#valkrie x reader

[littlest-w01f]

Hands

Cassian x Reader

For @starfallweek [hosted by: @azsazz and @writingsbychlo]

Starfall Week 2024 Masterlist

Day 4: Character A finally makes a move on Character B

Summary: Cassian just wants to hold Reader's hand

Cw: Suggestive, mentions of sex

You and Cassian had been friends for centuries, meeting in one of the Illyrian villages while he was in the streets, wearing scraps, he had left the village near Windhaven to live with the Lady Night and the Heir, he had returned Carynthian, showing up to your door, older, more mature, more handsome.

Any contempt you had for him having left you had melted away the second he was there outside your doorstep, you had run to hug him, melting in his hold as he spun you around, old friends reuniting.

New feelings emerged as the years passed, every time Cassian visited you in the little bookstore that you had taken over from your mother, your feelings grew with decades of back and forth, flirting and being friendly became a quite thin line to tightrope on.

Your father not being the worst of males letting you work and do whatever you felt like, still carrying guilt that he wasn't powerful enough to save yours and your mother's wings. Your family weren't warriors, which made you quite lesser ranked.

So, that's how you lived, in the bookstore you maintained, the bell over the door rang and you greeted whoever it was in your professional voice, "Good morning, how may I help you?"

"Cass!" You grinned ear to ear when Cassian stood in front of you, you ran around the counter and jumped on the giant in a hug, pulling away with a blush, your old feelings for the male increasing as you caught his scent, you didn't understand how you could feel for him as much as you did, his body having an effect on yours that made you almost want to slap yourself.

Cassian smiled, releasing you from the hug, giving you a gentle pat on your head, making you give him a glare, "Hello, y/n."

Cassian simply handed you a card, with three different handwritings on it, you smiled looking up at him, "They already read their last books? That's a talent." You sounded quite impressed

"Yeah," Cassian scoffed lightly, "They read smut more than they train, sitting in a little circle in the House while they have their noses buried in those raunchy books."

You smiled, already on the ladder, taking out the books that the three Valkries had listed, "You have to admit, these are some good books."

You set the books down in front of him, Cassian smiling at you, "If you say so..."

"If I say so?" You looked at him a little offended.

"Well, don't get me wrong, I love some good sex in writing myself," Cassian gave a cheeky smirk, "But these are just a male with a disproportionally large dick piping down an oh-so-tiny female."

You raised your brow at him, "Like you?"

"Oh no no," Cassian flared his wings fully, winking at you, "I am very propotionate."

You blushed softly, your eyes on his wings, "Aren't you modest..." You mumble sarcastically.

"Well, I'm not..." Cassian looked down at the pile of books, "And maybe... You could help me get these back to the House." He looked at you hopefully, while you were packing the books in some bags.

"I can't fly up..." You were slightly confused, "And if you carry me it'll be all the more difficult for you..."

"It's Starfall tonight." He looked nervous, "Stay for Starfall at the House." You waited for him to continue, hope bubbling in you at the sudden change in conversation, "Stay with me."

You smiled, "With you?" You repeated.

"Yeah, and maybe if you do like me the way I like you by the end of the festivities, we could be more than friends?" Cassian was hopeful.

"Yes!" You replied a little too fast, then cleared your throat before saying again, "Yes."

"You know..." Cassian's cheeks coloured, reaching his hand out. "I just want to hold your hand."

You raised your brow at him, "That's all, General?" Moving your hand to be moulded around his.

Cassian shrugged, "Yes, of course." You didn't miss his body's reaction to the title from your lips.

And he did hold your hands, all throughout Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie "oooh"ing at your joint hands, before diving into their newly acquired books.

He held your hands during Starfall, smiling watching both you and the sky.

He held your hands after, while eating and drinking, while introducing you formally as partners to his close family.

He held your hands over your head, taking you on his bed, wings flaring, groans and moans loud in the room.

He held your hands over your back, having you on your knees as he took you from behind, his very proportionate cock filling you up perfectly.

{General taglist: @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria}

[jeffthesalamander]

About Me

Hi my name is Gem. My pronouns are she/they.

I am a writer for MCU fanfics. The list below is what I am comfortable writing (for future request forms).

You are 100% not allowed to repost any of my work.

I write:

~ Natasha Romanoff x Reader

~ Yelena Belova x Reader

~ Melina Vostokoff x Reader

~ Wanda Maximoff x Reader

~ Peggy Carter x Reader

~ WandNat x Reader

~ Maria Hill X Reader

~ Valkrie x Reader

~ Vison x Reader 

~ Bucky Barnes x Reader

~ Sam Wilson x Reader

~ Steve Rogers x Reader

~ Thor x Reader

~ Loki x Reader

~ T’Challa x Reader

And any combination for these characters together. Reader can and will identify as any gender or be non-binary. I will also write the actors and/or the actresses of these characters.

My hard limits:

~ I will not be writing smut between family members

- I will not write some kinks that make me uncomfortable

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

[thehoundwrites]

7 - King Valkyerie? 👀👀

Yes yes I can

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Death Metal Odinson

Summary: Being the new manager of the up and coming Norwegian rock band is harder than you thought it would be.

Warning:18+ ONLY, choking, non con, cream-pie, autoerotic asphyxiation (i think)

Note: didn't feel like proofing this so let me know if there is a glaring edit I need to make. Sorry so lazy. this should’ve been called band shirt. LOL. Once again inspired by this challenge

https://sapphirescrolls.tumblr.com/post/650739920586047488/rockstarau-friends-masterlist

Dark Thor x Reader

The Norwegian death metal band were running three hours late to stage. The crowd displayed their displeasure by chanting expletives while you watched anxiously. You knew things were going to get worse until the rockers decided it was time to grace them with their presence.

Ever since the label assigned you to manage the group they had been a thorn in your side. You didn't want to blame them as a whole, but their leader was a bad influence on the bunch. New bands always had a tendency to test their boundaries and this group was no different.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding when the lights dimmed. Finally. The rowdy chants turned to cheers and when the spot light illuminated the group your lips sunk into a frown. They were all drunk, you could tell by the slight sway of each member and you hoped that was all. Loki the only one holding his composer as they approached their stations. The only beacon of hope you had in regards to possibly taming the group.

Your lips set into a deeper frown when your heard the cords. Thor began to play chords to the song you told him not to play and as you predicted the crowd was not happy. The audible scoff from Thor was heard stadium wide. When Thor spit into the crowd and flipped them off, you grabbed your purse and anxiously dug through it to find your cell, you were having flash backs of Oklahoma.

You had told him repeatedly not to do that, especially after what happened in Tucson. They barely made it out unscathed doing the exact same thing. Coming in late and not rewarding the crowd for their patients.

This audience seemed to be cut from the same cloth. They changed their chants to jeers.  A bottle immediately flew toward his head and the crowd that had been somewhat tame were now destroying anything that wasn't nailed down.

With your cell at the ready you dialed security. "Extraction protocol engage" you commanded. They confirm the order before you hung up. Security were about to rushed the stage before these fans tried to 'take souvenirs'.

Three men crowded Thor as he taunted the eager patrons to come get some. While Loki took aim and swung his guitar at the head of a young guy that got way too close. You cringed when it finally splintered across the face the poor kid. Heimdall managed to wrap an electrical cord around one guys throat and even from this distance you could see the lights in his eyes going out. Security arrived just as Valkrie's kick drum few into the animus crowd making the bad situation worse.

Lawsuits. That’s all you could see from the madness. They instigated it and the label would be paying for it, and did the band care? No.

By the time you reached the hall that lead to the bus you had to stop and marvel at how such a narrow hall could fit so many people. Groupies of every size shape and walk of life squished themselves together as they waited to be chosen by the band.

Security parted the sea of bodies as they escorted the band to the bus. You watched as they took their pick while they clumsily made their way through the packed path as if they had not just started a riot three feet away.

The doors of the bus closed behind you as the band members played with their toys at various points in the bus. Internally you groaned, but you weren't a rookie to rocker life. You had gone through many a band and have long since learned to stomach this behavior.

"What the hell were you thinking!" You berated Thor first, marching over to him. He wasn't listening. How could he with the groupie's tongue halfway down his throat?

"Three hours late on stage, drunk and I told you don't play that song. I told you before that it had not been cleared. And at least give the crowd a treat if you are going to be late!" You looked around to all the other members, but they too were distracted by their own pretty young things to care about the mayhem that they had rot.

The label would be coming down hard on you for this like you could control these degenerates.

"Why can't you be more like your brother?" You knew he didn't like it, but after the headache he had just given you, this was your sweet revenge. Their feud rivaled that of Oasis and nearly costed them their contracts, but cooler heads and stacks of cash prevailed.

"Loki shows up to rehearsal on time, Loki shows up to interviews on time and sound check... guess what." You motioned one arm dramatically at Loki. That was enough to tare his attention away from the needy groupie on his hip. Loki smirked devilishly as you praised him over his brother, while Loki's groupie fell to her knees before him.

Thor pushed all the hair that encompassed his face away with his meaty fingers. The strands just as defiant as he, rebelled and fell forward covering his face again. But not before revealing the deep set frown on the normally cheerful face.

The busty groupie that had been pawing at his side was now pushed away harshly. Landing on her ass next to Heimdall and his equally busty toy.

Before either of you could register her protest Thor's palm smashed into your face. You flailed as he marched you backwards. When you heard the slam of the only door on the bus, you knew he had led you to ‘The Quiet Room’. The ironic name dubbed by the band. In actuality they took bets to see how loud they could make their conquest cum.

Thor released your head, but not before pushing it hard thrusting you backwards. You stumbled backwards on to the bed. If you weren't so pissed you. Would cringe at the disgust you felt from touching the mattress. If walls could talk then this bed would write a tell all novel.

"Oh you have lost your damn mind! I am not one of your little groupies you can just toss around I am a grown ass woman!" You pushed up on your elbows, before rising steady to your feet.

"I'm Fuckin tired of your attitude. This is my band" Thor growled at you. Raking his hands through his locks again Thor's hair cascaded down as he blocked the only exit. His long blonde hair looked wild, giving him the look of a lion ready to pounce.

"You signed a contract, so that makes this the labels band" you remind the bratty rocker. A thick tension fell between you two and when your phone rang you were thankful for the distraction.

You had, had it with him. Brushing past him you proceeded to walk out of the room to take the call. A flash of black fell past your eyes, then suddenly you found yourself slamming backwards into the bare chest of Thor.

"I've had enough of your attitude.." Thor growled as your finger tips slipped off the knob when you reached for it.

The fabric wrapped around your neck tightened as your cell phone slipped from your grip. You were in a full on panic, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

The door before you blurred as your eyes went wide and watered as you struggled to breathe. Clawing at it, it was too thick to break free with your nails.

"Stop... please" you croaked out as his branch of an arm hooked around your waist. You felt your feet dangle as he lifted you up and spun you toward the bed.

"Not so mouthy now hmmm" He lead you like a dog forward, your legs tripping over themselves as he marched you to the bed. You shouted at him to free you but your words came out broken and cracked as you gasped for air.

"Look your in charge I'm sorry" you struggled to pull the fabric off. You finally felt Thor's other hand move up your body, groping your tits through your blouse. Each squeeze felt more desperate than the last and when his finger strummed at your buttons you started to hiccup.

"Hmm I like the way you sound all pathetic and weak."

You had two choices, fight his other hand pulling at your shirt or free your neck. Your natural instinct kicked in and you chose air.

You felt him chuckle as he ripped of your blouse hard to one side, most of the buttons found the floor while the others struggled to stay hooked. It was enough for him to reach inside your opened shirt, palming your breasts, humming as he played with your nipples as you fought to breathe.

When he pinched your nipples you felt bizarrely aroused. A heat built up between your legs when he tweaked your hard nipples. Through your chokes you moaned involuntarily and of course he chuckled to his delight. "I see someone likes the rough stuff hmmm" he pressed his firm cock into your back and you closed your eyes and prayed this would be as far as it goes.

"Jack me off and I might let you breathe" Thor commanded. You could barely hear him over the sound of your own heart beat in your ear. You felt the fabric slack and your chin fell forwards as you breathed-in frantically. "Hurry up now, I promise you won't like it if I do it myself" He said into the shell of your ear.

Clumsily you reached behind, fumbling with his belt, you winced when he tightened it. You were desperate, reaching into his pants you found his member already hard. Thor hummed as you grasped it.

"That's it." Thor's body heat felt as if it poured into you as you awkwardly stroked him from behind your back. The door to the room banged and someone shouted "It's pretty quite in there!" Taunting Thor.

"You hear that we need to give them a 'treat'" he chuckled throwing your own words back in your face. Your mascara started to streaking down your cheek as shame and embarrassment ripped through you.

"Take off your pants."  

You couldn't do it. Instead you reached up and grabbed the blondes hair and yanked it. That earned you a harsh twist of the shirt around your neck, the fabric burned your skin and you let go to once again free your neck. "Well, if you want things done right..." Switching hands he moved down your hips. Thor hooked a hands at your waist and forced the fabric down. You felt your seems burst as he forced it passed your ass.   "Hands flat on the bed" Thor ordered, but he just pushed you forward by your neck restraint. Thor loomed over you, his cock pressed against your bare ass. You squirmed when he began moving the fabric of your panties to the side. You felt like a wild dog on a leash, fighting to get free. "Don't worry I'll be gentle" he lied. You felt your walls strain around his cock as he filled you to the core. "She's as tight as we thought boys!" He shouted over you. Banging and cheering came through the door as you clawed at the sheets, trying to take hold to escape him. Digging his fingers into your hip he slammed into you with sinister delight. "Too.. much" you managed to choke out, but that only seemed to rile him up. Thrusting you so hard that he almost lost his own grip. "Oh by the gods you grip me so fucking good." It felt as if he was splitting you from the inside. Your sight began to fade as you felt yourself barreling to an end. You choked out a loud mewl as he held on to the knot on the back of your neck. Yanking your head back to watch you choke as you cum around him. You felt the fabric loosen again even though his grip on the shirt stayed threateningly in place. Thor roared loudly, filling you with cum, before falling on top of you. "I think I like you better like this, with my cock deep in your cunt."

[wereallydobevibing]

Even The Gods Are Not Immune — Thor x Reader [Part 2]

Prompt — You, Thor's wife, despite being powerful and extremely admirable, had been dusted in the snap. Now, you make a comeback.

[ Tags: @whos-too-bi @bukoandcoconutsarelife ]

Warnings — pretty sad, mentions of sex, cursing, endgame spoilers

Your beloved husband had attempted to keep it together once he had beheaded Thanos—keep the drinking to a minimum, rule over the remainder of his Asgardian people as you would have pushed him to.

But it was proving to be difficult, and these days, he only truly found comfort in playing Midguardian video games with Korg and drinking bottle after bottle. One, to hide his shame, and two, to numb the pain of your absence.

He no longer slept in your previously shared bedroom. It smelled too much like you, was decorated exquisitely by your hand, everywhere Thor turned, all he saw was you. Almost as if you were haunting him—hating him from beyond the grave for not trying harder to keep you and his people alive.

The guilt was slowly killing him.

Thor attempted to bed a common whore one night, only to find himself emptying his stomach of that night's dinner. But he hadn't vommited out of drunkness—it was out of guilt, sadness, self-hatred. This woman was not you—her hair did not feel so smooth, or even smell as nicely as yours. Her skin was not as soft, her kiss was not so loving.

This was not the woman he spent thousands of years loving, no woman he'd ever meet would ever be you.

When Bruce came to gather him, Thor had clearly lost it. His gut protuded from his stomach of what used to be rock hard abs, his hair wild and untrimmed. He was disgusting—dirty and horrid smelling.

"Your wife is gone, you have the chance to bring her back, but instead of fufilling her wishes of you acting as a king like she would've wanted you to, all you do is sit around, drink and play video games?" Bruce exclaimed—he had developed a relationship with you overtime.

You had been kind whenever he Hulked out, always supporting the big green monster and treating him with your gentle nature—unafraid. Both Bruce and Hulk found comfort in you, he too was devastated when you had been dusted, Hulk even more so.

"You mustn't mention my wife in my presence, Banner, it is unbecoming of you."

"Maybe what you need is to be reminded of her," Rocket intruded. "Doesn't it mean anything to you? Doesn't it mean something that your wife could be resurrected? You could have her back!"

"You're afraid—" Bruce concluded, but was quickly kicked aside.

"Afraid? Why would I be afraid?" Thor challenged. "I was the one that killed Thanos, I have nothing to fear."

"You're afraid of her seeing you like this." Bruce finished—Thor fell silent. "You're afraid of what she'll think, that she'll be dissappointed in you. You're not the only one that lost her that day, Thor. Y/N—"

"Don't say her name."

"—She was important to all of us—Steve, Tony, Nat, me. We need her back just as bad as you do."

It took a while for Thor to come to terms with it—that he couldn't be afraid of you, because you weren't that kind of woman. He would fix himself up—return himself to the man he once was and put pride in your name and the two of you would rebuild the Asgardian kingdom together.

That is, of course, if bringing you back was even possible.

He'd dreamt of you that night—bare naked, squirming underneath him as your baby soft skin glowed golden under the dim lighting. Your lips were swollen and pouted, eyes struggling to hold open as they fluttered shut in pleasure. Thor always loved you like this, weak and submissive beneath him. And he'd awoken in sweat, looking around his bedroom for any sight of you being there that night, because that dream had been so real.

He'd broken down in a mess of tears after realizing you were still gone with only a slight likelihood of you returning.

Finally, the team had gathered every last stone and returned back to their original time. Tony had constructed a metal glove that would work as Thanos' had.

"I'll do it," Thor spoke almost immediately—he had to make sure that of among all people, as selfish as it was, that you returned before anyone else had.

"No offense, Thor, but—" Steve ushered toward the nearly empty bottle of beer lingering in Thor's finers. "—I'm not sure you should."

It had been Bruce—who, at the moment, was a strange hybrid-being mixed between his human self and Hulk.

Thor was anxious, what if it did work? What if everyone was brought back, but somehow you were left as nothing but dust in the wind? Or what if you came back too and no longer loved him the way you had before—or was dissapointed in his ungodly appearance after being gone for the last five or so years.

These thoughts quickly left his mind when Thanos opened several unworldly portals, summoning his army of alien invaders from deep within the galaxy. Wizards and monsters alike standing behind Thanos and ready to officially destroy the Avengers, and then their entire universe.

They were ultimately screwed—with only a small handful of them to defend their planet against an entire army. They'd never get out of this alive, not ik their own.

Bruce had made the snap—so where was everybody? Had it all just been some dream they had hoped would come true? Had they somehow failed?

I'm sorry, Y/N, Thor's heart ached, his face in the ground as hot tears trailed his cheeks.

He'd failed you when you had been dusted, failed you when he had fallen into a horrid drinking habit and to hold together the remainder of your kingdom, and now he was going to fail you once more. He hadn't been able to bring you back—and he was too weak to protect the planet of Midguard; a planet you had adored with everything you had. A planet of smaller beings that you thought to be interesting, beautiful, even.

I'm sorry I didn't turn out as good a man as you had hoped I would.

"What are you doing on the ground, my love?"

Thor turned, snapping his head in a direction behind him.

A circle of golden sparks, man-sized and creating a pathway was sizzling with heat. It framed a bright, white light—too bright for such a dark setting. He recognized this to be Stephen Strange's foreign magic—but, hadn't Tony announced his dusting all those years ago?

From the light, a figure appeared—features shadowed due to the bright light shining in her background. But Thor could make out the curves he spent so long studying, memorizing, and making love to. He knew that voice better than he knew himself—for he had heard it so many times.

It was you—in a war dress that an Asgardian goddess would wear for protection in battle, whether she was fighting or not. Silver armor protected your chest and waist, expensive Asgardian fabric shaded the same red he wore drifted over your legs. Of course, there was a high slit on the right, exposing the sweet, soft skin he once caressed on a nightly basis.

Your hair was pulled back into a tight braid, daggers sheathed at your sides as you approached your husband. To him, it felt as if it'd been hundreds of years, but for you, barely ten seconds. It was like a power nap for you—time didn't effect you whatsoever when you were simply dust.

"Y/N?" Thor breathed, slowly lifting himself from the rummaged ground.

A wide smile merged onto your face at the sight of your husband, running into his arms and pressing a passionate kiss to his lips. Joy sprouting in both your chests, tears of both sadness and relief spilling down your faces as you embraced one another so tightly it hurt.

"You've changed, my love," you whispered against his lips, and you meant it. His body was softer, now—larger. He smelled terribly like alcohol and his hair was wildly unkempt. He was a mess, but you couldn't have blamed him.

Thor didn't know how to respond to your statement—were you disgusted?

"These last few years could not have been so terrible?"

Thor smiled, still pained, tears still rolling down his face. "These last few years without you were torture."

His hands continuously roamed your body—feeling your baby soft skin, absorbing the warmth that radiated even through the metal on your waist. His thumb gently ran over your bottom lip, the other hand subtly slipping through the slit of your dress and gripping your thigh.

The two of you were never opposed to PDA, after all. Not when it came to each other.

You pressed your lips to his once again, "when we are done here—I would like to make love."

It was Thor's turn to smile widely, a chuckle vibrating in his chest beneath his armor.

"As you wish, my queen."

"Avengers," Steve Rogers called from the front of the army of revived heroes—Wakandan soldiers, Guardians of the Galaxy, Valkrie woman and Avengers who had fallen in their last battle against Thanos. They all stood proudly, faces inked with anger and dedication to finally rid the universe of the army of aliens.

You made eye contact with the Wakandan woman you had attempted to save when the battle had first raged in Wakanda; both sending each other a nod.

You and Thor turned, weapons at the ready, eyes lingering on one another for a second longer before narrowing them at the enemy. You were ready—more ready than you would ever be to take back what you had lost in the fire.

You awaited Roger's signal, a raging fire burning in your gut. You were ready.

"Assemble."

[thewildheroine]

Fly Away |Thirty|

Warnings: Abuse mentions, language

Word Count: 3K

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: Yo okay so tumblr fuckignjlbshfalbdh deleted my shit before I even got the chance to post, so here’s my second go at it :(((((((( Sorry that it’s so brief but I’m still a little rusty. I hope you guys enjoy and if you like it please reblog loves!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

|Masterlist|

|Part Twenty-Eight|  |Part Twenty-Nine|  |Part Thirty-One|

“How can I survive this without my magic, Heather?” I wonder, already sensing that the vortex is trying to suck me up again. We’ve been walking for a long time, though I have no idea how long. Time is non-existent here and the miles we walk become the ones in front of us. Everything here is simply infinite. Well... as simple as infinity can get.

Heather smiles softly, as always, knowing something I don’t. “It’s your magic, Y/N.”

“No, it’s not,” I whisper, despair settling in like a cruel disease. “I gave it to Dormammu. I’m not a sorceress anymore. I’m not the Bluebird.”

“Glinda…” Heather murmurs sweetly, using the ancient nickname before grabbing my hand and holding against her chest. “Your magic is your soul, and as long as you’re alive your soul will want to come home.” She turns away from me, looking into the white abyss. I follow her eyes and immediately shrink backward. A swirling, opalescent hurricane has opened up overhead. Fearing the worst, I look at my free hand. My suspicions are confirmed where I see my fingers fading into dust before being sucked into the vortex.

“Heather-” I have to measure the questions I could ask in a split second. “What’s happening?” I finally murmur in a desperate voice.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” she asserts. “What does is that you escape. You can only do it with magic.”

“Which I don’t have,” I remind her, growing slightly impatient. Suddenly a look spreads over her face. The look. The look she’d give me everything time she came up with a horrible idea, and I already know what her idea is. “No,” I growl, indignant even when I’m running out of time. “There is no way I’m doing that Heather.”

“Why not?” I roll my eyes and spare the hurricane another frightened glace.

“Because he won’t just give up his magic to me, and I obviously can’t take it.” I hold up my hands frustratedly, showing her that I don’t have the magic to pull my father’s away from him. “I have nothing, and it wouldn’t even be enough to get me out of the hell hole he’s going to throw me in!” I feel guilty for being angry towards Heather after so many years of not seeing her- of believing she was dead. After everything though, after being tortured and haunted and taken advantage of it’s so easy to be angry. Even with Heather.

Despite my outburst, her eyes remain patient though. Her loving purple eyes. “Then fight,” she whispers, and I finally catch a glimpse of something unusual in her eyes. Guilt. Like she’s in on some sort of universal secret I don’t know about. I open my mouth to say something back, but instead, I’m only left with her voice murmuring ideas straight to my mind.

Take in your surroundings.

When I open my eyes tears that I hadn’t even known existed are streaming down my cheeks. I’m on a bed. One softer than even the one at the base. The springs don’t ache below me as I draw in a deep, patient breath. Everything here is white. There’s no detail, just absence. The only thing with color is the different picture frames sitting on the desk and bookshelves. Ones I can’t remember. Ones that are absolutely and entirely fake.

Things are going to be warped.

I stand up from the sofa bed and step towards a bookshelf. On it is a beautifully framed photo. The photo itself is from what seems to be three years ago based on the appearance of my face. I look like I’m thirteen in it. Old enough to trick people into letting me work. To my right is my father, smile glowing on his face in a way I have never seen before, and to my left is a beautiful woman. She has to be just about my height now, and her long, y/h//c hair matches my own. My mom.

It will be based on your father’s mind and everything he’s created

Across the room, I see the glimmer of a mirror. Turning around slowly, I begin to approach the corner in which it stands ominously, ready to show me something just as frightening as this place. As soon as I see myself in the mirror I take a step back. I don’t recognize the girl I just saw. She is unscathed with soft, beautiful skin and hair that seems to gleam in the dim lighting of this room. She is lovely. The image of an angel. There are no ugly scars that mark up her body. Again, I begin walking towards the mirror, this time keeping my eyes locked onto myself. The only similarity I see between the two of us is our eyes, which both hold the same fear.

He will have made everything to be perfect.

I close my eyes and concentrate on Heather’s voice.

Ruin his perfection.

I open my eyes and look towards the exit.

Destroy it.

Gulping, I stumble to the doorway.

Sow chaos into his order.

Staring at the door frame I swear I can see a green haze peeking through. Just like the apartment.

Ravage against everything that place is.

I brace myself once more and place my hand on the cold, bronze knob.

Fight, Y/N.

My hand quakes against the metal. In fact, my whole body does and no matter how hard I will it, it won’t stop.

Fight for me.

I close my eyes and tighten my grip on the handle, trying to push away my fear

Fight for those who raised you.

I suck in a big breath, praying that the extra oxygen may help to slow my racing, aching heart.

Fight for Peter.

I listen closely as the door clicks. My entire body shudders as I open my eyes to stare through the small crack I’ve just created. Through it drifts in the smell of cinnamon, and coffee, and, if I’m not mistaken, chocolate chip cookies.

Most importantly Y/N…

Realizing the air I’ve trapped in my lungs I swing the door open and straighten myself. I clench my free fist and glare at the man and woman who are sitting silently at the table opposite to me.

Fight for yourself…

Everything, every atom in the room, stops as both my parents, the man who I hate and the woman I have never known look towards me, gaping out of absolute bewilderment. My grip on the door handle tightens so much I’m afraid that I may just break it. Knowing it is more likely that I will hurt myself I drop the hand to my side.

Because there is no one in there who can do it for you.

“Y/N,” my father, murmurs in an uncharacteristically soft voice. It takes everything inside of me not to throw myself at him and rip the man to shreds with my bare hands. Instead, I just let my eyes snap to him, fire filling them. “Come sit with us.” He reaches across the table and grabs the woman's hand who visibly shrinks under his touch. My eyes meet her’s suddenly, and I feel my heart quench. I see everything I am in her. Scared eyes. Oh god, we’re both so scared.

“I made cinnamon rolls,” she nods at me, and I immediately understand that she isn’t telling me, but warning me. I gulp and take another glance at my father. Although his expression is still soft I can see the slight strain in his expression.

My fingers unwrap themselves so they are no longer clenched and I try to force some sort of pleasantness into my expression. Biting my lip, I make my way towards the table. My mother has already made me a plate and wordlessly she slides it towards me as I take a seat.

“Thank you,” I mumble my first words in this warped place. When I look up she smiles at me softly and I find myself curious about what exactly she’s thinking of. I wonder if she’s imagining a different lifetime. One where my father and husband wasn’t so cruel. One where she was allowed the chance to raise me throughout my childhood. One where I could learn magic on my own terms. One where I was loved day in and day out. One where she taught me how to be strong and how to fight. One where she helped pick out homecoming dresses and threatened the boys who’d come by the house.

“Of course Y/N,” my mom whispers back. Her voice is not sweet. It is hoarse from a hundred battle cries. She has scars over the entire extent of her body. Ones on her collar bones that have turned a pale shade of their original tone. There are puffy brands that seem to be the result of brands. On her arm, the only part of her that doesn’t seem to be marked by pain, is the mark of the Valkrie. She follows my eyes to the dark brown tattoo and smiles. There’s something reminiscent in her eyes. Like somehow, serving Asgardian royalty was a simpler time. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

Wordlessly, I cut through my cinnamon roll, keeping my eyes down. Both of their eyes are on me. I can feel them.

Even as my father reaches his other hand across the table to cover mine I keep my eyes on my food. She had to have had a reason for why she interfered before I let my anger get the best of me. When his ice-cold hand lands on mine I flinch. Goosebumps appear on my forearms and I shiver as quietly as I can manage.

“Now Icarus,” I feel the need to choke on the nickname. No one has called me that in six years. The last time I heard it was the day before my tenth birthday. “I know this is a big change, but I just want you to know the rules.” I furrow my brows and look up at him through a thin curtain of hair.

“Rules?” I question. My voice is alarmingly vulnerable.

“Of course.” My father’s grip on my hand tightens suddenly, and I feel my knuckles crack. “All you need to do is listen to me.” Unable to stop myself, I scoff and look back down at my cinnamon roll.

“It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Excuse me?”

“Y/N,” my mother pleads from her spot on the table. Suddenly, I begin wondering how many of those scars really happened in battle.

“You take away my magic, my choice,” I throw my fork down on the plate, “my family.” All of the sudden my father yanks me towards him. My ribcage hits the edge of the table and I wince out loud, pain bursting through my chest. The second I look up I’m faced with my father, whose eyes are filled with molten lava. I don’t shrink under his gaze though. Something about my mother has given me back my iron heart so that I can face him with my head held high.

“We are your family, Y/N,” he retorts, his voice stern. I scowl and shake my head side to side.

“To me,” I rip away from his grasp, “you are the man who destroyed my childhood, and she is just the women I’ve met in my dreams. You are not my family, and you cannot control me.”

Everyone is silent as though we’re waiting to see if I back down. I’m even waiting for my resolve to falter. It doesn’t though. My eyes stay cold, indifferent to the man in front of me, and after so many years of his torture and abuse and manipulations, I see all the power in his eyes fade away. He has nothing left to hurt me, and therefore he has lost control.

Finally, he drops his eyes and reaches to grab his napkin. I watch attentively as he rubs the white cloth against the corners of his mouth, his eyes still cast down. My mother’s fear rolls off her shoulders and towards me, but I do not look away. When my father looks up again he’s angry, yet he doesn’t know where to put it all.

Abruptly, he stands from the table, the legs of his chair screeching against the marble floors. I watch as he numbly tosses the napkin onto his plate. My mother, on the other hand, bows her head and goes back to picking at her food. Once he can manage to look me in my eyes my father glares down at me, raising his finger accusingly.

“I want this place cleaned up by the time I get back for dinner.” My expression remains blank as my father stalks over to a hallway that I assume leads to an exit. Both my mom and I watch as he disappears. Once he’s gone her eyes are on the side of my head again. I swallow and tear off a piece of my roll.

I’ve walked throughout the entire house five times over, but I still can’t get used to it. As a child, it was everything I hoped for. It’s all so pure. Everything is so perfect. Even the air. Breathing it in I find that it smells like the ocean. There are windows covering an entire wall, and they all look out on an infinite sea of clouds. Everything is white. The floors are white marble, the ceilings are white arches. It’s like this place has been waiting for my arrival so that I may color it myself.

I think this is everything I wanted. When I was young at least. I wanted a place that felt pure, a place where I felt pure, but now I want nothing more than to be sitting at the kitchen island, basking in the rays of the real sun, which I have taken for granted so much, as Peter traces the scars covering my hands. The only imperfections in this entire place are the ones that cover my mother. I don’t even have imperfections anymore. He’s taken those away as well.

“It’s beautiful out there,” she remarks behind me, as though just the thought of my mom summoned her. “It reminds me of Asgard,” my mom continues under her breath as she slowly approaches the windows. “I loved it there, you know? It was always so beautiful.” I turn towards her, curiosity getting the best of me.

“Then why did you come to Earth,” I question. My mother smiles, remembering.

“I suppose it was my disregard for authority that prompted them to exile me.” She places a scarred hand against the glass. The clouds seemingly shift beneath her gaze, and I’m stunned to see them part, revealing the true, pearly ocean beneath.

“Glad to know where I got it from,” I scoff, trying my hardest to hide my amazement. Glad to know where I got everything from.

“I know I’m not your mother, Y/N,” she informs all of the sudden, and I find myself at an immediate loss for words. “I have no right to be. I wasn’t there for any of it. Your childhood.”

“You didn’t have a choice,” I remind her.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you aren’t my daughter, nor are you your father’s.” She beams at the beautiful sky, shining its perfection down on us. “I believe someone else deserves that honor far more than us.” I find myself gawking at the women before me, finding something about her so very unbelievable. I don’t understand how I can see so much of myself in her, and how she can see just as much of herself in me, and yet she understands that I can’t think of her as my… mom. I know she is. I know she and I share blood, but she isn’t my mom, and it is so incredibly amazing to me that she knows that.

“How’d you end up with that monster?” I laugh quietly. She’s so good and kind and the fact that she managed to end up with my father is unfathomable.

“He wasn’t always a monster. Before Dormammu found him, he was good, Y/N. He was a man who could’ve loved you properly.” Tears rim her eyes as she remembers a man who I do not know. “He called you Icarus before you were born, too.”

“Well, it’s not really endearing, huh?” I shake my head and look out at the endless sky. “He told me that story to remind me that I am not permitted to fly away. That’s how he phrased it you know. Fly away. Every damn time. He always said it like I was a goddamn broken bird that couldn’t escape.” I wish that I could take hold of my magic at this moment, but it is gone. It can’t rumble in my fingertips anymore.

“That wasn’t the reason he called you Icarus before you were born,” she informs confidently. “In Asgard, we had our own version of the story.” The woman looks to me, our eyes mirroring each other. “An intelligent father created wax wings so that he and his son may escape a cruel king, but the child, Icarus, flew too close to the sun. I assume you know what happens next.”

“Of course,” I mumble. “He falls to the ocean and drowns. His father drags him out and curses his own genius. I’ve heard it a thousand times.”

“Icarus didn’t drown.” My mom looks at me closely. “She fell to the waves and she sunk, and sunk, and sunk, but she never hit the ocean floor. Instead, she was reborn on the other side with wings made of sunlight.” Suddenly, she grabs onto both of my shoulders and turns me towards her. There is an intensity in her eyes that I have yet to know from her. “It’s time for you to fly away, Y/N, and I know how.”

A/N: I just want to say thank you to all those who welcomed me back after my impromptu hiatus. I love you all so much and to have had your support for nearly a year now is incredible!

If you would like to be tagged shoot me a message in my inbox or comment below. Please reblog if you guys enjoyed to let others know about the story.❤️❤️❤️❤️

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