#i dont mind constructive criticism as long as there is a side of praise

[ahoplessromanticsjournal]

Untitled - Polin

Lord Ashwyn is an OC (i have no idea where i got this name from so if it’s from something else i genuinely have no clue and would love to be reminded lol)

Written with book more in mind, but also has obvious show references i think

Disclaimer: all rights reserved, i used to write all the time but i haven’t in ages but i felt *inspired* and decided to have a go at it…apologies for any mistakes i wrote this at 2am a few nights ago and wasn’t really trying for perfect accuracy 😅

been struggling trying to figure out if i should make it longer or leave it as it is…

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“Miss Featherington, you look rather lovely tonight.” Pen smiled at the man over her glass. Pulling it away from her already stained lips, she nodded to the man and turned around to face the new season. She wasn’t looking for a husband anymore, no one would have her anyway. She was simply here to work (although no one else knew that of course). No need to be kind to those who weren’t kind to her before. Even if she did change her dresses and her hair, it wasn’t *only* for that small glimmer of hope she was holding out on.

She felt eyes on her and turned her head slightly to see the same man as before staring at her from the other side of the refreshments table. She knew he’d been staring at her now for scandalously too long. She did the only thing she could think of then and decided to try and scare him off.

“If you keep looking at me like that, Lord Ashwyn; everyone here will think you’d like to eat me.” Penelope said it as a jest. Just a simple joke to make him slightly uncomfortable so she could go back to slowly dancing around the perimeter of the room and to hopefully get this “gentleman” to leave her alone. She had stopped by the refreshments table just to give her hands something to do while her eyes wandered and her ears strained to listen. While browsing the crowd as she always does, she did, in fact, observe someone observing *her*. ‘Which, Pen had thought to herself, is what probably landed herself in this very unfortunate situation.

“I am considering it.” Lord Ashwyn mumbled drunkenly. This whole conversation was improper; let alone the fact that this particular gentleman didn’t seem to remember the “Only-Two-Glasses-Per-Person” societal rule. Quite obviously.

She eyed him, giving the most likely self-proclaimed “gentleman” her best, most unimpressed look. She was about to just simply walk away from him when he started speaking once more, ”Should you like to dance tonight, Miss Featherington? Maybe we can discuss all the ways in which a man can *devour* a woman.”, Penelope almost couldn’t believe her own ears. Obviously she already knew all the ways in which a woman could be pleased, at her age of eight and twenty; she had paid off a maid with Eloise Bridgerton, but the blunt openness of this “Gentleman”! He had to be intoxicated some great deal. Regardless, Penelope was now more eager than ever to somehow find an escape.

It would be harder than she now thought originally though, with him having asked for her hand in a dance. In society it was proper to never deny a dance if one’s dance card was not already full or if you’re not otherwise occupied. Pen is a known spinster which makes it all the more a pain to rid herself of this seasons leftovers. She scolded herself silently, fore if she was not one for a social gathering (and general society says she shouldn’t be) she may not have found herself in her current situation.

“Miss Featherington?”

“Yes, Lord Ashwyn, my apologies. It’s just that i believe i misheard you-“

“I assure you…” He slurred slightly on his s’s while holding a hand out to her,” You did not mishear me. I asked for you hand in dance”

There are not many times when Penelope Featherington is shocked into silence but this was, for certain, one of those rare occasions. She took a small but noticeable step back and hesitated. She ran through ideas on how to tell this man off without causing a scene or worse; a scandle; but couldn’t come up with any on time. The next song began to play and before she knew it she was being whisked around by Lord Ashwyn.

She hated every painstaking second of it. She hated the way he spoke, hated how obviously drunk he was, hated how he would whisper naughty things to her when he could. Who or what exactly did this man take her for? A rake herself? A desperate? A woman who threw herself at anyone who would give her attention? She didn’t even try to hide her facial expressions. She decided it would be best to just get this over with and then maybe retire for the night, in whole.

She allowed herself to fixate on the music. Allowed it to take over her mind and let her mussel memory do the talking; or well, dancing. She ignored his comments, ignored his wandering hands, ignored the faces that looked at her with pity, disgust, confusion, and everything in between. Once the song was over she’d be free to slip away and never be seen for the rest of the dreaded evening.

“Pardon me.”

Penelope was in the middle of spinning when the interruption happened. In her daze she tumbled backwards slightly and a hand caught her on the shoulder. Coming back to her senses she turned around to apologize to the victim of her off balance dancing, “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t see you-Colin?! -I mean- Mr. Bridgerton!? What are you doing here?”

There looking magnificent as always was him. Colin Bridgerton. Definitely not the one she’s holding out hope for. Nope. Not him. Not the man who first; told everyone who would listen he’d “never court Penelope Featherington” and then after she forgave him said to her face that they were just friends. Not the man who she begged to kiss her out of desperation and fear of dying without ever having felt a kiss. No not that man. She had told him she was done with his lessons. Done with trying to find a husband. Done with hoping someone out there would love her how she wants. So what did he want and what was he doing there?

“How shocked you are to see me. What am i doing here? At a ball? Miss Featherington, I think all that twirling made your mind twirl as well.” Colin’s hand was still on her shoulder holding her back to his chest. It felt almost like protective armor; his hand. His chest.

“Pardon me, Lord Ashwyn. But i must speak to Miss Featherington. It’s an urgent matter.”

“I do not-“ Penelope began.

“Do you wish to keep dancing with a man who is blatantly trying to get under your dress skirt?”, Colin had leaned down to her ear level and whispered it.

“Whatever you are saying to her, you may say in front of me, Bridgerton.”

“I said, “do you want to keep dancing with a man who is blatantly trying to hold his drunkenness together.”

“Now-“ Lord Ashwyn seemed to sober up a little at being loudly exposed by another man. He stood straighter and puffed out his chest a little. It almost made Penelope laugh. Lord Ashwyn looked to Penelope with his hand out,” I should like to finish our dance.”

“I think i shall go speak with Mr. Bridgerton. It seems quite serious. Lord Ashwyn.” She curtsied and walked away as quickly but as not noticeably as she could. She knew *he* was hot on her tail though. She could feel his presence. Feel the endless oceans of his eyes as she tried to get away. That deep blue was getting closer and she didn’t know what was about to happen. She could feel it though, she was about to either sink or swim, and this was going to be the deciding moment.

Once he caught her.

[buzzyboi79]

Kinktober-2022

MDNI

Masterlist

Keep your legs closed, Sweetheart-

Aged up!Pro Hero!Izuku x reader, yandere/jealous

2k words

Warnings: Smut, obv 🙄, rough sex, yandere vibes-? Jealousy. Unprotected sex (dont be silly, wrap the willy). Use of whore once. Lots of praise. Izuku being a dom but in a submissive way!????? Lmk if i missed something.

A/n: deadass wrote this in an hour and a half. Not beta read whatsoever. Take it or leave it besties. And please, please leave constructive criticism in the comments. Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated

The Gala was just as grand as the news stations displayed. Only this time, instead of watching it through your tv, you were on the arm of the number one hero, Izuku Midoriya.

He sat down at your table with pride knowing he had the prettiest girl beside him. With his arm wrapped around your waist, gently playing with the folds of your long, green dress (which he cheesily matched in his forest green tie).

While his face was all smiles for the paps, he was all too acutely aware of the other men’s gazes. The lingering looks directed towards the slit that ran up your leg. The second glances watching as the fabric across your chest shifted.

He hated it. Hated it so much. You were his, and nothing could change that, right? He repeated that mantra so many times over to himself as he watched you talk with the spiky redhead on your other side.

You spoke politely and laughed at his jokes when called for. You laughed at his jokes too, right? You said that you loved his rambling. That had to be true. Still, he watched you again, and you laughed a little too hard.

A frown crept across his face and he gently but firmly slid a hand over your thigh. It happened to be the side with the slit he gripped the soft plush flesh hiding beneath the dress he loved oh so much.

You yelped slightly, more to yourself but Izuku heard it. Of course he did, he heard everything. The small smirk that hid something more menacing behind it gave that away immediately when you turned to him. “Kirishima’s funny isn't he, Princess.” He spoke it as a statement, not even bothering to ask your opinion.

You gave him a small nod with worried eyes knowing what he was thinking. You had been through this before. Always so protective over you, your body, and especially your attention. “Yeah, Izu!” Before Kirishima has a chance to speak up Y/n grabs Izukus’ hand firmly and speaks, “Hey honey, can you come with me really quick? I need to use the restroom and I don't really know my way around.”

You gave him the softest smile that he swears could have melted Todorokis thunderous ice, and he looked up at you with eyes full of what could only be called ‘Puppy Love’. He nods vigorously. Despite his anger and jealousy of everyone thinking you were theirs, he did anything you ever asked, with no hesitation.

You gently pull him up and head towards the bathrooms while Eijirou makes a mental note that it looked like you knew exactly where the bathrooms were before turning to the rest of his friends at the table.

You get to the bathrooms immediately choosing the designated “family bathroom” so you could drag him in with you. Immediately you lock the door and turn to him with your arms crossed and he almost wants to cower despite the fact that he’s easily a foot taller than you. (A/n, no Idc if you're 6’4”, he. Is. taller.)

“What was that about Izuku?” The full name. He knew he would probably be in trouble but at this point he didn't care. Everyone’s eyes on you during the gala was the only thought in his mind, and his member tucked away in his pants.

You looked absolutely perfect in the dress he had picked out for you, and he wanted nothing more than to tear it off right then and there, despite the speech that he had to deliver in half an hour or so. He took a breath before rising back to his full height. He was going to take what was his, and make sure everyone knew it too.

Carefully but secure in his choices, the green haired man stepped towards you, reaching out his hand and sliding it down your side before letting it rest at your hip. “What was that about, sweetheart? It was about the fact that Kirishima was obviously flirting with what's rightfully mine.” He laughs to himself and kisses the bottom of your jaw, his other hand cupping your chin. “You wouldn't have let him do anything to you right, Princess?”

Since the moment he first touched you in that bathroom, you knew you were a goner, melting at his words, let alone the hand that slowly crept further down your hip towards the slit on your leg. You let out a soft breath in reaction to his ministrations and warble out a feeble answer. “N-no Izuku, never. Just you, I only want you.”

“Only me, sweetheart?”

The memories of when you had control of this moment were in the far back of your mind while you nodded your head so hard you looked like Izukus’ own little bobble head. “I’d only ever want you. Only want you to touch me- to love me.”

You lean in for a kiss and he reciprocated immediately, yearning to have your lips against his.

You wish you could say it was sloppy and full of passion but it wasn't. It was domineering with his hand under your dress cupping your ass and the free hand gripping your chin tightly in order to keep you in place. He was angry, and you knew it. You also knew he would take it out on you and your precious cunt that he held so dearly.

Keeping hold of you chin, Izuku pulled back and looked into your eyes with obsessive infatuation. “I love you so much, Y/n. You know that right? You know you're the only person I could ever want.”

This time, he leans in and kisses your neck instead, slowly moving down while nudging off the straps of your dress, all while muttering captivating words into the soft skin he found. The strong hand that was once on your ass was now moving your red panties aside in order to let his fingers explore your folds. Red panties, a mistake on your part. A mistake he wouldn't let you forget.

He unlatches from your neck with a pop, leaving a mark, that would be seen, behind. He looks down before his eyes catch on your panties “Did you wear these for him, Princess?” The pout he gives you is genuinely sad and fearful. “Tell me you didn't-”

You shake your head as fast as you can before he can react. “No, no, I promise. I wore them because I thought you would like them- I’m so sorry, Izu.” You try to ground the freckled man who was so lost in everything you are and the sound of your panties ripping catches you off guard. “I-Izuku!?”

His smile is back plastered on his face, full of love. “Well, you won’t need these then, sweetheart. I’ll buy you some more, don't worry.” He kisses you once again before you can utter a word in defense.

Izukus’ kisses always enthralled every fiber of your being, and now was no different. It felt like the sun leaned down and spread it's soft rays against your lips. But at the same time, it felt as if thunder itself crashed in between the two of you.

As you were kept captivated by his lips and soft spoken words between breaths, the two fingers that had been rubbing against your clit, slipped inside where you needed him most. The moan you let out was more satisfying than any hero accomplishment he could ever even dream to achieve, and Izuku was determined to hear more.

“That’s it baby, let me hear you. I just want to hear how much you want me- then I’ll give you what you want. What do you want, baby?” He spoke so fast, with so many questions. Between that and his hands working magic on your insides you could barely even form a sentence.

“P-please Izuku! I want you inside me! I’m b-beg- ngh- begging!” He almost had you in tears as you could feel your stomach start to clench in anticipation of what was coming. (a/n pun intended <3) “I need you so bad. Only you! I only want you!”

“Good girl. Such a good girl for me.” He scissored his fingers back and forth, further stirring up your soft spots. “Are you going to cum for me? Show me how much you want my cock inside you. Come on sweetheart, I love you so much, let me show you too.”

You threw your head back as he added a third thick digit, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head. “F-fuck-! I’m coming-!!” You clenched your eyes shut, small tears falling, mouth falling open in an ‘o’.

“Such a good girl for me- oh don't cry Princess-! I love you so much, you’re doing so well.” His fingers never stopped as he worked you through your high, his rough fingers not matching his words whatsoever. “You did so well for me, how about I give you what you really deserve after working so hard.” He pulls his fingers out, licking the juices that string between the digits.

You hear the jingle of his belt buckle before his slacks are falling to reveal a throbbing cock straining against his boxers. Your shaking hands tentatively reach forward to pull down the fabric, allowing all 7 inches of his cock to spring out and pumping it once with your hand.

He groans before grabbing your hand and pulling it away. “You- you can't do that sweetheart- I’ll cum too quick” He grabs both your hands in one of his larger ones and pins them against the wall behind you. After hiking up your dress above your hips he grasped his cock and slowly rubbed it through your folds, catching your clit and making you jump.

Slowly he starts to push in, groaning as he did so. You winced at the stretch, more tears leaking from your eyes. No matter how many times he fucks you senseless, his size felt like it was splitting you apart.

After fully sheathing himself inside of you he stopped, gently rubbing your cheek. “Shh, It's okay. I've got you, Y/n. Can I move? Please? You feel so good-” You take a deep breath and nod for him to move, which he does, hard.

His thrusts match the anger and intensity of his jealousy, and you had no idea just how much he hurt everyone at the gala to make sure no one ever looked at you like that again. Instead, he chose to take it out on your poor, drooling, pussy.

“God you feel amazing, sweetheart-” He grunts loudly and you think about the fact that no one had heard you yet before a sharp thrust brings you back to the present. “Stay with me sweetheart-”

He angles his hips deeper, hitting just the right spot to make your tongue loll out of your mouth. “Look at you, such a whore for me, aren’t you, baby? Taking me so well.”

You try to nod at him and speak. “You're the only one I want!! N-not them!” You could feel your climax creeping up your stomach again, already so close.

Izuku let out a lewd moan befitting a pornstar over the number one hero, letting go of your hands and gripping your hip with one and rubbing your clit with the other instead. “That’s right, such a good girl. Cum with me, Y/n. I got you-”

The fast circles over your clit send you spinning before clenching your cunt tightly and cumming all over his cock, screaming for him. Izuku groans and never stops thrusting as he lets go and releases his hot ropes of cum inside you, with a loud call of your name.

As you both start to come down from your highs he pulls out and kisses your forehead. “My gorgeous Princess-” You grin lazily at him before feeling both of your juices slide down your leg. “Izuku! My underwear!”

He grins at you, rubbing the back of his neck and leaning in, “I guess you’ll just have to keep your legs closed, Sweetheart.” Before he kisses you once more, adjusts his pants and your dress, and walks out to go get ready for his speech.

[fanfictionisvalid]

Loki x reader

Prompt: Person A laughing and joking through the horribly traumatic story of how they got one of their scars. Person A stops suddenly when they see the reaction of tears leaking out of Person B's eyes.

Content: ouch and fluff.

Word count: 2261

Alternate Universe where there was another Hydra experiment before the Maximoff twins and Loki had come with Thor to help defeat Ultron.

Author's Note: this is my first try at something like this. Constructive criticism is more than welcome, and please try not to leave hate Haha. If you like it, be expressive about it and reblog!

So here goes...

It had been a couple of months since the whole incident at Sokovia had happened, and a couple of months since I had found the Avengers. I was one of the initial experimental subjects at a secret Hydra base that shut down soon after several failed attempts at making something out of willing, or sometimes unwilling, human subjects. The tests performed on me had failed a little too badly which led to the shutting down of the whole base. They shifted to somewhere else where they continued their research and experimentation and two of their last remaining subjects turned out to be a success – the Maximoff twins. After being left to die in the Hydra laboratory, everyone had fled the scene. Everyone who was alive anyway. The sceptre's powers and myself did not go along so well, it seemed. Feeding the radiations of the scepter into me did not get any immediate results, except for a pounding head and throbbing veins. It was as if my body was absorbing as much energy of the scepter as it could. But upon continued exposure to the radiation, my body could not take it anymore. A ringing sound screeched in my ears and I blacked out. When I woke up, the facility was empty except for the dead bodies of two guards and one scientist who were in the room behind the glass window.

I was not a willing subject. I was taken against my will and forced down onto the stretcher with my limbs bound till I stopped thrashing about. Turns out, the scepter did not kill me instead it granted me superhuman abilities instead. I was able to absorb other people's energies temporarily and store it in myself only to use it later as my own. I was found by SHIELD and they sent me to help the Avengers take down Ultron. Absorbing the powers of Wanda and Vision, I helped defeat the robot army. Since then, I've been living at the Avengers Base with Tony and the others. I wouldn't consider myself a Avenger, but surely I was an ally (With no other roof to sleep under.)

I didnt speak much to anyone. I liked to keep to myself as much as I could. I preferred to linger by the shadows and listen more than I liked to talk. I was observant, picking up on people's energies and moods and weaknesses and strengths with the gears in my mind turning at all times, thinking about one thing or the other. No one really paid me a lot of unnecessary attention and they gave me my space. I was thankful for the lack of interference.

Except one person. There was only one person in the building who I would catch looking at me when I had something especially demanding going on in my head. He would look at me with a sort of gaze that made it seem like he knew exactly what I was thinking. Loki. The God of mischief. Another outcast who had recently earned his place in this building as an ally. He was usually a very chatty person; manipulative and flirtatious, always two steps ahead of you. But it seemed to me that he had come to care for the Avengers and didn't busy himself with plotting everyone's death. He was the only one who paid me so much attention. Whenever I was up late at night, staring out the floor to ceiling glass window, he was somehow awake too. On some nights he would just come and stand next to me, and on the others, he would strike up a conversation. Initially the conversations died down easily with neither of us having a lot to talk about, but recently talk started flowing between us like a babbling brook. We started to sit by the window every night after everyone fell asleep, talking or enjoying the silence. He would ask questions about me to keep me talking on nights when he somehow understood my mind was spiralling into a dark place. I started to answer and eventually, I let him in. The night time was our time when we would sit and enjoy each other's company and he would sometimes make me a steaming cup of tea. During the day, around everyone, we did not go back to acting like strangers. We talked and chuckles passed even in the presence of others and I started getting more involved with the rest of the people too. I still mostly liked keeping to myself though.

On one such night, I was sitting with my knees bent and my hands loosely wrapped around them, my side pressed to the glass window, and Loki was sitting in front of me, with his back to the glass, legs outstretched in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He had his eyes closed but I knew he wasn't sleeping. He seemed to be in a particularly quiet and somber mood that day so I probed him. I said, "Hey?" He replied without opening his eyes, "hmm?" "You know everything about my past, about my family - or lack thereof - and where I come from and what happened to me... but I dont know much about you. Except that you're an Odinson. God of Mischief. Rightful king of Jotunheim. And you tried to take over New York."

He opened his eyes lazily and gave me a sidelong glance before shutting them again. "Ask away, human. What do you want to know?"

"Tell me about your childhood, " I said and noticed the tick in his jaw. He eased up quickly though and took a deep breath, opening his eyes completely now. "Hmm.. well.. there isn't much to talk about. Asgard loved me for I was a rather cute little boy. Thor and I used to compete a lot in sword dueling and racing and the likes and he used to win almost every time, except the times I cheated." He let out a breathy chuckle which I mimicked. "Uh.. what else is there. Well, there's the time when Odin took us to watch a play on my birthday and Thor accidentally set the stage on fire. Oh, and that one time," he turned his body slightly to face me with a glint in his eyes, "I disguised as a snake and stabbed thor after he picked me up in a fit of rage when we were 8." He smiled proudly and waited for a reaction.

My eyes slowly widened and my mouth fell open slightly before I exclaimed, "you did WHAT?! Why did you stab him? You'll were kids, jeez, what kind of rage overtook you?" His smile turned sheepish and he slowly slithered back to his original position. He hesitated and licked his lips before saying, "Well. I was jealous. He had won another wrestling match and Odin was so proud of him that he didnt care about the very realistic dragon I could summon with my powers." He lazily moved his right hand through the air and a green translucent figure of a miniature dragon appeared. He lowered his hand but the dragon slithered around and breathed green fire before fading away into nothing. It was like a holographic projection. "It was an achievement for me then. It was the first real figure I could conjure and it was huge. Mother was proud of me and I was so eager to see the same look in Odin's eyes, but he just couldn't care. Thor had won another one of his wrestling matches and Odin was so so proud of him, as If that wasn't something everyone saw every other day." He chuckled and ducked his head. "When I tried to grab his attention again, Odin sent me back to my room after belittling me in front of his councilmen and Thor and telling me how little I had accomplished; how little what I had done meant. I cried myself to sleep that night." Loki's shoulders shook with laughter as he said the last part. He took another moment to stop his silent fit of chuckles before continuing. "I.. I didn't like that I cried. I didn't like that I felt weak and unwanted. I didn't like that Thor got all the praise while all I got was negligence. I blamed Thor. In my rage, and as a prank, the next day I stabbed him. Of course I didn't know I was adopted then. Things add up now." He shrugged.

He had a facade of nonchalance up, a guard of laughter. But I could see by the way his chin was dipped and his eyes trained on his twiddling fingers that it was a sensitive topic. My eyes pricked with tears as I imagined a young Loki, trying so hard to make his father proud but failing everytime. A young Loki being pushed into the shadows of his brother time and again by their very own father. A young Loki being denied the praise and pat on the back he deserved and instead being met with insults. I could bet my pinky that that wasn't the only time Odin proved to be an incompetent and biased father.

"That was the first time I stabbed Thor." He chucked, "Of course it didn't lead to the demise of the God of thunder but it helped release some of my stupid anger." He laughed and said, "it wasn't the last time I stabbed him either."

He turned to look at me, the laugh still on his lips when he drew up short. I was looking at him intently and I knew he could see the tears pooling in my eyes. Every hint of amusement vanished from his lips and his eyebrows slightly pinched together. "I.. did I say something to offend you, y/n?"

I kept looking at him for a long time, an uninterrupted gaze. But I wasn't entirely seeing him. I was seeing the young, 8 year old Loki who cried himself to sleep at night because his father was an ass. After a long pause I sniffled lightly and whispered, "You deserved better, Loki."

He looked taken aback by what I just said. The frown on his forehead disappeared and his lips parted. He opened his mouth as if to say something but didn't. After a couple moments of searching my eyes for something, he swallowed and said, "That's.. that's the first time anyone has ever said something like that to me.."

My heart twisted in my chest and my throat closed up. A miserable wince came upon my features and a tear leaked out of my right eye. I swallowed around the lump in my throat before speaking. "I wish I had known you when you were little. I wish I had known the eight year old Loki who deserved praise for what he had accomplished. I would've held him and told him that I was so proud of him. I wouldve rocked him in my arms if he couldn't stop crying because of what his father had said to him. I would've let him cry and I wouldve told him that it's okay to cry.. that crying doesnt make us weaker. I would've made sure he fell asleep without a frown on his face. I would've hugged him and kissed his forehead and reminded him again and again that he was loved and wanted and worthy.." Another year ran free and I took in a deep breath. "I would've reminded him that I wanted him.. that I loved him." I felt him, more than I heard him, take in a sharp breath. His eyes were turning glossy but he didn't turn away from me. Somewhere along the line he had turned his body to almost completely face mine and he had scooted closer. Or maybe I had. I don't know.

Neither of us said anything for a while, only looked into each other's eyes as if staring into each other's souls. I let him peer into mine and he let him peer into his. This was the first time I had wanted to say that I loved him but now that I had, I realised It had always been true. I just didnt know what it was that I was feeling. I didnt know that it was not mere friendship. Whatever it was I had treated it gently and preciously, and I was glad for that Because Loki and anything associated with him deserved to be treated with care and fondness. After a couple moments, I said in a voice just above a whisper but clear enough for both of us to understand even around the lump in my throat, "You deserved better."

That seemed to break him out of his trance like state and he slowly blinked twice before turning his head away from me. He looked down into his lap And collected himself. I let him. When he raised his head and looked at me with those piercing eyes of his, I knew more than he could say. He raised his hand and gently laid it on my hand that was still lightly wrapped around my knees. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over my skin and a more-than-welcome shiver spread throughout my body. He said in a meaningful whisper, "I got my better."

And I knew in the way his hand warmed my skin and his eyes spoke to my soul that not only were my feelings respected, but also reciprocated in the most unfiltered and purest form.

[dancing-with-dichotomies]

“Lone Pearl Cowgirl” Ch5 update/Important mentions

I've been feeling... Pretty super horribly awful down lately, like bottom of the bottom... Been fighting several things at once. A persistant seasonal depression, probably. My massive damn writing block that's haunted every single thing I've tried to write all this damn year, and part of the last too. My damned body that just Won't. Stop. Hurting. EVER...

And my abusive family, my family that is literally in a damn cult, my family that "lowkey" supported the second-coming of the worst kinds of evil, even though not a small portion of our family once escaped that... Them holding me down, manipulating me knowing I am disabled, isolating me all my life and using me...And I can only hope that being able to live away from them won't just be a dream when I'm disabled but can't get disability, live in one of the priciest damned states in the country, and my parents keep sabotaging me and using me and manipulating me. I've tried to claw myself away from them. It hurts to keep seeing them selfishly sabotage me and having others judge me. So much of my life hurts, but especially lately, around winter, around my birthday... And they always actively dunk on me harder around my birthday...

That, plus my pain increasing, and... and, and, and... Well, you probably already get it if yer one of the ones who even really cared, so I won't go on if yer not, but...

Anyways I feel like it so I wanna tell the people who REALLY helped me to survive what was one of the worst bouts of depression I've had in years, even knowing I generally get depressed periodically... You guys are really the ones who made a difference this time and you should know it.

crappy-crapolice  -- Change yer nickname already, Crappy. Yer the awesomest. XP XD Really dude, most of the time we just BS and have fun with various fandom shit, but you've seen me at my lowest points not just once but a few times, seen me get paranoid and doubt you a few times, but you've always been so patient and amazing about reminding me that it's my mental illness making me think/believe those things. And you've always been so great at reminding me when I need those reminders, but without judging me or shaming me. You've been so nice about really listening to my issues and realizing how many struggles I face that the average person doesn't, how I get way less help, way more demands, and way more obstruction than the average person, and you've showed me real sympathy instead of the usual "get over it already, nobody cares about what happened in your past only that you can contribute in the present" or "I'm sorry that happened to you, but also this bores me, can't we just talk about nice things 24-7..." type 'sympathy' most people settle for all too quickly... You've been the one to remind me of my own limitations when most people don't even want to hear about it, won't even let me finish before they judge me. Most just settle for assuming that someone in a bad position must deserve it. That they're not working hard enough or something. You're one of the few that really understood... Because you're one of the few who really listened long enough and didn't just blow me off or dismiss me. You treated me like I'm still a normal human being even when I've been in the midst of going kinda crazy from the stress, and that's what's managed to bring me back sometimes... Also, I hardly ever even TALK about the fandom we started out in anymore, I actually kinda dislike that fandom more than not after it all was over with, and you've still treated me like a friend. A lot of people would just drift away if you weren't interested in their fandom anymore. But you care about not just my other fandom interests too, but my original work. That really means a lot to me, NOT-Crappy. Thanks, dude. <3

Iris - People like you give me hope for the future. You work so incredibly hard for such a selfless cause. People even really mistreat doctors where you're from, and you're still determined to make it your life mission to heal and save and educate as many people as you can. Of course like I've told you to, you need to remember to make time for yourself! But I'm so incredibly grateful you've made time for me too... Again, we fandom BS a lot, but we also talk about the heavy stuff too, and I wanna let you know I appreciate it, that it helps make it feel lighter about it overall and I hope you do too. You always really listen and talk with me, have answered questions I've had, and are concerned about how I'm really feeling, instead of just rushing to cover up my troubles. It's doubly impressive that you manage to be so patient when you work so long and so hard. I have some pretty bad issues with feelings of being abandoned and "disappeared", so I really especially appreciate you talking me through that. It's also super impressive to me that despite us having a couple times where we both kinda unintentionally offended the other saying things that didnt quite come out right over the keyboard, that we managed to talk to each other about how we felt about it and clarify that no harm was meant. I know you're really busy and sometimes a while goes by where we don't talk, and even still it's easy to trust that you wouldn't just disappear on me, and that you'd really care if I truly disappeared too... I just want you to know. You're not just a My Hero-fan, you're a legit real life hero to me and I know to a lot of other people too. <3 <3

closet-cryptid/Michelle - We sometimes go a while without talking nowadays, I know we both know how hard it is with a little one, and that yer net sometimes goes in and out. But again, yer one of those friends I trust enough that it doesn't  matter. It actually amazes me even more because there was a time where we had a pretty big disagreement to say the least, and both said some pretty harsh things. I was fully prepared to burn our bridge of friendship, but to my deep surprise, you actually apologized some time later, and I did too, and I feel like we're better friends for it now. And again, yer one of those people who don't just  try to cover up troubles with fandom. We have our fun fandom discussions, but you've always been really willing to listen and really be sympathetic when I need to be sad too, you care about the real me and not just the me that made content for the fandom, and that's why we're still around to still putz about the fandom junk too. IZ FOREVER! XD (and I hope you and your sisters feel better too <3)

csp124 - Yer a newer friend, but yanno, you've proven to be a good one. Again, we can putz about fandom junk or other fun stuff, but you've been truly understanding about allowing me to talk about the bad junk that's been worrying my mind so much lately. You've been really helpful especially lately because you didn't just give up on me because my illness wouldn't let me stop "being negative" for a while, as some people reduce it to. Even though I didn't want to look on the bright side for a while, you kept bringing it up to me. It took a while, others gave up on me and got frustrated or angry with me, but you're one of the ones who kept being positive when you knew I -couldn't-, not that I just -wouldn't-, and understanding of my darkness too...

unified-multiversal-theory - Everybody here has helped me along a lot in various ways this year, but you've shown a special interest in my original work especially that really helped give me the inspiration I needed to get this latest chapter done. I feel so proud and relieved to have gotten chapter five finally done, and have more hope than I have in a while that the rest might be possible too. It's really deeply disheartening, a whole new level of isolation and depression, when so many people time and again, even other creators you'd hope would get it or at LEAST encourage you a LITTLE instead of being overly critical, especially those that get heaped with praise themselves, either ignore you completely/never give you a chance or even tear your creations down, claiming that they're trying to be "helpful/constructive". It's not that I can't handle constructive criticism, but I can recognize my characters being torn down by someone who is being overly critical because they dont really care one whiff about my work and REAL, ACTUAL -constructive- criticism like the kind you gave me, where you actually found a few errors that, while it depressed me for a moment to realize I had forgotten something so silly and needed to rewrite almost a while page because of it lol, IT ACTUALLY HELPED ME FINALLY FINISH THE DANG CHAPTER INSTEAD OF PARALYZING ME WITH DEPRESSION AND FEAR ABOUT MY ENTIRE WORK. You actually discussed my ideas and plot in detail and that's been so incredibly helpful. I know like Iris yer busy, so I wanted to say thank you for taking the time to help me with this especially. This work means more than a lot to me, a lot of people just blow it off like a silly story but it's SO much more than that. Helping me with this has really improved my outlook on life lately. I know everyone knows I love and live for my daughter, that she's the reason I keep existing... But she's not the reason I was made to exist in the first place. I feel like this story and her sister-stories are. Sometimes I confuse it because everything is confusing in this world, and because there's a sea of people who think the crazy shit Christians and Muslims and men in general do makes sense but somehow I'M the really crazy one, but... Just, thanks. I just feel a lot saner now that I made progress on something that means so much to me, and to know there's at least a few people out there who also really take interest in and appreciate it. <3

itsmorethanjustafantasy - We actually don't talk too much at all lol, here and there we talk a bit about fandom, but yanno... I just wanted to mention again how nice I think you are for sending people holiday well-wishes. Growing up with 90+% of my family in the Jehovah's Witnesses cult, and because of how sick I was growing up, my birthday and other holidays were especially hard times for me. Always on the outside looking in. Trained to tell other people it didn't matter and reject any holiday wishes or gifts given to my face when they were around, but deep down always feeling so lonely and isolated and excluded. You're one of those people who just out of the blue wishes people well on the holidays. For most people it's probably just nice. I just wanted you to know it did a little more for me though. It was nice to do for me, but it also made me feel included, and like someone remembered me. Thank u for that. Belated Happy Halloween, and upcoming Merry Christmas!

In general, there were a few other people that popped in when I was temporarily mad with grief and pain and helped talk to me about the rough stuff, bookrebelwordwarrior, kendallandherstuff, and a handful of others, sorry if it's been a while and I forgot anyone specific, but yeah. To everyone who really helped me and and didn't just give up on me, who not just remembered the good in me, but helped me to eventually see it again too, and help that goodness actually -grow-... Help bring out what -I- feel is really the best of me, not what others want me to be... Thank you. I can't say I'll never be depressed again, I've seen too much and there's so much stacked against me, but I'll try my best to keep trying, to keep believing progress is possible even when it feels like your life is currently stagnant and there's an ocean of people who don't care if you die or that you even ever existed. It's sad that there's so few, but life is just barely bearable when people really show they care. <3

So, consider this latest chapter of Lone Pearl,  "Faithful Phil and the Martyred Mother", dedicated to you guys. <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20041537/chapters/51013765

[the-marvel-imagines-blog]

Madness | Chpt. 3

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Little Wolf”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7,257

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of character death, survivors guilt.

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

A/N: Once again, ya’ll are amazing. Thank you so much for reading. If there’s something you like or don’t like, let me know. I always look forward to compliments or constructive criticism <3

Tagged: @teddyboobear (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

Our hands brushed against each other’s as we laid in the cool grass that had been shielded from much of the sunlight during the day thanks to the trees that stood almost as tall as the pillars in the throne room. The blades of grass seemingly sang to us as they brushed against each other with as much delicacy as my hand against his. As I craned my neck to the side, ignoring the stars in the night sky for a moment, I gazed into the eyes of the brightest star of them all. Loki. I didn’t know how long he had been staring at me, but it had been long enough for my face to flush with color. His lips pulled up into a cheeky grin, and I was reminded of a time when we were children. It was seldom that we didn’t watch the stars with each other at night.

When we were children, we both watched the stars together. As we grew up, we found ourselves watching each other more often than not. I loved watching him as he gazed up at the stars, amazement overcoming his features. To those who didn’t know him the way I did, Loki was cold and logical. I saw a different man. He was poetic and sensitive. He was beautiful and warm. In that moment, he looked at me the same way he used to look at the stars, with a burning question in his eyes that said, “how was something so perfect created from nothing at all?” And that was why I became bashful.

For a moment, we laid in complete silence just staring at each other. What started as a night of appreciating the beauty that nature had to offer was quickly turning into something so much more than that. When he noticed the glint of reluctance in my eyes, he silenced every doubt with a look of mischief and thrill as he intertwined our fingers. At the time, I was sure it was to cause me some sort of discomfort or to fuel the fire of embarrassment. However, it was because he wanted to feel me the same way I wanted to feel him. As those slender fingers intertwined with mine, I felt myself pushing my body closer to his, leaving almost no space between the God of Mischief and myself.

A piece of me tried to pass off the gesture as something much more innocent than what my own mind was trying to conjure up, but an even larger piece of me knew that this was the start of something I didn’t know if I was ready for. I didn’t know if I wanted to risk the relationship I had with my best friend for something that felt so trivial at the time. However, I could no longer fight off feelings that had been present since the very beginning. We had already pushed the boundaries too far on nights we were feeling unstoppable, and they were some of the best nights of my life. As he held my hand in his own, I tested the waters by giving it a gentle squeeze, seeing that the effect was a playful grin from him. The mischief melted away from his eyes, and he radiated the warmth and compassion I knew him for.

He rolled over onto his side, and I followed him, completely in sync with his motions. Our hands stayed connected and continued to rest in the grass. His other hand reached up to brush the stray strands of hair from my face as he gently caressed my cheek with every motion. His touch was featherlight and filled with tenderness and love. I leaned into his touch and reached up to rest my free hand against his cheek. My fingers danced along the soft skin beneath the tips of my fingers. I took note of his sharp jawline, his chiseled cheekbones, and every dip and angle in his perfect face. Each feature was burned into my memory from the countless years admiring him and touching him. There was only a single patch of his skin that my fingers hadn’t already travelled, and I was certain that the day would someday come for that as well.

“You are so beautiful, my lady,” he finally spoke, a voice that felt like velvet as the warmth of his breath cascaded across my face. He drew even closer to me as his eyes flickered over my face to see that my cheeks burned with diffidence. He knew what his words did to me, but he couldn’t help himself. I could feel that he was speaking his truth when words of praise spilled from his lips for me. I knew that he told me no lies, but I still felt like I was undeserving of his admiration. To me, no one would ever be deserving of something so pure from him, for he was the closest to perfect one could get. I wanted to keep him pure and unscathed, which was why I protected him. Maybe that was why he also protected me.

The sides of my lips tugged up into a shy smile, “you cannot admire the stars if your eyes are on me.”

He chuckled, “you act as if you don’t already know,” he spoke, pressing his forehead against my own. It was something he did often when we were alone. The closeness allowed me to breathe in the scent of him. He smelled of the breeze when it rolled through the forest, carrying the smell of nature with it. He smelled like life, which had no particular scent but freshness. I couldn’t help but close my eyes and smile as I felt our energies bleeding into one another. I nuzzled my face even closer to his, our noses grazing against each others. Sensing that there was still space left, he tilted his head ever so slightly to bring our faces impossibly closer.

When I realized what we were doing, I spoke, “what of the stars, Loki?” I asked, reminding him that his attention should not be wasted on me. Still, I didn’t move from my position, feeling alive once more as he held me.

I could feel the smirk on his lips before he spoke, “I care not of the stars when I look at you for you are brighter and far more beautiful than they could ever hope to be,” he said, causing my heart to swell with joy. His voice lowered as his lips brushed against mine, sending a current through my body, “besides, I have no great love for the stars, not like the love I have for you,” he murmured before pressing his lips to mine, allowing me no time to respond; however, as soon as his lips met mine, I didn’t care about anything else but him. His kiss was gentle, like the water lapping at your feet or the breeze in your hair on a warm night. It had not been the first time he kissed me. We began our love affair-if one could call it that-when we were still young. It was when we were no longer in our childhood, but we weren't quite adults yet. We were in the strange process of discovering our place in the world, and in the meantime, we discovered each other. I always figured that Loki just needed time to realize that he could have someone far greater than me, someone with a name and something more to give.

As our lips danced with each others-slow and steady, like our relationship-I heard him. I heard the thudding of his heart and realized that he was nervous about initiating the kiss, like he always was. I heard a gentle groan that was born deep within his chest. I heard the fluttering of his eyelashes, like the wings of a butterfly, and I realized that he couldn't keep his eyes closed. Instead, he opened them every so often and checked to make sure that he was not just imagining this. I only heard him. I only felt him. It was just the two of us in our own beautiful moment, and I realized that I was waiting for something that would not happen. I was waiting for Loki to figure out that he didn't want me, that he could do so much better, but I knew that the moment he left me, the moment he forsook me, would never come. I didn't know what I did to deserve a love so beautiful and so sweet, but I had him, and I was going to enjoy what time we had together because I loved him.

With the sudden realization that my feelings were reciprocated, my heart swelled with joy, and a lump rose in my throat. I pulled away from the soft and sweet kisses and opened my eyes, allowing the tears to form without feeling embarrassed about them. For so long, I was sure that the only love I would know was the love I had to give, but I never thought I could know a love so strong and so pure that was all for me. As those blue eyes fluttered open, they met mine with fear that he had done something wrong or that he had hurt me in some way. When he saw the tears in my eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, “oh, Eva, did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to. What happened?” he asked, frantically trying to figure out what was wrong.

I could only smile in response to his distress, laughing at how quick he was to assume that he had done something wrong. Even though it hurt to know that he thought of himself as a monster who could only bring suffering and pain into the lives of others, I couldn’t help but feel special in that he wanted to preserve me. Finally, words found me once more, and I said the words to him that he had said to me for years. I gazed into his eyes as the universe fell into place, “I love you, Loki. I have always loved you,” I professed in a voice low enough that not even the trees could hear. I wanted to shout my love for him from the highest mountain, but I wanted the beginning of-what would be-our whirlwind love story to be sacred between just us.

He was left speechless for a moment, but his disbelief faded slightly as tears of joy filled his eyes, “I love you, Eva.”

I smiled up at him, “I love you more,” I whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss to his lips.

It was the first time I told Loki I loved him, and it was the first time I saw him cry. It was the beginning of the centuries we would spend together before the fall.

*End of Flashback*

Heimdall’s deep voice brought me back to the present, “you think not of Hjalmar but of Loki. His darkness plagues you still,” he said, orange eyes staring out into the vast universe. He always seemed to be contemplating something, but at the same time, he was without all judgement. His dark skin glowed brighter than the golden armor upon him. He had the beauty of every warrior before him, but what made him more beautiful than so many was the way he viewed life. He believed that life was to be preserved no matter what, and it was our shared belief that drew us closer together. Just as I was about to argue with him, he spoke again, “you have visited me more times than anyone in Asgard. You have spoken my name more than the Allfather himself. You have spent more time looking out across the vast Universe with me than Thor, himself, a man whose love for the stars has always been insatiable. You have entrusted me more of your deepest and most personal secrets than the queen, a goddess who often stared across the universe with me while filling my ear with details of her life that almost no one else knew. All this, yet you do not think I can see right through you,” he remarked, stoically and without so much as a glance.

My eyes lowered as I processed his words. It was true. Heimdall had been one of the few people who could read me like an open book. He knew my every thought and feeling before it even occurred. It was worthless to attempt to hide anything from him, especially the truth, “I miss Hjalmar, but...I cannot bring him back to me no matter what I do. I cannot right the wrongs that led to his death. I do still feel like there is something to be done about Loki. I still feel like I can bring him back to me, which would right so many of the wrongs in my life. The memory of Hjalmar haunts me still, but I’m trying to focus my mind on something that I can fix,” I explained, gazing up at the strong features of the gatekeeper.

The sides of his mouth twisted into the subtlest grin I had ever seen, but it was still there, “what you fail to realize is that death is not something that requires fixing. You do not lack the ability to fix death because it is just as much a part of life as living,” he stated, finally peeling his steely gaze away from the universe and focusing it on me. When I gazed up into those bright and burning eyes, I was overwhelmed by the beauty in them. He had seen so much beauty and so much pain, and I witnessed all of it every time we locked eyes. He continued, “I can still see him, and he misses you more than you know. He misses you with the same intensity as you miss him. He waits patiently for you, though, because he knows that it is not your time to reunite with him just yet. While he yearns for your company, you should see his joy. He has been reunited with his family, and when you meet your heroes end, you will be reunited with him as well. This doesn’t mean you should ignore your blessings while you are still among the living, though,” he explained, hinting at the one thing that I had not brought up, the one thing I refused to call attention to.

I still had not been home to see Aaldir. I had not mourned the death of Hjalmar with him, and instead, I forced him to mourn alone. I could not face him, knowing that it should have been me. Hjalmar was the only son he ever knew, and I knew that Aaldir would be devastated. I just didn’t know how to go home after this. I stared back out into the dazzling universe, desperately wanting to change the subject, “how are they?” I asked, knowing that Heimdall would understand my vague question.

“They are all in stable condition,” he answered as I felt his gaze shift from me and back out to the stars. It was as if he was watching them as he spoke, “Agents Barton and Romanoff have not left each other’s sides since New York, and they manage to keep each other stable. I think that Captain Rogers is handling it better than all of them, considering that he was still trying to rehabilitate himself when he was pulled back into the fight. Still, he is lonely and...isolated. I believe he could benefit from your company. Dr. Banner is also handling the stress well, but he has learned to master his own mind,” he added before letting out a deep sigh-something he usually did before mentioning Tony Stark, the man I always worried about the most. Not many people could see it and understand it, but Tony Stark was the embodiment of all that I held dear in my life, and when I saw his eyes after his fall from the wormhole, I couldn’t hold back my rampant protective instincts. Heimdall focused his attention back on me, “Stark is having a...difficult time coping with what happened, but he grounds himself in his work as much as he can. His state worries me the most, but I keep a close eye on him, as you requested, and I know to inform you if any of them are in danger.”

I gave him a curt nod, “thank you, Heimdall, not only for your council, but for taking on yet another responsibility just to appease me,” I remarked, my voice filled with gratitude for the man who was not only the Gatekeeper to my home, but also one of my dearest friends. I remained silent for a moment, not even a breath escaping my lips as I thought of the one person he failed to mention. I was unsure if it was to keep from hurting me or if-because the previous time he told me of her-I shed tears in front of him, which was something I rarely did. I gazed out at the beautiful universe and wondered if she was just as fond of the stars as I was or...if she was gazing up at them as well, our souls connecting through them for just a moment. I felt the tears rising in my eyes and the lump in my throat, “and what of her?” I asked, unsure of whether or not I truly wanted an answer.

One of his strong hands disconnected from his sword, and it grasped mine, calloused fingers wrapping around my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. My bottom lip quivered as I thought of her, of all the moments we shared before I did to her what Loki had done to me, “you did what was right, my lady,” that deep and smooth voice reminded me, “she is safe. She feels lonely-isolated-but she is safe, which was what you wanted for her. She knows not why she feels such sorrow and loss, but she doesn’t think of you...if that is any consolation,” he claimed, knowing that it was, “they miss you, Lady Eva. They all do. The people of Midgard still celebrate your courage to fight in New York, but the ones you fought beside know just how much the battle took from you. If they had a Watcher, they would be keeping a close eye on you, too,” he reminded me, “but you have others here who need you. I beg you to remember them as well.”

I choked back the tears as I gazed out across the Rainbow Bridge that led back to the beautiful city that surrounded the palace. I shook my head, ashamed that I had been so selfish to ignore the man who gave up his life to raise me, a man who had lost so much already. I let my guilt stand in the way of me supporting him, and I didn’t know how to go back after that. I tried to swallow back the lump in my throat before I spoke, “the problem is that I do not know how to return home. I know the way, but I do not wish to see the table my family once sat around, now with another empty chair. I do not wish to be in a silent room that had once been filled with his laughter. I cannot stand the thought of facing the man who raised me because I failed to protect his son!” I exclaimed, allowing a stray tear to fall.

“Never has there been a moment more tragic than when a goddess cries,” he murmured in a low voice as he reached out to wipe the tear from my cheek. I was no goddess, but I wouldn’t argue with him, not after my outburst, “are you not just as much Aaldir’s daughter as Hjalmar was his son?” he asked, pressing me to contemplate my reasoning for avoiding Aaldir, “you forget that he is the God of Mercy. Even if he harbored ill will toward you-which he never has-he has forgiven every mistake and every misdeed you ever have and ever will commit. Do not doubt his compassion and love for you, Lady Eva. Go to him. Mourn with him. Comfort him in the way only you can,” he urged me, resting his hand on my shoulder and giving it a light squeeze.

I nodded my head, knowing that he was right. He made too many valid points for me to refuse his council, “if anything changes on Midgard or with...her...just-”

He cut me off, “you will be the first to know,” he smiled, knowing what I always made him promise me that before I left. I only wished to protect the ones I regarded as friends. I knew that Loki’s actions left a lasting impact upon the Midgardians, especially the Avengers. While I knew they didn’t need me to watch out for them, I needed to do that for myself. They deserved all the protection I could offer them because they chose to spare Loki when they could have killed him. I owed them everything. Tony was the most deserving of every ounce of my protection, for he took on the greatest responsibility of them all.

Knowing that Heimdall would keep his word, I turned away from him and made my way down the rainbow bridge, wishing for anything to stop me from making it home. Every step I took was another step closer to the place house Hjalmar and I grew up in, another step closer to the woods we used to play in every morning as children, another step closer to realizing that he was gone and that all I had left were memories. I didn’t allow the tears to begin falling until I reached the secluded woods surrounding our home. I followed the long path Hjalmar and I used to stray from because he had a strong belief that “adventuring is what makes life fun.” As soon as I dried the tears shed because of a beautiful memory, another memory would resurface, and more tears would fall. It was a losing battle, and upon realizing that, I allowed the tears to flow freely and without shame in them.

As I reached the end of the trail, I finally saw the modest cottage. My legs froze, and it felt like I was unable to breathe. I closed my eyes, the tears that budded on my eyelashes finally spilling down my cheeks. A whirlwind of memories flooded my mind. I could remember when Hjalmar was chased by a wild boar, and I refused to let him in the house because he was dirty and would ruin the freshly cleaned floors. I could remember when I was scolded by Aaldir for playing with the wolves outside, but I would still sing to them and bring them the food scraps whenever I could. Hjalmar knew about it, but he never told our father of it. I could remember Hjalmar breaking one of the branches of a tree whilst trying to climb it, and I cried so much that he planted a new one just for me. I could remember when my father presented me with my first sword, Thunderguard, Hjalmar practiced with me all day. He had been the one to inspire the name, telling me that I would someday fight on the battlefield with the God of Thunder, and it would be my sword to protect him. Aaldir made all of our weapons on his own, and he was the one who saw to it that my current sword, the one he presented to me when I returned from my first battle, was crafted perfectly by the dwarves of Nidavellir.

“Go inside.”

Hjalmar’s voice was soft but sure, and there was not a question in my mind that it belonged to him. I knew that voice better than my own. My eyes shot open, and I whipped around, frantically searching for him only to realize that it was merely a disembodied voice. When I turned back around, I noticed that the door into my childhood home was ajar, and Aaldir stood in the doorway. He didn’t move a muscle, but I knew it was merely out of shock to see that I had finally come home. As soon as I saw those soft brown eyes, the ones I had looked into all my life, I broke down. I no longer cared about what I would find missing within the walls of my home, but all I needed was my father.

As I ran toward him, he closed some of the space between us, arms wide open and waiting for me. I crashed into his body, throwing my arms around his waist, and knocking him back. Immediately after his strong arms wrapped around my frame, I buried my face into his chest and let the tears flow. His left arm stayed locked around my waist while his right hand rubbed circles on my back to soothe me. His body trembled as he choked back his own emotions. He always reminded Hjalmar and I that a true warrior is not ashamed of his own sorrow but embraces it when the time comes. I knew that he was desperately trying to ignore his own emotions to comfort me, but he was failing quickly.

“I tried to save him, but...I couldn’t. It should have been me!” I sobbed, pieces of Hjalmar’s final moments flashing across my closed eyes. I gripped my father’s shirt tighter, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” I cried, allowing myself to fall apart with the knowledge that he was the first person I ever trusted to do that in front of. I crumbled, and he picked up all the shattered pieces and put me back together in time with his unconditional love.

He peeled me away from him just enough to cup my face with his calloused hands that had seen thousands of years of war. Those deep and haunting brown eyes were stern when he caught my gaze. Before he could speak, the tears fell down his cheeks and were caught in his brown beard that had begun to turn grey with age. He looked like a broken man in that moment, a man I had never seen before. Even when Hjalmar and I returned from battle, riddled with injuries, he never allowed us to see this side of him. Now, I saw him in such a different light. He was afraid. His eyes searched mine as he spoke, “I never want to hear you say those words again. I never want you to think that it should have been you!” he exclaimed, his voice deep and filled with emotion, “in a perfect world, I would have both of my children in my arms right now, and even though I have a pain in my heart where Hjalmar once was, I still have my little girl. I don’t want to think of what it would feel like to have lost both of you, and if I know anything about you, I know that you would have gotten yourself killed trying to protect him. The fact that you’re here right now tells me that there was nothing to be done to save him. You have nothing to be sorry for, Eva. You came back home to me, and this is where you belong,” he murmured, ignoring the tears on his cheeks to wipe away the tears from mine.

“He should be here, too,” I noted, pressing my face back to his chest.

He sighed that very particular sigh that a father used when he didn’t know how to fix the broken heart of his child. Aaldir had done that many times as I was growing up, and one of the last times he did it was when Loki had fallen from the bifrost. Loki had been just as much a son to him as Hjalmar. Aaldir always showed the trickster as much compassion and love as Odin should have. Where Odin failed to see Loki’s many talents, Aaldir celebrated him. I could remember moments when Odin was too busy watching Thor train that he would brush aside a hopeful Loki who had only wished to show him the new spell he learned. Aaldir, however, would sit for hours and listen to Loki talk about books, the stars, magic, Frigga, and...me. My father saw something in the young prince that not many others did, and he did his best to pull Loki to the light. I saw the sorrow in my father’s eyes when Loki fell, almost like he had lost a part of himself, too. For months, he comforted me as I cried myself to sleep, as I mourned the loss of my love, and I heard that same sigh. This time, it was because he couldn’t bring Hjalmar back. He could not fix my broken heart, but I knew that it would mean he would attempt to fill it with more love than ever before.

In one swift motion, he scooped me up into his arms, “I’ve got you, little wolf. Everything’s going to be okay,” he promised, and in that moment, I realized that even though I didn’t know how to return home, I had a father who would never give up on me. No matter how frightening the path may be or how dark it may seem, he would always find me and carry me home. I didn’t need to know the way.

*Thor’s POV*

Eva’s long brown hair cascaded over her body as I carried her through the halls of the palace with my mother in tow. Ephinea had talked Eva into accompanying her to the celebration of Hjalmar. It was a party thrown in honor of him. While I expected Eva to be in attendance, she was adamant that she would not be going when I invited her a week prior. However, when Ephinea asked her, she seemed to have a change of heart. I half-expected her to pay tribute to him with a song, but she drank the same way he used to. Perhaps, she was honoring him by remembering the way he lived, or she was drowning her sorrows in the ale he loved most. Either way, the night ended with her singing on top of one of the tables as everyone cheered her on. When I finally managed to coax her off of the table, she sat down on my lap and promptly fell asleep whilst the crowd continued singing and drinking.

That led us to this moment. I carried her down the hallways toward Loki’s chambers, knowing that she would feel most at home in there. She had finally spoken his name after quite some time refusing to do so. I knew that the loss of Hjalmar only made the problems with Loki even more tender. It only made her fight even harder for his freedom. While I knew my father would not budge on the subject, I also knew that Eva would not take “no” for an answer when it came to him. She would get him out of his cell one way or another. If I knew one thing about her, it was that she was more willful than anyone else I had ever met in my entire life. I took pity on any man who stood between her and the ones she loved. I would take pity on my father when the time came.

Upon reaching the doors that I had opened without invitation time and time again when I was younger, my mother pushed it open for me, allowing me the space to pass over the threshold with Eva in my arms. I walked her over to the bed, laying her body across the sheets she had slept beneath so many times before. While I knew not of the extent of their relationship, I knew that Eva would often find herself in Loki’s chambers in the early hours of the morning. The two would often sneak back to the palace after staying out late and watching the stars. Some nights, they would fall asleep beneath the night sky, and I would not see him until the next morning. There were also times when Aaldir would invite Loki into his home. I had received such invitations as well, but Loki and Eva had a special relationship that I’d never witnessed between two people before.

As soon as I laid her down onto the bed, the unconscious beauty grasped onto his pillow tightly, never once waking up. She curled up into the vast array of pillows and quickly became entangled in the bedsheets. I smiled at the similar view. I had witnessed it once before. Loki, Eva, and I came back after a night of celebration, and Loki offered his bed to her. Of course, she took up the offer, as Loki’s bed had an unnecessary amount of pillows, which she loved. He never had that many when we were young, but he built up quite the collection, and upon realizing that she loved a bed filled with pillows, he only added more. On that night, Eva had been so tired that she laid down in the bed, tossed and turned until she was comfortable, and when she finally found the perfect spot, she was as still and unmoving as a mountain. Loki and I had shared a laugh at that. It was one of the quirks I watched him fall in love with, and it was something that made me love her even more-she made my brother happy.

Mother stood in the back of the room by the door, but I couldn’t leave the side of the bed to join her. Instead, I could only stare down at Eva, reminiscing of a time we all knew peace. As I stood, gazing at the woman I had fallen in love with years ago, mother’s voice pierced the silence that fell, “she misses him. I can see it in her eyes every day,” she noted with a bittersweet smile as she watched Eva cling to the few things that reminded her of my brother. It was much more than just the pillows.

I turned to meet her eyes, but she was watching the sleeping girl. Eva was a princess if there ever was one, and I believed we could all see it. Soft and flawless sun-kissed skin was dusted with the smallest imperfections across her nose and cheeks. They were barely visible, but once you were close enough, they were all you could notice. They were like stars dusted across the night sky. They did nothing to take away from her beauty but added to it. There were her angular cheekbones that could cut through a man’s heart, and there was the thin slope of her nose. Her hair was dark like the eyes of her father, but what took every man and woman’s breath away were those eyes. They sat below full brows that came to a soft arch, and they were more brilliant than emeralds, a green that matched the colors of spring. Her eyes were without imperfections. No other colors dared to taint the purity of that green. Every time she looked at me, I was left speechless. While I admired their hauntingly beautiful glow, they were filled with so much melancholy that it made me want to cry. I had never seen a woman more beautiful than her, so beautiful that even her tears were stunning, falling like twinkling stars from the sky. They shimmered and sparkled, making it impossible for me to look away and respect her grief, which I had seen on countless occasions.

As my mother gazed upon the sleeping princess, I replied to her comment, “she’s been missing him for some time now. He abandoned her more than a year ago,” I scowled, thinking of how my brother could do something so selfish to someone who gave him everything she had to offer. She bore his burdens, and she lost everything for him. She made sacrifices for him that he would never know, and she gave him a gift he would never receive because of his stupidity and selfishness. She loved him, and he tossed her aside. I knew what led to his ultimate downfall, but...they could’ve run away together.

“You honestly believe that?” mother asked, sensing what I had been feeling, “if your father denied Loki of his happiness before, do you truly believe that he would allow them to run away together? Do you believe he wouldn’t search high and low for them? Do you have faith that he wouldn’t wage a war against your brother to get her back?” she asked, finally meeting my eyes. I shook my head, shame overcoming me for even thinking that it could’ve been so simple. I knew that my father had compassion for Loki, but it wasn’t love, not like the love he had for me. If he did, he would’ve agreed to Loki’s offer just to see him happy. It was why my mother felt so much sympathy for him. He found the one thing worth living for, and Odin denied him of simple happiness.

She motioned for me to join her at her side, “you say that she’s been missing him for so long because he abandoned her a short time ago, but she never abandoned him. She mourned him the same as we all did when he fell from the Bifrost. She was the first to go to Earth when she found out he was there, and she reached out to him to give him another chance. She was the last one to leave the throne room when he was being sentenced, and she was the first one who spoke out against your father, her king, in an attempt to free Loki into her care,” she reminded me of all the times Eva has refused to give up on a man who hurt her with such brutal vigor. On Midgard, it was like he hurt her for the fun of it, like he found joy in bringing her pain and suffering, but she continued to fight for him. Mother continued, “she’s seen what he has done, and it has terrified her. I’ve seen how it shakes her, how the fear rattles her bones. I know who and what she is, and I know that she sings the songs of life. Wherever she goes, life and nature thrive like never before. People are happy, the music is more beautiful, the flowers bloom even when it is not the season for them. She values life, and to see the man who means so much to her threaten that, it tears her apart and terrifies her. However, she still believes there’s a piece of him that is good, like he can still be saved. She misses the man he once was, and she misses the love they once shared. While he did abandon her some time ago, it’s harder now than ever before because he’s so close, but she cannot be near him,” she explained.

“He doesn’t care about her anymore, so she’d be better off if she did let him go,” I scowled, still tense and upset about what he did to her. While I knew that my feelings toward him were born out of my love for her, I tried to understand why he acted out. I didn’t know how I would react in his situation, so I tried not to pass judgement on my brother.

My mother cleared her throat, gazing back at the sleeping girl, “just like you would be better off if you let her go,” she remarked, reminding me that my behavior was just as unhealthy as I believed hers was.

I shook my head, “it’s different. I would treat her well!” I exclaimed, trying to make my mother understand that there would never come a day when I would try to hurt her. There would never come a day when I would lay my hands on her unless it was out of love. On Midgard, Loki broke his code of honor when it came to her. I had the most vivid memory of finding him on Midgard and finding out what he had done to her. Of course, he was swallowed by madness at that point, and her presence only drove him further into the abyss. I could remember the horrible things he said to her, words I wouldn’t even recall in my own mind because they were so vile. He destroyed her on Midgard, but he also surrendered because of her. The moment he realized what he was doing was brought upon by her showing him the same compassion she always had as she was on the brink of death, and she would have let it happen. She never fought him.

Mother’s voice pulled me from my own thoughts, “Loki believes the only way he can protect her is by sending her away. That’s why he pushed her away before he fell from the Bifrost and before he turned against you. He wanted to protect her. Is he misguided? Yes. Does he believe he is doing the right thing? I think so. Your brother is sacrificing the one thing he cares for just because he doesn’t want to taint something so good, and he believes that his presence brings pain. A handful of us watched Eva do the same not too long ago,” she stated, sorrow in her voice, “I know of no one who can simply stop loving a person, and you should be the first to know what that is like,” she murmured.

“My feelings for Eva aren’t what we’re talking about,” I reminded her, never feeling like it was right to delve into my most private emotions. I loved her, but that was a secret I would bring to my deathbed.

“Are they not?” she asked, furrowing her thin eyebrows. She reached between us and grasped my hands in hers, “I see the way you still look at her, my son. It’s the same way you used to look at her when the two of you were younger. She is still the object of your affection. You have tried your best to move on with this Midgardian girl, and you have tried to forget the feelings you harbor for Eva, but you have seen that it’s not that simple,” she said, mentioning my failed relationship with Jane. While I had feelings for the Midgardian woman, they were nothing compared to the feelings I harbored for Eva, and it was unfair for me to pretend like they were. I fancied other women-Ephinea and Sif-but I was still “hung up”-as Tony Stark would put it-on Eva. My mother’s slender fingers stroked the back of my hand as I thought of all the time I spent wishing for just one chance with Eva, but I would’ve never tried to take that away from Loki. I still wouldn’t. Mother’s voice cut through my own distress, and her words brought me some solace, “still, just as one cannot stop loving another, one cannot force themselves to love another. Eva harbors that love for only one person, and even though she tries to deny it, we’ve always known that he would be her undoing, and she would be his saving grace.”