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aquaquadrant · 4 months

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"bravo is so entitled for assuming that tangos life would be his" "bravo is so annoying for barging in there and ruining everything" SHUT UP!!! hate when people hate on bravo. like put yourself in his shoes for a minute. he just went into a portal thinking he was joining this server of absolute legends. and then he was in, quite literally, hell. he probably didn't even get to have that one last look at the sun, he didn't even appreciate what he had, before it was all gone. do you know how crazy that would make you? do you have any idea how absolutely insane you could go? and, mind you, he has no idea who tango is or what conditions he was living in. he just knows they swapped places. like it is no surprise that he gets to double life and guesses that that life was supposed to be his, that soulmate was supposed to be his, those friends were supposed to be his — because he has no other information???!!!! and all he sees is this guy who looks like him but /wrong/ and he's living the life that he, for all intents and purposes, should have had. would you not be furious? really, would you not be furious?

woah there pardner, that’s a lot of heat to bring to the person who created bravo. i’m not sure if this is directed at me, or the anon from that last ask i answered, or any of the many readers who’ve been leaving comments along those lines in the tags/reblogs of the fic? and maybe i’m just misreading the tone here and ur just asking rhetorically, but uh, here’s the thing.

i do know how insane those circumstances could make someone, cuz i wrote it. of course bravo has the right to be furious for what happened to him. it’s a horrible, tragic thing. it was never supposed to be unreasonable that he made the choices he did, especially with atlas’s deliberate manipulation muddying the waters. and as far as bravo knew for those latter five years in hels, tango was directly responsible for all of it. that’s more than enough of a basis to build a grudge. maybe even enough of a grudge to overlook the torture that tango had been put thru, after he discovered the old farm (remember, he was under no false pretenses that tango would be returned back to the farm. atlas made that very clear).

that is, up until they actually meet. until bravo finds out, 100% for certain, that tango never intentionally stranded him in hels, never knowingly swapped their lives. it was- as far as they know- a random glitch of fate. now, tango did have his suspicions after learning about helsknight and chose not to come forward, so in that regard he cost bravo a few extra years in hels that could’ve been avoided otherwise. so in that, bravo’s anger is absolutely justified.

but the thing is, tango is sorry for it. he admits his mistake and apologizes. and it’s not that bravo doesn’t believe him in that moment- he just doesn’t care. he’s still completely fine with sentencing tango back to that endless lifetime of suffering, as ‘payback’ for ‘stealing his life.’ all while still claiming to be ‘better’ than tango despite choosing not to show forgiveness and mercy.

that’s where the limit is for many readers. that moment is what prompted a lot of those “how dare bravo” reactions. not to mention that a lot of bravo’s perceptions of the situation are deeply embedded in bigotry: he’s the ‘better’ fit for hermitcraft and ‘better’ partner for jimmy bc he’s an overworlder and not a mob hybrid. he deserves ‘better’ than being stuck in hels- as if none of the other hels residents deserve better simply bc they were born there. in bravo’s eyes, bc tango is a hels and a mob hybrid, he is inherently an evil monster, even though bravo’s witnessed true humanity from him and has chosen not to show the same. it’s bigotry and a superiority complex and hypocrisy all wrapped up in one, poisoning what would’ve otherwise been a fairly reasonable and justified (if a bit clouded by anger) reaction to his circumstances.

so i think that’s where the thoughts of entitlement or annoyance or frustration with bravo’s character stem from- if i’ve been interpreting the comments accurately, that is. and that’s more or less what my intention was with his character in the first place.

#hels to pay au #HTP ask #again i know maybe this was just a very passionate analysis #but the feelings of ‘hate’ (which i use lightly cuz i haven’t seen anything that strikes me as genuine hateful commentary!#are totally valid. the same way it’s valid for u to have more sympathy for bravo #so pls no telling ppl to shut up about their opinions :(#even if it was not meant seriously #cuz i love the wide spectrum of reactions i get- it’s a complex story w complex characters #and that’s gonna resonate w different ppl in a lot of different ways

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lilliths-httyd-blog · 2 years

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Hi I have an odd question I’ve recently decided to get back into my old personal Viggo lives comic: “Beyond the Horizon” after seeing/reading other’s rtte art, theories, fics, and head canons on it (tbh your VLAU fic was definitely the kicker that made me want to get back into my comic) but I don’t want to seem like I’m copying or stealing ideas so I was wondering if you had any alternate names for Viggo’s Skrill (also some writing tips would be very helpful since I’m very rusty ;-;)

i mean

this is how i named viggo's skrill to begin with. just a random fucking chapter of a fic i started in early 2022 and abandoned until recently. i justified my choice of name because this bitch from black butler is also called beast and i think she's hot

in VLAU that story viggo referenced liking as a child about the boy with the magic eye was a reference to black butler i shit you not. i don't even like black butler anymore i haven't watched it in years and don't plan on watching it again any time soon.

i find using the Wings of Fire format of names really helps when naming dragons. lets look at the character names in WoF: Clay, Sunny, Starflight, Tsunami, Glory, Moonwatcher, Kinkajou, Deathbringer, Winter, Peril, Quibli and Turtle are some of the significant ones. go for something weather/sky/space themed for a skrill. just like that. combine weirder shit for the viking feel like hookfang or stormfly. but then you've also got like skullcrusher and cloudjumper so it's good. and then just words like barf, belch, toothless and grump so that works. steal the name Thunder from NR out of spite.

you can also search for old norse words that we're aware of and just find one that sounds like a name with a nice meaning if you want to be fancy and preppy.

another way i like to do it is steal species names from the httyd books like i'll just open up my copy of the incomplete book of dragons until i find something nice like... stickyworm? no... vorpent? no... toxic nightshade... NIGHTSHADE that would be a good name for a skrill you can use that if you want. doomfang seems like more of a dagur name than a viggo name but thats still a bangin skrill name.

and uhhh writing tips uhhhhh. i mean i don't got nothing tbh. be as self indulgent as you want. not everything has to live up to the standards of Scholars Mate and Choosing to Forget not everything has to be that good. my VLAU is genuinely just 17+(?) chapters of fluff and angst and vigcup being adorable and its just me projecting a bunch of my stupid little OOC headcanons onto my stupid little adhd blorbos. my other fics were either me being angsty, me listening a little too much to the httyd soundtrack, me just fucking daydreaming about random shit, or me going HAHAHAHAHAHA LETS MAKE VIGGO'S LIFE A LIVING HEL. i find inspiration from the most random shit. i took a bath once and when i hopped in my cold little toes burned like fire in the hot water and then i tried this coconut shampoo and now i have an entire WIP based on that one experience. there's no fancy thought or writing process behind it there's no "first drafts" (probably cuz i edit as i go lmao) there's no immaculate planning every little detail of the fic. it's just little magpie me going "oh shiny oh shiny oh shiny oh shiny" and then making a mosaic out of all the shitty pieces of glass i've found and somehow a couple people find the mosaic pretty so i am proud because i worked hard on it. and lemme tell you, writing self indulgent fanfiction where im not trying to please anyone except myself is so much fun like i've literally written about viggo being the twin's cousin and i literally made viggo a soft poetry boi and its just fun. i know some people aren't into that or aren't interested and thats fine they don t have to read it. write for yourself you don't even have to be good at it just do it who cares. thats the best advice i can give. just do whatever the fuck you fucking want

#feel free to use nightshade lol #answered asks #race to the edge #the skrill #viggo's skrill #viggo grimborn #viggo lives au

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onceklaudiaspiechowicz · 4 years

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Guardians of The Underworld

Cerberus

“Cerberus – also known as the “hound of Hades” – was the multi-headed dog who guarded the gates of the Underworld, preventing the dead from leaving, and making sure that those who entered never left. A child of Typhon and Echidna, he was part of a monstrous family, which included Orthus, the Lernaean Hydra, and the Chimaera as well. Only on three occasions Cerberus was tricked by visitors of Hades: Heracles did it with his strength, Orpheus with his music, and the Sybil of Cumae with a honey-cake.”

“Descriptions of Cerberus vary, including the number of his heads. Cerberus was usually three-headed, though not always. Cerberus had several multi-headed relatives. His father was the multi snake-headed Typhon, and Cerberus was the brother of three other multi-headed monsters, the multi-snake-headed Lernaean Hydra; Orthrus, the two-headed dog who guarded the Cattle of Geryon; and the Chimera, who had three heads: that of a lion, a goat, and a snake. And, like these close relatives, Cerberus was, with only the rare iconographic exception, multi-headed.”

Zmey

“A Zmei Gorynich or zmey and byliny (Russian epic poetry), is a dragon or serpent, or sometimes a human-like character with dragon-like traits.

“The word zmei in Russian is the masculine forms of zmeya, a feminine noun, meaning "snake".”

“The dragon in Russian folk fiction may be female, in which case she is called zmeya. The tendency is for the prose folktale versions to have male dragons, and the byliny poetry to have the females. This will affect the behavior of the dragons. For instance, only the male dragons will capture or captivate a princess or a maiden as a love interest.”

“The zmei is often depicted with multiple heads, and the number of heads may be 3, 6, 9, or 12. A three-, six-, nine-, and twelve-headed dragon are defeated on successive nights by the hero of the tale "Ivan the Peasant's Son and the Little Man the Size of a Finger". The twelve-headed one was hardest to kill, and although the hero beheaded it nearly completely, the last head had to be taken by six men provided to Ivan by the Tsar.”

“A Slavic dragon is any dragon in Slavic mythology, including the Russian zmei, known in Ukraine as zmiy, and its counterparts in other Slavic cultures: the Bulgarian zmei, the Slovak drak and šarkan, Czech drak, Polish żmij, the Serbian and Croatian zmaj, the Macedonian zmey. The Romanian zmeu is also a Slavic dragon, but a non-cognate etymology has been proposed.

A zmei may be beast-like or human-like, sometimes wooing women, but often plays the role of chief antagonist in Russian literature. In the Balkans, the zmei type is overall regarded as benevolent, as opposed to malevolent dragons known variously as lamia, ala or hala, or aždaja.

The Polish smok (e.g. Wawel Dragon of Kraków) or the Ukrainian or Belarusian smok, can also be included. In some Slavic traditions smok is an ordinary snake which may turn into a dragon with age.

Some of the common motifs concerning Slavic dragons include their identification as masters of weather or water source; that they start life as snakes; and that both the male and female can be romantically involved with humans.”

Garmr

“In Norse mythology, Garmr or Garm (Old Norse "rag”) is a wolf or dog associated with both Hel and Ragnarök, and described as a blood-stained guardian of Hel's gate.”

“In Norse Mythology, Garm is a giant wolf, or the “greatest of dogs” in the eddic poem Grimsnisal. He makes his most dramatic appearance in the gods’ end of the world, Ragnarok, where he is left tied up and howling. Snorri Sturlson pits him against the god Tyr in the great battle.

Mythology being what it is, Garm, Hel’s hound (as in Loki’s daughter Hel), and Fenrir all get a bit mixed up at times depending on whose version of the stories you read. This, of course, totally justifies my reasoning to use “Garm” as the name of my wolf shapeshifter guardians in the Nine World. (I wrote that last sentence with my tongue firmly in my cheek… ) Fenrir, however, is a lot better defined in Norse myth and thus kept his identity in my books.”

To be honest when I only started looking into this Knew both Greek and Norse mythologies had guard dogs for the underworld and I thought Zmey the dragon stood out a lot but as soon as I searched up Zmey and had a look at pictures and how he’s depicted I realised he had three heads just like Cerberus. I found this overlap really interesting as now two mythologies had guardians with 3 heads and it really seems like a pattern. Now I feel that Cerberus is the perfect mix of the two other mythologies turning the wold and three headed dragon into a three headed dog.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garmr

http://www.loridevoti.com/fenrir-garm-wolves-norse-myth/?doing_wp_cron=1600937334.8865990638732910156250

https://www.greekmythology.com/Myths/Creatures/Cerberus/cerberus.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cerberus

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zmei_(Russian)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slavic_dragon

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enochianspells · 4 years

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Five years, that’s all we’ve got - Chapter IV

TW: Depression and a suicide attempt are discussed/mentioned, so please please skip this chapter if you think it might upset you. Feel free to message me if you want a summary of what happens. Hope you enjoy!

—

Peter was fairly certain of what a suicidal person looked like. He remembered his paternal grandmother Adeline, a frail old woman who used to sit in her armchair all the time, with the only exception of a daily walk by the river, from which one day she never returned. She drowned herself in the cold winter waters, that’s what his father had told Peter, the millionth time he asked what had happened to her. A weak mind, those, instead, had been the only words his mother had used to justify Adeline’s scandalous death. Peter had thought that they should have seen it coming, the poor woman didn’t have any friends and had never smiled once in the eleven years Peter had spent visiting her. Remus, however, was another story. Yes, he could be quiet and there were times in which he seemed drained, but Peter had always blamed it on the fact that he was an introvert and anyway it wasn’t uncommon to feel drained after months spent enduring James and Sirius’ absurd ideas. Remus and Adeline similarities, in Peter’s eyes, ended there. So how could someone as kind, friendly and bright as Remus long for the same tragic destiny as a lonely widow? Peter didn’t have the answer for that and, despite Sirius’ intricate theories, neither did his friends.

After a week of silence regarding the topic, Peter was starting to grow impatient. All the unanswered and unasked questions were hanging in the air creating a tense environment that was far from what Peter had expected for his first year as a senior. So during lunch time, when the four of them were sitting on the grass outside, enjoying the last days of sun, Peter decided that, for once, it was his moment to attempt to make things right between them.

“Alright, so – there’s one thing we should talk about, I guess,” and as Peter said that, Remus was the only one who had stopped looking at his textbook and was staring at him.

“What is it Peter?” asked James, paying him little to no attention.

“Come on we’ve been talking about it all summer!”

Sirius, who had been lazily browsing a Latin book for the previous fifteen minutes, suddenly threw an accusatory glance at Peter with his cold grey eyes.

Peter hesitated, expecting James to say something witty and sympathetic as he used to do whenever they were about to have a difficult conversation, but he said nothing, keeping his eyes fixed on the grass.

Peter swallowed his cowardice and said: “Remus, – we were all very sorry to hear about what happened to you, but as you probably know, your mother didn’t allow us to see you, so we’ve never really had any answer,”

“Peter.” Sirius said, his voice as sharp as a glass shard.

“No, it’s fine. What is it that you wanted to know?” asked Remus with a small smile on his lips.

“Well, although I consider myself the most familiar with it, given that my grandma killed herself, I still struggled to understand why you did it, I mean, you seemed just fine and then we got your mother’s letter and it was really unexpected.”

Remus sighed, no sign of that smile left, but as soon as he opened his mouth to answer, Sirius interrupted once more: “That’s not fair, you know that right?”

Peter had rarely seen Sirius look this enraged and mortified at the same time.

“I’ve got to go.” said Sirius, collecting his things from the ground and standing up, seconds before he walked away.

As Remus stood up as well immediately after Sirius, he looked confused, but, Peter had to admit, also relieved.

“Excuse me.” He told James, who nodded, as if Peter hadn’t even been there, and then followed Sirius.

Peter felt his heart sinking in his chest, angry at himself for failing so miserably after days spent thinking about what to say, but also at James and Sirius, who had done absolutely nothing to help him.

Remus almost had to run to catch up with Sirius, who was walking towards the main building with his head down.

“Sirius, wait! – at the sound of Remus’ voice, Sirius stopped and slowly turned around, his cheekbones slightly rosy – Are you okay?”

His expression softened at the question, “Yes, of course I’m okay, Remus. But what that little wanker was doing was just straight up wrong.”

“I don’t know, I expected this conversation to come up at any moment. Peter is no Shakespeare, but I don’t blame you for being a bit lost.”

“He’s right, you know, we have been talking about it all summer and, for this specific reason, I assumed Peter had understood how much we cared about the subject and about asking you the right questions. But what does he do? He asks why, of all questions.”

Remus’s heart sped up, in part out of fear and in part because that was just the sort of thing that would happen to him whenever he was in Sirius’ presence.

“Isn’t it what you were getting at anyway? He was just particularly straightforward.”

“No, it’s not! – Sirius looked hurt by what Remus had said – I wanted to hear your version of the events, to know how you were doing and if they’ve been treating you right. Of course, we’d like to understand some more of all the things we didn’t notice, but Peter is just nosey and I couldn’t stand it.”

It took a while for Remus to manage to create a sentence and say it aloud.

“From which one would you like me to begin?” His voice was gentle, but there was a shade of weariness he hadn’t been able to get rid of.

Sirius sat down against one of the stone arches that surrounded the gardens.

“From the beginning, if it’s okay.”

And it was okay, Remus thought, it had to be. During the previous two months he had been living under a glass case that shielded him from the outside world, but which also prevented him from seeing anything other than his own illness. Then September came and he was back at school, amongst his best friends, and, for a moment, that summer looked just like a bad dream he would eventually forget of.But now Sirius Black was sitting in front of him and he was painfully aware that in order to actually turn it into nothing more than a nightmare, he had to be honest with those he loved.

“It has never been easy to me, I’ve always felt exhausted, – I’m sorry because I told you already and it must be boring to hear it again, but the thing is: I didn’t understand where that feeling was coming from, until I realised that during these years I’ve been trying extremely hard to relax and enjoy my adolescence as you did, but in my miserable attempt to be normal I ended up amplifying my anxieties instead. Once I’d become aware of that I couldn’t think about anything other than my unhappiness. It was illogical and childish, but I wasn’t new to it, I had learned to know my sadness by heart. Yet there was something different this time: I could see how everything about my life was supposed to make me happy, but I was trapped, forever carrying a weight on my chest and the idea that things could only get worse was driving me mad, so –”

Remus stopped, still struggling to pronounce those simple words out loud.

“I’m sorry if my mother gave you the impression that you had anything to do with what happened, but you really don’t. I didn’t leave a message, I couldn’t think of anything suitable, so I said nothing. This of course left her to her own conclusions, which unfortunately saw you at the root of my decision, for whatever reason she could make herself believe.”

Sirius had been carefully listening to everything Remus had to say.

“I’d say it was more your absence than your presence which made me restless and incapable of shifting my mind from the thought of dying. So after only a week I had spent at home, I couldn’t live with myself any longer.”

It was hard, diving once more into the madness of those days and exposing the wildest and most wretched sides of his mind to Sirius.

“I’d always thought myself incapable of something like that, because it would have hurt my family too much and because it required a lot of courage which I was sure to be lacking. Yet suddenly all the other voices in my head were silenced by one I wasn’t familiar with, strong and imperative, and somehow I pulled it through, or at least I tried to.”

Maybe one day Remus would be ready to tell Sirius more about how he had decided to take his own life, but for the moment, the mere thought made him uncomfortable.

“My dad found me when it was almost too late, but they rushed me to the hospital and after a while I woke up. I’ll never forget the way my parents looked at me and how humiliating it felt to be laying on that bed, after everything they’ve done to make me happy, I – he paused to take a breath and compose himself as best as he could – Anyway, the doctors suggested they’d take me to another hospital, but my mum fervently objected, so luckily they allowed me to go back home after four days, provided I had weekly sessions with a psychologist, which was fine, I didn’t mind it.”

Only then Sirius spoke for the first time, his voice almost shaking: “And did they work, those sessions? Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, I mean, I still get bad days sometimes, but it’s good to be around you again and, even when I’m not, I’m not struggling as much as I used to, which is good.”

“I can’t believe we haven’t see each other for two months.”

Remus had never thought about it before, but in the last three years, that was the longest they had spent far away from each other.

“I’m so sorry, Remus. I just feel I should have been there, but literally everyone kept me from running to you.” Sirius added, his features turned to stone and his eyes suddenly shining.

A wave of heat spread on Remus’ cheeks, all the emotions that had piled up over his chest slowly disappearing and leaving room for a newfound sense of lightness.

“I’ve never blamed you for respecting my mother’s wishes, but I have to confess I assumed James or Mrs Potter were behind your silence.” said Remus with a smile which came naturally.

Sirius, to Remus’ relief, seemed to be ready to divert from the questions for a while.

“You have no idea! After we received your mother’s letter, Euphemia had to sit me down at least three times, beseeching me not to do anything stupid. I obeyed only because it was her and not my mum – and, of course, because I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“I missed you too, but I’m also glad you didn’t have to see me in that state, otherwise I’m not so sure you would still want to be my friends.” said Remus, only half joking.

“Listen, Remus, there is absolutely nothing you could do which would make us stop wanting to be friends with you. – Well, except you turned out to be a fascist.” Although Sirius had a grin on his face, in his eyes Remus could detect the distinct firmness which could always reassure him.

“I’m rather sure you won’t have to worry at least about that.”

“It’s nice to know that I can always trust you, comrade Remus.” replied Sirius, leaning forward to stretch an arm around Remus’ shoulder.

“By the way, I want you to promise me something.”

“What is it?” Remus felt his sight go blurry with fear.

“From now on, we share this burden, alright? No more secrets, I don’t care if it’s ugly or rough, I want to help. You have been putting up with all my moods and breakdowns over my family for years, I owe you. Just remember you have nothing to prove me, you can be as real as you want to be, I swear I won’t get scared.”

Remus, with his throat tight, rested his head against Sirius’ shoulder and ultimately whispered: “I promise.”

#five years #tw: depression #marauders au #wolfstar fanfic #wolfstar au #marauders era #harry potter au #harry potter #marauders #wolfstar fic #wolfstar #jily #jily au #marauders fanfic #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans #peter pettigrew

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that-yandere-life · 5 years

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Loki’s Most Glorious Purpose

Anon Idea: So I've had this idea brewing around in my head since that ask about the yandere's s/o aging: since Loki's an expert at magic maybe he could find some sort of spell that would bind his s/o to him, like a sort of soul/heart bond thing that has the added effect of making the s/o's lifespan match his since they're now bound together. Maybe it could even make it so that if one member of the bond dies the other does as well, making his s/o even more dependent on him. It'd be perfect for a yandere. (Part Two of idea) I've just thought of another possibility with a bonding spell, it could also kind of act like a tracker, maybe it could give him the ability to know where his s/o other is at all times through the bond. I honestly feel like there's so many possibilities with the idea for a yandere. And of course you could decide how much of it goes the other way too, or if it's just Loki who could manipulate the bond since he's the one who can wield magic

Loki had been feeling down recently when he caught you looking in the mirror poking at your face thinking you saw wrinkles appearing. While you were perfect to him, he understood what you were secretly fearful of. That was that he was going to stay young and beautiful for near eternity, while you would eventually grow old and leave him in death.

It mattered to him that he would only have a short time with you, not that your appearance would age. So he decided that since he was a magic user he should be able to find some sort of solution to this apparent problem.

Going into the library to do some research in the words of old, he was looking for any way to extend your life. Part of him wanted to ask his mother, but he felt like she wouldn’t approve of him using magic on you. Plus if there was some kind of way to make it happen, he was sure it wouldn’t be an easy or pleasing task.

Pulling book upon book out, there was nothing he could find that would accomplish what he wanted. Thumbing page after page it was only furthering to frustrate him that nothing seemed to exist to keep you young forever. Tossing the most recent tale against the wall he was sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose.

While giving up never crossed his mind, that didn’t mean he was enjoying the process. Sighing he stood up again heading over to the ancient magic section, ones that held the more barbaric types of magic available. The title of one stood out to him, even though it seemed a little out there even to him. “Blood Magic?”He whispered softly to himself in contemplation. Shrugging his shoulders he decided it was at least worth a try to see what it held.

At first it seemed like a lot of crazy mumbo jumbo until he came across a ritual in it titled ‘Bonding Ritual.’ Sitting up fully he gazed down reading the words carefully to see what it entailed. Mumbling softly his eyes moving across the page, a smile growing on his face more and more as he continued.

“This is it, this is what I was looking for!”He exclaimed jumping out of the armchair that had been his home for the past two days during his search. “It will take a little planning but it is definitely doable!”He added taking a piece of parchment out of his pocket writing down the required items to perform it.

The ritual he had discovered would bond your souls together, keeping you alive until he perished. It was a very old ritual, one that had mostly been performed by old world witches to keep their objects of affection tied to them for eternity. Now he had to figure out where he was going to set this up in secret, and whether or not he was going to tell you he was going to do it. Either way he wasn’t going to give you a choice, but he would rather not force it upon you unless he absolutely had to.

Remembering an old storage area he used to go to hide from Thor and read without ridicule he decided to put his plan into motion there. Grabbing the required items in a plain brown satchel he snuck them into the space without getting caught by a single person. Setting up the circle he pulled out the seven candles, five for the elements so the Universe to watch on. Two to symbolize the two souls that were about to be bound.

Then there was a ritualistic knife that had never been used to spill blood previously. Wrapping it up in a velvet cloth he set it aside on a table nearby. Using pure sea salt he outlined the edge of the circle around the candles. It was at this point he realized that you would never agree to this dark magic in a million years. Always trying to get him to be better, but this time it was for your benefit too and he wouldn’t or couldn’t back down.

So as he made you, your bedtime tea he mixed in a potion used to promote sleep, only using a little extra to keep you in deep slumber. Wrapping his arms around you he teleported to the space, the only light coming from the candles burning brightly in the center of it. Laying you down in the middle, making sure that nothing could catch on fire he exhaled sharply. Pulling the book out of his pocket he went over what was to happen next.

Grabbing the blade he inhaled slowly closing his eyes to call upon the gods to bless it. Lightly he cut the end of one of your fingertips, letting the blood flow freely. Then he did the same to his own before holding them together tightly. “Universe, life and mother earth, witness this bond, and allow it to be heard. Blood mixed, magic connected. Never make broken this bond."He chanted as it described.

A bright red aura circled your joined fingers, and then the candles blew out by themselves signifying the success of the ritual. Using his magic he relit them so he didn’t have to leave your side for a moment. Removing his hand from yours he quickly healed both of your wounds so that they didn’t continue to ache the next day. Watching you still asleep peacefully in his arms he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that he didn’t really give you a choice in the matter.

However it was far too late to consider that, and there was nothing he could do to break the bond without dying. Carefully he teleported you back to your shared bedroom tucking you in between the black silk sheets making sure you were comfortable. Then he went back cleaning up all the evidence that the ritual had ever taken place. Now he was wondering how in the Hel he was going to tell you what he did without you absolutely getting enraged.

Sighing he got into bed next to you trying to close his eyes and rest, but sleep was going to evade him for the night he was sure of it. The next morning you woke with a yawn seeing Loki next to you, his hair a tangled mess like he had been pulling repeatedly on it. Confused you snuggled into him, causing him to stir with the feeling of warmth. “Good morning my love.”You breathed out slightly.

“Good morning.”Loki replied his voice husky and a little hoarse from the tiny amount of sleep he had gotten.

“Is everything alright? Are you feeling ill?”You asked with obvious concern sitting up to look him in the eye feeling his forehead.

“I did something last night, but I am afraid it will anger you so. I know you have been worried about leaving me when you grow older… so I took it upon myself to try and solve the problem. I used an old form of magic to bond our souls together. We will eventually age together, and die together.” Loki started to explain seeing the shock on your face but letting him go on. “It’s an ancient ritual comprised of blood magic.”He added cautiously.

“How did you do all of that without me waking up during it?”You asked still not quite understanding fully as you had just woken up yourself.

“Well I used a little sleeping elixir in your tea to put your body at ease.”Loki hesitantly answered afraid of what your reaction was going to be.

“So you drugged me, then performed blood magic on me all without my permission?”You asked to clarify that you were getting what he was saying finally.

“Uh...yes that is what I did. However I did it for us! So we can be together forever, I never want to be without you. I understand that it was probably not the right way to go about it but my heart is in the right place I promise!”Loki tried to justify.

“It wasn’t your choice alone to do that.”You whispered shaking your head trying not to cry. While you appreciate the thought he put into it, it would have been good to at least talk to you about it first. Hopping out of bed you put your bed robe on hastily leaving the room needing some fresh air, and space.

“Please don’t leave! I’m sorry!”Loki called after you fumbling around for his own clothing which had been spread various places around the room in the middle of the night. Upon leaving into the hallway he couldn’t see where you had gone at all. Unfortunately the maids didn’t see which way you went either, leaving him to frantically search high and low for you.

A million thoughts crossed your mind as you continued to run as fast as you could, unable to think of where it was you eventually wanted to end up. Somehow you had made it to the waterfall Loki had brought you to when he proposed to you. Collapsing onto the ground you watched the rushing water crash again and again. Twisting the ring he had given you not that long ago around your left ring finger. Of course you wanted to forever be with him, but you didn’t think it was going to happen like it did.

The two of you weren’t even officially married and now you were technically married by the universe. Somehow it happened when you weren’t even aware of it, and now you were stuck with him for the long haul. No matter if something happened and you no longer wanted to be with each other. Although you didn’t exactly feel trapped either, you just felt upset that you were asleep the entire time.

That you missed something so special in your relationship because he was afraid of your reaction to what he wanted to accomplish. There was nothing he could do to take that back now, and you would have to remember it forever. “I know I messed up, but I just couldn’t take the chance to lose you in anyway.”Loki admitted sitting down next to you looking where your gaze was directed.

“I don’t mind that you want to be with me forever, or that our souls are now tied together. I’m upset because I wasn’t really there, it was you alone. That was something we should have done together, something we should have felt together. Now I just feel like I missed out on something so much bigger than just ourselves.”You sighed placing your hand on his much to his surprise.

“We can do it again, although admittedly it was dark magic that I used. I didn’t think that you would approve of that, but I would like to share it with you. If you will allow me to try again to show you my true intentions.”Loki offered squeezing your hand slightly.

“I will agree if you tell me how you found me so quickly.”You inquired looking to him with a slight smile on your face.

“Uh well part of the bond means that I kind of know where you are at all times, and it also means that eventually once it settles in more you will likely be able to do the same with me. There is no more hiding from anything, you will constantly be able to find me.”Loki explained holding the book out for you to take and read if you wanted to.

“So you basically put a tracker on me too?”You asked slightly annoyed but after all it was Loki, leave it to him to get what he wants in some way, shape, or form.

“Well unintentionally yes, but I am not sorry it happened. It will allow me to further protect you from harm really. If I can find you no matter what just by the pull from my heart to yours.”Loki sheepishly responded turning to look you in the eye. “My love for you will never end, and I wanted to prove it to you. I still do.”He added making sure you could tell that he was being truthful.

“All I ask is that next time you include me in your plans, especially you know if they involve me too.”You replied shaking your head as you felt all animosity towards him slowly dissipate. “I love you too Loki, even when you go off half-cocked on some hair brained scheme.”You laughed leaning in pressing your lips to his feeling him smile into it.

“I promise to never again to do anything of the sort without your permission first, my love.”Loki smiled pulling you into his arms keeping you in his tight embrace. “Forever as one, is what we will be.”He whispered into your ear feeling the happiest either of you had ever been.

[Thank you so much for the idea Anon lovely! I’m so sorry it took me so long, but I really hope that it is worth the wait!!!! <3 <3 <3]

#yandere marvel #marvel yandere #loki laufeyson x reader #yandere loki laufeyson

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theguineapig3 · 6 years

Text

Tales Whump Week Day 3: Self-Destruction

“The Zoonosis Protocol”

Tales of Symphonia Words: 2087 Characters: Lloyd Irving, Kratos Aurion

A casual conversation between Lloyd and Kratos turns unexpectedly sour when Lloyd asks a seemingly innocent question and Kratos gives a much less innocent answer. Why were the human ranches programmed with a self-destruct sequence anyway? What did they think they’d need to destroy?

It was a hot day- too hot for combat practice in Lloyd’s opinion, but Kratos had said something about “being prepared to fight in adverse conditions,” so Lloyd had followed his father out into the forest with his swords anyway. They had sparred over and over, Kratos making adjustments to Lloyd’s technique along the way, but it only took an hour for the heat to overcome them. Lloyd felt like he was about to collapse, and Kratos didn't look much better.

They settled down for a rest in the shade, and Kratos handed Lloyd one of the canteens of water he’d brought with them. Lloyd gratefully accepted it and downed it in a few quick swigs, ignoring Kratos’ warnings about drinking too fast. As he handed the canteen back, he thought back to some of the conversations they’d had recently. Kratos had been much more open about things since the worlds were at peace, answering Lloyd’s questions about his mother, about Noishe, about Mithos and the Kharlan War, and even about Cruxis and the Desians. A visit with Genis and Raine the other day had reminded Lloyd of a question that had been nagging at the back of his mind for awhile, and he figured this was as good a time as any to ask it.

“I've been thinking… why is it that the Desians programmed self-destruct sequences into their ranch systems? Seems a little convenient for us, don't you think?”

It was, as far as Lloyd knew, an ignorant question. Perhaps Kratos would even find it funny, maybe laugh it off. Those silly Desians and their easily-destroyed ranches, making it too simple for the good guys to cripple their infrastructure and save the day, right? That silly Lloyd, questioning something he ought to just appreciate, right? Kratos would give him an amused scolding and they could continue their lesson in high spirits.

But Kratos didn't laugh. He didn't even smile.

“What brought this question about?” Kratos asked, turning his whole body to face Lloyd. “Did Professor Raine say something to you yesterday?”

“No, it's not that,” Lloyd replied, shaking his head. “But when I was walking back from the village, I passed by the remains of the Iselia Ranch, and… I thought about the fact that it’s really the only one left intact now, since the others were destroyed or flooded. I guess I started thinking- hey! That sure was great that we were able to destroy them with their own technology! And it seemed a little odd to me. So I figured you would be the one to ask.”

There was a moment of silence as Kratos stared at Lloyd, as though examining him. Lloyd somehow felt as though he was being tested, as though Kratos was unsure how serious his question was and was scrutinizing him for any sign that he might be joking.

“Wh-what's with that look? Is it such a stupid question?” Lloyd leaned in closer. “I was just curious, is all-”

Kratos held up a hand to cut him off. “No, you have a right to be curious. It's not a stupid question, really. The ranches weren't originally constructed with self-destruct mechanisms. They were added to the plans later, around 1800 years ago.”

“Huh? Why’d they add them?”

“It was Mithos’… Lord Yggdrasil’s idea,” Kratos began, his voice hesitant. “It was part of a contingency program he put in after a major disaster killed a large number of people both in and outside of one of the ranches at the time.”

Lloyd was surprised, but also intrigued by the story. He sat up straighter and reached for the canteen again as he listened. “But how is a self-destruct system supposed to prevent a disaster?” he asked before taking another big gulp of water. “Like, it could really hurt people if they were stuck inside when it was activated.”

“Actually, that was the point. The systems were designed with the intention to kill everyone and everything inside the ranch.”

Lloyd froze, his stomach churning. It might've been from drinking the water too fast, but he suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. He made sure the lid on the canteen was secure and slowly pushed it away from him.

“I… don't understand… why would they… how does that help? You said it was a plan to prevent deaths, right? Then-”

“It’s complicated,” Kratos answered, cutting him off again. “The focus of the ranches was always the development of exspheres, but as part of that goal, there have always been other activities. Around two-thousand years ago, Cruxis began studies into the genetic component of exsphere host compatibility. As you’re aware, the better suited the host, the stronger the exsphere can develop before being removed. They successfully identified certain genes which predisposed humans to being better exsphere hosts. However, their… breeding programs… proved too costly and time-consuming to justify the benefits.”

Lloyd felt his chest tighten and his fists clench at the words “breeding programs.” Kratos seemed disgusted to even say it, and Lloyd didn't blame him. The way Desians had treated humans was despicable, as though they were nothing but livestock to be used and disposed of. Kratos continued, but the story didn't get any lighter.

“Instead of selective breeding, they began working on a more direct approach using horizontal gene transfer. This uses independent genetic materials known as replicons to introduce new genes into host cells. The most efficient replicons for gene delivery are viruses, but it can be dangerous to use pathogenic viruses as vectors without properly deleting the genome needed for viral replication-” Kratos stopped himself as he noticed Lloyd’s eyes starting to glaze over. “-er, in more simple terms, they were using viruses to ‘infect’ human cells with the genes they wanted.”

“Okay, I kinda get it…” Lloyd murmured. “But don't viruses make people sick?”

“They can. That was what led to the disaster at the old Palmacosta ranch.” Kratos closed his eyes and sighed. “I wasn't involved, so I’m not completely sure what happened. All I know is that, through some mistake- or potentially through intentional sabotage, given how careful the researchers were- several human test subjects in the ranch were exposed to a dangerous pathogenic form of one of the viruses.”

“And ‘pathogenic’ means…”

“Infectious. Makes people sick.”

“Ah, I see.”

There was a pause, and Kratos seemed to be considering what to say next. The sunshine overhead was slowly obscured by a cloud, darkening the forest around them. The cooler air was a relief, but the change in the atmosphere made Lloyd nervous in a way that he couldn't quite identify.

Once Kratos continued, his voice had taken on a more detached tone, almost professional in the way he pronounced the words. Lloyd had caught onto the subtle changes in Kratos’ voice now, noticing the different way he pronounced things when he was relaxed. There was the slightest hint of an unfamiliar accent, something different from anything Lloyd had ever heard in his travels. Lloyd figured it was a remnant of some long-dead dialect from Kratos’ ancient hometown, but it disappeared completely when Kratos was serious.

That, of course, was most of the time, but it had become less and less dominant when Lloyd and Kratos were alone together. Hearing it again so suddenly caught Lloyd off-guard.

“Humans, elves, and half-elves are all the same species, much as some of them want to believe otherwise. Their physiology is somewhat different, but in general, any pathogen that can infect humans can infect elves and half-elves with no trouble. Despite this, the Desians didn't believe- didn't want to believe- that they could contract or even carry diseases of… inferior beings. They took no precautions to protect themselves from the virus as it began to kill humans at the ranch. They didn't think twice about sending messengers to other ranches or sending representatives to the nearby towns for replacement supplies. By the time the first Desian began to display symptoms, they had exposed hundreds of others, and those hundreds had then exposed thousands more. The epidemic lasted years and claimed tens of thousands of lives, both half-elf and human. Besides the emotional toll on everyone involved, the loss of both researchers and test subjects was a severe setback to Cruxis’ operations, and Lord Yggdrasil put measures in place to ensure it never happened again. He banned the use of potentially pathogenic vectors in genetic testing, set out new decontamination and quarantine protocols for test subjects, and had self-destruct mechanisms installed in all the ranches in order to eliminate a potential future outbreak.”

Lloyd fidgeted with his hands uncomfortably, processing the information. “I-I never heard that side of the story before. We learned about it in history class, the so-called Red Plague that killed a third of Sylvarant’s population almost two-thousand years ago. They say the official name was Red Plague because early symptoms involved coughing up blood, but supposedly it was called the Desian Plague in some circles because they believed it was caused by the Desians as an attack on humanity. Professor Raine said that was just a myth, though, because, bad as the Desians were, they didn't have any control over human diseases. I… can’t believe it was true after all.”

“Well, it wasn't true that it was an intentional attack on humanity,” Kratos replied. “Whatever it was, accident or sabotage, it hurt Cruxis as well. So much so that future Desians who worked in ranches were prepared to give their lives should another outbreak occur. Lord Yggdrasil- Mithos- gave the program a horrible, horrible name too… the ‘Zoonosis Protocol.”

Lloyd’s eyes widened. “That is a horrible name. What the hell is a zoonosis? Like, he could've at least used a shorter word that normal people understand-”

“A zoonosis refers to a disease that can be transferred between animals and people,” Kratos interrupted. “He was, in no uncertain terms, calling humans animals.”

Lloyd went silent. He could physically feel the color draining from his face and turned his head away so that Kratos wouldn't see how sick he looked. Once it was clear Lloyd wasn't going to say anything, Kratos continued, his voice changing back to its casual tone yet again.

“That was the first time I realized how far gone Mithos was. It was clear before, but I didn't notice it or didn't want to notice it. But when he blatantly referred to humans as animals, I couldn't deny it any longer. The Mithos I had once known, the one who wanted to find a way for everyone in the world to live at peace with one another, was gone. He was now someone who was prioritizing revenge over everything else, someone who had let his hatred take over. That was the moment I felt like… like I'd truly lost him.”

The cloud that had been sitting in front of the sun finally passed, and the forest was once again bathed in sunlight. The ground where Lloyd and Kratos were sitting was lit up with patches of light filtering in from the trees above, and Kratos seemed to be focusing his attention on those rather than on his son. Lloyd looked back at him and scooted closer.

“If you knew so long ago, then why did you stay with Cruxis? Why did you keep working for Yggdrasil?”

“Because I didn't have anything else,” Kratos answered, still not looking up. “I didn't have any family other than Mithos. I might've ‘lost’ him, but as long as I didn't let go, I still had something to do, something to live for.”

Lloyd was silent again, but he moved even closer and slipped his arm around Kratos’ elbow so that their arms were linked together. Kratos turned to look at him in surprise, and Lloyd offered a smile.

“Well, you have something to live for now, right?”

The statement elicited a rare smile from Kratos. “Yes, I do,” he answered, “and he’s managed to chat away a lot of his practice time.”

“Wh- hey! That's not-” Lloyd pried himself away, holding his hands up in defense. Kratos just laughed and pulled himself to his feet.

“Raine warned me you were particularly good at this technique, asking time-wasting questions to get out of her lectures.”

“I-I didn't do this on purpose! I was really curious! And anyway, you were the one who talked forever!”

“Yes, I should've been more wary. Now pick up your swords; we have more practice to do before it gets dark.”

“Aw, but Kratos…”

#taleswhumpweek #tales of symphonia #my fanfiction #theguineapig3

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unofferable-fic · 6 years

Text

UNOFFERABLE: 15 - SENTIMENT

Summary: The unexpected arrival of an injured Midgardian child clinging to life causes a ruckus on Asgard. The princes, Thor and Loki, are somewhat intrigued by this unusual guest, unsure as to how and why she ended up in such a state. What they did not expect, however, was the turn of events her appearance would inevitably cause.

Originally posted by coffeekeyboardsss

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Set Pre-Thor 1

Pairing: Loki x OFC

Inspired by this imagine

Warnings: Jealous Loki, drinking, fluff.

Word Count: 3,671

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Playlist: “Muddy Waters” — LP, “Arms of Mine” — Le Cassette, “Falling Slowly” — Glen Hansard & Markéta Irglová, (You’re the) Devil in Disguise — Elvis Presley

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A/N: Also available on AO3 and FanFiction.net. Oh lord, we have reached that point in the story. Things are happening! Or...are they? Possibly maybe! Feel free to let me know what y’all think!

After Astrid’s murder, the palace became a hive of activity. It was constantly swarmed with alert Einherjar for a few weeks, unsure as to whether another attack was imminent. Eventually the patrols calmed when nothing else came about, but now each handmaiden to the Allmother had been assigned their own personal guard to accompany them between their duties. The handmaidens themselves didn’t argue with it, they were understandably distraught by the death of the comrade and friend, and who could argue with some temporary protection? Ellie had been temporarily allotted a guard by the name of Kirkjabyr. He was an older burly fellow, his face marred with old scars underneath his thick brown beard. Loki had known of him already from his years of service to his family. Though he looked like he would have no problem ripping your head off, he was a surprisingly docile man when the time called for it. He was on Ellie’s good side rather quickly, and she seemed to enjoy his company throughout the day. He had several daughters of his own, so he seemed more than happy to hold conversation with her about anything and everything.

The only issue with having someone in her company meant that Loki’s secret seiðr lessons with her would no longer be a secret. When she asked him what lies she could feed Kirkjabyr, he decided that they could probably get away with it if she said he was giving her extra tutoring in politics. This would have all been well and good, but Kirkjabyr would probably also inform the Allmother and Allfather that their son was spending time with a handmaiden late at night in the library… That would hardly improve Ellie’s image, and the last thing she needed was another rumour to tarnish her reputation. The combat training in the yard would be easier to justify — I need at least some trainin’ in self-defence. What if there’s another attack and I’m cornered alone? — given recent events, so Loki was not worried about her explaining this to Kirkjabyr. Instead, their seiðr lessons would have to remain a secret. He would have no issue casting an illusion spell to make himself invisible; the extra guards on patrol would have no idea when he left his room to go to the library. This would also give her the chance to practice her own illusion casting.

“What if I can’t do it?” she asked him one day as she delivered some books to his chambers, as per his specific request. “What if I mess it up and the Einherjar find me tryin’ to sneak out of my room?”

“You have to practice illusions and seiðr in a real situation eventually,” he replied. “How else do you expect to master it? You will never reach the same level as I, but that does not mean you cannot master magic to the best of your abilities.”

Upon their next weekly seiðr lesson, Loki left his rooms a little later than usual, fully aware that Ellie may need a little bit more time to gather herself and sneak past the guards. While she had been learning magic for only five or six short years, he pushed her hard and focused mostly on illusions and seiðr, so he believed that she could manage the test of making herself disappear to untrained eyes. Upon arriving at his destination, he wasn’t expecting to find her already there, sitting happily beside the record player and listening to some music. As he shut the door behind him, she whipped her head around and sent him a delighted smile.

“I did it!” she whisper yelled, throwing two arms up in the air. “I snuck by the guards and they had no idea!”

“As I said you would,” he said dryly and approached with a rye smile.

“It took a lot outta me though,” she explained. “Is it okay if I take a moment to get my energy back?”

“Of course.” He set himself down in his usual chair and let his chin rest in the palm of his hand. “It is expected that it would take a lot of energy for you to cast an illusion over yourself. It is the same with the more difficult runes and seiðr spells. When my mother first taught me, I too struggled with illusions that now require little effort to cast. Even still, I will require rest if I cast a particularly taxing one. You will slowly learn to adjust, but right now, I wish to focus our efforts on more practical seiðr and illusions.”

“And why would that be?”

“When Thor and I decided it would be best to train you in some self-defence, it was for your protection. When my mother first introduced me to magic, it was playful and fun, but she soon knew that I would be a far better magic-wielder than I would a warrior. I do not fight in the same way my brother does — as you know well — but there was no reason why I could not use magic to assist me in combat. With recent events in this palace, I think it is time I do the same for you. Enough seiðr rituals for the moment, it is time we moved on to what I was taught to keep myself alive.”

Ellie pondered his words carefully, probably realising that this was a dire situation to be in. She understood that in this realm, she needed to find ways of keeping herself alive without relying on the assistance of someone else. If she was caught in the same position as Astrid, she refused to go out without a fight. “That is a fair point. Look, you’re my teacher, so I trust whatever you think is best for me.”

“Good. Then once you regain some energy, we will delve into magical energy, more stealth illusions, strength runes, and weapon conjuring. These abilities will not make you invincible, but they will sure as Hel give you a better chance if the time comes.”

She sat forward in her seat as he listed off each area of expertise. “If they are more practical then I’m excited to get into it. What should we start with?”

With the flick of his wrist, a long dagger appeared in Loki’s grasp. “I think it is practical to make sure you are always armed, little one.”

Ellie eyed the shimmering metal in his hand for a moment. Clearly the severity of the situation had finally hit her full force. Again, he knew she would not be anywhere near a master of the arts, but he truly believed she would try her best, and if that meant her safety was improved, then he would do his best to help her get there.

She met his gaze and matched his smirk with her own. “Then let’s get to it.”

* * *

Much like the first hurdle with making the plant grow some years ago, the first time Ellie would ever summon a dagger would take a lot of time and effort. Obviously, illusions were easier to cast than conjuring something solid that had a purpose. Sessions left her exhausted, and she was usually hidden behind an illusion cast by Loki in order to get back to her rooms. This was understandable and expected, given her mortality and age, but there were moments when he wondered whether she would ever master it. If she did, it would probably cost most of her energy to do it. Alas, they pressed onwards, more determined than ever to succeed. Although they were taking baby steps, progress was progress.

Their trips to Midgard were put on a halt, what with their attention being focused on training and seiðr. Since the incident, they hadn’t even mentioned going again, but now with Ellie’s nineteenth nameday approaching, they agreed to go just once more for the foreseeable future. At her request, they returned to London, England, which was, all things considered, a city with a very different atmosphere at night. She expressed a desire to explore what the nightlife had to offer and, though the sight of some of these Midgardian ‘clubs’ made him frequently grimace in displeasure, he was more comfortable with going into somewhere a little more respectable. With the help of some dressy clothes and conjured identification cards, they found themselves in somewhere called the Roof Gardens, a vibrant club with food and music on offer. Obviously it did not hold up to some of the parties Loki attended on Asgard, but it would certainly do for an evening. After her last drink-related experience, Ellie was eager to try these fancy-looking colourful things called cocktails.

“You remain here,” Loki ordered, eying the nearby bar. “And I will get some for us.”

“Hold on there,” Ellie said, grabbing his arm and getting to her feet. “If it’s alright with you, I want’a go up and buy them.”

“But it is your nameday,” he replied, clearly hesitant. “It is customary to purchase drinks for the one who is getting older.”

Sending him a less than impressed look, she shook her head. “Ah yeah, the god who is over a thousand years old is saying I’m old. Sit down, I’d like to go up and get them.”

“So you are doing something for me for once?” He sent her a playful grin as he sat back down. “I suppose I should let you go up then. These occurrences are few and far between.”

She let out a laugh and said. “You have some neck, Loki.” She shook her head as she left him to his own devices.

He remained seated at their small table, watching her every move from his seat. He knew that he didn’t necessarily need to guard her so intensely on Midgard, but he couldn’t pull his gaze away. She stood at the edge of the bar, fishing through her purse for money while waiting to be served. He eyed her form, noting how exceptionally well fitted the dress he conjured for her was. He stared unabashedly given that she had her back to him. He probably shouldn’t have done so, considering how long he had known her and how young she was in comparison to him, but it wasn’t like anyone here would judge him for it. They didn’t know that he was royalty, so he didn’t give a single solitary fuck what anyone thought.

She was somewhat timid as a barmaid approached her. He watched as she pointed to a cocktail menu, probably asking what each drink contained. The barmaid seemed happy enough to help and Loki observed as she pointed to two drinks and Ellie nodded happily at the choice. The woman now stood visibly more relaxed as the barmaid got to making the cocktails, moving about to grab ingredients with expert knowledge. It was at this moment when he noticed another figure appear to his companion’s left. The sight of a young man dressed to the nines in a dapper suit made Loki clench his fist on the table top, but he remained seated, unwilling to get up and cause a scene. Perhaps Ellie would dismiss his advances — it was clear by the way his eyes never left her that he was ‘interested’. Over the blaring 80s music, Loki wasn’t sure what the man said as he gained her attention. Her expression was confused at first, and she hesitantly shook his hand when it was offered, but the more the man spoke, the more she relaxed. Loki was, of course, reacting in the opposite way. When the man roused a small chuckle from her, the Trickster was seeing red. As the barmaid placed the cocktails down on the counter and asked to be paid, the man had the audacity to take out his wallet, but Loki watched in amusement as he was profusely turned down and Ellie handed the server the money.

Loki had crossed the room in a matter of seconds. “Allow me to help.”

Ellie, somewhat surprised by his arrival, stuttered before saying. “Oh! Eh, t-thanks, Loki.”

“You know this guy?” the admirer asked, clearly a local given the accent, and gesturing to the prince.

“She came here to this establishment with me,” Loki replied before she could get a word in edgeways. “And you are…?”

Now closer to him, he made an apt assessment of his features; sharp nose, defined jawline, piercing grey eyes, dark hair with light matching stubble. He supposed he was somewhat conventionally handsome, if Midgardians were into that type of specimen. “Richard. And I believe she said your name was… Loki?”

The God of Mischief had no issue with staring this ‘Richard’ down. “Indeed, she did.”

Ellie looked between them, baffled by the behaviour. She handed Loki his glass and took up her own. “Okay, well—”

“Yes, we should go back to our table before someone else commandeers it. As you were, Robert.”

“Uh, it’s Richard.”

But Loki was already pulling Ellie towards their table, in no way eager to correct himself. Ever so polite, she called back that it was nice meeting him before following Loki again.

“What was that all about?” she demanded irritably.

“What?” He looked innocent. “I merely assisted you in bringing the drinks to the table.”

“Ah now. You might as well have threatened Richard with the way you were glarin’ at him.”

“I was concerned for your safety; his intensions were ill.” He took a sip of his drink. “That is not bad. Have you tried yours?”

“Don’t change the subject—”

“It is very fruity.”

“Loki—”

“But it is! Try it.”

She sighed heavily. “I wasn’t gonna run off with him or anythin’, even if I probably could.”

He set his drink down and clasped his hands together. “Look, when we are on Midgard, you are my responsibility, even if you are an ‘adult’ here. I am cautious because neither of us knew that man. Not only that, but my mother would have my head if I lost her mortal handmaiden on this planet.”

She studied him for a moment before a small smile slowly grew on her made-up lips. “Aaaahhh, okay. You’re just doin’ that to appease Queen Frigga. Sure thing.”

“I would hardly wish to upset my mother…”

“Would it kill you to say you wouldn’t want anythin’ to happen to me?”

“Possibly,” he muttered and took another gulp of his cocktail. “What is this beverage called?”

“The server said it was called a Sex on the Beach, or somethin’.” Finally she took her first taste and her eyes went wide. “Oh my God, that’s delicious! You weren’t messin’ when you said it was fruity.”

“I’m sorry,” Loki began and held up a hand. “Are you going to ignore the ridiculous name you just called it?”

“I’m more concerned with how it tastes, if I’m honest.”

“How impractical,” he said, contemplating the activity in his head with a scowl. “It would be so sandy and uncomfortable.”

“Oh, so I can’t discuss galavanting off with Richard, but you can talk about havin’ sandy sex? Double standards, Your Highness.”

“That mortal is a fool considering he thought he had a chance to court you in the first place. And I think it is fairly clear that fucking in a place with copious amounts of sand would be—”

“I’m not gettin’ into this with you,” she insisted. “The next round is on you for puttin’ such horrid images in my innocent head.”

Ever since that night, Loki found himself watching Ellie as she worked more that usual. The way he studied her form on Midgard left him constantly eying her as she went about her day. Be it during lessons, serving their food, or cleaning the halls after festivities. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. If he was honest, at least within his internal monologue, he would say that she was…attractive? Could he say that? Was that something controversial considering she was but a young mortal? There was no question that she had become a woman in recent years and had certainly…grown into herself.

Okay so, yes, Loki would admit that he did find her physically attractive, but he wasn’t immune to attractive individuals, that was certain. He usually found it quite easy to make his way through numerous partners before he lost interest and moved on. But that was where his problem lay — using Ellie for his physical needs before throwing her out of his chambers seemed strangely harsh and unfair.

Sitting under their tree a few days after they returned from their trip, Loki and Ellie idly flicked through separate books while enjoying each other’s silent company. On that quiet day, they chose to spend their time in the gardens. Every now and then, he heard a small giggle from her direction. At first, he ignored it, focusing his attention on the writing before him. He wet his finger and turned the page as another giggle was stifled. His eyes levelled on her only to be met with her biting her lip, trying to hold in the laughter as she read her — apparently hilarious — book. She never noticed him looking, and her gentle chuckling continued while he found himself grinning at the sight. Every now and then, his attention would return to his own book, only to be dragged back to her every time she let out a happy snigger. Every time she came into view, Loki couldn’t help but admire her smile. He allowed himself to stare, noting how every time a particular line would tickle her, she would place the tips of her fingers on her lips. It was such a gentle gesture, one that he had come to love seeing. There was no way he could stop the smile that came to him. The sight of her so carefree and happy relaxed him. Dare he say seeing her happy made him happy. For once, he didn’t feel ridiculous admiring her features and thinking of how far she had come. If he could, he would never look away.

And so they sat together in silence, flicking through their books under the leaves of the cork tree until the sun drifted from behind the clouds and came out of hiding. Under the leaves of this tree, Loki realised that his feelings had grown slowly over time. So slowly, in fact, that only now did he realise he cared for this woman in a way that he didn’t think possible. For now, he could not let his worries consume him, not when she was there before him looking so effortlessly beautiful and content. The tension within him gradually faded and drifted away with the evening’s breeze as his eyes never strayed from that which made him feel an unfamiliar warmth and calmness. He hoped the sentiment would never leave.

* * *

When Loki was alone with his thoughts, or just without Ellie in his company, he found himself thinking a little clearer than when she was nearby. He knew that he was better off staying away from her and just ignoring these new problematic ‘feelings’, but there was still a part of him that shamelessly drew pleasure from her presence. After a busy day attending assemblies with his father and brother, he resigned to his chambers and drank himself to sleep, only to be rudely awoken by Dagny knocking on his door. With a groan he pushed himself to a sitting position and called for her to enter.

When she let herself in, he received a formal nod. “Good morning, Your Highness.”

“Good morning, Dagny,” he replied somewhat gruffly, remaining sat in his place.

“Do you require anything else other than standard services today?”

He shook his head, lost in his resurfacing thoughts. “No.”

Saying nothing else, Dagny got to work and didn’t acknowledge him unless spoken to first. To be fair, he appreciated her withdrawn nature for once, as it let him think he was the only one in the room. Loki was aware that Odin would probably disown him if he knew any of this. He already hated that he and Thor both saw Ellie in whatever free time they had. As if the fact he had befriended a Midgardian was bad enough, he also had to find her attractive. As if he wasn’t already a disappointment.

How swell.

While he relished Ellie’s presence, he wondered if there was a way to get what he wanted without further distancing himself from his father. Being on a friendly basis with her was already bad enough, but he was never one for strict rules that were detrimental to his own desires anyway. There was probably a way around it, similar to how he began to teach her self-defence. Another way in which they were required to spend time together, one that they could manage without having to constantly cloak themselves.

Now that would be ideal.

The rustling of Dagny laying out his clothes on his bed drew him out of his head. Obviously she had no clue about his internal feud, and why would she? It’s not like they ever spoke about anything other than if he needed her to draw a bath. She was rather boring, if he was blunt, which he always was. But he was stuck with her until she retired, just like Radburn before her, and he was genuinely not looking forward to the probable century for which she would be around…

As they usually did, the clogs in Loki’s head began to turn with new ideas beginning to take shape. Slowly, he settled his gaze on Dagny and found himself sneering at her back. She went about her work as always, completely unaware of what he was now planning. If there was ever a way for him to obtain his own selfish needs, however foolish they may be, he always found it. The Trickster sometimes thought that his best schemes came about quite suddenly. Now he was almost sure of it.

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imagine-loki · 6 years

Text

Abandoned

Title- Abandoned

Chapter/One-shot- Part 10

Author- starrynight35/starrynightfantasies

Original Imagine Imagine Loki witness a person abandoning a pet, he pays little heed at first, humans, of course, are fickle creatures, but on hearing the human use words like “runt” and “worthless” something in him stirs. Looking into the box human has dumped the animal in, he realises it is a small black furball.

Rating- G

Notes/Warnings- language/angst

Read it on AO3 here- http://archiveofourown.org/works/12152160/chapters/29519247

Steve nodded without looking up at Tony.

“So, are we just going to tell everyone to climb aboard the quinjet? Hey! We’re going for a ride!” Steve mocked.

Tony glared up at him. “I think we had better at least tell Loki where we’re going. He might need some time to prepare. After all, we have no idea what their relationship was like before Odin cast Jorm- Jormu- fuck it, I’m calling him ‘Jor’ too- out of Asgard."

Steve started shaking his head. "No. No way. This is Thor’s problem, not ours. He should be the one to tell Loki that he knew where Jörmungandr was, not us."

Steve had already been in a match with Loki, and he didn’t want to be in another one any time soon. If Natasha hadn’t shown up when she did, he was sure Loki would have bested him. In fact, Loki had bested him, but thankfully neither man ever mentioned it. He didn’t mention it because it was humiliating. He figured Loki didn’t mention it because everyone was still pretty curious why Loki let them take him so easily. Steve had theories, but no one wanted to listen to them.

Bucky sat in Loki’s room all night even though the god finally wore himself out and fell asleep. He knew from experience that when memories and years of regret came back to haunt you, nightmares were inevitable. Bucky didn’t want Loki to be alone if he woke up that way. Let the others talk. He really didn’t give a damn.

Fennie spent most of the night curled against Loki’s side, apparently knowing exactly what he needed. Bucky was glad that Loki could accept her love so easily. He knew it was difficult for Loki to trust him after such a tumultuous life, so he would be whatever kind of friend Loki could allow. It had taken several years for him to reach a point where he could allow Steve to be close to him again, so he knew the process Loki had to go through.

When Loki finally awoke, Bucky pretended to be asleep. He didn’t want Loki to think he had been spying on him all night. Loki didn’t want to appear weak to anyone, and he certainly wasn’t. Loki was perhaps the strongest one out of all of them. Bucky had no idea how Loki lived with the thoughts that plagued him constantly. He was certain they would have driven him into madness. He wondered what his life would be like if he’d had children- children he’d known and lost. It was difficult enough remembering the lovers he’d had. Those sweet ladies who’d left the world so long ago while he remained, seemingly forever.

"Bucky?” Loki grumbled. “What in the Nine are you still doing in here?"

Bucky silently thanked the Nine- whatever they were- that Loki was back to his normal, pissy self.

"Huh? Oh, sorry man…I must have passed out.”

Loki shook his head in obvious irritation, and Bucky resisted the urge to smile.

Tony and Steve had a plan, but first they needed to make sure Loki didn’t actually kill his brother. Tony couldn’t blame him if he did, but Steve thought they should at least try to stop him, so they stood vigil outside the door while Thor made excuses for his shitty behavior.

While Thor was inside Loki’s room, Clint joined them. He was clueless about the whole situation, so Steve tried to update him while Tony listened for anything out of the ordinary.

“Loki is a dad?” Clint asked, much louder than he intended.

“Shhh! He doesn’t know we’re out here! And yes. But, he doesn’t know where any of his kids are…well, he knows where two of them are. And two of them are–deceased,” Steve finished softly.

It wasn’t long before Clint felt awful about the way he’d treated Loki. Even if Loki had taken over his mind several years ago, Clint still couldn’t justify treating him badly anymore. He’d spent many nights longing for his own children. Knowing he was doing the best he could to protect them wasn’t enough to make up for the time he spent away from them.

“You knew?! YOU KNEW, AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME? WHAT KIND OF BROTHER ARE YOU?"

The three of them jumped back as something heavy crashed into the door. Steve cast a look at Tony, but Tony shook his head.

Not yet, he mouthed. Tony had seen the kinds of fights Loki and Thor could have without either of them walking away with so much as a scratch. He wasn’t concerned about Thor. He was however, very concerned about the structural integrity of the tower.

"Loki, I… father told me not to tell you. He said you would use Jörmungandr as a weapon against the humans. He made me promise,” Thor finished weakly.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Thor felt like an idiot. He had tried so hard to uphold everything their father had asked of him, and now he was beginning to see the cracks in the foundation. He’d known Jor as a child. Jor was a trickster like his father, but he would never actually hurt anyone. Thor wondered what had become of him now that he’d spent so much time bound to Midgard without any real interaction with anyone. After all, Jor was very intelligent. How could he be Loki’s son and not be?

Thor stared at his feet. He didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could say. He was just surprised Loki hadn’t stabbed him yet. Despite the many security checks his brother went through on a daily basis, he knew Loki still had multiple daggers hidden on his person.

Loki watched the pathetic expressions cross his brother’s face. His classic good looks and puppy dog eyes weren’t going to help him this time. Loki wanted nothing more than to cut Thor’s throat and watch him bleed to death. How could he believe such nonsense? How could he think Loki would use his own son as cannon fodder?

“Just because your father wanted to use me as a political pawn doesn’t mean I would do the same with my son, Thor. I am not Odin. We aren’t even related, if you recall."

Loki spat the last words at Thor like venom and stalked out of the room, almost knocking the other three men over as he left. When Thor finally emerged, no one even looked at him.

"You are all on his side, aren’t you?”

Tony’s mouth fell open as he rolled his eyes. “Um, yeah. I’m afraid you fucked yourself this time, Point Break. I mean, I know Odin is called 'Allfather,’ but that guy is seriously misguided.”

“Don’t tell him I said that though,” Tony tacked on as an afterthought.

“We’re leaving at three. Not sure if Reindeer Games will want you tagging along though…"

As Thor made his way to his own room, he contemplated his options. As it turned out, he was on Loki’s side too. He just couldn’t bring himself to admit it yet.

Loki sat in the corner of Stark’s private library quietly holding Fennie while everyone bustled about in the common room. His jaws ached from clenching his teeth, and he could swear he’d felt his left eye twitching just moments before. He opened his hand and carefully smoothed out the crinkled paper Tony had handed him as he’d left his own room. Evidently, the metal man had known exactly how that scenario would play out. Loki silently thanked Stark for his foresight. The paper had the key code for Stark’s library- his personal hiding spot- along with a note.

That was tough, but we’re going to see your kid. We leave at three. Take as much time as you need in there. Steal my booze if you want. I will get everything in order.

-Metal Man

Loki wanted to be pissed off at Stark and everyone else just for existing at this point in time, but he found that after a few minutes his anger had passed and all he felt was sheer terror. He hadn’t even laid eyes on Jor since he was a baby. He’d been so small, he could wrap around Loki’s shoulders. The Aesir believed Jor was nothing more than a giant snake, but they had been so wrong. Of course, with Loki’s reputation, he could never prove anything to them.

He’d hidden Jörmungandr away the moment he was born, knowing how the Aesir would react. He’d known they would think Jor was dangerous, and he had been right. They tormented him from the moment they found out he existed. They called him an abomination, a hel-spawn, and even a monster. Loki wanted to believe that they didn’t realize he knew what they were saying. He wanted to believe they didn’t know his son was hurt by their words, but he knew how they were. Unfortunately, so did his son.

Jor was smart. He spoke with Loki like any other child, albeit with a lisp. Loki could remember the sweet cooing sounds Jor made when Loki took him to the stream to play. He splashed in the water, soaking the grass around Loki’s feet and laughing. Loki wondered if Jor still laughed, or if bitterness and hatred had choked the life out of him as well.

He wondered if Jor would still remember him. Then he almost wished Jor would have forgotten. He hoped his son couldn’t remember everything the way that he did. It hurt to remember everything. Loki remembered the day Odin ordered the Warriors Three to retrieve Jor.

Loki had been in his study reading while Jor and Fenrir were outside. He could hear the two making cracks at each other; playing pranks and laughing. He’d become accustomed to hearing their unique speech, as they were quite different from anyone else in Asgard. He smiled to himself, wondering how the Norns had known what he somehow hadn’t- that he would want to be a father.

Suddenly, Fenrir’s laughter turned to vicious growls, and Jor’s usually lisping speech turned to squeals. Loki ran from his study to find the Warriors Three holding Fenrir down; his head shoved violently into the dirt. Loki gasped in horror as Thor dropped Jor’s body into a bag that was slung over his shoulder.

"What in the Nine is going on here? Unhand my son!” Loki yelled, pulling his dagger from its sheath.

Lady Sif strutted forward and thrust an official document into Loki’s face.

“We were sent by the Allfather. He wishes to inspect Jörmungandr.”

He was relieved to know that Jörmungandr was still alive, especially since he couldn’t hear his son’s voice from outside the thick leather satchel. Loki moved to grab at Thor’s shoulder, but Sif was faster.

“He will be returned. Don’t get hostile, Loki. It would be a mistake.”

The threat in her voice was obvious. Her sword was dangerously close to Fenrir’s throat, and Loki suddenly feared for his other son’s life as well. Rather than put up a fight, he decided to follow them.

“Fine. I shall go with you."

Loki had known that he should be as respectful as possible, but the moment Odin made one quip about Jörmungandr being unnatural, Loki couldn’t hold his tongue. It had all been over then. If he were honest with himself, it had been over already. Odin had planned every moment of that day. He’d sent Thor with the Warriors Three so Loki felt less threatened; therefore complacent. He’d deliberately made Loki angry so he had an excuse to do whatever he wanted to Jor without retribution. And when Loki flung himself at the Allfather; blood and death in his eyes, Odin had made his decision to cast the others out as well.

It was the perfect punishment for all of Loki’s previous crimes. It was the perfect punishment just for existing.

Loki had been angry with Thor for many years. He’d thought Thor had known about Odin’s plans, but he knew better now. Thor was too ignorant to realize just how vengeful his father was.

Loki pulled a bottle of Midgardian Scotch from the shelf in Stark’s library. It was only noon. Perhaps if he drank everything in the room, he could be almost tipsy by three.

#Submitted fic #Angst #Loki #Father #Others #submission #chapter 10 #abandoned #Starrynight35 #person #abandon #pet #fickle #words #runt #worthless #box #black furball

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theboatbuilderswife · 5 years

Text

@ofodinn asked: 15-20, 30-36

015. Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue?

Tongue, of course, haha. Helgs can use her fists, don’t get me wrong, but when she knows it will not help in that very situation i.e the opponent is a tall man, she knows she shouldn’t even try.

016. What is their choice of weapon?

A knife. Helga always carries a small knife with her she got from Floki not long after they met one another. That said, she does have a sickle that is quite sharp as well, perhaps not a weapon to some, but trust me, it works.

017. When does your character think that violence is justified or deserved?

Hm, difficult to explain. But you know when someone gets hurt or attacked for absolutely no reason Helga believes that attacker deserves what violence will come towards them, even in Floki’s case after Athelstan’s murder. Helga would never deny Floki didn’t deserve some kind of punishment for what he did, although to her it felt like her whole family was punished by putting Floki in that cave to die.

018. Your character wakes up to find that war has been declared. What do they do?

She helps, not by fighting, but other things. That is simply what she does. She helps whoever she can help.

019. If they could have a superpower, what would they choose?

Gods, I would not know? I think I would chose for something very nature based- like perhaps being able to communicate with nature? A little bit like her skogsrå verse.

020. What are their hobbies?

Her hobby is her job, pretty much. You can just put her in her gardens and return after a few hours and still not being able to drag her away from them.

030. Do they believe in the afterlife?

Of course she does ! It is part of her beliefs that she will end up in Hel’s care at some point.

031. Are they superstitious about anything?

No, not really.

032. Does your character believe in ghosts?

Draugr yes, Ghosts not. I don’t even think that was a known concept back then. Spirits are something completely different, but at the same time could be connected to ghosts ? So yes/no. She does care for the spritis of her ancestors, even while they have passed on to other worlds. She also cares for the land, water and air spirits, but they have no physical form, to her knowledge.

033. Do they keep their promises?

Always. unless she forgets about a promise, which can always happens, of course.

034. What’s their view of lying?

She doesn’t like it, at all. Her relations are based on trust. I really liked this in my canon divergent after she finds out Floki is Loki and she got extremely mad at him to the point she took her children and told him to sod off for what he had done to her. People break her trust when they lie to her, and it is extremly difficult to regain it again.

035. What is the most important rule your character lives by?

To care for every living thing you are surrounded by. Helga believes that kindness will be returned, one way or another.

036. How honorable is your character?

Very, I’d say ? She is honest, caring and kind. Unless you wronged her one way or another, I don’t think there are many people who would speak bad about Helga.

#ofodinn #❧ .ABOUT HELGA | ‘ most blest is she who lives free and bold ’

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reylo-in-the-dark · 7 years

Text

The Search

Chapter 8: Sister’s slipping

Heather knew it was coming… Dagur was trailing behind her. She thought it was pathetic. How could he even perceive that he would be able to keep up with her? He was on a Gronkle and she was on a Razorwhip and there were thick clouds above them. Gronkle’s weren’t trackers. The only thing they could potentially track was a nice piece of granite. She got her dragon to high up into the thick of the clouds to make Dagur lose them. And after a good hour she lost him, making twists and turns that she knew he wouldn’t be able to follow and once he was long gone she got Windshear to head in direction of Viggo’s island. It was maybe a day’s ride away. And when they needed to sleep the two, dragon and rider found a small island to camp out on, Heather wrapped up in furs under the protective wing of her metallic dragon. She had the same nightmare yet again. With her in the cot being sent out, there was a huge wave, a crash of thunder, a flash of lightening and then she woke up in a cold sweat and an anger in her that she couldn’t hide.

Now that she was alone she didn’t have to hide her feelings. She got out from under the dragon’s wing. It was very late into the night. The stars were twinkling in the inky blackness that was the night’s sky and she took out her axe from the saddle that was next to the dragon. She began to hack away at a tree, shouting, and screaming as she attacked it, chopping chunks from it. The air was calm and her screaming could be heard for at least a mile. The axe was sharpened very good and was easily taking chunks out of the tree.

For at least an hour she hacked at the tree until she exhausted herself and collapsed against the tree and fell asleep. Windshear went over to her hours later to keep Heather safe. Heather and she were a family. They would always look after each other.

When she rose the sun, Heather woke up under the wing of her dragon. She gave her dragon a hug. “Come on, girl. We best get hunting.” She muttered and was then let out from under the wing. She attached the saddle to her long neck and put back the furs before climbing on the saddle. The two took to the skies and headed to the island.

It didn’t take too long until they arrived at the island. They landed at Viggo’s demolished tent. It was like no one had even stepped foot around here. She used her axe to cut open the dragon skin tent. Everything was still there. The table, the maces and talons table that Viggo was so obsessed with and the drawer that he used to keep his clothes and plans. She pulled all the drawers out and threw everything about before she destroyed the drawer itself. That’s when she saw a map with a circle around an island. When she was the ‘traitor’ she hadn’t heard anything about this island. Was it a backup island? Were there dragon hunters there?

She picked up the parchment and examined it. It looked to be a day’s ride away if that. The cover of night would be good. Slit their throats as they slept. She ached to do that. It was starting to become a sort of desire for her…

Heather put away the map in the pouch on the saddle before climbing on it and taking to the skies again to scout the island. Hours they spent searching the island for the scum that were dragon hunters. She was starting to think that she was going to end up empty handed. But as noon turned to dusk, the sky going from a blue to an orange that’s when she saw it, smoke. It was coming from the northern reaches of the island and she made Windshear head to it.

Before they got to it she got Windshear to land about a mile away. Heather got Windshear to follow behind at a distance. Heather wanted her as backup. She had to be the one to do this. She had to end them. She didn’t see who it was but it had to be hunters. Who else could it be? On the island of the dragon hunters. It was obvious.

The smoke drew closer as she walked to it, axe in her hand, Windshear trailing about twenty feet behind her. She got there, hiding behind the bush. She saw them. Zippleback hide armour on their backs. All four of their backs. It made her blood boil. It made her heart hammer in her chest. This was it. This was going to be the moment that she would finally take her revenge on the dragon hunters for all they had done to her. Harmed her. Attempted to take over the Dragon’s Edge. Try take over the island she now called home. These were the men…

She saw red. It was like Midgard stood still in that moment. She jumped out and took them by surprise. No one could stop her from doing this now. She threw her axe and it wedged in the skull of a hunter, splitting both the helmet and head. It felt like things were going slow motion. She thought all the anger would come out with that one but it didn’t… It sort of felt good… She ran out the bush and ripped the axe out. Hunters were taken back by what happen they tried to scramble away but Heather was too quick. She charged them. She ran out and ripped the axe out, causing a crunch before extending her axe and with a quick swipe she cut two men’s throats, blood squirting out and landed on her axe and her leather top and even face. It was strange… It felt good… She had killed before, well she got her dragon to, so this was different.

And that’s what Windshear did. The last dragon hunter took out his sword but before he could attack, Windshear breathed fire from twenty feet away and melted the skin from him. It was never a nice was to go but he shouldn’t have tried to attack her. She was panting, a small smile on her face. She felt glad and she began to chuckle, four bodies around her. Windshear coming out from the shadows. “Can’t hurt anyone else, can you?” She yelled and planted her axe into the chest of the deceased. She wiped at the blood on her face and it ended up smearing on her right cheek. To anyone looking in from the sides she’d look insane but this was what she wanted. What she did here was justified. No one would miss them, she certainly wouldn’t. They hunted dragons and killed them, sold them off and killed anyone that got in their way. No one was going to miss them or so she thought. She didn’t account for them having families (which two did).

She pulled out her axe, still a smile on her face and she went over to her dragon and petted the shiny neck of her Razorwhip. “Come on, girl. Let’s go wash up…” She said, climbing on the saddle. She felt like if she didn’t leave then she’d do something much worse to them. They went and found a lake and Windshear splashed around in the water. Hours they spent there but Heather didn’t go in the water. She didn’t wash the blood from her hands or face for hours. She just sat there, looking at the ripples on the surface of the water, replaying in her mind what just occurred. How easily it was to wipe those four men off Midgard. It sort felt good. She just wished there was more of them there. So, she could mow them all down.

There was a rustle in the bush behind her as she finally began to wash her face and she grabbed her axe quickly. “You killed my brother!” A man yelled and ran out, sword held high. He took a swing at her but she quickly ducked, extended her axe out and lodged it in his stomach.

“Yeah! And now I killed you!” She screamed and with quick and fluid movement she cut off the arm of the man that was raised and then she attempted to hack his head off but it got stuck partway through. The blood she had gotten off her had been replaced with a fresh splatter of the stuff. “Hel is waiting for you.” She quickly hit him again and hacked off his head. Stepping back, she was panting hard. It felt like a rush to her, a big rush. She couldn’t explain what she was feeling right now after doing that. After ending another hunter’s life. It all happened so quick that even her dragon didn’t get to her until it was all over. And Heather walked back over to the lake and knelt in the shallows, cupping the water and washing her face yet again. She didn’t try get it out of her clothing (it wouldn’t have come out anyway).

With the sky, black and the stars twinkling above her, Heather decided to get on the back of her dragon and began to fly back to the edge. It was closer to Viggo’s island than Berserk and she needed to sleep. She landed by her small hut. Everyone seemed to be asleep and she was grateful for that. With her state of dress, they’d all ask questions of what happened to her, why her clothes were splattered with blood. And she didn’t want to under the line of all those questions, well, at least not. She had new clothes on the edge but not new leather or dragon plate armour and it was those that it wouldn’t come out of. So, after peeling off her, leaving her in her undergarments. She was just about to get into bed when the door knocked. She groaned. She had a gut feeling that she wouldn’t have been able to sneak into her hut, and she was right.

She didn’t bother getting into her clothes again, staying in her undergarments and chest bindings. Opening the door, she saw him, Fishlegs. It was hard to see distinct features as it was so dark but she could tell it was him. His hulking figure. Windshear came to them and lit the torch by the door and it illuminated their bodies, showing his face and showing hers and the rest of her body. She could see a blush on his face. It was obvious why, it was her state of dress. “I-I… Hi Heather… I wasn’t expecting you. I heard Windshear land and I thought I’d come see how you are…” He said nervously.

She rubbed her head but smiled at him. What she really wanted was to be alone. That’s why she tried to sneak into her hut. She cursed that she went with the spot Fishlegs chose. “I’m good… really good, I just thought I’d come here for the night. Been searching for my dad, Dagur is home, taking care of things… Don’t mind, do you?”

“Wha – no, the Edge is your home as much as mine, Heather! You’re a dragon rider, remember?!” He asked her, thumbs hooked down his belt, a proud look on his face. She knew he was proud to be a dragon rider and she guessed she was still one, too. “I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you come morning!”

Heather was happy to hear that. It seemed that Fishlegs didn’t know where she went to do what she did like Dagur knew. It meant Dagur hadn’t told them which was good, very good. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Fishlegs.” She smiled. As she shut the door (which she wanted to slam in his face) Fishlegs said his ‘goodnight’. She was glad that he didn’t try to kiss her. And once away from the door, Heather to bed.

#the search #heather the unhinged #dagur the deranged #my fics

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r-f-a-scenarios · 7 years

Note

Angst #12 + Zen saying it to MC.

He fucked up.

And on top of it all he is fucked up. Completely wasted and beyond any reasoning or anything. Sitting right there on the ground, in front of the bed that he used to share with the person he loved… the person he still loves. But a person that no longer loves him.

He should’ve known better.

He’s Zen, the famous musical actor and he’s never had much luck when it came to love. He always ends up hurting the people he’s with.

Them throwing the framed picture of them off the wall was more than justified. They had every right to scream at him and call him a filthy cheater and an asshole. They were right. He deserved having the door slammed right in his face. He’s called it.

It’s been days since he saw their face flushed with anger and tears at the very same time. The flame of hatred in their eyes throwing sparks at him like daggers and the tears flowing down their cheeks to top it off.

“I’m such an idiot…” he giggles before taking yet another big swig straight from the bottle. He’s been given that expensive whiskey as a thank you for performing at a play. He’s always kept it, not wanting to waste it. But when you are able to waste everything else and treat it with that little care like he did with his relationship, you sure can waste something to get wasted.

That process of thought made him chuckle yet again, even though he could feel the liquid burning in his throat as it ran down his stomach, sinking deep and screaming to get back up again.

He’s finished the entire bottle and it’s a wonder he hasn’t thrown up yet, honestly. It’s the immense self control he somehow still manages to keep. The self control that keeps him to force himself to suffer. Suffer like he made them suffer.

As he heard knocking on the door, he emptied the bottle entirely, taking the last chug from it before throwing it against the wooden door, wincing himself at the shattering of the glass. The person on the other side of it however didn’t seem to mind too much as they opened the door anyway.

“Getthe fu–HIC–ck away, Saeyoung,” he slurred angrily. “I– tol’cha I don’t… needyour hel’… I jst wanna be ‘lone.”

“Oh my god…” a familiar voice just muttered in disbelief and only then Zen’s eyes, slowly trailed up the figure standing in front of him. It took him a bit to get the blurry vision into focus and not see everything double for a little second. A second enough to make out the familiar features of none other than them. “Are you okay?”

Hyun couldn’t help but laugh at their question. “What’s it look –HIC– like t’ ya? I’m doing grrrrreat!” he laughs while trying to stand up.

They immediately react, telling him to be careful with the shards on the ground as they take a big step across them and walk towards him to hold him. He would’ve easily slipped and fell right into the glass otherwise.

“What’s it t’ ya anyway? Why’re you here?”

“Saeyoung told me to look how you’re doing. He said it was bad, but…”

“Bad?” he asks and laughs again, nearly tripping over in the process once more. “’Tis nothin’.”

“You’re batshit wasted, Hyun.”

“Hahhh… y’know… I missed hearin’ you call me that.”

They remain silent, but the look in their eyes says everything. He disappoints them all over again like the fucking mess he is.

“I’m sorry, y’know?” he slurs between hiccups. “I never meant t’ hurt ya.”

Still quiet as before, they slowly and carefully set him to sit on the bed, one of their arms still around his torso and the other palm placed on his chest for support. “I’ll get you a glass of water. Try to lie down on your side.”

“No!” Zen immediately screams and grabs their wrist as they try to remove themselves from him. “Wait, I gotta tell ya this.”

“Hyun, you’re drunk. All you got to do is sleep.”

“I tried…” he continues and looks at them. His gaze is glazed and he can barely sit up straight without leaning from side to side slightly, like a swing. “I tried… forgetting ya, wanted ya to move on without me… HIC – I… fuck.” he pauses, closing his eyes for a solid ten seconds to recollect himself a little and regain at least some focus. “I thought ya’d be better off without me… but I’m not. Ya know what I mean? Not me being better off without me, me not being better off without you ‘n’ stuff.”

“You’re not making any sense, Hyun, please–”

“Y’ don’t understand. I need ya. I can’t forget ‘bout ya… Please forgive me.”

They stop for a second and pain reflects in their beautiful orbs. They hate seeing him like this. But wasn’t it only more proof of how toxic they were for each other? Of how much misery they caused each other?

“Go to sleep, Zen. Please. We’ll talk once you sobered up, alright?”

It’s likely a promise they won’t keep as they hope he’ll just forget they ever visited him. They’d ask Saeyoung to pretend it was him who helped him sober up and clean up that night. It would be for the better.

#alcohol cw #alcohol mention cw #intoxication cw #zen #zen sc #scenarios #followerspecial #angst #anon

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