#valki fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefanficmonster · 2 years

Note

Hello hello it is I! ( yes I changed my name but please I'm still Kia 😊 )

Wow it's been a WHILE. Hello again I hope you've been taking care of yourself and your loved ones .

Today I have a request!

The amigops realizing that someone put something on your drink ( Drugs, etc. )

It can be as you wish! Separate or All at the same time ( I just want you do have a good time with it 😘 )

And that's all from me!! Again remember to take care of yourselves!! And stay healthy!! Ba Bai!

PSD- Luv ya! 💞

Omg hi Kia! I've missed you so much I'm so happy to be hearing from you again, how have you been? Also really sorry for the long wait for your request but here it is finally and I hope you enjoy it 💕

Platonic Pairing: The Amigops & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Attempted Drugging, Alcohol Consumption, Violence/Mild Physical Altercation, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Protective Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: see request above

Sykkuno

It was your idea to wind down at a bar in the middle of the week

It took a bit of convincing but you managed to drag Sykkuno along with you

Being a Tuesday, the bar was rather quiet

While the two of you were chatting in the calm atmosphere, out of the blue, the bartender set down another glass next to the one containing the drink you'd ordered yourself

When you gave him a questioning look all he did was shrug and direct your gaze a few seats over to where a man you didn't recognize was sitting

"His treat", the bartender says as if he's been through this time and time again and simply cannot be bothered

One glance at the guy was more than enough to convince you not to want to give him another, let alone touch the drink he bought you

You didn't want to give him anything he could see as encouragement

But Sykkuno soon gave you another reason to not consume the drink

"He definitely put something in that."

His words caught your attention with a quirked brow, "Huh? How do you know?"

"It's just like mine, but fizzier." He pointed out and one look comparing the two glasses proved him right

The drinks were the same, but yours was roaring like a volcano

Your stomach turned but you pulled yourself together quickly and made a point to push the glass further away for good measure, "Fucking creep."

"Let's get out of here. We'll find a different bar." Sykkuno offered helpfully

And you couldn't have possibly agreed quicker

Valkyrae

You and Rae had made plans to go out and celebrate her new place for almost a month at that point

Now that you finally got around to it, one step in the bar and Rae immediately regretted not looking more into the bars in the area of her new home

The place was sketchy from floor to ceiling but with sore feet from all the furniture shopping you'd done, you decided to sit down for at least one drink and rest

After ordering your drink, you got up to answer an incoming call, leaving Rae to wait for the ordered drinks

When the bartender set them down, Rae gave her a brief smile but before she could return her gaze to her phone she caught an out-of-the-corner-of-the-eye glance of the guy sitting on the bar stool left of the one you'd planted yourself in

His eyes were sizing up your glass almost too obviously for it to be just a thousand yard stare

But when she saw the small plastic bag he retreated from his pocket, she was determined to not give him even a sliver of the benefit of the doubt

The two reached for the drink at the same time, with Rae reaching it and grabbing it first

The guy had no time to react before the liquid he was about to tamper with soaked his face and shirt

And then got a second dose from Rae's own drink as well as a round of insults before she hopped off the bar stool to fetch you and, sore feet be damned, drag you to a different bar

When asked why, as to not freak you out, she said some guy was flirting rather aggressively with her

No further questions asked, you hauled ass to a different, far more welcoming bar

Toast

You'd texted him to join you for a drink after arriving at the bar yourself

Unfortunately (or rather fortunately) he arrived at the bar while you were in the bathroom, but according to your seating position description via text, as well as the drink sitting by the empty stool by the bar corresponding with your usual choice of a drink, he got a good idea of where you were seated and started heading in that direction

However, something stopped him

The sight of the guy sitting nearby getting up from his stool and heading over to your unsupervised drink

He didn't see the exact thing, but Toast was more than able to draw a solid conclusion as to what the guy was doing

One foot out of the bathroom and you immediately managed to spot him even with the dim lighting

You exchanged a quick, and pretty distracted on his part, greeting, hugging him before trying to lead him to the spot you’d chosen to occupy

But seeing the serious, downright angry look on his face told you not to move

It’s a particularly rare occurrence to find Toast with an expression this frosty and ticked-off so you too were quick to become on-edge

Following his gaze to a stranger whose back was currently facing you only arose more questions but you never got to ask them because he beat you to speaking up

“Let’s get out of here, Y/N.“

You didn’t think to ask much after that, allowing him to lead you out of the bar instead of you leading him to the barstools

You did still ask later on and were rather terrified by the answer

But also extremely relieved and grateful to have had Toast then and there

Real friends are at the right place at the right time for one another always, no?

Corpse

You and Corpse have known each other too long and too well

Both of you’d go as far as to say that there are only very few things about one another that would surprise you

However, when you’d called Corpse in near-distress from a bar you’d hit with your colleagues after work, he’d been more than surprised

He was scared, genuinely and rightfully so

You’re not a lightweight, but you can’t exactly hold your liquor well either

Regardless, you wouldn’t be slurring-wordly drunk from a single cocktail

The room would most definitely not be spinning around you the way it was

And of course, calling it ‘a single cocktail’ could’ve been a way for you to downplay just how much alcohol you’d consumed

But it truly didn’t sound like it over the phone when you called Corpse to come pick you up cause you were certain you wouldn’t be able to drive yourself home

You too were genuinely confused by the falling-through of your sobriety under the weight of a single Margarita

That was the main reason Corpse didn’t fear a speeding ticket on your way to fetch you, keeping the gas pedal firmly grounded under his foot till he reached the bar and found you outside by the curb

Trying to ward off a guy with painfully obvious sleazy and malevolent intentions

The car had barely come to a stop when he jumped out of it, taking a stance as tall as can be, his uncovered eye glaring daggers at the creep who, upon noticing the significantly taller man present, was quick to shrivel up and crawl back into the hellhole he’d come out of, allowing you both a sigh of relief before Corpse drove you back to his place

The gravity of the situation only hit your hazy brain properly the following morning when your stomach was finally starting to disagree with the substance the creep undoubtedly inserted in your drink

Corpse was there through it all for you, offering nothing but comforting and reassuring words to bring a smile to your face despite your tear-shiny eyes

Like a true friend would

154 notes · View notes

lazy-cat-corner · 1 year

Text

It’s done! 3 years later but it’s done!

#enters fandom holding a starbucks #valki #loki #valkyrie #brunnhilde valkyrie #thor #marvel #avengers #mcu #thor fanfiction #thor fanfic

14 notes · View notes

eorzeashan · 1 year

Text

Eiengiri

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, blood.

Pairings: Jadus/M!Imp Agent

Rating: M

Word Count: 3858

Summary: An exploratory series of snapshots of KOTFE/ET, where the Outlander becomes what he is framed as from the beginning. Spans perspectives concerning Eight (agent), Jadus, Lana, Theron, Arcann.

Your destiny is fire and flames, famine and blood, in the arms of the one whose darkness falls like rain…

He dreams for five years. For five years Eight drifts in the abyss, out of time and space.

The first year the silence is so agonizing he could scream. Where once the curtain of enfeebling night was his ally, a sign of his domain, the all-encompassing sensation of being wrapped in his Lord’s embrace, it was a cold, comfortless stranger now.

He can't hear him.

He can't feel him.

He disintegrates into pieces– fodder in the water sinking beneath the waves, the anchor he called his Lord no longer reaches out to catch him.

This must be what the Dread Masters felt before they went mad, he thinks. He tries to sleep.

In his restless dreams, he smells smoke.

The second year he has not yet become accustomed to the loss– but he no longer waits for the sound of his voice to pierce the veil of emptiness.

It's been so long. He never remembered being so alone in all his lifetimes. Ice seeps into his bones, heavy with grief. He dreams of fire that cloaks the skies.

The third year is nothingness.

A hunger that gnaws, hollowing him inside and out with the sheer need to run free, to breathe, to bite down on shimmering warmth and supple skin- The dream ends abruptly, and he is bereft.

The fourth year… It’s the same dream again. He is in all white, stained up to the neck in rough accents of red, drenched in it. His feet are so laden by the viscosity of it caking his soles that he struggles to move forward through the reddened snow. Whether it is his or another's is irrelevant; in this slate-clean landscape, nothing remains. Someone is calling him. He can barely hear it above the deafening silence that permeates every inch of the snowfield. He has to go.

Someone is… It's the same dream again.

The fifth year, he awakens.

“This will hurt,” greets a familiar voice. It’s not the one he longed for – a cruelty that comes with the dregs of hope. A sharp, shooting pain lances through his abdomen, spreading like toxin, and though he collapses out of the carbonite chamber to his knees and screams, not a sound comes out. The emptiness had been with him for far too long. No suffering now would compare.

This deeply disconcerts Lana, who kneels down to check his vitals. “Thank goodness.” She breathes, worry flickering in her ochre Sith eyes, “For a second there I’d thought the carbonite had damaged your lungs, rendered you mute.”

Eight says nothing, merely closing his eyes and steadying himself against the railing of the durasteel catwalk as if it were his lifeline. His head rings with the echo of thousands of unanswered [connections]. The stars dance overhead. The shadows creep out of the corner of his vision. He claps both gloves over his throbbing eyelids, the searing light borne out of imprisonment too much to bear.

Feel. Feel.

A little astromech droid he doesn’t recognize chirps at them. Vault guards = arriving // Lana + Agent = get ready!

Lana’s concern returns in the form of the pert of her lips and the deep twist between her brow. She grabs him by the bicep, pulling him away. “Eight. We have to go. We’ll be surrounded any minute now, and I’ve staked far too much on this plan to leave you here. I know you're tired, but you must fight through it; the galaxy depends on it!”

Feel. Feel. Feel.

Wait.

He knows this. To be lost in the void. To be found in the darkness. To open yourself up to him.

Lana’s cries fade into the background of the klaxon of alarms and thundering boots as he drowns all else out, focusing on nothing save for the blackness of the depths and the wizened heart that hadn't beat in his chest for half a decade. The air leaves his lungs like gas exiting a corpse. He holds fast.

Feel.

Allow your body to betray you.

Feel.

Allow your heart to slow.

Feel.

Allow your blood to boil.

FEEL ME.

The darkness closes in, smothering the light from his eyes.

Lana cuts down one skytrooper, then another. She whirls around amidst blaster fire, bisecting it cleanly in half. “Eight! We have to-” The words die in her throat midway.

Eight climbs to his feet, the movement loose and unnatural. He flops forward with no tension holding his upper half up, knees buckled inward.

Lana is struck by a delayed warning in the Force before an overpowering presence hits her full-force with all the power of a careening Umbaran magrail; her knuckles go white gripping her saber with such intensity she fears she will shatter the hilt.

It’s enough to break her focus, granting a fatal opening for a Zakuulan Knight to cleave downwards on her skull.

Eight’s wrist is limp when he extends an arm that barely holds itself up. He points one finger that hinges like a rusted joint.

The Zakuulan Knight freezes mid-swing.

Lana snaps out of her reverie to reposition herself; she doesn't need to. The next seconds play out like a holo-film on loop before her eyes:

First, the helmet lifts. It turns to the side. Eight makes a grabbing motion with both hands– he twists. Lana hears the distinct crack of bone, of a broken neck. She pales.

The Knight’s head spins off their neck in a cascading spray of red.

The headless body falls to its knees. Lana steps backward as it thuds at her feet, crimson liquid seeping out from an empty hole where a head once was– long discarded by Eight, who now collapses against the railing as if afflicted by a second bout of hibernation sickness.

A stunned silence falls over the entering guard force and Lana feels the atmosphere of the room darken perceptibly. The heavy stench of fear and iron fills her nostrils, and Lana de-ignites her saber. The broken body of their comrade lay in pieces on the floor, leaking red.

The Knights retreat a foot back, then turn tail and run.

She can't blame them for their cowardice. She blasts the non-organic stragglers to mechanical pieces, returning her attention to the one she'd come for.

The taint of the Dark Side staining the room fills her with power, yet brings no pleasure to her pained expression as she approaches her friend. Her friend, who had accomplished a miracle with no ounce of the Force in his system.

“Eight. Can you hear me?” She asks him, gently, where she knew her voice would only be grating.

He doesn't answer, again. Her hand hovers above his shoulder. Did something go wrong with the treatment? Was he hurt? Did he need-

Do not touch him.

Lana refrains from leaping out of her skin at that moment, but feels a pang of anger in her chest at the full-body jolt that overtakes her. She narrows her eyes. She has had enough surprises this day, especially of the unplanned kind. The voice in her mind boils like molten tar.

“Who are you?” She demands, authoritative, trying to wrench some semblance of control back from the situation.

Succeed in your mission. We will speak after.

“You can't just-” Lana’s protests are cut off as the presence leaves her mind. She doesn’t have time to dwell on it; her holocom rings. Koth.

“Yes, I read you,” She answers briskly, throwing caution to the wind and dragging Eight along by the hand, unnamed voices be damned.

He’s as pliant and meek as a newborn nerf calf, wholly uncharacteristic for the man they lauded as one of the Empire’s greatest Ciphers- not that it helped to absolve him of such crimes in these unstable times.

“An updated timetable would be good!” Koth Vortena pipes up from within his ship.

“We’re on schedule. There were some complications, but I have him.” Lana deposits Eight against a wall and forces the next gate open– or at least tries to, as the blast door slams back shut with a creak of straining metal.

Skepticism colors Koth’s voice when he next speaks. “Great– uh, is there a reason why he’s not talking? He’s not a vegetable, is he? Because I really, really don’t want this crazy suicide mission to be for a corpse.”

“Not now, Koth,” Lana grits out, sweat rolling down her pale forehead as she struggles against the weight of the blast doors. They roll open, finally, and she grabs Eight again to charge on through– back into the fray.

----------------------------

They call him Outlander. The assassin of the Emperor.

It’s not true, of course. Not yet.

When Lana tells him of the state of the galaxy, he inclines his head, listens intently, absorbs the information and processes it. Five years worth of galactic decay are his new world now. He should be surprised; perhaps even showcase fear, anger, shock, dismay like anyone else would.

He does none of these things.

He can accept change on the grandest of terms. All he needs is to change with it; yet the weapon he must become is not made clear.

What will be my new name?

Why did you save me?

What will it take for this war to end?

Who will I become, if not Eight?

So, he asks.

“Tell me who I need to be.”

----------------------------

Jadus arrives, as promised.

Lana reels in her shock– it’s not everyday one comes face to face with the Sith even Valkorion lauded as second to him in power, and for all the years she’d known her erstwhile agent, she had never once heard Eight speak a word to her about his mysterious… patron. She remained unclear on the details, and made a mental note to press him about it later.

If she’d only gotten him to open up during their work together, she could have predicted this.

She laments over it only briefly; their relationship was never as close as it could have been and in those halcyon days of Rishi, Eight had shared more camaraderie with Theron in the end. He was a fickle thing, always choosing the path of most resistance that left either her or Theron stomping out in frustration half of the time. Then once the dust cleared, his recklessness would pay off and the loser in those duels of choice would look rather foolish for not siding with his rather astute reasoning hidden under a guise of blunt daring.

It was frustrating, how his line of thinking eluded them and kept them at a distance neither she nor Theron could cross. It was just how he was. For Force’s sake, his name was a number.

It was for that reason he could keep such secrets from them. This one had just so happened to decide it was time to collect.

“You kept Valkorion out of his mind for five years,” Lana enunciates, trying to rationalize it to herself aloud. It sounded crazy, as most events did this past cycle. “Your bond allowed you to keep him alive and weaken the Emperor for a time. When I rescued him, he could barely stand. He used the Force. Was that your doing?”

Jadus makes no movement whatsoever; not even a twitch stirs inside the facelessness of his mask. He is eerie to watch, borderline mechanical, and his voice is as unblemished as stone weathered for centuries. “Yes.”

What ferocious power, she thinks, with a shudder. Were they trading one monster for another?

“And now you approach us to…join the Alliance.”

“I am no one’s ally,” Jadus’ voice booms in the Force, quiet as it is to the untrained bare ear, “Your forces are divided. Weak. The Emperor seeks to deceive you at every turn, and you stumble blind as babes in the night. I would guide them, with my Hand at my side.” As is owed. As is my right.

Lana does not need to hear the words to glean their underlying meaning. “With all due respect,” She says carefully, aware that this may be the last remaining Dark Council Member with which she could conduct herself before, “this is not the Sith Empire. What authority you enjoyed previously is all but moot here, and I cannot convince them to accept another Lord on a whim.”

She folds her arms behind her back, an Imperial habit. “As for your ‘Hand’, he is my friend that I risked my life and many others to save. Forgive me if I am not so trusting as to give him up to the first Sith that asks.”

“Your loyalty is admirable,” Jadus intonates, a rumble that reaches the confines of her chest, “Yet it is unwelcome. I do not need to be lectured on how to lead armies, or how to make soldiers out of the feeblest of men. You call him your companion; he was mine long before you formed a blip in his destiny. I will not be denied.”

This time, an undercurrent of anger runs through his curt voice, hot like electrified wire and bordering on combustion.

Lana knows she is outmatched amidst the growing pressure. She remains unfazed. “I-”

“That’s enough, Lana. It’s alright.” The subject of their conversation enters the meeting room, and both Sith turn their undivided attention to the source. The palpable tension in the air dissipates.

“Eight!” Lana says, eyes widening. “You should be in bed. What happened to Koth? I told him to keep an eye on you.”

“He’s remarkably easy to lose,” Eight chirps with mischief creeping on his face, “this makes it the twelfth time I’ve ditched him in the cantina.”

Lana resists the heavy urge to roll her eyes. Children. She worked with children.

She quickly notices that Eight is staring straight past her at Jadus, who seems to be doing the same. Her gaze flicks between them, not understanding the connection between the two.

She catches Eight’s eye, if for a moment, who looks at her– then nods, assuaging her need to be on the defensive. She wasn’t sure about leaving him alone with Darth Jadus of all people, but he had never been wrong on his decisions as of late. She had no need to butt in on a matter so deeply personal to the agent if he did not wish it, and Lana had seen what betraying the fragile trust of spies had wrought before.

When she turns to leave, she catches a fragment of the conversation that floats out the door as it slides closed behind her.

“My Lord.”

“My bride. Come.”

She understood very little indeed.

----------------------------

Jadus takes over as Commander of the Alliance, after Eight vouches for him with his whole breath. He makes the argument that his role to play differs, and Jadus excels in leading from the shadows. It would be foolish to have their Commander act as the Outlander at the same time, who must be seen to take the greatest effect in the minds and hearts of the Zakuulans.

Lana is unsure about it as with most of his reasons, but there’s no further argument coming from her. Theron is…displeased, to say the least.

“I don’t trust him,” Theron gets out gruffly, direct with his insults as usual.

“You don’t have to as long as you agree with his decisions.” Eight sits primly in a cantina chair opposite him, sipping on a cocktail as peacefully as a vacationer in Zeltros.

Theron throws up his hands. “That’s not what I– Lana, can you back me up here? You see where I’m coming from.” For once, Theron looks to her with pleading eyes that manage to still be defaced by his scowling.

“We’ve come to a consensus already, Theron. Perhaps you could exercise trusting our Outlander a bit more?” She smiles, the rub successfully getting under the SIS spy’s skin as he frowns even further.

“Oh don’t you– I trust him,” He gesticulates to Eight, who snickers quietly beneath his breath, “I never signed up to trust Darth Jadus. That’s a can of Gizka eggs I said we shouldn’t open.”

“You’re losing it, Theron.”

“Don’t get me started on you! Since when were you married?!”

Lana stifles a laugh behind her asymmetrical glove. The two spies go off on each other like they’d never been apart, easing into the familiarity of being around one another with her as the median. If she squinted, she could picture them very clearly having the same conversation around the crackling fire of their hut in Rishi.

If she closed her eyes, she could pretend they’d never left.

----------------------------

They call him Outlander. Assassin. Eternity killer.

They learn his cry is the death toll rung, and where he flies, a head is soon lost. That mysterious figure clad in finery white as fallen snow becomes the object of their loathing, and for others, their fervent adoration. Like a specter on the battlefield, he appears to those decreed by Zildrog’s hand to enter nothingness; only the worthy may see him. Only the worthy may face him. Only the worthy may feel the frigid ice that bites into their neck when his blade finds its mark.

Prince Arcann decries him as a figment of mass hysteria.

The Scions argue otherwise, and he threatens to cut their tongues for their baseless faith. Rumors and backwards thinking, he dismisses it as, but even he cannot deny that this was in part, his doing.

To name your enemy is to give them life, and the Outlander had sprung forth from the weakest foundations of their society to manifest as a vengeful spirit that encompassed their desire for the end, to see it all crumble beneath a veneer of gold and glory. Zakuul had been born from destruction, its creation myth more a tale of wanton nihilism than anything else. All fables and myths he saw fit to burn with the legacy of his father.

A demon, like Valkorion himself; a spirit from the furthest plains that had come from Zildrog’s bosom to usher them to the end times. What foolishness.

Yet as that same figure crashes through the skylight of the Eternal spire in a cascade of broken glass, their ghostly frame illuminated by moonlight, bloodied and beautiful, he thinks he may start to believe.

Their eyes meet, his enraged yellow on their rich, deep darkness, and his pupils contract; where he expects a fury and hatred to match his own he sees…sees nothing but serenity. How can this be?

He raises his lightsaber to meet the blade that aims for his head, and they finally come face-to -ace. The force of their clash blows back the silken hood of his adversary and he is paralyzed by the sight.

A tranquility as unrippled as the skein of a lake. No. Not just an inner peace that staves off his unmatched fury…this emotion is…

The Outlander is overjoyed.

“Your head is mine!”

Arcann’s mask leaves his face in a spray of blood and searing pain, but all he can feel is the biting cold that overtakes him as he falls backwards. As he sees light through his other eye for the first night since the war, he sees him.

He reaches in vain for that distant warmth, so far out of his grasp.

What has he done?

“Thexan… brother. Was this what you-”

The throne room collapses beneath him in fire and flames. Arcann plunges into hell.

----------------------------

The Commander and the Outlander are inseparable. This, the Eternal Alliance realizes quickly.

Their leader and their public figurehead are enjoy each others company so often that it becomes difficult to see them apart, though the sight of a white-clad assassin clinging fast to a shadow that towers over them all is a rarity few are privy to.

Lana makes sure their privacy is respected, as that seems to be the only reward they ask for. She grants their request to be given joint quarters far from the rest, nestled in the thicket of Odessen’s deepest woods.

What goes on in their sanctuary is unknown to the rest, but on a quiet night where one is alone with their heartbeat and the silence of falling snow, it is rumored that personnel may catch a glimpse of the Outlander standing in the midst of their training grounds with sword in hand, the other outstretched to catch the flakes that blanket Odessen in winter.

It’s a gentle look for the man who was made to kill Emperors. They say he glows with the love he has for the Commander, who showers him with his own in turn.

Their Commander- the former Darth called Jadus.

Jadus’ knowledge of information flow, fear tactics, and aged experience prove to be invaluable and what misgivings others had of him slowly dwindle away; the Outlander’s reassurances of his infallible strength are proven to be true and this inspires hope in even the most callous of their troops. But it is not the proof of his abilities that convince them he is a man they can place their faith into; rather, it is the romance that blooms between him and their Outlander that cements their loyalty.

The Outlander goes on the frontlines where the Commander does not. He always returns with a smile as sharp and wicked as the curved edge of his vibrosword to his beloved’s side, who turns demure the instant Jadus looks upon him and the victories he places at his feet like a feline with a gift.

For the greatest of Sith to allow this weakness into his impenetrable heart convinces the skeptics of his humanity, and those who would ordinarily decry it as weakness simmer in quiet envy at the apparent devotion his former Hand has for him where no Sith has ever inspired it.

Theron doesn't understand it himself, but what he gleans from it is this: their union guarantees unity in the ranks between Sith and non-Sith alike, and those are results he won't argue with.

A good love story makes even better propaganda, and support for the Alliance swells as their Intelligence unit spins the tale of a lovestruck Echani general fighting a guerilla front against the Eternal Empire to avenge their fallen spouse– a story that resonates with the thousands scattered across the galaxy that were separated from their loved ones in the early days of the war.

Eventually the Outlander’s exploits reach even the furthest shores of his home planet of Eshan, who express the thrill that the latest hero of the rebellion is one of their own. They send him gifts: the long-sleeved delicate robe of the unmarried as pure as the hue of his hair, the lightest of Echani-forged armor to wear beneath, and the finest of vibroblades borne from the designs of countless blades that met conflict against those who wielded the Force.

He dons these, and his persona as the Outlander is made complete. He is no longer Eight, agent of the Empire, Hand of Jadus.

He is remade: he is the Outlander, hero of the Eternal Alliance.

Assassin of the Eternal Throne.

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #jadus x imperial agent #kotfe/et #oc: orradiz #cipher eight au #curse my inability to directly tell shit and instead make it weird and trippy #I like writing characters like figures of myth as you can tell #'thats what your six sentences was?!' you like how my exposed wips resemble nothing of the final product #in case it isnt clear: the Outlander is not the Commander #rather these are two separate roles #the Outlander is the assassin figure that will destroy zakuul and a hodgepodge of rumors depending on which side you ask #the commander is the shadow leader of the alliance #idk what to tag this as dawg #if you can figure out wadda hell im saying in here good on ya #oh look arcann is here too #no Valky this time cuz i need to think about his role #craziest fuckin weekend i ever had suddenly waking up at 3 am and smashing my writers block into bloody little bits #ALSO WAOW Echani culture whewewew like 3 seconds of it #admin writes #jadorre

10 notes · View notes

tetrakys · 2 years

Note

Hello, Tetra.

I am new here, only for Eldarya because yeah, another unsatisfied customer about how ANE has developed, and I have recently found out that on tumblr I am free to read as many fanfictions as I want and I truly wasn't disappointed. I wanted to know if you have written one yourself and if so, on which route. Also I wouldn't say no to recommendations as well, apart from Play with Fire and I am not your enemy, already read and enjoyed deeply.

Lance is my favourite, how surprising, even though I prefer the Ashkore from TO, how surprising again. ;))

Anyways, I am very interested about their plans after finishing ANE. I want it so bad to release different alternate life stories, like what would have happend if Erika had turned her back on the guard and lived a forbidden romance with Ashkore, what if Valkyon survived the final battle and what if Ezarel never left. Also, a little disappointed that Miiko left as well, I remember that I was a hater of her in the first episodes released, and ended up really liking her character development. Actually, the only character that I could stand at the beginning was Ash. :))

AND MORE SPIN-OFFS, THEY WERE AMAZING. The one with Chrome was very funny, the one with Leiftan answered a lot of questions and the one with Valkyon was a little silly but still enjoyable, (maybe I have a thing for dragons, they are my favourite mythical creatures <3). I can't believe how Valky didn't put the pieces together and finally realise it was his brother all along and how he didn't sensed his dragon smell. :'((

What do you think about this whole spin-off/alternate life fiasco?

One last thing, I have read MCL and Henri's Secret back in high school. In MCL I enjoyed the most the original routes, not what they have done with the point system (same for Eldarya) and whatever is going on with UL and LL not a fan. And Henri's Secret was great, I really liked the sweet romance type at that time and I have recently heard that they released season 2 as well and I am kinda skeptical about it because I have seen it two times already how beemoov can destroy their games, and I don't want to risk seeing another game that I loved falling apart. So if you or anyone have played it, tell me does it deserve a chance?

Thank you so much in advance if you'll respond to my message. For their own sake, I wish beemoov will hire you ASAP!!!

Hi anon, welcome to Tumblr! Yes there have been lots of people writing fanfics here throughout the years, I've also enjoyed writing for a little while, my masterlist is here. I also have an AO3 account under the name Tetraktys where I've maybe posted a couple of extra things, mostly my contributions to events organised in my discord server. And when it comes to Eldarya, yeah I mostly wrote about Lance ☺️

Now, about your other questions:

Yes ANE is a big disappointment for me, the latest episode was a let down just like the rest of the season. Finally sleeping with Lance should’ve been the best day of my otome life and instead I felt nothing but sadness for him being a shell of his former self, at this point I only play for the illustrations and the main plot. And yeah I would love more spinoffs and alternate life stories, I selfishly hope people will still invest in the game so that more content will be produced after this season ends.

What do you mean with spinoff/alternate life fiasco?

About MCL, I understand you, I personally love UL but the original boys are the best, who was your favourite? If you haven’t already you should really check out Lys and Kentin's AL episodes because they're great, I can't wait for Armin to be released.

And about Henri's Secret, I really liked season 1, I played the whole thing on Steam in 3 days and it was amazing. I didn’t play season 2 because it was only produced for mobile which I don’t really like, I much prefer playing on pc, and also because most of the plot is about jealousy and drama due to a woman love rival. This is a trope a really dislike. If you want to read more about it, check @crownysworldofficial who played both the revamped S1 and the whole second season and posted illustrations and summaries.

And about Beemoov hiring me, haha thank you for the vote of confidence! Not sure for what purpose they could hire me for, but it'd be funny.

Again, welcome to the fandom! 💕

#mcl #my candy love #eldarya #henri's secret

14 notes · View notes

dreamedsilverwings · 6 years

Text

I need a beta

Hi Valki shippers! I’m kinda a newbie and even if I wanted to participate in the Valki week I didn’t get enough courage to do it since my first language is Spanish and feel like my English is terrible lol. I have some ideas but I would like to have someone to correct me so my fic doesn’t suck that bad. If you are interested and want to know what I’m thinking, there are some ideas, some of them are inspired by prompts of the Valkiweek, so credits @reydiate

If you are interested in some of them, please PM me!

Brunhilde sees Loki in his true form. They got a hearth-to-hearth talk and become friends. He got more and more comfortable in this form and start to spar so he can use his abilities as a frost giant. Something leads to another and they end up making love.

They get married, and after years of being together, they decide that they want to have a baby. What they didn’t expect was that her daughter is the reincarnation of Hela.

Thor gives to the new marriage a litter of kitties. Loki has a lot of work to do.

A kinda messy romance where everyone wants Thor to marry with the last Valkyrie, so Loki gets jealous and wants to steal the bride.

Three-shot:

Sex on S.H.I.E.L.D. installations.

Everyone starts noticing that Brunhilde is pregnant and believe that is Thor’s child, so he offers to marry her so she isn’t going to be repudiated. She says no because she can carry her child on her own. Loki doesn’t know she’s pregnant because he’s still imprisoned on S.H.I.E.L.D.

Brunhilde raises her baby alone, asking help to the Avengers to disappear so her baby can have the most normal life as living with his blue skin can. Loki doesn’t know he has a child because she was too proud to tell him because she doesn’t want him to feel attached to her. He found out and the consequences will be a disaster.

Royal semi-AU (Multi-chapter). Loki as a kid meets the daughters of the general of Valkyrior. He first hates Brunhilde because she became instantly Thor’s friend, but after she and her sisters got into the palace under the care of Frigg, he starts getting feelings for her. They got separated when Brun’s mother toughs that Loki has taken her virginity (she wants her to become a Valkyrie, so she has to be a virgin to enlist, anyway they are too young for that). When they meet again, there is a war involved.

Thor teasing Loki about he having a “Valkyrie fetish” when he found out that they were lovers.

Loki and Brun have to deal with raising a hybrid baby without knowing what to do because a mix of Asgardian and frost giant is not something very common.

Hulk being jealous and saying Loki steals his “Angry girl”.

Semi-AU. The Grandmaster gets involved on an “accident” and Loki now is the ruler of Sakaar and gets a strange infatuation with Scrapper-142.

#Valki #Valki fanfiction #Lokyrie #plz #I need a beta

10 notes · View notes

raven-of-domain-kwaad · 2 years

Text

Whumping the Wrath (aka titles are hard)

Bad AU continuation of this piece I wrote a while ago (though Nox is actually Occlus now that I have a canon Inquisitor)

All inspired by something @palepinkycat sent me that made me laugh with all sorts of “I’m going to hurt my OC” amusement 😂

Also no real editing done, we die like sith on korriban lol

Darth Occlus leaned against her saber pike for a moment as she prepared herself for another long session. At another time she might have been impressed at the prisoner’s resilience and power but now all she felt was frustration at how long it was taking to break her and anger at how much it had cost to catch the prisoner.

A now familiar flare of pain in her back and leg fueled her simmering rage. The plan to capture and control the Wrath should have been a straight forward one. With the combined power of the Dark Council and the new Empress, they should have been able to easily emerge victorious. But they had miscalculated.

The Wrath was far more powerful than any of them had given her credit for. They had all assumed that her skills lay only in unexpected ambushes and lightsaber combat. But it seemed that she had hidden depths of force potential that none of them had known about until it was too late.

Xarion was dead, his body crushed into a twisted mass of blood and guts.

Malora had been fortunate to receive a swift end with her head being cleanly removed from her body.

Vowrawn lost both legs and now had a scar across his face from a slash that had removed one of his face tendrils.

Occlus herself now walked with a limp and had to have extensive cybernetics implanted along her spine to save her from total paralysis.

Even Acina had lost an arm, leg and eye to the Wrath.

Krovos had been the only one of them to remain unscathed and that had been because the honorable warrior refused to fight against the woman that had led them through Zakuul’s invasion.

Occlus scowled as her injuries throbbed painfully. She had respected the Wrath’s leadership during Zakuul’s conquest and had been impressed at her refusal to claim the mantel of Empress. A less experienced Sith would have leapt at the chance to gain such power but the Wrath was anything but inexperienced. Still, now that Zakuul ruled unopposed the Wrath had outlived her usefulness, at least in her current position.

Closing her eyes, Occlus focused on the task at hand. She knew that the Wrath was resilient but she could tell that her resolve was finally starting to waver.

A small smile spread across her face as she reached into her robes to the military ID tags within. Even if the Wrath did not break today, Occlus knew it was only a matter of time. And it would at least be entertaining to see the once powerful Wrath realize just how hopeless her situation was.

Opening her eyes once again, Occlus entered the cell, now looking forward to the day’s activities.

Amarra couldn’t bring herself to raise her head as the door to her cell opened. She had long ago stopped wasting energy on looking up at her visitors. The people that entered her cell only ever came to deliver more pain, so what was the point in looking up at them?

Besides, her visitors never failed to let her know who they were.

Her head jerked to the side as one of Darth Occlus’ metal gauntlets opened a new gash on her face.

She didn’t bother to hide to cry of pain that the blow caused. In the beginning, she had fought hard to keep from making any noise at all. It had been a pointless display of pride but she could not help it. The Dark Council did not deserve her respect or service let alone her screams.

But now?

Now she didn’t care.

As much as she hated to admit it, the endless torture and isolation had finally begun to ware her down. Her mental defenses, which had held strong for over a year of torture and abuse, were beginning to form hairline fractures.

Maybe she could have held out longer if she had been able to rest and recover even a small amount of strength. But the Dark Council had other plans.

For a political body that was perhaps most well known for its bickering and backstabbing power plays, they had apparently found common ground when it came to Amarra. After capturing the Wrath, the Council had begun to work on breaking her will in shifts. One Councilor would torture her in their own way before passing her off to the next Councilor. She never had a moment to rest, save the times she passed out from pain, and she could never anticipate what each new Councilor might do to her.

Vowrawn was quite fond of using both the Force to torture her but he also enjoyed taunting her with food and water that her body so desperately craved. He often set up elaborate meals with mouth watering aromas in her cell and commented on how delicious it all was as his attendants continued her tortures.

Still, she had been able to push through the pain in her aching belly because she knew the Dark Council would not let her starve to death. They wanted a puppet, a weapon. And a weapon was no good to them if it was dead.

Acina was different. The Empress would often use machines to inflict pain. Amarra recalled one particularly painful session when surgical droids had been brought in. They had cut into her flesh with the sole purpose of inflicting as much pain as possible and they had indeed caused her unbelievable levels of suffering. That had been one of the first times when her voice had given out from screaming.

Some small part of her brain that was still capable of rational thought was grateful that she had previously destroyed the Ravager and her sire’s Arcanum. She shuddered to think of the ancient torture devices that Acina might have had access to if she had not destroyed the station.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Occlus grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head up.

A small whine slipped past Amarra’s lips as she was forced to stare into the rattataki’s eyes.

She was met with an all too familiar smile that sent a chill down her spine.

“How nice to see you again, Wrath,” Occlus spoke casually as if they were meeting over drinks.

Amarra didn’t bother trying to respond. Once, she might have spat in Occlus’ face but now she barely had the strength to keep her eyes open.

“Ah, I forgot,” Occlus chuckled. “You’re a woman of few words.” She then pulled a knife from her robes and plunged into into Amarra’s side, grinning at the writhing and cry of pain it caused.

Gasping, Amarra tried to focus on cataloging her new injury. The blade was still in her. Fortunately, it seemed to be short so the wound was relatively shallow. Good. She hated being left to slowly bleed out from deeper wounds.

“Now before we begin, I brought you a gift!” Occlus spoke in a cheerful tone as she reached into her robes for the Imperial ID tags.

Though she didn’t want to, Amarra raised her head. It was better than having Occlus grab her by the hair again.

But as soon as she saw the ID tags in Occlus’ hand, she wished she had just kept her head down.

Biava, Amélie

It was as if Occlus had just reached into her chest and ripped out Amarra’s heart.

No. No, no, no, NO!

She thrashed in her restraints and let out a broken scream of anguish and frustration.

It wasn’t possible! Amélie had fled! She had escaped with Vette, Jaesa and the rest of her allies before the Council’s trap sprang shut!

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to sob. She desperately wanted to reach out with the force, to try and touch Amélie’s mind. To see if she was safe. Or to confirm that she was...

But she couldn’t.

If she reached out then Occlus would take advantage of the opening and Amarra’s mind would no longer be her own.

A ragged sob did escape her this time.

There was nothing she could do.

Occlus had her trapped and she knew it.

The rattataki grinned impishly and pulled additional knives from her robes. “While you try to determine if I am lying or not, why don’t we see how many of these I can stick you with before you pass out?”

Amarra got to thirteen before her weakened and grieving body gave out for the first of many times that day.

#swtor fanfiction #my writing #oc: amarra kine #oc: canja xallaj #sith warrior #sith inquisitor #wanted to get into amarra also having to fight off valky in her dreams but i just couldn't get it to fit right #sadly her connection to her sister that is off trapped in carbonite with their sire means that both waking and sleeping hours suck

22 notes · View notes

aurorawest · 3 years

Text

Title: Not Making This Easy Author: @mareebird Artist: @nonexistenz (lineart) and @aurorawest (colors) Rating: M Major Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Loki/Valkyrie Word Count: 5786 Summary: Adjusting to life in New Asgard takes time, but Loki and The Valkyrie might be struggling the most out of everyone. A one-night stand gives Loki a case of the feels that he can't fully shake, while Brunnhilde defaults to regret of overblown proportions. Or maybe not overblown at all. Maybe hooking up with him might be the worst faux pas imaginable, assumes Loki. But he wants to make a life for himself. He doesn't want to be at war with the Valkyrie. And she was the one who made the move on him anyway! So what gives?

Betaed by @aurorawest

For the @lokirarepairbigbang

Read it here!

#valki #loki #valkyrie #loki fanfiction #valkyrie fanfiction #lrbb2021

37 notes · View notes

the-ice-sculpture · 3 years

Photo

Title: The Sweet Allure of the Setting Sun Author: @the-ice-sculpture Artist: @rottentiger-art Rating: T Major Archive Warnings: no warnings apply Relationships: Loki/Valkyrie Word Count: 8,835 words Summary: While onboard the pirate vessel The Statesman, Valkyrie is Loki's sword training partner. They engage in a drinking game that turns into two people trying to discover each other's secrets while simultaneously trying (and often failing) to protect their own. Links: Fic on A03. Art on Instragram. Art on Tumblr. Beta: @aurorawest Event: @lokirarepairbigbang

#loki #loki rarepair big bang #valkyrie #loki/valkyrie #valki #loki fanfiction #art #collab #my writing thing

8 notes · View notes

marvelfandomscramble · 4 years

Link

The Marvel Spooky Scramble is here!

What is the Spooky Scramble?

Each participant contributes TWO of their favorite Marvel characters and ONE sPoOkY prompt into a virtual ‘hat’. Everyone’s contributions will then be scrambled up and distributed based on a random roll! Sounds fun, right?

Click the link above to sign up for this season’s craziest fandom event! Artists and Authors of all stripes are welcome to join in the fun!

After signing up, make sure you share this post (with your ship tags) and follow the Marvel Fandom Scramble to get the latest event updates!

As always, the ask box is open, but you can also contact us at [email protected] with questions/concerns.

More to come shortly!

Your mods (Mags and Manda)

@marvel-events-central

#marvel #marvel fanart #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fandom #winterprincess #starker #winterwitch #winterhawk #thorki #valki #brutasha #science bros #science husbands #stucky #winteriron #winterironshield #romanogers #clintasha

63 notes · View notes

taaroko · 4 years

Photo

Just Loki and Brun being cute. This is from a recent chapter of “If I Could Start Again,” in which they and Thor are on the way to the New York Sanctum and Loki’s cast illusions to make their Asgardian stuff look like Earth clothing. She’s wearing a rebec strapped across her back (kind of a Viking violin). Thor is about five paces ahead of them, trying not to let them notice how psyched he is.

Had fun playing with paintbrush textures on this one, but I’m still not remotely confident in my coloring skills.

#I drew a thing #if i could start again #valki #valki fanart #loki #valkyrie #thor #marvel #fanfiction

35 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 2 years

Note

autistic!reader x valkyrae hcs? maybe helping with sensory stuff? if that's okay :]

Sure thing dear! Enjoy 💕

PS: I researched the topic (have done so for previous requests as well) but still, if anything I've written is inaccurate, misinformative, hurtful/offensive in any way, shape or form, please let me know and please keep in mind that it's not made to sound so purposefully. I'd never want to offend anyone or hurt anybody's feelings or share misinformation. ~ Vy

Valkyrae x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of sensory triggers and responses to them

Genre: FLUFF, Comfort Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

You hadn't always been open about your sensory struggles in day-to-day life, keeping them more to yourself for no reason other than the fact you saw no need for sharing them

You believe you have them under control the majority of the time and knowing that if something did come up or if you were faced with something that could trigger you, you'd be able to calm yourself down or shield yourself

You'd gotten so used to doing things for yourself by yourself that it was completely out of the ordinary to find that your girlfriend had been paying attention to you so closely as to catch onto your triggers without you even having to mention them

Rae would see the way you flinched when she'd turn the light on suddenly or when you'd come into her recording room where the the lights were always bright and if they were at the odd chance off, then the screen would shine as brightly as the sun

She noticed how your hands would come up to cup your ears when a car alarm would go off outside or if someone honked their horn

She took note of the way you'd accept certain touches by melting into them and others by initially tensing up

So then you started picking up on the things she'd done to accommodate you and avoid triggering you in any way while in her apartment

For starters, she'd made a change to the lighting in the main rooms you'd reside in, swapping out the regular light switches for potentiometer ones that allow for the brightness to be adjusted to whatever degree and build to it gradually so it wouldn't startle you

She got you ear muffs for whenever the windows were open or when you'd venture out onto the balcony for some fresh air

Also, if she's playing without headphones, she'd make sure the sound is not too loud, regardless of whether you're in the room or not

She's started using lightly scented air freshener instead of more intense smells and wears less perfume when you're around - unless it's the kind you do like in which case she goes all out on it

Rae's a very big hugger, that goes without question, but she'd always let you initiate anything that isn't a foreseen hug

She's noticed you like top-of-the-head and forehead kisses as well as hand holding so she sticks to those and is certain to cuddle up with you whenever you'd want her to

She's a hugger and you're a cuddler, a match made in heaven if you ask me

79 notes · View notes

lazy-cat-corner · 3 years

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Thor (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Loki (Marvel) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel), En Dwi Gast | Grandmaster Additional Tags: Christmas Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Aphrodisiacs, Christmas Party, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Oral Sex, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon Divergence - Thor: Ragnarok (2017), more sakaar shenanigans, the grandmaster threw a party and of course things get out of hand, small hints at frostmaster, grandmaster using terms of endearment that make you want to gag 

Summary:

At a holiday party, The Grandmaster spikes Loki’s drink with a little aphrodisiac. Unfortunately, Loki is a bit tied up to do anything about it.

Preview:

“My job at this party is to, and I quote, look pretty and enjoy this little concoction I brewed up for you.” “Shit,” Valkyrie gave a low whistle and shook her head. “What?” “He’s not gonna make this easy for you.” When Valkyrie took another sip out of her drink, she lowered the glass to see Loki’s eyebrows were furrowed. “That drink should kick in any minute now and by then, you’ll have no choice but to want to join in on the fun.” … “Yeah, Grandmaster doesn’t always use his slow release potions, but when he does, he makes sure they have a strong kick.” 🎄🎄🎄🎄 Happy Holidays Valki shippers! I come with a present! Hope you all enjoy this little smutty one shot. Look! I was so excited to post it, I made a cute little edit to go with it.

#valki #valki fanfiction #loki #valkyrie #brunnhilde #pwp #loki fanfiction #plot? what plot?#holiday fanfiction #happy holidays #marvel #mcu #avengers

27 notes · View notes

iamanartichoke · 6 years

Note

... Valkyrie helps Loki through a ptsd flashback or nightmare.

This is longer than I meant it to be and also I didn’t revise so I apologize very much but anyway let me bless you with Valki feels in response to this awesome prompt.

Word count: 1188.

Valkyrie jolts awake without knowing why. There is a heavy weight painfully pinning one of her arms in place. She becomes aware of soft, strangled whimpers and knows they are not her own. The sound brings her fully into awareness and she rolls over in bed. Loki is having another nightmare.

His eyes move behind the lids rapidly, his breathing erratic, punctuated by the hushed cries he makes. He is clutching her arm so hard that it hurts, though she knows he is not aware that he is doing so. Valkyrie carefully twists her arm from his fingers, propping herself up and nudging his shoulder. “Loki,” she whispers - then, louder. “Loki, wake up.”

She shakes his shoulder a bit harder. Loki’s eyes fly open as he lets out a scream, the sound hoarse and full of agony; it is a sound that will never not pierce Valkyrie’s heart, no matter how many times she hears it. Still, she only smooths some of his hair away from his face. “Loki, you’re all right,” she murmurs, “it’s just me.”

He is not quite awake yet - it always takes a few seconds for him to realize where he is. At her words, he recoils; he jerks away from her touch while at the same time thrusting a dagger to her throat, lightning-fast. She is used to this. She can’t help but think how impressive his reflexes and ability to conjure weapons without a second thought, even half asleep, would be if it were not a reaction against what he perceives as a very real threat. There’s nothing impressive about how deep his fear runs, how much anguish these dreams cause him.

Valkyrie wraps a hand around his, gently but firmly pushing the dagger away. “You’re safe, Loki. It’s me,” she repeats, and only then do Loki’s eyes focus on her. He realizes and immediately drops the dagger; it clatters softly to the floor as Loki pulls himself up, breathing hard.

“Val,” he murmurs. He never calls her Val unless he is disoriented. “I didn’t - I’m sorry, was I - did I hurt you?”

Valkyrie shakes her head. His skin is clammy, cold; she reaches for his brow, again smoothing his hair back. “No. Everything is fine.” Her hand lingers after she tucks some of his hair behind his ear. She traces the outline of his jaw with her thumb, watching as the last bit of confusion fades from his face. His expression collapses and he closes his eyes tightly, dragging in a deep breath.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says.

“I know.” She moves her hand to his shoulder; his muscles are tight beneath her fingers, tension radiating from him in waves. “We can talk about it, if you want.”

Immediately, Loki shakes his head. When he opens his eyes again, they are bright. Loki’s instincts to keep his pain closely guarded to his heart rival his quick instincts in drawing a blade; each is an ingrained reaction to him, as second-nature as breathing. Valkyrie has learned this, but she’s also learned that if she does not push, he is more pliant. She keeps rubbing his shoulder, her fingers working comforting circles into the muscles she can already feel relaxing beneath her touch. Loki rubs his eyes, takes a few more breaths, and then finally says, “There were insects. They held me down, put them inside me - I could feel them under my skin, crawling and multiplying and digging. It … it hurt, so much, and they just - I was -” he breaks off with a shudder, pressing his lips together. He absently scratches at his arms, as if he can still feel the insects there.

Valkyrie suppresses a shiver of her own. Loki has never really told her who they were, though she knows that when he’d been held captive by Thanos, he’d been tortured and tormented by beings who called themselves his children. Mostly, she assumes it was them; sometimes, however, Loki mentions the Chitauri and indicated they had some hand in it as well. The pieces are all very fragmented, to her, but she does not need to know the entire story to know how real Loki’s fear still is, how real his experiences had been.

She lets go of his shoulder and covers his hands with hers to stop him from scratching his arms. Loki’s various, anxiety-fueled tics can cause him to inadvertently harm himself if he is not careful. “Hey. It’s over now,” she reminds him. She leans in and presses her forehead to his. “You’re safe now, okay? No one is ever going to do that to you again. I won’t let them.”

Loki seems to truly focus on her for the first time. His brilliant green eyes flash as if he is annoyed, but they soften again a moment later. Loki’s pride would always resist against her protective tendencies, but he’s gotten better about it. “I know you think that,” he says, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“I know that,” she corrects, gently. “They’d have to kill me to get to you.”

“They would, without a second thought,” Loki replies, and suddenly his mouth is on hers. Valkyrie lets herself sink, briefly, into it, but she pulls back again before she can lose herself. “If that happened,” Loki goes on, softly, against her lips, “I might as well be dead, too.”

“You are either very romantic or very foolish,” she responds. Loki feels things so deeply. It had surprised her to learn this, to realize just how much he hid beneath his aloof exterior. He keeps everything so tightly suppressed inside of him, not because he does not feel things but because, she has come to find, he fears that if he did not, he will come undone under the weight of it.

“Perhaps both,” he suggests, and just a hint of humor flickers into his eyes.

“Perhaps.” Valkyrie places both of her hands on either side of his face. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing is going to happen to either of us, Loki, all right? Not tonight, not tomorrow, not months from now. It’s just us here, and we’re safe.”

Loki nods. Valkyrie can tell that he does not believe her, but he wants to, and that is progress, in its own way. She sighs and closes the very small space between their lips, listening to the quick inhale of his breath. She parts his lips and slides her tongue into his mouth, presses into him until she feels his heartbeat quicken and his arms come around her, pulling her even closer.

“If you’re trying to distract me,” he murmurs when he breaks from her, “it’s working.”

“That so?” Valkyrie dips her head to his neck, drops lingering kisses against his skin.

His fingers, resting against her hip, tighten. “Mhm.”

She can feel the hurried pace of his pulse beneath her mouth and she hides a smile in the dips of his collarbone. “Then I shall continue to distract you,” she says, and eases him back down onto the bed.

And Loki does not protest.

Send me a prompt!

#charlotte writes #valki #loki pokey artichokey #valkyrie #fic #fic meme #fanfiction #valki fic #loki fic #a nonny mouse #tumblr prompts

46 notes · View notes

unmundoagradable · 6 years

Text

Meeting

Fandom/s: MCU, Avengers, Thor.

Title: Meeting

Genre/s: Yeah I don’t know. The idea was Romance but no.

Warning/s: None.

Characters: Valkyrie, Loki.

Pairing/s: Valki.

A/N: This was supposed to be the Smut part of Valki Week but there is no smut at all so I will work on another part of it. I am a failure. But I hope to grant you a break from the angst.

*****

The first thing she finds out about him is that he’s a little shit. It doesn’t take long. At all.

He quite literally falls from the sky, face first in the heap of trash that is Sakaar, and right (or nearly so) at her feet. And the first thing he does is smirk at her, even as she points a rifle at him. She stuns him before he can even think of getting up, introduce himself, or say anything at all, and hauls him around like a rag doll until she reaches her ship.

And then she ties him (not for the first time; he’s a kinky little shit).

She drags him inside the Royal Palace and into the elevator, already tasting the Sakaarian liquor his sale is gonna buy her, when he starts to wake up. “Hello,” he greets groggily, looking around to get his bearings, and stopping just a moment to look out of the elevator and down into the city, and she doesn’t bother to reply. It actually looks like he’s used to waking up in strange and unexpected places (she knows the feeling).

He struggles to stand up through his bound hands and torso (eh, she likes to be thorough) and sways slightly as the doors to the elevator open. She doesn’t even glance at him as she grabs his arm and pulls him out, forcing him to walk towards the Grandasshole’s Throne/Orgy/Disco/Party/Council/Whatever Room.

He plants his feet in the ground and she’s forced to turn around and face him, rolling her eyes. He’s making her lose precious time she could spend drinking her brain away.

“I’m Loki,” he says, and his eyes burn into her. Under his stare, she feels a weird tingling that she attributes to alcohol withdrawal.

She smiles warmly. “Ah, nice! Too bad I don’t give a shit,” she replies sweetly. “You’re just, literally, money in my eyes. No names needed. Actually, if I know my buyers well, the asshole’s gonna pay quite a bit of units for,” she looks at him, up and down, never one for shying away from being appreciative, “this.”

He doesn’t look surprised; he doesn’t even blink. He just looks mildly amused and shrugs. “Well, then, at least I do have some manners. I expect my captor has a name?”

She rolls her eyes again. Oh, he’s going to be an absolute pain in the ass about this. She hates this kind of thing. A girl just needs some units to buy alcohol and poison her liver to death, and yet she has to actually interact with people. So annoying.

“Scrapper 142,” she says curtly. And that’s the end of it, she turns around again and pulls on his arm to make him walk, and meets no resistance this time.

They walk in silence in the absurdly long corridor and she can feel his eyes on her. She hates him already and really really wishes he wasn’t the Grandmaster’s type so she could skewer his worthless ass and send him to hell. She really has no time for this.

As they reach the door to the Whatever Room, instead of opening it she turns towards him. “He likes spirit and wit, but not too much or he’ll fry you. If you have any special talent, good; it’ll buy you additional points. If you have any weird talent or quality or... body part, whatever, that’s even better. He’s a kinky shit. He’s gonna ask you what you are, a fighter or food. This planet may be full of trash and savages but not everyone likes to eat people, so when he says “food” he means someone to entertain him in whatever way possible, and to get rid of whenever he gets bored. Fighter means you’ll end up fighting his champion and you’ll be dead in seconds, and seeing as you look like a gust of wind could blow you over I suggest you choose to be food.”

He looks intently at her as she speaks. When she finishes, he smirks again, which seems to be is only expression. “Thank you for he advice, but you needn’t worry, I know how to ingratiate myself to... peculiar people. But I do appreciate the concern, Scrappy,” and at that, he actually grins wolfishly, showing no sense of self preservation whatsoever.

She is sure her face turns the same red as the floors as she feels her neck flush in pure, unadulterated rage. She whips out her knife and pushes him against a wall, banging his head against the hard surface with a satisfying thump, holding the blade at his throat.

“First, I am not concerned about you, only about how much you’ll earn me. The more he likes you, the more units I’ll get. But keep taking and it won’t matter how much money you’re worth, I won’t hesitate to bring him your headless body just to shut your mouth, and then I can guarantee you that “food” will just mean food. Two, do not ever call me Scrappy again, Lackey,” she growls and emphasizes the name by pushing the blade even deeper against his skin, drawing a drop of blood.

“...Not that you’ll have the chance,” she adds, withdrawing and sheathing her dagger, then grabbing his arm and opening the door, throwing the annoying little shit inside.

#mcu #marvel #thor #thor 3 #thor ragnarok #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #avengers #avengers fanfiction #thor fanfiction #valki #valki week #loki #valkyrie #valki fanfic #text #romance #?#haha no.

20 notes · View notes