#tyr wc

[blimbo-buddy]

The differences of DarkStripe and Sasha's births

For context with DarkStripe, @randys-ranch came up with an idea that single-kit litters are seen as bad luck in the clans

[eggfeather]

tyr

[shallowbreeze]

Tyr

Tyr is a fawn Burmese tom with dark brown ears and paws, and long, slender legs.

He is mentioned like once in Pinestar's choice.

[clanslist]

[marmosetpaw]

[demigirlvioletshine]

[visionsofmagic]

bloody [gow headcanon]

prompt: when they see you covered with blood

character(s): kratos, thor, baldur, tyr, freya, freyr & heimdall

wc: 1.7k || tags&notes: gn!reader, no use of y/n or pronouns, fluff, kisses, touches. anger, madness, violence, getting hurt, blood, a little angst (maybe), lover!reader.

enjoy!

KRATOS likely to show a great anger the first time he sees blood on your body, both feeling irritating sense of not being able to protect you and wonder who had enough encourage to touch you – to hurt you. so, his face shows madness coming from pure rage he feels like he felt on his previous life in greek. however, he tries to hide it – decrease it when his palms hold your cheek, making you look at him directly and answer his, “who did this to you?” question which comes like a poison from his mouth – like he is ready to hold blades of chaos and manslaughter everyone cross his path including those hurt you. you only smile as an ensure that you are fine and the blood don’t belong to you. holding his hands, you use them to travel on your body, feeling there is no wound, just blood of others who tried to hurt you. his hazel eyes filled with sparkles of rage soften each moment his hands travel and finally, he takes relaxed breaths, calming down, looking at you with determined and furrowed eye brows, giving a lecture about how you need to be more careful, even calling him whenever there is a treat. he doesn’t speak aloud but his kisses on your face, his hands on your back to push your body to his, hugging you tightly, he shows how much he is afraid to see you hurting. you mean everything to him alongside atreus. he doesn’t waste any time to show you this while he cleans blood with water and cloth as you watch his massive hands work on your body gently. 

THOR is so much like kratos. however, unlike him, thor doesn’t mind using violence at all. he makes you tell names of those who hurt you. if you don’t tell, not wanting to see him acting violently even though they deserve it according to him, he seeks for them after he watches you remove your clothes, getting into a bathtub, cleaning yourself and the wounds you have while thor’s eyes study every part of you from head to toe without any shame, believing he has right to do it without asking for a permission and from deep down, you like seeing him watching you, spending his time like this only for you as his father keep asking him. you know he cares for you, so, you let him sit there, hands on knees, kneeling little towards you. his hands even caress your hair from time to time and after you are done, he picks up clothes you choose for you, helping you get dry and wear them. he kisses every wound you have while doing it, then, he nods, ready to leave for killing those who left marks of violence on your precious body. you let him even if you don’t appreciate his way of solving problems but you know he can’t stop ‘till he breaks bonds, cutting flesh, end their lives. 

BALDUR sees them even though you literally try every spell to hide them from him, knowing very well that if he sees them, he will turn into the madman, using advantage side of being an invulnerable god, killing everyone who crosses his path which goes into torturing creatures who touched his beloved without caring your health and being. however, when he finally sees them, he takes an oath to show them no mercy, put the fact that no one in all realms can think of touching you in any ways into their stupid brains before killing them. he probably choose his dragon to burn them all, laughing menacingly and feeling anger leaving his body with flames coming from burnt out bodies. he never blames you for hiding them but he says how you should stay by his side day and night so he can protect you because the world is cruel and he can’t endure the idea of seeing you getting hurt and sad. you are the only one who gives him the meaning of life and being, so, he always shows you this through these actions, protecting you with all costs, not minding whether his father is disappointed or not, not when he sees you alive and beside him – inside his arms. 

TYR is not likely to act violent against violence, instead, he chooses to take you into a safe zone he knows well, preparing enough medicine to clean wounds properly, giving you your health back, asking you what went wrong and listening carefully with pure attention as you tell the events openly. he helps you calm yourself down, giving you kisses soft as feathers, effective as sun and beautiful as roses. you let yourself getting rid of both wounds and sadness coming with them thanks to his gentle manner, taking you into his arms, covering your body with his massive one and putting kisses on your hair slowly. he is your safe zone, not the place he takes you into, no, he is the meaning of safety and the intoxicated feeling devour you. yes, he gives some advices about being watchful since all realms include danger but he knows you will get stronger after this incident with his help and he just smiles at you, ensure you that he will stay on your side forever, heal every wound you will have even if it means a hundred time. 

FREYA choose not to show her anger when you seek for medicine in her cave, showing where bloods coming from after removing clothes, exposing some parts of your body without thinking twice, being in a safe place giving you confidence to do so. she doesn’t spend any time, picks right and efficient magical spells and potion, using them to make you better – to see you well, safe and sound which she needs to see every day and night. she doesn’t like when you pull a wry face because of the pain, no, she prefers you with a strong gesture and full health. she tells you to rest in her cave, not thinking about anything, just reaching your health back while she discovers how you get hurt – who you get violence from, and she doesn’t think for second time as strong devilish magic of her finds their targets, giving them pain – much more than you felt, anger’s sparkles on her eyes, glowing lights on her palms and arms. she listens sounds that her targets make, her anger getting lower. when she finally is done with them, she rushes to see you again and preparing food to eat – good one because you need to recover and she needs to show her concern through intimate moments. also, she is determined to teach you lots of protection magic and spells ‘till your mind is filled with them. 

FREYR ‘s face will brighten with concern as he rushes to you, his hands reaching to you, grapping your arms, caressing them from up to down ‘till he holds your hands, asking so many questions in a minute such as whether you are okay or not, need anything from him, how you are covered in such blood. his concerned and calm manner changes into angry and mad one as he asks questions like ‘who did this to you’. he needs to know it – he wonders who can put a finger on you in the realm in which he opened his eyes for the first time, called as home. he is ready to take down those stupid creatures who thought they can hurt you and get away with it. however, he is just a silly because you just go for a hunt and the prey’s blood is all over you, so, you aren’t injured, no, instead, you are good and when you tell him that while holding his cheeks, half-laughing, he blinks so many times you ask if he is okay. when he comes to himself once again, he hugs you, saying how happy he is to see you weren’t hurt. he takes you from the hand into his special room, spending some times – some intimate times with you in there, letting you realize how much you mean to him, “don’t do that again. you have no idea how I can go mad if I see you hurt.” you listen him, then, you say you will not scare him like that again. also, you let him go for a few hunts with you after that day because every time he looks at you with cute eyes, making you become softer and let him travel behind you all the time. 

HEIMDALL is surprised and taking back when he sees your face and upper body filled with red blood. firstly, he goes for your mind, reading it to understand how you ended with these much blood. when he sees the fights you had before coming back to asgard – to him, how you got cuts from here to there, nothing serious but enough to make your face darken with pain, his own anger blooms inside his stomach. he is angry because of both how they dared to touch you in the first place and how he failed to show to all realms that no one could touch you since you are beloved one of heimdall, son of odin, god of foresight and lord of the asgard. he notes that he will travel around all realms, making every living beings understand the consequences of hurting and even touching you, heimdall’s beloved one and lover who he can burn all places for. after that, he lets you approach him with a shy expression, knowing he already knows how you ended up like that. you hate to be weak and you hate more when heimdall sees you weak. however, he shows no cockiness as he makes his way to you, putting a hand on your cheek to caress it, saying, “I will make sure each of them suffer enough to remember it ‘till they reach for hell.” with glowing purple eyes filled with proud because of seeing you fight for your life, coming back to him, and rage because of seeing faces of your attackers. he then makes you to follow him into his room he barely uses just for spending time with you in private, removing your clothes, cleans your wounds, reads your thoughts and feeling protective over you. he realizes how his hands go crazy while thinking how it was so easy for those attackers to hurt you while he is afraid to touch you sometimes. he will be their nightmare for sure and he goes for their heads after he spends a quite calm night with you on bed, giving you the love you needs to see after such violent incident. 

🍨

[dalgursbate]

take a bite out of me for dinner first (astarion/tav oneshot)

Summary: Tav didn’t let Astarion bite her when he asked. Not because his bloodthirst bothers her or anything, because it truly doesn’t. It’s just that she’s a fighter and can’t afford to risk her strength like that when there are other options available. She doesn’t regret the decision, either—now that everyone knows he’s a vampire, he seems to be getting more than his fill of the goblins, gnolls, and Tyrrans they fight. To Tav, it seems like a pretty reasonable solution, and she’s mostly happy with it. She just doesn’t know why he has to look at her like that while he feeds. (Alternatively, Astarion masters the art of the hard sell.)

Rating: Explicit WC: 2,590 Pairing: M/F Astarion/F!Tav CW: horny violence, bloodsucking, transactional sex

—

once is an instance, twice is a hobby, but three times is a threat.

—

The first time it happens, Tav almost convinces herself she’s hallucinating it.

It’s the kind of thing that would make her sound paranoid if she said it out loud, that Astarion looks at her funny when he feeds on Flind. Because it’s not like he’s staring at her; their eye contact only lasting a moment. She can’t even really put her finger on what makes it so weird, except that there’s a kind of intensity to the way his gaze meets her own.

Even if there is, though, Tav’s not really sure what that would mean. Maybe it’s because he’s searching for any sign of disgust or fear on her face, she thinks. Maybe doing something like this so publicly is vulnerable or intimate in a way that discomforts him. Either would be a perfectly reasonable explanation.

It’s just. That isn’t what it feels like, if she’s being honest. What it feels like is that she’s the one Astarion is biting, and she has no way of knowing if the imagined sensation of it is even slightly accurate but there’s a phantom pain in her neck all the same, as keenly felt as if it were actually happening.

Her face grows hot and she looks away quickly, slicing brutally into the shoulder of a nearby gnoll to distract herself from the way her insides are vibrating.

Somehow, she doubts Flind is having the same reaction.

When Astarion asked to bite her, back in the early days of traveling together, Tav had refused. She still feels good about that decision, to preserve her own strength in the interest of none of them getting killed. If there had been no other options, she would have more than happily volunteered. But there are other options, so it just doesn’t make sense for her to.

She sort of has to remind herself of that in the days following the incident with the gnolls, though.

After giving it some (too much) thought, Tav comes to the conclusion that she must have been projecting. Astarion was probably only thinking about feeding himself and winning the battle; how would he have had the time to do anything else, really? If she was more affected watching it than she should have been, then maybe that says something about her that she ought to reflect on.

This is the thought that carries her through defeating the paladins of Tyr, clearing out the goblin camp, and eventually entering the Underdark. As a result, her relationship with Astarion has been nothing but professional, even approaching companionable.

She just doesn't look at him much in battle anymore, and it's fine.

That is, until she has no choice but to during the fight against the duergar in the abandoned village. Shadowheart looks like she's about to topple over all the way across the beach, surrounded by two undead, and Tav knows she’s already used the magic it would take to turn them. In an instant, she’s running towards the cleric to offer aid, passing by Astarion on the way.

And he notices her. And she notices him, and she notices him taking a bite out of Gekh Coal.

And that’s just unfair, really. Because the second their eyes meet it’s like a light switch, how quickly his gaze becomes heavy and wanting. He looks like he wants to devour her, and Tav has no idea if that means he’s going to kill her or fuck her, and she doesn’t have time to interrogate it because she’s already running past him to Shadowheart. She swears she can feel his eyes on her back the entire time, but she has no way of knowing if it’s true because there isn’t an amount of gold in Faerûn that could tempt her to turn around and face him again.

She doesn’t have time to dwell on it now, though; there’s too much they need to get done and their days are growing increasingly short in supply. So she figures she’ll just do what she’s always had to do as a fighter: endure it and keep going.

Enduring is easy until it isn’t, because the last straw is unceremoniously placed upon Tav’s back with a heavy hand at Grymforge.

Their plan had been specific and well thought out, thank you very much. Astarion was supposed to mount a ranged assault from above while the rest of the party and Brithvar’s troops handled the ground offensive. Tav decided on this plan for a couple of reasons; namely, the obvious altitude advantage, but also because with Astarion splintered from the group and further away from the fray, it would be much easier for him to escape and revive them later should things go truly pear-shaped. Which are serviceably good justifications, she thinks, for putting him as far out of sight as possible.

And it’s been working splendidly—so well, in fact, that all of Nere’s troops are either dead or all but. So well that the next time Tav stabs her sword into the drow's gut, the blood drains from his face and rushes to greet her blade. He grunts softly, and Tav knows he must be only barely hanging on.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a flurry of motion from above and thinks to herself, Good, all it’s going to take is one arrow and this bastard will be done for. She expects to hear the attack whiz past her any moment, but it doesn’t. Instead, the movement leaves her periphery and enters her line of sight proper, growing larger and closer at a pace that suggests Astarion is sprinting towards them as fast as he can, and within a fraction of a second he arrives to stand behind Nere.

Which, to be clear, was not the plan. The plan really only had one part to it, and that part was that Astarion should stay up top. It was such a simple plan that his sheer dedication to undermining her is almost inspiring.

And, of course, Astarion does not get within melee range so he can use his dagger. Obviously not. Obviously what happens is that he slides one hand around Nere’s waist, until his fingers just barely dip into the spilling blood from the wound Tav just gave him. What happens is he fists a hand in the drow’s hair—a drow with white hair and red eyes just like hers, Tav notes numbly—to bare his neck.

What happens is he sinks his teeth in Nere’s throat without looking away from Tav. He fixes his stare to hers, half-lidded and entirely self-satisfied, and rumbles a groan so low that it harmonizes with Nere’s thin, squeaky death knell. Astarion’s fingers splay wide over the cultist's hip, coating them in even more blood in a way that, in other circumstances, could only be interpreted as a lover’s caress. He pulls the drow back to lie against his chest, Nere’s head rolling lifelessly onto Astarion’s shoulder as his body spasms and jerks for the last time in the grim pantomime of a tender act.

At some point, Tav realizes she’s holding her breath. If not for her reflexes intervening, she is certain she would have dropped her sword by now with the way her limbs go watery. Worse still, the sudden rush in her ears is so deafening she can’t hear the rest of the fight anymore, and that’s so fucking risky because they haven’t won yet. 

Astarion releases Nere with a smirk, pushing him so he topples towards Tav and she nearly stumbles getting out of the way. He brings his bloody fingers to his lips, dragging his tongue leisurely in between and up them.

Not once does he stop looking at her.

There’s a dark smoke rising through her insides and tickling her stomach. She stares back at him silently, mouth closed as though afraid of it spilling out into the air between them. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does she, but he tilts his head inquisitively at her. The message is more than clear. Tav knows what he’s asking, and she knows what he’s offering for it. And hells, she doesn’t think she has any choice but to accept. She can’t keep getting knocked out in one hit by Astarion’s fucking eyes of all things every time they have to kill a monster. And she doesn’t know him well, but she knows him well enough to know he won’t stop until he gets what he wants from her.

That much is abundantly clear.

Gods, Tav has no idea if he even likes her. But she’s pretty sure she doesn’t care, unable to stand the idea of being wound up like this forever. So she does something that will almost certainly wind up being a mistake: she nods.

Astarion finds Tav later that night before she has the chance to find him, leading her out to a clearing a little ways off camp. Without her armor, the night air feels cool and pleasant, and the spot he walks them to is covered in soft-looking, lush grass. Once they get there, he drags his gaze over her form greedily, and Tav feels goosebumps rise on the skin of her arms at the attention.

“Strip,” Astarion orders, and his voice comes out through almost-clenched teeth, shaking slightly with the enormity of his want. Like he’s been waiting for this forever and it's almost in his grasp. Like there is nothing he would not do to try to satisfy the dark, yawning hunger inside of him.

Tav complies wordlessly, dropping her clothes unceremoniously to the ground next to her. In mere moments, she stands before him utterly nude.

“Come here,” He breathes, and his eyes are so wild and wide and open, his each and every craving playing out in the way he can’t keep them still.

And how is she supposed to resist him, when he looks like that? So she goes, stepping towards him until there are only a few breaths between them.

Gently, Astarion turns her so her back is to him, a tremor in his hands as he does. He positions her the same way he’d positioned Nere, and fuck, that’s so messed up but Tav can’t stifle her moan when her shoulders come into contact with his chest.

She can hear him inhaling through his nose as he tangles a hand in her hair, forcing her to bare her throat to him. Then he’s exhaling a sigh over her neck, and the frigid thrill of it is enough to make her shiver.

The hand that isn’t buried in Tav’s hair (and oh, the way he tugs at her locks ever-so-softly is fantastic) creeps around to dance just barely over her hip, and she nearly jumps at the contact.

“Don’t worry, love,” Astarion says in a tone that she thinks really ought to have her worried. “I’ll take it slowly.”

And he does, leaning closer to brush an open-mouthed kiss on her neck at the same time that he walks his fingers unhurriedly over the skin of her hip and down, down, down towards a place they’d be so much more useful. Tav whines high in her throat when he reaches the apex of her pelvis, his tongue coming out to taste her pulse point as his fingers slide to either side of where she really needs them, so close but not nearly enough. She feels more than ready to get on with it, so she tries to buck into his palm to signal her mounting impatience. He pulls his hand back before she can get the contact she seeks, however, stubbornly refusing to let her rush him.

Because the pace isn't for her, is it? The way he draws it out, torturously languid—it's not Tav he's trying to tease.

When the tips of his fangs graze her jugular, Astarion's fingers finally begin rubbing calm, feather-light circles over her clit. A needy little noise escapes Tav’s lips at the sensation, and her head falls back onto his shoulder. It gives him even better access, and he rewards her for it by caressing her more firmly, until his touch is almost something she could actually come from.

“Fuck,” Tav cries, incapable of smothering it.

“Yes, I'm sure you'd like that. But let's not be greedy, shall we?” Astarion chuckles with his mouth pressed against her, and his teeth push slightly into her flesh, and it’s not enough to pierce but it makes her squirm against him. He skates the two fingers lower, teasing at her entrance, his thumb replacing their presence on Tav’s clit.

“Please,” she begs, and the word breaks in half like a wishbone. Astarion inhales once more, the cool tip of his nose tracing down one of her veins. The hand in her hair is trembling even as the one playing with her cunt remains utterly steady.

There’s a moment where it seems like even the wind stops. But then Astarion is plunging his teeth into her neck at the same time that he drives his fingers inside of her, and both of them let out an obscene moan into the quiet evening.

He fucks her carefully, deliberately—his fingers curve up as though beckoning her towards something sinister, exactly in the spot that she is most sensitive, while his thumb finally starts applying the speed and pressure she’s been desperate for. A tingling fire takes hold of her body, then, skating across every nerve before gathering in her core as she gets closer to release. It’s like he knows where to press and pull at her without even needing to ask, so eerily good at this, and the thought makes her shudder as her hips roll into his hand.

Tav can feel the blood leaving her, can feel that she only has so much time before she’ll need to make him let go of her. She doesn’t know if he’s cruel enough to stop touching her when that happens, but it doesn’t matter because she wants to come like this anyway, with his teeth sunk deep into the meat of her and her head growing lighter by the second. So she grinds against him with fervor, one of her hands reaching down to cover his as she ruts against his palm to achieve her own end. The other grabs the back of his head to hold him in place while she furiously brings herself off against his fingers, the hot static buzzing in her veins finally reaching a delirious crescendo until the only thing she can hear is the weakening, fluttery pounding of her own heart in her ears.

The hand she has in his hair goes limp and falls back to her side, and Astarion releases his hold on her throat and wipes delicately at his mouth. After allowing her a moment to breathe, he puts a hand on her shoulders to force her to stand upright, putting some distance between them. His eyes are glittering, sharp, focused as he levels her with a grin.

“I must say," Astarion says, and it isn't quite cold but whatever warmth in it probably owes itself to the heat of her blood inside of him, "it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” He bows in a charmingly dramatic manner, then immediately turns to leave. 

Tav watches as he saunters off back in the direction of camp, and this time, she finds she can't look away.

[postsofbabel]

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[warriors-pride]

Bi gay Tyr, ace het trans man Strikestone, bi demiromantic enby Juniperclaw, aroace genderfae Sweetpaw, he/him lesbian Skyheart

Sorry for the wait, my motivation was pretty dead

[goatpaste]

🥨

[Commission info] [Etsy]

[exocynraku]

one of the only cats to have a canonical breed

[myrtlebloom]

[gougarpaw]

[Image Description: A digital drawing of Tyr from the Warrior Cats book Pinestar’s Choice. Tyr is a light brown cat with yellow eyes and a blue collar with a silver tag. The top of his head, his ears, paws, and tail tip are brown. His chest and the insides of his ears are cream. He is laying down. Above his back “Tyr” is written in orange. End Description.]

Tyr is a fawn Burmese tom.

[rookflower]

(haughty kittypet voice) ACTUALLY, I am a PEDIGREE

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hii!! I'm new to your page. I'm wondering if you'd tyr to write a small Loki oneshot? It's basically Loki coming back from Ragnarok to Avengers tower with Thor, hoping to see his love of his life. The reader, but.. when he arrived he looked around for her but doesn't find her. Instead he finds the avengers looking gloomy and seemingly grieving? Then he asked where the reader is towards the avengers. In which they answered they died. Murdered, Possibly by Thanos or Hydra in a mission or somewhere.

Thanks -Vic'♡

I'm sorry if this isn't something you're used to write. I hope you'd like this idea. Probably angsty idea.

Hi Vic! Welcome, welcome 💝 I'm glad you found my page and sent me this ask because I really love angst with a fluffy ending so I hope you enjoy this!

Until We Meet Again || Loki

Warnings: Reader death, angst, grief, fluff. WC: 1k

“Why can’t he see me?” You asked Heimdall, the panic in your voice peaking as you reached for Loki only to find your hand pass through his cheek. “How did I get here?”

It was as if you were simply dreaming, unable to remember the moment before this as you looked around. Your vision was tunnelled and a black void surrounded you except where Loki stood, your one light in a very dark world.

“Heimdall, what is happening?” You trembled as the tunnel narrowed even further and you slowly lost sight of your love.

“I’m sorry Princess, I could hold on no longer.” Heimdall spoke from the darkness. “Valhalla calls us home.”

“Valhalla? This must be some sort of joke. That would mean that I am dead, that you are dead.” You shook your head in disbelief but flashes of memories assaulted you, a blast and gunshots then pain everywhere before it faded to nothing. You were meant to be at the Avengers Tower waiting for Loki’s return but something had called you home. Your people had needed help and you had tried to answer, forgetting the fight as you called Heimdall to open the Bifrost.

“There is nothing to fear in death, Princess, you will see him again.” Heimdall promised, his hand gently resting on yours as he guided you through the dark, towards a faint glow on the horizon. “The sun will shine on us.”

You remembered Loki’s promise that he recited every time you were apart, a small smile growing as the warming rays kissed your skin. “And a new day shall dawn.”

Loki sensed something amiss the moment the carrier touched down, a heaviness to the air that he couldn’t explain. They had won, Ragnorok was over and although their people had suffered a great loss, they had won.

“Where is my darling wife?” Loki asked, his eyes scanning the crowd a second time before he felt among them with his keener senses, all of them finding emptiness.

Tony was the first to speak up as the last of the surviving Asgardians were helped off the carrier and assisted to the medical wing. His voice broke as he looked away. “She’s gone.”

“What do you mean? Where?” Loki hissed as his knives appeared in his hands. “What did you do!”

“Brother, I’m sure we will find her.” Thor said calmly as he pushed Loki to lower his weapons. “She can’t have gone far. Did she go to the new compound?”

“No. She’s gone.” Tony swallowed sickly. “We were in a hard fight and suddenly she said she needed to go home. I don’t know what happened but it distracted her. We did everything we could to try to save her but…”

Loki surged forward and Thor barely caught him before he could attack him. “You lie!” 

“I wouldn’t lie about this.” Tony sniffled, Steve placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  “We all loved her.”

Thor’s arms crushed Loki to his chest, taking his brother’s weight as the universe attempted to crush his spirit and pull him to the depths of Hel. “Listen to me, Lo. She’s a warrior, she will be feasting in the great halls with father as we speak.”

“I’m Jotun, Thor, do you not understand!” Loki hissed, pushing his way out of his brother’s arms. “There is no Valhalla for the likes of me. I will never see her again.”

Thor grabbed Loki by the scruff as he tried to turn away and pinned him with a stare that froze Loki. “You are a prince of Asgard, do not think that blood is what determines your fate.” 

723 Years Later “Welcome home, my prince.” You smiled as he stepped through the opaque wall beneath the arch woven from branches of Yggdrasil. “I have been waiting for you.”

Tears shimmered in his green eyes as he stumbled into your arms. Streaks of grey lightened his dark tresses and the lines on his face were etched a little deeper but he was still just as handsome as the day you met him all those centuries ago. His cool fingers traced your jawline, the disbelief clear on his face as he tried to figure out if this were a cruel trick.

“You told me the sun would shine on us again.” You whispered as you turned him to the light that glowed over Valhalla. “You were right.”

Loki's breath shuddered as he accepted the truth and he cupped your warm cheeks. “I have missed you terribly, my love.”  

“And I you.” 

You ached for a taste of his lips and rose to your tiptoes to claim them once again. Time had changed nothing, your body still melted in his embrace and his tongue still dominated yours as his arms encircled your waist. A hunger burned within you and he seemed to be consumed by the same fire as his hands reached for the pin on your armour. 

A giggle broke you from his kiss and you looked around the empty field. “We have eternity together.” 

“Believe me, I know, I have thought about this moment for centuries and exactly how I would spend it with you, and then every moment after that too.” Loki grinned, dropping his hold on you so that he could raise his arms up, his power building a home from nothing. 

Your jaw dropped at the sight of his power being used in a way you had never seen and the cottage was just like one you had spoken about. It had been a fantasy you had dreamt of, living with Loki in the cute little home, far from the fighting and the wars. “You remembered.” 

“No more fighting, no more wars.” Loki promised as he took your hand and led you to the house. “Just you and I.”

He swept your feet out from under you and kicked the door open so he could step across the threshold with you in his arms. 

“I love you, Loki.”

His green eyes captivated you as he placed your feet on the floor, needing his hands free to wipe the tears that were rapidly filling your lash line. “I love you too, for all time, always.”