delicate area. He jumped back out her reach, but she scrambled up after him. Whatever training she usually fought with, it was forgotten as blind rage took over her. She tackled him around the waist, and they tumbled to the ground together. She pummeled him with balled fists until his helmet broke under her hands. She raised her arms above her head for the final blow, but he reached up and snagged her arm before she could.

“Y-you are a Valkyrie?”

“Aye, and you’re about to breathe your last, princeling,” Brunnhilde snarled, wrestling free of his grasp.

She wrapped her hands around his thick neck and squeezed. The heel of her palm was situated right over his diaphragm. She could feel his consciousness fading. Vindictive joy had just started to settle into her chest when he gasped sharply and his eyes glowed bright blue. She had just a second to panic before lightning burst fourth from his body and blew her halfway across the arena.

White stars danced across her vision. The smell of burnt leather seared her nostrils. Through bleary eyes, she saw the prince stand and look down at his lightning-wrapped hands with shock all over his face. As if he didn’t know what he was capable of. Maybe he didn’t.

Valkyrie shook her head and pushed off the sand. Her limbs felt alight, there was a buzz in her head. But she gave her swords a twirl and stalked towards the glowing man on the other side. It was probably the last thing she’d ever do, but she’d do it anyway. Just as she adjusted her weight to run, the familiar sound of an obedience disk buzzed in the air. Blue spindles of toxin spread through his convulsing body, and he dropped to the ground, dazed.

Brunnhilde stomped towards him and sank to her knees by his side. His eyes were hooded, but there was an apology in them. Sympathy twinged in her belly. But only a tiny bit.

“Many apologies, your majesty,” she murmured, then slammed the hilt of her sword into his temple, knocking him unconscious.

The Grandmaster’s goons were quick to enter the arena, just as the crowds started spilling out. Typical. Sakaarian attention spans were notoriously short. Though, in their defense, Brunnhilde usually left around this time, too. As two Sakaarian guards lifted his limp body into their arms to be dumped outside for the scavengers, Brunnhilde couldn’t shake the guilt gnawing at her.

“Wait!” she called before she could stop herself. They stilled, confusion written all over their strange features. Or she guessed it was confusion. It was hard to tell. “Take him to my room. I...I have plans for him.”

She tried to give her voice a suggestive lilt, but it just came off as desperate. Either way, it worked. The two guards chucked to themselves before dragging the god’s boots through the sand. Soon enough she stood alone in the center of that arena.

Brunnhilde leaned her head back and let out a groan.

What had she gotten herself into?

[gaitwae]

Mistletoe •||• Loki x Female Reader

Tag List: @winterfrostsarmy @twhiddlestonsstuff @lucywrites02

+-+--

“Y/N, babe?” you hear your boyfriend, Jerry Allen, say. He had a sort of superpower that let him go to other realities. In his original reality, he was the quickest man alive. “Could you help me put up the Christmas lights?”

You smile and nod. “Of course! Just let me finish spiking some eggnog for Thor. Uncle Tony and Aunt Pepper will be here soon . . . I can’t believe all of the Avengers are coming.”

Jerry grins. “Well, the Avengers are practically family. After Tony basically adopted you, they totally count.” He zooms through the living room, putting up the rest of the other decorations.

“Jerry, I was fifteen when I met Tony. That was ten years ago, I don’t think that counts as adoption,” you laugh softly. You helped him string up the Christmas lights, secretly hoping that your favorite uncle’s friend, Thor, would bring someone else to the party. You mean, he was practically your best friend. He had to show up and play just a few holiday pranks.

Your quickster boyfriend shrugs. “Whatever. And, uh, put up some mistletoe. That will be interesting.”

Mistletoe? Pffft, no one was going to fall for that. You sigh, putting it up, anyway. The only person you could think of who was unfortunate enough to even accidentally stand under it would be Bruce. You giggle gently. You would bail him out if that happened.

But what if he came? Oh, goodness. You didn’t think he knew about mistletoe. Would you still kiss him, despite having a boyfriend? Despite your promise never to fulfill your secret desires?

There’s a knock at the door. Jerry speeds to open it as you finish tying up the plant to the ceiling. You hear a voice at the door, and your heart flutters against your will.

“(Y/N),” they sing. You groan, but quickly smile anyway. You loved him, and that was that.

“Tony!” you laugh, running into his arms and helping him with presents. You move to hug Pepper. She hugs back. You hug Nat and Steve and Bruce, even seeing that Clint and Bucky showed up. They did with simple handshakes — they never were ones for major affection.

When you let go, huge arms pull you into a hug. How could you have missed him? You smile widely. Thor.

“Sister Y/N! Thank you for inviting us!” Thor’s voice booms. You return the embrace, though you’re finding it hard to breath. Sister? Usually he called you ‘Lady’ or just Small One. Never ‘Sister.’ What was going on?

It seemed like Tony and Steve and Pepper noticed it, too. “Why the sudden name change?”

Thor was about to say something, but quickly shook his head. “Nothing,” he says, like you all couldn’t already tell it was a lie. The four of you glare. “I’m under oath,” he tells you, walking away into the living room.

You roll your eyes. You were seriously starting to wish Loki were here. You blush as some simple fantasies flew into your head at the mere mention of the God of Lies. Such things you’d never let Jerry find out about, much less experience with him. Things that made you melt like butter on a thousand degree knife.

You sat down, a light haze making your head spin and cracking a smile on your face. Man. When you described the trickster as a god, there really wasn’t much exaggeration. His long black hair and his bright green-blue eyes made him look so regal. His smile was dazzling. You completely agreed with his sense of humor. You rested your head on your fist.

His lips looked so soft. You almost wanted to taste them. His hair was begging to be braided. And, norns forbid, those arms of his would cuddle amazingly. You were practically dying to find out. You hummed softly and let out a lovesick sigh. I wish you were coming.

“Y/N. You okay? You’re zoning out, kiddo,” Tony chuckled. Your heart skipped and sat up, heart pounding in your chest. What if Tony found out about your more-than-a-crush crush on Loki?

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine.” You cleared your throat. As smart as your “uncle” was, he would probably figure out soon. You didn’t think that would really end well. He arched an eyebrow at your statement, but didn’t press much about it. “You need something?”

“Thor spilled the beans — if you wanna hear it.” He smirks and rests his hand on his knee, getting ready to stand up. “But apparently he can’t say all of it without you.”

“Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“He didn’t say anything. You just wanted to find out what I was thinking about. Didn’t you?” Tony looked somewhat shocked, to say the least. You give him an exasperated glare. He smiled and shrugged.

“Caught me, kiddo. Is Pete coming?” He looked around. You could tell he was worried. You pointed to the door, which burst open with a Spider-Man in a Christmas hat.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS, AND HAVE A WEBBY NEW YEAR!” He set his hands at his hips and dropped the bag of presents he had. You laugh and run to hug your younger friend.

“Peter! You made it,” you smile. He takes off the mask, grinning. His eyes sparkle with his eagerness and excitement.

“Of course, I did. Had to do some last minute shopping for Mr. Stark, but all’s good.” He chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “This Christmas is gonna be so sweet!”

You roll your eyes. “Go sit down,” you laugh. You look out the door and see snow gently falling, but no Loki. You didn’t know how much you really wished he would be here until you figured he wasn’t coming. I miss you.

You looked toward where Jerry was. Thor and Tony glared at him. Nat was giving her fake smile. Bruce was fiddling with something in his hands. You felt bad for Jerry. You knew that you were a distraction from his real love, Tulip, but she was dating one of his co-workers.

“Darling, why stay with that quickster? I know who you really want, and it isn’t him. It never was.” You knew that voice. Oh no. Within a fifty mile radius, you could hear people’s thoughts without physical contact, as long as they were directed toward you. You gulped as his thoughts and mind reading powers mixed with yours.

You weren’t invited, Loki, you think back. You could tell he was amused by that statement. He knew the truth. He was in his mind, just as you were now in his. You wanted him to come, and he knew it.

“Based off of your current train of thought, love, I would say I was. Tell me that book you wanted, again?” You light up immediately.

You can’t be serious! Really? You’re coming?

“Of course I am. Are you going to tell me the title or not?” You quickly tell him the correct name of the book, getting giddy just thinking about seeing him. Your face is hot and your hands are shaking. You can almost hear his snickering and your smile falters some. There was a knock on the window.  You look. “Oh, good. Now. Open the door?” he calls, his voice muffled by the glass.

You were sure that you died. He played you. He waved through the window, and here you were, thinking that he was just on his way. You growl at him and stomp out to the door and open it. The air is cold and crisp and bites at your ears and makes your skin erupt with goosebumps. “Loki!” You shout so loud that he winces. So much for godly ears.

He turns around and grins at you. He opens his arms out for a hug, and to also take credit for such a cruel prank. You roll your eyes, punching his stomach lightly. He makes a face, but before he can truly say anything, you hug him tightly. “You’re so mean,” you whine into his shoulder, feeling him hug you back with just as much force.

He chuckled and sighs. “Am I?” he playfully mocks back. You groan, shutting your eyes. You breathe in his sweet scent. What was it? Peppermint? Ice? You didn’t care. It was Loki. “I knew you would start wondering where I was.” You play with the soft, silly strands of his raven hair. You longed to tangle your fingers in the locks.

He pulls back some. “Shall we go in? I assume you don’t quite like the cold.”

“Of course, you big silly!” You sigh and hop away. “Let’s go!” You gently take his hand and pull him. Then you stop and think: What if I get caught?

He interlaced your fingers. “Darling, I can tell you that only two people in that house know what’s really going on, and that’s Thor and Tony Stark.” He smiled. “Please. You know me better than anyone. Everybody will just think I’m playing another prank.”

You gulp and nod. Sure. Why not? You smile and gesture for him to take the lead. He starts running, not even giving you time to find footing. Before you know it, you’re sliding through the door, laughing and trying to get your hand back. “Loki! Oh, norns! Stop!” you scream with joy.

“What’s the magic word?” he dares, now picking you up. You let out a shout. He holds you like a knight would a princess, but you hope that the cold air from outside was enough of an excuse for your blush.

“Please?” That was your guess, but knowing him, it wasn’t it. He shakes his head. He thinks a sentence to you: In the end you’ll always . . . what?  “Just let me go!” you beg, kicking your legs some. You’re holding on for dear life because oh my goodness he was tall!

“If you want me to just drop you—” he tries, loosening his grip as he says it. You yelp.

“Kneel! I’ll kneel!” you say, finally giving in. He gently sets you down. You try to punch his shoulder but he catches your fist. He smirks. You roll your eyes and get on your knees. He shakes his head and makes a dramatic sigh.

“Dearest brother, has our friend Jerry Allen been informed about, ah, the current situation?” He looks over to Thor, who’s smirking. You were so confused. You gulp.

“Shall I inform our most loveliest of hosts that she’s under mistle-tong?” You blush insanely. Loki . . . ! The dumb trickster! He takes your hands and swooshed you into his arms, moving under the mistletoe, too. He’s cupping your face and bringing you closer and closer to his. You’re resisting the urge to melt, and he hasn’t even kissed you, yet.

He looks lovingly at you. For a moment, you wonder if it’s really just a dream. “Admit that you love me,” he whispers, almost begging you to confirm this.

You pull back and rest your hands on his shoulders. His other hand is on your hip. “What am I supposed to say? I wanted everyone I love here with me tonight, if possible.”

“So you are in love with me?” He smirked widely and you leant in more than you meant to. He grins. “Finally.” You blush and try to push him away some. He looked almost overjoyed. He was right: You were in love with him. Deeply. But there were so many people you didn’t want to hurt.

“I-I don’t know what you mean!” you sputter, but your arms snake around his neck. “I love Jerry.” Dumb excuse, yes, but you were trapped. Loki had caught you, quite literally. Not to mention he was digging around in your mind.

“About as much as you love my brother. Could we stop this ridiculous cat and mouse?” Loki asked. You sigh.

“Jerry knows, right?” You bite your lip, feeling Loki hold you even closer. Your noses touched. He smirks, and you resist the urge to look behind you when you hear Jerry’s soft laugh.

“Well, if he didn’t, he does now. And he seems fine with it.” You sigh. You look up at Loki, cupping his face toward yours.

“Good. Now kiss me, before I go nuts.” He happily pressed his lips to yours, holding you close. You kissed back with relief and excitement and as much love as you knew how to.

[mcfiddlestan]

WinterFrost Single Dads AU

Okay, I promised you a second chapter. Contains a flashback scene so...there's that, lol. Still looking for suggestions for a title.

xoxo, La

P.S. I'm totally working on a banner too. 🖤

Pairing: Loki x Bucky Barnes (there are others past and future, but I’m not giving them away just yet)

Rating: M

Word count: 2,712

Summary: Loki is living a great life as a Manhattan lawyer and constantly partying with Tony Stark, his best friend. Loki’s life before he came to New York more than a decade ago is a mystery for those close to him. But it’s all about to come to light when he gets a call from someone in his past.

Bucky is just trying to catch a break. A few hookups with a fellow soldier led to a quickie marriage and baby – and two years later, a quick divorce. His daughter is now eight years old and the light of his life. But he can’t seem to get his shit together. Struggling to find a job and keep a hold on his sobriety, it’s a one-night stand that gives him the kick in the ass he needs to be the man his daughter believes he is.

Warnings: Mature language and situations, some drug use, and talk about addiction.

Read chapter one here.

Chapter 2

“It’s good to hear your voice, brother. After all this time.”

Loki was silent, struggling to find his words. Finally, he let out a short, frustrated breath and pressed his fingers to the dull ache still pulsating at his temple. “Let’s not pretend to reminisce, Thor. It’s been far too long for that.” Thor let out an anxious chuckle over the line. “What’s so urgent that you called four times? And left no message.”

“Ah, Loki. I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“What is it? Just say it. I’m sure it’s not as difficult as you might think. Is Odin on his deathbed?”

Silence. “…Loki.”

“I can’t imagine he’d encourage you to call me with the news.”

“Loki.”

“I highly doubt it would be my face he would want to see as his last image before he finally leaves this earth.”

“Loki!”

“What?!”

Thor sighed, muttered a curse in Norwegian. “For Norn’s sake, I didn’t call you to talk about Odin.” Loki remained quiet this time, waiting. When Thor spoke again, his voice was lower and thick with emotion. “It’s…it’s Sigyn. She’s gone.”

Loki’s breath released in one big whoosh. His hand moved, pressed to the center of his chest, where a sharp pain began to bloom. “Wh—what? I—when?”

“Yesterday.”

“But…” She’s only thirty-two years old, he thought. She’s still so young. Loki made incomprehensible noises for a moment, too many questions springing into his mind. Finally, he settled on one. “H…how?”

“Uh, a brain hemorrhage. She was in a car accident a few days ago. She seemed fine, with no visible injuries. And then…she wouldn’t wake up. By the time we got her to the hospital…it was too late.”

Loki squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the phone away from his ear, pressing his mouth to his wrist to muffle his cry.

“Loki?” Thor’s voice reached him.

“Yes, I—” He had to catch his breath. “Why didn’t anyone call me sooner? What about the boys? Were they with her in the car? Are they all right?”

“No, they weren’t with her. They’re just fine. Well, as fine as two young boys can be after losing their mother.” Thor went quiet as Loki struggled to contain his tears and hide his sniffling. “Loki, Sigyn left a will.”

Loki cleared his throat and mopped at his face with his sleeve. “She what?”

“Her attorney contacted Mother because she’s listed as a contact for the boys, and he says she left some instructions. He’s asked that you and Mother, and any other family, get together so he may let us know what she wished to happen following her…death.”

Loki went quiet again. What instructions? “Right.” Whatever they were, Loki couldn’t deal with it at the moment. “Erm, listen, Thor, I’m going to have my assistant call you later. If you could get all the information for her arrangements to him — times and dates and the location’s address so I can send some flowers ahead — I’d appreciate it. I’m going to try to find the next flight out. I’ll let you know when I arrive.”

Thor hesitated. “Well, Loki, there’s something I have to —”

“We’ll talk when I get there, all right. I promise. Thank you for calling, Thor.” Loki ended the call before Thor could say more. Dropping the phone to the coffee table before him and his head in his hands, Loki fell back on the sofa, letting the tears come. As Loki let the grief overwhelm him, he thought back to the last time he saw Sigyn — the one he always considered got away.

----------------------------------------------

“You can’t just leave with them! Those are my children!”

“Yes, I can. They are my children, too.” Sigyn stood still in the small living room of their tiny house while Loki paced around her. His breath came in short huffs; his pale cheeks had gone red. She’d never seen Loki this upset in the entire time they’d known each other. Barely three years. “Don’t you see it’s better this way for everybody?”

Loki suddenly stopped before her, demanding to know how it was better. Sigyn jolted at his sharpened tone, and he forced himself to reign in his temper. “It’s not better for me,” he said in a softer yet still tense voice.

“Will you please calm down, darling?”

Loki scoffed and started pacing again. “Sigyn, don’t use that tone with me. Where are you going to go? Back home to your father?”

Sigyn breathed in, letting it out on a soft sigh. She was waiting for the question. And dreading his response to — well, all of it. “Yes. For now. He and Mamma are making space for us as we speak. Loki, you’re not welcome here anymore.” She swallowed when he turned those hard emerald eyes on her. “Do you not see how you’re now ostracized? Everybody blames you for Baldur’s — accident.”

Loki continued to glare, even as his eyes filled. “You said you believed me.”

“I do.”

“Baldur had many more issues than anyone in this family was willing to hear about or deal with, and I tried to help him; I was the only one who would listen. I didn’t know he grabbed it! How was I to know that he would —“

“You were there!” Sigyn’s frustration and pain came through her words, too. “That was enough — for most people. Your very presence was enough to place the blame where they can find no other. I know, Loki. I know no one knew him as you did. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy to blame you and not him. But — your children — our children cannot grow up in that shadow, Loki. They’ll never have a chance.”

All the fight left in Loki vanished at that moment; he had been defeated. He knew Sigyn, the light of his life, the woman he didn’t know he’d always wanted, was right, but still… “What am I supposed to do?” he asked, his voice small, his eyes welling.

Sigyn’s eyes filled, as well, and she stepped forward, reaching for Loki’s hands. “Live your life, my darling.” Loki met her gaze directly. “You won’t have much of a chance here either. Odin will make sure you don’t.” He nodded. “You had so many plans to make something of yourself, to be more than your father’s legacy. Don’t let any of this stop you.”

Loki sniffled, shook his head, gripping Sigyn’s hand as if it was his only lifeline. “How? How am I supposed to do any of it without you?”

Sigyn smiled through watery eyes when Loki looked into her eyes again. “Take what’s left of your inheritance.” Loki cocked a brow. “Odin won’t fight you on that. And you don’t need me, Loki. You never have. Remember what we said?”

He briefly closed his eyes before looking up to the ceiling, almost as if in prayer, nodding. “We are strong on our own, just stronger together.”

“Right,” she agreed softly.

Loki’s breath hitched. “But what if I don’t feel like that anymore, Sigyn? What if I don’t…” his voice broke, and when he spoke again, it was in a cracking whisper. “What if I don’t know how to live without you?”

Sigyn buried her face in Loki’s chest then, fitting into his side like two jigsaw puzzle pieces coming together perfectly. “You’ll learn,” she all but croaked. “You’ll adapt, just as you always have done.” She tipped her head back to smile up at him, even as a tear escaped down the side of her cheek. “You’re a survivor, my Loki. You always have a plan.”

Loki grinned, brushing away the tear, moving his fingers across Sigyn’s skin to brush at the soft curling hairs at her temple. “And where do you suggest I go, my Sigyn? Min kjære.” His eyes filled again. “Since you seem to have all the answers.”

Sigyn stepped back, raised her hand, pressing it to the side of Loki’s face, as much to bring his eyes back to her as to dry the tears sliding down his sharp-angled cheek. “Anywhere. Everywhere. London. Paris. Rome. You always wanted to go to America.”

Loki took another shaky breath as he pulled her hand from his face, twisting his wrists to hold both of her hands against his chest. “Who am I if I’m not your partner? Or their father?”

“You are Loki Laufeyson. You are your own man.”

Loki scoffed again, with much more disgust this time. “Norns. I hate that name.”

“Then change it.”

The tears subsided; Loki let out a weak chuckle and lifted his brows in question. “Change it? To what?”

Sigyn grinned softly, shrugged, and stepped back further, gently tugging her hands from Loki’s grasp. “To whatever you want, min skatt. I know you won’t take Odinson. You could take my name.” They grinned at each other. “Maybe Friggasson?”

Loki breathed a chuckle, then paused. His breathing had finally calmed. But his heart still ached, his stomach still twisted in knots. “Are you sure about this, Siggy?”

She smiled even as her eyes filled with tears again. Her chin trembled, and it was all Loki could do not to grab her close and hold her. “No,” she answered, her voice wavering, “but I know it’s what I have to do for my boys.”

Loki knew he was fighting a losing battle. His heart was breaking, but he had to accept this, his new fate. They stood there, facing each other, in silence, both knowing it was time for this to end but neither knowing how to do it.

“I should probably get going. I have a long drive ahead of me.”

“Sigyn —” Loki stopped her, touching his fingers to her arm before she could move away. She looked up at him, her big blue eyes questioning, and, almost automatically, turned, so her hand rested on his forearm. Loki tugged her closer, lifting his hands to frame her face. Unsure what to say, Loki simply tilted up her chin and laid his lips on hers. Sigyn made a slight noise in her throat, but she didn’t pull away, and Loki slipped his hands into her wavy copper hair, deepening the kiss. Moments later, Sigyn eased her mouth away.

“Loki. Stop.”

He kept her close, resting his forehead on hers. “Come with me. Please? We’ll take the boys. We’ll go somewhere — anywhere you want.”

“Loki. No,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to leave my home.”

“You are leaving your home,” Loki insisted. He felt Sigyn pull further away, and this time, reluctantly, he let her go.

“I need to go. Do…” Sigyn’s breath hitched, and she did her best to dry her eyes and cheeks. “Do you want to say goodbye to the boys?”

Loki had turned away, a hand covering his face, but he looked at Sigyn now, with tears in his eyes, and nodded.

Sigyn walked out of the room and disappeared down the hallway. When she emerged again, she headed back into the living room, this time holding the hand of a dark-haired boy just over a year old who toddled beside her and another boy, an infant with lighter, reddish wisps of hair, nestled in the crook of her arm.

Loki smiled as best he could, reaching for the baby they’d named Valí, wiggling in Sigyn’s arms, and fought tears as he pressed his lips to the baby’s forehead. He whispered to him in Norwegian as Valí, just a few months old, blinked up at him with dark-blue eyes. Sigyn moved forward to take Valí, and Loki bent to pick up his oldest son, Narfi.

Narfi let out a giggle and immediately wrapped his short arms around Loki’s neck. Loki kissed his cheek, running a hand over his short dark curls. “Take care of your Mamma. And know that your Papa loves you. Always,” he managed on a broken whisper.

Sigyn, Loki was somewhat relieved to see, was fighting her own tears, wiping at her face again as Loki set Narfi on his feet. “We never said this was going to be forever, Loki.”

Loki sniffled as he nodded and tried to regain his composure. “No, we didn’t. But I was counting on it. It would be nice if just one thing in my life were permanent.”

Sigyn reached for Narfi’s hand, and together, they started for the door. Unsure how he would make it through these next few minutes, Loki moved ahead of them to hold the door open.

“Will you call me when you get there?”

Sigyn stopped beside him and shook her head. “No, Loki. I’m afraid this goodbye has to be it.”

Loki nodded. She was barely over the threshold when he snagged her hand, the one holding Narfi’s tiny one. “I love you, Sigyn. I always have, and I always will. And if you ever change your mind…” He left the rest of the sentence dangle between them.

Sigyn nodded, tears welling and spilling. “I’m so sorry things had to be this way. I want you to know that I will love you until my dying day, Loki.”

His breath hitched again. Loki unwillingly released Sigyn, and a hand flew up to his mouth as he tried to stifle the cry that inevitably escaped him. He stood there — he didn't know long — until the sound of Sigyn’s car had long faded into the distance.

----------------------------------------------

Loki was self-aware enough to know the day Sigyn left had changed him significantly. After that, he stopped looking for love or any kind of meaningful connection beyond friendship. He took Sigyn’s advice, and after securing his inheritance from Odin, who readily and happily released it, Loki left for America. And he never looked back. He earned his law degree and managed to establish himself as a ruthless and successful attorney over the next ten years.

Loki met the infamous Tony Stark in the first year of his arrival to New York at a party on campus. Tony wasn’t a student — in fact, he was a couple of years older than Loki — but he was somehow popular with everyone, Loki found. After a very brief dalliance, they remained close friends, and years later, when Tony’s father Howard died, Tony inherited Howard’s multi-million dollar, multinational company, Stark Industries, and hired Loki as his in-house counsel. Together, Loki and Tony lived two very different versions of bachelor life. Tony, a known playboy, none too discreetly kept a busy schedule of beauties, both male and female, rotating through his bedroom door. Whereas Loki, who never directly declared his sexuality yet neither ignored a mutual attraction to whatever gender or sexuality presented itself, kept his private business private. They’d indulged themselves in anything and everything, bringing along Tony’s friends, Pepper Potts and James Rhodes. In their wildest years, there were entire days Loki couldn’t remember.

Waking from a deep sleep brought on by the exhaustion of grief and his crying, in what was now late afternoon if the sun’s position meant anything, Loki abruptly decided a night of indulgence was precisely the kind of distraction he needed. He reached for his phone again, ignoring the messages and missed calls from Fandral and what he recognized as the number where he had reached Thor, and dialed Tony’s number from memory. “Stark. Get dressed. I’ll be at the Tower in fifteen minutes. I need your expertise.”

Loki used Tony’s influence all over the city that night, though his own name carried as much if not equal prestige in some places. They went to various clubs, private establishments, and the occasional bar or pub, looking for anything that would provide a good time. Loki had never been a big drinker and only dabbled in recreational drug use, but he was chucking everything aside tonight, hoping to kill the deep-seated ache in his heart that Sigyn’s passing had left behind.

They picked up a few people along the way, creating their own little entourage. And as usual, it was Tony who seemed to be enjoying himself more than anyone. But it was later in the evening, in a dark little bar in Brooklyn Heights, that Loki would find the exact kind of distraction for which he’d been searching.

[rigmarolling]

Myth Time: Loki and the Goat

Once upon a time, the ice giantess/goddess/resident “I-have-no-indoor-voice friend” Skadi was upset about Asgard killing her dad, so she kicked down the door to their victory party and went, “WHO’S THE LITTLE PISSANT WHO KILLED MY FATHER?”

Everyone just stared, mouths full of feast food, and pointed to Loki like

And Loki went

Skadi glowered, axe in hand and went, “If you people don’t FIX this IMMEDIATELY, heads will roll, and by heads, I specifically mean--” and she swung her head in a certain jötunn’s direction-- “that head.”

And Loki was like

Odin immediately went into PR cleanup mode and said, “You’re right--we’re either advertently or inadvertently responsible for the death of your father. What is it that you want?”

And Skadi leaned in and hissed between her teeth, “I want blood.”

Odin, who generally preferred to be literally anywhere else about 95% of the time, went 

and said, “Right, well, we’re in the middle of something right now, so besides bloodshed, what can we do to make reparations?”

Skadi narrowed her eyes. Sniffed. Looked around imperiously at the idiots with mouths full of mutton, and said, “I want three things.”

“Name them,” Odin said.

Skadi propped her axe against the wall, straightened up, and looked down at Odin through her frosted eyelashes.

“One,” she said, “I want you to cast my father’s eyes into the sky so they will be immortalized as eternal, shining stars.”

Odin went

but did it, anyway, because everyone’s got their quirks; who was he to judge?

Then, brushing the eyeball goo off of his hands, Odin asked, “What’s the second thing?”

Skadi sniffed.

“Secondly, I demand that one of you makes me laugh.”

The gods shifted in their seats. If they weren’t nervous before, they absolutely were now, because Skadi never laughed. Like, ever. 

“Skadi never laughs,” Thor muttered in disbelief. “Like, ever.”

Skadi’s head swiveled in his direction. “Did you say something, you walking sausage roll?”

Thor quickly swallowed the bite of pie he’d been chewing. “No, no. Nothing.”

“My liege lady,” Odin said quickly, his tone suddenly silken. “Why not something...simpler? We wouldn’t want to insult you with lukewarm attempts at humor, after all--”

“Someone,” Skadi declared imperiously, “had better make me laugh, or I swear by the Norns, I will garrote each and every one of you with your own intestines while your children watch on the sidelines and weep for their gutless progenitors!”

Thor blinked and went,

But they had no choice. So, sweating slightly and fighting back anxiety pee, the gods each took their turn trying to make Skadi laugh. 

Tyr, the god of war, tried some biting political satire. Skadi didn’t even blink.

Idunn, the goddess of youth, rattled off a few celebrity impressions, but was really more of a “behind the scenes” sort of gal, so Skadi remained stone-faced.

Baldr quoted a few lines from The Importance of Being Earnest, but nobody knew what the hell he was talking about or who the hell Oscar Wilde was, so that was bust.

Thor tried his hand at that one “orange you glad I didn’t say banana” knock knock joke that you thought was the pinnacle of comedy when you were five, but he blew it three times before Skadi shot him a look that could have incinerated steel and he hurried back to his seat.

Frigg, goddess of foresight, tossed out a few legitimately great quips about tech culture in Silicon Valley, but being the goddess of foresight generally meant that she was the only one who would get her references for at least 1,000 years. Skadi, flummoxed, simply scowled.

There was enough awful improv to make even that insufferable guy in your college lit class cringe; there was bad, white-dad-at-a-wedding dancing; there were ham-fisted attempts at stand up, but very few gods understood the concept of “setup and payoff,” so every single bit flopped like a dead fish. 

Skadi was growing more and more irritable by the second. Her mouth had all but disappeared into a thin line, and her fingers had started twitching, which usually meant she was either bored or hadn’t punched anything in at least an hour.

Worst of all, mid-way through Bragi’s frankly atrocious tagelharpa routine, Skadi had walked away, retrieved her axe, and sat it down next to her. 

Bragi, who wouldn’t have noticed a nuclear detonation if it exploded five feet away as long as he was in the middle of a performance, continued, undeterred.

Meanwhile, Loki had been watching from the sidelines, leaning up against an outer wall of the mead hall, his arms crossed, his jaw clenched.

By the time Bragi got to what had to be the 23rd verse, Loki went 

and made his way to where Bragi was going on about something to do with a wolf swallowing the sun, nothing important, and hissed, “Stop. Just stop. Just stop! Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with you people?”

Then, letting out a huff of frustration, he loped over to the nearby pasture-- which was full of livestock just minding their own business, they didn’t ask for any of this, really-- and whistled at a goat.

The goat, who on some instinctual level knew exactly what was about to happen because he’d been around Loki long enough to know that something always happened, let out a sigh and trotted over. 

Then, casting the goat a glance that clearly said, “I owe you one, buddy,” Loki pulled a rope seemingly out of nowhere and, with a look of determination that made everybody in the vicinity incredibly uneasy, dropped his pants.

“What the hell?” cried Freyja, goddess of love and war and death, how metal, love her.

But Loki was in full frat mode at this point. 

His goods swinging free for everyone to see, he tied one end of the rope around the goat’s horns.

And the other to his own testicles.

Immediately objecting to having himself tethered to balls that belonged to this guy of all people, the goat began to pull backwards.

Loki let out a thin whine, his face draining of all color, and stumbled forward.

The men in the group looked faintly nauseated. 

With a breathless sort of grunting sound, Loki tugged back, pulling the goat forward. But the goat was just done with this shit, oh my God, what the hell? and bucked backward with an indignant, “Baa!” 

Loki skittered forward again with a yelp and then hurled himself in the opposite direction, “baa-ing” right back. 

And on it went--the goat leaping back and pulling Loki balls-first with him, and Loki tugging back until the goat stumbled unceremoniously forward. 

At this point, the other gods and goddesses were howling with laughter and/or sympathy pain, and Loki had never known anything but suffering, holy shit, oh, God, I fucked up, I actually did it, I actually permanently fucked up this time for real, oh, sweet mother of God, this goat is the worst goat in the world, just--just the worst fucking goat, just a really, really bad fucking goat--

His vision spotty, his lower half engulfed with the sort of agony that was all-encompassing and obliterating and just oh my God, you’re a fucking idiot, you really, really are, Loki gave one last, mighty tug, roaring like a cat in heat, and the rope snapped, sending the goat skittering back and Loki tumbling, butt cheeks-first, right into Skadi’s lap.

There was a thick, heavy silence. Loki let out a series of noises that sounded like an anemic balloon slowly being deflated. 

And suddenly, Skadi began to laugh.

And laugh.

And laugh.

She laughed so hard, she had to screw her eyes shut to stem the flow of tears. She laughed so hard, she actually stopped making noise and took to wheezing, instead.  

In her lap, Loki had lost all sense of space and time and would have really liked to have thrown up, thanks, but to his credit, everyone else was laughing so hard, they’d all started to cry-wheeze, too, so he settled for rolling to the side in a fetal position and clutching his now grotesquely swollen balls, distantly thinking, “That’s showbiz, baby.”

“Well,” said Odin over the din of laughter, clapping his hands together and smiling despite himself, “that settles it, Skadi! We’ve made you laugh. Reparations are made, and no hard feelings, hmm?”

As abruptly as she’d started, Skadi suddenly stopped cackling. Her face, which only a second earlier had been stretched wide in a grin, collapsed back into Miranda Priestly coolness.

“No,” she bit out. “That does not settle it. I still require one more thing.”

Odin had known that; he’d simply hoped she’d been distracted enough that she’d forgotten.

*Narrator voice* she hadn’t.

“Of course.” Odin plastered on a smile and said between his teeth, “Name it.”

Something in Skadi’s glittering, cool eyes softened. Her gaze roved appraisingly over the gods gathered around her.

“I want a husband.”

The men assembled felt a collective scrotum twinge of apprehension.

From his place curled up on the ground, Loki wheezed, “Not it.”

[lokigayforhela]

Hi, may I request Hela x reader where reader is a soldier or a warrior of Hela and unfortunately the reader gets heavily injured during a conquest? Thanks and btw I love love love your writing.

drops in in the middle of the night to give you this Briefly proofread story that I wrote in an hour

Sorry I’ve been gone so long. Apartment hunting, packing, and moving really take a lot out of a girl, but I’ll try to get back into writing a little more consistently now.

Trigger Warning for mention of blood and violence, but nothing too graphically described

The battle around you had been raging on for more than an hour, and you’d watched as friends and enemies alike had fallen, one after the other, sometimes multiple at a time. You’d been doing this for long enough that none of it was very shocking to you anymore, but you had to admit that Hela was rather… creative in the ways that she killed sometimes.

While the rest of you were left to fight in hand to hand combat, with little more than swords, and daggers in a pinch, Hela had the distinct advantage of her powers. Her ability to draw weapons from thin air, and send them off just as quickly as she conjured them, was an unmatched asset on the battlefield, and often you found yourself wondering if the only reason Asgard was so often successful had little to do with the legions and everything to do with your commander.

Not that Hela’s skill made your job any easier. You were still a warrior, and you were still necessary, and a handful of times you’d even managed to keep soldiers distracted from Hela so she could be unhindered while she worked, circumstances that had not gone unnoticed by Hela, which had led to the… special arrangement between the two of you.

Long days on the battlefield had, indeed, become much more bearable now that you got to spend nights with Hela. It was your little secret, and if anyone else had any idea of what was going on, they were smart enough to keep it to themselves, something you and Hela were both extremely grateful for.

The stark sound of two weapons clashing together brought you back to the present, and you cursed yourself for getting lost in thought at such an inopportune moment, and immediately got back to the task at hand, fending off a couple of enemy soldiers who had gotten a little too close to Hela for comfort, and once they were down, you glanced back at Hela, to see how she was faring in the battle.

For the briefest moment, you let yourself watch in awe as Hela turned, far gracefully than anyone else you’d ever seen mid-battle, sending a spray of weapons in every direction that found their marks in at least a dozen soldiers, their pained cries echoing around you amidst the other sounds of the battle. You caught Hela’s eye for a fraction of a second, managing a tired, albeit proud, little smirk that quickly soured on your face as your brow furrowed in confusion as you saw Hela yell out something you couldn’t quite make out.

It wasn’t until she started running toward you that you became aware of the burning sensation that felt like it was ripping you in two, and you looked down to see the very tip of a sword protruding from your stomach.

You weren’t entirely sure what happened in the immediate moments afterward. You heard screaming, but you couldn’t tell from whom, or for what reason, but the next thing you knew, you were on the ground, and all you could focus on was how much everything just hurt, hurt, hurt.

“Soldier. Y/N. Keep those eyes open, we’re getting you an escort off the battlefield.”

That sounded like Hela, but it also sounded like she was speaking from somewhere far away, or perhaps underwater, you couldn’t decide. You blinked your eyes open, unaware of when they had even closed, and tried to focus on the figure leaning over you, to unaware to realize that it was Hela herself.

“Get her out of here, right now. That’s an order!”

You felt your eyelids growing heavy again, and when you let your eyes close, you were subsequently met with a pat on the side of your face.

“Eyes open, soldier.”

You couldn’t even find it in you to be upset that Hela was being formal with you. You were too tired, too confused, too hurt.

You didn’t even realize when you slipped into unconsciousness.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of hushed arguing woke you, and you spent what felt like hours struggling to find the energy just to open your eyes while you tried to hear what was being said.

Whoever was speaking currently sounded extremely angry, and it only took you a few seconds to realize that it was Hela, and she was furious.

“I’m not asking anymore, I’m telling you I am going inside to visit my soldier, and you will leave us. I’m still the princess.”

You heard nothing but the sound of movement in response, and then moments later you heard a door open as you finally managed to blink your eyes open, trying to focus on the ceiling above you to ground yourself.

“….Y/N?” Hela’s voice came out much softer, then, and you knew you must have been alone now. She never spoke to anyone that softly around others, even you, even after everything the two of you had been through.

You intended to answer her, but your brain was a little too foggy, and your tongue a little too heavy in your mouth, and all that came out was a tired little pained groan, but it was enough to catch Hela’s attention as she sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over you to look at you better.

“Thank the Norns, you’re awake. We were all worried we hadn’t gotten you to the healers in time.”

You only nodded in response, and tried to push yourself up to sit, wincing when you felt pain shot down your body. Hela shook her head with the ghost of a fond smile, and placed a hand on your shoulder to keep you still.

“You’ll aggravate the wound if you try to move.”

You blinked at her, and after a short while, you began to remember what had happened. The battle, the soldiers. The wound you’d sustained. You swallowed a few times, in hopes it would help you to work your mouth a little better, and then tried to speak.

“…what happened?” Your voice came out far raspier than you’d intended, but Hela only smiled tightly in response.

“You, my lucky little warrior, survived a sword through the abdomen. Not many can say that. We had to get you here as fast as possible so the healers could stop the bleeding enough to work with their healing crystals.”

“I meant… the battle… What happened with the battle?”

Hela seemed to fixate on the headboard behind you, and you could tell she was choosing what to say and how to say it. “We… retreated.”

You stared at her in complete disbelief. “…you’ve never retreated.”

“Yes, well. I’ve never had a compelling reason to retreat.”

Oh.

That made things a little more interesting.

“…you retreated… because of me?”

Hela glanced at you, as if she was sizing you up a bit, and then went back to staring at the wall. “Well, what was I supposed to do, Y/N?”

“You were supposed to let me die, like all of the other Asgardians who have laid down their life for the cause, for your cause.”

“Y/N…”

“How do you think the other warriors feel, knowing you’ve let their friends and family die in countless battles, but I get injured once and you pull all the troops from Vanaheim?”

“Y/N, that’s not-”

“None of us are meant to get special treatment. We all knew what we were signing up for when we started training, and I’m not any dif-”

“Y/N, you’re not like all of the other soldiers!” Hela’s voice was harsher than it had been, and you found yourself blinking dumbly at her in response, unable to say anything and instead opting to see if Hela had more she wanted to say. “You’re not just some soldier that signed a few papers, and did a few months of training, and then went off with the rest of the ranks. You’re not them.”

You swallowed thickly. “…then what am I, your highness.”

Hela visibly winced at the formal title, and you wondered if you had taken it too far. The long silence that followed wasn’t any easier to sit through, and Hela took so long to speak that you were worried she wasn’t going to speak at all, but finally she took a deep breath, and looked back at you.

“…you’re the woman I love. And I can’t just let you die because of me.”

A part of you wanted to soften at the admission, but you found yourself feeling just as confused as you felt relieved that she felt the same way you’re realized you were feeling.

“Hela, it wouldn’t be because of you. Every single one of us that goes off to fight, in any war, knows there’s a chance we won’t come back. We’re trained for that. You know that.”

Hela said nothing, only averted her gaze to look down at the bed, and you wondered when she’d taken your hand in hers. The expression on her face was so uncertain, so vulnerable that you couldn’t find it in you to be upset any longer, and you gently squeezed her hand, running your thumb along her knuckles.

“…I guess I owe you my life now, huh?”

Hela huffed out a quiet laugh. “You’re never going near a battlefield ever again.” Hela looked back up at you. “I mean it. You’ve been honorably discharged.” Hela smiled a bit, something a little closer to her usual cocky smirk. “I hear there’s talk of a medal, as well. Something about dedication to protecting your commander and princess.”

You laughed quietly. “Oh, yeah? And do any perks come with that, or is it all just for show?”

“…you might or might not be getting special quarters in the Royal apartments here in the palace.”

You looked at her, unsure if you’d hear her correctly. “…is that allowed?”

“Please. I’m the princess, and I get what I want.”

“…I suppose I can’t argue with that logic.”

Hela grinned. “No, you cannot, so don’t try to change my mind. Besides… that’ll make our little trysts much more convenient.”

You smiled a little, as well, and fought the urge to sit up and kiss her. “…do you have to go soon?”

“…not for a while.”

You nodded, and tugged on her hand gently. “…lay with me?”

That was all it took for Hela to kick her slippers off and shift so that she could lay next to you, carefully curling into your side so as not to jostle you.

For a few long moments, you just settled in silence, threading your fingers with Hela’s as the both of you got comfortable.

“…how bad was it? Truly?”

Hela turned her head to look at you. “I thought we were going to lose you. I’ve been fighting since I was a little girl, and I’ve never seen so much blood come from one person so quickly. Your face was whiter than a sheet by the time you finally lost consciousness.”

You nodded slowly. “It all happened so quickly, I hardly had any time to react.”

“I know. Lucky I was already looking at you when it happened, or I might not have been able to jump to action as quickly as I did.”

“…what happened after that?”

Hela kept watching you, gaze soft as she studied you. “I called for the Bifrost right then and there. Told all the troops to follow, and brought you to the healers as quickly as I could. I didn’t even let anyone else touch you. I knew I was losing you.”

You couldn’t bear how sad Hela looked, and you brought your hands up so you could kiss the back of her hand gently. “…but you didn’t. And that’s what matters.”

“…you’re right. You’re safe here, and healing quickly. Did you know you’ve been out for most of a week? You woke up a few times, but were in so much pain all we could do was give you more sedatives in hopes of getting you to get back to sleep again.”

You kissed her hand again, and brought her palm up to press against your cheek. “Well, I’m not going anywhere now. You said so yourself.”

Hela nodded, and looked at you in silence for a long few moments before finally leaning forward to close the distance between you, pressing her lips to yours in the gentlest kiss she had ever given you. When she pulled back, she was looking at you so softly that you weren’t sure you could handle it. “Rest now, my darling. I’ll be right here when you wake.”

You nodded, and tried to shift a little to get more comfortable, using Hela’s shoulder as a pillow, but she didn’t seem to mind, and as you drifted off, you could just make out her humming softly to lull you to sleep.

You didn’t think you’d ever want to fall asleep any other way.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Dances and Daggers

Summary:   The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 4: The Indiscretion

Previous Chapter  |  Next Chapter

Word Count: 4,191

Chapter Summary:  Prince Loki’s Nameday Feast gets a little out of hand.

A/N: So, when I write stories, I usually follow a very strict, detailed, scene-by-scene outline-- otherwise, I loose track of what I'm supposed to be doing. I had one such outline for Dances and Daggers. However, when writing this chapter, Teki and Loki just... decided not to follow it. I was writing it with a specific plan in mind, and they were were just like "nope!" and went and did their own thing. So... yeah. This chapter looks very different than I originally planned. I'm kind of nervous about posting it, but it was a fun writing experience, and I hope you enjoy it!

Thanks for reading! :)

TW: mentions of child abuse, cursing, threats of violence

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae

Read it on Ao3!

“You look beautiful, Tekla,” her mother was saying. Teki inhaled sharply as she yanked a brush through her hair. “Everyone will adore you.”

She studied her reflection—or, more accurately, she studied the scarlet gown in her reflection.

“Mama,” she whispered. “Shouldn’t I be wearing green?” It was a losing battle and she knew it, but the thought of being the only one dressed in red was mortifying enough to make her fight it.

“Nonsense. Why would you wear anything but your betrothed’s colors?” Her mother twisted her hair into an elegant bun, Teki flinching as she shoved pins in too close to her scalp. “Tekla, stay still.”

“But it’s Prince Loki’s Nameday Feast,” she pleaded, still keeping her voice low enough so that Osvald couldn’t hear her complaining from the next room. “Everyone’s going to be wearing green—”

“Then you’ll stand out, as you should.” She patted her shoulder. “Well, are you ready?”

Teki stared into the mirror, her reflection only returning her misery.

…

Everyone was wearing green.

Teki slunk through the Great Hall with her head down, praying to the Norns or anyone listening that everyone was too distracted with their own problems to notice her, a bloodstain on a beautiful emerald tapestry. When she saw Thor approaching, she knew even that was too much to ask.

“Lady Tekla,” he said, bowing. “Would you honor me with this dance?”

She curtseyed, holding back a sigh. “It is I who would be honored, my prince.”

It was a short song, but somehow the dance lasted for eternity. They moved together stiffly, not saying a word, Teki’s gaze never rising above her partner’s chest. Somehow, she knew Thor had only asked her to satisfy the demands of his parents. That was all right, she told herself. After all, she only accepted to satisfy the demands of hers. Hopefully Mama and Osvald are watching. Still, she found herself thinking about the night Loki had given her his dagger, how nice it had felt to know that someone had asked her to dance simply because they wanted to dance with her.

When the music came to a close, he bowed, she curtseyed, and they both went their separate ways. Lurking at the refreshment table, she watched her fiancé rush to ask that same girl to dance. Sif. Who trained with the boys in the courtyard. She was saying something with a smirk on her face. Thor burst into laughter, his cackles booming across the room like a drum.

Teki bit her lip. Loki had told her that Sif was nothing more than a passing fancy, but she couldn’t imagine herself ever making Thor laugh like that. She couldn’t imagine herself ever making Thor laugh at all. She had always told herself that would change, that when the time came, they would learn to love each other and be happy together, but… what if it didn’t? Was this going to be the rest of her life—forced curtseys and stiff dances, smiling for the crowd before slipping away alone when it ended?

“Having a good time?”

Teki jumped. Prince Loki grinned, reaching out to steady her.

“Why do you always do that?” she whispered.

He chuckled. “Forgive me, my lady. This time was unintentional.”

This time. There was a snarky reply right on the edge of her lips, but Teki caught herself.

“Happy Nameday, my prince,” she said

He nodded, his green eyes never leaving hers. “Thank you.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Teki was the first to look away.

“Have—have you had a good Nameday, my prince?” she asked awkwardly.

Loki shrugged. “No different than all the previous, I suppose,” he said. “Namedays are rather exhausting, really. I don’t need a feast to remind the world that I exist.”

There was something in his eyes, a darkness that Teki couldn’t quite read, but she could tell he was upset. “I can understand that,” she said softly. “But sometimes a little reminder is nice, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps,” he mused, staring into the distance. “And yet it seems people forget regardless.” Suddenly his head snapped back to her. “I’m going to the lake. Do you want to come?”

Teki’s brain short-circuited. “I—what?”

“I’m going to the lake in the gardens,” he repeated. “Do you want to come with me?”

“But—you mean—” she stuttered, glancing around wildly. “We can’t just leave.”

“Sure we can. I do it all the time.”

“But—how?” How was he so nonchalant about this? “What if someone notices?”

“No one ever notices as these things.” He motioned to the room, to the couples on the dancefloor, clusters of people conversing in the corners, servants rushing through the crowd with trays of beverages. “Just look around—everyone’s living in their own little world.

Teki didn’t say anything. Her mind was whirring. Besides her, Loki ran a hand through his raven hair, shifting uncomfortably.

“You—you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” he said. The cocksure confidence seemed to have drained from his voice, leaving only hesitancy. “I—I don’t mean to pressure you. It’s just—it’s nice having someone to talk to.”

She frowned. This was a terrible idea. If someone saw that she was gone, if they told Osvald… this was a terrible idea. She knew it was a terrible idea. But Loki was right, likely more so than he realized. It is nice having someone to talk to.

Teki inhaled. “My stepfather—” her voice dropped to a whisper, as if merely mentioning his name could summon him. “We’d have to get back before he sees I’m gone, all right?”

He nodded vigorously, matching her urgent tone. “Of course. He’ll never know, I promise.”

“Okay,” she breathed. She couldn’t see any of her family from where they stood, which only exacerbated her fear that Osvald was going to pop out of the shadows and demand to know what she was doing.

Almost shyly, Loki offered her his hand. She took with equal timidity, her heart racing as his cold fingers closed around hers. What was wrong with her today?

She let him pull her out of the hall, through corridors she hadn’t realized even existed, until somehow they were standing outside, the warm summer air kissing her cheeks. Her pulse was thrumming.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this!” she murmured. It was madness. Tekla Osvalddottir didn’t sneak out in the middle of a feast to run around the gardens with a boy who was decidedly not her fiancé. But then again, she wasn’t Tekla Osvalddottir.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Loki asked. “Out here, you can actually hear yourself think.” He was right. The air was beautifully still. The only sounds she could hear were the crickets chirping in the distance. They made their way around the perimeter of the lake, eventually landing on the wooden dock that stretched out across the glittering water. For a while, they didn’t say anything.

“How often do you do this?” she asked after a bit. “You know, slipping away?”

Loki kicked at a pebble on the dock. “Oh, I don’t know. A lot. I don’t do it every time, but sometimes it’s just too much.” He laughed drily. “In case you can’t tell, I don’t particularly care for parties.”

“Not even your Nameday parties?”

“Especially not the Nameday parties! They’re so frustrating. Everyone’s pretending that they’re all celebrating for you, but they’re just looking for an excuse to get drunk.” He kicked the pebble one last time, watching as it plopped into the water below. “It’s all so fake. No one actually cares.”

Teki hesitated. There was something bothering him, definitely, but she didn’t know how to address it. How do you make someone feel better when you don’t know what’s causing them to feel bad in the first place?

“Well… I care,” she finally mumbled. The words hung awkwardly in the air, waiting for her to complete the thought, but Teki didn’t know what else to say.

Loki turned back to her. There were still pinpricks of bitterness in his emerald eyes, but they were slowly being overcome by a mischievous smirk. “Says the only person not swathed in my color.”

Teki burned. She knew everyone would notice. “That’s not my fault! My mother made me.” She scowled. “I wanted to wear green.”

His smirk widened. “Oh really? Were you going to dance with your fiancé wearing another’s color?” He covered his mouth in mock horror. “How scandalous!”

She rolled her eyes. “No more scandalous than sneaking away from your own feast, your highness.”

“True.” He wiggled his eyebrows, leaning in slowly. “This is all quite scandalous when you think about it.”

Teki giggled. “Stop it.” She shoved his chest playfully. It wasn’t that hard—her hands only just grazed his leather top—and yet, Loki flew backwards as if he had been hit by a skiff and tumbled over the side of the dock with a theatrical cry. Water splashed over the wood, soaking the bottom part of her skirt.

At first, Teki could only sputter. What just happened? She barely touched him, what was he thinking?

“Loki!” She peered over the edge of the dock into the rippling water. There was no sign of the prince. “Loki, what are you doing?”

It was a prank. It had to be a prank. The lake wasn’t even that deep, there was no way he couldn’t surface. But as the seconds ticked by, with no change in the inky waves, panic began to lodge in the back of Teki’s throat.

“Loki?” she called again, alarmed. What if he hit his head? Should she go in after him? Should she get somebody? How long would it take her to get back to the Great Hall? What if he stuck at the bottom and drowning? She knelt on the dock, leaning over as far as she could. “Lok—”

Without a warning, the prince shot out of the water like a leaping dolphin, grabbing ahold of her shoulders and yanking her down with him. The lake muffled her screams as she thrashed around like a wounded animal, desperately trying to surface. By the time she did she was shaking, gulping air like an addict. Behind her, Loki was chortling.

“You—” Teki didn’t have words. Droplets trickled down the sides of her face, her hair falling out its bun, her scarlet sleeves clinging to her arms like a clammy second skin.  “What—you—” she screeched like a bird. “Why would you do that?”

Loki only laughed harder.

She couldn’t believe this. The dress her mother had so carefully and so adamantly picked out was soaked—there was no way she could possibly return to the feast without causing a scene. Teki’s breath was coming too fast.

Why did she agree to go with Loki? Why?

“I—stop laughing!” she snapped, voice breaking. Loki fell quiet abruptly. Teki’s eyes were heating up. She blinked frantically, but the heat was climbing her throat as well. “My parents are going to kill me!” she whimpered.

Loki looked stricken. He swam toward her, hands outstretched. “Teki, I—”

She splashed water in his face. “Why would you do that?” she sobbed. “Why?”

“I was just—I meant it as a joke—”

“Well, it wasn’t funny!” she gulped. “How—how am I going to explain this?” He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me…

Loki reached out again cautiously. This time, she didn’t bother to push him away.

“Here, please.” Gently, he guided her towards the bank. She stumbled as they walked out of the water, the weight of her wet dress pulling her down. When she tripped on the uneven ground, Loki grabbed her to keep her from falling.

Water cascaded into the grass as she tried to wring her skirt out. Norns, she’d never be dry.

“Here,” Loki repeated. He was holding out a towel. Where… oh. Right. Magic.

Shakily, Teki tried to wipe away the sopping mess she had turned into. Loki watched with a shamefaced expression.

“It should dry fairly quickly,” he said softly. “It’s a warm night. By the time we get back no one will know the difference.”

She shook her head. “He will.” He always knows.

“I’ll put an illusion over you,” Loki insisted. “You’ll look exactly as you did when you arrived tonight. No one will tell the difference, I swear.”

Teki looked up at him. The prince hadn’t bothered to make any effort to dry himself. Water pooled at his feet as it streamed down the sides of his leather armor, streaking the gold embellishments. Black strands of hair clung to his cheeks, his forehead creased with guilt. She inhaled.

“Can we go somewhere else?” she asked quietly. The lake had lost its serenity.

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Well, well, well. What’s going on over here?” They both whipped around to see a figure stumbling down the embankment, illuminated by the moonlight.

Loki stiffened. “Fandral.”

“I was wondering where the little prince had gotten to,” the boy called Fandral laughed. There was something in his tone that Teki didn’t like. “You stopped sulking in the corner, I see.” He took a wrong step as he navigated the slope and was nearly the third person to end up in the lake that night, but righted himself just in time.

Teki was frozen. She recognized this Fandral—he was the same person who Thor had been pummeling in the courtyard a few weeks ago. What if he told the Crown Prince what his fiancé was up to when she wasn’t dancing with him? What if Thor told Osvald?

“Thor’s not here, Fandral,” Loki said tightly. “I haven’t seen him all night.”

“Aha. I get it. The little prince wants to be alone with his lady friend,” he smirked, aiming a wink at Teki that sent chills down her spine. He turned back to Loki. “Aren’t you a little young to be making girls wet?”

Teki flushed, and Fandral burst out into laughter. Loki grabbed her hand and started pulling her back towards the palace. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

“Wait, wait. I haven’t met the lady yet.” Fandral pushed towards her, leaning down so that his face was inches from hers. His breath stank of wine. “What’s your name, kitten?”

Teki smacked him.

What happened next was a blur. Fandral stumbled backwards, cursing. Loki yanked her arm—“Come on!”—and then they were sprinting across the palace grounds, the night air whistling through their wet clothing. They didn’t stop until they reached the noble apartments, at which point they collapsed on the grass in a panting, giggling mess.

“Oh my goodness,” she gasped. “I can’t believe I did that!”

“The look on his face!” Loki choked. “Did you see the look on his face?”

“I hit him!” she heaved, still trying to comprehend. “I can’t believe I hit him!”

Loki clapped his hands. “He deserved it. That was beautiful—”

“Is he going to tell everybody now?” The thought dampened her excitement. I’m going to have a criminal record by the time this night is through. “Am I going to get in trouble?”

The prince shook his head. “Don’t worry. Even if he is sober enough to remember what happened, he won’t tell anyone.” He snorted. “It wouldn’t do for the realm to know that Fandral the Dashing got slapped in the face by a girl.”

“What was he doing away from the feast anyways?” she asked. He hardly seemed like the type to abandon a party.

“I wouldn’t know. Looking for fun perhaps? Or maybe he just got lost.” Loki stood up, offering Teki his hand.  She let him pull her to her feet as well. “We still need to dry off,” he said apologetically.

“Wait. My apartment’s right around the corner. We can dry off in there.” She pulled him towards her window. Climbing the ivy wall shouldn’t be an issue—if Teki could do it, then surely the prince wouldn’t have any trouble. She tried not to think about how Osvald would react if he knew she was alone in their rooms with a boy.

Loki frowned, but followed her just the same. “But we can’t get in from here, can we?” he asked. “Don’t we have to go through the main palace?”

“No, there’s another way,” she said, gripping the vines as she reached the wall. She had never done this after dark before, but luckily the light of the moon was bright enough to see clearly. Teki pulled herself onto a foothold.

Behind her, Loki’s eyes were wide. “You’re going to climb that?”

“Sure. I do it all the time.” She pulled herself up the vine, bracing her feet against the wall. Going up was much more difficult than going down.

When Teki glanced back, she realized Loki hadn’t left the ground. “Are you coming?”

“I—” Loki was staring pointedly at the ground, ears pink. “I’ll wait, until you’ve made it in.”

She frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“Um—” he glanced up, then quickly snapped his gaze back to the grass. “It’s—it’s just—” he motioned towards her as her dress fluttered in the breeze.

What was he—oh. Oh. He was trying to avoid looking up her skirt. Teki flushed.

Well, at least he’s nice enough not to look.

She scrambled up the rest of the wall as quickly as she could and pulled on the window. It didn’t budge.

What?

She pulled again. What was wrong? Teki never latched this window. Could her mother have done it? Certainly Osvald and Brant wouldn’t have—Osvald never came in her room and Brant didn’t know how. She pulled once more, this time with even more force.

“What is it?” Loki yelled from the ground.

She sighed. “I think my mother latched the window.”

“Oh, is that all? I can handle that.” Teki looked down just in time to see him flick his wrist. In front of her, the latch fell open. Her eyes widened.

“Wow!”

Loki laughed. “Thor hates that I know that trick.”

She pushed open the window and pulled herself into her room. A few moments later, Loki followed. He went to dry off best he could in the bathroom while fixed her appearance in front of the mirror in her room. He had been right about one thing—the warm air worked in their favor. Teki’s hair was almost completely dry. She quickly brushed through it and twisted it back into its bun—it wasn’t quite as precise as her mother’s work, but hopefully she wouldn’t notice. She realized as she was pinning it down that she must have lost a few pins back in the lake. Hopefully her mother wouldn’t notice that either.

Her dress, however, was a disaster. Not only was it still soaked, but the hem was stained from sitting in the dirt for too long. She peeled it off, making sure to stuff it down the dirty clothes chute before anyone else had time to notice. She’d just have to put on another scarlet dress and, again, hope that no one noticed.

It was only then that Teki realized she had another problem. While she had no shortage of scarlet dresses, she had failed to consider the type of scarlet dresses. The one she had been wearing had a sealed back—she could simply pull it over her head to wear without worrying about buttons or laces. All her other scarlet gowns had lacing on the back that somebody had to tie off for her to wear.

Oh no.

The panic was coming back, but Teki forced herself to breath. What were her options? She could wear one of her other sealed back dresses—but they were less formal, and the wrong color. It would be abundantly clear to anyone who saw her that she had changed for some reason. No, no.

She could try to get the original dress out of the chute, clean it up best she could, and wear it. Teki checked the black abyss into which she had tossed the gown moments ago, praying that it had caught on the way down. Nope. She reached into the darkness as far as she could—no sign of the dress.

She could stay in the apartment—tell her parents that she hadn’t been feeling well and left the feast early. But that wasn’t a real option. Osvald would see through that instantly. She shivered.

That left only one alternative.

“Loki?”

“Yes?” he called from the sitting room.

“Could—could you come in and help me with something?”

The door cracked open and Loki peeked in. “What can I do?”

“I—” Her cheeks were on fire. The dress covered her up—everything but her back, that is—but still she felt so exposed. “Could you lace the back for me?” She turned around so he could see.

“Oh—I—” Loki faltered, taking a step back. “I don’t know how to—”

“Please, it’s—it’s not hard, it’s—it’s just like lacing boots.” Norns, kill me now. “Please,” she added.

For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to do it. But then, slowly, he made his way across the room, hesitantly taking the laces into his hands.

“Like lacing boots?” he asked.

Teki gulped. “Yes—the crisscross.”

At first, he fumbled with the eyeholes a bit, but he picked up the idea fairly quickly. It was only when he was halfway down her back that another problem became apparent.

“You’re—you’re not doing it tight enough,” she spluttered.

He wavered. “You want it tighter? I don’t want to hurt you—”

“If it’s not tight enough, the dress won’t stay up,” Teki interjected.

“But—”

“It’s all right. I’ll tell you if it’s too tight.” Please, just let this end.

Uncertainly, Loki pulled more at the lacings, stopping the moment Teki winced.

“Are you—”

“It’s fine—keep going.”

It was an eternity before he finally tied off the laces at the bottom. When she turned around, she found that his cheeks were as red as hers. Teki slipped into an awkward curtsey.

“Thank you, my prince,” she mumbled. She wasn’t sure why she had suddenly fallen back into formal titles when they were in possibly the least formal situation she could ever imagine, but here she was.

Loki cleared his throat. “Perhaps it’s time we—”

The downstairs door slammed open.

“Tekla!”

Teki felt all the color drain from her face.

She heard Osvald’s footsteps on the stairs. “Are you in here, you little bitch?”

Her breath was coming too fast, so fast her vision was going dark in the corners.

He’s going to find us. He’s going to find us both in here.

Loki was whispering her name, rubbing her shoulders and saying something else, but all Teki could hear was the pounding of impending doom as it opened her bedroom door. Loki clapped his hand over her mouth just as Osvald walked in.

She expected his eyes to narrow, his brow to deepen. She expected him to drag her by the neck down the hall and demand to know what the Hel she thought she was doing gallivanting about the palace the wrong prince. She expected him to throw her on the ground, or into the wall, or down the stairs, expected him to curse as he hit her, to tell her how she brought it upon herself, to demand that she clean up the mess her blood has made on the floor before her mother saw it and got upset.

But none of that happened.

Instead, her stepfather surveyed the room with a frown, looking straight at them as if they weren’t even there.

“Fucking Hel,” he muttered as he closed the door again.

Teki stood there shaking as his steps echoed back down the stairs, front door slamming as he left. Loki lifted his trembling hand off her mouth.

She stared at him, breathing heavily. “H-how—how did—”

“Illusion.” He smiled, but it looked more like a grimace of pain. “See? I told you no one would know the difference.”

Her head was spinning. “So—so when he walked in—”

“He just saw the empty room.” Loki dropped the act and turned to her, his face filled with concern. “Teki, please let me tell my mother about—”

“No, don’t—”

“Then you tell her, please.” He gripped her shoulder. “This isn’t—”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand—”

“You’re terrified of him!”

“It’s fine—”

“Nothing about what I just saw was fine!”

“Don’t tell anyone.” Teki gripped the fabric on his chest, pleading. “Believe me, it’ll just make things worse. Please don’t tell anyone.”

Loki stared at her, brow furrowed. “All right,” he finally said. “I suppose we should be getting back to the Great Hall.”

She nodded. “Yes, I suppose so.”

He offered her his arm awkwardly. Teki took it even more awkwardly.

She couldn’t blame anyone but herself. This had been a terrible idea.

[honestsycrets]

Little Crow [ Ivar x Niece!OC (Platonic), Ivar x POC!Reader ]

❛ pairing | ivar & sigurd’sdaughter!niece (father figure relationship), implied!ivar x POC!reader, thora x hvitserk x amma

❛ type | platonic, family oriented oneshot

❛ summary | after ivar murders sigurd, his guilt keeps him from keeping his niece. but-- he can’t help himself from trying to crawl back into her life.

❛  tags | verbal arguments, osteogenesis imperfecta issues, fighting, referenced death, referenced murder, orphan child, adoptive mother, adoptive relationships, family dynamics, mention of polygyny.

❛ sy’s notes | this fic implies Bjorn sailed away to Sweden after avenging Ragnar, Aslaug does not die. 

In everything, anger is a release of tension. That is as true for cooking instruments as life. Water boils with the anger of a flame and chucks its lid off to release itself all over the kettle or pot. Likewise, the moment the axe left his hand, Ivar felt the rush and the release of tension. It was gratifying. It was what he wanted. For it all to stop.

“Are you sure?”

He looks back, once, past the flickering flame to the little hands pushing and prodding her pale skin. She looks happy here, free of the realization of a few months ago, before the sail back to Kattegat, before Bjorn sailed away to Sweden, before the accident. There is security in a warm longhouse with nothing but beautiful, strong women. Here she could learn.

Ivar kisses her palm and doesn’t look back.

For her coming of age, he sends her a gift. It’s quiet. Until it isn’t.

“She’s renamed her Aslaug,” his mother came into the throne room one day, standing before him with soft eyes as he sat in his mother’s chair. Ivar bounced clicked his fingers along the arm of the chair.

“Ironic,” he noted, and his hand dropped from his lip. “She has your old name.”

“The crows come to see her.”

Odin is taking care of her. Ivar hmphs, a small noise, almost unmoved until his mother steps up to set her hand on his shoulder. It stings different. “Why don’t you go see her? She is very beautiful.”

He’s not sure if it’s his niece she’s talking about-- or the carer out in the fields. It’s better this way. Less of a risk for her to be involved with such a family. Ivar stares, plain and long, trying to isolate why his mother was speaking like this.

“Why are you pushing me?”

Her lips curl into a knowing smile. She heads down from the throne to the backrooms.“I’ve invited them to eat dinner.”

Fantastic.

Mother was right. She is beautiful. he can’t tell which of the women he’s speaking about.

The young girl, who is no more than twelve, with cool blue eyes plagued with the spiral of jörmungandr, or her mother who isn’t really her mother. Not in the flesh, anyway. Her skin is far too pigmented, her eyes too deep to belong to the sea serpent, but maybe the deepness and depth of the soil that nurtured the chunk of a pig on his plate.

“--I came after Ragnar’s victory in Paris,” he catches the tail end of the statement. His father’s name is old but familiar. He hasn’t been back from Europe so long.

“That was not so long ago.”

“It’s long if you’re a slave.” There was nothing he could say to that. “Thank you for that Ivar.”

What you mean to say, is for the coin that set you free, from Ivar’s pocket. He took a little more than he should have after his father came back. Perhaps it wasn’t with just this in mind-- but who knew when a young boy like him would come upon such money again? At the very least, he put it to good work.

“I can’t stand to see beautiful women as slaves.” He gestures, and you tease him further, that if you were ugly he would not?

No, he reminds you, women are his soft spot. He’s kissed more than one woman’s hand-- and they weren’t all young. “He’s a woman’s man,” Aslaug brought her knuckle to his high cheekbones. Little Aslaug stares off in annoyance between the bantering, complaints of how he had no wife-- and maybe, a tease at the prospect in the future.

“In its time,” he remarks to the two of you. Ivar sat idly chewing on it when his eyes caught with little Aslaug’s across the table. Her eyes flicked down, to his plate, then up again. “Still hungry?” he asks lowly, a soft draw with gentle eyes.

She reaches for it. It being his plate and drags it over to sit in front of her. Your idle chatter with Queen Aslaug is cut off by the abruptness of the motion when you set your eyes on Ivar’s. “Aslaug.”

“No, no.” Ivar waves, reaching for a chunk of fruit. “I am not so hungry today.”

“You know better than that.”

“And why?” Aslaug pulls a strip of meat off the meat. She looks at him past the wave of her long brown hair tumbling to her flat chest. “He sent me away. He should be so lucky to have me here with him.”

Aslaug leans over. Ivar-- if he could have given her a look sooner-- might have stopped what was about to come from his mouth. “He sent you away to save you. Mismanaged girls don’t often grow into women.”

“If you’re their mother, they don’t. I grew up just fine on my mother’s farm. No drownings, or almost drownings, or visions of hurricanes. No cursed mothers of the water.” Little Aslaug flicks her bone onto the plate, bobbing her head in a way that seems to be just like looking in the reflection of a golden plate, right back at him.

Aslaug reclines back in her chair.

There’s nothing you can say. In the absence of words, you lean over and press a kiss to her soft hair. Little Aslaug turns to your long braids, pushing the wooden beads away from her, because there’s something she wants to say-- and she’d say it. She was like her father, like her uncle. It’s something that he quickly realizes when she mutters something he can’t understand and leans over that long table, her crutch under her arm.

“I needed you and-- you sent me away. Like shit under your mangled legs.” When she hobbles out, leaning into her metal crutch, Ivar is left with a closed fist and a dozen questions. You spare him a look of pity on your way after her.

“I need help.”

Sigurd never needed help. Not from him. Not from really, anyone. It happened long ago that he stopped asking for help. So when the news came, he wasn’t altogether sure what he was hearing from his brother. Only that he knew what it was about.

When he set his little niece down, Ivar knew. She couldn’t even move.

“Set her down,” Ivar gestured toward the ground. Dusty, but clean for him to crawl upon. She’d broken her legs not once, or twice, but thrice. Once on the ground, he knew that the little girl was scared to move. So he showed her how, limp legged and tense armed, he dragged himself a hundred times around her.

And she giggled. And for the first time in a long time, Ivar and Sigurd laughed together.

He could have walked away. Theoretically, of course. Pretend he doesn’t have a niece. Or anyone. But he finds himself plagued with the knowledge of abandonment and reflecting on his own abandonment. And that’s how he ends up in the merchant’s square, looking for the particular women.

Ones that brought up other women’s children with long draping skirts, braids woven tighter than the fates written by the Norns, and baskets carrying goods upon their heads. Moorish, beautiful women.

“Sorry,” his brother Hvitserk slides by, jumping jovially beside him. The many different groups of Kattegat all traded in harmony. The ones of the east with the ones of the south, the ones native to home. Hvitserk bounces while walking backward. “Brother! Amma and Thora say they trade beads at the edge of the marketplace.”

“Why do you even have two wives,” Ivar grumbles, jutting his crutch into the soft ground, holding his hand over his muscular leg for balance. “Is one not tiring enough?”

“I have love to give.” Hvitserk rattles his laughter. “Why should I close myself off to another?”

“And one can’t be deserving enough?” If it were him-- he’d surely love one, and only one, because that was the sort of man he was. He doesn’t need more. He would have all that he needed and that would be enough.

“Your trouble is that you haven’t fucked enough,” Hvitserk says pointedly. “If you fucked that woman from the other day--”

“This isn’t about her.”

“You wouldn’t be so wound up all the time. Here you are attacking me, for instance.”

Ivar doesn’t respond. At one time, maybe, he thought that he could have it all and more. He could be happy with a wife with fifty children and that would be good for him. Now that it wasn’t… feasible, he supplies in his mind, this should be enough for him.

They kick up dirt as they arrive into the hearth of the marketplace. Honey, furs, slaves. Those were the good things there. His interest was less so in the simple things and more with the luxurious items at the very edge of the trade center. Expensive things like beads, jewelry, clothes. Things you traded on your rich red throw on the ground.

“Two Ragnarssons this time, I must have the blessing of Frigg this cycle.” You sat among young children, retelling a story he’s cut in on while weaving beads into a blonde-haired woman’s hair. “Something tells me you aren’t here for me.”

“You might be correct.” Ivar looks among the heads of young girls. Light-skinned, dark-skinned. Blonde hair, orange hair, black hair. None look like his little niece. “Where is Aslaug?”

“Searching a new name.”

“Alone?” he demands.

You pull a loose golden strand through your fingers. Then, looking up, you laugh at him. “You make for an overbearing father.”

Warmth floods into his cheeks. You whisper something into the ear of your daughter selling beads, and she drags them off to the side. With a pat of the blanket, Ivar slides beside you. “I’ll let you know something, Ivar, for when you have a child of your own. There are some times you press them…”

“Or dress them up,” your customer looks over. The orange beading seems to pronounce her slight freckles dotting over her cheeks and around her eyes, sunspots that indicated she worked outside the home on occasion.

“Or know when to leave them alone.”

Hvitserk shifts his weight onto one leg and shrugs. “Women are complicated,” he gestures. “Girls too.”

“You aren’t someone she wants to see.”

“I’ve gathered,” Ivar says, bringing his hand to his temple, rubbing the stress free. “I should never have sent her away.”

“You shouldn’t have.” He bows his head and looks over the soft beads. He finds himself comparing which would look the best, and you seem to know, running your fingers over the rich green that reflects like bits of grass. “But you can make it right. I would take… six of these. Fashion her a necklace. Go see her in the valley where the crows gather.”

“I don’t take it you’re giving them to me?”

“Not men,” you quip playfully, patting him square in the middle of his chest.

“No deals for men!” the young girls tease all around. He supposes, in a place made up of beautiful women, that he has no choice but to be cheated out of his coin. Hvitserk crouches at eye level, picking out two for his wives. “I’ll cash in that favour now.”

Make that eight.

What you failed to tell him was just how far this so-called valley was. His legs began to ache sorely with the calibers weighing down every step. His legs hurt, his hand hurts from supporting his wealth of muscle, and so does his head with the memory of what little Aslaug had said. In the dusty grey sky, crows fluttered overhead. Their black bodies obscure what little light peers through fat bulging clouds.

It was a day like this, not too long ago -- at least in his memory, that the accident happened. Not his loss of control or the flare-up of anger that transferred from father to uncle, to niece. But a grey day of crawling through the valley with legs that did not work and a storm that was too sudden. The sodden ground led to a sick two-year-old-- and a sicker, plump wife. Not his wife, that was.

“If you can’t keep her safe, don’t keep her at all.” It was those words, mixed among a heated exchange, that stuck with him. He sat dripping water on the new planks of Sigurd’s bedroom-- looking toward where Sigurd disappeared with his giggling girl. Sigurd meant that.

“You’re thinking too much.” Hvitserk is kind of like a bird. The kind of bird that you want to knock out of a tree when he’s following you, chirping obvious things, even when he wasn’t asked. Not that my opinion matters but… Or I think you’re an idiot… the usual.

“Shut up, Hvitserk.”

They find her in a clear valley where the bones and the spears of decades past are still lodged into Midgard. Hvitserk glances between the remnants of a long old battle, scavenger hunting for goodies, while Ivar ascends the hill. She’s more your daughter than his, Hvitserk says, because he’s so much help.

There she was at the top of the hill. Her arms were folded, a scowl slapped across her face, deepening with his every drag to an eventual stop beside her. He collapses at last beside her and sets his crutch across his tired legs.

“Mother sent you to find me.” She states. There’s a crow between her thin legs. That makes sense. She pets its head.

“Hm?” Ivar reclines back on his forearms. “Not this time. Something about space.”

“Like I said. Mother sent you to find me.”

So maybe you did. Ivar came to that helpful realization with a necklace wrapped around his wrist and a much lighter pocket. You’re no con woman, but you aren’t a stupid woman either. He reminds himself that a woman-- a once was slave -- was a crafty woman when looks alone just wouldn’t roll the stone.

“Do you hate it?”

“Maybe.” She answers quickly. “I don’t know why she wants me to see you. You--”

“--sent you away. I know. I thought I did it for you. Maybe I--” he pauses then, searching, thinking. “Did it for me.”

“I never would have guessed.”

Ivar unwinds the necklace from his wrist, staring at the beads as if they were bones he could shake-up for the right answer, like a seer. Instead, he finds himself asking why when she interrupts. “It’s one thing to kill my father.”

He glances up.

“I think… all of Kattegat knew one of you would kill another. So I hear from my mother. Baby, and all.” She says pointing to all of herself. “It’s one thing to do that. Another thing to abandon me.”

“Would you have preferred to have no mother?”

“No,” she clicks her tongue, turning her head away. “I love my mother. All of us do. She is much better than my grandmother. But you left.”

It’s a statement he doesn’t imagine he’ll stop hearing soon. Ivar rubs his temples and turns on his side just as she tugs her legs around, heavy in the calibers he had sent her for her coming of age, the thing that incited everything. He leans over, fisting the necklace, and sets it in her hands.

“Forgive me then, Aslaug.”

“Kraka.” She takes the necklace, fitting it around the crow’s head, who strangely doesn’t move. He must be seeing things now because she fits it under her arm like a ball and stands to her feet. “I want to be called Kraka. Now hurry up. With your legs, we won’t be home before the rain falls.”  

Its a different name, one that she’ll probably change again and again. Or maybe none at all. Maybe, he thinks, this is what being a parent to a young girl is. Finding himself in the same way she found herself. He doesn’t feel so angry now.

“I hate to remind you, but yours are no different, Kraka.”

And somewhere, in the field, Hvitserk chirps-- I found a coin!

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071​ @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer​ @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt​ @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever

[imagine-loki]

The Slutty Webs One Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 8

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Pepper returned from the lobby to an edgy Tony. "Was Hannah down there? What took you so long to answer your phone?"

"No and I was talking to someone."

"You stalled to make new friends? I worried you were dragging said witch up here in a headlock."

"Wrong. Is Loki still consoling Brianna?"

"Yes."

Pepper dropped a mini bomb and Tony disconcertedly sighed. "He isn't going to like this." The couple appeared at the guest room door. "Hey, Little Warrior. Feeling any better?"

She nodded.

"Badass and I wondered if you'd stick around. Maybe Daddikins can conjure Mario Kart? I miss you kicking my tushy."

Virginia's nervous smile had Loki encouraging it and once Tony had Brianna distracted, they slipped out of sight. She conveyed returning to the Tea shop, claimed Hannah resembled an old friend and asked which direction she'd gone in. The cashier said she did a double take at something in the lobby, appeared as though seeing a ghost and dashed towards the hotel exit without her purchases.

Loki's face became a storm of tumultuous emotions and she startled when a snap of his fingers conjured a book.

"Should I have said nothing?"

He cynically chuckled, scanning the title pages. "Ever thought your God in heaven found amusement in bombarding your life with fuckery, like the Norn's do mine? The arm of his celestial robe hanging high while he mockingly inspires you with a goblet of mead? 'Rise up, Homes. I'm off for a shag with Mary.'"

"All Midgardians have."

"Have all dragged their only friends into Alice's fucking wonderland where the big bad wolf keeps hounding at the door? Excuse me, I'm intertwining fairy tales."

"Probably half. Are you okay?"

"Right as rain, girlfriend. Right, found it. I haven't used this spell on a child and need the right measurement of ingredients."

She nervously stumbled over a pair of small shoes. "A 'spell???'"

"To make Brianna sleep. Shhh. I must concentrate."

She watched, dazzled, as tiny bottles appeared mid air and part of their contents emptied into his cupped palm. Moving it in a circular motion, they combined like fluid sand, glowed a soft white, then faded into transparent flakes as the book and bottles vanished.

"Calmly return to the main room with me?"

They did just as Tony blundered a turn at Mario. "I'ma gonna givva you such a smacka, you cartoon pisano."

When Brianna laughed, Loki waved his hand before her face from behind. "Forgive me, Min Lille."

"D..dad…"

Tony caught her. "What's up with the magically induced coma?"

"She's better off." Said Loki, sharper than intended.

Stark situated Little Warrior while he paced, grinding a fist into his palm. There hadn't been time to process any definitive plans to apprehend Brianna's captors and discovering the fourth incited a rage only her reciprocated love had contained. Now, his nerves were stretched to their limits, forcing him to convey more than he wanted, risk finally reaching out for help and configure one. Fast.

"Scotch, Snowflake?"

He sighed heavily and stopped. "I must keep a clear head and so should you. The secrecy and lies, the hiding, everything I've done has been to protect Brianna and yourselves since the instant she graced my life. If I'm to continue, we need to trust each other completely. No matter how disturbing my information, you will make no inquiries, tell no one and from here forth, do 'exactly' as I say. Should you veer off course, we leave for real and you'll be fighting a dangerous battle alone. You may regardless if I can't contain Thor's rage over this."

"A battle with who?"

"This will hit home, Tony. Give me your word."

"It's yours, Pepper's too, right?" She nodded. "For insurance, she can text you a pic of me in a chastity belt. Hell, send it to Jimmy Kimmel. Are we good?"

"I'd rather you signed a wager to become a goat. How much longer is your suite booked for?"

"Another ten days."

"Virginia, pack for a week please? I need your help with Brianna at a safe house. Tony, contact your pilot. You're going home."

"Alex is in Aruba celebrating his girlfriend's breast implants. 'Why' Loki?"

"Fuck." He muttered. "Because I'm certain Fury's involved in Brianna's existence and you 'don't' want him up your shit when you aren't there. He was fucking Hannah and six and half years ago, introduced her and Jillian to Viriginia at his fiftieth birthday bash."

Tony slid both hands down his face. "I..shit..whoa. How do you know that and who's Jillian?"

Pepper frantically retraced her memory. "Jillian...was she the petite brunette with doe like eyes?"

"Congratulations." Loki replied. "You've also met Brianna's Mother. It's all in her diary."

"WHAT?!?" Said the couple, shocked.

"Save your questions! If Brianna's the reason Hannah bailed, by now the evil foursome knows she's escaped and you're aware she exists. Were I Fury, I'd be gathering my accomplices for interrogation, initiating a low key search for the four of us and putting eyes on the Tower 'and' Thor, where he'll find Astrid. Please, 'help me.'"

"Okay, okay. Can you teleport me back?" Asked Stark.

"No. Fury knows I have that ability. If S.H.I.E.L.D's watching and never see you enter…"

"What the fuck? You think they're involved too?"

"Oh my god." Said Pepper.

Loki tuned them out and conjured a bag of burner phones. "Book a seat on the next flight out in any class. Delete our past conversations and cease using your phones to contact me. If Brianna awakens, have her call me on one of these. I'll be back before dawn."

"You're leaving???"

"Yes. To relocate Astrid and warn Thor. Wish me luck he doesn't break New Mexico."

Loki vanished into a portal leaving the couple aghast.

"Well Butch, we're up to our eyeballs in another shit storm. I should've ignored the flu and gone with you that night."

She cracked a tiny smile. "Before or after you fell asleep next to the toilet?"

Tony nodded, observing Brianna in her slumber. "And dreamt Buzz Lightyear brought me our duvet."

"High fevers induce hallucinations. That was me in a white pants suit."

"You sure sounded like 'Tim The Toolman Taylor.'

He was doing it again. Comedically rambling off topic to cushion the blow of a truth that rubbed him wrong from every angle.

"Tony?" Said Pepper.

"Hm?"

"Promise no veering? I haven't trusted Nick since Steve found those weapons on the Helicarrier."

"None of us Avengers do either. I won't, he's too dangerous. With the ability to fuck us over worse than any accusations of harboring a missing child could. Virginia..this is bad. What more was in that diary?"

"It is, but we have to stay focused. A sleep deprived, frazzled Loki discovering we aren't ready, won't want to talk. I'll get our suitcases."

Tony followed. "Did you bring a warm coat? I'll bet he conjured that safehouse in the Siberian Tundra." ***** Loki first returned to their room to collect his and Brianna's things. Time was crucial, but before seeking Astrid, he needed to tune into her ring. Left on, it steadily recorded her and using a hologram, he rewound to the day he departed Asgard and quickly scanned through the mundane.

He watched her pained reaction to his note, heard hers and Frigga's spiteful words, witnessed their treatment of Thor, heard himself being defended, their following remorse and the lies conjured betwixt Mother and son. Although impressed by Frigga duplicating Astrid's ring, he wasn't in the mood for another presumed 'lecture on morality' and fast forwarded to them parting ways in Asgard.

Night after night, he saw Astrid entering Ingrid's bed chamber and once heard his Mother in law scolding a hidden Roddy from her doorway. "Doth's thou newest mistress prefer perfuming as well? Your stench giveth you away."

He'd have laughed if not for Astrid's tears, but when forwarding to the present, she wasn't sleeping at Thor's. His means of travel would remain portals and high on adrenaline, he arrived to gather her belongings and cringed at the sounds of lovemaking.

"That's it princess. Take your Kings tallywacker like a good girl."

'Norns.' Loki conjured more burner phones, blared the living room's television and Thor came running, cock at full mast. "Brilliant way to greet an intruder, dingus."

"Brother!" Thor exuberantly bellowed on approach.

Loki conjured a dagger. "Hug me naked and tallywacker gets beheaded. Where's Astrid?"

"At the Rosewood."

Loki frowned. "You let my wife, who hops realms on a fucking whim, stay at a hotel???"

Jane came rushing down the stairs in a Betty Boop robe and he arched a brow. "Hi, Loki. It's only for two nights and she offered to give us time alone."

Thor's smile faded. "I didn't hear anything in the guest bedroom. Did you bug our house?"

"Yes, brother. 'I', snagged a side job installing covert surveillance on Midgards superheroes. Spark another spliff and do cover your cock?"

Jane did with a decorative plate from the dining table. "Astrid's room number is 718."

"She won't be returning. Do not leave, answer the door, your calls, or open the blinds. I 'will be' returning, but briefly."

In a flash, he was gone and Jane looked up at Thor. "I can't call in this soon, my vacation just ended."

"Loki wasn't asking, Jane. Something's awry." ***** Astrid had risen early and after seeking ice, dropped the bucket upon discovering Loki in her room. Accustomed to wearing Midgardian attire, her blue jean leggings contoured her shape, highlighted by a white tank beneath a second of mesh knit. Her blond waves cascaded down her breasts and she looked so virginal without makeup, his loins ached.

"Hello, my lovely."

Unsure what Thor had conveyed, she hesitated approaching. "Hi. I would offer you a drink but..." She knelt to gather the cubes and hide a falling tear. "I hav..haven't any liquor."

Loki lovingly gathered her into his arms. "Astrid."

"Forgive me, Min kjærlighet." She sobbed. "I made you run when needing me most."

He kissed her lips and cheeks. "I ran for a multitude of reasons, but have left Brianna sleeping to come for you."

"You knew I was on Midgard?"

"Not until recently and you mustn't be angry with Thor for not conveying so. He stayed silent at my request, even to Jane and was oblivious to our location. You mean the world to me as does Brianna now too, but something's gone wrong and I fear you're both in danger. It would take too long to explain and there's so much I must before you meet."

"Then let's return to Asgard. Wouldn't we be safe there?"

"We can't yet."

She slowly slid from his embrace, confused. "Brianna's in danger, yet isn't with you or Thor. She's with Tony and Pepper isn't she?"

"Yes, my lovely, but you can't be angry with them either. They've been wonderful to her."

"I'm not, I'm sad again. Everyone knew about her before me. What does that say about 'us', Loki? Are we okay?"

He embraced her again. "Yes. Darling, Tony, Pepper and Thor knew of her before I did too and you knew before Jane."

"Really? Wait, Thor lied to myself and your Mother?"

"Astrid, please. He had to, they too might be in danger and Brianna will panic if I'm not there when she awakens. Come with me to a temporary location until everybody's situated?" Loki kissed her hands. "It means being shielded from Heimdall for a while. If not, Thor can..."

She hastily kissed him. "I'm not returning to Asgard without you."

Loki wanted to bed her until she wailed his name so loud, her voice cracked every window in the hotel. "Prepare thyself, my lovely. You're going underground."

While she checked out, Loki ventured to Alberta and created her a lesser version of their bedchambers in Asgard.

Astrid caressed the beds plush duvet of greens and gold. "You replicated everything."

He conjured her luggage. "I wanted you to feel at home."

She smiled. "I'll be okay, Loki. Go."

With a newfound determination, Loki returned to Thor. "I thank the Valhallas you've dressed."

"You've seen me naked before, brother."

Loki addressed Jane. "He was playing nude hide and seek in the backwoods with some maidens, late for another archery lesson. Our father sent me searching. Without appearing rude, may we please have a moment alone?"

She frowned at Thor. "I'll be in the garage inflating my bicycle tires."

Thor waited for the door to close. "You could've said we were teens. How have we been compromised?"

"Clever, brother."

"Are Brianna and Astrid safe?"

Loki nodded.

"Flying human and Virginia?"

"Not if Jane talks."

A loud growl from Thor soon had her running back inside. "Holy shit on a pogo stick!"

He was standing in the living room holding their heavy glass coffee table above his head with Loki in his face. "Throw that and it vanishes before landing."

"Then I'll break something else!"

"This is why I kept information from you! Think rationally, Thor. Your neighbors will post this all over social media. How will that benefit any of us?"

He gently placed it down. "Brother, he..a child?"

"I know, but please let me handle it my way?"

"She's your daughter. I respect that. What do you need from us?" Loki eyed Jane and Thor sighed. "Yes, you can trust her."

When he was done talking, she hurled on the carpet while Thor pondered murdering Fury.

Loki used magic to clean it up. "You have my instructions. No interfering."

"We understand, brother. Go." ***** After leaving the Savoy, Hannah had rushed to the nearest pharmacy and returned to her hotel, spitting sparks. "That lying bitch! Her little brat does have powers!" She checked out, checked into another across town and called her boyfriend. He answered from a plane on it's way to England.

"Hello, pretty lady. Did you enjoy your heart throbs play? Wish I could've come."

Hannah eyed the stolen silk tie Tom had used to bound her wrists the night before and deviously grinned. 'I don't. Hiddleston and I hooked up.' "Tom was amazing." 'With a dick that makes yours look microscopic.' "How was Mrs. Finkelsteins second facelift?"

"Useless, but she's rich. I bought you some new lingerie."

"Did you keep the receipt? I'm breaking up with you."

"Hannah, why? What will I tell my parents?"

"Life doesn't always work out as planned? Don't miss your connecting flight to Sweden. Bye."

She hung up, turned her ringer off and opened a box of black hair dye. "Now that I'm screwed, so are you 'Pepper Potts' and your billionaire boyfriend."

[lettersofwrittencollective]

The Pull (86/?)

Summary: The Ragnulf’s are one of the oldest lines of werewolves known. A gift from ancient times was gifted to them. Though not all of the line will experience it. There are some who will experience a Pull. This Pull leads them to their true mate, a soulmate. The problem is, just because the wolf finds their true mate does not mean that they are the same for that person.

Author: @lettersofwrittencollective​

Pairing: Stiles x Hale!Cousin OC (Reader)

Word count: 2538

Warnings: angst,  some fluff, Norse storyline development, threatening 

<<Prev || The Pull Masterlist || Next>>

The old god watched his daughter curled into her mate.

Taking deep breaths he tried to breathe through his anger. 

The Norns would not be swayed… this he knew. But hadn’t the fox been enough? 

They’d faced the fox and she’d brought back her mate… 

She had faced losing herself in the process.

He had almost been destroyed.

Natasha Rafnulf and Stiles Stilinski would be a force to be reckoned with when they fully came into themselves and their powers… if they stay with Scott McCall they’ll be damn near impossible to stop… 

But the Ragnulfs tend to return to their pack… the protection of their family always stronger than any other pack as they knew the bonds and they were aware of the implications. 

Stiles Stilinski, however, was intensely loyal… to Scott McCall. The question wasn’t if Stiles would accept Natasha, the way he held her currently 

Sighing, Odin recalled Hugin and Munin to his side. 

As his ravens returned, he thought back to what he had learned a moon cycle ago. 

Munin had accidentally stumbled across the remains of a group of assassins. They had not been trained very well from Munin cold tell. 

He’d come upon the scene as a woman taunted a man. She’d not been on her own. 

What had caught Munin’s attention was the creature with the woman. The one that seemed to be doing her bidding.

It looked like a man with an animal skull on his head. 

Munin hadn’t seen one of those in centuries… The magic to create them having become almost non-existent.. but there was something off about this one. 

Berserkers were not meant to be puppets. Like their counterparts,  Ulfhednar and Svinfylking’s they were meant to be the most ruthless men and women in battle.  They were originally meant to be the bodyguards of noble families but had become elite warriors in their own right as time had passed 

Berserkers entered their trances when they would need to go to war and while a man in a true rite may not be able to tell the difference between friend or foe, they rarely did someone else’s bidding. 

This one was following the huntress, Kate Argent.

Munin had stayed to watch as the woman asked about who the “Benefactor” was. Whatever this name was, it had been enough to cause her to go after his men. From what Munin heard, he figured that this “Benefactor” was paying for assassins.

Before Munin could figure out who the assassins were supposed to go after, he’d been distracted by the sound of the huntress groaning in pain. Munin had turned his attention to focus on the girl solely when he’d heard the clatter of a gun against the asphalt. 

Munin had watched as the blonde in front of him had doubled over in pain before her skin had transformed and he’d watched as a nagual formed in front of him, this one a were-jaguar. One of Xolotl’s then… 

Curious as to why Munin had followed the woman as she’d gotten the Berserkers to listen to her. It hadn’t taken them very long to disappear and the woman had then made her way north.

It was when Munin had told him the story of what he had seen, that Odin had thought to ignore the Norns, to step in and have the consequences be damned but the problem was the consequences wouldn’t be his to face. They’d be hers. 

So, he’d done the one thing he could do- he opened up the link her mate had with instincts just a little wider. 

He’d managed it just in time… 

Natasha had been foolish in taking off on her own but Stiles had made it in time and though it took his mind a little longer to catch up to his instincts, his instincts had immediately called for the blood of the one that would harm what was his. 

You hadn’t let go of Stiles since you’d launched yourself into his arms. 

You’d had to remind yourself that he was okay… that he was here and that the stupid bitch Violet wasn’t going to be able to get to him. 

Stiles had let you hold onto him. Had wrapped his fingers in yours and you’d leaned your head on his shoulder. Taking in deep breaths, you let yourself be grounded to the moment in front of you, to the man in front of you when the sound of a gasping, wheezing breath pulls your attention. 

Looking around, you’re struck by the memory of earlier, Violet had been taunting Brett… Wolfsbane. 

Running over to the boy, you’re met with the sight of him literally foaming at the mouth as he wheezes. 

“I need a lighter!” you call out but, unsurprisingly, no one has one.  

Trying to think of other ways you can get rid of wolfsbane poisoning, you realize that each one has its own specific set of rules. 

Thankfully Stiles has already pulled out his phone. As he dials out, Brett lets out a gasping breath before he starts choking and the foam at his mouth turns yellow. 

Calling out for Stiles, he’s at your side a moment later as he hangs up the phone and tells Scott to help him out. The three of you quickly make your way towards Stiles’ jeep and you get Brett situated in the backseat.

You’re just about to jump in the passenger seat when a hand grips your wrist. Turning, you see Scott giving you an apologetic look, “I told them you were the one attacked.”

“What?! Why?” you demand, knowing this means that you’re going to have to separate and not liking the idea at all. 

Scott grimaces but points out that you had been attacked and that he’d told the Sheriff as much before they had figured out Brett.  

You want to tell him to figure out something else, tell the Sheriff that he’d been attacked or something… You’re about to tell him as much when Stiles speaks up, sounding less than pleased, “Tasha… you need to give your statement.”

You want to argue but Brett’s pained grunt distracts you. 

Sighing, you step back from the car and make your way towards the school. As you walk oer, you can hear Scott promising to Stiles that he’ll keep you safe. 

Just as you make it inside the doors, Liam calls your name and a moment later he’s got you wrapped up in a hug, “Thank God you’re okay…”

He ushers you towards Coaches offices, through the locker room where you Violet’s been tied up, and as you do, you can hear the sound of sirens approaching the school. 

It isn’t long before the school is bustling with the sounds of people. Officers, students, parents… they’re all there and everyone is trying to demand answers. 

Parrish comes in and takes your statement, it’s just a rehashing of what you remembered. Though, you told him you’d come back to the locker rooms because you needed some girl stuff from your bag that you’d forgotten to take with you earlier and that you had no idea how you had gotten the necklace off of you.  Which was partially true. 

“Adrenaline rush?” he’d supplied for you and you’d merely shrugged your shoulders. It made more sense than whatever you could tell him at least.

Nodding his head Parrish took his notes and made his way out towards the locker room, no doubt to get Violet.

“Guys, back off. You can get your gear tomorrow. If anybody sees Garrett, you notify the police immediately,”  you hear Coach informing the rest of the team before grumbling, “Then tell him he's off the damn team.”

You’re not 100% sure how Coach knows Garretts involved but you can’t help but chuckle softly, somehow you doubt Garret’s going to care about getting kicked off the team. 

Making your way towards the girl’s locker room. You figure now’s a good a time as any to try and change— only to discover that they’ve locked down both locker rooms. 

You’re making your way through the people when you catch sight of Kira who’s sprinting down the halls and out of the school. Curious as to what that’s about, you’re about to go after her when you hear the pup calling your name. 

He catches up to you and immediately puts a jacket in your hand, looking down you see the large white numbers, an inversion of your own number 42 and can’t help but raise an eyebrow at the pup in front of you. 

Liam offers no remorse, he simply shrugs his shoulders and advises, “He texted me, said to make sure you had a jacket since you’re apparently always freezing and then he told me where it was.”

Smiling to yourself, you shrug on the hoodie. As you’re putting it on, you hear the Suit’s voice. You had known that Scott’s dad was around but you hadn’t seen him at the game - though to be fair you hadn’t been looking for him. He’s asked Parrish to hold up and is walking over while Scott makes his way up to you and Liam. 

Scott questions the absence of Kira.

“Not sure,” you tell him, “I saw her running through the halls earlier though.”

“She took off,” Liam elaborates. When you and Scott both turn to look at the pup he informs you that, “As soon as you guys took off, she called Lydia about that list and well-“ 

“Her moms on it…” Scott picked up, putting the pieces together.

“Everyone’s on it.”

“Wait a second,” you cut him off before dropping your voice and asking, “Are you on the list?”

“Not yet,” he mutters, “but there’s still another third, right?”

Before you can respond, Scott’s dad’s voice catches your attention, mostly be aide it’s accompanied by the scent of anger bursting as he says, “... that’s right. You don’t have any parents. That’s why they call you The Orphans.” 

You can hear the rattling of Chains and can only assume that Suit got the reaction he was looking for.

A moment later he’s telling someone, “We need to find the boyfriend, Garrett.” 

“Coach —I’m gonna need both their locker numbers,” you hear Sheriff point out before he comes into the hallway, “And someone find me a set of bolt cutters.”

Pulling into the parking lot at Deaton’s, Stiles finds both Deaton and Derek waiting for him. 

“Scott called,” he offered when Stiles raised an eyebrow, “where’s Little Wolf?” 

“Stayed behind,” Stiles growls out, not particularly excited at the prospect,

Working together, Derek helps him get the apparent werewolf out of Roscoe and into the clinic where Deaton’s grabbing some stuff. 

With Derek’s help, he manages to get the boy laid out on the metal table. As they’re getting him situated, Brett starts to seize again, this time thrashing about and choking on foam at his mouth. 

“What the hell is happening to this kid?!” Stiles asks as he tries to hold the boy down on the table. 

“He’s been poisoned by a rare wolfsbane,” Deaton answers as he comes to the boy’s other side. “I need to make an incision and you need to hold him as still as possible,” he says as he the boy thrashes forward. 

Stiles can feel his irritation at the older man but decides against it, pushing down on the boy again. Finding that they’re having a hard time holding the boy down, he snaps at the other werewolf, “Hey Derek, how about a little werewolf strength?” 

“Yeah, I'm not the only one with werewolf strength,” Derek snips out. 

“If you can’t hold him still, the incision might kill him,” Deaton points out and in his frustration, Stiles tugs the boy towards him.

A terrible idea really, because Brett seems to slide over to him quite easily. 

Stiles tries to push him back but Bretts covered in sweat and the yellow foam and as he thrashes about he can feel the boy slipping. 

Calling out to Derek, he tells the man that Bretts slipping and he doesn’t think he can hold Brett down. 

A moment later, Brett is taking a deep gasping breath as his eyes open.  Stiles looks over to see the boys terrified eyes just as the smell of something sour hits his nose.  

Brett growls menacingly and Stiles can feel himself getting thrown back into the cupboards. Grunting in pain, he looks up to see that Brett had managed to launch himself up and off the table he was just on. 

Growling, he starts to stalk towards Stiles when he seems to think better of it and turns to take off. He’s cut off, however, when a fist collides with his face and Stiles turns to see a blue-eyed Peter pulling his hand back, “I guess I still have a little werewolf strength myself.”

“Yeah,” Derek scoffs before looking from Brett back to Peter, “Maybe more than a little.” 

Stiles turns back to Brett who’s currently unconscious on the floor and he crouches down beside the boy’s body. He’s no longer choking on the rare wolfsbane but he doesn’t seem to be breathing either. 

“Hey Doc,” Stiles calls over his shoulder as he checks Brett’s pulse to make sure the boy’s not dead at least,  “I don’t think he’s breathing.”

From his peripheral, Stiles watches as Deaton drops down next to Brett, scalpel in hand. He takes one look at the boy before he’s taking the scalpel and dragging it down Brett’s chest, slicing open along his sternum, releasing a puff of putrid-smelling yellow smoke. 

Brett gives a gasping breath before his breathing seems to even out. Breathing out through his nose, Stiles tries to clear the putrid stench from his nostrils he asks Deaton, “Is he okay?”

“I think he’ll be fine. But he’ll probably be out for a while,” Deatom answers with a nod of his head as he moves to check the boy. 

Brett seems to be breathing easier overall but his lips are moving and Stiles can hear the boy murmuring softly. 

“Guys, can you hear that?” he asks the others, “I think he’s saying something.”

 Looking up he sees Deaton giving him a confused look and Derek’s face contorted like he’s trying to focus. 

Deaton’s already leaning over Brett so Stiles follows suit and as can make out the words the other boy is whispering, “The sun… the moon… the truth…the sun… the moon… the truth… “ 

He knows the words from somewhere… he knows he does… he just can’t remember where. Looking over to Deaton, he watches the older man lean back as understanding dawns on him and he says, “Three things cannot long be hidden — the sun, the moon, the truth.”

“It’s a Buddhist proverb,” Stiles realizes before his face furrows, “Why is he saying a Buddhist proverb?”

Deaton’s face doesn’t seem to indicate that he has any idea why so Stiles turns to Derek who’s staring at Peter. 

“Satomi,” Peter practically growls out. The two werewolves having a silent conversation with each other and Stiles figures that either Derek or Peter will be hunting down Satomi real soon. 

After a moment, Peter turns towards Stiles and asks, “Where is Little Wolf?”

-

<<Prev || The Pull Masterlist || Next>>

-

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!! Let me know what you thought! Comments, reblogs, asks… all of these things let me know how you’re feeling about the story and give me life!

Everything taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​ @nicole-lynne​​ @mummybear​​ @emichelle​​ @genius2050​​ @suhoey​ @fullangelimagines​ @xceafh​

Series taglist:  @treestarrrrrrrr​ @redsalv20​ @truthdaze​ @cutiepiemimi13​  @unoriginallysara​  @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw​  @linktomyheartpiece​  @sasha-obrienn​  @piccasoe​​ ​@msrawog​ @eternallyvenus​ @michellebarista​

@lostinwonderland314​​ @katemusic​ @kiwihoee​  @thesailbells​ @1967-chevy-impala-called-roscoe​

Dylan Taglist @blvckcanry​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @theholydestiny​​ @delacxurs​​ @yaya2503 @thegirlwhoimagined​​

Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is the property of lettersofwrittencollective. Associated characters belong to MTV and are being borrowed for this work, all OC’s are the property of lettersofwrittencollective. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

Posted 13 March 2020

[gingerwritess]

OKEY BUT whats up with eliott and morgannnn

oooh i love these two so goddamn much

good lord

one pure blue prince and one snarky potts-stark we must prOTECC

for anyone just tuning in, Elliot is you and Loki’s son, a pure lil bean, and this is Morgan Stark who he’s grown up with and stuff is happening and yeah check my masterlist for more background :)

also i recently realised that people who use screen reading have to sit through paragraph breaks of asterisks and that must be SO ANNOYING so i will no longer use that, i’ll just use a few hyphens to hopefully get the break over with quick and easy!

――――

“What’re you gonna do, Stark? Gonna call daddy to come save you?”

Holding her snow gloves just out of her reach, Mike Burts leers down at Morgan.

Why is it that the bullies are always so big??

“Maybe I will,” Morgan spits back at him, giving one last jump to try and grab her gloves. “He’d kick your ass and make you thank him for it, dickhead, give me my gloves back!”

“Don’t think so,” he sneers, tossing the gloves to one of his stubby little cohorts behind him. “Aw, well, if daddy won’t come help, you can always call your little blue freak!”

Morgan casts a quick glance around—good. Elliot’s nowhere to be seen, at least for now.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” she warns, a hand slyly slipping into her pocket.

“Like what? Like he’s a freaky, frozen mutant?”

“Seriously, Burts. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” he says sarcastically. “Don’t want to piss off the little popsicle’s girlfriend, do we.”

A thin layer of metal encases her hand. “Last chance.”

“I’m not scared of your little monster pet,” Burts hisses in her face. “What’s he gonna do, call Jack Frost on me? Oh no, I better keep a heater close by—”

In one quick, barely noticeable movement, Morgan aims her hand towards the ground at his feet, firing a blast of something roaring up to his face.

Harmless, she and her parents are aware, but Burts and his goons don’t need to know that.

He squeaks in fright. “What the—”

“Get the hell out of here,” Morgan orders. Her hand, wrapped in red and gold metal, is smoking. “Leave me alone, and if I hear you say one more thing about Elliot, I swear to god I’ll break your toes one by one and feed them to you—”

“Morgan!”

“Run,” she hisses, a smug grin on her face as he pales. “Run away and don’t look back.”

“What’s going on?” Elliot runs to her side, slightly out of breath. “Is—is he bothering you?”

Morgan gives him a quick smile—that’s sweet of him—but she doesn’t miss the slight tremor in his voice.

“Nah, I got them taken care of.” She jabs a thumb over her shoulder at the guys huddled a safe distance from her now. “They’re all bark, no bite.”

“That’s good,” Elliot says, thanking the norns above and whoever else is listening that he didn’t have to get pummelled by anyone today. “Are you, erm, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Nothing hurt but my pride.” She flashes him another smile.

“You’re lookin’ pretty smug, though.”

“Okay…so maybe my pride isn’t very hurt…”

Elliot laughs, not in the slightest bit surprised. “Mmhm, that’s what I thought. That’s good, though, I’m sure they deserved it.”

Blowing an unruly curl of dark hair off his forehead, he leans over and takes her books out of her arms to carry them for her, a soft smile turning at his lips.

Morgan nods, warmth spreading through her chest like a wildfire.

Your little blue freak.

“They deserve worse, but yeah.”

“No gloves?” Elliot asks as they walk towards the doorway, backpacks slung over shoulders and jackets zipped tight.

“No,” she sighs, wrapping her chunky scarf snug around her neck. “Burts took them. Don’t bother,” she adds when Elliot’s eyes narrow, “let them have them. They’re…big, Elliot. Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t want them to get away with that,” he replies, glancing at the group of laughing boys behind her. “At least tell your parents. They can do something about them, right?”

“Sure.” She smiles, tugging her beanie over her ears. “What about you? No scarf, no hat? Your ears are gonna freeze off.”

“Today’s a warm day,” Elliot answers with a small smile.

Morgan glances out the window—the snow has to be past their knees by now, icicles hanging from every rooftop, plus a wind chill to freeze the skin right off your limbs?

A warm day. Right.

“Whatever you say, frosty. Dad said he’s already heating up the milk for our hot chocolate, let’s hit the road.”

Elliot likes the snow. This ice, this coldness. He feels at home, unthreatened—and he gets to walk Morgan home.

Purely for safety purposes, Tony had made perfectly clear, only to ensure that his baby doesn’t get caught up in a snow storm or slip and break herself on some ice.

“I’m fine,” she’d laughed at the proposition, but only once.

There wasn’t much opposition to the little arrangement from either party.

“Shit.”

Easily floating over the icy sidewalks, Elliot gives a quiet laugh—as always, when she cusses. “Language.”

“It’s cold,” she groans, shoving her bare hands deeper in her pockets. “Those shit—stupid-heads who took my gloves are gonna pay for this.”

“Please let me watch.”

“No, don’t encourage me!” She laughs and shoves him in the shoulder with hers—not that it’d knock him off balance. Elliot manages to make walking on ice and through snow look like a literal walk in the park. “C’mon, you’re supposed to talk me out of fights. Be a good escort.”

“Fine,” he chides, plucking off his right glove and handing it to her with an exaggerated, swooping bow. “Don’t fight anyone, take my glove instead. I have two, we can share.”

“You have two for your two hands, idiot,” she laughs, cheeks pink against the wind. “But thank you. I accept your most gracious offer, your majesty.”

“Good. Put it on, you’re gonna get frostbite and I don’t know how to treat that yet.”

She does, blowing a lock of hair out of her face and she wiggles it onto her half-frozen fingers, giving her hand a couple squeezes to warm up her knuckles.

“Much better. Thanks, Elliot.” She glances up at him, a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

Elliot can feel a smile on his own lips as he nods—and quickly looks away, cause her nose is pink and her eyes glowing under the thick wool beanie, and she’s warm.

“What about this hand?”

Ice crunching under their boots, she holds up her other hand, the one left ungloved, and wiggles her fingers in front of him.

“This hand’s gonna get frostbite,” she hums, dropping it back between the two of them. “And then my dad’s gonna kick you out of the city.”

Elliot laughs—even though he doesn’t doubt that she’s not joking. “Here.” He takes off his other glove. “You can have both of mine, I really don’t need them—”

“No, absolutely not!” She pushes the glove back into his hands. “Put that back on, you need at least one. I don’t want your dad hating me either.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure? I really don’t mind.”

“I’m positive. Put your glove back on.”

He does, sceptically, but he does. The threat of frostbite isn’t exactly a joke…

They walk another block in a comfortable silence, listening to the snow crunch and the wind whistle, each with their one bare hand hiding deep in their pockets.

Morgan shivers again.

Elliot glances down—she’s taken her hand out of her pocket, clenching her fingers into a fist and shaking it, trying to keep the blood moving.

Her hand is just there against her thigh, cold, trembling, empty.

His fingers twitch slightly—then he catches himself.

That…would be weird. That would be wrong. Not to mention how Tony would wring his neck for even thinking of doing—doing that, ruining every chance of ever seeing each other again for good.

The streetlight ahead of them seems to be broken again, red lights flashing every few seconds.

That’s definitely a sign, Elliot decides.

They step off the curb to cross the street.

A car honks and Morgan, one foot shooting out from under her, grabs hold of his bicep, hard.

“Ice!” She shrieks, holding onto him for dear life as her feet scramble for traction. “Sorry, sorry!”

Nearly dropping her books, his hand lands on her waist, firmly settling her back on balance.

“I’ve got you,” Elliot laughs, trying to grab her and keep her upright. “I’ve got you.”

What a spectacle they must have been, the two of them slipping and scrambling in the middle of the icy crosswalk, half-laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, half-frantically trying to get out of the road—

“All good?”

She giggles, breath leaving her lips in a little puff of frozen air. “Yep. Sorry, I’m not a snow princess like someone I know.”

He just laughs again—that seems to be all he’s capable of, in her presence. Laughing awkwardly, nervously, giggling like an idiot when he shouldn’t be.

And…his hand is still on her waist.

Move. Move them.

“We’ve gotta move,” she laughs, snapping her fingers in his face. “You can let go of me now, I can stand by myself…”

“Right.” He clears his throat with another awkward little chuckle, hands snapping away from Morgan’s waist. “S-sorry.”

Ungloved hands back in their pockets, the walk resumes—this time, a surge of warmth keeping Elliot’s skin from freezing blue. A warmth he finds specifically trained in his arm, the little spot where she’d grabbed onto him to keep from falling.

Morgan just walks beside him, the tiniest smile turning at her lips, her nose rosy against the chilled wind.

He should say something, right?

“So, um…”

She looks over at him and he stutters.

“S-snow?”

Snow??

That’s the best he could come up with?

A laugh falls from her lips and Elliot silently curses his father for apparently not passing along the whole ‘silvertongue’ trait.

“Lots of it,” she agrees, glancing around the snow-covered city. “Does it snow in Asgard?”

He clears his throat and nods. “When w-we want it to.”

“That’s so cool.” A dreamy glaze passes over her features - Elliot finds himself staring. “You’ve gotta take me there someday. Y’know, when you’re the king-in-training or whatever.”

“No way,” he laughs, grateful for a familiar topic. “I’m not even ready to start thinking about that.”

“Sure. Whatever you say,” she grins. There’s a skip in her step, now.

“I can bring you along sometime soon,” he calls after her when she skips a few steps in front of him. “Once we’re all settled, you can come stay at the palace with us.”

Morgan comes to a stop and waits for him to catch up, a beaming smile on her lips. “I can’t wait.”

Side by side once more, she nudges him with her shoulder.

And nervous awkwardness swallows the two of them whole again.

That damn hand of hers is out of her pocket.

They’re close, really close to each other, to the point where he can feel her warmth radiating - and they’re almost home. If anything’s going to happen, it’s now or never.

She clenches her hand into a cold, trembling fist by her thigh, letting go after a moment.

Warm? No, she’s burning. 

His knuckles brush against hers, just once, cautious and quick, and she hurriedly snaps her head to look away from him - her cheeks beet-red, she tries to bite back her giddy grin.

Don’t say anything, she screams to herself. He’ll do it, he’ll do it—

Elliot pretends to slip a tiny bit. There. Now it could’ve been an accident.

Won’t she say something?

She’s still beaming, the tiny skin-to-skin touch apparently going unnoticed, and Elliot can’t help but give it another try.

This time, with a bit more intent.

She makes sure her hand is open, swinging invitingly between the two of them as they walk, and she almost jumps with a start when his fingertips brush her palm.

Elliot searches her face out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the disgust, looking for any signs that he went too far, that this makes things weird.

And he finds nothing.

Pinky fingers wind around each other, and Elliot holds his breath.

Her grin is clearly visible, peeking out from behind her scarf, her cheeks flushed and pink from what might be the cold but maybe, just maybe, the fact that her little finger is wrapped around his, interlocked and silently assuring him that he’s not crazy, that he didn’t just dream this all up.

They cross another street, only a few more blocks from home, and this time Morgan moves.

She lets go of his pinky finger and lets her hand fall into his, fingertips brushing his palm as he curls his fingers between hers, slowly intertwining until Elliot can’t breathe - palms press together and she give his hand a tight squeeze.

“Can’t let me get frostbite, right?”

Elliot swallows thickly. “Right,” he whispers. “Is—is this okay?”

Morgan turns to him with a nervous giggle, eyes twinkling and cheeks burning. “As long as my parents don’t see, this is perfect.”

The very air around them seems to change, heavy and excited with the possibility of such a dense secret.

“Perfect,” he repeats in a whisper. “I-I won’t tell.”

Clutching at each other’s hands, holding onto each other tight enough to keep all the warmth between them, Elliot can’t stop from grinning.

“Hey, Morgan?”

She’s glowing. “Yeah?”

“You’re, um, really warm.”

Another laugh from her warms his heart. “Is that a good thing, frosty?”

Elliot gives another giddy giggle, glad that those guys had taken her gloves, glad that he gets to walk home with her, glad that she hadn’t pulled away when their hands first met.

“Perfect.”

――――

feel free to send me ideas!!

if you enjoyed…what if i linked my venmo…haha no i jest…no obligations….just in case….u don’t have to ha ha…….unless… ??

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes @narcissxblack @woohoney @anxiousamandapanda @padmeisgay @authordreaming13 @lokisironthrone @theunknowinglys @highfuncti0ningfangirl @epicfallenismine @stubby-toe-589331 @fandomnerdsarecool @retrofantasyland @arch-venus25 @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @littleredstarfish @marshyrebelcloud @okie–loki @atterodominatus @stfxlou @pandacookieowo @tonakings @shinisenko @tinchentitri @nildespirandum @thefallenbibliophilequote @vodka-and-some-sass @highfunctioningfangirl19 @sadwaywardkid @lokioneshot @brooksaza @wild-honey-piy