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kuronekoartsblog · 8 days
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Lokius commission I finished recently ✨
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Hi my dear !!
My req idea is a fluffy (spicy thoughts can be included) 'seeing each other for the first' time thing with Asgard!Prince!Loki and his betrothed princess yn 🍬💓
💖💖You got it! Thanks for the fun request, @fictive-sl0th! I hope you don't mind that I added a little twist to your idea! Please enjoy! 💖💖
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“The Princess and the Stable Boy” 
After a lifetime of preparation, you finally travel to Asgard for your wedding to Prince Loki, a mysterious man you’ve never met. After your cruel betrothed repeatedly abandons you during your wedding week, you find a special friend with an open ear to whom you bare your soul. But the situation becomes fraught when, on your wedding day, you find you want to give your heart to someone else. 
Pairing: Prince!Loki x Princess!Reader Genre: Fluff, Angst, a little spice Content Warnings: forced marriage, hidden identities, some borderline-smutty thoughts Word Count: 4.5k
MASTERLIST
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“And, tell me, what is the Prince’s excuse this time?” you asked, looking at the diminutive maid in your doorway, her plain white robes a stark contrast to the elaborate, guided threshold she filled. 
“His father is holding court this evening, m’lady,” she replied, her head bowed, refusing to meet your eye. 
Twisting your lip into a skeptical frown, you kept your disappointment inside for the sake of dignity. “Court is never held after sunset,” you answered. “He’s pissed off again.”
The maid didn’t reply. “He did send his regards--”
“--every cursed night for the past four days he’s ‘sent his regards’! We marry in another six and I have yet to see his face, nor he mine,” you  growled, frustration rising in your voice as your anger obscured your manners.”Is he deformed?”
“No, m’lady. His handsomeness is unmatched.” 
“Does his tastes fall to another sex?”
She denied. “M’lady, the Prince is open about his desires, and he does not discriminate between sexes.”
 “Well, does this bastard wish to marry me or not??”
The maid looked helpless for an answer. You softened a little in sympathy. “I suppose you wouldn’t understand.”
She shook her head bashfully. “No, m’lady.”
“Then, just go,” you dismissed, not even bothering to wait in the room for her to leave before scurrying into your parlor and slamming the door, finally letting the scream out that had been building up inside you. It felt like a wonderful release, but it didn;t solve your problem. 
You were getting married to a blank face in six days, uniting your realms, as was decreed on the day of your birth. You were raised getting to know your husband through correspondence, tutors, and finishing lessons. You only knew of his interests through quizzes and long hours of study. And for all your hard work, on the eve of the culmination of it all: he hadn;t even bothered to meet you. 
It was enough of a humiliation when your entourage approached the palace at Asgard only to be greeted by your future brother-in-law, ready with an excuse that your fiance was ailing. The following day, you’d heard he was spotted hunting on the edge of the city. 
The next day, Prince Loki missed your supper with the royal family. Queen Frigga had given you a sympathetic apology, insisting she would send him to greet you personally the following day, assuring you that Loki was eager to wed and merely taking care of some final pre-marital business.
He never appeared at your door, and you’d wasted the entire day waiting for him. 
You were a strong princess, full of glorious purpose, ready to wed whether your heart wanted to or not. Prince Loki was making it very difficult for you to keep your resolve the more it became obvious that he was avoiding you. Every minute that passed solidified the fact in your mind that you were going to be nothing but a weight shackled to his ankle, occasionally bearing an heir and appearing publicly at his side. You were about to become an official Asgardian ornament.
What a sad fate for a princess, you bemoaned, throwing open your balcony doors and stepping out into the night air. You overlooked the inner courtyards and fields of the palace property, a tree line off against the indigo horizon. The twinkle of the city itself was off, beyond the north wall, the light pollution dousing the stars above your head. The rolling knolls were difficult to admire in the twilight.
Something caught your eye before you lost yourself in pitying thought: by the west wall appeared to be a stable, occupied with the royal steeds no doubt. You could have sworn you heard a whinny from that direction. Smiling, you decided that perhaps a horse’s ear was better than no ear at all (and you’d already scared away most of your maids). 
Within a few minutes, you’d donned a black cape and simple dress so as not to attract attention. With all the free time you’d had not getting to know your future husband, you’d gotten to know the ins and outs of the palace corridors quickly, so it was no time before you were out in the open air and strutting toward the stable. You briefly looked up in the direction of the highest tower in the palace: the tower where the royals themselves bedded. Prince Loki was up there somewhere, not giving a damn about you or how lonely you felt. 
“Don’t worry, Loki,” you whispered bitterly before turning away from the palace again, “I won’t say one voluntary word to you for the duration of our lives.”
The stables were clean and impeccably-kept, and the lights you’d seen were still on when you arrived. You stepped inside to find that only one of the stables was occupied, by a tall, sturdy, black stallion. He was contentedly munching on something in a metal bucket hanging off of the side of the cubicle.
Someone watched the horse, leaning with his back against the opposite stall door. His ankles were crossed, as well as his arms, and he looked deep in thought. His raven hair hung in his face, unruly and thick. His gray shirt was unfastened, hanging open at his sides, barely holding onto his shoulders. His tight green leggings were tucked into shin-high leather riding boots. He had a tattoo of an ouroboros winding about his chest, just below his razor-sharp clavicle. You swore it was moving very slowly, slithering about the man’s chest in an infinity loop. 
There was a quality to his profile that immediately stopped you in your path. It was intimidating, but also attractive, as if he was posing for a painting but trying to look candid at once. Upon hearing the shuffling of your boots on the hay-lined floor, the young man lifted his gaze to meet yours, and his blue eyes lit up. 
Looking upon his face only added to the haunting, yet rustic beauty of the man. His jaw was angular, his lips perfectly plump and distorted into an amused smile at seeing your face.
“Princess,” he mumbled, his voice low and casual. “You’re a long way from your chambers.” 
You rolled your eyes. “How do you know me? We’ve never met.”
He scoffed in reaction. “Everyone in the palace knows of the lovely future Princess of Asgard. I may be just another peasant among the ranks, but I’m not as dim as most of them.”
“You certainly have the arrogance of the Prince,” you sneered back. “I did not mean to suggest that you’re simple.” 
The mysterious stranger raised his eyebrow and pushed off from the wall with his shoulder. “You’ve met him?”
Shaking your head, you looked to the side sheepishly. “No.”
“Still?” chuckled the boy, taking another step toward you, but planting himself there. “And you have not tried seeking him out?”
“It isn’t protocol for me to summon him,” you sighed. “It would be considered stepping out of line.”
“Well, from my experience,” said the peasant, “Stepping out of line is the quickest way to get what you want.” 
You looked at him again. “I suppose being judged so harshly without having the chance to even please my betrothed isn’t the best motivator.” 
Your conversational partner shrugged. “Maybe he is simply nervous himself? Perhaps he feels those scrutinous eyes fall on him as well, and he isn’t sure how to--?”
“--I should have known, you’d never understand,” you mumbled bitterly, turning your back to him. You had no interest in listening to this apologist make excuses for whatever mental game your fiance was playing without your consent. You chose to disengage quickly, not having the energy to stand up for yourself. “My mistake. I’m sorry to have bothered you, stable boy.” 
You began to walk away. “My name is Arik,” the boy called after you, his voice heightened. 
You stopped. He sounded instantly contrite. 
“It sounds as if I’ve thrown a switch I shouldn’t have,” he continued. “Please forgive me, Princess. I didn't mean to further distress you. I was only seeking to console with you a possible explanation as to the Prince’s rude welcome.”
Turning back, you allowed yourself a small smile. It hurt your cheeks to do so after several days of doing very little with your jaw other than bemoaning your annoying situation. 
“Arik,” you repeated. 
He nodded and clicked his heels, standing at attention like a general, and bowing at the waist. “At your humble service, my Lady.” 
You stepped in further, gaining a closer look at the stable boy. Indeed, the tattoo moved on his chest. “I’ve never seen art like this,” you said breathlessly. The details in the ink were beautiful and delicate. Arik seemed to like you moving in and focusing your gaze on his pectorals. 
“My br--Prince Thor has a similar one,” he said quietly. “It is a large bolt of lightning shooting down his back from between his shoulder blades.” 
“How do you know this? Do the Princes walk about the palace nude?” you laughed. 
Arik’s smile widened at your laugh. “No, Princess. I served with the Princes during our mandatory conscription. Close quarters and all.” 
You sighed. “Which means the blasted stable boy knows my husband more than I!” you lamented. 
He laughed with you. “Perhaps it is time The Prince conquered his bashfulness,” he agreed. “From where I stand, he is the one missing out by delaying his meeting with you.”
You felt a burning blush crawl up your cheek at the compliment. “Arik…” you paused before continuing. “...if you do know the Princes so well…could you tell me about them? If I cannot learn of my husband from himself--”
Arik took your hand in his, bringing it gently to his lips. “--if you are asking me to familiarize you with our sovereigns in their pathetic absence, I would be most happy to oblige you, Princess.”
Your heart fluttered against your ribs, and you began to feel giddy. 
“Sadly,” he went on, your optimism instantly dropping off, “my services are required elsewhere in just a few moments.”
You sighed. “Oh.”
“However, if you wished to meet me here tomorrow evening,” Arik suggested, “It would be my honor to take you for a ride through the knolls.”
As much as you wanted to say yes, you knew that you had to turn him down. “The masque is tomorrow night.” 
“Oh, yes, I forgot.” 
There was no way Prince Loki would be able to abandon you at the masque ball set for tomorrow. It was in honor of your impending marriage. Even if you weren’t going to see his face, you would absolutely be expected to dance with him in front of the mobility of Asgard. 
“If only I could leave him alone in the middle of the floor for once,” you muttered bitterly. “I’m sure he regrets our appointment tomorrow night more than I.”
Arik smiled. “I admire your passion. Perhaps, though, it would be prudent to wait until you meet the Prince, to pass your own judgment.”
“He doesn’t deserve you as a loyal servant,” you remarked. 
Arik shrugged. “If you do find yourself in need of more flattering company, I have a small trundle here. As long as the nights are warm, I spend them out here. Come find me at any hour, and I will be your humble ally.” 
“Thank you,” you said tenderly. “I needed a friend to find me tonight.” 
“As did I, Princess,” he said, holding out a hand, brushing a small piece of hay from your hair that had settled. That tiny, intimate touch from another person was enough to make your nerves tingle. You’d gone for such a long time without any comforting physical contact. 
“Then, Arik, I will leave you to your duties,” you said, pulling away before anything even more wonderful could happen. Awkwardly not knowing how to address the strapping young peasant as you left his sight, you smiled and backed out of the stable.
Arik called out after you.  “Sweet dreams, Princess.” 
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He was all that you thought of as you went through the motions the following day in preparation for the ball. You were fitted for your gown, a rich, golden fabric draped loosely over your body and held to you with green and black ribbon. Your mask was green with gold feathers. Your hair was swept up into a complicated braid and laden with emeralds. Yet even more jewels were fastened to your ears and throat, all submitting to the green and gold palate.
Just as the palace was beginning to saturate with the odor of roasting meats and breathing bowls of wine, you were ready and escorted to the Great Hall, where the festivities were already in full swing. 
Even as the room stopped to acknowledge your entrance at the top of the grand staircase, your thoughts were with the stable boy who’d been the first in Asgard to treat you like a creature with a soul, with needs and fears. No one in this room knew a thing about you even as they praised you as their new princess. 
The crowd parted as you descended the staircase, revealing a tall figure dressed in green finery and Asgardian military insignia standing precisely in the center of the room. His hair was slicked back and tucked under a golden diadem, his high-necked jacket fastened from jaw to hip, a lacy black mask curling down his face so that nearly his entire visage was obscured to you. 
Great, even looking right at him, I can’t see, you complained inside even as you bowed cordially, reaching Prince Loki for your first meeting. You immediately got the scent of wintergreen and pine from him when you reached proximity. 
“Princess,” said a deep, restrained baritone from underneath the mask you faced. Prince Loki clicked his heels and bowed formally at the waist, which only made you long for your secret stable boy more. He shared the Prince’s posture, but that had to be from their shared military days. 
“Your Highness,” you barely mustered. “At last we meet.” 
“You sound disappointed,” the Prince suggested. 
“Only at the bitter reception from Your Highness,” you boldly answered. “What Prince treats his betrothed as such garbage as I have been?”
Loki didn’t twitch, blink, or acknowledge your cheek. He simply took the first position of a groom about to dance with his bride with all the restricted grace of a automaton. 
You went to take your position at Loki’s front for the dance. You only did so out of obligation. However, before you could touch his arm, you found yourself stepping back again in spite of yourself. 
“No,” you said. 
Gasps echoed about the room. 
“Princess?” Loki asked, sounding insecure for the first time. 
“You’ve been treating me worse than a scullery maid since the day I arrived. I’ve wanted nothing but to please you and please your subjects, but after being held in this palace like a prisoner in a cage of glass and gold, I’ve come to realize this: you don't deserve my hand. However, seeing as I am being forced to give it to you regardless, I am choosing to retain a mote of my own autonomy tonight by refusing this dance.”
No one had seen this coming from you, let alone Loki.
You sucked in your breath bravely. “If you permit me to leave this annoyance of a party right now, I will consider it our wedding present.” 
Committing to the offense, you spun on your heels and quickly walked back up the staircase as the murmurs and gasps grew to a louder hum. 
“Princess!” Loki was pursuing you, calling to you as you retreated. 
“So NOW you seek me out, now that I humiliate you in front of the assembly?” you hissed as soon as you turned the corner. “I won’t be anyone’s ornament! May you be damned!” 
He eventually gave up and remained behind. You found yourself stomping about the corridors alone, making a beeline for the stables. 
Tonight, the air was even warmer. Your gown fluttered in the breeze behind you as you made your way to the stables, where no one seemed to be home. 
“Arik?” you called, going inside to find no one, not even the horse, around. “Arik? Are you here?”
After a few moments of you pacing up and down the row, and you heard the sound of shuffling feet outside. You rushed back into the open night, and sure enough, Arik was returning, the black stallion bridled and tethered to his side. The horse was already wearing a saddle built for two. 
“My Lady?” Arik called, slightly out of breath. 
“Did I find you at a bad time? You look disheveled,” you remarked, taking in how Arik looked like he’d thrown himself at a pile of laundry and decided whatever garments stuck to his body would create his wardrobe for the evening: a white peasant shirt loosely tied at the neck, and black pants. 
Arik shook his head. “Alvis was startled by a serpent. Reining him in proved a challenge.”
“Then, perhaps he wouldn’t be amenable to the possibility of a ride this evening?” you asked, batting your eyelashes. 
Smiling, Arik raked a hand through his hair. “I think he can be persuaded, but…shouldn’t you be at the gala, Princess?” 
You scoffed, taking the ribbon tying your braid together and unfurling your hair, shaking it loose until every gem fell to the grass. “If His Highness wished to dance with me, he would have thought of this before casting me off like an old glove.” 
He snickered. “It didn’t go well, I take it?”
You shook your head. “I wouldn’t even stay for supper.”
“Well, that won’t do, Princess. This has already been a trying week for you. You need sustenance.” He indicated the double-seated saddle on the back of Alvis. “I’m sure the horse is well now, my Lady. I can take you to a place I know of on the edge of the kingdom, where we can remedy that.”
Nodding enthusiastically at his offer, you stepped up to the horse, suddenly realizing that you’d never ridden before. Arik seemed to be able to read your mind, scooping you up into his arms and placing you on Alvis before quickly mounting the horse himself.
You got the briefest hint of wintergreen and pine as you wrapped your arms around his waist.
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Arik took you through the knolls and orchards south of the city proper as the sun descended and night returned. The shadows of trees along the path fell across your faces as you rode through the lawns and groves, away from everyone else and off into a better place. Arik showed you how to stretch your arms out to pick apples and pears off the fruit trees you brushed past along the way. You laughed as you made a game out of who could nick more treats before being caught and chased along a few meters by an irate farmer who happened to be walking offside. 
You were brought to a waterfall on the edge of the kingdom, where you and the handsome stable boy sat on a boulder, close enough to the falls to feel the chilly mist. As you feasted on your ill-gotten fruit, Arik told you about your intended, and answered every question you had. 
He was beautiful in the soft moonglow. A perfect specimen, healthy and strong, but also brooding and sweet. Ridiculous as it seemed (it had taken less than a day), you were completely in love with Arik. He was more of a god in his humble rags as he sat before you now than Prince Loki could ever be while arrayed in his furs and finery. 
Something bothered you while he spoke: Arik spoke very fondly of the Prince in spite of your criticisms, almost as if he was trying to sell him to you. It was as if Arik could sense your growing feelings for him, and he was perhaps trying to protect you by throwing you off of his trail. 
“Tell me, Arik,” you implored, “Do you think Prince Loki even has the ability to love?”
“Princess, do you expect love to come from your arranged marriage?”
You shrugged. “I was hoping for some.” 
Arik smiled tenderly and took your hand. “If I know Prince Loki, he will take care of you and your children for your whole lives.”
Shaking your head, you pulled your hand away. “That isn’t what I want! I want love!”
“But--”
“--I can’t ever love Prince Loki,” you said decidedly. 
Arik’s shoulders dropped, and his smile disappeared. “That is very sad to hear, My Lady, That notion will only lead to a woeful match. If I know him, he wishes only for your happiness. But why do you sound so certain of this?”
“Because without trust, there can be no love…and how can I trust someone whose face I’ve never seen?” you explained, breaking down in tears at last, leaning against Arik’s broad shoulder. 
He gripped you tightly, and you felt safe in his arms, wishing you could be there forever. “Let’s run away.”
He didn’t respond. You found yourself doubling down. “I mean it, Arik. I could live a thousand years with you starting tonight.”
He pulled away from you far enough to make eye contact. His face was once of concern, of seriousness. “You can’t mean this. We barely know one another.” 
“I do! I do!” you said quickly. “Arik, you see me as not a Princess, but a woman, someone who wants to make the best of a fraught situation. You understand my soul,” you wept. 
Arik looked touched. He pursed his lips as he thought of what to say next. “My Lady, I don’t know what to say…”
“Take me away with you. Let’s go tonight,” you proposed. 
“No, Princess,” he insisted, pushing you away, standing straight. “You are engaged.”
“So, you won’t have me, and he doesn’t want me…no one wants me,” you whispered. 
Arik’s heart broke for you, and he returned you to his embrace. “Eloping would be instant death for us both, my Lady,” he said quietly. “If it weren’t this way…”
“Oh, Arik, I wish you were the Prince!” you cried, laying your lips against his and putting your palm against his cheek. He kissed you back, wrapping his arms around your whole body tightly. 
“Will I see you again after tonight?” you asked softly once your lips parted. 
He sighed. “It may not be a good idea,” he mused, breaking your heart. “Even this beautiful kiss we’ve just shared is enough to condemn us.” 
You nodded. “I would never wish to cause your death, Arik.” 
“Then, let’s stay out tonight,” he suggested. “With the promise that we won’t ever address the notion of running away ever again.”
“I agree.” 
He returned you just before dawn, to the door of your chambers, giving you one final kiss before leaving. Just before he turned the corner to return to the stables, he stopped to give you one more piece of advice. 
“I really do know the Prince intimately, Princess,” he insisted. “And if I know him, I know that if you give him your hand next week, he will give you his heart.” 
You felt a hot tear sting your eye. “I trust you,” you said with a small nod. 
Arik smiled. “Then, perhaps, there can be love here after all.” 
It took all of your strength to be reserved as you closed your door to the last hope of ever having a happy life with Arik the stable boy. 
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As promised, Arik had disappeared, removing any temptation you’d had to seek him out and go back on your own word to bind yourself to Prince Loki. You let the depression settle over you, painting you in a numbing glaze of complacency in your own imprisonment. You were meant to be a shackle on the Prince’s ankle, as promised by virtue of your birth. You would have to resign yourself to that, and be content with that.
Five days later, at dusk, you were escorted down the long hall leading to Asgard’s throne room. You wore a grand gown in peacock-blue, your hair down and loose about your shoulders, a golden circlet draped across your forehead, your face obscured by a veil so thick you needed a bridesmaid to guide you to your palace at the groom’s side for the ceremony. 
Goddamnit, even now I don't know what he looks like, you admitted the defeat bitterly. Your face was stone. You’d mentally prepared yourself for this, but it required a stiff upper lip to endure.
The ceremony was grand, but brief. A cauldron of eternal fire received your written vows to one another, and as the smoke formed the great tree Yggdrasil above your heads, you braced yourself for the moment where Loki would lift your veil and look upon your face. 
You closed your eyes as the Allfather gave Loki permission to greet his new bride with a first kiss. The ambient light increased behind your lids as the veil lifted. You waited in silence for several moments for the kiss. 
Instead, you heard a familiar voice say “Open your eyes, my Lady.” 
Obeying, you didn’t expect the kind blue eyes that belonged to your beloved stable boy to be looking down at you from the face of your husband. Confused, you raised an eyebrow and mouthed, “Arik? But…Loki?”
He shook his head and said softly, “We are one and the same, my dear.” 
“No,” you mumbled. “It can’t be!”
The deceitful Prince took your hand and quickly kissed it. “I came into this match with the same fears as you, my love, and I had to know that you could love me for who I was, and not what my title was.” 
“But…you were so mean to me…” 
The Prince shook his head. “Please accept the grave mistake I made in choosing to avoid you. I thought that you’d already resented me due to our reluctant arrangement.” 
“I wanted to meet you, to know you!”
“And so you have,” Loki said with a tender smile. “I assure you that Arik is in my heart. He was the real mask I wore, in order to have the courage to meet you for myself.”
You couldn’t believe it. “So, now we’re going to go forward and build an entire life off of a charade?”
“You said you trusted me,” Loki added. “Perhaps we can begin there, and with a kiss.”
The line was pure Arik. You were sold.
“It IS you!” you smiled happily, a warm wave of affection making your head spin. 
As the Prince leaned down to give you your bridal kiss, Arik’s lips met yours and removed the last doubts you would ever have. 
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Random Taglist: @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @holdmytesseract @lokisgoodgirl @joyful-enchantress @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @mischief2sarawr @michelleleewise @gruftiela @gigglingtiggerv2 @xorpsbane @maple-seed @loopsisloops
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lokisarium · 4 months
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“I do love nothing in the world so well as you—is not that strange?”
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iamnotbeth · 2 months
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Carol : 79.63% of New asgard It's covered by grass
Monica : that sounds very specific, have you been there?
Carol : ammm.. yep-yeah
*Kamala and monica look at Carol *
Kamala : she said that really weird
Monica : yeah why are you being weird?
Carol :Nothing, we gotta go
*After arriving in Asgard*
Kamala : you married the king of Asgard
Carol : she wasn't the king of Asgard when I married her
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chrissabug · 8 months
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Adorned with elegance and strength, Freyja, the goddess of beauty, love, war and revered queen of the valkyries.
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janora00 · 10 months
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So this year we got Loki
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Glitter Thor
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and Odin at the drums
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seems like family bonding time is going good so far
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gloriousburden · 4 months
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i wish they delved more into just like… the lives of the common people of asgard. like how did they feel that one of their prince’s died, but a year later came back and was now being charged for attempting to take over midgard and killing 80 people? or the fact that jotunheim and asgard were fighting again after so many years of peace? what about the death of frigga, who was their queen? imagine being asgardian and witnessing all of those events in the span of only three years.
if they had anything similar to social media, i just know it would’ve been crazy
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hawkofkrypton · 1 year
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Im REALLY loving how they made Odin a “manipulative mob boss” type, someone who rules with psychological presence, charisma rather than raw power and might.
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A breath of fresh air compared to like… 99% “big fellas” in the series (2/3 of this group included) plus perfect sense Atreus would “vibe more” with him, since he’s never really been one for muscle talk.
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smolvenger · 4 months
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Yggdrasil (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)
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Summary: Your husband, the god of mischief, has made the ultimate sacrifice for his friends, and the world...he lives, but now he is alone...that is until you choose to join him in his solitude and make a life there.
Warnings: MAJOR spoilers for the ending of the Loki series. Angst, but fluff and hurt/comfort. YN becomes a goddess in her YN-y moment. Brief mentions of sex and pregnancy, but no smut at all. Fix it Fic goodness. Canon and Norse mythology is not a code and more like a guideline. Is it accurate? I don't know. And this is fic world. Accuracy don't mean shit. I just want my boy to be happy after all that and do my part as a Loki fic writer after...THAT.
Word Count: 2K
@fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
You walked over to the tree. It was incredibly beautiful. The vines reaching out. The colors are everywhere. The trunk of it twisting, twisting round. The blueness and soft greens that surrounded you. Light purple flowers high up, blossoming. You had heard of it in stories. Maybe dreamed of it once. But here…here in person it was even more beautiful.
“Hello there, Yggdrasil.” you greeted with a smile.
There was a breeze in the wind. It rattled the leaves above. The starry sky. It didn’t feel too cold here- it felt sweet, crisp. An early autumn night. You took several steps closer until you were right before the trunk. Your voice lowering.
“But I know who you really are…who is in there…” you continued.
The search had been long. It had been a month. A month since you saw him. The look on his face, and felt his sacrifice, his steps going forward. Now here it was-in person. Here he was.
It shivered in response. You went up, gently placing a hand on the bark. 
You felt the curves of your lips to a gentle frown. A voice that was not begging…only requesting. Soft, but grounded. As grounded as the tree was though in it’s magic it seemed like it floated where it grew.
“Please…take me to him…it is all I want, all I wish, all I ask for…please allow me to see him…even if it’s only once…”
Was your prayer answered? Even heard? You sucked in a breath, feeling your chest grow tight with anticipation. The delicate lines of both despair and hope on a thin line.The golden band around your finger felt tight- shimmering amidst the dark wood of the tree.
The vines relented. They thinned and opened up- as easily as silk. There was a glowing opening within the tree. You felt it- a stillness. As if you were waited. Expected.
Inside it, you took your steps into the heart of the tree. It felt like the cool mist, the light rain as you walked through-like the light rain that poured the first night you let him into your bed. Your heart raced, your palms clammy. 
Was this a mistake? The wrong one? It had to be…it had to! It couldn't have done that unless… it was really…no- was this it? Would Yggdrasil kill you? Destroy you for knowledge so intimate, so secret?
Branches, vines, leaves- so much wood here. There was a green light that glowed about it, shining everywhere- how perfect for him, you mused. 
Your head turned. Throat going dry and tight with dread, fear. You searched around. Eyes skittering through the thick vines.
You looked around-nothing but the greenery…
Then…there was a voice. Breathy, baritone, low, rich-and it whispered your name in echoes. 
The greenery opened up. You saw first horns. Then…
There, on a throne, surrounded by vines, there he sat. Pale and handsome. He was always handsome to you. Despite the lines of care, his drooping eyes…it was him. You knew that face- caressed it, kissed it so many times.
His eyes then lowered to you. Its blueness seemed darkened, dimmed. Then he looked at you, squinting. He whispered your name again, to you. You felt everything in you freeze. You wanted this. Processed it. It was real- very, very real.
“Is…is that…” he began to whisper.
Tears brimmed up your eyes and you cupped your mouth, as you felt them drop down your hand already.
“Loki it’s you!” you cried out.
Sobbing hard, you ran into him, almost tackling him into a hug. Crying so hard your whole body shook with each tearfall. So much your face felt hot, even as it scratched against his cloak- against the long vines. You felt his hands wrap around you. And you heard him just say your name again- an incantation. A spell to bring you back. A spell that worked. You cried as he held you, the vines around him shivering.
“What…what is it…why…why did you come here?” he asked.
You released the hug. Wiping off your tears with your sleeve like a little child. Your tone returned to the old teasing. 
“You silly man! What kind of wife abandons her husband?”
Loki’s mouth opened, but he said nothing. His face was in awe.
“I came here for you! I figured out how- and I did!” you replied.
He let out a deep sigh. He lifted his white hand, caressing your cheek. You leaned into it, enjoying the intimacy, his touch that you had been deprived of, that he had been deprived of too for so long.  
“You know I cannot leave this. Ever. I…I must do this, my love…I had to…to save all of them…to save you…I…I must make sure…their stories all…all are happy…are managed, well…even yours.” he voiced. His face serene, though a tear fell down across his cheek.
You then took his hand and clutched it. 
“Loki, the many times you comforted me when I cried. Stood by me. Protected me when I was in danger, scared. Saved me, even. And you know how…how lonely I would get in Asgard. Who else would run to my side to comfort me…but you. I shall do that for you!”
His eyes widened.
“But…you cannot give up your home, your life!” he replied.
You shook your head.
“I will make a new one here- we will make a new one here…Thor and Frigga gave me their blessing before I left. They saw how happy we made each others…and that is what they want. I told them what you did. The people you saved…and they’re…they’re proud of you.”
He blinked rapidly, more tears falling down. You lifted two of your hands- cupping his face lovingly. He had no choice but to look in your eyes.
“When we were married, we promised, before the AllFather and AllMother to always stand by each other...I will honor the vows I made on that altar, as you honored your vows to me,” you declared.
The wind rustled above. Inside, there were a few violet buds that dangled, moving slightly. Willing the flower to open.
“My darling….Asgard will lack its princess.”
“A mere consort? No! I am not an heir to anything! A mere accessory to a throne, a part of a painting…and nothing eles? And alone? Loki,  I don't need a palace, gold, riches, and titles…I only ask to be loved and safe…and Loki…you will be alone…now- you won’t be. I will stay by you. We will face this new part of your life together!”
There was a slight grown from the wood. Both of you looked about, your hands dropping. He nestled into the green cloak he wore around him. His helmet perfect for him- never once slipping off his head.
“It’s quiet here…there’s no one…nothing…a life of nothing…but making these stories” he mused.
“Then let me stay…let me help…if only…if only to be with you…I will live here. If not near- then give me access. I will stay here, come by every day. Visit for hours…just to be with you.”
“My darling…sweet, sweet wife…I was alone and I…I don’t have to…”
There were tears in his eyes.
“Thank you…thank you, my dear…”
He pressed his forehead to yours. The cold metal of the forehead touching your own. You only held hands. Felt each other- the love in your systems bursting forth.
A vine went to you, grazing against your arm. You lifted a hand.
“Which one is this?” you asked.
“This one…a man named Steve…or Marc…he’s three at once, it’s very complicated….” Loki explained.
You lifted a finger to touch it. There was a ripple. The vines shook, some of them went to you. You wondered…you lifted a hand. It allowed you to touch it. There was a small, reddish glow, it went up and through.
“You just…just…made something happen…something will occur for Steve…he’s about to learn what gifts he truly has…my dear…has this happened before?”
“No- not until now…”
“You think that…you have a certain…gift?” he asked.
The vines reacted in turn. You realzed as you touched them, you could help move these stories. Turn them- touching made something happen and Loki would tell you.
“My dear…you have a gift. One of fate…”
“Then…I guess I cannot leave now. You will help with stories. I will help with fates. We both have work to do.”
He smiled.
“Asgard now has a new goddess…” he said. You went up, and kissed him. You cried as your lips touched. And there was a shudder that went through the trees and rattled through the forest like a wind. 
It was an adjustment. Making a home just outside of the remains of the earth. Fortunately, you knew enough magic to get by. To transport and conjure food. Even gather some from the nearby village. Enough to make a garden, a home.
And every day, you walked out to Yggdrasil. Vanished for hours. Then returned. 
For the villagers, it was odd that a goddess of fate was just going about the streets getting groceries among them. You merely shrugged and laughed it off. 
You said your husband was busy. Quite busy. He had an important job-crucial one. Yet people wondered at you- the mysterious goddess who lived in a cottage by the woods, whose husband never appeared, and vanished into the forest. The forest at the end of the world, mind you- every day and returned with a smile on her face as if nothing happened. 
It was quiet and simple. No opulent balls and feasts of Asgard. But no fathers with clear favorites and tears and bloody battles with countless corpses and heartbreak either.
 How often you polished the horns on his helmet and washed his cloak by the river. Then he would tell you all about what happened. Fates and stories.  You would mend them, mind them. Determine what worked, what did not. And you would laugh and cry so hard over every story on earth of each person you would feel like a rag rung out…yet in a good way.
And you would wrap your arms around him. Sit on his lap on the throne, as you did back then so many times before. Kiss him and nuzzle into him. Feel his touch- remind him through the brush of your fingers through his dark curls. I am here, I am here, I am here. 
It was like being remarried- A honeymoon fortress of oak, willow leaves, and flower petals. The newness of your husbands role, his abilities. As well as yours. But without everything else…no, you didn’t need anything else. Only each other.
It was a month later, you knew the change. You felt it. The suspicion. The inkling you felt since you began your journey. Counting on your fingers from when it last happened, and your journey to him began, the timing was right. The intuition. The small ringing of a bell in the back of your head getting louder, and louder with each passing week. The one reason on the backburner that was never confirmed. And now it was. You both wanted it. Hoped for it. Now, though the circumstances could have never been guessed, you would both receive your wish. The confirmation long awaited. 
On Yule, you teasingly adored the tree in ribbons. Loki inside scoffed, rolling his eyes. But it only made you laugh harder. In Spring, you collect its flowers and put them in vases. In Summer, you cooled beneath it’s shade. Loki made sure your story was hte one most preciously protected, guarded. You made old charms from the flowers with his magic- for your safety and good health. Flowers worn over your head in crowns, on your neck. And in Autumn, you watched as they oranged and swirled. How lovely they were surrounding you as you held each other. 
A year and a half went by before you knew it, as swift as mortals lives. the cottage had an infant girl living in it.  She had dark hair, and your skin and eyes. And she was starting to walk. You held her up by both hands in the grass before the forest.  
“Come along Freya! There’s a good girl! A step at a time!” you cooed at her.
Who knew what her powers would be. What she was goddess of. But here, she wasn’t a goddess. She was just a baby.
She was Babbling as the grass tickled her feet. The loving, green dress you tucked over her. You held her tiny, chubby hand as she experimentally bent her knees. Then she made a sound of triumph.
Motherhood was not going to stop your gifts and powers as a goddess of fate. You touched the vines and turned fates however. But you had to give happy ones to the friends of him. The ones who meant so much to him, did so much for him. For Mobius, you made sure his sons grew up healthy and strong and happy, with long vacations by lakes and oceans. For Ouroboros, you gave him several awards and successes as a writer and the inspiration and motivation to create, pour water into his own well, and never lose the joy of it. You made sure they all were safe and content. 
 You scooped little Freya up your arms, giving her a kiss on the side of her head. She was behaving well- not crying loud to wake the whole village. Needing perhaps a cradle from the vines of Yggdrasil again in Norns Know what time of night if she was especially fussy. 
You walked her again to the tree. She looked out with her wide eyes. One hand trying to touch the leaves, the vines, the branches. A thing of flowers bloomed for her. One leafy vine went over to graze her cheek. She kicked in enthusiasm, giggling in such pure joy.
 You smiled at her and then at Yggdrasil. Seeing the portal open once again.
 Knowing he was inside again- to see her. Meet her. Hold her as he did when she was a swaddled newborn to be brought- for him to just hold her. Despite the great loneliness of Loki’s inital fate, you all did everything to change it. He would meet Freya and watch her grow up. He would see her, hold her, love her. Again. Again. And again. 
You turned your face to the baby with a smile, and then to the portal door and the god of stories waiting inside.
“Freya- let’s go see your father.”
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darknight3904 · 5 months
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𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
A Masterlist containing all my works :)
Click on each individual link to go to each story's respective master list.
𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧
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ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ
ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ
ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇɴɢᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʟɪꜰᴇ
𝕸𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓...
𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕧𝕖𝕝 ℂ𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕔 𝕌𝕟𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖
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ʟᴏᴋɪ ʟᴀᴜꜰᴇʏꜱᴏɴ
ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇ - ɪɴ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴇꜱꜱ
𝔗𝔥𝔢 ℌ𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔊𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰
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ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ
ɪᴛ ʙᴜʀɴꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ - ᴀ ꜱɪx ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ꜱᴘᴀᴄᴇ
ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʀᴇᴠᴇɴɢᴇ
ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟꜱ
🅂🅃🅁🄰🄽🄶🄴🅁 🅃🄷🄸🄽🄶🅂
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ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴꜱᴏɴ
ꜱᴏʙᴇʀ (18+) - ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ
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spockvarietyhour · 6 months
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Hmm. "The Lost Tribe"
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¨I don't want to talk about it.¨
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¨We may have been—´
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¨Steve, no.¨
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¨Caught.¨
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¨Don't you dare!¨
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¨By one of Asgard's most respected counsellors.¨
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¨Oh god...¨
Please send in your questions for this mini-event!
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“A Damsel's Debt” A Dark!Loki x Reader Oneshot
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One unexpected evening, the Prince of Asgard saves your life. Asgardian tradition dictates that a rescued damsel must pledge her body to her savior from sunset to sunset in gratitude, to be his to serve and obey in tribute for her spared life. 
Pairing: Dark!Dom!Loki x F!Sub!Reader Genre: DubCon Smut Word Count: 3.8k CONTENT WARNINGS (18+ ONLY): Reader is attacked & threatened with assault, DubCon, love slave trope, shackles and chains, some knife play, Lusty Loki gets kind of creepy in this one, uneven power dynamics/classism, humiliation, degradation, being bathed, virginity kink/loss, breeding kink for a sec because apparently that's my thing since I got married , this is NOT a love story
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“Blessed Norns, protect me, and remind me to never again take a job after sunset!” 
The Lower Ring was foggy that night. Even the squares, still dense with night-goers, were limited in visibility.  It was a dangerous night for a lone woman to be in the wrong part of Asgard, which, of course, most of the Lower Ring was. Still, you trudged along, attempting to stay within eyesight of at least three different people at a time as you passed, though that was becoming more difficult the further away from the center you went. 
While the palace of the Allfather and the Royal Family stood as the shining gilded centerpiece of Asgard, the bustling city below was divided into three rings, each walled off from the other with a few guarded archways to keep the riff raff from intermingling with the merchants or clerics up above. 
The riff raff like you, for example. 
Granted, you weren’t so poor as to be in constant need. In fact, your business had a small but shining reputation throughout the boroughs. Several months ago, you’d even been summoned to the palace by the King himself to deliver a bag of letters to the military training camp outside the city limits. You’d had the rare opportunity to lay eyes on the beautiful Queen, and the dashing Princes, both studly and in their physical prime. It was an honor you knew you’d carry with you for a long time. 
Also, it wasn’t as if your purpose out in the ominous evening was nefarious. You were a courier, a courier of anything at all (as long as no one asked about it). Once in a while, your cargo was questionable, but those packages usually came with the biggest tips. Those tips fed your four little siblings and your incapacitated widowed mother. 
Tonight, however, your cargo was innocent: a bag of fruit to be delivered to the home of a sick old man. In spite of the benign purpose of your journey through the winding alleys of Lower Asgard, you felt like you were being followed. It was a feeling that stilled your heart as you quickened your pace. 
Soon, your fears began to materialize in the physical plane. You began to see two large shadows moving independently following you from only meters away. Oh Norns, please don't let it be murderers! 
Sometimes, you went on a mission dressed as a man. It was safer. Tonight, you chose to forgo the disguise, instead wearing your usual brown dress and black cape, hood up and over your head and pulled low over your brow. You were regretting it the more you realized that you were being targeted. 
You called out, holding the bag you carried as if it were a bludgeon. “Whoever you are, leave me alone! I have no money! Only fruit for a dying old man!” 
An animal’s growl answered you from a nearby alley as he and two other men began circling you like starving scavengers. “We do not want your money, maid.”
“You know what we want!” hissed another. 
The three shadows closed in on you before you could attempt to dash away. You felt a violent pull on your shoulder as the messenger bag was ripped at the strap and thrown over the shoulder of the biggest of the brigands. 
Screaming, you tried to duck under their legs, but again, you were slower than their reflexes. You were caught at the shoulders and lifted off of your feet by the tallest of the thieves, easily over seven feet in height and 400lbs. He could shatter you with one well-placed hit, and you knew it. 
There was no one around to help, as far as you knew. You were done for. 
Weeping and begging for your honor and your life to be spared, the robber holding you carried you quickly into the alley, followed by his companions, where each one took a wrist and pinned you against the wall. Each angrily stomped on your foot, wrenching another painful holler from you as bolts of lightning shot up your legs. They pulled your feet apart, splitting your legs apart by force under your skirt. 
Oh no, Freyja, please save me…
You closed your eyes, and though you had no talent for magic, you tried to will yourself to safety somehow. 
Instead, you willed a savior into existence. 
You could feel one of the three brigands being pulled away from you. Another responded to the anonymous attack by throwing you aside by the arm, sending you hurdling to the floor, where you curled up into a ball defensively as the third pulled a knife and leaned down, pointing it at your ear so you wouldn’t move to escape. 
It was too dark to make out who your hero was, only that he possessed green magic. A mage? A cleric? No, not a cleric. The monasteries were in the Upper Ring near the palace. 
The lone stranger was able to use his defensive magic to stun his first attacker, throwing him against the wall. Meanwhile, you could feel the assassin’s dagger still at your head, the tip beginning to push down against your flesh. 
Punches were thrown, kicks were delivered, and within minutes, three large bodies were piled unconsciously in the corner of the alleyway. You were still trembling in a ball on the ground until you saw black boots slowly saunter up next to your head. Knees bent underneath green pants. 
A curious Prince’s gaze met your eyes as he examined you. 
“Oh my, what have we here? A silly girl who knew no better than to walk around unescorted after nightfall?” said Loki, the junior Prince, the seidr-caster. He was the slick god known for his love of power, gold, and sex with only the most handsome bodies and faces he could collect. You were suddenly aware of his heaving muscles, stressed after the exercise of dispatching your attackers, showing off his superior strength.
“My Pr…my Prince,” you stuttered, still shaking like a snake’s tail, hot tears nearly blinding you to the point where you could barely make out Loki beyond his most angular features. 
You felt a cool thumb caress your cheek. “Now, now, fretting like a babe won’t do. Let’s get you back to the palace and clean you up before we begin.”
We begin?
Loki helped you to your feet, circling you once to look for signs of incapacitation (thankfully, it felt as if there were none to you). You kept your head down and knees bent in respect for both of your castes. Technically, you weren’t even allowed to make eye contact unless so bidden. 
He must have been patrolling the Lower Ring (though did Princes follow guard duty?), for he had a horse. “Can you mount on your own?” he asked, his voice almost inaudible, yet still holding so much power. 
You were undeniably sore, but otherwise not injured. “Yes, my Lord.” You demonstrated by awkwardly climbing into the enormous black horse’s saddle. 
“Good, yes, very good,” Loki said with pleasure, swiftly mounting in front of you to carry you back to the palace, leaving behind the fruit, the brigands, and any chance of returning home that night.
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Loki brought you directly to his chambers and locked the door, only opening it briefly for a broad, muscular servant to be admitted. The servant was nowhere near as handsome as the Prince, but he was fair and well-formed. His teeth sparkled. He was a perfect specimen, making you wonder if perhaps he was a part of the palace harem. 
To your shock, Loki had immediately placed you in the center of his parlor, colored in dark greens, grays, and golds, on a small stool so that you were elevated about a foot higher than Loki’s head. 
“Take off your dress, girl,” he demanded. 
Your eyes widened. “But…Prince? I…what? I’m sorry?” you stuttered, unsure of what to do, of what he meant. Did he mean to complete what the brigands had failed? 
He chuckled as he made his way to a large reclining chair, plush and decadent. He sat back and crossed his legs at the knee, tapping his fingers impatiently on the armrest. “Are you so simple, child, as to not be familiar with the royal tradition of the Damsel’s Debt?” 
You looked down, ashamed. “Not simple, my Prince. I’ve only seen the inside of the palace once.”
“Yes, and I recall that day quite well myself,” Loki responded. “How…amusing that you find yourself here only weeks later.” His tone mocked you with a hint of darkness, of something more sinister underneath his Princely skin. “I shall explain while you obey me. Undress. Now.”
He was, after all, the Prince. Denying his whim would be death. You unsnapped your cloak and let it tumble to the floor beneath you. Loki nodded his modest approval. While you continued to disrobe, he rewarded you with an explanation. “The Damsel’s Debt is an eons-old ceremony of sorts. If a Royal rescues a creature who pleases him, they are beholden to their savior’s will from sunset to sunset.” 
Your jaw dropped; your skin ran cold. “I am in your debt most certainly, my Lord,” you agreed with hesitation. 
“Indeed, you are,” he affirmed. “And you are all mine tonight, as my rightful reward for risking my royal neck to save your worthless one.” 
The insult stung, but then again, Loki’s demeanor made it almost sound like a term of endearment. The more you spent in his presence, the darker he became. Truly, Thor was the Prince of Light, while this insatiable brother ruled the shadows and eclipses. Loki indulged in the temptations of the night quite often, and it made him a hungry, impatient being. 
“So, I am your slave,” you summarized, finally untying your bodice strings and letting your dress peel off of your body, leaving you in only a corset and shift. He held up a hand as you made a maneuver to remove the stay. Standing up, Loki reached into his back pocket and extracted a knife. 
“You are my slut, and I like to do this part,” he insisted, bringing the blade up to your cleavage, letting it linger as the cool tip dragged ever so lightly across your breast. “You belong to me until sunset tomorrow, to bless or burden as I please.”
Loki tucked the blade under the lacing at the bottom of the corset, and in one graceful flick, sliced the entire thing open, ripping it off your chest and throwing it aside, leaving only the see-through shift.
“If you don’t fight me, if you do as I command, I will bless you. If you refuse me, I will burden you.”
Loki stood back to take a deeper look at you. “A virgin, I see. I was hoping for as much.” 
You shivered, feeling vulnerable under his intense blue gaze. “How can you tell?”
He looked at you, eyebrow raised, before letting out a hearty chortle at your ignorance. “Your posture betrays your treasure. You’re folded up like you hide a precious secret between your legs. Well, maid, it is time to pay your tax.”
He ran a finger up and down your arm. “But worry not, for as I said, if you allow me to exercise myself on you, you shall be rich for the rest of your days.”
You had no choice. Yet, were there an escape, would you take it? Riches! Not only riches, but your curiosity would remain unsatisfied. Yes, you’d never known the intimate touches of another, but it didn’t keep you from imagining the sensations for yourself. Who better than to surrender your maidenhead to the very Prince of Asgard? Would it not be a badge of honor in and of itself to say that Loki Odinson was the first to claim you from the inside?
“Alas, you need to bathe,” he said. “After all, you're still a peasant. I cannot have my sheets dirtied by a serf’s smell.”
Loki took you, as well as the handsome servant, into his bathing room, as large as the front parlor. It was illuminated in green flame candles, with a large tub built into the floor in the center. The tub was filled with steaming water and piles of soap bubbles (it was a strange sight for you, as you’d never seen a bath with such foam before). 
The servant stripped as Loki quickly tore the shift off of you, and immersed himself into the bath. “Go in with him” Loki commanded you, indicating the tub with a finger. “Let him clean you.”
As you slowly waded in, Loki stood over the tub. He resembled a giant now from the skewed angle you saw him. 
“Begin.”
The servant had clear experience bathing others, for his nimble, skilled hands made steadfast work. They scrubbed the dirt caked on your skin, and raked slippery, scented oils through your hair until you felt lightheaded. 
“Harder, and massage her tits with pumice,” demanded the Prince. “I want her skin as soft as goose down.” 
“Yes, my Lord.”
The Prince’s appetite was triggered when the servant began massaging your belly with soap. “I should make you eat his cock while I impale your ass on mine,  but let’s not get to the entree before we’ve even tasted the appetizer,” Loki mused, the idea itself beginning to make him hard. 
To your surprise, Loki did not take your body in there. He only studied the servant as the pads of his fingers left no inch of you untouched, unwashed. The Prince’s blue eyes pierced you like the tip of his blade. He licked his lips as you squirmed every time the careless bather tickled you. The involuntary giggling made Loki shift in his seat. 
After you were bathed and dried, Loki turned to give the handsome servant another order. “Get the shackles, the gold ones. They’ll flatter her coloring more than the platinum.”
“Yes, my Lord.” 
He casually grabbed a soaked tendril of hair and snapped his finger, instantly drying every inch of you, leaving not a single sud to cover your private parts. 
Loki circled you again. “Yes, yes…” he thought to himself, as if plotting your fate without your consent. “I can’t watch to stretch your unopened cunt so wide. Norns help me, I’ll probably rip you clear in half if I cannot control myself.”
He leaned down to your ear, flicking the lobe tantalizingly with his tongue before saying, “And your body is making it very hard…” he paused, “...for me to control myself.”
The servant returned with a large wooden box. Loki wiggled his fingers as if preparing to play a piano before gently opening the lid and extracting a large mass of tangled gold chains and cuffs. He turned to you and held them up in front of your face. “Yes, splendid. Now, girl, go bend over that table. Magnus, you may leave us.”
He indicated a small side table over by a black fainting sofa. You walked over slowly, leaning over the tiny tabletop and sticking your buttock out. You squinted, expecting a slap on either one, but instead, you felt two cool hands pull out your wrists and lay heavy metallic bracelets connected by a chain over them. He twisted his fingers, locking them.
Then, walking behind you, he gently took your hair and brushed it to the side, giving him ample space to bring the neck cuff over your head. He leaned into your back as he reached over your shoulders, firmly clasping the collar around your throat. It was tight, but lined with a fine fur inside that made them a little easier to wear. 
Each side of the neck collar had a chain. Loki took one in each hand and suddenly pulled back, yanking your head straight up.  You bucked like a horse as he pulled on your reigns too hard. Bringing both chains to one fist, he took his free hand, placing his fingers gently over your lips to quiet you as you began to moan.
“I was going to gag you, but that little mouth is too pretty to stifle, or to stuff with anything but my shaft. Waste not, my plaything, waste not…”
He took your chains and pulled you to a standing position, where he led you like a dog on a leash over to the bedroom. Once at the bed, he shoved you onto the mattress and made quick work of you, tying your chain to each of the headboard posts before raising your wrists over your head and tying those off as well. 
“Now, my little woman,” he muttered, his voice low and dominating, “Be ready to see stars.”
Impatient and not wanting to dangle you in front of himself for too long, Loki snapped his fingers, dissolving his clothes. As you expected, when his dick sprang out for you to see, you whimpered at the size, thinking how he very well could have been truthful about splitting your belly in half. 
Taking himself in hand, Loki took full control of you as he slowly pushed his cock past your entrance and up inside you. The pain was less than you expected, for you’d begun to drip with wet arousal as Loki played with you. You did gasp at the brief, sharp pinch you felt, but it quickly dulled away as your pleasure hormones intoxicated you to anything other than how it felt to be fucked. 
Your breasts bounced with every pound from your master’s hips. When he noticed, Loki grabbed each one in a hand, squeezing them so hard it made tears come to your eyes.“These are so big, oh, a pity your station is so low, you could be a wet nurse for my mother’s ladies’ babes, or Thor’s…or mine…oh!” 
Loki was monologuing more to himself than you as he pounded into you harder, alternating between squeezing your breasts in his palms and reaching between your lips to twist your clit between his fingers until you bucked against him. “Peasant women always have the best bodies to breed. So strong and sturdy…”
His thrusts became faster and more frantic as he approached his fall. “You were broken by a future King tonight, little Miss, now thank me.”
“Oh my Prince, thank you for--”
“--FUCKING you! Thank me for fucking some experience into you! SO that when you go back to your taverns and hay barns for a rolling, you can tell those meager boys that a god has already painted your cunt with his seed. That you were only pristine and pure for ME! That my fat cock turned you into a desperate, needy whore!”
“Prince, my Lord, tha-ah-AH!”
He rolled his hips and slid up further inside before almost pulling out entirely. Alas, he slipped back inside you with enough verve to send sparks before your eyes.
“Submit to me…submit…worship me…drink in my might and shout his name that marks you!”
You felt him pull your head up by the collar, and the act of force brought you to your edge. “MY PRINCE!”
“My name, damn you!” He grunted in quick frustration, stilling his hip as you teetered on the brink of orgasm for too, too long. “Say my name!” he ordered, near shouting. 
“Aaaaaahhhhh Lokkiiiiii---”
You came as he rewarded your scream with a heavy thrust. Keeping himself in you up to the hilt, Loki felt your canal pulse and throb against his dick as your hips quivered. You allowed a long, loud, high-pitched moan to roll from your lungs and proclaim your shameful pleasure to the room.  Hearing your cries coaxed Loki’s seed from him, and with four painfully strong bucks, he filled you until his cum spilled onto the sheets. 
Your master rode the waves of pleasure until he was spent, after which he stood up and observed you for a moment, splayed out before him, a ruined woman. 
You were grinning like a drunk, lolling your head from side to side as the sex hormones flooded your senses. Loki snickered. “Pathetic, in the most delightful way.” 
He crawled into bed beside you. “Alas, I’m exhausted, and we still have daylight to look to complete the repayment of your debt to me. I could parade you naked through my father’s courtroom. I could force you under my breakfast table and have you drink from my cock while anyone can watch. I could keep you tied to my bed like a prisoner, and interrogate you with my hands and tongue until you give. I could do them all to you. Perhaps I will.”
You were surprised when he turned out the light, seriously indicating that he wished to go to sleep.
 “My chains, Sire!” 
Loki rolled over and admired you, still shackled and bound loosely to the bed. “Oh, what lovely tableau lies next to me! Here, you may have your wrists and arms back," he quickly used his magic to make your hand shackles dissipate. "As for the collar, it stays on. After all, I never said I would undo you.”
It was too late. You were undone.
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You were still asleep at sunrise, but Loki was rudely jolted awake by a knock on his front door, beyond the parlor. Getting up and wrapping a green satin robe about his naked body, he sped to the door, careful not to wake you. You would need your energy for breakfast, after all. It was worth it to allow you another few hours of genuine, luxurious sleep in his bedsheets.
Tonight, a peasant girl slept better than all the princesses in the Realm, he thought, taking pride in his sexual prowess and ability to bring a maiden to climax. 
Upon opening the door, Loki was greeted by three large, familiar brigands, all standing at attention, their hands cupped in front of them politely. 
“We haven’t gotten our fee yet, Highness,” said the leader, the one who’d first approached you. “For the set up with her.” He pointed over Loki’s shoulder in the general direction of the bedroom. 
"And we want extra. It hurts when you hit us!" said one of the others.
Loki growled impatiently. “Visit the treasury on the way out, and I distinctly said NEVER to come here!” 
“Oh, sorry, Your Highness,” the leader said, hanging his head.
“Next time I’ll dock it from your fees, bloody imbeciles!” the Prince scowled before angrily shutting the door in their faces, 
Loki walked back toward the bed, but stopped in the doorway to the bedroom, just to look at you from afar and admire how you looked, even chained (especially chained!). It was truly an annoyance that he had to sneak and lurk about with spies and disguises in the Lower Ring after setting eyes on you, the gorgeous courier from weeks ago, a forbidden trifle he could not openly sink his teeth into. Hiring thugs to make you in need of Loki’s rescue was surely an idea from the fairytale books, but it was a tried and true way of getting what he wanted. 
And Prince Loki always got what he wanted. 
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lokisarium · 4 months
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asgard-pics · 9 days
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I did it
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abby118 · 3 months
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A (probably) speculative question, if you dont mind.
Do you know how many miles long the Rainbow Bridge is from it's starting point in the city/palace to it's end point at Himinbjorg?
I read on the wiki that in the MCU, Asgard is about the size of the continental United States, which made me realise we see only a fraction of it on film. And that got me thinking about the dimensions of the city. And the population and where they live. We know so little about Asgard.
Hey Anon, thank you so much for giving me another opportunity to ramble about Asgard!
First, let's take a look at the view from Himinbjorg AND the palace:
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As you can see, The Rainbow Bridge is very long and Himinbjorg is so far away it looks like a mere dot. When in reality, the structure itself is massive. Here you can see Heimdall standing inside for size comparison. The bridge is also quite wide.
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Now, let's look at Valaskjalf: The palace is ginormous (these pillars right here are chambers, as seen in the scene where Frigga fights with Malekith- one of them is hers, and they can be barely seen when looking from the city's borders)
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The entrance in the lower middle used to be the throne room before they moved it higher up and that is a great example of how big the halls are
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Now for the entrance gate-
This entire section right here is BEHIND the gate.
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As you can probably tell by now, the gate is outside the city.
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Here is the size of their horses for comparison
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This one shows the bridge connecting to the palace
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While I cannot give you the exact number as it is not stated anywhere (not even in norse mythology) and I don't plan on spending my morning calculating how long a horse is and how many would fit lol, I think this is a good way of seeing just how big Asgard is. Remember, the realm is much bigger than the city. There are mountains surrounding it which were not really shown or explored apart from some brief scenes in Ragnarok (but I prefer to not treat that movie as canon on anything else but the look of the realm)
(a post about the palace here)
Update-
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