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strawwritesfic · 1 year

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Loki Laufeyson x Female!Asgardian!Reader: Sunrise

Summary: As a matter of fact, the life he was living wasn’t enough.

Rating/Tags: T (Implied/referenced depression; post-Thor: The Dark World; not canon complaint; Thor & Loki; Thor & Reader; Peasant!Reader)

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Sunrise

Loki could not for the life of himself understand what was so wrong with him. Sitting in a comfortable bed alone and watching the sunlight creep up the opposite wall, he felt a strange dullness settle over him, body and soul–if one such as he could claim ownership of a soul anymore, he supposed. Yet even the soulless felt joy, did they not? So why was it that when he at last had peace that he could feel no joy?

Was this not enough? What was so suddenly missing from his life? Where was he?

Perhaps it was best to start from there. Green eyes slowly dragged themselves away from the dust motes dancing in the sunbeam splayed across his dark green sheets. A bedroom, small and tidy, met his gaze beyond the edge of the mattress. A worn but tasteful bedside table sat nearest to him. A stack of equally worn and tasteful sat books atop it. Loki sat up to run his pale fingers over their spines. The books smelled old, of dust and paper and ink–as old as he felt at that very moment.

His joints still worked well enough, though, and his stomach, too, by the sound of things. Having solved his simple mystery (brought on by nothing more than sleep and mental numbness), Loki thought he should maybe eat some breakfast. What else was there to do, save more sleeping? He would have preferred to not waste what remained of his life like that, whatever few choices he had otherwise–and those were just as few as he had for meals.

That wasn’t to say the cabinets weren’t full. They were, and with perfectly decent food. Loki could not taste it, though, just as he could not feel the sun coming through the windows or appreciate the antique furniture filling the rooms. There was something wrong, something missing. He just didn’t know what.

A knock on the wooden front door interrupted Loki’s attempts to work the puzzle out. Having no intention of letting whoever it was in, he did not get up from his place at the kitchen table.

Of course, Thor just opened the door anyway. That he smiled while he did it was simply a further annoyance.

“I suppose since you have me under house arrest, you think you can just barge in here whenever you want,” Loki observed. His voice lacked its usual tone of derision, but still served the purpose of smacking the grin off his adopted brother’s face.

“It is not house arrest, Brother,” Thor replied as he sat down–uninvited–in the chair opposite Loki. “You are free to come and go as you please.”

“But not to the palace, nor to the stables, nor to the armory, nor to anywhere else worth going.”

“You are as free as I could arrange you being.”

“Yes, I’m sure you tried very hard.”

“It is what Mother would have wanted.”

“She would not have wanted me caged.”

“She would not have wanted you to usurp the throne, as you have in my absence numerous times!”

Even getting Thor riled up did not have the same effect on Loki as it once had. Instead of watching his face with amusement, Loki stared at his own fingernails.

Only Thor’s sigh brought Loki’s attention back to reality. “I did not come here to argue.”

“Pray tell, what did you come here to do, then?”

“I came to check on you.”

Loki’s face slowly furrowed. “Why?”

“You have not touched your breakfast,” Thor said, just as slowly inclining his great blond head toward Loki’s plate. Before Loki could argue, Thor went on, “Heimdall says you rarely eat. You rarely move.”

“Oh, so now it’s okay to have your men watch me at all hours. Yet you would have me believe that I am free.”

“Heimdall would be watching anyway. You need watching.”

No argument left Loki’s lips. Was he hoping to drive Thor away by not giving him a fight? Loki didn’t know. After a few minutes, Thor sighed again.

“When we got you out of prison, I expected to be throwing you back in within the week. You were supposed to use your freedom to give me headaches with your mischief, not your apathy,” Thor said.

“I am sorry to have disappointed you all.”

“I am not disappointed, Loki. I am worried.”

“Because I have no desire to find myself behind bars again?”

“Because you have not attempted to escape those bars completely. Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m fine, Thor.”

Thor regarded him for several long moments. It was a scrutiny Loki was unused to after such a long imprisonment and the isolation Thor had rewarded him with. If Loki had felt up to it, he would have lashed out until he’d driven Thor away.

Like with so many other things of late, Loki did not feel up to it. He didn’t even feel anything over Thor seeing straight through his lie.

“You’re not,” Thor announced, getting up from his seat, “but you will be.”

Loki's eyes narrowed. “And why is that?”

“Because I did not come alone.”

Thor’s grin was back, and despite himself Loki felt a flash of something: discomfort. Before Loki could do more than blink at this sudden flare of emotion, Thor wrapped his meaty paw around the front door’s handle and pulled the door to Loki’s house wide open.

Standing just outside was a familiar woman with [color] hair and [color] eyes.

“[Name],” said Thor. “Please come in and join us.”

You took Thor’s offered hand and stepped over the threshold–the threshold of Loki’s sun-warmed hovel. He found himself suddenly on his feet, a most unprince-like gape gracing his features as he looked between your shy expression and Thor’s bold smirk.

Silence. You said nothing. Loki said nothing.

Thor heaved yet another sigh as he rubbed the back of his head. “It took me some time to dig her up, but once I explained who I was and she knew I bore her no ill will for her association with you, she became just as worried about you as I am.”

“There is,” for the first time in ages, Loki could feel his cheeks burning, “nothing to worry about.”

“I disagree. What about you, [Name]?”

Despite your obvious nerves, you did nothing more than swallow, then take a step forward. “It–You do not sound like yourself, your--your highness.”

Thor waggled his eyebrows at Loki’s bewildered stare.

Loki, again, said nothing.

You ducked your head. That was more familiar.

Loki could remember: a hot day coming in from a ride, a young woman not of high birth admiring the horses, Loki refusing to let the guard throw her out and insisting on escorting her home himself. He had not known then what would blossom from the exchange. Soon he was riding his horse to see her every week, thinking of her smile over family dinners, and sharing secrets with her that he spoke of to no one else.

But that had been another lifetime, another man entirely.

“I do not have to stay if you find my presence displeasing,” you said in a rush. “If you wish, I can–”

“No!” Loki burst out.

So long feeling nothing, and now he felt this: shaky, embarrassed, flustered, and so very, very annoyed at Thor grinning at him behind your back. Loki took a deep breath to try to steady himself; his knuckles gripped the back of his chair.

All the while, you watched, with those [color] eyes Loki had almost forgotten.

“You are here. You might as well stay. It has been…a long while since I have had conversation. Good conversation,” he added as his eyes met Thor’s.

This only caused Thor’s grin to grow wider still. Obviously Loki wasn’t to win anything that day. However, this did get the King of Asgard to release you, something Loki noted you greeted with relief.

“I will take my leave, then,” said Thor in his migraine-inducing voice, then more gently said to you,” You are free to come and go as you please, as decreed by Thor Odinson, King of the Realm–not his younger brother, who may no longer claim a royal title.”

With this last poor attempt at a friendly barb, Thor swept out of Loki’s cottage. Loki watched him go, then stared at the closed door. Thor had left. He was gone. Now Loki was all alone with…

“Your higness?”

To add to just how undignified the whole situation was, Loki nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of your voice. You were too close all of sudden, having apparently crossed the room while his thoughts were elsewhere. His heartbeat sped, a sensation so foreign that he wondered if he ought not lie down. This could all be some horrible fever dream. After all, he had never thought it possible that he could look into those eyes again. A girl of such low birth–even a girl that appreciated horses–had no business being the consort of the Realm’s future ruler. He had had such grand dreams. Now all of those dreams were dashed to pieces.

Slowly, as if in a dream, Loki lifted a finger to your cheek. You did not move. You did not disappear either. You were real, solid, somehow forgiving. He felt his lips lift in a slim smile.

“No,” he said. “Thor’s right. It’s just Loki now. Like it always should have been.”

Tears filled your eyes, but perhaps you were feeling a plethora of emotions, too, because then you smiled in return. Only then–not when he was briefly king, not when he was free of prison, and not when he finally got out from underneath Odin’s roof–did Loki realize what he’d been missing all along. Only then did the sun rise again on Loki’s hopes and dreams.

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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years

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Camping

Summary: Loki and you have been dating for a while. He has planned a suprise camping trip. Warnings: Smut Word count: 2.255 words A/N: Thanks so much for reading it. Decided to write Loki a little soft this time, since I was feeling romantic. If you have any ideas or suggestions, please let me know :)

You heard a knock on the door. The clock showed that it was 12.00 p.m. right on time, as usual. Before opening the door, you looked in the mirror of your hallway. You weren’t wearing anything fancy, just a white summer dress with small straps, showing a bit of cleavage. Not too obvious, but in a classy way. You grabbed the doorknob and turned. Loki was standing in front of you with a bouquet of different flowers. When he saw you a big smile on his face appeared. He handed you the bouquet “you look lovely, darling” he said.

You took the flowers and let him into your apartment. You went to the kitchen to cut the flowers and put them in a vase. Before you did that you smelled them. They smelled wonderful, you felt butterflies swarm through your stomach at the thought that he had remembered that lavender was your favourite flower. “Thanks, do you want something to drink of get going?” you asked him. “Get going, it is a bit of a walk. If you don’t mind” “No of course not, lead the way” You walked outside and you locked up your apartment. When you turned around you saw Loki offering his arm, which you gladly took. “Are you finally going to tell me where we’re going?” you asked. “Do I have to explain the definition of a surprise again to you?” he teased. Loki knew you didn’t like surprises, you were far too curious for that. When he told you, he had a surprise planned for your fourth date you asked so many questions, you were afraid he might leave. But he just laughed at every question you asked him, not giving any hint or sign what he had planned.

Loki laughed at your pouting face and pulled your arm a bit, to have you closed beside him. “Trust me, you’re going to like it” he whispered in your ear. The way his breath felt on your ear made your stomach jump from excitement. “Alright, fine” you fake pouted, giving you a perfect excuse to let your face rest against his upper arm. A thing Loki didn’t seem to mind at all. You walked in silence through the edge of town. That is when Loki led you to a barely visible trail in the woods. “You know the way, right?” you asked him. He gave you a smile “Of course but getting lost with you will be very enjoyable” You walked for about half an hour, making small talk on the way. You told Loki about your week and he told you what he had been up to in Asgard. You laughed hard when he told you that he let Thor think he was a snake for a whole week. And that he exchanged the flagon of beer to non-alcoholic, watching Thor and his friends act like idiots at the end of the night.

He stopped walking and pointed to the woods. “Five more minutes. I apologize, it’s not really a path but it’s manageable” You tried your best to get through it. “You know, my mother always told me not to go with strange men to the woods” “I think if they were as handsome as me, she would let you make an exception” he winked at you, making you blush. The trees started to thin out and you saw a giant lake. There was a blanket spread out with all sorts of food on it, grapes, cheese, jam, bread. Next to the blanket was a tent with the flap open. Inside stood a twin bed with a thick blanket and fluffy pillows. On the inside hung string lights, giving the whole tent a cosy look. Loki stood right behind you, wrapping you in his arms. “Surprise” he said. You were still in awe from the scenery. You turned around so you were face to face with each other. “Loki, this is absolutely amazing! But ehm.. I’m not really a camper and haven’t brought any other clothes” you said.

“I know. I have different clothes for you in the tent. As for insects, I took care of that with a spell. And instead of an air mattress there is a bed, which may or may not be that small on purpose” he grinned at you. You giggled and he pulled you closer towards him. You put your hands on his cheeks and kissed him. Wanting to break the kiss you leaned back, but Loki followed your movement and kept kissing you. You lightly slapped his chest, he broke the kiss “what?” he asked with his most innocent voice. “I still need air!” you said while catching your breath. “Air is overrated!” he argued. “But I suppose we should eat, before the food goes bad”

The whole afternoon you spend with Loki eating, talking, and laughing. At the end of the day, you both decided to go for a swim. Loki even had a bikini for you, for which you were grateful. Until you put it on and saw it only covered the bare minimum. Sneaky guy. It didn’t take long for it to end in a water fight, which you lost of course. But since Loki had claimed a kiss as his prize, you didn’t mind that a bit. It was getting dark and start started to appear. You both dressed in your pyjamas and Loki made a fire. He spends the night talking about the stars and showing you different constellations. Giving you a perfect opportunity to get as close to him as you could and cuddle.

Loki stopped talking and you noticed he looked to be deep in thought. “Is something wrong?” you whispered. He sat up right and shuffled a little bit farther away from you. He looked into your eyes and his whole expression seemed serious, maybe even a little bit nervous. “Loki?” he flashed you a quick smile. “You know those little photo’s we took on our third date?” “Yeah those polaroids, what about them?” you wondered why he brought this up. “Well, last week I was training and apparently I had one of them in my pocket. It fell out and Thor saw, so I was forced to tell him about you. And since Odin and my mother are gone a few days next week, he keeps bothering me to meet you. So, I was wondering if you would go with me to Asgard next week?” You gasped “Asgard? Really?! Hell, yes I’ll go!” you exclaimed. Loki didn’t show any emotion at your over enthusiastic reaction. “Loki, what’s wrong?” you asked again. “Nothing, I just was wondering if I could introduce you as ehm… well we have a different word for it, but you call it girlfriend?”

You were a bit taken aback. Loki and you only recently started dating, but so far it has been amazing. It probably wasn’t a secret that you were madly in love with him, you never were a good secret keeper, or liar. But you were afraid to actually tell him that. The butterflies returned in your stomach and you didn’t have to think about your answer. “Yes you can” instead of the grin you expected you got a sceptic look. “Really?” you were surprised that he was showing his insecurity. He never had acted like this before. You leaned closer and gave him a light kiss on his lips “really” you said while looking in his eyes. That is when the expected grin showed, and Loki pulled you closer to kiss you. You slipped a hand under his shirt, stroking his abs higher to his chest. Loving the way his muscles tensed underneath your touch. Loki got hungrier with his kiss and his hand trailed from you neck down to your lower back. You knew where this was going and couldn’t wait for it.

You put your other hand on his thigh and started to trail upwards. Loki stopped kissing you and looked into your eyes. He was panting slightly and let his forehead lean against yours. “You sure?” he whispered. “Yes” you whispered back. The moment the word left your lips he picked you up, making you squeak in surprise. He laughed at your reaction and walked towards the tent. He gently laid you down on the small bed and crawled on top of you. You were kissing passionately, exploring each other’s bodies with your hands. It didn’t take long for you to take Loki’s shirt off. You moved around so you were on top of him, with your hands on his chest. You felt his heartbeat fast. You sat up right and took of your own shirt and bra. Loki let out a low growl and grabbed your shoulders to put your upper body down. In one smooth motion he flipped you around. Before you had processed what happened he had his tongue circling your nipple and his hand stroking and squeezing your other breast. When you moaned he stopped and start kissing your chest, upwards to your neck and ear. “That is my new favourite sound in the world. I think my new mission is to hear it as much as possible” he whispered to you. That promise gave you goosebumps, making Loki chuckle.

He slowly put your pants and panties down, his eyes never leaving you. There was a primal hunger in his eyes which was making you wetter by the second. Loki pushed your legs slightly apart and started the kiss the inside of our thighs. Your breath hitched and you felt yourself beginning to squirm underneath him. You felt him smile against your skin, guessing he like to make you squirm. He put your thighs against his shoulders and his hand around them, holding your hips. His tongue started to lick your clit. You couldn’t help but keep moaning at the pleasure he was giving you. He was alternating his pace, keeping you on edge. Every time you moaned a little less he would switch his pace. Your hands went to his hair, stroking and tugging while he kept going and going. When you were almost there he pushed two fingers deep inside of you. “That’s it, come for me” he said in a rough voice. You came undone moaning his name loudly. He kept drawing circles on your clit with his tongue, until you begged him to stop.

He stopped and stood up straight next to the bed. You saw a chance that you wouldn’t want to waste. You got up and kneeled before him. When Loki saw you kneeling before him he froze. You stroked the entire length of his cock. Seeing his mouth fell open a little bit. You took the tip of his cock in your mouth, slowly swirling your tongue around it. When you looked up you saw Loki with closed eyes facing towards the ceiling. You slowly took his whole cock in your mouth, setting a slow pace. You almost missed the inaudible moan that Loki made. Spurring you on you started to quicken your pace. Loki started to stroke your hair and moan a few times. He then grabbed your hair and pulled a little. You let his cock slide out of your mouth and looked at him. He offered you a hand and helped you up. He laid you back down on the bed. “That was amazing, but I really want to make you mine” he said. He lined his cock with your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you. He felt you up nicely. It didn’t hurt, but you knew that you would definitely feel it in the morning. Loki quickened up his pace, reaching the right spot inside of you. When you started to moan he began to kiss your neck, biting it to leave a light mark. “Loki, I- I-..” you panted. “Yes, oh yes” Loki almost screamed. When your walls clenched around him and you orgasmed he followed quickly. You felt his cum filing you up. He collapsed on top of you.

When he caught his breath, he rolled of off you. He pulled you close, laying with your head on his chest. You both enjoyed laying naked against each other for a while. You followed the way his abs were formed with your fingertips, while he was stroking your back and playing with your hair. “How exactly did the photo fall out?” you asked, finally breaking the pleasant silence. “Don’t know, accident” he replied. “But if you didn’t want him to know, couldn’t you just lie to him. Since you are the God of Lies?” you asked him. You heard his heart rate speed up and he didn’t answer you. You crawled slightly higher and leaned upwards, so you were close to his face. “You want me to meet your brother don’t you?” it didn’t last long, but you swear you could see a slight blush on his cheeks. “Are you going to keep asking questions all night, because I know a far more enjoyable way to spend it” he finally replied. You let the subject go and kissed him. He suddenly stopped and took a deep breath “I did want you to meet him and him to meet you but didn’t know how else to ask” he admitted. You smirked at him “Alright, now how about you show me the enjoyable way to spend the night?” He grinned widely at you “wrong question, darling” he said while going in for a kiss and squeezing your ass.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki x ofc #loki x you #loki x original female character #loki smut #sweet loki #Smut #shameless smut #loki fluff #fluff

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womenofwonder · 3 years

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RWBY characters races for AUs set in our world.

How I’m going to do this: three things. The first, the city they live in Remnant. This is the least important because that leaves us with only five…maybe six places compared to our world’s hundreds of countries.

The second will be the original of their names, which they’ll have to keep in the AUs, meaning that they need some culture background for them.

The third will be their fairy tale origins.

So to start, Ruby Rose:

She lives in Vale, which is similar to France (I’ll explain why in another post maybe), but technically grew up in patch, a small island off the coast of Vale. I have no idea about Patch’s culture as we hardly ever see it, so I’m going to skip this one. We also don’t know if either Summer or Taiyang was originally from Vale.

We know Taiyang is Chinese from his name, so I’m going to say she’s half Chinese. I also wrote a western au once and really love the idea of Taiyang being an Asian Redneck…so I think I’m going to say Ruby is very, very southern just because that would be adorable.

But if you don’t want that idea I generally see Taiyang being either Asian-American or Asian-French, or Asian-British if your doing a HP AU. Summer is harder to pin down, but Red Riding Hood was originally an Italian fable, so I’m going to have her be Italian or Italian-American.

Weiss:

Weiss is German, although making her simply white America/British would work. I could see her being Russian too in some AU because Atlas fits well as Russia. For American works, Pennsylvania has quite the German population and coal mines, so that works pretty well for her.

Blake is really complicated. From Remment Australia which is culturally SEA (south East Asian), has an English name but parents with a Hindu-inspired names, but neither looking vaguely Indian. I’m going to assume her family are immigrants (as they are in cannon I think) to Australia, maybe even changed their name to help them fit in. Immigrants from where? Well, India is an option, but I like to think Malaysia. They have a large Indian and Chinese population, and I like to think Blake is a mixture of Chinese, Malay, and Indian ethnicities, from Malaysia and immigrated to Australia. And if you think this is crazy or unrealistic, you haven’t seen anything yet. The sheer mix of cultures I’ve seen growing up as an ex-pat is insane. This isn’t too crazy.

For Yang, we already have Taiyang as an Asian red-neck. Or at least I do. Raven and Qrow are going to be a little harder to pin down, but I’m think bandits getting replaced by mafia. Which mafia? I don’t know, take you’re pick. Branwen is Welsh, but I can’t think of a Welsh mafia. Coming from Mistral I would see them as being Triad, not Yakuza because Raven’s gang is famous for being less than coordinated.

If you need a logical reason for Yang having blonde hair, Taiyang could be only half Chinese, half blonde (blonde is race right?).

Either way I see Raven operating in an American city like New York or Detroit.

This would mean Yang is fully Chinese ethnically.

JNPR:

Jaune’s name and inspiration are all French. However his mother does come from Mistral (I think), so I do see him being half Chinese, but nationally French. It’s also funny to imagine him with a French accent.

Pyrrha: she’s Greek or maybe Greek-American with her parents being recent immigrants. Argus seems to Remnent-Greece and her name and fairy tale are greek.

Nora: she should be Scandinavian. I feel like in a MCU AU she’s Thor’s daughter. But she also grew up as a street rat in Mistral, which is hard to fit in our world. Therefore I’m going to have her in America, the great melting pot (and also America seems to be more like Mistral than any other Remnent king with our state system), and she going to ethically Scandinavian but knowing nothing of her culture due to her upbringing.

Ren: obviously Chinese, but I might have him be American-Chinese to fit his story nicely in with Nora’s.

Others:

Coco: we’re all ignoring that she’s based off Coco Channel, so let’s make her a LA girl

Velvet: Australia, because of the accent. Or maybe English because that is her story origin

Fox: he’s difficult, because tribes are pretty rare in modern AUs. But his story could work for various things. He’s one of the few black characters so he could come from practically any African tribe (I’m currently going with Hausa because it’s one of the few I know anything about). His name is based off ‘the fox and the hound’ which is a rare American story, so he could also be from a Native American tribe if you want the AU to be more American-based.

Yatsuhashi: Japanese, this one is thankfully easy.

Sun: Chinese. He comes from a tribe as well, but I can’t think of any nomadic Chinese tribes except the Uyghurs. Making Sun a Uyghur doesn’t make much sense but it will serve to piss off certain people on the internet. And now this is going to be taken down, isn’t it? Oh wait, this is tumbrl. This is anarchy. It won’t. Forgot why I liked this place for a second.

Scarlet: sorry for the rambling there. Anyway, Scarlet is definitely English. “I hope I don’t get sand in my shoes.”

Sage: well, he’s black, but other then that we have nothing to go one. He’s also from Mistral but that doesn’t really work? If Mistral is America as well as China I guess we can make him African American. Or whatever else works best for the AU. He might be Indian too now that I think of it. Or even Maori. Really options are limitless here.

Neptune: Yeah, so probably just American, but does have both a French last name and an Italian first name. So probably ethically American (aka white mutt). Also he lives near a port, I think I’m gonna gone with him being from Tacoma Washington because I am.

Flynt: African American

Neon: Japanese-American because of her meme (it started as part of Japanese pop song on YouTube, the latter of which is America summed up in one invention)

Oscar: Hispanic-American, he just looks it. And I’m guessing he lives in Kansas for obvious reasons. His last name isn’t Hispanic but their could be a lot of reasons for that. Or he could be Native American (Pawnee, Cheyenne, and Osage are all Native American tribes in Kansas).

Penny: well if she’s still a robot she probably stays white, but if you want her human in this AU she might end up being half black as Pietro is, although she also could just be adopted. I guess the later makes more sense, huh? I figure she’s American, with her dad working with a ‘well meaning’ but ultimately corrupt government. Probably living in DC, as that has both the government and the poverty issues.

Emerald: oohh, boy. This is hard. Sustrai is Basque, and Aladdin is a French addition to an Arabian story, she herself is dark skinned with anime features that are super unhelpful for this sorta thing.

I have three ideas. Brazilian, mostly as there’s no South American themed RWBY characters I can think of, and it’s diverse enough that someone looking like Emerald would fit. Secondly, for American centered stories she’s just an orphan with no idea of her ethnicity. Or she could be African, Indian, Pacific Islander, or Hispanic or some mixture between those four. It’s honestly really hard to tell. In my fanfic she’s from Suriname and ethnically 1/4 Indian, 1/2 Creole, and 1/4 Javanese.

Ilia: Sioux (Native American). Ilia means a lot of things in a lot of different languages, and Amitola mean rainbow in Sioux, so I decided to just stick with that.

Mercury: American, white mutt American. I’m guessing New York or Philli for where he grew up, it seems like a place where he’d be comfortable

Neo: the new novel reveals her father lived in vale (btw I haven’t read it, I’m just getting this off the internet) and her mother was a assassin who’s origins aren’t known. She doesn’t really have a fairy tale. So I’m going to go with British or French (thank RWBY thoughts for the first one) although in an American AU she works as just a white American.

Robyn: depends on what Atlas is in this AU, but probably German or American.

Qrow: I already mentioned he’s probably Chinese due to being from Mistral. It’s a bit weird to think of him as Asian, but not as weird as it to think of Raven as white, so I’ll take it. Although I do like the idea of him being American Irish, that’s fun.

Winter: whatever Atlas is in this AU, German or American, although British and Russian would work well too.

Maria: Mexican

Salem: If you want a AU where she’s just a normal person then New England or Italian for her story origin

Watts: British

Tyrian: uh…I have no idea, but he looks white. And he kinda has a British accent? I want him to be southern for the accent tho. Probably just another crazy American

Cinder: her fairy tale is French but her origin is Chinese. Also, Cinderella doesn’t really have an origin, it’s an ancient story with every culture having at least one Cinderella story. So I’m going to say Chinese.

Hazel: American, from the Midwest. He’s darkish so maybe he’s a POC? Part Native American or Hispanic? Idk or really care I can’t stand Hazel

Roman Torchwick: American-Italian, he runs/works for the mafia

Ozpin: American because of the whole wizard-of-Oz-thing or French, because he seems to have come from Vale.

Glynda: American or French for the same reasons Ozpin is

Oobleck: Jewish American (because Dr. Seuss was)

Professor Port: Russian, due to his fairy tale, or English, due to his style

Taiyang: already said he’s a red-neck Asian.

Raven: depending on whether you want her to be white or not, either Chinese or Irish American, like I already said.

Cordovin: Karen

Ironwood: again, depends on Atlas in the AU. Either American or German…maybe Russian

Clover: Irish-American (or German, obviously the ace-ops depend on where Atlas is. I’m just going to do the rest of them assuming Atlas is American because Germany isn’t that diverse)

Harriet: African-American, I guess. It kinda messes with the story because Harriet is supposed to be privileged, which doesn’t really work in this AU, but she’s also obviously black.

Elm: Just normal American, maybe greek-American because of the Aesop fable themes

Vine: Tibetan based on his design

Marrow: either African-American or Pakistani/Indian-American. (I’m personally going for Pakistani)

Klein: english. All butlers are English. It’s a rule.

Pietro: African-American

Johanna: Pakistani or Indian American

Fiona: Jewish-American (kinda random but while she’s obviously white she also needs to be a minority for the Faunus thing to work)

May: normal upper glass American/German

Ghira: Half Malay, Half Indian, from Malaysia but immigrated to Australia later in life

Kali: half Chinese, half Indian, but also from Malaysia

Adam: much like Fiona I’m going to assume he’s Jewish due to him being white but still needing to be a minority. German or American, again, depending on where Atlas is. Or he could be Chinese, even though it doesn’t work with his name, due to the theory that he was trafficked much like Cinder. I’m going with ethically Jewish though

Sienna Khan: Indian

Huh, I actually finished that. I’m pretty sure I was accidentally racist multiple times and apologize in advance,

I’m exhausted and starving and not thinking straight. But anyway, here it is. Your very messy guide to modern RWBY AUs. I swear this was insane to sort out.

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btsinwonderland · 3 years

Text

A Drop of Poison - Ch. 10: Memories

A Loki fanfiction!

Previous Chapter --- Next Chapter

Full Chapter List

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You woke at the howl of the wind outside. It was still dark out and you glanced at an old wooden clock on the wall; you had only dozed off for an hour or so. It was just two hours past midnight, and though you wanted to return to your dorm room, it was too dangerous to venture outside without the invisibility cloak.

Professor Laufeyson had shifted back onto the pillow in your sleep, and there he slumbered perfectly still but for the rise and fall of his bare chest. He laid on his back with one hand above his head, underneath the pillow. The way his face was so calm made you smile. There was no mask, just a gentle expression.

You lifted yourself off the bed to find the washroom. All the professors had private washrooms in their quarters, so your search ended after a quick dash up the staircase. When you completed your trip, you returned to Professor Laufeyson’s bedroom.

One passing glance at his desk made you stop. There was a drawer you opened before that intrigued you when you were searching for bandages. You walked over to the desk and your fingers hesitated above the handle. It was not good to snoop and you should be going back to bed. With him. You gulped.

Any sleep that you felt before now evaded you. Your arms and legs felt sore from branches whipping you in the forest. At the time you felt nothing since there was so much adrenaline in your body, but after that your body ached. And amidst the pain, any dreams you remembered from the last hour were filled with bright yellow eyes and bloodstained teeth. A shiver of fear ran down your arms at the thought of the beast. There was no way you could sleep now.

You opened the drawer and once again, an ethereal pool of silver and white faced you. You gazed at it in wonder and crouched over the drawer, trying to get a closer look. For a moment, you thought you saw faces floating in the bowl. As you looked closer still, something pulled your mind into the pool and you were no longer in Professor Laufeyson’s bedroom.

A kitchen faced you, with glossy wooden counters cut from fine lumber and large candles aflame on the countertops. There was Headmistress Frigga, looking years younger, in a yellow dress with her hair down. She paid no attention to you at all, as if you were not there. For a brief second, you wondered if you were back in the book Spells for the Common House Cat. But this felt different...

A young boy sat at the counter. He could not be a day over six, and tapped his hands on the surface excitedly. “Mother, I’m hungry!”

“Just a moment, precious, let me whip you up a nice salted caramel shake, hmm?” She said and twirled her want in a circle. A medium-sized glass, filled to the brim with a brown looking milky liquid, appeared in front of the boy. His black hair shone in the candlelight and his eyes glinted.

Then, another boy, slightly younger than the first, with bright blonde hair, ran into the kitchen. “Mother! Mother! I want a shake too! How come Loki always gets a special drink and not me!”

The boy, Loki, laughed at his brother and took the glass with both hands. “It’s because I’m clearly Mother’s favourite, Thor.”

Frigga turned away from the boys for a moment as they argued, but you saw her expression. It was filled with pain.

Before you could observe any further, you were whisked away into another place.

You were in an empty classroom, and for a second you thought you were back in Hogwarts. But the colour of everything was slightly off, and everything looked hazy. You gasped when Professor Rattowl burst through the door of the classroom and dragged a lanky black-haired boy into the centre of the room.

“Sit down, you scoundrel!” Rattowl said with an awful scowl.

You walked around him to see the boy. His hair was down to his shoulders and incredibly messy, as if he had gotten into a scuffle. It was Professor Laufeyson, though he seemed a year or two younger than you at this moment. His expression was one of youthful arrogance. He threw daggers at Rattowl with a careless sort of glare.

“I clearly won that duel,” Loki said, a smile creeping up on his lips.

Rattowl looked as if he might actually strike him. “You, boy, are a curse to this school! You’ve injured one of our best students with your dark magic! The only thing left of your terrible father’s legacy!”

Loki nearly stood, eyes aflame. “Do not speak of my father with such insolence! Odin is your minister and a hero!”

Rattowl scoffed at Loki. “Are you truly such an imbecile to think that the great Odin Borson is your father?”

“You’re lying!” Loki hissed.

A woman entered the room with a glass full of a brown drink. It looked similar to what you saw previously, but a little more chunky - as if she made it in haste. “Here love, drink this, it’ll make you feel better.”

Loki eyed the glass. “I don’t want anything.”

The woman and Rattowl looked at each other, and an understanding seemed to pass through them.

“Drink it, boy!” Rattowl yelled. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Loki, whose body thrashed against the chair and then stiffened. Loki emitted the glowing green light from his hands, struggling against the pressure that held him down.

The woman force fed him the drink as he sputtered and coughed, nearly choking. She kept whispering, “I’m sorry, love” as she poured it down his throat. The green light of his magic faltered and eventually fizzled away the more he drank.

You recoiled at the horror of the whole thing and even tried to push the woman away, but your hands merely went through her form.

Rattowl threw a tan handkerchief at Loki when the woman left. “Your so-called father is here. Clean yourself up before you talk to the Minister, boy.”

A couple minutes of silence and solitude passed as Loki sat in the chair, alone. You saw his eyes well up and the most heartbroken expression on his face. Tears stung your own eyes as you felt waves of despair emanate from him.

The door creaked open, and you glanced at the hefty form of Odin arriving. You looked at Loki, who had now wiped away his tears and put on a mask of such stoicism that no one would believe he was nearly sobbing seconds ago.

The door shut with a bang as Odin slowly walked towards Loki. His single eye was shrewd and unfeeling.

“What am I?” Loki said, his eyes were sunken in and red as he slowly stood.

“You’re my son.”

Loki glanced at his hands and though they trembled, he emitted a weak orb of green light that flickered out in seconds. He looked up at Odin, eyes steely. “What more than that?”

Odin paused for several seconds. The silence dragged on. “During the Great Battle, we defeated the Dark One. In the rubble of the castle, we found a child. A small child, left to die. Farbauti’s son.”

“Farbauti...the Dark One’s son.”

“Yes.”

Loki looked at Odin with eyes that were wide and similar to a child that lost its mother at a supermarket; hopeless and frightened. “Why? You were knee deep in the blood of dark wizards. Why would you take me?”

“You were an innocent child.” Odin stood with his chin held high, as if he were the only man in the world that knew the burden of it all.

Loki shook his head. “No, you took me for a purpose. What was it? TELL ME!”

“I took you in to show the wizarding world that mercy was a better path than revenge. There was enough bloodshed, and with you we could prove that dark magic is a choice, not something passed down through blood.” At the last sentence, he looked at Loki squarely in the face, as a warning.

“And you just happened to become Minister of Magic a year later? S-so I was just no more than a tool for your promotion, locked up until you might have more use for me?”

Odin frowned. “Why do you twist my words?”

“You could have told me what I was from the beginning, why didn’t you?”

“You’re my son. I wanted only to protect you from the truth.”

“W-what, because I’m the son of the monster that parents tell their children about at night?” Loki said as he staggered back and nearly fell, trying to sit down on the chair. Tears welled up in his eyes and he looked hurt beyond recognition. The pain was raw and unyielding.

However, in a matter of seconds, it dissolved into anger. How quickly he switched to a more comfortable emotion than pain. You looked at Odin, who now clenched his jaw and fists, confirming to you that this habit was something Loki picked up from his father.

“You know it all makes sense now, why you favoured Thor all these years! Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never truly love someone with the blood of the Dark One!”

Odin winced and held his chest, beginning to convulse. Loki stopped, anger vanished, and ran to his father who fell to the ground.

“Help! Somebody help!” Loki shouted, tears in his eyes.

Rattowl stormed in and threw Loki aside. “What did you do to him!”

You cried out for Loki and just as soon as you stepped towards the poor teenage boy, now crumpled on the floor, he disappeared in a swirl of blue and grey.

Once again, you were taken away, and then landed in a very unfamiliar place.

It was a room with black tiled floors, walls, and ceilings. There were two large boxes of seats at the end of the room with a tall bench in the middle. In the centre there was a tiny podium surrounded by piles and piles of papers and files on various desks riddled around the room.

Odin sat atop the centre bench, above everything, with a mallet beside him. He looked furious and his visible eye blazed with anger. The centre podium was empty while the surrounding desks and tables were occupied with witches and wizards typing on typewriters and writing in notebooks fervently. The boxes along the side walls were filled with several witches and wizards, all speaking at the same time, whispering and gasping.

“Order! We will have order!” Odin roared, mallet hitting the bench once. The group silenced immediately.

The floor beneath the small podium opened up and there emerged Loki, slightly older and more deranged looking. He rose from a pedestal on the floor, wrapped up in chains from his feet, to his hands, all the way to his neck. The skin under his eyes was purple and bruised looking from lack of sleep; he had a cut on his lip as if someone had punched him; and his clothes were burnt and charred in some spots. He looked a complete mess.

Loki gazed around the room and laughed. His laugh only faltered when he glanced at Frigga near the back. He turned towards to Odin. “I really don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

Odin looked down at him from the bench. “Do you truly not feel the gravity of your crimes? Wherever you go there is death, destruction and ruin.”

“I went down to the muggle realm to rule - er - manage them as a benevolent god. Just like you.”

“We are not gods, we are born, we live, we die just as muggles do.”

Loki leaned forward. “Give or take a bit of magic.”

“All this because Loki desires power?”

Loki stopped smiling and nearly growled the words. “It is what I was meant for!”

Odin glowered at him. “You were meant to die! As a child, cast out in the ruins of a broken kingdom. If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now to hate me.”

Loki was silent at Odin’s remark and his mask returned. It was cold as he received the sentence from his father.

“You will be sent to Azkaban for your crimes, Loki Laufeyson, for the disturbance of a muggle gathering; revealing the existence of magic to muggles; endangering muggle lives; and…” Odin paused to take a breath, “for the murder of Ministry auror, Tyr Reyja, with the use of the forbidden killing curse.”

You felt like your head was going to split open. “No more, no more!” you said, clasping your ears.

You were sucked out, and you yelled as it felt as though your mind was being ripped apart.

You slammed back against the wall and fell on the floor as you checked your surroundings. It was Professor Laufeyson’s bedroom, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You shut the drawer with your foot and slowly got up, though your head was swimming. It was similar to the book, but you recalled Heimdall discussing the Pensieve: a well of memories for a wizard to file away for their personal review at their leisure.

A part of you felt ashamed at what you saw, but your heart mostly ached for him. You rose and walked over to the bed. His gentle face reminded you so much of that little boy waiting for his mother to give him a meal. The last thing you saw was the murder sentence. It hung over you like the poisoned tip of a sword. The man you saw now did not seem like a murderer, though he was extremely unpredictable.

You laid beside him, and he stirred at your movements. His eyes slowly opened, and he caught you staring at him. “Should you not be sleeping?” He said dreamily.

“I-I was having nightmares about Fenris.” That’s partially true, you thought guiltily.

“Oh, don’t worry about that shaggy beast,” he closed his eyes and grabbed your waist, dragging you right up against his body. You turned to face away from him as your heart pounded loudly in your chest and he encased your body and wrapped his arm around you, just above your chest. His warm breath blew against the back of your neck and your insides quivered. “You’re safe now,” he whispered, and you felt his lips brush your shoulder as he spoke.

Butterflies flew up your throat, and you stiffened. But being in his arms, and feeling his warm body gripping you, made you feel...surprisingly happy. It was not a feeling you were familiar with, but as your heart raced, you gradually fell asleep and, suffice to say, had much better dreams.

------------------- Post chapter comments

I definitely was going to schedule this for Wednesday but messed something up, so you get it one day earlier! lol. Enjoy ;)

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speechlessxx · 4 years

Text

Bring Him Light - Prologue (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The Princess of York is to be sent away to marry the Brooken King.

Warnings: Steve’s not in this chapter. Patriarchy. Tony’s not winning father of the year. Possible Dark Themes (in the future).

Word Count: 1.8k

This was gonna be longer, but I wanted y’alls opinion before I went ahead and made this a series.

Hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what y’all think.

Bring Him Light Masterlist

(The gif isn’t mine and it’s kinkier than i wanted it to be sorry... no bondage in this one)

Next Part ->

The coarse ropes dug into your skin as you twisted and turned your wrists in hopes to loosen the knot. You were sure they’d leave marks. You bit your lip to suppress the pained whimper that threatened to escape but paid no attention to the tears that rolled down your cheeks. It wasn’t as if your captor would’ve seen. The burlap sack over your head made sure of that.

Every time the cart jostled due to the uneven roads, you felt the crops – your travel companions as it seemed – roll around, often smacking against you. You tried to reach backwards with your bound wrists, searching for an arrow in your quiver. But it seemed as if your captor had rid you of them.

You felt the dirt on your skin. It was all over your legs and feet – you had forgone your shoes, the heels would’ve made your escape twice as difficult. The earth had settled itself into your pores and between your toes, leaving an uncomfortable feeling that made you cringe.

As the ride became smoother, you knew you were closer to the castle. You stopped fumbling with your bound wrists and rested your head against the back of the cart in defeat. There was no use in trying to escape. You lost your chance. No one would let you go now.

Soon the cart had stopped altogether and the rider – your captor – had retrieved you, carrying you in his arms. You were exhausted. All the fight in you had been extinguished in your attempt to flee. It had been at least two days since you’ve last eaten. You couldn’t even remember if you gave yourself an opportunity to fall asleep.

“Your majesty!” The man carrying you bellowed out as you heard doors open. “I’ve brought you a gift.” The man had put you down and though you couldn’t find the strength to stand, you tried your best to steady yourself. The bag had been removed from your head – you were sure your hair was a mess – but you kept your glare as you stood your ground. The man handed the king a broken piece of wood and you felt your stomach drop in realization. “I’ve broken her bow. My apologies.”

“Thank you, Thor,” the king nodded. His face was expressionless as he stared you down. “I’ll be sure to pay you well, huntsman, for bringing back my daughter.”

The huntsman grunted in response before he bowed. He left the throne room without another word. The councilmen stood beside your father, whispering to one another as they all took in your state.

Dirt pressed into your skin. The dress you wore was days old and torn from your tussle with the huntsman. Your hair – which was normally so clean and plaited elegantly – was in shambles and stood up in various spots. Your wrists were bound together, and a skinny strand of blood trickled down your arms due to the tight knot. If the men didn’t know any better, you looked like a common peasant – not a princess.

Your face was flushed as your rage boiled inside you. Your father quipped up an eyebrow as if expecting you to scream – to shout and curse at him – but all you did was glare in silence. And if looks could kill, he’d be dead three times over.

“You,” your father finally said as he narrowed his eyes, “sent the castle into a frenzy looking for you.” He walked towards you, disappointment and exhaustion written on his face. “That was incredibly reckless.”

“Little girls tend to be so, your grace,” one of the councilmen chided. The others at his side chuckled. “Which is why they become pretty accessories, not rulers.”

“They say men who are well endowed give their wives sons. I wonder, my lord, why you and your wife only have daughters,” you snapped. The chuckling immediately stopped.

The noble glared at you. He pointed his finger at you and yelled, “you little – “before being interrupted by a woman’s voice.

“My love, is it true–“ the throne room doors opened and you carefully turned to see your mother. Her smile quickly faded the moment she saw your condition – the tattered dress, dirty feet, messy hair, arms bound. A frown settled on her beautiful face before she dismissed her ladies. “Leave us,” she ordered. Her ladies rushed away, but the councilmen stayed. Your mother scowled at the men. “I said leave us.”

“Your grace,” they murmured. “Your highness,” they bowed to you. The man you insulted moments ago gave you one last glare before following the others.

“My sweet girl,” your mother sighed, rushing towards you. She cupped your face in her hands and wiped some of the grime from your cheeks. She tutted before grabbing your wrists. She winced when she saw the blood and the reddening skin underneath the tight knot. “I thought you told Thor to be gentle, Anthony.”

“I told him to do whatever was necessary,” your father shrugged, “to ensure our daughter’s safe return.”

Your mother scoffed as she tried to unravel the rope, but it wouldn’t budge. “She is a princess, and you paraded her in front of the nobles as if she’s some prisoner, tied up like an animal.”

“If she only acted like a princess, then none of this would be necessary,” your father rebutted.

“If you hadn’t sold me like a broodmare, then I wouldn’t have run!” You shot back. You pulled you away from your mother to walk towards your father, pointing a finger at him with your wrists still bound together. “I won’t go through with this. I swear it! I will not marry him!”

Your father curled his lip and he slapped your hand away from him. “You will because it is your duty!” he snapped. “A marriage alliance will unite the two great nations of the north! No one will ever dare go to war on the northern kingdoms – not when we stand together.”

“You were at war with him nearly three years ago!” You argued. “If you want an alliance, draw up a treaty! Better yet, ask the Brooken king to meet you for supper!” You felt tears prick in your eyes. You were frustrated and angry. You didn’t like to argue with your father. “He’ll kill me.”

“Then we will have another war.”

“At the cost of my life!”

“Tony, stop it,” your mother chirped. Her hands found your shoulders as she tried to calm your anger.

“Tell him no, mother, please.” If anyone could get through to your stubborn father and talk some sense into him, it would be your mother. You prayed that she’d be on your side – that she wouldn’t send off her eldest daughter to another kingdom just to be an accessory to a prideful king. She averted her eyes from you to look back at your father. “This isn’t a lesson you’re sending me off to. This is the rest of my life. I’ll be some man’s breeder. I’ll be his whore by law and if I try to run, he can kill me.”

“Then, don’t run,” your father sighed. He walked over to you and pulled a blade from his cloak. Your mother gave him a startled look and he responded with a shrug as if to say you never know when you need it. He carefully sawed through the knot, releasing you from your bindings. “This is for your own good. This is for the good of the two kingdoms.”

“if you need a treaty so badly, then send a bloody diplomat!” You screamed and rubbed at the wounded skin. “Why send a bride?”

“He needs a queen he can trust,” your father said.

“You’re condemning me to a loveless marriage!”

“That is not written in stone,” your mother reasoned. She reached for your father and he took her hand. You watched as their fingers intertwined.

“Your bond is different. He’s a different man than father.”

“If York falls, Brooken follows… But not if we stand together. Do you not understand the threat we are all under?” Your father frowned. “The Mad King Thanos is overthrowing monarch after monarch. His empire steadily grows and I’m afraid if we do not unite the north, then we will all perish. Think of your little brother, Harvey. If I die at the hands of Thanos, he’s too young to lead a kingdom – to lead our men into war and win it. Think of baby Morgan. Your little sister brought into the world only months ago. If Thanos comes tomorrow, do you think he’ll have mercy on her? I can assure you that he won’t. He’s killed men, women, and children alike. He’ll kill her without hesitation.

“Please, my daughter, my eldest. If you will not do this for me – for your country, do it for them.”

“If I die, my blood is not on his hands. It will be on yours.” You spat. “How will you live knowing that you’ve condemned your eldest child to her death?”

Your father sighed. There was no use in arguing anymore. You got your stubbornness from the Stark blood that flowed through your veins.

“Your things have been packed and loaded into a carriage. Your ladies have already begun their journey. You leave at nightfall.” Your father nodded with clenched teeth. He gave you one last look. “King Steven is eager to meet you.”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

King Steven was said to love art. They say he often painted in the courtyard or in the gardens. He collected paintings and sculptures. He’s fond of decorations, they tell you. His favorite decorum was said to be the corpses of his enemies, strung up along the castle walls. A reminder to those who wished for his demise and those who plotted against him that he was and would always be victorious.

He was said to be cruel. You heard stories that he was a ruthless killer on the battlefield – that he wouldn’t stop slashing at his foe until his sword and armor were coated in their blood. You were told he never smiled and from the portraits you’ve seen of the man, it seemed to be true. He was handsome in the pictures you’ve seen. Short blonde hair, strong jaw, blue eyes. But looks could only compensate for so much.

He was married twice before. Queen Margaret and Queen Sharon. Both from the now extinct House Carter. Both queens died before they could give King Steven a child – a son.

You didn’t know the circumstances of their deaths, but some say the king was cursed. How unfortunate and unlucky does a man have to be to lose both his wives? But others have told you a different story. A story that was far more twisted and frightening.

Others claim that King Steven killed his queens.

The servants couldn’t blame you when you snuck away, bow and quiver full of arrows in hand. They even covered for you when you left through the kitchen’s exit.

But they were just rumors… How true could they be?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #king steve #king steve rogers #dad tony stark #king tony stark #avengers medieval #medieval au #imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #bring him light

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stanknotstark · 3 years

Text

Astral Pt. 13 (Loki x Reader)

I’m introducing ANOTHER character :D Morgan is very interesting and her powers are like Kang’s I’m very curious as to who would win in a fight tbh i wish i could’ve written an action scene because she can mind control and OH the drama that I could have played with! You guys are lucky cuz i had something worse written >:D

You and Loki are eating breakfast together in silence. When you finish your plate Loki tells you to grab a book from his quarters, while he finishes, so he can help you research Asgard. Then meet him in the common area since no one is there right now.

Loki likes to teach you and watch your curiosity flare as you read up on Asgard, its customs, how healers work, how royalty works, instead of telling you. It’s the least he can do since you’ll never actually see Asgard in person. He’s a fantastic storyteller but you know he has a weakness, that weakness being that when you truly concentrate on something sometimes you stick your tongue out a bit and narrow your eyes. Other times you look at the book with guileless fascination. Plus, Loki knows there’s more satisfaction from learning on your own. He’s always there to answer your questions and debate with you though.

You walk back into the common area after grabbing the book, Loki looks at you, then a cloud of dark green appears between you both. Before you can react accordingly feminine arms are yanking you into the cloud of magic and you’re in someone’s arms definitely not at the tower anymore. You can only imagine what Loki is thinking. The last thing he probably saw was the book fall when you dropped it. Now he’s probably thinking the worst is going to happen, that you’re going to die, and honestly you don’t know what’s going on. For all you know you might actually be about to die.

You try to wave off the nausea and dizziness following the teleportation you endured and assess your surroundings but someone is roughly pulling you somewhere. Just as you get your wits back there is a tight rope constricting your hands behind your back and around your ankles. You’re shoved into a rocky wall, twisting, back first causing you to let out a breathless grunt and slide into a sitting position on the ground.

Looking up you see a beautiful woman. She stands tall, her chin out in confidence. Her pale, petite face is framed by pitch black hair, the long tendrils held in braids resting on her chest and trailing to her hips they’re so long. She wears a green and black corset that flows into thigh armor that is engraved. No not engraved, made of actual scales, you shiver at the thought of what could have scales that big, nothing from Earth that’s sure. To end her amazing outfit, her green with black lace boots are thigh highs. You can faintly smell leather and something sweet you’ve never smelled before. You’re pretty sure this woman could be a really good dominatrix if she wanted to.

“That was much easier than expected. If the Avengers are Earth’s best defenders I’m disappointed, to say the least.” The woman tells you looking at her nails in boredom. You pick out her British accent.

You realize you’re not in immediate danger and say, “While I don’t mind getting kidnapped by beautiful women I usually like to know their names first, maybe take me on a date before you bring me back to your place.”

The woman chuckles. “My name is Morgan Le Fay of Britain, the world’s strongest sorceress, Morgana. That is until you came along.”

You frown. “That’s a mouthful.”

Morgana shakes her head with a small smile. “Cute.”

“Look I’m not that powerful, I think you have the wrong person, most of the magic I use I can’t use for long because it gives me migraines.” You say while shifting around to get more comfortable.

You finally take in your surroundings. All you can assess is that you’re in a cave, no telling how far from New York City, home. You know Loki could track you down if you could astral project but you don’t trust Morgana enough to take your eyes off of her. Maybe Tony is tracking your cell phone which you feel sitting in your back pocket.

“Such a shame you’ll never discover your true potential. I’m here to kill you, child, but I had to get a taste of what runs through your blood before I do.” Morgana says kneeling in front of you.

Morgana brings a hand to your head and when she touches you she gasps and closes her eyes. You simply watch from under her hand as she shivers. When she pulls her hand away her eyes are bright with curiosity but far away in thought.

“Why would your mother want to kill someone so powerful, I would think having you on her side would be more preferable.” Morgana says under her breath. You only hear her because she’s so close to you.

“My mother sent you?” You say trying to stall now that you know her intentions.

Morgana hums.

“I know my mother doesn’t love me but I never thought she’d send a glorified assassin after me. I’m honored, honestly.” You say your fingers playing with the rope around your wrists seeing if you could escape somehow. “How does my mother know you anyways, she doesn’t have any powers why would she know a sorceress?”

Morgana frowns at you, “I like your humor in the face of death.” She quips with a hint of annoyance at your nonchalance of the situation, “When a celestial tells me to do something I tend to not question it.” You look at Morgana like she’s crazy then you watch as realization dawns on her face.

“My child...You truly do not know?”

You stop fiddling with the rope and look at Morgana with a raised eyebrow. “Know what? And I’m not a child.”

“Your true birth mother, celestial Madonna.” Morgana says ignoring your plea to be respected.

At this you freeze and lose all the breath in your lungs.

Thor was right, you’re adopted.

“It was prophesied that celestial Madonna would give birth to the most powerful being in the universe. Kang wanted to be father to such child and hunted her down. He impregnated her, held her captive until she birthed you. She fled when she had the chance but couldn’t take you with her.” Morgana explains while standing and pacing the cave’s floor. “Kang, who was being chased by the Avengers, planted you in an alternate universe and time. No one has known where you were until a few years ago when you used magic for the first time.” Morgana finishes, stopping and looking down at you.

She gives you a look of pity as you process everything. It all made sense now. Kang wants you to be his weapon of destruction. Why your parents have always hated you and treated you like shit.

“My mother wants me dead and sent you to do her dirty work...Meaning she’s alive somewhere?” You ask trying to not panic with the influx of information.

“She’s here on Earth until she knows you’re dead. Said you’re more of a liability than anything. I’m being paid handsomely for your head.” Morgana says. She then brings a hand up and flicks it. Dark green magic flows and through the smokey magic you see a quin jet then see flashes of Loki, Steve, Natasha, Tony, and Thor talking, concerned and frightened looks on their faces but hear nothing.

“Your friends are near.” Is all Morgana says like it’s an afterthought. She makes the magic disappear and looks at you with determination. “I have a proposition for you, child.”

You’re not really in the position to argue so you nod at her.

“Promise me you’ll hunt down Kang and right before you deliver the last strike on his miserable life you call on me and let me do it. While I love your mother dearly I have a penchant for revenge.”

“Fine.” You say. At this Morgana looks at you, sizing you up, but decides you’re harmless enough and makes the rope around your wrists and ankles disappear. When you stand she magics a gold ring with a square emerald on it and gives it to you.

“When the time comes throw this on the ground and stomp on it with your foot then stand back, I shall appear where the ring is.”

You nod and slip the ring onto your right ring finger finding that it fits perfectly.

“Do not use it for anything else, it is a one time use. If you use it for something trivial I will kill you without hesitation, our deal will be void.” Morgana says, she frowns and without asking places a hand on your head again. This time you feel her magic search your mind and gasp when she does something that makes you feel energetic and calm.

When Morgana pulls her hand away she explains, “Your powers were behind a barrier, I simply destroyed it. You should be able to wield magic without headaches now but you’re going to use your full power unless you learn how to tame it. Do not kill yourself or I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you again.”

You look at Morgana in disbelief and annoyance because she keeps threatening your life.

She gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m truly sorry such a fate has fallen on you, child.” And then she’s gone and you’re left in a dark cave.

You hadn’t even realized Morgana had used magic to light up the space you both inhabited until you’re left standing in pitch black. Without hesitation you light up both fists with fire and start to make your way out of the cave. You plan to contact Loki when you truly know where you are. However, when you reach the entrance you see the quin jet landing in an open field not that far from the cave’s entrance on the side of a mountain. The first person out of the ship is Loki and he is sprinting towards you, Thor not far behind with Steve and Nat pulling the flank.

When Loki reaches you you open your mouth to tell him you’re ok but he pulls you into his chest hard and squeezes you till you’re breathless. Then he holds you at arms length and looks over your face first, then body.

“Are you hurt, did she use any magic on you?” He asks urgently.

“I’m fine, Loki, we just talked, she’s not a danger to us.” You say with a small smile that you’re sure doesn’t reach your eyes because Loki doesn’t lose the concerned look on his face. He doesn’t push it either though. Thor stays suspiciously silent when he reaches you both. He touches you as if to check that you’re real but drops his hand and claps Loki on the back more for calming him instead of camaraderie.

You look at Steve and Nat with a small wave and embarrassed grimace when Loki, Thor, and you reach them as you all walk towards the quin jet. After you’ve told them multiple times that you’re fine they all relax a bit but not by much. You mostly feel embarrassed you were taken so easily. You didn’t even put up a fight.

You’re sitting in the quin jet quiet other than to answer their questions without going into details because you’re still trying to unravel what you’ve been told.

“Why did she take you?” Steve asks, standing in front of you, arms crossed, with Nat next to him while Loki sits at your side, holding your hand. You know he has questions because his fingers keep playing with the new ring on your hand and he gives you looks you can’t decipher. Thor is speaking with Tony in the cockpit so you’re free of their questions until later thankfully.

“She wants me to find Kang so she may kill him.” You say.

Thankfully Loki and Thor had told the group of superheroes who Kang was after the incident with the Growing Man. They told them what they knew of the man which honestly wasn’t much.

At your words you feel Loki stop playing with the ring. He understands its purpose now. He must have used his magic to look over the ring and see if it was a danger to anyone but especially you, sensing it had magic dwelling in it.

“That doesn’t explain why she took you specifically. She could have told all of us. She didn’t have to kidnap you.” Natasha says knowing you enough to know you’re hiding valuable information.

You frown and look at your feet. “I-”

You go quiet and everyone stays quiet too, you listen to the engine of the quin jet and Thor and Tony bickering in the background. You think about how Loki’s hand fits perfectly in yours and is soft but has rough patches of callouses from his use of daggers. You take a deep breath in through your nose, closing your eyes, and smell leather, sweat, and that smell the quin jet emits like a new car.

When you open your eyes you look up at Steve and Natasha and ask, “How did you find me?”

Natasha frowns at your very obvious deflection. Steve answers. “Tony tracked your cell phone but it’s thanks to Loki we found you so fast. He used his magic to track your magic or something.” Steve says uncrossing his arms and shrugging while glancing at Loki.

You look at Loki who raises a brow at you. “Our bond.” Is all he says at your inquisitive look. You nod in understanding.

“Where are we, exactly?” You ask them.

“The border of New York and Pennsylvania.” Steve says. That explains why they were able to reach you so quick. If Morgana teleported you so close that means your stalling is the only reason you’re alive. She planned to make you a quick death.

When Nat opens her mouth to ask you another question you shake your head at her. “I’m exhausted can I take a nap before I tell you everything?” You ask, realizing you’ve got at least 45 minutes of free time since the jet isn’t going full speed.

Nat looks a little apologetic and Steve nods and says, “We’re happy you’re ok.” and then they both make their way to the opposite side of the quin jet.

You and Loki settle into the quin jet’s seats as comfortably as you can. He stays suspiciously quiet about everything but brings an arm up and around your shoulders and lets you lay your head on his shoulder where it meets his neck. When you’re settled he keeps holding your hand but his free hand around your shoulder comes up to stroke your hair. It doesn’t take long to fall asleep.

Pt. 12.1/Pt. 13/?

Tage list: @justfangirlthingies @emelieh99 @high-functioning-lokipath @loveableasshole

#astral #astral pt.13 #loki x reader #loki #reader insert #my writing #loki odinson #sorry i debated writing a 12.1 and didn't know if i could add it without disrupting the flow of the story #there will be a 13.1 though!#anyways i wanted to answer the questions that have been thrown around recently #loki isn't freaking out #yet #he will in 13.1 #lol i wanted to save the angst #but he definitely freaked at your disappearance #no worries all shall be resolved #disregard the whole 12.1 not happening i decided last minute to write something up #i actually might not write a 13.1 and instead write the angsty fluff with pt 14 plot #cuz like if i write a 13.1 it'll skip over the plot where you answer their questions #then if i went back to it in 14 it would be confusing to say the least #so you'll get two parts in 14 :D #disregard the timing of everything when i wrote this i totally forgot about about time even existing so i gave lame excuses XDD

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terry-perry · 4 years

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We Could Be Enough

Pairing: Loki x Pregnant!Reader

Warning: Angst related to Thor: the Dark World and the first Avengers, I guess?

A/N: Really wanted to do something based off this song! And who better to do this for than my baby boy Loki! Set around “Thor: The Dark World” when he’s incarcerated.

“How long have you known?” He asked you, gazing down at your stomach.

“About a month or so,” you answered him, giving him a sheepish smile. He didn’t seem too put off by the news, at least.

“My love, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told Odin and Frigga a month ago,”

“No!”

He couldn’t believe it. The ones he once considered family knew about his unborn child before he did. Then again, they had had better access to you than he had in the last several weeks. Which made him feel all the more guilty.

“I begged him to send you home and soften your sentence,” you explained.

“You still should’ve told me,”

“I’m not sorry,” you argued.

You really weren’t. You took pride in the way you had fought to keep your husband. It didn’t matter what he was or what that made him be. You still loved him. And you told him as such.

“I knew that you would present no fear for the ax. But you deserved a chance to meet your child.”

He conjured up a small, defeated smile of his own. Letting you know that he was happy about the news. Yet he also knew about the possible outcomes. Such as the fact that he would spend the rest of his life in a cell. Hardly the best place for a good husband and father.

“Would you relish being a prisoner’s wife?” He asked you with a disgusted sneer. “A monster that would be unable to provide for your life?”

“I relish being your wife,” you countered confidently.

The two of you were seated in the chaise lounge chair in his cell when you made a show of presenting it all to him.

“Look at where you are all you want,” you said. “But it doesn’t change the fact that we started as two people in love since the very beginning. The fact that you're alive is a miracle. Just stay alive, that would be enough.”

You cupped his cheeks as you looked into those eyes you hoped your future child would inherit.

“And if this child shares a fraction of your smile or a fragment of your mind, look out world. That would be enough.”

“Let’s hope that’s all they inherit from me,” Loki muttered, his eyes drifting to the floor with shame.

Yet you just went on with what you had to say to him. He needed to know that even though you had all the reason to be mad, that you still wanted to continue to love him. Because you knew very well that there was more to him.

“I don't pretend to know the challenges you're facing,” you explained. “The worlds you keep erasing and creating in your mind. Because I'm not afraid of who I married. So long as I can see you at the end of the day, then that would be enough.”

Loki didn’t want to think about this unwanted loyalty; it was all he had left of the real world. But he just felt so unworthy of it. How could this lovely being feel so proud to be his wife and the future mother of his child? All answers given with what you said next:

“We never needed riches or a legacy,” you insisted with that smile he loved so much. “If I could grant you peace of mind while you also let me inside your heart. So let this be the start of you deciding to stay. So you could be part of the family you started. Let there be a healthy pulse that you could be proud of.”

You took a breath after your little proclamation. You had hoped it’d be enough to convince him. And to your relief, he embraced you as he also left a soft, loving kiss on your lips with all the passion he had in him. Time stood still for the moment; you knew there would be things to discuss in reality. But for now, all you wanted was a moment where you could share a form of good new to the man you loved.

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #loki imagine #x reader #hamilton #songfic #that would be enough #pregnant!reader #loki x reader #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #Marvel MCU #marvel imagine #Avengers #avengers imagine #MCU #mcu au #MCU fanfiction

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gmfiswriting · 4 years

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A Stark for sure - Chapter One

A/N: Hey. I posted the prologue at around 2 AM my time and I honestly didn’t think anyone would read it, much less like it! So thank you so much. I hope you enjoy this weird angsty, mysterious (i’m trying to make it be) piece of words. (Also not my gif but creds to the owner.) The next chapter’s gonna be more informative; i promise to give you guys the juicy stuff next.

word count: 1.3k words

---

Manhattan. 2001.

“I can’t be with a man who will love his destructive lifestyle more than his child.” The woman screamed, a hand pointing towards a room at the end of the hall. “God, Tony! Can’t you at least understand why I’m upset?”

Tony blankly stared at her. A simple straight face showcasing no emotion but he was ashamed because he did understand. Last night, he had done what he usually did; paint the town red, spend too much, drink too much, end up in bed with another random woman. “Will you please quiet down?” The man spoke as he stood to get a drink.

Now the lady was seething. A complete contrast to what Anthony Edward Stark knew of her.

Florence. Florence Karla Abreo. A proclaimed neuroscientist and psychologist. Her research and discoveries were known worldwide and awed by many. She was respected for her mind but Anthony respected her for her aura. Her heart. Her kindness. She was his first love. The two had been family friends as their parents were close and happened to live a few blocks away from each in Manhattan. The usual friend-to-lover story; but people change and grow.

“Leave!” Florence cried out and he did. As he walked towards the door and right before he slammed the door, she continued. “I will not keep subjecting myself to this, Tony. You may be the father of my child but I refuse to allow you to ruin Calypso’s childhood.” With that, she broke down in tears before scurrying to grab her things. She moved as if she was running on anxiety. Grabbing bags and stuff only the necessities inside before placing them in the back of her own car. She repeated the action but with her child’s belongings before stopping in front of a door. Breathing slowly to calm herself down, she turned the knob and entered quietly.

Calypso Dmitria Stark. The baby laid in her crib, sleep consumed. Florence sobbed again as she reached the crib, stroking her daughter’s head. “I’m sorry, my love.” The child whined but continued to sleep. She was the female copy of her father in terms of looks. The dark brown hair, brown eyes and when she smiled, you could see that spark only a stark could have.

Florence picked up her daughter while placing an envelope where she once laid. “I’m sorry, Tony.” She spoke to the air. No one could blame her. A mother’s love was one of the strongest things in the universe and a mother’s sacrifice should be the most valued thing. With Calypso in her baby seat and everything in check (their flight to Boston ready), she drove away. Florence drove away from her first and only love, the father of her child, without looking back.

Avengers’ tower. 2016.

Steve Rogers, a.k.a Captain America, sighed as some senator spoke to them about the issue with their latest mission which was utter bullshit as it was just him projecting his opinion and getting him to do what he wants. None of them needed that. It was 2 am as they all sat in those uncomfortable chairs “Well sir, to be quite frank. We saved the world again while you were sleeping with your personal trainer so maybe you should keep your mouth shut.” Beep. The screen went blank as Sam Wilson, a.k.a The Falcon pressed a button on the long table.

A few members laughed and by a few, only Natasha, Bucky and Tony. The others just shook their heads; with Steve sighing loudly. “You can’t just do that, Sam. The asshole is still a government official.”

“The asshole needs to keep his mouth shut, Cap.” Tony took Sam’s side and a disagreement started. Tony and Steve talking over each other with the others either taking sides or being mediators to ensure nothing physical happened.

“Steve. He can’t just tell us what do. We legitimately sav-.” Vision

“It doesn’t matter, honey. You can’t just-.” Wanda

“Guys. Let’s just ca-.’ Bruce

“We just got back from a mission. Can’t this wait?” Rhodey.

“Still. That man was incredibly rude. As the young midgardians say online, he has small penis energy.” Thor

“It’s small DICK energy.” Peter.

It’s still unsure if any of them actually heard any of the others properly. The Avengers were all just talking over the top of each other; some related to the topic while others just babbling on about god knows what.

“Mr. Stark, sir. There’s a call waiting for you.” Jarvis spoke over them all. This didn’t stop them from talking over each other. Tony didn’t seem to care as he continued to argue with Steve, “it’s from a Claypso Abreo. She is being held at precinct 99 in Brooklyn. Do i keep her on hold, sir?”

That name.

Calypso.

Tony froze. His brain stopped working as his eyes shifted to his phone on the table. He gulped before looking at Jame Rhodey. Everyone noticed his reaction; the proclaimed, stubborn, narcissistic jerk they knew froze. “Mr. Stark?” The talking had quietened down.

“Answer it, Tones. Jarvis, keep the kid on hold. Get Happy to come around with the car now please. Also relay this info to Pepper.” Rhodey spoke quickly while gesturing for everyone to leave the room. Confused with this new situation, they all complied and exited. It was times like this that Tony was grateful for having a friend like Rhodey. As he was about to close the door, he spoke again in an encouraging tone. “I’m guessing she’s in trouble so best to answer now.”

Tony hadn’t realised everyone left, still staring at his phone. “Yeah, you’re right...” He dragged his sentence in dread. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he grabbed his phone and answered. Drawing a breath in and quickly whispering, “Calypso?”

“Hey, Dad.” A tiny voice spoke over the phone; an underlying questioning tone included. Tony broke, tears running down his face. Scared. Confused. Anxious. Why was his daughter, that he hadn’t had proper contact with for about 3 years call? She could hear him breathing. “UH, I’m guessing you’re still on. Well I hope you are. But I have no one else to call so if you can just tell Captain Holt here that I’m free to go, i’ll be out of your ha-.”

“I’m coming to get you now.” Tony blurted as he stood. You may not believe this but he loved his daughter. The man would do anything for her. He may not know her but he knew whenever she needed him, rather whenever she asked him, he’d be there.

“Oh. It’s fine, Mr. Stark.”

The man walked through the doors and towards the elevator, oblivious to the stares his teammates were giving him. Calypso. Tony’s reaction. Rhodey’s understanding. The urgency felt. As the elevator doors shut with him in it, Natasha turned to Rhodey who was nursing a drink by the counter. “Calypso?” She asked. Steve, Bucky, Sam, Bruce and her analysed Rhodey. The name made him slightly cringe and shake his head before lifting himself away from the table and towards the stairs.

“She’s...” He froze again and turned to them. “She’s a sensitive topic. It’s not my place to tell.” Resuming his walk to his quarters, the five were left blank. Who was this woman? How can she bring such with her name alone?

The five stood closer to each, whispering the possibilities about this person. “Maybe we should ask Tony.” Bruce spoke up. No matter how many times he disagreed with Tony, he still respected and valued the man. “Rhodes even said that it’s not something he should share. Plus we all saw his reaction.” Bruce insisted they confront Tones carefully and not pry into the situation.

They all nodded but Steve and Natasha gave each other a look. That look that meant ‘yeah-no-we’re-looking-into-this’. They separated, walking to their respected rooms as Sam bluntly spoke, “I’m more confused about some girl being named Calypso...”

#tony stark imagine #tony stark x stark!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #marvel imagine #marvel #mcu #mcu imagine #avengers #avengers x young!reader #avengers imagine #iron man #spiderman imagine #spiderman #peter parker #peter parker imagine

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lokigodofaces · 3 years

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I feel like Thor: The Dark World would have been better if it was originally written as a Loki movie. Obviously, not all the same events would have happened (you can't have your protagonist dead in the climax), but I feel like it would have been better (possibly), just looking at the movie we got.

When I watch the movie, I only watch the parts with Loki and maybe a few with Jane and Darcy. Unless I'm doing a full MCU rewatch or need to watch the movie for something else (analysis, fanfiction), I only watch the Loki parts. Why should I watch anything else? The parts with Loki were the best parts of the movie. And I know plenty others that watch the movie the same way I do.

It's still not the best writing with Loki. And I really do not trust the TDW writers with much. But they were able to write Loki better than any other character. I mean, he actually gets some development general audiences can see. Yes, Thor does change by refusing the throne and disobeying Odin (in a different way than he did in Thor 1), but it wasn't well articulated. You only really notice it if you're looking for it. Jane only has the development of going from sad-because-my-bf-left me to happy-because-I'm-with-my-bf (that you can see without analysis, I love Jane's character and would argue she doesn't have much development overall but it's there). Darcy gets a boyfriend we never hear about again, that's it. Selvig is there for like five minutes, but now he's crazy because of past mind control (but he's not crazy in AoU, and neither is Clint, so this is entirely forgotten). Ian is...there...to give Darcy a meaningless romance...I guess. Malekith is an awful villain, like I honestly don't remember what his motivations were, but I remember thinking it was stupid when I first saw it. Stupid in that Marvel has no idea what his motivations are. Frigga is supposedly a loving mother, but she dies to make Thor and Loki sad. Odin just proves to be more of a jerk. So Loki's the only one with noticeable development.

People say stuff all the time about Loki being an anti-hero, and that's because of TDW. Because he actually made a change. Since the confirmation of Loki being influenced by the scepter was post-TDW, I will speak as if we don't know if he was or not. But he was in the dungeons after a trial (key time for Odin being an a-hole) for something he may or may not have been under duress to commit. The only one that visited him was Frigga. Frigga is killed, Loki takes it hard. He is a mess when Thor comes to see him. He helps Thor and Jane, seeking revenge for Frigga. He dies, except not really, but he thought that was what was happening. He sacrificed himself for Thor and Jane. Then he wasn't dead, and he went back to Asgard. We don't know exactly what happened, but by the end, Loki is posing as Odin. Making Loki not a straight up evil person (he helped Thor, he protected Jane, he died for them, he fought the dark elves when he could have fled them and Thor, he mourned Frigga's death), but still not a goody two shoes. Again, not amazing writing, but it's better than everyone elses.

And when Loki is with Thor, suddenly it's bearable to watch Thor. Same with Frigga, Odin, Sif, the Warriors 3, and Jane. Gosh, if he was with Darcy or Selvig for any time, maybe they would have had better scenes. Obviously he doesn't redeem their arcs or anything, but they're fun scenes or serious scenes or sad scenes or anything we need. The dialogue gets better, the tone is better, the thematic elements are better, overall it's just better.

So it wouldn't necessarily be a good movie for every character. There's still a lot to redeem everything else. But I feel like there was a chance of there being a much better movie if Marvel wanted to not just shove Loki under a rug.

#might come up with an au for this later #loki laufeyson #thor: the dark world (2013)#thor: the dark world negative

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strawwritesfic · 2 years

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Thor Odinson x Female!Midgardian!Reader: Adventures in a Realm Without Divorce Court [Ch. 1]

Summary: It was supposed to be a standard Vegas trip: drinking, gambling, a night out on the town with your best friend, Jane. A bit too much of the first has you pass out–through your entire wedding! Waking up to find yourself married to your best friend’s boyfriend? Not that great. Even worse? He’s not from Earth, not by a long shot. Worse still? They don’t believe in divorce in his Realm, and you never wanted to be a princess.

Challenge: “A Twist on ‘I Do’” challenge by Aqua4044 on Lunaescence Archives.

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: T (drinking problems; slow burn; hate to love; sexual references; jerk!Odin; not woobie!Loki; foul language; references to broken families; references to broken-off engagements; love triangles galore; siblings!Sif & Heimdall; set in between Avengers (2012) and Thor: The Dark World; not canon compliant; Jane & Reader friendship; Darcy & Reader friendship; Clint & Reader friendship; Sif & Reader friendship; Loki & Reader friendship)

Pairings: Thor/Reader; Thor/Jane; Jane/Thor/Reader; Clint/Darcy/Fandral; one-sided!Sif/Thor

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List

Chapter 1: The Makings of Disaster

Never before had you been so thrilled to see the sign that welcomed you back to your home state of New Mexico. As your rented bright red convertible hummed across the the asphalt, you kept your gaze fixed on the haze of purple mountains shimmering on the horizon. The wind whipped through your hair. The flat, gray street beneath your wheels remained empty. You allowed your eyes to slide shut for only a moment; heavy sunshine made the inside of your lids glow red. A gentle swerve had you paying attention again, though you lifted your head ever so slightly to breathe in the breeze and the smell of hot, baked earth. Now, truly, everything was behind you: your fiancé’s cold feet, your abandoned apartment, your notice of resignation to the school president, and the feelings of disappointment and pity strewn among each.

In front of you lay the Land of Enchantment, the land of dirt, the land of sunshine and heat waves coming off the pavement and low shrub bushes covering the flat mesas by the side of the road. Some people might not have found the environment beautiful–you certainly would not have in your youth–but the drastic shift was a welcome change from New England. It was something of a relief knowing those mountains would not get much nearer, and that Jane’s town promised more heat and the color brown. Anything to keep your mind off…Well, anything to keep your mind off much of anything, really.

You wanted a weekend without thinking. Your knuckles tightened around the steering wheel momentarily, and then you released a long breath as you cranked up the radio. Just a few days ignoring the twinges, and you’d start planning what you were going to do with your life afterward.

“Forget it,” you crooned to yourself under your breath. The gas pedal shifted underneath your right foot. Soon the landscape blurred behind you and your voice lifted into the air. You’d figure it all out eventually: where you would live, where you would work, who you would remain in contact with.

For the time being, it was just you–you and the open road.

******

The headquarters of one Dr. Jane Foster was in an usual flurry of activity. It would have to be, seeing how small it was and how many people were then inside it. Jane herself had to admit that even she was starting to feel overwhelmed, between Thor’s presence, his friend arguing with Darcy, and Dr. Selvig whispering warnings in her ear while she looked over her instruments one last time before her weekend getaway.

“Jane, I’m not certain that this is a good idea.”

She kept her eyes focused on the reading she was trying to get while she tried to figure out another reason that Dr. Selvig was, as usual, being a mother hen. Jane knew he meant well, but when she’d asked him to watch her things while she was away, she didn’t think he was going to be quite so upset about her bringing Thor along.

“Why?” she asked as she pushed some hair behind her ear and continued moving. Dr. Selvig sighed and came to a stop; Jane had to turn around to catch his answer:

“Because he just doesn’t understand these sorts of things.”

Jane shot a look toward the other end of the room, where Thor was leaning against the wall, watching Darcy triple-check her luggage. When he caught Jane looking at him, he grinned broadly, but soon turned his attention elsewhere. Only once she knew that Thor wasn’t listening did Jane say, “He’s not stupid, Erik.”

He sighed again. “I’m not saying he is. I’m just saying he’s not from around here and Vegas is enough of a trap for people from Earth.”

With a roll of her eyes, Jane decided to end the fretting right then and there. She looked back over at Thor and, lifting her voice, called “Hey, Thor!”

“Yes, Jane?”

“You promise you won’t get into any trouble while we’re there? That you’ll ask me questions if you don’t understand something?”

“Of course.”

Jane turned back to Dr. Selvig with her eyebrows raised. Clearly, Dr. Selvig got the message: Is that good enough for you? But apparently it wasn’t, because he shook his head. “Oh, come on, Erik! He’s saved the world twice now, what more do you want him to do to prove himself?”

“Not get anyone killed while you’re on vacation,” Dr. Selvig answered. “Of course he won’t do anything on purpose, Jane! But that doesn’t mean that nothing will happen.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” Both Jane and Dr. Selvig looked around to see Thor’s friend smirking at them from his perch in a chair. Unlike the rest of them, he seemed unconcerned by trivialities such as what to pack. Mostly, he just twiddled with his arrows and smiled to himself, like he found the rest of them unceasingly amusing. “I’m coming along to make sure Thor doesn’t accidentally break anything.”

Somehow, even from several feet behind Clint Barton, Darcy heard and answered that statement by slamming her suitcase shut. “What, you don’t think I could handle that?” she demanded as she came up to the rest of the group. He eyed her for a moment.

“Aren’t you like seventeen?” he asked.

“I’m twenty-two!” Darcy snapped, throwing her hands into the air. “And I’d like to see you taze the God of Thunder, Mister Bigshot.”

By that point, Jane was having to try very hard not to rub her temples. Darcy and Clint had been going at it since the latter had arrived via car with Thor four days ago. It was pretty obvious that Darcy thought Clint was attractive, but who didn’t Darcy find attractive? Jane wished that SHIELD had sent someone that at least wouldn’t think loud arguments were a form of flirting. Hadn’t Dr. Selvig mentioned a pretty redhead with an icy demeanor that spent most of her time around Clint? Even if Darcy found her attractive, it didn’t sound like that sort of woman would reciprocate…

“Look,” Jane said forcibly, and every head in the room swiveled in her direction. “Everything is going to be fine, okay? Dr. Selvig is going to man the fort, and I am going to enjoy having Thor around, and Darcy isn’t going to hire any male prostitutes–”

“I make no promises.”

“Should I make sure to look after you, too?” Clint asked.

“Do you want a taste of my tazer? ‘Cause I can go get it out of my bag.”

Jane rolled her eyes a second time and wandered off, the better to let Clint and Darcy’s voices fade into background noise. Maybe if she showed how stressed out she was getting, Dr. Selvig would leave her alone, too. As she moved across the room, Jane looked at her watch. Where were you? Being on time had never been your strong suit, but she thought she might go crazy if the trip didn’t get a move on soon.

“Are you all right?” Thor touched Jane lightly on the elbow as he spoke. Jane smiled up at him, though she winced a little as she did.

“I’m fine!” she said with a nervous laugh. “I’m just…worried, I guess.”

“If it is about what Selvig said,” Thor’s expression was full of concern, “I really do not intend to make trouble for you.”

“I know,” Jane said as she gently touched Thor’s cheek. “And he knows that, too. Erik just likes worrying.”

“I heard that!” Dr. Selvig called. Jane chuckled, that time more genuinely. Her smile seemed to make Thor feel more at ease as well, because he grinned down at her.

“I am glad that the fixing of the Bifrost and my arrival did not cause you any inconvenience…though I do feel as though I am interrupting your work with this trip.”

“You’re not!” Jane said. “This was already planned. You just have really great timing. Besides, it would be pretty boring, you sitting around watching me work all day.”

“Never boring.” Thor took her hand and kissed the knuckles. Despite that being a fairly common occurrence by that point, Jane still felt herself blush crimson. “You are so passionate that I could never find your work boring.”

“That’s–” Jane began, but she couldn’t finish her sentence. The sound of a blaring car horn cut across her words. Her mouth snapped shut; she looked outside to see a bright red car pulling up to the front of building. “She’s here!”

Before anyone could stop her, Jane pushed the nearby doors open and rushed outside. You were only just getting out of the car when she arrived, and when you saw her, you threw your arms wide open.

“Jane!”

“[Name]!”

Without further ado, the two of you hugged, both laughing. The sound of the door opening again announced the rest of the troop joining you, though neither of you broke apart at that. Even when Jane did step back to beam at you, the group went ignored.

“Thanks for inviting me along on such short notice,” you said.

“It was no problem at all! How have you been?” Jane asked. You cringed slightly, but still tried to pass it off as a smile when you answered:

“Well, I’ve been better.”

“I know. I’m really sorry about the wedding. I was so surprised when I heard he called things off.”

“You and me both,” you said with a snort, but soon your smile was back. “But that’s not your fault. I’m just grateful for something to take my mind off things.”

Behind her, Dr. Selvig cleared his throat. Jane gave him a sheepish smile before looking back at you. He would insist on proper etiquette. Jane’s father might have been dead, but he had done a pretty good job with his choice of father figure. She stepped up beside you, then pivoted to look at the rest of her friends.

“Everyone,” Jane said, “this is [F Name] [L Name]. We were roommates in college. She’s a biochemist up at University of Maine.“

“Was,” you said.

“She was a biochemist at University of Maine,” Jane amended, though she frowned as she did so. On top of everything else, you had quit your job? Things must have been really bad for you to want to leave entirely. That moment wasn’t the time to ask for more details. Maybe later, once the lot of you got to Vegas. “[Name], this is my associate, Dr. Erik Selvig, my boyfriend, Thor, his friend, Clint Barton, and my friend-slash-assistant, Darcy Lewis. More my friend.”

“Uh, rude,” Darcy said, though she grinned. “I’m the best assistant you’ve ever had.”

“You’re the only assistant I’ve ever had.”

“Doesn’t change my point.”

“It’s nice to meet all of you. I’m glad Jane has some friends down here.” Your eyes met Jane’s. “She was really shy in college.”

“Well, she’s not shy anymore, I can tell you that,” Dr. Selvig said as he stepped forward to shake your hand. You took his with a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Selvig. I once had an associate that thought most highly of you.”

Clint and Darcy both greeted you afterward, and then Thor kissed your hand. You smiled wryly and looked over at Jane.

“When did you start having all the luck with men?”

“When they started falling from the sky,” she answered. Your eyebrows shot straight up at that, but Jane didn’t elaborate. She still wasn’t clear on whether or not Thor’s identity was very much “secret.” Probably the truth of it would come out eventually from Thor himself anyway, once everyone got on the road.

As if reading her mind, Clint placed his sunglasses over his eyes and looked pointedly at the car. “I know I’m not the one in charge of this operation, but if we don’t get moving soon, we’ll miss our check-in time.”

“I never told you our check-in time,” Jane said, and looked at Darcy, who lifted her hands to her chest.

“What? Why would I tell him? The more in the dark he is, the better.”

“Are we competing to see who can babysit best?” Clint asked with a smirk. “Because you’re going to lose, Darce.”

“We’ll see about that,” she said haughtily. “And don’t call me Darce! We aren’t friends.”

Clint laughed. Jane stood awkwardly at the center of the group, looking between Thor’s pleasantly curious face, your bemused one, and Dr. Selvig’s expression of complete disbelief at the fact that she was actually going to go through with the trip. For a moment, Jane seriously considered calling it off. Between you being emotionally volatile and Thor…being Thor, and Darcy and Clint being determined to go at each other, the entire thing seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

But Jane was, if anything, ever-optimistic. Soon she was smiling again. “Well, let’s pack up and hit the road, then!”

“Yay!” Darcy said, darting back into the building to grab her things. Clint followed her at a slower pace, shaking his head.

“You still have a chance to get everyone to stay here, Jane,” Dr. Selvig said quietly. Jane shook her head.

“It’ll be fine! We’re all adults here, right?”

“I suppose.” He still looked doubtful. “You have my number so you can call me if anything goes awry?”

“Yes, Erik,” Jane said. “If Thor’s brother decides to send down another alien being to destroy the hotel, you will be the first on my list of people to notify.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know, but everything is going to be fine.”

“Loki is imprisoned on Asgard after his attack on Manhattan,” Thor called. He was loading both his and Jane’s luggage into the back of your car. “He will not be able to bother us.”

“Yes, well,” said Dr. Selvig, “I’ve heard that before.”

“Erik…”

“I know, I know. You can handle yourself. Try to look after things, will you?”

“You know I will. And you’ll do the same here?”

“To the best of my abilities.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“Come on, Jane!” Darcy cried. “Let’s get going!”

Jane waved at Dr. Selvig and headed back toward the car. “Goodbye!”

“So, who’s driving?” Clint asked as she arrived. Jane looked curiously at you; you grinned.

“The car is rented under my name, so I’m driving.”

“I call shotgun!” said Darcy, and climbed into the passenger seat without waiting for anyone to argue. Jane, Clint, and Thor made their way to the back of the car.

“Great, that means I get to sit with the happy couple,” Clint said as he scooted over as far as he could go to allow Jane and Thor seats together. Darcy glanced back at him.

“Hey, you want babysitting duty so bad, you can sit there. I don’t want to watch Jane make out with anybody, even if the anybody is as hot as Thor.”

Though his eyes were hidden by his lenses, Jane could only imagine Clint rolling his eyes that that one. Before he could retort, however, Thor clapped him on the shoulder. “It could be worse, my friend. You could be looking after Tony and Pepper.”

A short bark of laughter burst from Clint’s mouth. “Right! If anyone needs to be watched in Vegas, it’s that guy. Let’s hope Nat gets that gig.”

“Are we all ready to go?” you asked from the driver’s seat.

Jane caught your eye in the rear view mirror and tried her best to smile. “We’re ready,” she answered, though not without another pang of nerves about whether or not the entire Vegas trip was a good idea. No one else seemed to feel that way at all, though, so what choice did she have?

“Let us go,” Thor said.

“Wee!” Darcy said, bouncing several times in her seat.

“Then let’s blow this popsicle stand!” you said, and the convertible rushed back toward the road. Jane twisted only once in her seat to see Dr. Selvig watching them go. When you turned a corner, she settled back down, trying to ignore how worried he looked. Because, really, what could go wrong, with two doctors, a political science student, a demi-god, and a trained government agent?

Thor nudged Jane’s shoulder and pointed toward one of the rock formations as you passed. As Jane attempted to meet his enthusiasm with her own, she really hoped that no one would try to answer that question. It sounded more like the opening to a bad joke than reality, and she’d had more than enough of people treating her reality like a joke.

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

Text

Small Time Witch (32)

S I X M O N T H S L A T E R

Vanaheim had been kind to you but it was time to make your next move. Loki had been pardoned on Asgard. The convergence was nigh and preparations for Malekith had begun. Asgard was fortified as a precaution. You thought maybe Malekith wouldn’t bother since the entire universe knew you had the stones. The small council was not so sure. They wanted you locked away in a secure location where he couldn’t find you. You wanted to fight. That’s all you seemed to want these days.

Malekith and Frigga have long been enemies. His brute murdered her when the dark elves invaded Asgard. You would only hide if she hid with you. Being ever stubborn she declined. You didn’t tell her what would happen but, because of your insistence, she could guess. “If it’s my time, it’s my time. I won’t hide.” Everyone in this family was ridiculously stubborn. You fit right in.

Loki fought you ad nauseam about expelling the stones. You refused to even entertain the thought until the convergence was over. He thought the stones were overtaking you. They changed your personality. You argued they just made you stronger and perhaps he was threatened by you. That never failed to spur him into a tirade about how dangerous they were and how no one knew what they were doing to you. The voice in your head told you otherwise. He would prattle on about how they seemed to speak for you. How you had changed. You never listened.

“Mortal are you listening?” It drove you insane when he called you mortal. Just a constant reminder that you were beneath him.

“I am. And I’ve asked you to please stop calling me mortal.”

“Well aren’t you? Are you now unable to die? Have I missed something?”

“As long as I have them I am.”

“And that’s why you shouldn’t have them. Where is my wife? You were not this war mongering battle hardened warrior when I first met you.”

“You prefer me weak? Too afraid of my own shadow?”

He knelt in front of you to look in your eyes. “I have never known you to be weak, Y/N. You were powerful enough.”

You laughed but the smile on your lips never met your eyes. “Just enough that I couldn’t ever take you.”

“Stop it. That’s never mattered to me.”

“Until I became stronger than you.”

He picked up a pillow off of the bed and smashed it into his face. He let out a deep growl out of sheer frustration. “Your new found obsession with power is exactly why I am worried. They need you. They are like parasites and you are their host. You feed them, darling. Of course they don’t want to give you up.”

“And what if I do release them? What then? Do we just wait for the next maniac to use them against us?”

“Then we keep them locked in the vault.”

“Oh yeah, because Odin’s vault has never been breached.”

“Only by me.” He hated fighting with you. Absolutely loathed it. You kept putting off the release of the stones but he wouldn’t give up. You were scared they would fall into the wrong hands. He was afraid they already had. The only other person who was in your corner was Odin.

Loki knew his father all too well. He was not interested in what you wanted but what your power could do for him. He treated you like his own sentient weapon. Your daddy issues completely clouded your judgement in regards to Odin. He doted on you. Called you his daughter. You lapped it up. When Loki or Thor would say something he would laugh it off and say they were jealous that he had a new favorite child. After Asgard was safe, they thought it was time for you to go back to Midgard for a while for an extended holiday. Maybe your family could talk some sense into you.

“My love. My little queen. Please don’t be cross with me. I am simply worried for your safety and sanity. Don’t you want to leave all of this behind? Perhaps we can start our family. I’ve longed to see you with child.”

Your voice was quiet, “That’s not my dream. It’s yours. You know how I feel about having children. Can’t we just go on forever having adventures?”

“Pet, I have had my fun. I just want to start a family and be settled. I don’t care if I ever ride into another battle. Children or not, I just want this constant upheaval to end. I quite liked our life on Midgard. I actually miss television. Why don’t we go back and rebuild our little cottage? Will you at least think about it?”

You kissed the tip of his nose, “I will. When this is all over, I will agree to take extended leave and visit my family.”

—————————————————————

The day Malekith invaded was like deja vu for Loki except he was not in the dungeon. The dark elves were unable to breech the outer reaches of Asgard so they moved on to Greenwich where he and Thor would meet. Against your better judgement (and certainly Loki’s), you jumped the portal to help Thor. You served as nothing but a distraction. Thor was nearly crushed by Malekith’s ship. Had it not been for Dr. Selvig, Thor would have been killed.

Your magic destroyed half of a library and a lot more property. When law enforcement arrived they thanked Thor for his help. You, on the other hand, were put in shackles and taken into custody. Thor tried to stop them but they were under strict orders from the World Security Council to take you in.

You tried to break free for your bonds but your magic wouldn’t work. “Stop resisting, Princess.” one of the Interpol officers shouted. They didn’t have regular guns pointed at you. They looked like ray guns or something you’d see in a sci fi movie. Thor rushed behind you asking where you were being taken. They muttered something about an Air Force base as officers held him back.

“I’m coming, little sister! Just hang on.”

They had you locked in the back of a van that was caged and padded. A thick metal partition separated you from the driver. The doors on the back were also thick metal. Three officers wearing helmets rushed in in a practiced military style drill. Keeping their weapons trained on you, one officer stood in front of you and pressed a button that magnetized your restraints. He stuck your hands to a small but sturdy loop on the bench you sat on. Another officer put a mutant inhibitor collar around your neck while the third jabbed a needle in your arm. “Nighty night, Princess.”

When you awoke your head was pounding. There was a jumpsuit on the small table next to you. On the floor were socks and slippers. The collar was pretty heavy and seemed to grab at your skin when you pulled. “It won’t come off Mrs. Odinson” a voice said. There was a speaker just above the door.

“Where am I?”

“Change into your jumps.”

“Where am I? Don’t make me ask again.”

“Change into your jumps, prisoner.”

You tried to use your magic but only a tiny spark flickered between your hands.

Your cell doors opened and a familiar face stood in front of you. “Ma’am. I’m Coulson. Come with me.”

“Wait. Aren’t you...”

“Dead? As in your husband killed me? Yeah. Something like that.” He stood in the doorway looking at you expectantly. “Unless you’d rather stay here.”

You followed behind him flipping off the speaker when you left. “Can you remove this collar, Coulson?”

“Please forgive me if I’m not super trusting.”

“Understandable I guess. Where are you taking me?”

“New York. Into S.H.I.E.L.D. custody. It’s the only way the US government will release you. Part of the MCA.”

“MCA?”

“Mutant Control Act. You’re an unregistered omega level mutant. Your powers, as defined by the government, are unlimited. You’re dangerous.”

“So when I’m on Earth, I am a prisoner?”

“When you’re on Earth? You think you’re leaving? You belong to us now.”

He took you along to an airstrip where you boarded a small plane. He helped you into your seat, shackled your wrists and ankles and bid you a safe flight.

——————————————————————

Thor was too scared to tell Loki you were captured. He would have been pissed at the both of you. If he thought you were in danger he would rip Midgard apart to find you. The only person he knew to contact was Steve Rogers.

In Tony’s infinite wisdom, he named Steve his successor of sorts. He called him the Chief Moral Compass of the company. That gave Steve all kinds of contacts and diplomatic immunity in 46 countries.

Steve met your flight at the base in New York. Coulson was thrilled to see Steve again but he wouldn’t release you. He got into the backseat and went with you to the facility where you’d be staying.

You waited for several hours in a holding room. You hadn’t eaten in a couple of days and your body was exhausted without the stones to prop you up. You fell asleep with your head on the table. Finally Steve came in to wake you.

“Hey, Y/N. You’re free to go. Get this collar off of her now!” he said to an agent.

“Can we grab something to eat? I haven’t had anything in a couple of days.”

He planted his hands on his hips and clenched his jaw. You were freaking Asgardian royalty and a human being. Surely that earned you some respect. He was livid. “Seriously, guys? You couldn’t have gotten her food? My apologies, Princess.”

“I would kill for a slice. Ever hear of Joe’s Pizza in Brooklyn?”

He smiled, “Best in New York. How do you know about that place?”

“I was in love with a guy from Brooklyn once.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

“He couldn’t handle who I was.”

Steve chuckled to himself, “Then he didn’t deserve you.”

——————————————————————

Pending a hearing, you were released to your mother’s care. You absolutely could not prevent Loki from coming any longer. When he landed you were sitting in the open space where your house would be built.

“This is the perfect spot isn’t it?” You were picking blades of grass and letting them fall through your fingers.

“Afelheim has ample space for cottage building. No cable though. I guess this rules out our extended holiday.” He sat next to you and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I think this is our extended holiday. My hearing isn’t for another month.”

“You know what you did was careless and stupid right? Also incredibly arrogant. Thor didn’t need your help.”

“I know. I don’t know what came over me. It’s like I wasn’t thinking.”

“You weren’t. The stones were. While we’re stuck here, I’d like to get as many people as possible involved in removing them and healing you. That’s even if you can be healed. Your body could be riddled with cancer like poor Jane.”

“Well I’ve saved her from that fate.”

“Not yourself. If I lost you....”

“You’re not losing me.”

You snuggled against him and he kissed the top of your head. He no longer tried to hide his feelings from you. He was afraid. You just found each other again and he was afraid he would lose you. The old Loki would have run screaming. This Loki would fight for you. And, if he had to, he would follow you into Hel. Maybe he was selfish in that regard. He lost you once. Never again.

#loki of jotunheim #loki fanfic #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki x you #loki x reader #loki smut #witch #mcu witches #small time witch

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realityhelixcreates · 3 years

Text

Lasabrjotr Chapter 73: Teal

Chapters: 73/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: R

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Mentions of Sexual Activity, NSFW, Starting to Bring Some Threads Together

Summary: Asgard honors the giant as best it can. You continue to dream

The weather turned worse on the way back, until even the well maintained Ring Road was scarcely visible. Eventually, Loki pulled you up into his saddle on Leynarodd's back, seating you flush with his body, and wrapping his back-up cloak around you.

“I will keep you as warm as I may.” He breathed into your ear. “Would it help if I were to whisper lewd and wicked things to you?”

You giggled, but shook your head. “Just cuddle. I want to go to sleep.”

And so, he wrapped his arms around you as well, and let you doze.

Your arrival was heralded with a celebration that woke you with instruments and shouting. You moved back to Acorn as the procession moved through the city, and, still drowsy, participated in a great feast thrown in the giant's honor.

This was a part of Asgardian funerary customs, as taught to you by Saga. The burial honored the dead's body, and the feast honored the dead's spirit. Normally, the revelers told stories of the dead's deeds during life, but no one knew the giant, so instead extolled the accomplishments of all Jotun, across the ages.

You didn't have any such stories, so you listened and ate, as Bogljot described being defeated in a contest of speed by the Forest Giant, Hyrrokkin, as the normally quiet Heimdall sang praises to his many 'mothers', as an older Asgardian you didn't know described the great mountain kingdom of Utgardaloki, for whom Loki was named.

It was dark yet again by the time the feast ended, and Loki led you, stumbling and tipsy on cider, back to his bedroom. He carefully divested you of your armor, stripped every last garment from you, and sat you down on your chair beneath the sunlamp. As the light warmed your skin, Loki also shucked his own clothing, and sat down at your feet. The two of you spent an hour under the warm lamp, Loki reading you various examples of Earth poetry he thought you would like, or resting his head in your lap and letting you toy with his hair.

Finally, when fatigue had clearly caught all the way up with you, Loki turned out the light, and carried you off to bed, where he made love to you until you could no longer keep your eyes open. When you drifted away, it was on a cloud of warm bliss.

******

You found yourself in the glory of open space once more buoyed by sparkling blue light. It came from a gem that you could see now, flying before you like a comet, with yourself gliding along in its glowing tail. You started to reach out for the glittering object once more, but pulled your hand back, vaguely remembering something that put you off of grabbing it. Thoughts echoed within your blood, concepts resolving themselves into impressions in your mind.

You are learning me. Learn me. Learn more.

How? You thought. What are you?

A swirl of something. A blur of light, a different 'texture' than the blue.

Green.

Your right hand itched.

Learn me! Learn me! There is so much of me! Look! See!

Your world jittered, like a heartbeat slightly out of rhythm. With the suddenness of a drop of water in a still pool, the space around you rippled unexpectedly, folded in around you, and instead of nowhere, you were Somewhere.

A world full of green-skinned, red-haired people, thriving, but confused. A woman walked the streets crying out what you assumed to be a girl's name.

Titan, with its orange skies, empty, ruined. A ghost town of a planet.

Earth, running through frigid winds. Other humans ran beside you, dressed for a time long since passed. Frost Giants pursued, driving terror, like dogs, at your heels.

A woman, bald and elegantly androgynous, in flowing robes and surrounded by nothingness. She looked at you with pity, with eyes that pierced right through you.

“You are not ready for what is happening.” She said. “And I am not in a position to help.”

A severed head, the size of a small moon, floating through space. There were lights, cities built upon it, within it. You recoiled in horror, but as you watched, the cities shrank; went dark. The head floated backward, back and back. You blinked, and it was reattached to an impossibly gargantuan body. Another blink and the colossal being orbited a young sun, along with a haphazard belt of asteroids. You watched as they grasped one of the largest of them, and sundered it over their knee.

Wiping the newly exposed surface clean, the being stared out into a space that was dark and sparsely decorated with stars. Then, with fingertips each stained a different color, they grasped the asteroid and began to draw.

******

You awoke, brimming with the feeling that something important had happened while you slept, but couldn't quite pinpoint where that energy was coming from. There was something you felt the need to do, something you couldn't put a name to.

You could barely sit still under your sunlamp, wolfing down your oatmeal and dried fruit. Loki couldn't help but to comment on your increased energy. A wink and a suggestive comment, and you had him back in bed, hands on his chest, riding him for all he was worth.

You sure didn't hear him arguing.

When the two of you were finally presentable, scrubbed and dressed and fed, you took to the halls with your sunlamp in tow. Loki had some meetings to attend today; some job disputes that had come up recently. You had your classes with Saga. A light squeeze of the hand, and you parted ways.

The snow had continued through the night, piling up high against the windows. Reconstruction of your room had been forced to a halt, and all of your things had been moved, either to storage or to Loki's room. The caterpillar in a jar had become a chrysalis in a jar, but the butterfly had not emerged yet. It was possible that the cooler temperatures and lack of light had put it into some kind of stasis: unusual, but not unheard of.

It was still frightening to think that you had caused all that destruction, just because of a dream you couldn't even remember. What if you did that while Loki slept beside you?

There were far more people indoors now that winter had come, doing what Loki had described as their 'real' jobs, weavers and seamstresses, scribes, engineers, jewelers, and so many painters. In every hallway and alcove there was someone with a palette, someone with a pencil, someone carving the plaster into delicate ribbons and knots. Some of them told you they were trying to recreate murals from old Asgard. Others seemed to be trying a new take on their history. Others were focusing on more recent events.

As you walked through the halls, you saw heavily formulaic paintings of what must have been Odin and Frigga, Bor and the terrifying Hela, Heimdall, Thor, and Loki, and many others you didn't recognize. There were battles, and peace treaties, Vanir, Alfar, and Jotnar, There was Njord, Freya, and Freyr, whom you stopped and stared at for a few moments before shaking yourself free.

There were also events and vistas in a different style, some of which must have been pulled directly from the painters own memories. Soaring golden buildings and busy streets, folk dances and blacksmiths forging swords. A riot of berserkers clashing their metal staves, the view of a waterfall ocean.

There were Svartalfari in the great halls, Heimdall destroying a strange vehicle, portals to all of the realms circling each other. There was Frigga, standing tall, holding a sword over her head. There was Frigga, lying in a boat, surrounded by golden light. There was a sparkling red jewel, hanging over the head of a woman you realized must be a stylized Dr. Jane Foster. There were the Avengers again, painted in the heroic style of Asgard, haloed like holy beings. Did the Asgardians see them as the pantheon of Earth?

There was the destruction of Asgard. The great Jotun Surtr, the tiny form of Hela brandishing her thorn-like weapons against him in an almost heroic way. There was the enormous wolf Fenris, grappling with the Hulk. The star-filled expanse of space, with their island spaceship carrying them safely to Earth, a beautiful orb, painted as though seen through a window.

There were the mountains and river outside, rendered in such marvelous detail that you recognized the exact place. There were nightscapes of the Northern Lights.

And there was you.

Your little figure, next to Loki, with your flower crown helm. Among the longhouses of Trolerkaerhalla, wearing the cloak of a Seidkona. It was a very strange feeling, to see yourself immortalized like this. The impostor syndrome flared up, heavy and loud. Logically speaking, you had made history. But why should it have been you? Why should any of this be you?

You hurried through the increasingly colorful halls, seeking out the library. There would always be this battle inside you, between acknowledgment that you were deserving of good things, and belief that there were others so much more deserving.

You rushed into the library, with it's nice new door, and set up your sunlamp. Saga handed you your drum. The Valkyries were here, as well as an ancient, wizened woman who had probably been a Seidkona since the Parthenon had been built. She instructed you strictly, but patiently in the primeval rhythm of Seidkona ritual. There was a chant she was teaching you, a mystical affirmation ritual in a bygone dialect of the Asgardian language, so archaic that the meaning of the words were lost even on your venerable teacher. Saga understood them, but since she was not a Seidkona, she was in essence, forbidden from speaking them.

You got the feeling that it annoyed her a bit.

You were walked through the chant, and the drum beat over and over, committing the sounds to memory, like you had for the past few weeks. The only thing you were missing was the very last syllable of the chant, the knowledge of which would only be imparted on you at the eve of the Buridag festival. Before then, you would not be allowed to speak, or even know it, for fear of completing the spell prematurely.

After your lessons, you spent a little bit of time in one of the library's side rooms, where Asgard's salvaged art treasures were kept. Lofn and her twin Sjofn, who were in charge of preservation, display, and upkeep, were both all too happy to educate you on what they were. Sjofn had just finished cleaning and labeling a collection of Nornheim knives, very similar to your own. You could see the shift in shape and handle style that had occurred over the years of war with Asgard.

They were all made of nornbein, with stone handles, though many of them had been engraved with the names of the Asgardians who had claimed them. Yours had not. In comparison, your knife, with its lance-like blade and cylindrical handle, was clearly from the latter period of Nornheim occupation, while the earlier knives were more leaf shaped, with flattened handles. You wondered how many hundreds of years those changes represented, with rock trolls carefully shaping the blades to their preference, and picking their favorite stones; blue and green, gray, violet, white, banded, and your own pink ruby, to carve into handles. Did the color and type mean anything to them, or had it just been personal preference?

These knives all represented Asgardian lineages which had died out, with no one left to inherit the blades. It was a sad collection to look at, as sad as where the knives had come from in the first place.

Lofn had templates from past Asgardian fashion designers, arranged on an enormous poster board, and carefully glued down flat. As you watched, she affixed strange little clip-like devices at all four corners, and at regular intervals along each side.

“They are useful storage and protective devices.” She explained. “We can make them from Midgardian materials too. You see, when activated, they form a protective field.” She tapped each of them in turn, and they lit up, covering the huge poster board in a very slight, almost imperceptible glow.

“It is protected now.” She announced. In a swift and startling movement, she grabbed one of the newly cataloged knives and stabbed the board with a ferocious growl. You jumped back, even as the blade bounced harmlessly off. She laughed as a glaring Sjofn snatched the knife back. “You see? It cannot be harmed. We protect our precious things in this way.”

“It has another use too.” She grasped the edges of the poster board and squeezed them together. To your amazement, the entire thing-easily as wide as you were tall-shrank to the size of a sheet of paper. “Look, do you see?”

She touched the field and it reacted like an electronic tablet, magnifying and moving across parts of the board, so you could see the details up close.

“You see, don't you? You see?” She asked.

Your gaze shifted, away from the fashion poster, away from the knife collection, to a work of art that had caught your attention earlier in the year. An artwork that wore the same preservation devices.

Ymir's Dreamscape.

“You see.” Lofn said.

#lasabrjotr #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

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lokislittlesigyn · 3 years

Text

OG616 : Thor: The Dark World - Pt.5 [The Visit]

[My masterlist, where all parts of this and my other fics can be found]

Pairing: Loki / Sigyn (basically an oc based off the marvel/myth namesake)

Warnings: Major character death, some other mentions of violence/death. Nothing overly graphic.

Author’s Note: Have a little old-married-couple-Logyn as a treat. (followed by immediate sad. I promise, this gets less dark soon!)

Taglist: @high-functioning-lokipath , @onaheroicmission To be added to the taglist, just ask me here or send a message! <3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was there.

Right there.

Moments away. Inches away. Loki stood with his back to her, flipping through a book.

The inside of his cell looked surprisingly comfortable, mostly thanks to what few things she and Frigga sent. Inside there were the tables, the chair and footstool. Books, stacked neatly against the far wall. A bed in the corner - with their blankets on it. The bed was unmade, one of the blankets hanging off the edge onto the floor.

At least he’s gotten some rest.

She smiled softly, then looked at him again. She wasn't sure how to get his attention.

Glancing around just to make sure they were alone, she pulled down her cloak's hood.

Seconds felt like years. Eons.

What do I say?

She stared at him. Took another step up the stairs before the cell, and tripped - gasping sharply, barely catching herself before she fell into the field of burning energy.

That was close. She leaned back, trembling slightly, her gaze locked on the deep gold aura gleaming in front of her.

Then she looked up. Her heart skipped a beat.

Loki was watching her, his face conveying pure astonishment for a split second - then confusion. Anger?

"Sigyn." He snapped his book shut. "I should have known you would be foolish enough to come here."

"Foolish?"

"Yes, foolish. It is foolish to risk getting caught, to risk getting killed-" He stopped himself. Exhaled, set the book aside. Looked back at her. "You should not have come."

"I hadn't meant to anger you..."

"Pardon me for fearing for my wife's safety."

"Loki, I am safe." She tried to step closer, but stopped at the barrier. She already hated the barrier. "You see? I got past the guards without them ever noticing - Loki, I'm here, I've come to you! Are you not glad to see me?"

"I would be more glad if you were not so close to being locked away too."

Sigyn's voice softened. "If it meant being with you, I would choose it."

Loki swallowed, watching her. He stepped closer.

"What happened to you, Loki? What did they do to you?"

"The Asgardians?" He huffed a laugh.

"No. The creatures you were with, the mad titan and his ally. What happened?"

Loki’s smile quickly disappeared.

".. You shan't speak of it. Of course." Sigyn looked away.

Give him time. Be patient.

She looked back at him.

He seemed to be studying her. Soaking in every inch of her. It felt almost like when he would admire her, so long ago. Of course, she admired him too.

She'd always admired him.

"I still can't believe you're here.." She breathed. "I missed you. I missed you so much. When they told me you were dead, I..." Tears gathered in her eyes. "I couldn't believe it. I didn't, at first. And then you were alive again. But you weren't safe, you were out there, alone.." She stumbled over the words, whispering through tears. "I missed you."

He let out a soft, defeated sigh, blinking slowly. "I missed you too."

Sigyn's heart felt lighter than it had in over a year.

He missed me. He still loves me.

She smiled, in spite of the circumstances, though she desperately wished she could join him. She wiped a few tears away with the back of her hand.

"The necklace I gave you.." Loki walked to the edge of the barrier, his hands behind his back. "You still wear it."

"Of course I do." She pulled it from under her shirt, holding it out. "I haven't stopped."

"Since..?"

"Since the day you fell."

Loki nodded. "Hm. Truly the goddess of fidelity."

"It's just a title," She returned the necklace to its previous spot.

"But you uphold it well."

She smirked. "As you do yours."

Loki let out a breathy laugh. "I'm sure many would disagree."

"The god of mischief," She smiled, warmth in her voice, "The trickster. Fitting titles, both."

"And yet who is now on the outside looking in? Hiding their identity, committing - I'm afraid to say - terrible crimes?"

"Is it a crime to see my husband?"

"It's certainly a crime to break into the dungeon."

"Funny. You'd think they'd be more worried about someone getting out, not in." Sigyn grinned.

Loki huffed, "You would be surprised."

"Perhaps. Shows how much I‘ve yet to learn," she giggled, glancing away for a moment. As she turned her head, she could've sworn she saw Loki truly smile at her.

"Have you any idea how these cells work?"

"Now, Sigyn. Don't tell me you're going to break in and out of the dungeon."

"I only asked a question." She walked over to the dungeon wall. No controls, no levers, no hint to how the barriers were sustained..

"Some sort of spell, I imagine, but none I know." Loki watched her, gripping his hands together as she continued smoothing her hand over the wall. "Sigyn," He called, "You should leave."

She stopped. "What?"

"Leave, Sigyn."

"I've only just got here.."

"It's not safe."

"But-"

"The guards are coming on patrol. Unless you would like a cell of your own, you must leave."

She looked at him one last time. Sure enough, the sound of footsteps echoed through the dungeon. She hadn't noticed.

"I love you," She grasped her hood.

He gazed down at her, his breath heavier. "..I love you too, Sigyn. Now go."

~~~~

Sigyn left the dungeons completely unnoticed. She meandered through the palace, stopping near the throne room. Checked to make sure she was alone before pulling down her hood and gazing out a window at the city. Her heart still felt giddy, her hands still a bit shaky after finally speaking with him - it took everything in her not to shout for joy.

I'll find a way to free you, Loki. You'll be safe here. The Nine Realms are protected, our family is back together again. We even have Jane now - everything is better than it was before. She sighed happily, taking in deep, relaxed breaths between small fits of laughter. It will be okay. Everything will be okay-

Alarms sounded.

The prison alarms.

Her hair stood on end, her heart skipping once before pounding in her chest.

Loki.

Had he found a way out?

Guards hurried, battalions forming and marching to report to the king. They wouldn’t rally so many just to stop him… We’re under attack.

Sigyn followed. She caught a glimpse of Frigga and Jane walking away.

Good. Frigga will keep her safe.

"Allfather?" Sigyn caught up with Odin. He turned, facing her. "Allfather - how can I help?"

"You can stay out harm's way."

Sigyn huffed, "I want to help."

"Sigyn, you have little experience in battle, and no weapon to speak of. The best you can do is stay safe."

She wanted to argue. To help, to fight whatever was attacking her home - but instead she nodded, backing down. An argument between her and Odin was the last thing everyone needed. "Very well, as you wish.."

Odin seemed vaguely impressed as she turned, leaving. Not knowing where Frigga and Jane were, Sigyn went up to a room she knew healers would be hiding in - and sure enough, many were there, looking bewildered. She closed the door, standing before them.

"The Allfather will protect us. We are to remain here."

Countless explosions sounded from outside. The entire room shook as something attacked - no, bombarded the palace.

The servants looked to Sigyn. As princess, she was highest in command among them.. Though she’d hardly led anyone before.

"Don’t fret," She assured them again, "We will be safe here."

They waited.

And waited.

Holed up in the quiet healing room, listening to muffled explosions from outside.

Sigyn couldn't decide if it was better or worse to be waiting, rather than in battle - at least out there, she might see what was going on. Eventually, the deep hum of a ship flying away suggested they could leave.

Sigyn walked to the door, opening it. Paused. "It's safe."

Making her way to the throne room, her breath grew unsteady.

Bodies. Bodies everywhere, littering the floor with blood and decay. A ship had crashed into the throne room. Countless pillars of stone toppled over, the dust still settling over the ruin.

The throne of Asgard, half destroyed. More bodies laid strewn about before it.

She swallowed, looking at each of them pointedly. Rest well. You fought bravely.

She looked around her. Not a soul. Where are they all?

She searched the castle, catching sight of Thor and Jane. They were safe.

"There you are!" She stopped in front of them. "Where is everyone, brother?"

Thor gazed down at her.

Sigyn's brow immediately furrowed and her stomach churned. He had the same grim look she'd seen over a year ago, when he'd returned from the Bifrost with Odin. But now it somehow looked more certain. More real. More… Enraged.

"Thor...?"

"Sigyn, come, there is.. No way to put this lightly."

~~~~

Frigga was dead. Gone.

Dark elves had attacked and murdered her, along with countless others. Dark elves of Svartalfheim - an enemy they were told had been slaughtered by King Bor eons ago.

Yet another lie that had cost her family everything.

So many lives lost.

Her life lost.

Sigyn sat by a window, weeping quietly. Grief came in waves, washing over her relentlessly, one after the other.

If I'd followed them, her and Jane, things might be different.

I should've followed them. I should've helped them. I should’ve known how to fight.

She gripped the folds of her cloak, sniffling. Squeezing her eyes shut.

Mother, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I should've been there to defend you.

Sigyn opened her eyes again, gazing out the window.

I miss you already.

~~~~

That night, a funeral was held. Sigyn begged Odin to let Loki attend.

He refused, and forbade she try to tell him herself.

She knew it was too risky to go see Loki now. Frigga was no longer there to vouch for her - one wrong step, and Odin may have Loki executed for all she knew...

So Sigyn stood alongside Thor and Jane, clutching her necklace with white knuckles. Watched as boats, carrying the deceased, drifted peacefully by. There were so many boats... Too many.

A flaming arrow was lit, sent flying out to meet Frigga's boat. Flames consumed it. Then more arrows flew and met the other boats, flames growing. Burning.

As Frigga's boat drifted to the edge of the sea, Odin beat Gungnir on the ground, and her body turned to stardust, floating up into the sky.

Sigyn's gaze followed them.

An ocean of stars. Billions of shining lights, the same she and Loki once lied under. The same she once asked Frigga about.

I miss you, Frigga. A tear ran down her cheek as hundreds of lights were released, each drifting to the sky. Stars in their own right.

I will keep your son Loki safe. Give him your love and mine, love him more than I ever have before. I will help Thor, and Jane, the mortal. I promise, I will do you proud. Even if you were not my birth mother,

She swallowed,

You were a mother to me.

#loki x sigyn #loki fanfic #logyn #OG616 #thor: the dark world

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otterskin · 3 years

Text

Finnesang - Prologue : Two Birds, One Song

All published chapters on AO3 - but here’s Chapter One, just to hook you.

Blurb: Odin is missing a raven. Without Muninn, Odin isn’t quite who he used to be. The only thing more dangerous than a man with secrets is one who can no longer keep them.

After a near-perfect Coronation years ago, Thor's become exactly the kind of king he believes his father would be proud of - if his father were still the man Thor thought he was (if he ever was).

Loki knows his place - servant of Asgard, advisor to his brother, and caregiver to his ailing father. Important roles, defining ones - and yet he feels forgotten. Sometimes literally.

Being forgotten is fatal when all that you are is someone else’s lie.

PART ONE:

UNMADE

ᚲ ᛟ ᚹ

The RAVENS

Once we were ravens, and that only.

To be ravens is a good thing. Ravens can fly. The Sky belonged to us when we danced in it. At night we'd steal the stars away when our black bodies blotted them out. We did not belong to the Earth or the Sea, though we took the bounties of both. Some would call us thieves for that, but we were ravens only, and accountable to no-one.

And yet we were not content. We wished to have more.

We wished to be more.

When we heard it first, we could put no name to it. It was a sound, many of them, wound together in a tangle - and yet it could be followed.

So follow it we did.

We soared through rain and thunder, through blazing sun and piercing wind. Always, it moved forward, as living things must. We followed. We could not bear to live again in silence.

We beat our wings in time with its tempo and our hearts beat in time with its base. There was nothing but the song and the journey to possess it.

We followed it through forests, through villages, through cities and out into the sky again.

We saw a figure walking through clouds. He looked like one of the people who lived below - he was covered in scales like them, had four purple eyes like them, dressed as they did. But at once we saw that he was not one of them. None of them could walk the skies as easily as we flew in them. None of them sang as he did. He was a new thing, and we wanted to have him.

We danced about him, and he laughed in wonder at us.

He paused in his song to call out to us, as raucous as any lowly crow, “What are your names, then?”

We jeered. Play the sounds, creature.

He took up the thing of sticks and strings from around his neck and strummed it.

We ventured nearer, needing to feel the pulse of the tune. One of us landed on his right shoulder. One of us landed on his left. Through our toes, we could feel the rumble of his flesh, the rumble that became the sounds we would soon learn to call ‘music’.

"Hearing, I ask, from the ho-o-ly races

From Norn’s eyes, watching high and low

I will soon relate, to this tree of faces

Old tales remembered from long, long ago…”

We did not yet know what words were, but still we jittered to encounter them. The scales that disguised the singer as one of the people of below fell away, revealing pale, pinky flesh and worm-like toes where wing feathers should be. His eyes were now only two, and they were very, very blue.

"Have you no names, then? I’m between names myself at the moment. A fair number of them just…did not work out. Perhaps you can help me think of the next one.”

Before we could berate him for stopping, he continued to sing.

"I asked for companions, the Norns sent me birds

I asked them for names, but they gave me none

I suppose since I am the master of words

It falls to me to give them both some!"

He reached out to stroke our chests with a finger. It was warm. We didn’t dislike it.

“I may have made those lyrics for you, but the tune is not mine. I really should not be singing it. Yet lately, I cannot seem to get it out of my head…

“My father was a fine singer himself,

Though only when he sang with my mother.

They sang this for me when I was my first self

When I still had a sister and brother.”

The music ended. We looked at the creature. He stared hollowly out across the green skies as if he did not like the colour of them.

“It seems that no matter where I go or what I call myself, I am burdened with memories and thoughts. Not just of what was, but what could have been. Do you know what that is like, my feathered friends?”

He seemed unhappy. That was no good - his song had brought us joy, and it would not do for him to have none of his own. We called his music to our minds and cawed to it best we could, harsh and throaty.

His eyes brightened. “You are very clever, aren’t you? You’re different from the birds on Asheim. Though not so clever that you’ve yet to realize what sordid company you’re keeping now.” He strummed his instrument with a grin. “I’ve thought of names for you. You shall be Huginn and Muninn - Thought and Memory. But names are not free, my corvid companions. Upon your wings I will settle a burden, so that I might journey lighter…”

He touched a wing-toe to his head. It began to glow, bright and silver. When he withdrew the toe, it came away with a long strand of silver. It broke free from his head, and at once began to wiggle like a worm. We could not help but swallow eagerly in anticipation. He offered the worm to the first of us on his right shoulder. Without hesitation, it was devoured. He put his finger to his head once more, and this time drew out a golden worm. This he offered to the second of us, on his left shoulder. Once again, it was devoured.

He continued in this manner until we were full to bursting. The silver and gold writhed in our guts, hot and cold, filling us with emptiness and sorrow, with warmth and joy, all at once. It was only then that we realized we were no longer only ravens.

Our minds were pulled away from our bodies, away from the green skies of our home. We were taken into another body, under a different sky, in a distant time.

There, we were a boy. There, there was a garden…

It was a beautiful place.

A tall, red-bearded man held hands with a woman. Together they worked the land, pulling and pushing earth and water. Beside them were two children, a boy and girl. The girl coaxed plants from the soil, and the boy called animals to live in them.

The eyes we ravens watched from were distant, hovering far above the scene.

The man looked up at us. He opened his mouth, perhaps to call us down, to join them -

But all that came out was a terrible, wailing scream...

ᚼ

The ravens awoke, groggy with sleep. The baby’s wails echoed down the dark hallway, piercing even the great golden doors meant to shut away the rest of the world.

Thought looked at Memory. Memory looked back at Thought.

“You go,” croaked Thought.

“Muninn went last time,” complained Memory.

The wailing grew louder. It was a noise somewhere between a wolf having their teeth pulled and a crash collision between two speeding metal boats, complete with the two pilots arguing over whose fault it was afterwards. It was the very opposite of music.

“Huginn turn,” insisted Memory.

Huginn huffed, puffing up his feathers and shaking the sleep off of them. He flapped down off his golden perch and onto the bed. There was only one occupant, still slumbering on one side. On the other, the furs were flicked open. Huginn thought to look at the remaining shoes. The slippers were still there, but Frigga's boots were gone. Muninn remembered that she often went to the Garden at night - the only time she really could. She would not be back until sunrise.

Huginn hopped over to the remaining lump of furs. He pulled back the edges of them, revealing Odin’s face. He looked so very different from the creature who had walked the skies of the ravens’ homeworld. The red colour had long leached out of his hair, and his soft face had sprouted a grey beard and moustache to match it. At least his eyes had stayed the same - until a few nights ago when even one of them was taken from him.

Muninn recalled that he’d told them it was a trade of sorts. An eye for a baby. Huginn thought that was a rubbish trade. Odin's right eye had never screamed at them, which made it better by far.

Not wanting to waste any more potential sleep time, Huginn pecked near the newly-empty eye socket. At once the lump of furs erupted with a curse, sending Huginn flying into the air.

Odin attempted to insult his birds again but was drowned out by the baby screaming its boat-crash-wolf-yelp cry. So instead he sighed, beckoning to his birds to follow him as he lumbered out into the hallway.

Muninn tried to hide his beak under his wing and pretend he hadn’t seen the gesture. Huginn circled back and harassed him mercilessly.

“Need both,” Huginn tutted. “Always two ravens.”

Muninn relented, and soon both birds perched on Odin’s shoulders: Huginn on his right, Muninn on his left. As light as they were, Odin still moved slowly. He’d had very little sleep since returning from the final battle. The war itself hadn’t been particularly relaxing either.

Huginn felt the thought bloom in his mind as it occurred to Odin. How easy it seemed when I first took the child. Just seeing a friendly face after being abandoned had been enough to quell its cries.

They entered the nursery. Immediately the cries doubled in volume.

"Shhh-shhh-shh-sh.” Odin attempted, but the child only stopped its tears to hiccough loudly and suck in more breath, ammunition for further cacophony.

Hastily, Odin seized at a bottle waiting in a basket of ice and tried to stopper the babe with the bottle’s teat. Its mouth clamped shut and refused the milk, turning this way and that to escape.

“Still?” Odin asked it wearily.

I thought I saved you. But if you do not eat, all I have done is prolonged your death.

The thought tasted of hopelessness. It was not a favourite flavour of Huginn’s.

The babe reached out, seizing at Odin’s hand even as it ignored the bottle it held. Odin scooped the child into his arms, jostling the ravens as he patted its back. Nothing seemed wrong with it; its changing cloth was clean, its guts clear of gas. It was not even alone anymore - and yet it still would not stop crying.

“Go outside?” suggested Huginn.

“Remind baby of home,” agreed Muninn.

Odin nodded, eye still droopy with sleep.

They stepped onto the balcony. The night was clear and brimming with all the lights of Yggdrasil. As hoped, a chill was in the air.

And yet the baby still cried, digging into Odin’s beard as if trying to crawl away from the cold.

The old god sighed. “What am I to do?” he asked his ravens.

“Always, Odin ask only himself for counsel,” chided Muninn.

“I tried to turn to Frigga,” Odin protested half-heartedly.

Muginn cocked his head in judgement. The raven did not need to remind Odin of what he had done to Frigga. A flicker passed through both their minds: the memories of her face when he’d returned, bearing a strange infant to replace the one she so recently lost. She’d been waiting to share their grief - and Odin had instead asked her to disguise it, much like the false child he’d pressed to her breast.

“Odin did not think that one through,” observed Huginn.

“No. He did not,” agreed Odin, rubbing at the gauze over his socket again. He sighed.

Even Frigga’s reaction had been a friendlier welcome than he’d gotten from his own son.

I don’t know why I expected a warm welcome on my return - how could he even recognize me? He was but a babe when I left. But to see the boy instead glare at me with such suspicion, to insist on standing between his own mother and father...

But was the boy wrong to try and protect Frigga from me?

The first thing I did on my return was to break her heart.

“I am a wicked man,” Odin sighed.

"You are required to be a good king above being a good man. The two are often mutually exclusive concepts.”

Odin turned his head slightly to frown at Huginn. “That voice…”

The babe kicked him hard in the chest, trying again to squirm free of Odin’s grip.

Without thinking about it, he started to hum, bumping the child up and down as he did so.

Miraculously, the tiny creature quietened. Unscrunching its face, it peered up at him and his ravens. It seemed mesmerized by the tune.

Odin would have been glad of it, had he not recognized just what he was humming.

He stopped.

The babe immediately crumpled up again and began to fuss. Huginn, too, dipped his head in disappointment.

Despite his audience’s clear call for an encore, Odin did not pick up the tune again. Instead, he summoned the milk into his hand and tried again to feed the child. “Come on, boy,” he muttered, trying to turn its face back out from his chest. “I know it’s not as good as giant’s milk but we haven’t had any volunteers.”

His attempts jostled the ravens about on his shoulders, causing them to flap and squawk. Huginn wondered how comical they would appear to anyone walking in on the scene. Odin, King of Asgard, Conqueror, feared throughout the realms, encumbered by clingy ravens and an obstinate baby.

“Eat - the damn - milk,” Odin muttered, accompanying each word with the jab of the bottle.

“Baby liked that song,” Muninn recalled.

“Sing next time,” urged Huginn, a spark of independence clashing against Odin’s clear reticence.

“I don’t know that I can," the man muttered. “I haven’t sung in years,”

“Odin sang for many years before,” Muninn said slowly. “Muninn would know if Odin forgot how.”

“See? So sing now!” demanded Huginn.

The other raven looked away from his brother. “Muninn doesn’t like that song. It hurts.”

Huginn looked over at Muninn, scandalized. “We ravens like the song!"

But Muninn just fluffed his feathers again and wouldn’t meet Huginn’s beady eye.

The babe knocked the glass bottle from Odin’s hands. It hit the stone floor of the balcony and broke open.

Odin nearly cursed again, catching the ugly word with one syllable already hanging out of his mouth. Spending years around soldiers instead of the Court and his family had roughened his vocabulary. That was what he used his voice for, crass words and orders to make war. Not song. That belonged to a version of himself he’d long put behind him.

He would go and get a nursemaid and damn the consequences, he would go and fetch Eir and have her diagnose the child, he would go -

The baby detonated with a keening scream, piercing his eardrums and threatening to further shatter the glass bottle with its ferocity.

He would go mad if he didn’t do something right now.

Well, go madder. He must have been mad already to have taken this child in the first place.

It shouldn’t have come as easily as it did. For one thing, his voice had deepened significantly since he last said these words, and it strained at first, trying to hit the notes that used to be within easy reach. But even before he dropped to the next octave down, his seidr was stirred, flowing outwards with the euphony. In many ways, this had been how he’d first learned magic - how he first learned to speak with the air and sky, and all the intricate veins that threaded the universe together. A thousand strings to be plucked and molded into melody.

“Hearing, I ask, from the ho-o-ly races

From Norn’s eyes, watching high and low

I will soon relate, to this tree of faces

Old tales remembered from long, long ago.

Of old was the age when Ymir yet lived

No sea nor waves, nor sand was yet there

Earth was not yet, nor heavens forgive'd

All that was was the gap to nowhere.”

Muninn shifted uneasily. Memories of millennia were tangled inextricably in every bar. But to the babe, it was merely noise, clean and new and without connotation. Spellbound, it fell still in Odin’s arms.

“Lead me home, my mothers of yester

Lead me to my heart and its way

Free me from a body that festers

Free me from the urge to yet stay.

Take me from this o-ode to slaughter

Take me from Hel, though I may belong

Lead me to my sons and my daughters

Lead me home to the heart of my song.

Shield-time, sword-time, we enter the gold halls

Wind-time, Wolf-time, ere the world falls.”

Muninn thought of Bor, Father of Odin. He once said this was a sad song.

But did it have to be so for everyone who heard it? Odin wondered. Could it not be something else for this babe?

It could mean safety, comfort. It could mean that this child had a home…at least for a little while.

“Little while?” Muninn croaked. “How cruel.”

The All-Father ignored him and continued to sing.

“I remember yet the giants of yore

Who gave me bread in days gone by

Nine worlds I knew, Nine worlds at war

Nine voices became one battle cry…”

There were many ways this story could go. If it weren’t for me, this babe’s tale would have ended shortly after it had begun. What could be less cruel than the gift of possibilities?

“Muninn cannot remember the future, only past,” Muninn scolded. “Odin cannot know if saving baby means good or bad. It just is.”

“Even bad better than nothingness,” Huginn dissented. “This good deed.”

“Deeds have reasons why done,” Muninn muttered. “Were reasons good?”

Huginn turned his back on his brother, disgusted with his treachery. “Odin not parley with ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Odin just is. Muninn play silly games.”

“Only one rose from the sea of blood

Broken were oaths, words not what they seemed

Before the breath of liars, we scud

Shaped, like clouds, by forces unseen..."

“Odin make promise by taking baby,” insisted Muninn.

“Odin makes no promises,” Huginn hissed.

“I know the horn of Heimdall, well-hidden

As lost as the things it’s meant to return

What would I ask, if it were mine to be bidden?

Would I make new or ask to unburn?

Alone I waited when the Old One sought me

The Terror of Gods gazed in mine eyes:

‘What dost thou want? What comest thou to see?’

Dost thou look for something living or died?

‘Before thou ask, be aware there is cost -

An eye for an eye, a thought for a thought

If I am to return that which you lost

Be aware that the price is the same as the bought.

'Would you know yet more?

Knowing that wisdom is weight?

Would you know yet more?

Knowing no knowledge will sate?

Would you know yet more?

If you knew that knowing meant a forever war?’”

The babe was staring at Odin with rapt attention as if there was nothing in the universe more awe-inspiring than an old man mumbling his way through a doom-stricken ditty.

Odin tended to be the most powerful person in any room - or planet - or galaxy, really - that he happened to walk into, and so he was used to rapt attention. But there is nothing quite like being the end-all, be-all centre of existence in the eyes of an infant. For one thing, people tended to get nervous when the most powerful person in the galaxy walked into the room. This babe just wondered. It would have marvelled at him just the same if he were a moderately-successful goatherd.

This child knew so little of the world. So little about Odin. Hardly any different from most grown men, in that respect. How precious that ignorance was. How unfair that after all the world had done to this child in his short life that that innocence should be placed in Odin’s hands.

Moved to pity, Huginn bent down to preen at the babe’s few dark hairs. Muninn took off from the other shoulder, heading back inside.

“Lead me home, my brothers of yester

Lead me to my heart and its way

Free me from a body that festers

Free me from the urge to yet stay…

Take me from this o-ode to slaughter

Take me from Hel, though I may belong

Lead me to my sons and my daughters

Lead me home to the heart of my song.

Shield-time, sword-time, we enter the gold halls

Wind-time, Wolf-time, ere the world falls.”

The song was nearly complete now, and Odin was surprised to find himself slowing down, as if unwilling to let the moment go. Each time he returned to the chorus, there seemed to be some strange reciprocity from the babe. Though it could not sing, its fledgeling magic nonetheless reverberated with the melody, like the threads of a spider’s web plucked by the breeze.

"The serpent is bright, but now I must sink

My father of yester is leading me home

The sky becomes light, no more must I think

of old tales remembered from long, long ago.

It didn’t seem till now...

...so long, long ago."

It was done.

Muninn returned, bearing with him a fresh bottle of milk. He dropped it into Odin’s waiting hand. The babe seemed loose, almost liquid in Odin’s grasp, though its eyes were still bright and alert. It didn’t fight the bottle this time - but neither did it suck at the teat. Odin sighed.

“Did I ever know what was in giant’s milk, Muninn?”

The raven considered, then shook his head.

“Can you think of anything that would convince the child to drink, Huginn?”

The second raven considered, then shook his head.

“Fat lot of good you both turned out to be, eh?” Odin sighed, but there was a smile in it.

The king tried to return the babe to its crib, but its fists had knotted painfully in place in his beard. It was no use; he’d just have to take it to bed and hope it would behave until morning.

When he settled back into his half of the mattress, another pang of guilt crossed his chest.

I should be with her.

Instead, he pulled the blanket back up over himself and carefully tried to lie down without disturbing the infant.

“Give her time,” he said, though the babe was already deep in sleep. “She’s a warm heart and love to spare. She just needs time to say goodbye.”

The babe gurgled. Then, unmistakably, it hummed. Clear as the skies when Thor was in good spirits, it was the song Odin had imprinted on him, already echoing back. He listened to it make its way through the tune. At points it would stop, as if waiting for something; it took Odin a little while to realize that, even in the depths of sleep, it was waiting for a response. He’d hum back to it, sometimes along with it, creating a strange little harmony.

“We’ll make a proper Asgardian out of you yet,” he chuckled, and for a moment he could imagine that Frigga had merely gone to freshen up, that the babe was everything Odin was pretending it was, that his family had been spared their latest tragedy and all was, for that moment, well. He could forget all the inconvenient parts of reality.

The world could just be him and his borrowed boy.

He could stop the crying.

He could make things right.

“Could. What a damning word that is.”

Odin cracked open his eye and saw him in the corner of the room. Wrapped in shadows, and just as immaterial. His beard was a deeper red than it ever had been in life, and the curve of the downward-pointing horns of his helmet outlined his harsh face.

“Could is a word for regrets. Regrets are the stories we wished we lived. You were always too fond of stories. Stories are not real.”

Odin shut his eye. “Neither are you, Father.” He didn’t need to open it again to know that Bor would no longer be there. It was just a passing thought.

But the spell had been broken.

The bed was cold. His wife was still gone to the Garden to mourn over her true son while he coddled a painted imposter in what should have been her sanctuary. And even then, the babe was still sickly, still hungry, and he had nothing to fill him. He had made nothing right, only forgotten that everything was still wrong.

“Huginn - Muninn,” Odin called. “Go to Jötunheim and observe the children there. Learn what they require to suckle and grow, and return soon.”

The ravens bobbed their heads in acceptance of their task. They took flight.

The skies of Asgard roiled with starlight, but the clever birds knew which precise point of light was Jötunheim’s sole sun. Together they flew, side by side, into the ether. Light streaked, sound ceased, space bent around them, and they tore through -

We tore through…

We did, didn’t we? We ravens went to Jötunheim. We did - we saw and learned and we returned…The child lived, thanks to us…So why, why did the light and the sound continue, becoming darker, malevolent, angry? Why did it shout and accuse and become oh so terribly sad even as raging fire swept about us, between us, blackening the blackest of feathers and consuming, consuming, it was in Muninn’s mouth, it was in his stomach, it was devouring him from the inside out and he was in pain, such terrible pain and I, I the raven needed to go to my brother, needed to save him, but the moment we became I it was already too late.

Muninn was gone. A hole where a raven should be. I screamed for him, but a raven’s voice is not music, and it could not call him back.

I flew on.

My thoughts were dark.

Such angry, grieving thoughts.

My blood was dead. Taken from me. Stolen. By an enemy beyond my reach.

But not all my enemies were so.

Where was I going?

Somewhere cold, somewhere far away - and why?

To see the giants, the red eyes in the blizzard.

To Jötunheim, to the giants, to war -

As Asgard had done time and time again.

Yes, to war!

To war!

ᚼ

Huginn awoke with a start. Red light was streaming through the window behind him, courtesy of the sunset. He looked across from his golden perch to the empty one on the other side of the bed. As it had been for decades, it was empty.

So was the bed.

Huginn blinked at it. The sheets had been flung from the bed with force.

The door remained shut, likely still locked. But, as the breeze from the open window reminded the raven, that was not the only way out of this place.

With a flurry of greying feathers, Huginn took flight. He passed out the back of the golden room and felt the wispy touch of shattered spells try to catch at his feathers, to no avail.

The rook circled Asgard, wings straining, searching, searching.

He heard him before he saw him - the whistling of wind around the corners of the city and the low, dull roar of the stars as invisible strings drew from their raging hearts. Footfalls echoed mightily off the golden buildings, and at once Huginn knew they could not be dissuaded from their path.

There was nothing a raven, even one who was not only that, could do.

There was little anyone could do, really, but there were some who would try anyway. Inconveniently, today had to be the day they weren’t on Asgard.

Huginn braced his aching pinions, fixing his beady eyes on a star in the sky the way other ravens fixed on the glimmer of a mussel in the water.

He flew into the sky, following the faintest sounds of a half-remembered melody.

***

This and the rest on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638704/chapters/51598693

#finnesang #thor fanfiction #loki fanfic #thor fanfic #my fic #loki #thor #odin #huginn and muninn #huginn

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helpinghanikan · 4 years

Text

Their blood-bag

Marvel (and Matt Murdock) x Reader

Sum: Call it a disease, call it a curse or even call it a gift, in the end it's all the same. Vampirism has taken hold of your man, of your woman, and it’s time to deal with it.

Steve Rogers:

It’s a secret that goes deeper than anything Hydra could have ever done. There’s a reason the serum could never be perfected again, as it wasn’t just science Erskine had dipped into. And his soul might be somewhere other than Heaven for the things he had done to perfect it.

The “special” food he always eats, the late-night missions and the artificial lighting used in any and all pictures. It all slaps you at once, in the middle of the night when the bed is cold again and you shouldn’t get out of bed. You still do, you walk the few steps in the apartment to a living room where the darkness holds it steady.

He’s there, but only as an outlined shape on the couch. There’s a square in his hands, a book that’s been randomly appearing throughout the apartment. In the darkness you see his eyes, the ones that should be blue. But now they’re wrong, just wrong enough that you stare for longer than you should have. Long enough for him to look up and to know what you do.

What was your plan after finding him in the dark? Confront him, ask him to change as if this was simply some sort of addiction he could overcome? None of that could happen.

Instead you stand in the doorway, staring. Steve sets his book to the side, closing it softly and saying your name just as gentle. You don’t know if he started to get to follow you, as you had already gotten back into bed. Closing your eyes and pretending that ignorance was still your entire world.

Tony Stark:

In the past ten to fifteen years Tony has seen more magic, unexplained occurrences and straight up weird shit then any normal human ever could. That being said, there was still a scientific explanation for everything. For almost everything.

When it doesn’t there was a problem. There was no medical reason for blood to sustain someone, or how rapidly his fingernails grew. Strange had agreed with him,

“Nope, there isn’t a medical reason for it.” He had said, dropping Tony’s hands after being forced to look at them. “It’s a magical reason, Stark. Dumbed down version; you’re a vampire. Think of it like an STD.”

If you had your own time machine you’d go back and stop Stephen from describing it like that. You can’t prove it, but this could be one of the reasons you haven’t been together recently. Not just in the terms of sex, but cuddling, hugging even a kiss on the cheek he’d give when he had to leave for something. All of that was gone; replaced with a dodging head and a smile that couldn’t come close.

Thor:

Since the infection Thor has taken trips to New Asgard once a month. Never outright telling anyone where he was going. He’s just not next to you one night and returns the following evening. It’s only through Brunnhilde that you even know where he is. Not that she is any better with texting or technology, at least she answers.

You offer for him to simply use you, save himself a trip and all that. But he’s bounced around the reason why for a while, until you make the only logical conclusion. “Are you saying that the Asgardians can handle you, while I can’t?”

“Yes,” He says, “But it’s not just you. Midgardians are naturally weaker in comparison.”

The microaggression aside your relationship had shifted slightly because of this. He would always say no to your request with little more explanation then he already has. Like he was speaking to a determined little kid who just didn’t understand that it wasn’t healthy to lick the swing-set seat.

This was another common factors about Midgardians; you were a determined people. Even when it wasn’t healthy. You continued to mention, to ask, to ask that he at least tries to save himself a trip.

The simple fact is you wouldn’t be able to handle his hunger. His strength was already almost too much in bed, how would you handle it when the safe word doesn’t work?

Bucky Barnes:

These are side-effects from the experimental serum. With the strength and speed came the hunger. Something added to the concoction to make his targets something he needs to obliterate, that it would feed him and keep him aligned no matter what.

Now, free from those monsters and masters, he still feels it poking at the back of his mind. Shaking his head to scramble the thoughts, but they form again and talk again and again.

That his target smiles at him almost every day, that you hold his hand and stay close and sleep beside him almost every night does not help. But he has control. He has enough control to allow you close. Enough to kiss you and drag his teeth along your neck without breaking the skin.

It’s easiest when he can’t see your face. When you’re just another bit of walking life he can fuck and touch and mean nothing. It’s seeing you; your face, your voice, your eyes that he feels the hunger. But not to simply obliterate, he wants a drink and he wants you forever.

Natasha Romanoff:

The change happened and life moved on.

“Nothing really changes because of this,” Natasha had said, focusing on the TV screen instead of you. “Missions are now at night and I never get a shake again, that’s all. Nothing I can’t handle.”

You really shouldn’t have brought it up. Not when it’s a chill night where no one is expected to call and all that matters was the next episode to watch. But you had to say something, asking how she’s doing. When you didn’t like the answer, a little more digging had to be done.

In the recent weeks the only time you’ve seen that blush in her cheeks was while she drank from her solid cup. It was bright orange with a black straw that hid it’s contents. A stark contrast from the see-through glass cups she used to drink her shakes through. That cup sat on the coffee table in front of you. Blending in with your own cup of the same make, but blue instead of orange.

Her bare legs across yours were smooth and soft as you gently caressed them. She faintly smelled like raspberries from the expensive body-wash (one of Nat’s few vices) you would borrow sometimes.

“Don’t lie to me,” You say, focused on the delicious legs that you squeezed. Either as a massage or as your personal stress ball.

She looks at you now. Although her eyes are the same color the difference was still there. Maybe a little more shine, or the pupils were naturally wider than a regular human, it’s hard to tell.

“It sucks, it really fucking sucks and there’s I or you can do.” She says, her hand on the back of your neck. “Nothing we can do; we just have to keep going. But it’s going to be okay, okay?”

You don’t agree, but you also don’t argue. It’s not going to be okay, these things will never be, but there’s no use in arguing. Anyone in your position would wish for something different. Anyone would wish for the hand on your neck, and the legs in your lap, to be at least a little warm.

T’challa:

His people had a special word for it, but you couldn’t really pronounce it. This word described it in both the realm of science and in legend. The Queen mother had explained it to you as a legend, a small curse that sometimes happens when the Heart-shaped herb is taken in. That he’ll be stronger than others before him, but it came at a price of being forever hungry and a creature of the night.

Shuri had explained it medically but gave nothing that the Queen Mother didn’t already say. That this hunger was just a side-effect of the herb. Panthers before him had the same problem, that they handled it through ‘volunteers’ and enemies alike.

This was your new responsibility. Now more then the partner to The panther, partner to the king. You were his volunteer that sat in a chair twice a day, your own little throne in the corner of Shuri’s lab. With a tube leading into your arm and a nice glass of orange juice on the other side.

T’challa has only seen you in the throne once. When he was meandering about his kingdom, just happening to stop by the lab when you were down there. His steps now quieter than the “sneak-ers” Shuri could have made. There wasn’t a chance that you’d notice he was in the same room, not until the glass was empty that you bothered looking up. Seeing T’challa but not having enough time to say anything before he was gone again.

Pietro Maximoff:

A thumping heart beats faster then a stationary one. Be it from fear, or excitement or an orgasm, that moment was the best to take a bite. This thought first came to Pietro’s mind when a particularly scary moment came during a movie. Although you wouldn’t admit to being scared, his light fingers on your pulse told another story.

By the time he got you back in the car your pulse had leveled out. Annoyance on both your parts at Pietro not being able to hide his disappointment.

It was only an hour or two later that he found your pulse racing again. When your back was pressed against his chest and a hand under your knee kept it raised. Toes in the air curling and flexing in a way that made language a very hard thing to comprehend.

Your pulse is lighting up from his hold under your knee. The physical equivalence of a heavenly aroma coming from a freshly baked pie.

Just like the cartoon characters he was compared to, he couldn’t resist. The bite on your shoulder was an extra piece of weight pressed on the already crushing sensation of your orgasm. Although you had barely noticed the bite Pietro had drank his fill from just a few minutes of your groans and moans.

Falling face first into sleep after words was a rarity for you. Waking up with drool on your pillow and chin, and a headache that could be compared to a hangover.

Guilt was evident on Pietro as he was quick to get you a water, some breakfast from wherever, anything, anything at all. What he was guilty about, you didn’t exactly know at that moment. Making a mental note to interrogate him later. For now you would just enjoy the pampering.

Peter Parker:

Something was up with Peter; he had expressed this to you a few times. Mentioned a few times to his friends and to Aunt May that he wasn’t feeling too hot.

And feeling hot he was not. The exact opposite of a fever was happening as you placed a hand to his forehead. Aunt May keeping him from school and you keeping him from anything else. To keep an eye on him Aunt May would bring him to some of her shifts at the hospital. Parking his butt in the On-call room and stopping in whenever she could.

Stopping by the hospital Aunt May caught you coming in. Arms carrying the homework he was missing and the books you were going to force him to read. She, as every time, thanked you for coming and spoke in an almost whisper.

“Thank you so much for coming again, I really appreciate this.” She says, looking around like a secret mission while digging through her pocket. Handing off a key to the apartment, newly minted. “Would you mind taking him home? I’m gonna be late and I think Julian is going to snitch if Peter’s here any longer.”

“Sure thing, Aunt May, I’ll take care of him.” You say, off to your mission.

The key to getting in at any hospital is to walk like you know where you’re going. Even if you don’t, and you’re in the wrong building, walk like you own the place, like you have something important to tell the president, like someone just back talked your woman-folk. This was the sure-fire way to not be stopped. Even when walking into a room specific for staff.

The few days before you would walk in to see brown hair keeping out from the side where Peter would be sitting. Almost catatonic staring at the TV or magazine that the room provided. This time there was someone different, accidentally walking around the couch to find a medical intern dozing off where your man should have been. Making eye-contact and quickly turning away was the entirety of that interaction.

The bathrooms was the next train of thought where Peter could have been. Your stride had slowed but stayed strong as you walked to the bathrooms. Knocking a few times on the boys before you peeked your head in, nothing.

The amount of time you spent wondering around the hospital was longer than anyone would have liked to admit. Your strides losing the momentum of an important person walking through their halls to a confused, lost, girl trying to find an invisible boy.

It’s only after passing a door in the deep reaches of the hospital that you stop for a second. Perhaps hanging out with Peter had gotten you some second-hand spidey-sense. Even if that wasn’t the case, opening the heavy door the same color of white as the walls was the key to your missing man.

He sits in the cold storage room with his legs open and empty bags around him. At one point the shelves were probably full with red bags hanging up, waiting to be put to use. Now the bottom two rows were practically empty as Peter bit into the top like an ice cream cone. Instead of white or chocolate smearing his face it was thin red color covering the lower half of his face.

Seeing you in the doorway, look of shock and horror on your face, he didn’t stop drinking. His eyes were wide and sad while staring up at you. Like a little kid that broke his arm and was standing at the kitchen door, waiting for Mom to notice and help. His eyes were starting to glisten, and tears were on the edge of his eyes, spilling over and cleaning streaks down his cheeks.

The pattern almost writing ‘help me’ on his cheeks.

Stephen Strange:

It wasn’t that he exactly lied, he just didn’t tell you what was going on. Brushing off all of your concerns as nothing more then a “little disease, nothing major” that you stupidly trusted. The man was so confident in his control of the situation that he would even ask you to grab him one of his “drinks” when you would grab yours from the fridge.

It’s only when he gets a little too cocky that you find out. An actual blood bag with a damn twisty straw coming out of it rested in his hand while working on a laptop.

“How long has this been going on?” You demand, as if his condition was the same to having an affair. “Stephen, how long?”

The worst part was how he didn’t seem to be ashamed about his secret. Only closing his laptop when you wouldn’t him brushing the issue off. Sitting with his hands in a steeple and looking at you while talking.

“It’s been three months, almost four.” He explains. “While scouting another realm a creature, something like a bat, latched onto me. I returned and the symptoms started a few days later.”

“The sore throat thing, that’s what it was? You fucked around with a multi-verse and got infected.” You say, making sure you were on the same page.

“Well, it was an actual sore throat.” He says.

“Stephen, stop.” You say, knowing that this wouldn’t be going anywhere. You would just become more upset while he wouldn’t understand what the problem was.

Matt Murdock:

Only once before could Matt remember not hearing anything. When the world was silent but the touch of everything was louder than a jet engine. That moment was created from pride and a specialized gunshot, and it was a moment in hell.

This one was created by ignoring a bite wound (a tetanus shot should have been good enough) and equally ignoring the changes in his body. By the time his heart slowed to nothing in the middle of the night it was too late. He was dead, but the hunger was alive.

It only became something more than an extreme annoyance when you had interfered. The knife you used cutting farther then you had meant to through the steak. Just deep enough to make you cry out. Dropping the knife and holding your hand. Sucking on the thick skin just below your thumb, turning away as if Matt could even see what was going on.

You could hear him get up from the couch, walking across the apartment to you.

“Cheap knife and cheaper steak, what’d did I expect.” You say, your wounded hand pulled away from your chest by Matt. “I doubt I’ll need stitches just a band-aid…What the actual fuck are you doing?”

His touch is as gentle as ever. Yet this did little to distract you from him lifting your hand to his mouth. Pressed so close under his nose that it smeared a bit of red on the underside of his nose.

“Mathew,” You say, concerned but not ripping your hand away yet.

It’s when his mouth opens, and he groans, that you try and pull away. His grip now stronger than vice could ever be. One hand holding your wrist, the other almost crushing your fingers. Keeping you from pulling away or escaping.

“Mathew, Matt stop!” Was the last thing he hears before going for a stronger source of the blood. Your smell of sweat and fear intoxicating as he bit into the crook of your arm.

Unlike last time the silence of the world wasn’t a terrifying thing that he screamed at. It wasn’t even something he noticed. All that mattered was the warmth and love and taste of everything on earth coming through his brain and right into his absolute core.

The neighbors have learned to stop caring about the noises that come from the Murdock apartment. With a blind man, brick walls and an almost constant stream of people coming in to yell at him the neighbors have learned to tune it out. A screaming woman from his apartment in the last months to years was also nothing new.

The only thing that could save you was the sating of his hunger. And that only happens after your legs have given out and voice is hoarse. Still muttering Matt’s name when he starts to hear once more.

Carol Danvers:

In all magic and the unexplained there is always a small amount of structure to be found. The specific set of rules that the creature or spell or whatever has to follow or be destroyed. One of these, pertaining to the vampire, was the sun.

A few minutes in the unforgiving rays and there shouldn’t be too much damage on the monsters. But a bite right to the hot, powerful source of the sun’s cousin? That’s a one-way trip to absolute obliteration.

Carol described the slight second of surprise the bastard had before exploding. She smiled and handed off your drink while trying to imitate the face it had made. Flopping back onto the couch next to you, mentioning that it had bitten her and then poof!

“You were bit by a vampire?” You ask, drink not yet touching your lips.

She nods, setting her bottle down with an almost aggressive click on the coffee table. Without her longer hair she couldn’t make a production of showing off her neck. Instead tilting her head to the side and pulling her shirt off of her shoulder. Showing two little dots of black on her neck. Gentle fingers touching the dots with a smile.

“I didn’t even notice until it exploded,” She says.

Leaning forward and then back you start to talk. “You were bit by a vampire, and you just came home like nothing? Babe, seriously?”

She looks at you for just a second before her face falls. “I didn’t get infected or anything…” But her eyes are looking else where for a second.

That was all you needed to know that she did not get tested or anything. Even with all the technology that could test anything. Shaking your head you stand up from the couch. Carol calling “Babe,” after you, not even considering what she could do differently.

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