#c; fandral | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lokisgoodgirl · 2 months

Text

The Rite: Consequence (VI)

A link to The Rite Masterlist is here A link to my regular Masterlist is here Summary: (6) It's the day of The Rite 🙈And whether Loki succeeds or fails in capturing your pleasure (and your heart) - there will be consequences. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Mild angst. Asgardians behaving badly. Smut. I am begging, pleading for your trust. (w/c 5.6k)

Loki blocked the fall of the blade with a hanging guard, catching his brother’s wild stare through the angle of his arm.

Dust scraped across his eyes from the training ring, but he blinked it away. They both glistened with mid-afternoon sweat - muscles straining; all hard veins and gritted teeth.

Loki licked his lips, tasting salt, and his arm began to quiver beneath the press of his brother’s blade – but he wouldn’t relent. He never did.

The Rite was only hours away.

It began at sundown. He wasn’t allowed to see you, and beating his brother into the dirt was as good a distraction as any. Better than the ones I’m used to.

And besides, after the two of you had talked until sunrise – about everything and anything that avoided the question of love – there was nothing more to be done.

If Fandral had told you about the second part of The Rite, he was glad you hadn’t raised it. He didn’t think he could bear knowing its outcome in advance. Better the short, sharp shock of shame than its clammy shadow. Better to whisper in your ear and devour your lips and feel your hand searching the angles of him until he was sick with painful desire.

“Yield,” Loki grit. A thick strand of hair had come loose, trailing over his vision. The furrow of Thor’s frown grew deeper.

“Why would I? I have you on the run, little brother.” A soft grunt broke in Loki’s throat. He flexed his shoulder and parried Thor’s sword to the side with force, kicking the blonde’s left foot from under him in the same movement. Thor slammed down into the sand; sprawling and sword clattered against the stone beneath.

“You don’t fight fair, Loki” “Maybe you should fight better.” Thor scrambled to his feet, sand sticking in clumps to the sweat gathered on his chest. “I am the greatest warrior this realm has ever known because I fight with honour.” Loki rolled his eyes. “Honour,” he spat. “At least you shan’t have your ill-gotten reputation in the histories as its greatest lover for much longer.” Thor hacked a wad of dust-gritted saliva and spat it to his feet. He looked up with a twisted smile. “I don’t know about that, Loki. Of the two of us you’ve always been seen as the bigger whore. A talented one for certain, but a whore all the same. And soon enough, your Rite partner will join the throng; be forgotten like the rest.” Before he knew it, Loki’s dagger was at Thor’s throat.

His vision flashed white, and behind him came the jangle of armoured guards, circling them with their spears readied. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Thor’s hands rise to steady them.

“Brother…” Thor said slowly, “I know you’re nervous, but killing me really would remove any chance you have at the succession—”

“—I won’t take insult from those who wax lyrical about honour and leave their loin’s fruit to the vultures.” Thor frowned. “What are you talking about?” He tried to look down at the blade glinting by his thorax and only succeeded in nicking his skin. “Ow.” Loki released a withering sigh, flipping the dagger away and kicking Thor’s foot from beneath him. The other one, this time. His brother crumpled like a wet towel. He turned, seeing several of the guards’ facial expressions flinch between the gaps in their helmets.

“Disperse,” he muttered, striding past them and wondering mildly how long it would be until Odin found out. He needed to bathe. He needed to be alone. I need to be with her. But he couldn’t have that; so alone, it would be.

“Don’t worry brother,” he said dryly as he scraped sweat-soaked hair off his face. “I’m sure none of father’s spies will impart that you were bested by a whore.” Thor’s blustering protestations made a smirk curl the corner of his mouth. He must remember to tell you about this, when all was said and done: when the succession was set in stone, when the home for abandoned children was secured, when he knew that you loved him. And as he exited the training ring, Loki realised with horrifying clarity that one of those possibilities hung around his neck like a millstone: heavier than the others – threatening to collapse him to his knees.

If she loves me, he re-worded in his mind, beginning to walk a little quicker to the safety of solitude.

You’d been woken in late morning and bustled with minimal ceremony to the private baths on the upper floors of the palace.

Once there, your day-gown had been stripped by a flurry of exquisitely beautiful maids; each dressed in blue fabric as thin as gauze, hair like pure, precious metals. How you hated them.

You hadn’t realised you wouldn’t see Loki until The Rite itself until he’d told you last night before you parted ways. You’d kissed him so roughly against the wall, fingers digging into his scalp, that you’d almost passed out from lack of oxygen.

And now…here, with the most impossibly beautiful nymphs in all of Asgard – it felt like there was no time. You need to be near him. Isn’t that how love works? But then, you wouldn’t know. You suddenly wondered if absence before the ceremony was really part of the tradition, or if Odin and the rest of them were trying to keep you apart. Hoping he’ll fail. —Stop being so paranoid.

Steam rose from the hot spring, undulating like flame as one of the nymphs massaged your shoulders. I wonder what Loki’s doing. Does he miss me? Is he nervous…? You lifted one calf out of the water where you’d perched at the edge of the baths, the scent of orange oil thick in your nostrils. Suddenly the fingers stopped working, and she leant down. “Loki’s very good, you know. Everyone knows it’s his favourite thing to do to a woman, or a man. You’re so lucky.” She giggled, and your stomach tightened with a wave of inexplicable anger. “I’m jealous. They say he does this thing with his tongue that—" “—Oh hush, Mavor.” You winced as Frigga’s chide sparked like a lit match. She settled, dangling her feet in the pool beside yours. “Leave the poor girl alone, I’m sure the past few days have been much to contend with.”

You turned fractionally, almost blinded by the golden assault of her sunlit hair. She’s staring at you, faint crows-feet scrunched from the vaguely discomforting smile on her lips. “What happened last night with Fandral was improper. What must you think of us?” “I don’t think it of you,” you lied, memories of the sick little girl cinching tight around your mind; the fact that Fandral and all the other court-wankers had no clue that Loki was the one clearing up their mess, doing any real good. But it was a secret, and a secret it would remain.

And then you remembered what Lagertha said when the nurse had thanked the gods. ‘Not the gods,’ she’d said, beaming with pride as Loki blushed. ‘This one’s the only one worth having.’

Frigga’s close-lipped smile grew. “We can’t blame Fandral for being in love with Loki, even if his methods were…”

Your eyebrow rose. “Petty? Spiteful? Unforgiveable?”

Frigga laughed: a practiced, twinkling chirp. “When you live as long as we do, dear…nothing is truly unforgivable.”

You frowned, vision blurring as you stifled an eyeroll and Freya continued. “Perhaps you understand how he feels…now that you’ve gotten to know my second son a little better.” “You want to know if I love him, is that it? Well, I don't know.”

Shame swelled under your thin bathing gown, and Frigga inhaled quietly. “I of all people in this palace understand that words matter less than what we feel in here-” she said, pressing a fan of fingers to her chest. “You may think our customs strange, but they were born from centuries of upheaval and selfishness of our rulers. Markers needed to be set. It’s important that the general populace knows nothing of the second requirement of The Rite. It’s sacred.” You let out a petulant sigh. Don’t sass the queen, you willed, staring ahead at the water spilling over the edge of the balcony to a waterfall below.

Frigga cleared her throat. “The Rite ensures that those in line for succession can put another before themselves, represented through giving pleasure – and can capture their heart, their love—” “—Yes…I know that now,” you spat, eyes blazing towards her. “No thanks to any of you. Fandral had to tell me, of all people. Couldn’t resist rubbing it in my face that I’d fail Loki.”

Frigga’s face fell. But now you’d started, you couldn’t stop.

“And besides…Odin, Thor…they cheated the system, didn’t they? You and Odin were engaged! Sif was pretty much raised on a diet of Thor-infatuation.” You shook your head, heat flushing up your neck. “I didn’t say it was perfect,” Frigga said. “But the succession cannot be risked. And despite your current ingratiation, you are an outsider; you cannot understand these things.” “Oh,” you said, choosing to ignore her honey-drenched barb. “It can’t be risked, I see…unless it’s Loki, the one no one cares about?”

Despite her mask of diplomacy, irritation rippled on Frigga’s face.

“He had many options, and every opportunity,” she said through perfectly straight, gritted, teeth. “And he squandered every one of them. But something’s changed these past centuries in him. Something in these past weeks, too. A mystery, certainly.”

She stood, and the wet length of her glittering gown slopped across the floor. “Although I’m pleased to see you feel so strongly in his defence – it bodes well for his performance. Perhaps he’ll succeed after all.”

Your snorted. “And if I fail him, Fandral can step in: problem solved.” Frigga sighed, waving away an approaching nymph who skittered gratefully backwards.

“That’s not how it works,” Frigga said with a cloying sweetness, "- Loki would fail you: he would have failed to bring you pleasure, and capture your heart in a meaningful way. He only has one chance at fulfilling The Rite, at joining the succession. I did urge him to wait another 500 years but..."

She gave a delicate shrug. "And besides, in his haste to tarnish you…Fandral excluded himself from ever being eligible. The arousal of a god touched his skin. You should have seen his face when he realised he’d neglected to don the gloves in his pocket: pompous little oaf.”

A whirl of butterflies erupted in your gut. “So, you see, my dear…” Frigga tipped your chin up to meet her eyes. “You are my son’s only chance…”

You looked up at her: the glint in her beautiful irises – and for the first time you saw something more than the performance she presented to the court. Mischief. “My son’s…and those sweet little children.” A smile curled at her wine-stained lips. “And I hope you are prepared for the consequences of that.”

The silent, unbroken stare shattered as the doors burst open and Lagertha hobbled inside with an entourage of three. They held something in their arms like a dead snake, spread between them, covered in thick cotton and secured with the Asgardian royal seal in five places along its length.

Lagertha clapped her hands twice and you couldn’t help but smile at the irreverence on her face as she cast an imperious glance around the room. “There she is,” she said, waving you towards her. “Come, come – we haven’t got all day. Sun will be setting soon.”

You jumped up and scooted over, and immediately her surprisingly iron grip fastened to your bicep. “Loki sends his well wishes,” she hissed abruptly, “hopes his mother ain’t been too much of a cow.”

You pressed your lips together. “He’s alright? He’s not…” “Nervous? Course he is, dear. Near-on shitting himself. Not that he’d say that out loud, but I’ve known him a long time…the real him, like you do. Bless his silken hose. But now…we need to focus on you.”

Minutes passed in a blur as one of Lagertha��s deputy Weaving Crone who wasn’t quite so nobbled rolled out a small podium. You mounted it, following instructions to raise your arms and soon the dress was pulled over your head and in a heap on the floor.

A mirror was wheeled from somewhere, and behind your naked body you tried not to look at Frigga perched on a chaise, supping from a goblet.

Over your shoulder, the assistant crones were unpacking the snake-like thing. It must’ve been twenty feet long, and as it unfurled, your breath hitched. They held up the part which went over your arms, pacing forward reverently. It was as sheer as cobweb, tiny golden flecks weaved into the impossibly fine threads.

It slid up your skin like liquid moonlight. The fabric kissed your flesh like the graze of a lover, and beside you, Lagertha smiled.

You eyed your reflection warily. “How many people will see me in this?” “Just focus on the prince, dear.” “How many, Lagertha?” Her eyes flickered up to yours before taking a renewed interest in straightening the sash. “No more than twenty.” “Twenty?” you hissed. “I thought…I don’t know what I thought. Norns. Who are they?” “Odin, Frigga, Thor…some of the high gods; selected nobles to witness. It’s an honour, remember that. For them, as well as you.” You could swear the outline of your heartbeat was visible. “Oh my god…will they see everything?” “Not everything, child,” Lagertha whispered, untying the sash loop and re-assembling it; buying time. The robes sides covered your breasts but left a gap of bare skin in the centre, gathering at the naval before the flowing, split skirt began.

“It’s all very hush hush beforehand, so the participants can’t…skew things.” “Skew things?” You saw Lagertha’s lips roll together as she tried to dampen a laugh. Her eyes darted to Frigga and quickly back to you.

“Touch ‘emselves,” she said with a straight face.

“Focus on Loki, dear.” Her voice was as calming as poppy-seed tea. “I know what I see when I see it.” She ran a nobbled hand down the curve of your waist, smoothing the fabric.

You swallowed, looking at yourself in the mirror. “How will they know if I…if I love him? How will they know if I don't know?” Lagertha spun out the silence, fussing with the fabric at your breasts. “Focus on Loki, dear,” was all she said.

And soon, you were on the move again.

After his father’s ‘motivational’ speech, Loki felt no better. Although admittedly, he did feel slightly lighter when he’d left. Lagertha’s arrival had been the only bright spot in the darkness of his mood. She’d clothed in him in the same style of ceremonial garments expected from all participants in The Rite – far less grand than yours would be, but Loki’s held more elaborate stitching than his brother’s had done centuries before: tiny runes and charms woven into the hem with wishes that whispered when he moved. “Tell her…” he’d started, realising that he didn’t know what to say. He grumbled out some inane quip about his mother. Lagertha raised an eyebrow. “I know how you feel about her, silly boy,” she said under her breath, eyeing Thor snarfing down a third plate of cold meats like he’d been raised on the streets and not in a palace. "You can't fool old Lagertha."

Loki’s chest tightened: fighting the urge to deny it, fighting the urge to let his persona of bravado take hold. “I can’t love. Everyone’s always told me I’m not…made for it.” Lagertha’s laugh caught in her throat. She made a face. “Who? Him?” She yanked her head towards Thor leering covetously at a wheel of cheese. “Please,” she added under her breath. “And if she doesn’t love me?” Loki asked, voice crackling under the weight of the words.

Lagertha rolled her eyes. “It was a big ask in such a short time – any fool could see that, even your brother. But if you can…then maybe she can too.”

She shrugged, and patted his bare pecs twice. “I saw the way she looked at you when you came to get measured, and she couldn’t look away when you were playing with little Grisyna.”

Her eyebrow rose again. “Besides…if what she feels isn’t strong enough to fulfil The Rite…doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Doesn’t mean it isn’t worth exploring, tending.” “But the children," Loki hissed, ensuring he was out of Thor's earshot. "If I’m not in the succession, then if father finds out, he’ll—” Lagertha flapped a hand. “— We’ll figure out a way. We always have. Odin isn’t going to sweep in and decimate them – Frigga wouldn’t allow it…they’ll be shifted out somewhere, all nice and quiet so no one finds out what a bunch of unworthy vagabonds his court is.”

She reached up his neck and instinctually he stooped so her hands could cup his jaw.

“You are worthy of love, Loki Odinson. Giving and receiving,” she said quietly, searching his eyes. “No matter what some daft Rite says.”

“Brother you simply must try these prunes.”

Thor belched, pressing a fist to his mouth too late. Loki and Lagertha looked at him with matching expressions of disgust, and her hands fell from his jaw. Thor chuckled.

“Seems like your partner has competition for her place tonight,” Thor said, throwing a prune up and trying to catch it with his mouth. It hit off his eye and bounced to the floor. “I’ve been laying with gods since Odin was a sparkle in your grandfather’s eye, boy…I wouldn’t possibly qualify,” she said, gathering her things. She looked at Loki a final time, sharing a conspiratorial nod as Thor flushed pink. “Boy?!” Thor balked, as she shifted from the room with a quiet, purposeful grace. “Boy!?” he said again, marching to Loki. “That old witch is too familiar. I should have her removed from royal favour.” “You’ll do no such thing, brother,” Loki drawled, picking up a goblet of wine before setting it down again, untouched. “Who will make the garments that enchant your groin to look larger?” Thor’s cheeks began to turn violet. “That was supposed to be in confidence.” “Oh, dear.” Loki spun to his reflection, tilting his head. “Well, you’re lucky I’m very good at keeping secrets - if I choose to.”

Thor's lips pursed tight. Clearly, today would not be the one he’d break the habit of a lifetime and concoct a witty response. Loki’s gaze shifted back to himself.

The ceremonial Rite garment clung to every line of muscle like shimmering skin. It rippled at the merest breath; whether it was silver, or gold, or white depended entirely on the angle of the light. Bell sleeves draped from his wrists, hanging down to his mid-thighs and melting against his skin like dregs of foam into sand.

The fabric was split down his torso; cock on full display; sheer fabric leaving no inch of the skin beneath to the imagination. The hem of the robe brushed the floor as his bare feet shuffled, inspecting himself. He looked resplendent.

Loki sighed. “Fix my hair, will you? Or try, at least.”

A box rattled as Thor combed through a variety of pins. Loki rolled his eyes. “The gold one, with the emblem.” “Which emblem?” Thor asked, bored. “My emblem, you cretin.”

Thor worked in silence, and Loki was glad of it. His brother managed to gather the hair in a serviceable knot at the top of his head: fastened with the golden snake pin at its base. Loki’s cheekbones slashed deep shadows into his face, highlighting faint blue shadows under his eyes. The sun had almost set, and soon enough, there was a knock at the door. Thor squeezed his shoulder. “I wish you fortune, brother. May her heart be open.”

Loki waited for the quip about her legs being open too, but it didn’t come. And unlike the cowing pleasantries at last night’s feast, he felt a shiver of gratitude wrench up his spine at the sentiment.

“Thank you, brother,” he whispered, meeting his own eyes in the mirror. “I need it.”

The stone seemed to pulse beneath your feet.

You walked in procession: Frigga at the front, the Asgardian nymphs flanking you each holding a clutch of your train as the golden door grew closer. Goosebumps needled your arms beneath the silk-chiffon. ‘Just focus on the prince’, Lagertha had said. ‘Just focus on him’. Finally, the procession stopped. Frigga beat a fist on the door three times, and inside there was the muffled sound of trumpets.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Heraldry? Be serious.

The doors swung open. The hall was narrow, with padded benches lining the walls like one of those Midgard chapels and torches throwing throbbing amber hues on the floor. It was so polished that the gemstone stars set deep into the dark ceiling reflected on its surface, and your feet wobbled as the world slewed around you. “It’s alright,” the nymph to your side whispered, staring ahead. “Just keep walking.” You tried not to look at the shaded figures who populated the benches, but the curiosity was too much. Fandral sat with a sullen expression, glowering at your progress, the centre of his face marred with a purple bruise which spread to his eyes. You smirked. Frigga stopped, and stepped to the side.

And then, you inhaled sharply. Loki stood with his hands clasped behind his back: posture impeccable, body tight with braced muscles and his raven hair swept up in a devastating knot.

He wore a robe made of the same material as yours. In torchlight, it looked like pure gold – rippling with opacity in time with the flames. But still, his alabaster skin was visible beneath it. The god’s bare form was as flawless as you remembered from the night in the baths – it felt like a lifetime ago.

And yes, his cock really is that big, that perfect. You thought you might have imagined it. His face was set in ceremonial stiffness, but those eyes sparkled. He isn’t embarrassed. You decided – fuck it – you weren’t going to be embarrassed either. You opened your mouth to speak but, regrettably, Odin got in first. “Gods, nobles…you are welcome to the attempt of my second son – Loki of Asgard – at fulfilling The Rite of Successional Pleasure, and taking his place as one of the realm’s true-royal sons.”

Loki sidestepped as you found yourself guided by the nymphs holding your train, nudging you towards a raised platform at the end of the hall. A firm looking cushion sat on top of it: the deepest navy blue, scattered with silver thread.

You climbed each of the four steps, turning to the crowd of shadowed faces occupying the pews and trying to ignore the graze of your hardened nipped against the fabric. For Loki, you reminded yourself.

Looking up, you could make out a golden railing suspended from the ceiling, thin bunches of material hanging from it in thin sections. Loki mounted the steps with easy grace, cock swinging, drawing your hand to his lips when he reached the top.

“You are well?” he murmured against the skin, looking up through his lashes. Your stomach roiled with the need to kiss him, but all you could muster was a nod. A silent understanding passed between you of how fucked-up this was. “It will be over soon,” he said, brows peaking. Your lips rolled together, but as words shaped your lips—

“Loki Odinson: God of Mischief and Lies, Son of Asgard.”

Odin’s voice rang around the cloisters like a war-cry. “I command you to prove yourself worthy of the people you seek to rule by bestowing unrequited pleasure on this woman. By doing so, you prove that you can put those you rule above yourself; that if you can cultivate their love, you may one day hold the crown.”

Cultivate their love. The phrase made a shiver tighten your shoulders.

A woman even older than Lagertha shuffled up the steps, and beside you, Loki stiffened. Red markings smeared down her face, paste crusting into deep wrinkles. She gathered your hands. Her eyes closed, face tipped to the feeling. The very air seemed to sharpen. “She is untouched by a god: she has known no seed, she is eligible for the ceremonial Rite,” the woman announced. Beside you, Loki’s muscles relaxed. A nymph tapped your shoulder and you drew your eyes from Loki’s. “My lady- we need to—” “—I can do it,” Loki cut in. He observed her visible panic with clear irritation. “Nowhere does it specify this in the ceremonial texts, I assure you.”

There was a hum from the crowd, but no objections. Loki ushered you to the bed. He leant down to your ear, and the warmth of his breath ignited fierce, obscene desire in your core. The crowd, forgotten. “Lie on the bed, so that your head rests near the top," he whispered, shivers running down your limbs. "Those two women will fan the train of your robe. It’s very important that you let them arrange it how it needs to be. You’ll be restrained, but don’t fear…it will not hurt. It’s only so—” “—I don’t touch myself,” you finished. Loki smirked. “Skew the results,” he replied, eyes glittering like the gems in the ceiling. His knuckles trailed down your bicep and for that moment, there was only you and Loki in the room. “Shall we?”

You did as he’d asked, settling on your back. True enough, the two nymphs spread the train of the robe until its huge length spilled down the steps and halfway up the narrow aisle. The rest of it pooled across the bed, pearling weave undulating in shadows. When they were done, your arms were spread and satin tied to your wrists; fastened somewhere down the sides.

And all the while, Loki stood where you’d left him – facing the crowd with what you imagined was a thousand-yard-stare.

One of the nymphs approached the long material draped from the ceiling. Loki brought a hand up, clicking his fingers. The material sprung to life, metal rings scraping on metal as it worked around the railing; surrounding the bed in a circle of thin, voile fabric.

You’d been prepared to repeat Lagertha’s mantra in your head at this point, but it turned out it wasn’t only easy to focus on Loki – it was impossible not to.

He drew a portion of the curtain to the side and slipped through: utterly beautiful in his regally-repressed lust. That lithe body shifted beneath the sheer robe as he knelt on the bed: one knee, then two. You squirmed, unable to help yourself. You were already wet, arousal sliding between your thighs.

“Kiss me?” you asked quietly.

His brow furrowed, eyes falling to his crotch. He was hard. It was the first time you’d seen him erect without any clothes on. Even in the baths, he’d been underwater. Saliva welled in your mouth, heart thumping. A bead of pre-cum had already swelled at the tip. “This is rather unorthodox,” he muttered. Whispers were audible from the world beyond the curtain. Loki swallowed. “But you look so…” He swallowed again, eyelids fluttering closed and hands falling to the mattress. “I’ll get seed on you. And we can’t have that. Not now.” “Not now,” you agreed as your legs parted.

Loki’s breath hitched as he drew the sliver of fabric covering your crotch to the side. The god lowered, lips fastening to your thigh as his hands scooped under your legs. You felt like you might catch fire.

He kissed up to the knee, lingering on each inch of skin like you might vanish. Your nerves were wild, and it wasn’t until the whine of his name had left your lips you even realised you'd done it. There was a ripple of amusement from the crowd, and one of Loki’s brows rose. “As you desire,” he murmured, before fastening softly to your clit.

A moan ripped from your throat.

The touch was almost nothing, but it was a lit match to sulphur. All the desire, the longing, the denial – it came rushing up your throat in that moan.

Loki’s tongue was silk. It smoothed over the folds of your sex, coating you in his wet enthusiasm. Every long, languid lap coupled with a groan of approval in his chest; the sharp angles of his jawline slotting perfectly between your spread legs.

“Loki,” you gasped, back arching while his fingers spread against your hips.

He suckled your clit, eyes opening with calculated precision to lock with your own. “Loki,” you chanted again, reaching to tangle a hand in his hair and failing. His mouth broke from your pussy. “Yes, little owl?” he hummed, chin glistening with your arousal, a playful dimple winking at the corner of his mouth. You huffed.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded as the god chuckled against you thigh, wet, lazy kisses bitten into the flesh. His eyes met yours as he kissed over your mound, lowering completely before dragging his nose through your cunt and covering your clit again.

“Gods, yes….f-fuck,” you gasped.

There were more titters of mirth behind the curtain. But you couldn’t hear them – you could only hear Loki’s desperate sighs of need as he worshipped you, only feel the coil winding in your belly as orgasm began to crest; only sense the press of his fingertips pulling your hips deeper into his open mouth.

Suddenly someone shouted: another, and then another. They were hushed by a voice suspiciously like Frigga’s.

You turned your face unwillingly to the side, craning up, straining against the binds. The end of the train was just visible were it ended down aisle. You squinted. Where before it was a kind of white, now it was… “Green?” Loki’s palm pressed against your chest, sliding to cup your breast with a squeeze as you lowered.

“Ignore it,” he breathed: wet, hot. And then, he pushed your knees back. Your eyes widened as he towered above you, fingers spread on your calves like a chariot-rider. A single curl had come loose from the top-knot. Loki lapped from the base of your slit to the tip.

His movements were fluid, and wild – yet perfectly controlled. You’d heard tales of how he swept through battlefields like a whirlwind; slicing enemies down like they were paper; harnessing madness with the absolute precision. And this was like that. Except his battle was your pleasure – and gods, he was winning.

You’d begun to pant, and nonsensical words shaped your tongue as his movements became slower, massaging your cunt with slow, methodical licks. “Loki…” you pleaded, chest heaving, lips parted. And then, you came.

It was like nothing you’d ever known. Everything else had been a pebble of pleasure scattered on a beach – this was the cliff. It slammed into you, spine arching as he shifted to your thrashes; holding your hips fast to his lips as you spilled into him.

Somewhere, people were clapping – but all you could feel was him, guiding your sizzling pussy from its high with gentle, careful licks.

The binds at your wrists loosened and the moment they did, you sat up – audience be damned – and collided with his mouth.

The kiss was deep, wild: fingers digging into the tight hair at the base of his skull, his lips teased open by the demands of your tongue. The taste of you was thick: sweet, hot, dark with your deepest needs. It tasted like love - like trust.

Loki’s moan as you shifted onto his lap and dragged your pussy up his cock: scorching your insides with an unquenchable drive to have him buried inside you. “It’s done,” a creaking voice announced. You squinted through the curtain, panting. The old woman from before with red crusted on her face was standing, facing the crowd. “Loki Odinson has completed the Rite of Successional Pleasure.” A roar erupted through the darkness. Loki shook you by the shoulders, his face smeared with your cum a picture of fierce delight.

I did it, those eyes said.

For a reason you couldn’t explain, your stomach dropped.

The curtain was torn aside and you toppled from Loki’s lap, pulling bundles of the robe’s length to cover your modesty. And then, you saw it. The train spilling down the steps and onto the aisle was almost completely green: a deep emerald, like it had been dipped in ink which soaked its material like the tide. As you watched, the stain grew closer, starting an ascent of the steps. “He has proven himself able to give pleasure to those who serve him,” the woman’s voice cut through the din. “He has proven himself able to earn their love, their allegiance.” Loki stood from the bed, his arms spread wide to the applause: robe open, cock still hard. You frowned, shuffling forwards and tugged the back of his robe. He glanced over his shoulder, expression faltering.

You loved him. He knew that now. Everyone did. So why did it feel like… A mob descended and suddenly Loki was absorbed into a mass of congratulatory back slaps and cheers. Thor stood at the side, clapping all-too-slowly. His eyes darted towards you, before falling to the ground.

‘A triumph,’ the voices in the crowd around Loki said as his smile widened. ‘Never seen anything like it…magnificent.’ They pulled him down the steps. 'One for the histories.'

“Loki." Your voice broke, and you shuffled forwards and stumbled over the tangle of your train. You thought you saw the flash of Loki’s profile; you thought you saw him trying to lurch back through the throng.

But fingers curled around your arms and pulled. The mossy perfume of the Asgardian nymphs stung your eyes and you wrenched against them, hearing a rip from below as someone tore the delicate robe with their feet.

More fingers fastened to your wrist and you yanked away before meeting a pair of piercing blue eyes. Sad eyes. “Let him go,” Frigga whispered firmly. “He has much to celebrate.” Everything else was white noise. Only the memory of Fandral’s smarmy voice loud in your head. ‘He’s trying to make you fall in love with him,’ he’d said. ‘And afterwards, he’ll discard you like the commoner you imagine yourself to be.’ You faltered at the scrunch of Frigga’s brow, strength leaving your limbs.

Her pitying gaze said more than platitudes ever could. Glancing at the door, shouts of jubilation faded in echoing wisps as the green spill completed its ascent up the enchanted fabric.

Loki’s colour: proof that he held your heart in the palm of his hand, proof that you were willing to give yourself to him body, and soul.

And Loki was gone.

A/N. Just trust me, okay? Please? 🙏❤️ Please please. Tags in comments x Next Chapter : Marked (Finale) The Rite Masterlist is here

#the rite🕯️#loki x reader #loki smut #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #loki x you #loki x female reader smut #loki x you smut #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki imagine #lokismut

558 notes · View notes

welikeimagines-andfandoms · 7 months

Text

Marvel Kink Alphabet

Which characters have these kinks

A- Anal

Loki, Thor, Tony

B- Bondage

Carol, Loki, Natasha, Pietro, Sif, Thor, Valkyrie, Zemo

C- Creampie

Adam Warlock, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Thor, Tony

D- Deepthroating

Fandral, Loki, M’Baku, Thor

E- Exhibitionism

Fandral, Loki, Pietro, Zemo

F- Fingering

Bucky, Loki, Natasha, Pietro, Steve Rogers, Valkyrie, Wanda

G- Gags

Loki, Tony, Zemo

H- Hair Pulling

Bucky, Eddie Brock, Fandral, Natasha, Sif, Thor, Wanda, Yelena

I- Intimacy

Adam Warlock, Bucky, Eddie Brock, M’Baku, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Thor, Wanda, Yelena, Zemo

J- Jizz

Fandral, M’Baku, Thor, Tony

K- Kneeling

Loki, Natasha, Zemo

L- Love Making

Adam Warlock, Bucky, Pietro, Steve Rogers, Thor, Tony, Valkyrie, Yelena, Zemo

M- Multiple Orgasms

Adam Warlock, Bucky, Fandral, Loki, Natasha, Pietro, Sif, Thor, Tony, Valkyrie, Wanda, Yelena

N- Nipple Play

Carol, Natasha, Sam Wilson, Valkyrie, Wanda

O- Orgasm Denial

Loki, Natasha, Valkyrie

P- Praise

Adam Warlock, Bucky, Pietro, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Yelena

Q- Quickies

Natasha, Pietro, Tony

R- Riding

Adam Warlock, Bucky, Eddie Brock, Pietro, Steve Rogers, Thor, Tony

S- Spanking

Loki, Tony, Valkyrie, Zemo

T- Threesome

Carol, Fandral, Loki, Pietro, Sif, Thor, Tony, Valkyrie, Zemo

U- Uniforms

Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Valkyrie, Zemo

V- Voyeurism

Loki, Natasha, Wanda, Zemo

W- Whips

Loki, Valkyrie, Zemo

X- X-Cross

Loki, Natasha, Valkyrie, Zemo

Y- Yelling (REALLY loud moaning)

Adam Warlock, Fandral, Loki, M’Baku, Natasha, Pietro, Sam Wilson, Sif, Thor, Tony

Z- Zipper Sex

Bucky, Eddie Brock, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers

30 notes · View notes

braveclementine · 22 days

Text

Early

Warnings: 18+readersonly, lots of angst, lots of backstory

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs, which consist of Penny Fury, Elizabeth Nelson, Elijah Chan, Katya Venice, Violetta Moscow, Lan Le, Josh, Trang Tien, Ahni Jallow, Mai Ito, and Ghaida Kashual as well as other OCs that will come up throughout the story.

Warning: Not everything lines up perfectly with the MCU timeline- I know. Ignore it and pretend it does. Please don't put a gazillion comments saying "Actually- this happened only two years after this" or whatever. I know, I know. Just go with the flow.

☀️ ⛅️ Ⓢtόг𝐘 👹👇

Penny watched, concerned as Heimdall laid the unconscious girl down on the sofa in the community room. Everyone that was part of the Avengers, Guardians, Wakandans, or extras were there.

"Elijah, are you okay?" Katya asked him in concern. He looked pale- or as pale as his yellow complexion would allow him- and was holding his stomach where Elizabeth's tattoo used to sit on his stomach.

"Yeah." Elijah mumbled, sinking down on the floor next to Elizabeth's legs. "It hurts though. I'm not sure why."

"It's all the pain she's felt in her life coming onto you." Ghaida answered, eyes flickering to the orange colour associated with Viden. "I think it would be less if she had more soulmates to share it with."

"Is she going to be okay?" Steve asked, looking between Ghaida and Elizabeth.

"Yes." Heimdall answered slowly, sinking into the couch next to Fandral. "This is mostly where my visions have ended. But, Wanda, the last step will be to show her memories to all of us. This is critically important."

Wanda looked startled and exchanged a look with her brother. Pietro was the one to voice it, "Isn't that. . . rather intrusive?"

"Believe me," Heimdall said. "This is important. She could try to explain everything she saw when she wakes- which she will attempt to do- but if we see it instead, it will make things easier on her afterwards."

Pietro hesitated and then glanced at Wanda.

"Hurry." Ghaida urged, looking at Wanda. "If you're going to do it. I agree with Heimdall and so does Viden."

Penny settled down on the couch between Rhodey and Natasha. She felt as unsettled as Pietro about the whole idea of seeing Elizabeth's memories. This would be everything the girl had ever experienced in her life. There were definitely things that Penny would hate for others to see.

Wanda placed her hand over Elizabeth's head and then what seemed almost like a transparent cloud appeared in the air. It because larger and larger until it was almost like a 3D, projector screen. Then it settled into becoming solid and clear like watching the highest budgeted movie.

Despite being Elizabeth's memories as well, everything was in a third person point of view. At the moment, it was just an empty room. It was a fancy room with cream walls and what looked like gold gilded edges. In fact, it look awfully like a room from Asgard. The walls were tall and diamond tinted.

The crib itself was always fancy, like she was a member of royalty. It was pink and seemed to be decorated with crystals, sapphires, and some sort of ice-blue stone that Penny didn't know the name to.

Loki inhaled sharply, eyes widening and he shot a look at Heimdall just as the memory faded and shifted.

Now, Elizabeth was being held in the arms of a fair woman in the same dome that Heimdall kept guard in. Heimdall looked the same in this memory, complete with the armor and the sword. The woman had H/L, H/C hair and bright/dark H/C eyes.

"Y/N" Heimdall greeted her lowly.

"Heimdall," the woman named Y/N said, coming closer to the all-seeing God.

"No." Loki whispered, horrified.

"How long do you believe you'll be down there?" Heimdall asked. "I will find an excuse for your absence, of course."

Y/N laughed, a sound which was like bells. "You're funny Heimdall. You know perfectly well how long I'll be on Midgard." She softened a little bit and became sad, "You and I both know it's coming closer. I wanted him to meet his daughter, despite the risks."

Heimdall reached out, putting a hand on the baby, who was blinking her eyes up at the yellow-eyed God. "And we both know its' your last." He smiled at her sadly. "You will be able to choose this time, at least." They were both silent for a moment and then he added, "Do not tell him her name."

"Oh?" Y/N asked in obvious surprise. "Why not?"

"When he asks for her name, tell him you have not named her yet and that you simply want it to start with an E." Heimdall continued, "It's important for her future."

"So it will not always be Eslanda?" Y/N asked sadly.

"No. At least, not unless she chooses it herself. We shall see. I only see her future so far."

Y/N nodded. "Thank you for everything Heimdall."

Heimdall nodded and then set his sword in the stone. Y/N pressed the baby into her bosom to hide her face from the light and everything went black for a little bit.

When the memory resurfaced, she was on a farm. A young man, perhaps nineteen or twenty with black hair was striding across the farm, a huge grin on his face. "Y/N!"

"Paul!" Y/N sang in delight, letting the farmer boy wrap her into a hug, pulling her into a passionate kiss.

Paul's eyes lit up upon landing on the little girl in Y/N's arm. "Is this her? Our daughter?"

"Yes." Y/N smiled, hoisting her up in her arms now. The little girl who couldn't possibly be more than six months old blinked at the smiling man.

"What's her name? Can I hold her?" Paul asked.

"I- I haven't named her yet." Y/N said softly. "I thought you might want to name her. I just want it to start with an E. And of course you can hold her, she's your daughter too."

Paul carefully made a cradle with his arms and Y/N gently laid their daughter there. Paul's face split into an even bigger grin and his eyes were full of love. "She's so beautiful. Just like her mother." He kissed Elizabeth's forehead. Then he looked at his soulmate, "What about. . . Elizabeth?"

"I like it." Y/N smiled.

"C'mon, how long can you stay?" Paul asked, gently shifting Elizabeth into one arm, holding his hand out for Y/N. The little girl was starting to fall asleep, the memory flickering.

It faded and then opened up to another room. This one was fancy as well, but not on the level that Penny had experienced when she had gone. It seemed this one was more for the servants.

Loki was in the room this time, looking a little younger than he did now. His hair was a little shorter and his face seemed. . . well younger. Except that it was screwed up in anger as he and Y/N were in a shouting match with each other.

"WAS I NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!?" Loki spat angrily.

"You were!" Y/N protested.

"YOU ALREADY SAID SHE'S NOT MINE!" Loki roared.

"She's from my soulmate!" Y/N shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. "We BOTH agreed that we would be with our soulmates when we found them!"

Loki scoffed, but lowered his voice, "And what guard or lowly servant ended up-"

"He's Midgardian." Y/N said, turning away from Penny's soulmate and walked over to pick up the little girl who was starting to cry.

Loki's face turned to shock first, then incredulity, and then he started to laugh, a disgusted look on his face, "You slept with a Midgardian? How low can you get? Pathetic."

"He's a good man." Y/N said defensively. "He treats me well and I love him. Midgardians are no different-"

"If you say than 'us' I'm going to vomit." Loki replied scathingly. "Midgardians are lower than the Dark Elves or the Ice Giants. They're not fit to wipe the shoes of the poorest Asgardian."

"We'll see whose laughing when you end up having Midgardians for your own soulmates." Y/N snapped, walking over and putting Elizabeth in her crib. "Besides, what does it matter? Eslanda is the Goddess of love! A Goddess! Even with her dirty, Midgardian blood."

Loki cackled, still hooked on the first part, "Me? The future King of Asgard, soulmated to a Midgardian? You have a poor sense of humor Y/N. And even if I were unfortunate enough to be soulmated to one, it wouldn't matter to me." Loki took steps forward until he was towering over Y/N and he hissed, "I would slit their throats without even blinking and never feel an ounce of regret or guilt. I would rather be soulmateless than be soulmated to a Midgardian. And I'm disappointed that you lowered yourself to do so yourself."

"I'm so sorry." Loki groaned suddenly. Penny jerked, forgetting where she was for a second and looked over. The God of Mischief had hidden his face behind both his hands, slumped where he was sitting between Peter Quil and Tony.

"It's alright bubs." Tony chuckled, squeezing Loki's knee, "You were always dramatic and my throat doesn't seem to be cut yet."

Stephen chuckled with Tony and Clint at that. Loki looked at Penny and she winked at him with a smile. Loki absolutely loved her, something she knew, and Tony was right- he hadn't slit her throat either. Besides, everyone always said things they regretted later. And he had been heated during this discussion.

The next memory was standing in a large chamber. Odin sat on the throne in front of the crowd, Y/N standing in front of him. She wasn't shackled or bound, but she had guards on either side of her. She was holding Elizabeth in her arms.

"Do you plead guilty to the crime of sleeping with a Midgardian?" Odin thundered in his throne. Penny watched Queen Frigga, who was not sitting in a throne beside the King, but was standing to the side of the guards, looking on with worry.

Y/N tilted her chin high and said proudly. "I plead to sleeping with my soulmate, Midgardian or not."

The crowd muttered and hissed but Y/N did not back down, keeping her eyes directly on Odins'. Penny also noticed that Thor, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg were nowhere to be seen. But Loki was standing on the opposite side of his mother, tense. Sif stood next to him, glancing between Y/N and him as though wanting to say something as well.

"And you understand that the punishment to this crime is death."

"Who are you to declare who has the right to be happy with their soulmate and who does not?" Y/N bit out. "Who are you to say these people get soulmates and these do not!? I deserved my happiness as much as anyone else! And my soulmate is a Midgardian man! I do not and will never regret loving him. And I hope that one day, you make changes to your law, or else you will be killing Asgardians very close to you."

"You told her." Loki whispered. "You told her my soulmates were Midgardian."

"Yes." Heimdall rumbled. "Yours and Thors. I told her, she wanted to know that you were happy."

Loki wept then, into his hands.

Penny closed her eyes, squeezing Natashas' hands, burying her face into Rhodey's shoulder, unable to watch the death of Elizabeth's mother. And she did not lift her head again until she heard Queen Frigga cry out, "Wait!"

Penny looked up to see that Elizabeth seemed to be up next for death. But Queen Frigga had stepped out now, "Wait. This child has done nothing wrong. She is innocent of any crimes. She does not deserve death."

Odin hesitated and then nodded and said, "Who will raise. . . it?"

There was silence and the silence drew until suddenly Loki said, "I will."

There were gasps and whispers immediately broke out from the crowd. Loki looked resigned as he took the girl from the soldier's arms and walked away with her.

The memory shifted once more, Loki was in the dome with Heimdall. Elizabeth was still very young, perhaps now only two or so. Heimdall was sitting on the steps and Elizabeth was attempting to play with the handle of his sword.

"Send her to her father." Loki was saying. "I don't want to raise her."

"I know." Heimdall said, "But I will not send her away. It's not her time."

Loki scoffed, "Why do I ever come to you for anything?"

"Because I'm the wisest person on this planet." Heimdall said in complete seriousness. "Besides, perhaps, your mother."

Loki rolled his eyes. "I am not father material."

"I agree. So stop trying to be a father to her." Heimdall said.

Loki threw his hands up in the air. "What do you think I'm doing? I'm trying to send her away!"

Heimdall sighed, "I will take her off your hands."

Loki seemed stunned, "You will?"

"Yes." Heimdall said. "I think that is for the best. It would be better for the two of you not to build a connection anyways."

Loki rolled his eyes again and stalked out of the dome. Elizabeth looked up and watched him go. "Daddy go?"

Heimdall was silent for a moment and then looked down at the little girl. "He's not your dad sweetheart. You shouldn't think of him like that."

But she was to young to understand. Heimdall picked her up and set her on his knee. "Wha' you see?" She asked, putting a small hand against his cheek and he smiled a little.

"Many things, little one." Heimdall said softly. "Many futures. Happy ones and sad ones. Two paths. Perhaps, one day, it'll be just the two of us. Or perhaps the whole family will be together, I know not. That decision will lie with you one day."

She hadn't changed much in the next vision, though now she was inside the palace, sitting on a plush chair. Loki was messing with something around her wrist. "This. . . make me special?" She asked, looking up at him.

He didn't answer for a minute until he met her eyes and then, standing up, said, "You were always special. I'm doing this for selfish reasons that you can't comprehend."

He pressed the button on the wrist and the girl winced. He retreated and said, "Does anything seem different?"

Penny watched as a silvery gray smoke figure of her mother appeared from the shadows and Elizabeth's eyes widened.

"My daughter." Y/N whispered, bending down. The smoke hand graced her tiny cheek and Elizabeth made a grabbing motion. "Mommy?"

Loki gasped, stepping closer, "Y/N?"

Y/N did not turn to Loki and Loki could not see her. Elizabeth was in awe as her mother pulled her into a hug and Loki watched Elizabeth hug nothing.

Penny was actually sad as the memory dissipated and then it turned to horror. Everything on Asgard seemed to be on fire and Elizabeth toddled along, crying, looking terrified. Things were flying down from the ceiling. Asgardians were screaming. Penny saw Sif was fighting a bunch of aliens, kicking one and then stabbing it through the head with a sword.

Elizabeth started running towards her, tripping over rocks and stones, ducking under flying debris. "SIF!" She screamed in her baby voice and Sif turned towards her just as an incredibly ugly alien stepped in front of her.

Elizabeth fell backwards and tried running away, but the alien grabbed her with one hand and they were beamed upwards just as Sif tried to plunge her sword into the aliens' back.

"Aw good." Penny gave a start, seeing that Thanos was on the ship. "We retreat immediately."

Elizabeth scampered away into a corner, crying.

The memory faded and came back. Elizabeth was no longer crying, wearing a blue dress made of fabric. She looked terrified though as Thanos stood in front of her. The little girl didn't even come up to his knee yet.

"Princess Lokidottir." Thanos rumbled, kneeling down. "Is that what they call you on Asgard?"

Elizabeth shook her head, but didn't say anything.

"What is your name then? You don't have to be scared, little one."

"E." Elizabeth whispered.

Thanos hummed in thought. "You and I are going to do great things, little one."

And once again, the memory faded.

Now, Elizabeth looked a little taller, but not much older. A young Nebula was in the room too. She didn't have as many mechanical parts and it was probably the point where she had just joined Thanos.

"Have you seen him win?" Nebula asked in excitement, but Elizabeth still looked terrified of everything around her. "Have you?"

"No." Elizabeth whispered. "It isn't working."

There were flashes after that, things that didn't seem to make sense.

"He experimented on her." Nebula whispered, once again, jolting Penny to reality. "He wanted her to be able to see the future. It worked, eventually."

"What did you see, my child?" Thanos asked as Elizabeth stood in front of him. She didn't look terrified now. She was wearing warrior clothes now, looking no taller than before. She messed with her fingers as she spoke.

"In ten years, you go to a planet called Zen-Whoberi." Elizabeth whispered. "You slaughter half the population and you take a girl called Gamora. You adopt her as your daughter and raise her with Nebula. With your daughters, you get the six infinity stones, though it will take many, many years, and you. . . win."

Gamora gasped and Peter put his arm around her shoulder.

Thanos smiled then, standing. He did not notice Elizabeth's eyes, which were containing the rest of the secret: How he would lose.

"Well done, my daughter, well done." He praised.

"I'm not." She whispered. "In order to have Gamora, you replace me. You send me to a blue planet." Elizabeth said. "A blue planet with white on it. I know not what it is called."

Thanos sighed, "Then it shall be done."

The memory faded and once again, Elizabeth was standing in front of a ship. The doors opened and a blue skinned man came out of it, looking at Thanos warily.

"Yondu." Quil whispered from beside Heimdall. His voice was full of sadness and Penny understood that he was important to Quil.

"Lucky thing we're already making a stop on Earth, otherwise I wouldn't be taking this." Yondu said, sounding almost angry. "We don't usually take children as cargo."

"Well you'll be paid handsomely." Thanos promised as Elizabeth silently stepped onto the ship.

"Yeah." Yondu smirked, stepping back into the ship. As the door closed, he muttered, "It won't be our pockets that hurt, but our morals. Well, welcome aboard kid. Get settled, no one will hurt you."

Elizabeth pushed along, finding an empty seat and stayed there for the entire ship ride. When Yondu finally called her over, she found that a boy about ten years old was already there, hopping to his feet, looking around wildly.

Elizabeth didn't get a good time to look at him before she was being transferred to Earth.

The next memory was at a police station.

"I don't know." An operator was saying as Elizabeth stared at her feet. "She just keeps saying her name is 'E' and that her father lives here. But she doesn't have a name on him or even what he looks like. If we don't find him soon, they're going to send her off into foster care."

"Alright, let me try."

Penny blinked in surprise, seeing her Uncle Phil kneel down in front of the little girl. He was much younger, with more hair and his face was nowhere near as lined. She looked around, but Phil and Maria had stayed home tonight. Her father, on the other hand, leaned forwards in interest.

"Hey sweetie." Phil said. "Listen, I really want to find your father and send you home, but I need you to tell me where he lives."

Elizabeth stayed silent.

"You got a name? Description? Anything that can help us find him? Cause if not, we're going to have to find replacement parents-"

"A farm." Elizabeth interrupted, eyes becoming scared at the idea of replacement parents. "In. . . Ohio."

Phil cursed and stood up. "She's a long way from home. She said he lives on a farm in Ohio."

"Oh yeah, that narrows it down." The operator said scathingly in stress.

"We'll find him." Phil said.

"Black hair." Elizabeth whispered. "He had black hair."

"How old are you?" Phil asked.

Elizabeth blinked. She shook her head.

"Alright, that's okay. You look about five." Phil said, "You want a cookie?"

She just blinked again.

Phil hesitated and then got up and brought back a plate of chocolate chip cookies. "Here. If you're hungry, you can eat these. . . I don't think there's anything allergy related in these. . . I hope."

Elizabeth picked one up after he'd gone away and then ate it. She soon ate all of the cookies and curled up in her chair, hugging her arms around her knees.

Phil brought back a picture after some time, "Is this him?" Penny couldn't see the picture but Elizabeth nodded. "Okay." Phil smiled. "We'll have someone take you to him, okay?" Elizabeth nodded again.

The memory faded in and out as Elizabeth napped and then a female was leading a man over to Elizabeth. "- here."

Penny didn't need Tony to softly gasp to know that it was Howard Stark in the memory.

"Hi sweetheart." Howard said, kneeling down in front of her. "My name is Howard Stark. I'm going to take you to your father, okay?" He held out a hand gently and after a second, Elizabeth took it.

Howard stood up and led Elizabeth out to where a luxurious black car was waiting. Howard opened the back door and Elizabeth climbed into it. There was an old dog stuffed animal in the backseat and Elizabeth looked at it, but didn't touch it. Howard climbed in next to her.

"Jarvis," Howard said, looking over at Elizabeth, "Cracker Barrel first."

They pulled up to the restaurant and Howard helped Elizabeth down out of the car. The little girls' eyes blew up wide as saucers looking at everything in the store. She stopped in front of a little girl dress. It was pink, but not fancy or anything, before quickly turning and stumbling into Howard again. He smiled down at her.

Howard nodded subtly to Jarvis, who picked up the dress and moved to the counter with it. Howard also lobbed a bunny stuffed animal after his servant, who chuckled as he caught it.

"Mr. Stark." The female hostess gushed, immediately fixing her hair, blushing furiously as Howard approached, with Elizabeth in hand. Jarvis met them soon, the bag in his hand. "Right this way."

"Do you know what you want to eat?" Howard asked Elizabeth, who frowned at the menu. She shook her head.

"Do you like meat?" Howard asked. Elizabeth nodded.

"Chicken?"

Another nod.

"Ever had mac and cheese?"

She shook her head.

"Fries?"

Another shake.

Howard looked a little sad. "Are you scared of me?"

Elizabeth looked up at him and then shook her head again. Howard smiled a little.

They ordered and then Howard brought her over to the checkers and put her on his lap and taught her while he played against Jarvis. She watched and said nothing. But when Howard went to make a bad move, Elizabeth grabbed his hand quickly and shook her head.

"Yeah?" Howard asked with a smile.

Elizabeth pointed at another piece that would jump two of Jarvis' and give him the crown.

"Smart girl." Howard grinned and did so. Jarvis faked a groan and the first smile came over Elizabeth's face. "Bet she could beat you all by herself, Jar."

Jarvis chuckled, "I'm sure she could, sir."

The memory eventually trailed off until it was Elizabeth and Howard in the backseat of the car while Jarvis continued to drive. The sun was just coming up and Elizabeth had been asleep in Howard's lap, her hands clutching the rabbit stuffed animal tightly. She sat up now, rubbing her eyes.

While Elizabeth had not changed, Paul certainly had. A man in his late thirties with starting to gray black hair came out on the lawn. He was much heavier than he had been the last time they had seen him. He was also wearing glasses and had more wrinkles on his face.

Paul looked a little shocked as he looked as his daughter, "This is her?"

"Yes." Howard said, smiling at her.

"Elizabeth?" Paul asked uncertainly.

The little girl nodded and stumbled into his arms and he wrapped them tightly around her. Paul stood up with her in his arms. "Thank you, sir."

"Of course." Howard said. "If my baby. . . I'd want someone to do the same."

"Mr. Stark." Another voice said in surprise. A young, probably in her twenties Lucinda came to join the rest of them. She had long red-brown hair and wasn't wearing glasses yet.

"Lucinda." Howard said, nodding to her.

"You two know each other?" Paul asked in surprise.

"He kind've founded S.H.I.E.L.D." Lucinda laughed, "You know, where I work. Him and Margaret Carter, how is she? How's the family?"

"She's good." Howard said with a smile. "And my family's great. I think my son might get into MIT younger than I did." He added with a chuckle. "Anyways, I best get back to them."

"Are you any closer on finding Rogers?" Lucinda asked suddenly.

Steve fidgeted on the couch.

Howard sighed. "I wish. I wish. Hopefully we will, I know he's out there."

Eventually he drove off and Paul carried Elizabeth into the house.

"Lucky thing she came now." Paul sighed, putting her down, "We're just about to move too."

"Who is she?" Lucinda asked, perching on the armchair.

"My other soulmate. . . Y/N. We had a daughter. . . eleven years ago. But she was uh, from another planet, I mean, you've heard me tell you the story before. Anyways, I know she died. It was illegal for us to be together. But I never knew what happened to her. She. . . she hasn't changed much."

"She doesn't look like she's eleven." Lucinda agreed.

"It must be the Asgardian blood." Paul said, but he sounded worried. "They age much slower. I hope. . ."

"You hope she'll be old enough to take care of herself when we're both gone?" Lucinda finished softly.

Paul nodded.

Lucinda kissed the top of his head and hugged him from behind. "She'll be okay. We'll figure it out."

In the next memory, Elizabeth looked a little older. She was wearing a white karate outfit and had a white belt around her waist. She was practicing with a dark African American man.

"Is that. . . Mordo?" Stephen suddenly asked and Penny looked over at him.

"Yes." Wong answered, "And before you ask, yes that's me as well."

Penny watched as a younger Wong and a tall, thin, bald lady wearing bright yellow robes walked amongst the rest of the crowd. They came to a stop by Elizabeth. Since it was in third point of view, they could hear what she was saying to Wong, even though Elizabeth couldn't.

"It would be good to train her in the magic arts now, her magic feels strong." Wong said.

"Not yet." The Ancient one said, "Not much, anyways. Mordo!"

The dark skinned man looked over at her and she gave a slight nod. He turned back to Elizabeth, pulling out a sling ring, and handing it to her.

"I don't understand though." Wong said, watching as Mordo instructed Elizabeth on how to use it. "She- you said the man was-"

"Strange, will be the best of us. Or he is supposed to be, at the very least." The Ancient One said, sighing. "But she will be the most powerful of us. Should we teach her at the wrong time or before the right time, we risk losing her to a dark side. A side we won't get her back from."

"Why not take her to the Sanctorum?" Wong asked. "Keep her there and teach her?"

Orange butterflies exploded from Elizabeth's hands, filling the gym before bursting into sparkles that drifted down from the gym.

"Because of that." The Ancient One finally said. "She is still to young. And it would be unacceptable to keep her in a place full of magic that she cannot control."

"Hey!" An angry voice rang through and Lucinda came storming up the gym side. Elizabeth dropped the sling ring in surprise and Mordo picked it up. Lucinda grabbed Elizabeth's arm. "Don't teach my daughter magic. I don't want her knowing anything about that stuff." She dragged Elizabeth out of the gym.

Elizabeth was in the gym again and the Ancient One walked around her, but did not interact with her. She stooped in front of her bag, putting a sling ring in the front pocket, before the bag glowed gold. Then the Ancient One walked off again.

Elizabeth now looked about eight-ish, possibly even nine. She was wrapped in a fur coat and she had her head sheltered against the snow and ice until they were inside a building. Soldiers moved back and forth.

Finally, she stepped into a room with her mother.

A strangled cry fell from Bucky's lips, seeing himself in the memory.

"Are you sure about this?" Some soldier asked.

"I'm certain." Lucinda said coldly. She was a little older now, wearing glasses and her hair was shorter and more brown than red. She stepped forwards more, "Soldat, You will train my daughter in self defense. You're her teacher."

Bucky's eyes landed on Elizabeth and she looked up at him. Bucky looked at Lucinda, "She's five." He deadpanned.

There was a cracking sound and Bucky was on his knees, bleeding from his shoulder. But he made no sound as the whip came down a few more times.

Penny was trembling in anger and she was aware that Nat was squeezing her hand tightly. Rhodey's arm was tight around her shoulder too. Steve, Sam, Tony, and Clint were bristling in anger along with Katya and Wanda.

Suddenly, the whip faltered as Elizabeth stood in front of Bucky, looking up at the soldier who'd been whipping him.

The soldier looked at Lucinda who was smirking. "Leave them alone. Don't hurt her Soldat."

When the two of them were alone, Elizabeth took off her jacket and placed it on the bench. She stepped over to Bucky. "A-are we alone?"

"No." Bucky grunted, "Cameras."

Elizabeth put her hand on his whip marks and they slowly closed up. Bucky got to his feet, taking his shirt off and putting on another one.

"What's your name?" Elizabeth asked softly.

"Soldat." Bucky replied coldly. "Do you already know self-defense?"

"Yes." Elizabeth said, "And that's not a name. That's just 'Soldier' in. . . well whatever language that is."

"Russian."

"Which I don't speak so I'm not calling you that." Elizabeth replied stubbornly.

"Well that's the only name I have unless you want to call me the Asset." Bucky said coldly. "Now show me what you've got."

"Everyone has a name." Elizabeth argued.

"People, have names. Objects don't." Bucky said, moving behind her.

Elizabeth faltered for a second. Bucky had his back to her, messing with something in the background. "I don't have a name either. Does that mean I'm an object?"

Something had changed in Bucky's demeanor. He had frozen and now he lowered his hands, turning and looking at her with a softer look on his face, "You don't have a name either, huh?"

"They just call me E." Elizabeth whispered.

Bucky nodded and said, "Show me your form."

Elizabeth got into her fighting position and Bucky rolled his eyes. "Everything about that is wrong."

An adorable look of surprise appeared on Elizabeth's face. Bucky almost smiled and moved to show her his stance, which she immediately mimicked with determination.

As Bucky went to say something she said, "I'm going to give you a name!"

"You are?" Bucky asked, stunned.

"Yep." She squinted her eyes at him. "You look like a Sebastian."

Bucky looked lost. "Uh huh."

"I'm going to call you Sebastian!" Elizabeth sang happily.

Bucky just shook his head and started working through more motions with her. Finally, the two of them sat down on a bench. Bucky looked over at her. "I'll give you a name too."

Elizabeth's eyes shone as she looked up at him, "Really!"

He nodded and was silent for a moment and then said, "You kind've look like an Elly."

Elizabeth smiled at that and the corner of Bucky's mouth almost lifted. She pointed to his metal arm. "Can I touch it?"

Bucky didn't answer, simply moving it forwards and she ran her small hand up of him, "Does it hurt?"

Bucky hesitated, looking down in her face and then said, "Just a little."

"Can you feel it?" Elizabeth asked, walking her fingers up his arm.

"Yes." Bucky sounded surprise, "I can't normally. . . "

The memory faded again. This time opening back up to Elizabeth sitting on a bed in a HYDRA cell room. She had tears dripping down her eyes and Bucky was sitting on the bed. "It's just until the next mission."

"But I'll miss you!" She cried. "I don't like anyone else here!"

Bucky patted her knee, "It's okay. I brought you something." He reached behind him and pulled out a small kitten stuffed animal. "She's a little friend. You can name her too."

Elizabeth took the stuffed kitten, holding it tightly to her chest. Bucky petted her head and then stood up. "Just stay in here, okay?"

"Okay." Elizabeth whispered.

And of course, since Elizabeth stayed, the rest of them couldn't see it. But it was heard when Bucky started screaming through the place. Elizabeth dropped the kitten, pressing her hands tightly over her ears, squeezing her eyes shut.

The memories dipped in and out of her going to Elementary school, mostly being a lonely kid who always had her stuffed kitten. The only time that something exciting seemed to happen was when some boys ripped the kitten from her hands and threw it in a tree. She went ballistic, beating all of them up before climbing the tree, getting the kitten, and not coming down until Paul and Lucinda showed up.

The memory changed again. Bucky was back out. He was wrapping his hands, clearly about to go workout. Elizabeth ran and jumped on his back, locking her arms and legs around him, "SEBASTIAN!"

"Hey kid." Bucky chuckled, letting her cling to him until he had finished wrapping his hand. Then, grabbing her leg, he lifted her off of him, dangling her upside down for a second, before dumping her gently on the floor, her backpack squished underneath her like a turtle on its back. "What are you supposed to be doing instead of bothering me, munchkin?"

Elizabeth pouted, "I hate homework."

"To bad." Bucky said, putting up a punching bag.

Elizabeth scrambled to her feet, plopping down at a desk that was clearly set up just for her. "It's boring!" She whined, "It's about World War II in 1945 and that's so long ago! Who cares if someone blond idiot with a shield single handedly ended the war? It was a gazillion years ago!"

Tony started to chuckle at that. Steve smiled a little.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her. "'Blond idiot with a shield' huh? Does said blond idiot have a name?"

"Steven Grant Rogers." Elizabeth groaned, pulling homework out of her backpack and so she missed when Bucky froze. She whined, "I don't want to do this! War is stupid."

"Elly." Bucky scolded, recovering quickly, eyes darting around the room. "Listen. You need to know your history. It's extremely important and here's a little secret. Can you keep it between just the two of us?"

"Yes." Elizabeth nodded.

"I love history." Bucky whispered. "Especially about the world war II era." He was silent for a second and then playfully said, "And show Rogers some respect. He's still your elder." He pushed her shoulder playfully and then went at the punching bag like a maniac. And Elizabeth might not have been able to see it, now immersed in her work, but Bucky was crying.

"Punk." Steve murmured softly, pulling Bucky into him.

"I don't remember this." Bucky said dully. "None of it. I don't remember a girl ever being there. I don't. . . I don't remember her."

The memory shifted again. Elizabeth was holding her mothers hand, looking older once more. She tugged on it as Lucinda spoke to another agent. "Mom! Please!"

"One second sweetheart." Lucinda said, not looking down at her.

Elizabeth was holding a stuffed animal again- this time a small seal with bright blue eyes.

"Alright, you can go and say bye." Lucinda sighed as Elizabeth tugged at her hand again. The other woman rolled her eyes and muttered, "Not like he can hear her." Lucinda just shrugged, letting go of Elizabeths' hand.

Elizabeth ran to another room, grabbing a stool and pushing it up against a cryo tank. She climbed onto the chair and put a small hand on the glass. Bucky was behind the glass, frozen, eyes closed. Tears pooled in Elizabeth's eyes. "Bye Sebastian." She choked out. "Thank you for the seal. I'll see you in June."

"E!" Her mother shouted from the other room, calling for her.

She hopped down from the chair and ran away.

The memory shifted and now Elizabeth was walking through the forest. The seal was tucked under her arm and she was eating a green apple as she walked, hopping over logs and stuff.

Suddenly, her apple disappeared from her hand and she fell backwards, dropping the seal in a puddle of mud. Her apple was stuck to a tree, quivering, having been pierced by an arrow.

A kid, a young boy who was maybe twelve or thirteen jumped down in front of her, grinning. He had brown hair and eyes. "You should've seen your face. Sorry if I scared you."

"Really?" Rhodey chuckled suddenly.

"Oh God." Clint put his hands over his face.

Penny looked closer at the memory and then, along with Natasha, Katya, and Pietro asked, "That's you?"

"Yep." Clint said, chuckling nervously. "This is going to be embarrassing."

"Oh no." Elizabeth cried out, dismayed, picking up the seal. She glared at Clint, "Look what you did!"

"Hey, I said sorry." Clint apologized sincerely. "I know how we can get the mud out. Do you trust me?"

"You shot an arrow at me." Elizabeth deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest.

Clint laughed and got her apple and his arrow. He slid his arrow through and handed her the apple. "I was just practicing. C'mon."

He took her hand, leading her through the forest until they got to a stream. Then, he took the seal and dabbed water, using a leaf until the mud was all gone. "See? Good as new." He handed it back and she hugged it.

"Say," Clint said excitedly. "Are you part of the circus too?"

Elizabeth hesitated and then nodded, "My step-mom wants me to be a part of it while she does something."

"Cool, what are you doing?" Clint asked. "I'm doing archery, obviously. I'm pretty good at it."

The memory fizzled and now, it was Elizabeth up high on a high wire, practicing. She was flawless at it, doing flips and keeping her balance.

It changed and now Elizabeth and Clint were up high, laying next to each other. "My legs feel like jelly." She complained.

"Yeah, they work us pretty hard here." Clint said, his eyes closed. "But it's just cause we're young. They want the child performers to be perfect. It's tiring."

"Why are you here?"

"I ran away from my foster home." Clint yawned.

"I was going to be put in a foster home." Elizabeth said softly. "If they couldn't find my parents."

"It sucks."

"Yeah, I wouldn't know Sebastian if I had been." Elizabeth smiled.

"Whose Sebastian? Your soulmate?" Clint asked, sounding almost jealous.

"No." Elizabeth sighed. "He's. . . I'm not supposed to talk about him."

Clint opened his eyes and looked over at her, "I can keep a secret."

Elizabeth opened her eyes too to stare at them. "He's. . . my protector. He keeps me safe from bad people."

"What kind of bad people?"

Elizabeth was silent for a second and then said, "One time. . . I was sneaking around the compound. A guard came across me. I wasn't supposed to be out of bed. He was going to hit me, but Sebastian stopped him. He ki-" She cut off suddenly, clamming up.

"He killed him?" Clint's eyes were wide now.

Elizabeth looked guilty. "I- I wasn't suppos-"

"Badass." Clint grinned at the sky. "He must like you."

Elizabeth was silent and said, "We're each others best friends. But, sometimes, he's not always himself. He. . . he's special."

Clint smiled and then let Elizabeth snuggle into him. He grinned, putting a hand on her back, "Just like you, little bird."

In the next memory, Elizabeth was performing in front of a crowd on the high wire. She finished her performance and went through the back of the tent to find one of the hands beating down on Clint.

"Leave him alone!" Elizabeth shouted, lunging at the hand. The hand cried out, falling backwards. His shoulders landed against the lions cage. The man started to scream, even as Elizabeth didn't watch, kneeling in front of Clint.

"Clint?" Elizabeth asked desperately. "Clint!"

Clint opened his eyes and smiled, "Hey little bird."

In the next memory, Clint was wearing huge hearing aids.

"Do they hurt?" Elizabeth asked fretfully.

"Nah." Clint shrugged. "At least now I can hear. But they want me to learn ASL anyways."

"I'll learn with you." Elizabeth said. "That way, it'll be fun!"

Clint chuckled. "Sure."

There seemed to be several memories then, most of them just the two of them hanging out. Walking in the forest or horsing around with each other. Defending each other from the hands at the circus.

In another memory, the two of them were sitting next to a radio. Elizabeth was singing softly, while also signing the words as she sang. Clint just watched, a look of admiration on his face as he listened and watched.

I've been reading books of old The legends and the myths Achilles and his gold Hercules and his gifts Spider-Man's control And Batman with his fists And clearly I don't see myself upon that list

But he said, where d'you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I'm not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts Some superhero Some fairtytale bliss Just something I can turn to Somebody I can kiss I want something just like this.

Clint smirked, taking her hand and then surprisingly, took over the next couple of verses. Penny, who had never really heard him sing before, was surprised at how good he sounded.

I've been reading books of old The legends and the myths The testaments they told The moon and its eclipse And Superman unrolls A suit before he lifts But I'm not the kind of person that it fits

She said where d'you wanna go? How much you wanna risk I'm not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts Some superhero Some fairytale bliss Just something I can turn to Someobdy I can miss

I want something just like this

The song continued, though the memories changes to them running around the forest more. Like she had put a sound track to her memories almost.

Clint looked older in the next memory, prob ably more fifteen or sixteen. Elizabeth looked about ten or eleven. They were running through the forest, this time, fleeing. Angry shouts were behind them as they ran.

"Go!" Clint shouted but Elizabeth had tripped, landing harshly. Clint spun around to get her, but Elizabeth looked at her backpack, which was glowing.

She reached out and the sling ring floated into the air, landing in her hand. Clint eyed it apprehensively. "What is that?"

She staggered to her feet, but it was too late, they were surrounded. Clint grabbed her arm, pulling her to him.

"Barton." One of the men snarled.

Suddenly, a glowing portal appeared from Elizabeth's hands and she turned, sending Clint through it.

"E!" Clint shouted on the other side as the others closed in. She ripped the sling ring off and tossed it through to him, before it closed up and they tackled her.

"No!" Elizabeth shouted, flailing and fighting. Suddenly, gunshots rang through and the men scattered, but never got far as each one was taken down, one by one.

Elizabeth panted, sitting up, backing up until she saw that it was Bucky walking through the forest, his silver arm gleaming in the moonlight. "Seb!"

Bucky knelt down, picking her up in his metal arm, and then carried her out of the forest.

3 notes · View notes

thebibliomancer · 8 months

Text

Essential Avengers: Avengers #310: DEATH in OLYMPIA!

November, 1989

The triumph of BLASTAAR!

He's won already? Then what will the rest of the issue be about?

Blastaar is a nothing villain to me but I gotta say. Another good cover. Byrne's run has been good with covers.

Last time in Avengers: the Avengers had some business with some pissed off Lava Men but the only important take away is that Gilgamesh somehow died. Except he's not quite dead, only mostly dead.

The Avengers took him to Sersi to get him looked at, she shrugged and suggested they take him to Olympia. Except they only found a crater where Olympia should be (because Sprite accidentally blew the whole city into the Negative Zone).

Thor uses Mjolnir to track down Olympia and the Avengers explore the strangely empty city. And then Blastaar comes out of nowhere and blows everyone up.

This time: Sudden Odin

HEY, LISTEN TO THE CAPTION BOX WHEN IT SAYS TO ATTEND.

Odin calls the Warriors Three of Hogun, Fandral, Volstaag because his Odin-Senses have been tingling that Thor has come into the Negative Zone.

There's a bunch of Thor Lore - or Thlore - that I don't want to get into but for reasons Asgard is currently also in the Negative Zone.

But Odin senses Some Kind of Danger. He can't be more specific because he's Odindrowsy and must go into the Odinsleep soon. But he wants the Warriors Three to go, find Thor, and help him with whatever.

Meanwhile, in Olympia, Thor grabs Sersi and shields her from Blastaar.

... Byrne, you're the only one writing Avengers. How are you forgetting stuff issue to issue?

Last issue, Thor couldn't touch Sersi at all because she'd weirdly gone intangible.

Anyway, Blastaar and Thor trade boasts for a bit. Blastaar boasts that surely Thor didn't forget how much of a whallop Blastaar's blaasting packs? And Thor has a much stronger retort that Mjolnir is really cool and he's gonna kick Blastaar's ass.

Thor throws Mjolnir, Blastaar deflects it with his blaasting, and Thor dunks on him some more by saying if Blastaar "hast within thy soul no single shred of nobility... that thou might also be a foe truly worthy of a scion of Asgard."

Blastaar retorts by blowing up Sersi.

Which Thor does not care for as a rebuttal.

Shooting the hostage is a pretty dumb thing to do when facing a superhero. It just makes them mad and now you have no hostage to threaten.

Ya dumb, Blastaar.

Elsewhere, Nazi-punching pals Captain America and Namor McKenzie emerge from beneath some rubble. Or rather, Namor drags Cap out.

Cap is in bad shape.

Namor only knows that a bolt of pure, concussive force hit them so fast that Namor couldn't tell where it came from.

But there's the pyrotechnics of a big battle happening at the tower, so they know where to look for answers.

Cap tries to tell Namor not to fly off half-cocked since Cap is still too shaky to back him up. But flying off half-cocked is what Namor does.

Namor: "Do not try to stop me, old ally. He that attacked us has besmirched the honor of the avenging son of Atlantis! If he awaits in yonder tower... the waiting shall not be long before he knows my vengeance!"

Cap knows better than to try to stop Namor from flying off half-cocked so he tells him to at least be careful. Y'know, think before he acts. Wait for backup if he can.

Namor has already flown away so fast that Cap might as well be talking to a wall.

Cap speculates to himself that Namor's "manic nature" might be caused by his hybrid nature, being half-Atlantean and half-human.

I think this is foreshadowing a reveal that exactly this. Namor is a jerk sometimes because his body chemistry is weird and spending too much time on land or in the ocean fucks with his moods.

I think later stuff walked back on that and had it be that Namor is a jerk sometimes because he's a jerk sometimes.

Anyway, Byrne sets up retcons with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, huh?

Captain America is interrupted in thinking about what a genetic nightmare a half-human half-Atlantean is when he spots a crater with She-Hulk lying in the center of it.

She apparently did see what hit her so she's able to tell Cap what the class already knows. Blastaar is the dude that's antagonizing them today.

Since the battle is raging in the tower of the Great Hall that she and Sersi were exploring, She-Hulk comments that she didn't expect Sersi to give such a good fight to Blastaar.

And she's instantly proven right a panel later when, instead, Thor and Blastaar explode out of the tower, locked in combat.

Hey.

She-Hulk.

Every Eternal is a flying brick. Have some respect.

Also, couldn't Sersi just turn Blastaar into a pig? What's the limit on that?

I mean, she can't now. She blew up. But if she did get a chance to fight, doesn't she have a win button for like 90% of fights?

Anyway.

Thor and Blastaar take a really long time to fall out of the tower, punching each other along the way. Then Namor jumps after them and yanks Thor off Blastaar so only Blastaar is plummeting. But Blastaar blaasts the ground to soften his impact.

Meanwhile, a mysterious man in a white suit kirby krackle-ports into an alley, scaring off a homeless man.

The mysterious man is like good nobody who matters noticed me MY PLAN IS GOING FLAWLESSLY!

Hi, new subplot.

Granted, Avengers East Coast doesn't have nearly as many subplots as Avengers West Coast has. Avengers West Coast is all subplots and Avengers East Coast is all main plots.

Weirdly unbalanced but hey. Maybe that is a-changing.

Back at the plot, the Avengers have all surrounded Blastaar, who is blaasting nowhere near them to keep them at bay.

He says that obviously, they're trying to trick him into targeting one of them so the rest can gang up on him BUT HE IS TOO SMART FOR THAT.

She-Hulk asks him to exposit why he's even here. Last time she saw him (back in Fantastic Four #318), Annihilus blasted him to atoms.

Usually people die when they're killed.

This 100% works to get Blastaar talking because villains love expositing.

So back in that FF issue, Blastaar's own men had turned on him and shot him with a stasis ray. Since he was held in stasis, he couldn't be disintegrated. Which is the opposite of stasis. Obviously.

When Annihilus annihilated everyone else, Blastaar just got sucked into Negative Zone space and floated around for a while. He eventually got sucked into a negative space wedgie and got dropped on Olympia when it was dunked into the Negative Zone.

This all makes perfect sense, insofar as anything in comics ever makes perfect sense. As in, not really but sure.

The Eternals found Blastaar near death and not being dicks, they decided to heal him.

Blastaar: "I was grateful. To show my thanks, I tried to slay them all as quickly and painlessly as I could. Foolishly, they resisted... And the price of that resistance was utter destruction! I only hope it pained the stupid brutes as much as their stupidity pained Blastaar!"

You're kind of a dick, dude.

Anyway, in a twist, Blastaar was talking to distract the heroes, who were attentively listening.

He blaasts Thor and She-Hulk. Namor jumps right into battle and gets immediately blaasted.

Leaving just Captain America.

Captain America: "Blast it all! What comes over Namor?! Sometimes he acts as if he doesn't have a brain in his head!"

Cap tells Blastaar not to get cocky because he's still standing, which Blastaar scoffs at. Captain America doesn't even have super powers! Depending on the era!

Captain America: "Maybe not. The super-soldier serum that transformed me into Captain America made me a perfect physical specimen, not a super one... But I still have a few aces to play... Such as my legendary shield!"

Really depends on whether you consider peak human to be superpowers or not.

Both Captain America and Black Panther have a thing where a super drug made them about as strong, fast, durable, whatever as it is physically possible for a person to be.

But a comic book's idea of what that is means the two of them do stuff that is blatantly super-human but in the world of a comic, anybody could hypothetically train to do maybe?

I usually just consider it to be a superpower, albeit a low key superpower.

Even if you don't consider peak human a superpower, the super-soldier serum has slowed Cap's aging way the hell down. Which sounds super to me.

Anyway. Cap rushes right at Blastaar but with his shield up, allowing him to deflect the obvious counterattaack.

He manages to tackle Blastaar but the Negative Zonian kicks Cap away and then blaasts the tower of the Great Hall, sending debris raining down on Cap.

But then Cap is saved by the Warriors Three!

Hogun smashes the rubble before it can smash Cap.

Blastaar thinks oh shit more Asgardians. So the instant they turn to look at Thor pulling himself out from under some rubble, Blastaar books it.

He just scarpers.

He decides to exercise the better part of valor until he can turn the situation back to his advantage but then the weather turns against him.

The wind kicks up, the air glows with energy, and Blastaar is lifted off the ground.

It's weird weather but it's not weird Thor weather!

It's weird Eternal energy ghost weather!

The energy ghosts bonk Blastaar into the scenery for a bit and then throw him to the ground. They coalesce into the Eternals and then Ikaris does what he does and kicks Blastaar's ass.

Cap asks the question everyone is wondering. Hey, why aren't the Eternals dead?

And Sersi explains it.

Eternals are hard to kill.

They have "complete control of their physical structure, even down to the atomic level."

Blastaar lucked into his blaasts having resonant frequency to disrupt the Eternals' control of their atoms. So they disintegrated. But it just took them time to regain their senses.

Then they pulled themselves back together and kicked Blastaar's ass. There was no reason for the Avengers to even be here! The Eternals would have solved the problem eventually!

Hell, Blastaar blaasting apart the Eternals was a one-time thing. They apparently all adjusted their resonance frequency so he won't be able to stomp them again.

Okay, so what about Gilgamesh?

He was just away from Olympia too long. All the Eternals are bonded to their city but Gilgamesh spent so long in exile that he's bonded with Olympia so much that the city is life-sustaining for him.

Actually, I can't tell whether Gilgamesh was away from the city too long or that Olympia being dunked into the Negative Zone weakened him at the wrong moment and he got hurt in a way that he couldn't heal from without Olympia.

Eh, I guess it doesn't matter.

The take-away is that Gilgamesh is leaving the Avengers and eh. I can't say I'll miss him because the writer shake-ups meant that he never really got a personality or a niche on the team.

Like the Worst Roster, all I can say about Gilgamesh is that damn, he coulda been more.

Thena mentions that it's a pity Gilgamesh has to stay in Olympia.

Thena: "It pleased me to have a member of our race serving side by side with the noble Avengers. It bespoke a day when human and Eternal might stand as one, all ancient fears and jealousies gone forever." Captain America: "A day well worth hoping for, my lady. And perhaps, we should not too soon assume the link between our people has been broken. There are other Eternals. Others who might take the place of Gilgamesh in the ranks of the Avengers."

It's gonna be Sersi.

I don't know how long it's going to take but we're almost in the 90s so it's gonna be any time now.

Hurry up, Sersi.

Cap asks how Olympia wound up in the Negative Zone and, yeah, Sprite did it. He accidentally exploded the city into another dimension.

He apologizes as much as he cares to. The non-apology apology "it was never my intent to cause distress."

It doesn't matter. Thena fixes it with a single button press.

Blastaar gets taken away by the Warriors Three to go to Asgard jail. Thor declines returning to Asgard because he likes hanging out with Avengers on Midgard (Earth).

As the Warriors Three leave on their space chariot, Olympia fades out back to Earth. And the next time box teases big event Acts of Vengeance.

And I didn't care for this two-parter.

For all the many plans that Byrne seems to have for West Coast Avengers, he seems to be spinning his wheels in this book.

It really feels like this whole two-parter just accomplishes bringing Blastaar back (who cares) and immediately putting him in Limbo again (Asgardian jail).

That's a point B that didn't need to exist between his death that wasn't going to stick permanently and an actual good story that comes after this.

Olympia getting blown into Negative Zone space because Sprite touched a thing he shouldn't have touched, Blastaar conveniently being able to solo the Eternals, the Eternals able to come back and kick his ass without any input from the Avengers, sending Olympia back to Earth taking one button press... It all makes the story feel really pointless.

What changes if the Avengers had just gone to Olympia, it wasn't blown up, and Thena tells them what's wrong with Gilgamesh? Not a lot.

I don't like what Byrne is doing in West Coast Avengers but at least he seems to want to be there. How can you have no ideas already? You've only been writing six issues!

Maybe I'm just grumpy. My cursed future knowledge tells me that Avengers Island gets destroyed in Acts of Vengeance and that's more squandered potential. More writer shake-ups meant that the setting never really got a chance to shine.

Oh, well. Bomber jackets lie in the future. Bright hearts, clear eyes, something something.

Follow @essential-avengers for all these posts but in order and without other stuff. Like, reblog, comment, do stuff, I dunno. I get lonely down here in the italics.

#essential avengers #avengers #blastaar #captain america #thor #namor mckenzie #she hulk #warriors three #eternals #sersis #others #gilgamesh #stuff happens but it mostly doesn't matter #ho hum

5 notes · View notes

stony-ao3-feed · 2 years

Text

The Reality Stone

Read it on AO3

by TheDrow

“No, no, no, no, no!” Tony cried.

The MARK C blasters morphed, reshaping into a single blaster, every spare morsel of energy filtering into the propulsion system. Had he been trying to catch an escaping alien spaceship, he could have done laps around it, but he was too slow to catch the falling star. Far too slow.

“Steve!”

He reached out desperately, but his fingers grasped only horribly empty air. The white star struck the ground with a sickening crunch.

************

A short story involving the return of the Reality Stone (Post-EG), some fix-it, fluff, angst (mostly angst), and dealing with all the feelings that go with it.

Words: 15290, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Returning the Stones

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Skurge | The Executioner, Fandral (Marvel), Volstagg (Marvel), Sif (Marvel), Jane Foster (Marvel)

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Additional Tags: Reality Stone, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Compliant, Post-Endgame, Friendship/Love, References to Depression, Pining, Aether | Reality Stone | Reality Gem (Marvel), Angst, Fluff and Angst

Read it on AO3

#stony #fanfiction #ao3feed #superhusbands #stevetony

2 notes · View notes

ao3feed-janefoster · 2 years

Text

The Reality Stone

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/5pZC1sD

by TheDrow

“No, no, no, no, no!” Tony cried.

“Steve!”

He reached out desperately, but his fingers grasped only horribly empty air. The white star struck the ground with a sickening crunch.

************

A short story involving the return of the Reality Stone (Post-EG), some fix-it, fluff, angst (mostly angst), and dealing with all the feelings that go with it.

Words: 15290, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Returning the Stones

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Skurge | The Executioner, Fandral (Marvel), Volstagg (Marvel), Sif (Marvel), Jane Foster (Marvel)

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/5pZC1sD

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #jane foster

0 notes

ao3feed-stony · 2 years

Text

The Reality Stone

by TheDrow

“No, no, no, no, no!” Tony cried.

“Steve!”

He reached out desperately, but his fingers grasped only horribly empty air. The white star struck the ground with a sickening crunch.

************

A short story involving the return of the Reality Stone (Post-EG), some fix-it, fluff, angst (mostly angst), and dealing with all the feelings that go with it.

Words: 15290, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Returning the Stones

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Skurge | The Executioner, Fandral (Marvel), Volstagg (Marvel), Sif (Marvel), Jane Foster (Marvel)

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/44393119

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #iron man #captain america #fan fiction #ao3 stony feed #stony fan

1 note · View note

storiesofwildfire · 5 years

Text

Guilty of Treason

{ closed starter for @fandralxthexstabulous }

♔—- Things went better than Loki could have hoped. Ridding Asgard of Odin after the Elves invaded had been a surprisingly simple task. The attack on Asgard, losing Frigga, and losing all control over Thor ( he would never believe Odin loved him enough to be impacted by the news of his own death, so he didn’t even count that as a possibility ) in one vicious swoop knocked Odin into a state that even the almighty All-father didn’t seem capable of pulling himself out of. It was almost sad, really, how long Odin had managed to keep him on a relatively short leash, only for him to truly crumble when the going got rough.

Complacency. That’s the only way Loki could explain what happened to a once-great conqueror. He’d grown old and complacent in his rule over Yggdrasil. So many years passed without a single person challenging his power that he truly tricked himself into believing that there was no one who could.

Even Asgard’s defenses hadn’t been kept up to par over the thousand years of peace, making it easy for the Dark Elves to not only invade but destroy half the realm in their process.

Taking up the role of Odin was... less desirable. Loki had a plan in mind for how he could eventually shed the Odin disguise and take the throne as himself, but it would take some clever work on his part and some time to build up a positive mentality and memory of the second prince of Asgard. So many of them seemed to forget everything Loki had done that positively impacted Asgard because of a few incidents that... well, Loki could explain rationally, but did he truly want to? Especially when it came to discussions of Thanos?

But unveiling himself would have to wait. Asgard needed a strong leader to help rebuild, to reset defenses and ensure they were actually functional this time around, and ensure the citizens were not only moving forward but working towards being happy again. His children needed to be freed from Odin’s prisons. Preparations needed to be made in the event that Thanos became an immediate threat. Eventually, he would come, and Asgard would be Yggdrasil's best hope of beating back the Mad Titan. So much needed to be sorted out and, unfortunately, that meant wearing Odin’s face longer than he wished.

One problem that needed to be dealt with in the swiftest manner, however, was in regard to those who helped Thor commit treason. In all fairness, Loki did owe them, as their treachery was the tool that ultimately led to his being freed of the dungeon, but Odin could not easily overlook such a thing. Three times Sif and the Warriors Three committed treason in Thor’s name. Running off to Jotunheim to face Laufey after Thor’s failed coronation, the four of them running off to Midgard to bring Thor home from banishment, and now this...

Odin had been lenient with them the first two times, shifting the blame onto Thor and Loki respectively, but Odin was not known for allowing rule breakers to roam free. He liked to present himself as a fair and just king and he fooled most people into believing in that persona, but he had never been shy about holding criminals accountable. Sif and the Warriors Three’s earlier treason had also caused extreme trouble for Loki his first time around on the throne, so dealing with them in a constructive manner seemed an important task. But what to do with them?

In truth, there was an extremely petty part of him that wished to throw the lot in prison. Well, not all of them. Each held a different level of respect and like in Loki’s eyes and Sif was definitely at the bottom of said list. Hogun wasn’t much higher purely because any time Sif said anything negative about Loki or insinuated something to be his fault, Hogun was right alongside her, agreeing and ready to condemn him on nothing more than his natural dislike for the younger prince. Seeing those two locked up in Asgard’s dungeon, even temporarily, would have been so incredibly sweet. Petty, true, but enjoyable nonetheless.

Volstagg had Loki’s sympathies more than any of them. While Volstagg did occasionally tease Loki, he was never truly unkind or cruel. Volstagg had a big heart and a massive brood of children and Loki identified with that paternal nature. A powerful warrior but often unable to deny his friends, it was loyalty and blind faith more than anything that often led Volstagg to actions with horrible repercussions. Taking Volstagg away from his children was something Loki couldn’t really bring himself to do. He knew what it was to have children, to love them, and to watch as they were ripped away and kept from his reach. He didn’t wish that on anyone, especially not a genuinely good man such as him.

And then there was Fandral... and Loki’s feelings for Fandral were very complex. Deep-rooted longing for the swordsman’s affections sprouted when they first met and never truly faded, but there were certain decisions and events that pushed a wedge between them and turned some of those feelings down a bitter path.

In the end, Loki went easy on Volstagg. No prison, no banishment. Instead, he was confined to his family’s estate so he could be with his wife and children, but he was still seen as receiving punishment for going against the king’s orders again. The other three? Banishment seemed the easiest way to deal with them. As much as part of Loki wished to hide Sif and Hogun away in the dungeons, imprisoning them while letting Fandral and Volstagg off easy wouldn’t reflect well on the king, so instead, they were separated and banished to various realms under the same understanding of Thor’s banishment. If they could prove themselves worthy of it, they could return home.

Fandral, as it turned out, was sent to Midgard. Loki chose Midgard purposefully because he knew that Fandral had lived on Midgard before. He managed to establish something of a life for himself there, so surely, he could do so again. It was Loki’s way of silently being lenient with the swordsman without making that leniency obvious.

Weeks passed after Loki’s sentencing. Volstagg confined to his home and the rest of them spread across the realms. Loki didn’t think much about any of them, truly. He had far too much sitting right in front of him to pay mind to. Wasting time thinking about people who probably didn’t even think about him seemed like a foolish way to spend energy or trains of thought.

It wasn’t until Loki truly started going through Fritjolf’s reports and files thoroughly that Loki’s attention pulled back to a certain blond swordsman currently restricted to Midgard. It wasn’t obvious straight away. Most of Fritjolf’s agents used aliases and codenames while working, even on the reports that they delivered to the spymaster, in order to protect themselves. They wouldn’t be very good spies if they didn’t protect their true identities. That didn’t bother Loki as he read through the reports. The intel was all he cared about; it didn’t really matter who obtained it...

Soon enough, though, Loki did pick up on a pattern of one particular agent. Multiple codenames showed up numerous times, often named after wildlife, but Fox managed to capture Loki’s attention. It took quite a bit of digging through records and timelines, but after a while, matching up Fox’s reports to areas and times Loki knew Fandral to be in said areas unveiled itself flawlessly. Even Fox’s current reports all came from Midgard, in a similar area around modern-day England...

Could Fandral truly be a spy? That would explain so much about the way things transpired between them and why Fandral always seemed to keep part of himself hidden from public view. Loki always wondered why Fandral acted so differently when they were alone...

Against better judgment, Loki decided to pay Fandral an unexpected visit. Revealing the truth of what he’d done to Odin and why was risky, to say the least, and leaving Asgard unattended also wasn’t the brightest idea, but Loki left a clone of Odin to sit upon the throne and had enough people in his council that he trusted to keep Asgard going for a few days while he slipped away. Gods, he could use a break anyway, and if things didn’t go well with Fandral, he could at least go and visit his son. Seeing Jor would brighten his mood, surely.

But he took to backward means of travel, deciding for the sake of time to open a small portal between realms that would let him step through to some abandoned farmland in England, just to ensure no one saw the process of magic. From there, a tracking spell would do nicely to lead Loki straight to the banished warrior and apparent spy. He did little to hide aside from shifting his attire to something passable for modern-day Midgard. A pair of dark, form-fitted trousers, a simple belt with gold detailing around the clasp, a light sweater in a lovely shade of green, and a jacket. He didn’t need so many layers, but it was cool this time of year and walking around in anything less would gain him some pretty odd looks.

His spell directed him towards a rather impressive and clearly old estate. It’d been kept up over the years. Clearly, there were people that cared deeply for this land, but why would Fandral be in a place like this? What had he gotten up to during his time on Midgard? Aside from literally being the legend of Robin Hood, that was?

‘Fandral?’ A simple spell that would deliver a message to a single person in the way of words forming in the air before them and then fading. Fandral used it to contact him a few times. ‘I’m outside your... home? But you probably already knew that if you were paying attention. Would you come and meet with me, please?’

He didn’t bother stating who he was. Asgard might have believed Loki was dead, but Fandral should have been familiar enough with his magic to know who was reaching out to him now.

#fandralxthexstabulous #c; fandral #( thread ) guilty of treason #( main verse ; post tdw ) you've ruined everything #( long response ) if it were easy everyone would do it #{ uhhh??? have a fucking novel I guess XD Didn't mean to let this get so far away from me #but #loki had a lot to say on how much he wanted to punish Thor's friends apparently }

30 notes · View notes

haseti · 5 years

Text

@storiesofwildfire You didn’t ask for it but too bad

﹝⚘﹞—;

It had been about a week and half since Odin had decided his actions of disobedience needed to be made an example of. He knew it was because the Allfather saw the way he looked at Heimdall’s son. He felt as if the other knew it was the looks of adoration and love. Which were both true. He was falling for the cute little smith. He didn’t expect it to happen either. He’d seen him in the training grounds for months. A scrappy little thing who didn’t know when to give up. He rather found that endearing. With Fandral as his commanding officer it was hard to not look when Thor himself was training the young boy. Though they weren’t that drastically different in age. A few years at most but because of the others growth Hiccup looked like a child compared to him.

But that goofy face of his had him staying up late hours. It was that same face he saw front and center when Odin pressed that hot metal prod onto his chest. Right over his heart. Having him held down as he screamed and bled in the middle of the circle of Asgardians. The shame he saw on his own father’s face sunk. But he saw Hiccup’s first..the smith looking horrified. He couldn’t even look at him longer than a few moments before he ducked his face into the cobbled ground in shame.

How could he love him now?

He was marked like cattle and it made matters worse. As he healed his bed was beside the window that overlooked the marketplace. Right where Hiccup worked in the forge. He felt his heart tinge and pull as he watched him. He wanted to be with him. Watching him work like he always did. Chatting with him..but he wasn’t worthy of that now as fingers press into the bandages that covered his chest. Amber eyes were pulled away from the sight of the one he had fallen for to the sight of his captain approaching his bed. He was honestly surprised.

“Captain...” His voice didn’t sounds as enthusiastic as it usually did. He’d been sentenced to this bed until the brand was healed. He didn’t want to be scolded as he looked away for a moment. Looking at his hands sitting in his lap. “I couldn’t do it...an innocent child...how could I?” Maybe Fandral was disappointed because he had shown promise to make it far as a warrior? But then again maybe he found it endearing he had disobeyed. He was a warrior. He was supposed to make choices like this.

“I-I’m sorry...I must be a disappointment to you.”

#drengjar #storiesofwildfire #ic #c; fandral #v; warrior of heart #interactions

2 notes · View notes

lokisgoodgirl · 2 months

Text

Illusion & Truth: The Rite (V)

Masterlist for The Rite is HERE My Regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: (5) Loki does some soul searching, he lets you into a secret, and shit goes down at the pre-Rite feast. (w/c 5.4k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Language. Plot, shocker. Asgardians behaving badly. Sick child (not serious). Petty bitch behaviour. Lagertha being an MVP. A/N: This is the longest chapter of the mini-series. Please bear with me. You'll see why.🥰 lies.

Loki hadn’t left his chambers for the rest of the afternoon. That woman from the Circle-Club: Freja, Mellandra…something like that, had come by seeking to ‘soothe’ what ailed him.

Self-serving, of course.

But thoughts swirled in his head that not even Freja/Mellandra’s silken heat sheathing his sword could quieten. And with that realisation, Loki had another one about you which settled in his stomach like a stone.

I don’t want anyone else. No one but her.

Somehow, you needed to fall in love with him in two moons – three if he counted the night of The Rite itself. Or at least, the stirrings of love which went beyond simple lust or pure reverence. If you knew that...it would push you away. Why wouldn't it? Asgardian royals had stacked the decks for millennia; beginning courtships of likely matches for marriage from a young age – and the Rite was a foregone conclusion: part of the wheel. It was too important, and there were no second chances.

But you fucked it up. If he didn’t fulfil the Rite, then he’d be forever out of the succession. And if he did succeed, and you fell in love with him, he’d have to break your heart as swiftly as he’d cheated his way to it. Loki couldn’t love – not like the others. He’d accepted that a long time ago - he'd been told many times.

He brought a hand cleanly against a goblet on the desk and sent it crashing to the wall. Thick cracks spread from the impact. He buried his face in his palms, stifling a scream. Perhaps his brother was right; perhaps Fandral was the better choice after all. There was no hope for your feelings to blossom given the boorish, wanton way he’d conducted himself. The Circle-Club, Norns. What must she think.

The door creaked open. “More wine, my Prince?” the chambermaid said. She was wearing the low-cut robes tonight, holding the flask beneath the curve of her breasts. She looked up at him through lined lashes, a dark eyebrow rising. She didn’t seem concerned at his distress – not one bit. Just wanted to ride him or suck him off or let him bend her over the balcony: not that he could blame her. “No,” he said abruptly. Once she’d left, he was sure the serving groom wouldn’t be far behind – offering his services. They had a system, he was certain of it. If one was declined, they knew Loki was in the mood for the other. His eyes wandered out the open archway. Daytime bustling of the courtyard below sounded loud to his ears. Suddenly the jug appeared in front of him, tapping onto the table while the tart, sweet scent of wine filled his nostrils. Her hands wound around his neck; breasts pressed between his shoulder blades; her breath hot in his ear.

“Are you sure, my Prince?” she whispered, sucking his earlobe between her teeth. “I’ve missed your highness’s touch, it’s been over a week.” Loki closed his eyes, trying to smother the revulsion at himself. The drinking, the endless sex, the aloofness: that nothing mattered. Perhaps he wanted it to matter – did anyone ever think of that? Even endless pleasure, Loki was finding, grew tiresome when flitting from one instant gratification to the next.

“No…thank you,” he said softly; holding up the flask. She said nothing else, just blinked a few times as he nudged the smooth metal into her hands. She threw concerned glances over her shoulder every few steps as she left, closing the door behind her. Loki slumped into the chair; trying to remember how people who didn’t drink wine and fuck all afternoon passed the time.

And so, until sunrise, he decided to do what he’d avoided for far too long: think.

Loki pulled at his sleeves.

The inferior material so favoured by the common-folk was starting to itch. He lingered on the outskirts of the palace gardens, scanning for you. And soon, there you were – led by Håkon. He was a little shit, but Loki liked him – and he showed promise as an apprentice; a rarity, considering his beginnings. Loki smiled. The face he wore didn’t hold that type of smile so agreeably as his own, but it would do. Håkon nudged you to his level, and Loki saw your eyes widen before meeting his own across the path.

You walked briskly towards him, eyes darting to passers-by. “Loki?!” you hissed. Loki’s smile grew. “The very same, little owl. Does my disguise not please you?” You made a face, and Loki snorted lightly, the rough knuckles that met his lips stifling it. To anyone that looked on him, he was a roughened, reddened stable-hand ilk: the type would garner no second looks except that of the guards searching for escaped jailbirds.

“It’s necessary, I assure you. Even this early in the morning, the markets are busy. I’d rather not attract any unwanted attention.” “I didn’t think it was possible for any attention you received to be unwanted...” Loki’s eyes narrowed. The subsequent smile lit your eyes in the same when it did when you looked on his own face: like the strike of a match. It made his stomach flip. You were wearing a beautiful green day-gown – the same shade as the calla lily growing by the pond.

“I had intended for us to walk around the gardens but…plans have changed. I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “Håkon’s coming too. Although…I fear you may be rather overdressed.” Your face fell. “Håkon’s coming?” “He’s not so bad,” Loki said as the boy wove ahead through the crowd, stealing small pieces of cake from the morning stalls. “Perhaps you may grow to like him.” You cleared your throat, and Loki felt his skin prickle with the words unsaid. He could feel them on the air before your tongue formed them. The obvious question most were too afraid to ask. “Is he your son?” There was no judgement in the question, only curiosity. It was, Loki surmised, a reasonable assumption with the boy’s dark hair and playful tricks – indeed, he often wished the answer was yes. But he replied, “No, merely my apprentice. No illusions, not this time. Upon my honour, such as it is.”

Loki’s fingers flexed by his side, and a rough, woollen cloak unfurled covertly in his grasp. He held it in a bundle towards you. “As beautiful as that gown is,” he said in his gruff, stolen voice, “Best not to attract attention where we’re going.”

“Don’t you want to change my face, too?” you said, and the sparkling mischief in your eyes made blood thud in his ears. “No,” he said, perhaps a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t deny myself, and the people of Asgard, even the shortest glimpse of your skin under this morning light.” You stared at him for a moment before gasping into laughter. Loki frowned. “I’m not laughing at you, Loki…I just…” Your breaths were becoming short, and people were staring. You leant against his shoulder, burying your face against the rough scratch of his grubby tunic. “It’s only…well, they have to see me with you. I can only guess what they’re thinking. I still have a reputation to uphold, you know.” A laugh built in Loki’s chest, shaking in time with your own. You pulled away from his shoulder, smoothing a wiry chunk of crusted, mousy-brown hair behind his ear. “Alright,” he said bashfully. “I didn’t think of that. How about…I change your appearance too – but alter it so that we can see each other for our true selves?” You grinned. “Deal.” Loki could tell the exact moment that the enchantment licked over his skin by the edge of your bottom lip between your teeth. Norns, how he wanted to rip that dress to shreds with his teeth and have you inside the topiary maze.

Beneath the magical mask of rough, woollen clothing – he was wearing casual livery; a green tunic buttoned up to the neck, and tight-fitting buckskin breeches tucked into riding boots. Freshly washed hair tumbled over his shoulders. He could see you, and you could see him – and to anyone else, you were just two, ragged, happy peasants and their thief of an offspring.

Loki’s breath hitched as you reached out a hand. “So…where are we going?” He led you through the market, down side-passages that spread like veins from the centre of Asgard’s township and soon the buildings grew less polished…less gold.

Amber brickwork shifted to craggy, dirt-smoked stone and Loki couldn’t help noticing your face grow more cautious with every step. Eventually, he stopped outside a large wooden door cut into a tall building. Håkon knocked. After a minute, the gap creaked open. “Lagertha?!” you gasped, neck snapping to Loki. Her eyes narrowed. “What says the fox to the crow?” she asked warily, keen gaze shifting between you. Loki rolled his eyes. He could never remember the inane answers to such riddles, no matter how many times she told him. “43, 33, 36,” he said. Lagertha frowned. “What?” He repeated his measurements, and her eyes widened. “Loki?!” she hissed, sticking her head out and casting a furtive look to either side of the empty alley.

She shot out a dainty fist and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him inside. Loki grasped your hand, yanking you after him. The door slammed. Loki crouched to receive her hug; he was always surprised how strong she was. “I didn’t think you’d come, what with the late notice…I didn’t think—” She stopped herself, pulling back and shooting a piercing glare in your direction. “Who’s this?”

“Ah,” Loki said. Before he could say anything else, Lagertha wafted theatrically in front of her nose.

“Borr’s bones, Loki. Lower the glamour, will you? I understand the need for secrecy, but is there any need for the smell?” Loki’s lips rolled together, biting his tongue. Behind him, Håkon laughed. With a flex of his fingers the enchantment burned away to reveal his true form, and yours too. Lagertha’s face softened. “My dear…” she said sweetly, as though she hadn’t been moments away from poking you in the eye. “So nice to see the two of you spending time together. He must trust you, if he brought you here.” You opened your mouth to ask inevitable questions but Loki placed a hand on Lagertha’s back. “Show me. From your note, it seems we have no time to waste.”

Lagertha led him to the open courtyard in the middle of the building. From the outside, it resembled the same crumbling wreck as all the buildings in this district – but inside, it was a palace: all curved edges and bright, warm colours. Cushions littered the floor, a pond in the centre and a fountain spurting shapes with changed on the hour. The lilt of childish laughter twinkled in the air – but then, he saw her. A girl no older than two lay cradled in the arms of a nurse in the corner. Her skin was flushed and splotchy: the areas not afflicted had the pallor of rotted milk. Loki had seen her several times before – and several times he’d wished she would alter her screeches of happiness at a change in the breeze or the spray of the fountain to a decibel lower. But now, the absence of that joyful screech was torturous. He came skidding to a stop, falling to his knees on the cushions. “You should have summoned me sooner,” he said, pressing the back of his hand to the girl’s forehead. She was hot with the scorch of impending death. Lagertha sank to her knees beside him. “You know the rules– only in the direst of circumstances.” “May I?” he asked the nurse, and she shifted. He held the child, her head lolled in his arms, eyelids fluttering. He could see your profile out of the corner of his eye – and for a moment, he regretted ever considering bringing you to this place.

Nothing says romance like the demise of an infant, he scolded himself. He hadn’t thought it would be this bad. But you touched his back, a comforting trail of your fingers down his spine.

Loki pressed a hand to the small chest, closing his eyes. A swell of magic pulsed through his skin; green licking out from his palm. The baby’s eyes shot open in shock, a strangled cry of surprise tearing around the cloisters. Loki held the squirming child steady, palm flush to her skin. Hold on, he willed. Hold on.

Slowly, too slowly, the angry splotches receded. Plumpness began to puff back into her cheeks, and the child’s eyes opened – glossy and bright with sleepy wonder. “Thank the gods,” the nurse breathed, and Lagertha clapped her hands together. “Not the gods,” Lagertha said dryly, “just this one. He’s the only one worth having.” Relief swelled in Loki’s chest as he passed the child to the nurse. “Careful, Lagertha – I’ll have you for treason.” “Not if I have you first,” she replied wryly. They exchanged a knowing smile.

Loki’s nerves didn’t settle until they’d draped into the chairs by the water’s edge. Someone brought tea, and he tried to pour it before realising his fingers were trembling. You took the pot, pouring a cup for Loki, Lagertha, and yourself. “Thank you,” he murmured, and the smile that danced on your lips was like none he’d ever seen before. He looked away quickly, and then heard you ask… “What is this place?”

Lagertha snorted. “An orphanage, of sorts. I help when I can, in between the weaving – and Loki manages to come once a month or so to keep things in check – keep things nice for the children, make sure the pantry is stocked with the meats he smuggles from the palace, bless him.” Loki felt heat creep up his cheeks as she reached across the table, nobbled fingers wrapping around his wrist.

It's now or never, he thought. But in his heart, he knew you had to know. That you could be trusted. He could feel it. “If my father knew it existed…especially under my patronage - he would shut it down, turn them out.” Tea slopped over the side of your cup. “What?!” “He grows suspicious – and there are spies everywhere. Fandral, for instance.” Loki bit back the spit of his name. “If it's discovered before I am confirmed in the line of succession, then I won’t have as much say in what's done if it’s exposed.” “Why would Odin want this taken away?”

Loki’s heart sank as your eyes landed on each small, plump child in turn, older ones around Håkon’s age peering around pillars. There was a dozen spread across the courtyard, and more upstairs in bed. Many, many more. Two girls splashed in the centre of the garden pool, un-phased by their illustrious visitor. He saw the exact moment your keen mind landed on the right question. “Who are they?” you asked quietly. “Bastard sons and daughters of the gods, and of the court. The unwanted; the shame of Asgardian wealth and lust, and selfishness,” Loki heard himself say. Lagertha squeezed his hand. He met her eyes, unspoken words passing between them. She was asking permission, and he granted it. She cleared her throat. “The high and mighty in the palace like to smear this one because he lays it about, no offence intended m’Lord—” “—None taken,” Loki said with a small smile. “—But Loki here, he enjoys his pleasure with people he can take care of, should it be needed. I mean yes, he has the contraceptive magic and all that…but he doesn’t take advantage, not like the others. They pretend goose-fat wouldn’t melt: playing pure and then heading to the taverns and brothels, leaving their seed behind in the bellies of women who have no choice but to give ‘em to us when the lords’ pretend they don’t exist.” Loki couldn’t look at you. He stared at a ripple in the pool, following its progress until it faded to stillness. Suddenly, your hand was at his cheek; your lips pressing to his in a silent, soft understanding. He met your eyes.

“I know what it is to be unwanted,” he admitted – and with horror, he realised his vision was beginning to blur. “I couldn’t let that happen to them.” “He says next year, I’ll have a friend at the palace,” Håkon interrupted cheerfully from across the courtyard, looking up from a plate of sliced cheese. He shot Loki a glare. “Not a girl through,” he added – and beside him, a girl with long blonde hair suspiciously like Thor’s punched him in the arm. “Ow.” Loki smiled. “I can’t add my apprentices too quickly, you understand. One a year usually suffices to evade suspicion – and then afterwards, they travel to Vanaheim to continue their education. But Håkon is staying a little longer…” His eyebrows rose in the boy’s direction, “If he behaves himself.”

Loki met your eyes. There was that look again, the one that made him feel like a nervous virgin and a king at the same time. He straightened as your fingers clasped around his thigh beneath the table. It wasn’t a gesture of lust, he was sure – but his groin ached just the same. “We should go,” he said, and your face fell. Around them, childish wails of discontent grew loud and soon small hands were pawing at his legs - little bodies jostling for a place on his lap and wrapping their chubby arms about his neck. Your laughter was music above the fray. “We should stay,” you said sternly over the excitement – and Loki grinned through a veil of small limbs and wide smiles. “They’ve clearly missed you.” “You don’t mind?” His heart fizzed as you rested a fist beneath your chin. “Not a bit,” you said, as a boy with auburn ringlets crawled onto your knees, smudging the green silk with butter-greased fingers. And what’s more, Loki realised as you greeted the boy with a hug, she means it.

When you returned to your chambers, the sun was beginning to set.

The most beautiful dress you’d ever seen in your entire life was hanging against the window: shimmering in amber hues slatting across the floor. A deep, rich green: silk that rippled with sparks of gold. A note was pinned to the lapel. ‘Make him erupt in his britches again,’ it said. You snorted. It was signed with a looping, cursive L – and a kiss. You weren’t sure how Lagertha had managed to ensure its delivery between hobbling after three dozen squealing children for nine hours alongside you – but you appreciated it none the less. The fact Loki had told her about events in the orgy-room yesterday made an unexpected warmth blossom in your belly. It was becoming harder not to get attached.

You’d tried not to think too much about tonight: the feast. It made it all a bit…real. A celebration of Loki’s attempt at The Rite – and a celebration of his chosen partner: aka, a chance for the court to get a good look at you.

You sighed, looking in the mirror. I can do this, you thought. For Loki. You frowned. The idea that you’d be doing it for him was new – and the thought seemed to expand inside your skull like dandelion seeds blossoming on a stalk. For Loki. And then, another thought. You’d meant to raise it this morning, but the day’s events had been…distracting. What the fuck was the second part? The one that had him more nervous than he had any right to be? He couldn’t doubt his skills in oral pleasure, surely. He’d only have to look between your legs and you’d explode. It had to be something else: something important. You tried to push it aside as your giggling maid helped you into the dress and fixed your hair. It wasn’t as elaborate as the royals, but it would do. And besides, you weren’t one of them. And you never will be.

When the final clasp was added to your hair, there was a knock at the door. Just one. The maid answered, and from the pitch in her voice you could tell she was flustered. Loki had said he’d meet you outside the feasting hall – Is he here? Your stomach fluttered as you scurried to the entranceway, and immediately grimaced. “Fandral?” He looked up from where one forearm was pressed against the archway, looming over your maid like a lech. If Loki did that, it would be unbearably hot – but Fandral had a way of making even the most potentially erotic poses illicit the same response as hot sick. “The very same,” he drawled, straightening a ruffled cuff. “Loki sent me to fetch you, since we’re all to be such great friends.” “He did?”

“Mmm,” Fandral said. It wasn’t an answer, but you were running late. Maybe he’ll throw me down a well, you thought as you gingerly took his arm and began walking in silence down the corridor. If he tries, I’ll drag him by the balls down with me.

Fandral’s tunic was made of the softest velvet you’d ever felt: a bright, cerulean blue. His fingers clasped over your hand wrapped around his forearm as you walked. “How curious,” he hummed, and your expression hardened, staring ahead for what was coming. “Such soft hands, despite your status. I’ve heard buckling ones own shoes is a terror for callouses.” “You must give me some tips - I’d hate to scratch Loki’s intimate areas with my nasty, commoner callouses.” Fandral yanked you to a stop. There was a flash in his eyes. “Do not call yourself a commoner. It’s an insult to the Prince – as though he would lie with a peasant. You are the lowest rung in the court, and he’s too good for you…but you’re not so low as to be unable to debase yourself further.” “From what I hear, others aren’t so picky as you are,” you muttered, pulling your arm from his grasp, remembering the sweet faces of the children nobody wanted. The shame of the Asgardian court. One of Fandral’s slicked eyebrows rose. “And what does that mean?” Shit. He’s a fucking spy - you’re going to blow the secret, and you’ve only known for a day. You improvised, cracking your neck to the side and painting on a mask of apathy. “You’re arrogant, anyone ever tell you that?” Fandral sneered, the illusion of his upper hand returning. “Consider your proclivity towards our Prince, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes, thankful that the chatter of nobles filing into the feasting hall was growing louder. Looked like there was only one more turn—

“He’s trying to make you fall in love with him.” You stopped, blinking furiously; the crowd visible at the end of the corridor blurring. “Excuse me?”

But before Fandral could respond, a shadow fell over you both. The sight was like smelling salts. Norns, he’d never looked so handsome. Loki’s dark hair was half drawn up to expose the sharp lines of his face; a golden band resting on his head with thin spires like spun, violent sunlight pointed to the ceiling.

His outfit matched your own perfectly: a thick brocade tunic with delicate buckles running up his midsection; green and gold woven with breath-taking perfection. The tunic fell to his mid-thighs, leather trousers tucked into thin boots the same forest green as your dress. His hand slid around your waist, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. Out of the corner of your eye, Fandral grimaced.

“You look…beautiful,” Loki breathed against your ear, his scent richly spiced, and for a moment it stifled the guilt clawing in your chest. He drew back, shooting Fandral a withering glare. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” As Fandral gave you a last, salty look – Loki’s eyes fell on you again. “Just one more thing,” he said softly, flexing his fingers. A weight grew on your head in time with Loki’s smile; the same crown of sun rays growing towards the ceiling, matching his own. “Tonight is for you,” he said, offering his arm.

“For us,” you replied, hoping it was true.

The first few hours of the feast passed in a blur.

You’d never forget the feeling as you walked arm-in-arm with Prince Loki down the centre of the hall feeling like a queen: nobles cheering, Fandral looking like he had a wedgie, Frigga smiling widely, and Thor…although not quite as much. Odin’s face was like a pruned apple, but what else was new.

Don’t get attached, you reminded yourself again. But it was becoming harder.

You sat beside Loki at the top table, chatting easily as the two of you tucked into honey-glazed boar, potatoes baked in cream, vegetables soaked in the most delicious spices you’d ever tasted.

Every so often, a noble would shuffle in front of you both with a small bow, offering their good luck wishes to the god beside you. “Not required, but appreciated,” Loki said every time. And every time, you stifled a laugh. More than once, you caught Frigga gazing at you out of the corner of your eye. But when your eyes met, hers darted away. That small smile hadn’t left her lips all night.

Loki stood. “It’s far too dull for this time in the evening, time for some dancing…don’t you think?” Thor perked up two seats down from you, his eyes alight and a sticky ring of honey smeared around his mouth, dripping down his chin. “Dancing! Yes, brother.”

Loki smoothed the front of his tunic, waiting for a adequate number of revellers to admire his outfit, before making his way to the band assembling in the corner. You recognised the lute player from yesterday’s orgy – the blindfolded one. Loki’s seat was immediately taken by Fandral, and you rolled your eyes. “What do you want?” you snapped. “The second part of The Rite – I assume he still hasn’t told you.”

Fandral released a whispering chuckle that made your stomach tighten. He hovered by your ear with a smile stretched on his rattish face, golden glitter from his hair falling to the tablecloth. To anyone watching, it might look like he was telling a joke, but there was no humour in his voice.

“He has to make you cum with that pretty mouth of his, yes. But your feelings towards him as he does it will be measured: not lust, or respect as your better…but the deeper sort. It will be impossible to hide it. If you do love him, then afterwards, he’ll discard you like the commoner you imagine yourself to be. And if you don't, which is more likely...let's be honest, you’ll have cost him his place in the succession.” Fandral withdrew, a dazzlingly artificial smile plastered on his face. You opened your mouth and closed it again, heartbeat hard in your throat. “It breaks my heart to see him play you,” he sighed, playing with Loki’s fork. “Just as he will break yours…but alas, it’s how it must be. I expect he’s lavished you with his attention these past days, let you see…allegedly…another side of him?”

“You’re just jealous,” you blurted. It was childish, and frantic.

His eyes narrowed. “It’s no secret I have feelings for the Prince which go beyond mere frippery – I make no waves against it. Loki is magnificent in many ways, but he’s always been a fool. And you will make a fool of him too, when it’s clear you don’t love him; when he is shamed, his status diminished - left forever in his brother’s shadow.”

Your vision swam. “But…why would he…why would he choose me, then? It’s too important, I…” Those plump, hopeful kid’s faces flashed in front of your eyes again. The way he sang to them, and made baby animals burst in living shadows from his fingertips to prance across the courtyard amidst their shrieks of delight. They were in danger. Loki had to secure his place in the succession. This wasn’t about you, not really.

“Fandral,” you said, searching his face, not knowing what you wanted him to say. “Just enjoy yourself tonight.” Fandal smiled, giving a small wave to someone across the room. “I’m sure Loki will come to his senses before the ceremony.” Time seemed to stop as Loki drew you on to the dancefloor, and soon the centre of the hall was a shifting sea of graceful bodies and swirling silk. You’d never wanted anything more than to attend one of these things – you weren’t going to let Fandral ruin it.

Loki’s body was like steel, but he moved like fluid - a liquid grace which twirled and manoeuvred you easily across the floor. His cheek pressed to yours, lips grazing your skin at achingly slow intervals. You wondered if he knew he was doing it. And yet— ‘It breaks my heart to see him play you; just as he will break yours.’ Your hand faltered from Loki’s hold, fumbling the step.

He drew you closer, eyes clouded with concern. The lutes seem very loud all of a sudden. “Loki…” you started. You needed to know – and he needed to choose. There was much at stake, and you didn’t know if you could give him what he needed to come out The Rite with his place in the succession intact.

“May I?” Fandral’s voice shattered the moment.

He was the picture of gentile chivalry, a hand extended with a reverent bow. Loki looked at you, and you suddenly realised the only thing you wanted was more time before the illusion that this could all be real shattered forever.

As your hand left Loki’s, reaching for Fandral’s – you saw the creep of a cruel smirk, and a white glisten on Fandral’s fingers too late. Your breath caught as he lunged. And then, all hel broke loose.

Loki’s body was a wall of muscle ramming between the two of you, smacking Fandral’s arm to the side.

You stumbled backwards, falling into Frigga dancing with some lord from Vanaheim. Grapes went skittering across the floor from the knock-on-carnage; goblets cracking against marble and shrieks as priceless suede shoes were splashed.

Loki was gripping Fandral’s wrist as the blonde looked up wide-eyed, words shaping his lips that came out in a mess of denials and apologies. Between the nonsensical muttering, you heard two words from Fandral’s lips: ‘Thor…whorehouse.’ Loki’s eyes narrowed, and then he punched Fandral in the face. The sharp crack of his nose breaking split the air. “Loki,” Odin boomed, shuffling in front of the long table at the head of the hall. “The Rite feast is no occasion for your brutish theatrics.” Loki’s fingers tightened around Fandral’s wrist and a pathetic squeal snaked from his throat. “He tried to sabotage my partner,” Loki growled through gritted teeth. He sent Fandral sprawling to the floor. “See? He bears the seed of a god on his hand – you know the rules better than any, father. It would render her ineligible to take part. Bartered with a lady of the night in Asgard’s township from one of her patrons, no doubt.”

Your stomach dropped as gasps rose around the hall; whispers of a hundred conversations turning to a roar. “Silence,” Odin shouted. The guests obeyed. “Is this true?” he directed at a cowering Fandral. “Surely no god would involve themselves with such a person, such an act.” Your eyes swung to Loki. You’d never seen him angry. And dark irons…it was hot.

His fists clenched and unclenched by his sides; a muscle in his jaw feathering with every strong beat of the pulse in his neck. A wave of pride, and desire, and…something else, swelled in your stomach. The gold-spired crown on his head glittered beneath candlelight, dark curls spilling over brocaded shoulders like ink. “I assure you, father – it is true.”

And Odin knows it…bastard, you thought as Loki turned, brows heavy as he stared his father down. “Order him from my sight, or I cannot be responsible for what comes next.” And for once, Odin complied.

You couldn’t hear Fandral’s protestations of innocence, or the clatter of guards. All you could hear were Loki’s heavy breaths as he pulled you after him down a side corridor and into the open air of the balcony. All you could feel was the press of his body to yours as your back hit the wall; the pressure of his ravenous kiss; the need of his sighs and broken apologies into your open mouth.

His palms cupped your cheeks, lips slotting so perfectly against yours and the weight of his chest flush to your body like he thought you might vanish.

You pressed a palm to his chest, pushing him back. Deja-vu of the first night you entered Loki’s world flashed in front of your eyes: a kiss on a balcony, a promise made with hidden intentions– but it was nothing like this.

There was something different swimming in his sapphire eyes: more than lust, or duty…or tricks. It would’ve been a foregone conclusion that Loki would be successful in achieving The Rite with Fandral. He could bring that golden turd pleasure like he’d never known; show the Norns he could win the love of the people who worshipped him…but that option was dead now. Not that you’d wanted it for him in the first place.

Could that look in Loki’s eyes be faked? The one that smouldered with embers of cities he’d burn for you; of how inexplicably far he’d go to keep you as his partner in this farce even though the odds were stacked against him. He’d known they were all along. “Loki…” you whispered, and he wet his lips, biting the bottom one softly as his gaze fell. I could love him, you realised. Eyes wide open; knowing that this might be all it ever was, and even if he would never feel the same – I could love him. With the little time that was left, you only hoped it would be enough.

Tags in comments ❤️as always I lovvvvve hearing your thoughts! Thank you so much if you're here!

Chapter Six: Consequences

#the rite🕯️#loki x reader #loki smut #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x you #loki imagine #loki odinson #loki (marvel)#loki x female reader #loki x yn #loki x y/n

539 notes · View notes

braveclementine · 22 days

Text

Dates and Depression

Warnings: 18+readersonly, mentions of smut/sex, angst

Penny's date with Steve, Bucky, and Sam was not the only date that she ended up going on in the short time between the spy being found and Christmas.

Steve, Bucky, and Sam took her to a gorgeous café restaurant. They stayed for almost two hours, before going through a strip mall that was putting up early Christmas decorations. Then they came home and went to bed together in hot, steamy sex.

Natasha had been next to ask her on a date, but a few days before the actual date, she went into labor. It was a difficult one and Penny and Vision were very worried about her. They were also the only ones who were allowed to stay by her side.

Natasha's body was not meant to be having children and it was only doing so because of magic. They ended up giving her a c-section, which meant a long time for recovery so they pushed the date backwards.

Natasha and Visions' little girl was absolutely adorable. She had Natasha's flaming red hair, but had Visions eyes. Well, his human form eyes at the very least. She was named Anastasia Yelena Romanoff.

Then Rhodey, who made good on his promise on giving her a wonderful date. They went to the movies which was doing old reruns and they watched The Wizard of Oz in the theaters. It was packed full of people who wanted to see the movie in the theaters for the first time. Since it was a cheap movie, they simply sold tickets and people sat in the aisles or on the stairs, anywhere there was space.

The chairs were comfy though and Rhodey sat down, before pulling her in his lap and they cuddled the entire time. It was a movie experience that Penny had never been in before. People singing along to songs and cheering and yelling.

Rhodey took her a restaurant afterwards where they just got dessert to split and share, cuddled up together on one side of the booth. Rhodey was even cheesy enough to feed her off of his spoon, but she loved it. Especially when she got to tease him, licking his finger as she did so and he turned red under his dark cheeks.

When they got home, they went up to his room and spent the night together with almost no sleep, but a lot of satisfaction regardless.

Loki took her up to Asgard for his one-on-one date. They strolled through the open markets while the normal citizens looked at Loki in awe and Penny in curiosity. Loki watched Penny and whatever she squealed over as beautiful or cute, he would either buy or sometimes haggle for.

Penny would have scolded him for haggling, but realized that he haggled in normal things from Midgard, like Tony's tools, or Midgardian books.

Loki explained as they walked, eating some sort of Asgardian dessert made of fruit and icing in a cone. "The people of Asgard long for things from Midgard. Odin may have lifted his rule of being in relationships with soulmates from Midgard and other realms, but there are still things that Midgardians have made that aren't allowed on Asgard."

"Won't they get in trouble then?" Penny asked anxiously, looking over at two little girls that Loki had given barbie dolls to. They looked so happy to have them as well, running off with them into their house.

"No." Loki said. "Odin is aware that we are visiting the markets. He will know that the Midgardian things came from us. Heimdall will also make sure that none of them suffer or are punished."

With that comfort, Penny was able to relax more and even haggled some of her own possessions, which was actually quite fun.

They did go back up to the castle for dinner, where she was able to see Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, and Sif again and the six of them ate together and talked.

"Heimdall is miserable." Fandral complained. "He needs a good fuck."

Hogun chuckled but Sif rolled her eyes.

"Yes, well, let him be a dumbass." Loki replied dryly.

Fandral gasped in mock shock. "My word. The prince has used foul language!"

Penny started to giggle while Loki glared daggers at Fandral.

"Fair lady, come away from the uncouth man." Fandral declared and Penny giggled harder. Sif even cracked a smile while both Volstagg and Hogun laughed loudly.

"I hope you don't value your hands Fandral." Loki said in a bored tone. "You're very close to losing them."

Despite the bantering, that was the date where Penny ended up in Fandrals' room on Asgard in an orgy with the rest of them, Loki orchestrating most of what everyone did. It was definitely a turn on, watching all of these mighty warriors listen and follow Lokis' orders. Especially when it was for giving her pleasure.

She had a variety of other dates with Tony and Stephen, then Violetta, then Clint and Bruce did a double date with her and Natasha, the four of them together as a square date. Pietro did one and then Wanda and Vision together.

Elijah took her on a date after he was sure that Elizabeth was stable on her feet. The ice superhero had taken to being very secluded afterwards. Penny didn't blame her in the slightest, nor did she blame Elijah for putting all of his focus on her.

She also became a little surprised when repeat people came back for dates and soon she was going on dates three or four times a week.

She realized soon that a lot of their time had been sex and worrying about the spies and keeping each other safe. Now that the spy and the enemy was dead, there was time for relaxation and there was time for things like this. Going out without an entire crowd. Private dates, small things. Really getting to know each other.

She definitely felt much more prepared as they started going into the Christmas season and they had to start looking for presents for each other. They went to the same mall that they had gone the first round.

Penny found her presents much quicker this year, including presents for Bucky and Steve through what she had learned about them during the dates.

They slowly started to regroup after an hour or two. She saw that Violetta and Katya were in line for Auntie Annes. Natasha and Wanda were just coming out of Dillards', a baby carrier in Natasha's hands with the cover pulled down so her baby was protected from sight. She refused to let the child out of her sight, no matter what.

Penny herself had Chamber with her, mostly because it was his first Christmas and she wanted to show the mall around to him, even if he wouldn't remember it in years to come.

She found Elizabeth in another shop, with a few presents, but definitely not enough for everyone. She looked overwhelmed and Penny immediately felt guilty for leaving her by herself.

"Hey, you doing okay?"

"Yeah. I wrote a list, I just don't know what stores hold which items." Elizabeth said, fingers fumbling as she pulled out a neatly written down list. She had crossed off for people she had the presents for. Penny also couldn't help but notice that Steve and Bucky's spaces were empty.

"What do you get Steve and Bucky?" Elizabeth asked desperately.

Penny found the irony humorous. Last year she was standing here asking Elizabeth what to get Steve and Bucky. Now the circumstances had been flipped.

"Well, you usually get them something from their time period. Like last year you got them records- which are like song discs. You could probably ask Viden if there's anything in particular they're hoping for though." Penny offered.

"Mm, maybe." Elizabeth said hesitantly and they moved on through the stores.

Clint and Bucky took Penny out on another date for the Christmas holiday. It was bitterly cold, but Bucky was warm and they were inside most of the time anyways.

It was turning to be one of the best years of her life.

🏧🚪 𝐏ｏV ς𝓱άＮ𝕘𝕖 💥 🔥

Elizabeth's depression had hit an all time low. She had been feeling off ever since Steve had left her room and she knew that she still had the babies. The problem was, there was a little baby that was teetering on the edge of death.

She had secretly seen a doctor about it with Katya, because Katya was the one that could keep all of her secrets from anyone, including Elijah. The doctor said she needed to eat plenty of food, keep her fluids up, and not do any strenuous activity, including sex, until cleared by her.

Well, the last part was easy. She hadn't even seen anyone in the past four days besides Katya. She was keeping solely to her room except early mornings when no one was awake, to cook breakfast, or when F.R.I.D.A.Y. gave her the all clear and she would go and see her kids.

She wasn't sure why she had sunk so low into depression. It was a state of feeling like she was constantly on the edge of crying or feeling nothing at all. Days passed easily, mostly because she just slept through all of them.

She felt isolated from the others. She wasn't sure if she blamed it on Penny or the spy. But it felt like ever since the spy and her mother had been killed, that the others sort've stopped rallying around her. They had put all of their attention towards Penny and she suddenly felt like. . . like. . . like she had been loved on just because she needed protection. Now that the threat was gone, they didn't need to protect her anymore.

Even Elijah hadn't been around. He had taken Penny out on three dates so far though. Elizabeth wondered when the last time he took her on a date was.

But then again, she had always figured ever since she learned about this sort've thing, that it was just sex. The love was one sided. Go figure.

At the same time, she had also purposely stayed away from them to stop herself from giving in to sex, so really, the isolation was her fault. But the isolation was still giving her anxiety and making her doubt. Even if the doubts were because she was keeping them away and not necessarily because they wanted to stay away. But she also felt that they were staying away, because they hadn't tried to see why she'd locked them out, and it was a whole complex cycle of psychological feelings and emotions.

She did start having morning sickness, which was super fun. It also worried her and she went to another meeting with the doctor. The baby was a little more stable, but not by much and Elizabeth's blood pressure needed to come down, but she didn't have a way of not stressing.

She tried reading, which would sometimes work. Sometimes she could lose herself in a good book. Until she would hit the romance part and everything just sort've seemed to crumble again.

She started to research other things. Specifically about Cryo. If it would freeze the babies growing as well so that they could find a safe way to save her baby without her risking its' life. But there wasn't sufficient information on it to begin with.

She didn't know what she was going to do.

🍿👆 ᵖᗝ𝓥 Č𝒽卂𝓝ģＥ 🖕🍩

Penny laughed with the others at the stupidity of the movie. Well, except Katya who seemed to be in a bad mood. She had a notebook in her lap and was making marks in it, looking frustrated. Clint had picked up on her mood and was trying to look at the book, but every time he looked over, she snapped it closed.

"Mr. Stark, Director Fury is here." F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced.

"Uh huh." Tony said uncaringly, his head in Pennys' lap. Penny was stroking his hair while relaxing against Pietro.

It was only two minutes later when her father came striding into the Community room, "Where's Elizabeth?"

"Hi Dad, nice to see you too." Penny joked, earning laughs from the others around her- except Katya.

Fury rolled his eye. "Elizabeth hasn't answered my text and I sent it four hours ago. I just-"

Katya started to laugh. Except it was more bitter than that. "God, Fury, I love you."

Everyone looked at her.

"Four hours and you come check on her. Meanwhile, the last time anyone here has seen her was five days ago." Katya continued to smirk, standing up and grabbing the notebook she's been writing in. "Considering that, you might actually be able to get to see her."

Fury raised an eyebrow and looked at the rest of them, who looked rather frozen in their seats all of a sudden.

"Really?" Fury asked. "You're telling me that she's gone through a third traumatic experience and they still haven't learned from the first two in thinking she doesn't need any help?"

"She doesn't need help." Katya replied scathingly. "In fact, she just thinks she was right about the whole thing, in thinking she was just this damsel in distress and now that the threats gone, she's not needed anymore."

"That's not-" Bucky started but Katya turned on him.

"You haven't even seen her in nine days James so just don't."

"Hey." Clint said, sounding hurt. "I saw her today and yesterday and the day before. I've been checking on her every day but recently she's always been asleep so I haven't gotten to talk to her."

"How have you even been seeing her?" Katya grilled. "She coded F.R.I.D.A.Y. so only those with a certain password can even get in."

"The vents." Clint said softly.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.-" Tony started but Katya bit into him next.

"No." Katya snapped. "You don't get to override Elizabeth's command on F.R.I.D.A.Y. now. You can't just force yourself into her life after being out of it for sixteen days Anthony. None of you do. Except maybe Clint at this point." She turned back to Fury. "I'll go up with you. You'll need me for the password."

Her and Fury left. Elijah was the next to leave, just jumping out the window and taking to the skies. Trang slipped out of the room next, slamming the door behind her to go to the lab. Violetta and Ghaida left next and Penny noticed Loki was suddenly gone as well.

"Can you feel her?" Steve asked Wanda.

"Yes." Wanda said softly. "She's. . . sort've just numb. She's stressed about something as well."

"I'm going down to the gym." Bucky grunted, heading for the elevators. Natasha and Steve got up and joined him.

And the rest of them just sat there in guilty silence as the movie continued to play on the screen.

2 notes · View notes