#skurge/reader

[mlm-writer]

The Sorcerer Supreme, the Devil and Six Men (M!Reader x Multi)

Pairing: Cis!M!Bottom!Reader x Ray Palmer (LoT), Dick Grayson (my version), Peter Parker (TASM), Skurge (MCU), James T. Kirk (AOS), Lucifer (Lucifer) & Chris Smith (Peacemaker) Rating: Explicit Words: 2066 POV: Second Summary: Uhhh gangbang to save the multiverse and reader is Sorcerer Supreme of his universe. Note: Something I kept from last kinktober to really sit down for it. Tags: Multiverse gangbang, creampie, cum swallowing, light cumplay, blowjobs, double penetration, spitroasting, anal fingering, handjobs and some grinding.

Even if you would explain how you got yourself into this situation, you doubted anyone would believe you. You clenched your hands in the silken sheets below you, when Lucifer added a third finger to your hole. He stilled them inside you and ran a hand down your bare back. “Relax, my darling, I need to have you properly prepared for when our guests arrive.” You huffed and folded your arms in front of you so you could rest your forehead on them. 

“If you ask me, it’s pretty pathetic that the devil himself cannot give me enough sexual energy to save the multiverse,” you quipped, before shifting a little. Your cock was leaking all over the pillow Lucifer put under your hips. Lucifer chuckled and curled his fingers inside you. “Hey! No cheating!” You cried out as he rubbed that spot he had gotten to know all too well. You never should’ve started a situationship with the devil, but frankly being the sorcerer supreme from a universe where jackshit happened could be very boring. 

Just as Lucifer was about to make another smartass comment, a portal opened in front of you. You wanted to cover yourself, but Lucifer was ahead of you, draping a thin blanket over you below the waist, before sitting up on the bed. First to come through was Skurge, donned in his full armour. “Behold! The Sausage Party!” He announced, before extending his arm. Coming through were four familiar faces and one boy-scout looking man. His whole body language screamed ‘I am highly uncomfortable.’ 

“So which one of you do we need to stuff full of cum?” You lifted your head and snickered at the blunt question. Even though this Chris Smith was not from your universe, he had the exact same mannerisms and almost the same funny outfit as the one you knew in high school. Here was to hoping he could fuck like the Chris you knew as well. 

The other guys looked embarrassed at the question, with one of them even slapping Chris' arm. Even with his mask on, you recognised the face of the one who got away anywhere. You had always wished Dick Grayson and you had lasted, but the situation back then did not allow for it. Lucifer probably knew that, hence why his alter was standing before you now, clad in a tight suit that left little to the imagination, as he reprimanded Chris for his bluntness. If he was anything like your Chris, that slap did nothing to correct his behaviour. 

“As far as the gentleman explained, you should know everyone but me,” the boy-scout looking man said as he walked closer. His face was flushed, eyes avoiding yours. You took the hand he offered and shook it. “Ray Palmer,” he introduced himself. You studied his face, noting the pale skin that turned red so easily, the dreamy brown eyes and pullable-looking chestnut hair. 

He tried to take his hand back, but you held onto it. “And why are you here mister Palmer?” You questioned, fingers rubbing over his skin. From this close you could see his cute features in more detail. He looked around nervously and then muttered something under his breath. “When you’re in the presence of the Sorcerer Supreme, you should really speak up,” you teased him. 

“Yessir, I’m sorry uh…” You took mercy on him and let go of his hand. He straightened his back and looked around the room again. The portal he had come through was no more; he had nowhere to go. “You see it started with…” 

“He is the cause of all this, now let’s move on, before the multiverse is literally torn apart, shall we?” Lucifer interrupted. 

“Let’s commence!” Skurge shouted. Somehow he managed to get all his armour off without you noticing him undressing, his heavy cock hanging between his legs and swinging with each step he took towards you. Ray took a step aside, face red like a tomato. You reached out for Skurge’s thick cock and guided it towards your mouth. You looked over at Ray as you sloppily started licking and sucking on Skurge’s tip. When your eyes met, you gave the pale man a flirty wink.

Skurge was very vocal, praising you for your skill with comical lines that made sucking him off harder. You then felt warm hands at the edge of the blanket that was pooling at your waist. You looked over your shoulder right into bright blue eyes and a dashing smile. Oh you and James T. Kirk had your adventures in college. “May I?” He whispered, leaning close to tease your lips with his. The brief brush was enough to make you want him all over again.  

You let out a soft sigh before turning your head back around to suck Skurge off. “Do whatever you want to me, Jimmy boy,” you spoke breathlessly, before trying to take more than just the tip in your mouth. You heard Lucifer offer Jim some lube, after he had slowly dragged the fabric off your body. Jim put his cock between your cheeks, rubbing his slick cock between them and over your hole. 

You lifted your head off Skurge’s cock. You kept jerking him off as you turned your head to the side. You saw Dick Grayson on his knees, suit open a little so he could stroke his thick cock, while sucking off Peter Parker. “Hey Grayson! If you want to save the multiverse, his cum should be mine,” you scolded him. 

Dick chuckled, even when Chris shoved his cock in his face to get a turn too. “Just warming them up for you, sweetheart, don’t fret,” the man replied, before trying to deepthroat Chris’ huge meat. You rolled your eyes and went back to trying to do the same to Skurge. He stretched your throat, while Jim teased your hole. You heard Lucifer giving that Ray Palmer a warm-up, but Skurge was grabbing your head and using it like a fleshlight, so you could not watch. He held you down, cumming deep down your throat. You swallowed it all. 

You gasped when Skurge pulled out. You only got two breaths in, before Jim pushed deep inside you. You moaned, the sound growing louder when Chris grabbed your hair and tilted your head back. You stuck your tongue out as Chris stroked his cock right above you. Dick must have warmed him up good, because Jim did not even get to speed up, before Chris was spilling his load directly onto your waiting tongue. “Don’t swallow yet,” Dick told you as he shoved Chris to the side. A few seconds later, Dick’s load joined Chris’ in your mouth. Before you could swallow it, Peter was stroking himself in front of your face too. His hair was dishevelled and he looked down at you with reverence.  

You struggled with breathing as your mouth was full of cum and your ass full of Jim’s dick. You almost choked on the cum, when you felt a finger join Jim’s cock in your ass. “Lucifer, please, it’s tight enough,” Jim groaned as he continued fucking you at a leisurely pace. He was no longer being slow for your comfort, but he also wasn’t pounding you yet. 

“Get used to it, captain. Doctor Palmer would love to join you,” Lucifer mused. You whined, not sure if you dreaded having two cock in your ass or if you needed it on a spiritual level. Dick put his hand over your mouth, before telling you to swallow. It was hard with the way your body rocked and how aware you were of the cocks that just shot their load in your mouth but were still rock hard. 

Once your mouth was empty, Dick bent down and kissed you. You moaned into his mouth as Jim's cock and Lucifer's fingers were stretching out your ass. When Dick pulled away, you protested, but then a hand rested on your throat. "Just say stop if you want me to," Dick whispered in that soft, husky tone that made your cock weep. His fingers found their place and he pressed down, limiting the blood your brain was getting. 

Things got a little blurry from there. You tumbled into subspace, everything hazy and pleasurable and amazing. As if you were under a spell, your body relaxed and before you knew it, you were on your back, lying on top of Jim, while Ray's cute face hovered above you, both their cock stretching your ass open. Dick was beside you, hand on your throat and stroking Skurge with his free hand. Hands were all over you, one of them belonging to the devil scooping your cum off your stomach and massaging it into the flushed skin of your cock. 

Ray did not last long. Your hole was too tight for two cocks and when Lucifer used your cum to stick a finger inside him, it was over for the boy-scout. Through the haze of pleasure, you heard him shout. You mewled as Chris was being especially rough with your nipples, pulling and pinching. After Ray pulled out - spent - Lucifer joined Jim inside you. 

You gasped at the stretch, not knowing whose cock entered your mouth as soon as it was wide open. It didn’t matter. Your ass was stretched to the limit. Your throat was full of cock as well and you still felt the gentle pressure right below your jaw. You didn’t stand a chance against another orgasm coming over you like a wave crashing on the shore. To make matters worse, a pair of lips wrapped themselves around the tip of your cock, sucking the cum out of you and not letting go until you were crying from overstimulation. 

The cock in your throat spilled more cum inside you, before pulling out. You then saw it was Peter all along. You wouldn’t have guessed by how innocent he looked right after violating your oesophagus. You could not dwell on that thought. Dick came into your line of vision and his hand moved from your throat to your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. He spit your cum onto your tongue, then commanded you to swallow it. 

You were no longer capable of thought, swallowing any cum that landed in your mouth, even Jim’s, who bred your hole and right after put you in Lucifer’s lap so he could fuck your throat, giving you a good taste of your own ass and the mixture of cum that was in there right now. You lost track of who was releasing their load when and how often in which hole; it didn’t matter. 

By the time the men were spent, your cock was limp and incapable of getting hard again for a long time. The haze of pleasure slowly cleared from your brain as Skurge forcibly removed Chris from the premises and back into his own universe. You scrunched your face, then looked up at who was holding you like a baby. Bright blue eyes and a gentle smile looked down at you. You smiled back and leaned your head against Jim’s shoulder. “How do you feel?” Jim almost whispered. You looked around, noticing how almost everyone looked like they ran a marathon naked. Dick gave you a dopey smile from where he sat on the floor sipping on a bottle of water. Ray was the only one wearing underwear, which you noticed when he came up to you to offer you a bottle as well. You thanked him and took it. You moved off Jim and sat up, so you would not spill it everywhere. 

When the exhaustion settled, Lucifer approached you in full suit with an outstretched hand. “Shall we?” He offered with his signature smile. You handed Jim the bottle and gave a nod. You stood up, feeling cum dripping down your legs, but also the energy you have been given coursing through your chakras. 

“Let’s end this,” you spoke with determination, before you took the devil’s hand. A portal opened in front of you. A skimpy outfit that barely covered you up and definitely did not hide the cum stains drying on your body materialised on you. One last deep breath and Lucifer led you through the portal to your destiny. Let’s see what the sexual energy of the sorcerer supreme, the devil and six men could do.

____________________

IF YOU ENJOY MY WORK AND WANT TO TRICK ME INTO WRITING MORE, REBLOG. THAT IS HOW YOU KEEP BLOGS LIKE MINE ALIVE. (and you get a mental kiss on the mouth if you leave a comment too, even if it is just WDNIEFBEILFWEIDJ)

[angelremnants]

HIS FOR THE SEASON l L. Laufeyson

CHAPTER ONE,⠀The Price of Pride

chapter summary : In the first installment of our ever-tangled tale, we find both our fair protagonist and the mischievous prince at the crossroads of deception and ambition. As deals are struck and masks are donned, dear readers, be warned that not all that glitters is gold, and not every promise comes without a price.

pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

warnings : Mature (16+), implied oral gratification (male receiving), emotional turmoil, light violence, referenced/implied minor characters' death, mind games, mild language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 6.7k

author's notes : Here is the first chapter! I'm honestly so hyped to start writing for this series, but unfortunately I still have to pass my midterms, so the second part might not come as soon as this one.

For a referential point in this story, 1125 years old in Asgardian years is the equivalent of being 18, and 1315 years old would be being 21.

(ao3 version)

⠀

⠀

The road was a serpent of stone and shadow that wound through the untamed countryside beyond the capital's reach. It curled between towering pines with aged branches grasping at the sky and their gnarled roots engulfing the ground below. The air was humid with the promise of rain, dense with the aroma of fir and wet soil, and as the rider moved forward, the storm gathered on earnest—low thundering rumbling in the distance, acting as suggestive caution of his arrival rather than a danger.

No one traveled this road without purpose.

He didn't need a map to know where it led. He had unfortunately been there before, but the years between visits had thinned them out until they scarcely existed at all. However, the pathway remained undisturbed through and through, like the passage of time hadn't dare to touch it.

The first peek of the estate was a sensation rather than a sight—an eerie change in the surroundings, as the sought-after structure then appeared from the increasing mist, like a specter out of the gloom.

A castle of black stone, wreathed in foliage and partially swallowed by the encroaching wood. It stood apart from the rest of the world, unfettered by court or crown regulations, its mere presence a tacit defiance. At the threshold, the gates were ajar, twisted iron molded into fascinating designs, as if warning invaders of what could lay within. There were no guards, no showcasing of banners or sigils indicating its allegiance. 

The traveler did not slow down. His patience had run thin even before he reached the gates, as seen by the continual readjusting of his gorgeous golden hair, withering in the bleak atmosphere. The journey had been quite lengthy, but not as long as the years of silence that had separated him from the owner of this location.

He dismounted his stallion with practiced grace, and despite the bold statement of his presence, the house did not greet him. There were no servants or movement at the windows—only the uncanny serenity that had come to define this place of residence. His boots sank onto the damp earth, slippery from the distant rain, but he ignored the unease. After all, he had not come here for comfort.

Only when he approached the entry did the doors part open, revealing a figure framed by the sallow luminosity of candlelight. The head butler stood by, as immovable as the granite around him.

"Your Highness," Skurge greeted, mitigating the sound of hesitant recognition. "My master is not expecting you."

Thor exhaled through his nose, his frustration like a slow-burning ember. "I will see him regardless."

The retired warrior did not flinch. "My lord—"

"Enough," The prince cut him off, brooking no argument as he stepped past him without dispute.

Skurge sighed softly but did not stop him. It was an old battle that they had fought numerous times before. He had long since realized that denying entry to Thor was a futile attempt. His weary and knowing stare stayed set on the royal attendant as they both marched farther inside the building.

The stronghold's splendor consumed him whole. Velvet draped like falling dusk over the high-arched windows, reducing the outside world to nothing but a memory. Sconces emitted a warm glow that danced across the dark marble and mahogany, catching on the ornate paintings and carvings of mythical beasts, gods and beings. The smell in the room was laden with incense and wine, almost tied into the very foundation of the building. 

This was not a house of duty. It was a house of indulgence.

With each step, he felt the burden of his task on his shoulders. He had not come for a visit—rather, it was an intrusion. He did not belong here, and neither did his brother.

Skurge finally came to a halt in front of a hefty wooden door that, like the manor, appeared to preserve mysteries within its frame.

"He is inside," the housekeeper quietly announced in a way that hinted that he had witnessed this confrontation countless times already. The blond did not respond, simply pushing the door open, the hinges creaking with an aloofness that matched his own.

And immediately regretted it.

The air within was fragrant with an intoxicatingly faint mix of floral and musky. The room was barely illuminated, only emphasazing on the plush bedding and velvet pillows. A fire crept lazily into the hearth, pouring its warmth over tangled limbs, silk-strewn furnishings, and a scene of pleasure the guest did not want to see.

And in the heart of it all—a man clothed in carefree grace, with dark locks ruffled and keen green eyes lifting up to lazily gaze toward the door. A woman knelt before him, her head lowered and her hands resting on his thighs in an act that left little to the imagination.

Thor recoiled, his expression twisting in disgust. “By the Norns—”

Unconcerned, the man turned his head, peering at him with twisted amusement that showed in a smirk so languid. It was clear that the interruption did not even faze him.

"Ah, brother," Loki drawled in a honey-smoothed voice, his eyes glittering with delight. "What a nice surprise. Are you coming to join us?”

Thor glared at him. "Seize your rascality and compose yourself."

The dark prince, on the other hand, was never content with silent compliance. His lips curved, teasing at the edges, mocking innocence. With a languid sweep of his fingers, he waved the woman away.

"Go on, pet," he murmured in a deeper undertone. His fingers knotted in the woman's hair, allowing him to easily lift her head. "We will resume our—" his eyes flicked towards his brother, "—conversation later."

The courtesan pouted and slipped away with a lingering brush of fingers over his knee, her silhouette disappearing through the softly shut door that sealed them in.

Loki groaned and stretched like a cat roused from sleep. He stood with a worrying ease, completely unhurried as he fixed the loose buttons on his tunic. "You've become such a bore," he mused, rolling his shoulders, mockingly disappointed. "Had you walked in centuries ago, you might have actually been inclined to join me."

Thor's glare darkened. "And yet you wonder why our father sees you as a disgrace."

Loki smiled in a sluggish, knowledgeable leer. "Oh, I no longer wonder."

He smoothed down his sleeves and carefully adjusted the cuffs before moving toward the magnificent cabinet on the wall. He took out a crystal decanter of mead, the amber liquid reflecting in the firelight as he poured himself a large drink. 

Not once did he glance in Thor’s direction. He never treated him with the same courtesy. Instead, he raised the cup to his lips and took a leisurely, savoring sip, seemingly not caring about the tension hanging between them. Then, only after swallowing did he speak.

"Now," he voiced, swirling the mead in his glass, his eyes bright with laughter. "Tell me, dear brother, what I owe the pleasure to. Another warning? A lecture, perhaps?" He inclined his head, pretending attention. "Do you intend to recount my many misdeeds, as if I am not already aware?"

His brother exhaled sharply to steady himself. "Not this time. I came for another reason."

Loki arched his brow. "Do tell."

Thor's fingers curled along his sides. He had expected resistance, not such carelessness. This was not the brother he had previously known. The brother who had formerly measured every step with care and sought praise no longer stood before him. In his place stood a creature of indulgence and disobedience, a terrifying figure honed and shaped by unwarranted exile.

But for all his decadence, Loki had never been a fool.

“You are to return to the palace.”

The host’s sneer remained constant, although the light behind his eyes flickered for a brief moment. A brief, almost inconspicuous shift.

He laughed, bellowed even.

Thor tightened his grasp on Mjölnir, the hammer's familiar weight both reassuring and frightening in his hand. His knuckles turned white, and the veins in his arm tightened in an effort to contain his mounting rage. This was not the reunion he had hoped for—but, truth be told, he hadn't really expected anything else from his brother.

"Your presence has been requested at the court," he insisted, each word bearing the heft of obligation and haste. "It is time."

Across the room, Loki's smile contorted sardonically. With a sinuous flick, he sent the last drop of mead spiraling from his cup, allowing it to fade into the shadows as he laid the vessel down with exaggerated disregard. 

"Requested my presence?" he repeated. "How quaint. Let me guess, should I expect greater condemnation? Another lecture on my failings?" He leaned back in his chair, the scowl on his lips growing greater in depth. "Is that why you rode all the way here? To offer the customary refrain?" His cold, mocking gaze never left Thor's, challenging him to prove him wrong.

"This isn't another lecture on your reckless behavior," the crown prince bargained, exasperated but determined. "This is about your title."

At those words, the raven-haired stiffened, his eyes flashing with incredulity. “The one you so kindly withheld because of my exile, you mean? The one I was deemed too… troublesome to receive, while you paraded your birthright before all of Asgard?” His voice was sharp as a drawn blade, every syllable dripping with scorn. “I’m past the age of 1125, you know that well enough. It’s too late to rewind time and add the fanfare and ceremony you so cherish. I have no need of it.”

Thor's chest clenched at his cruel words, but he was undeterred. He needed to make him see reason, if only for a moment. "It's not just that," he ground out, the tension in his voice palpable. "It's about what our father intends to do, and you—"

“Your father,” Loki spat, as though the very qualification felt like venom on his tongue. “Not ours. Do not speak of him as if he ever cared about me."

Thor's mouth dried up, and he couldn't help but feel a stab of remorse. But there was no time to dwell on it now. “It’s not just the title, Loki. It’s... a deal.” his voice dropped. “Father wants to strike a deal with you.”

For a long moment, the second prince regarded his elder with amused disbelief that failed to mask his calculating gaze. “A deal?” he echoed. “And what, pray tell, could he possibly offer that would capture my interest at this late hour?”

Thor’s hand twitched by his side as he fought against the torrent of words threatening to overwhelm him. Inwardly, he cursed the inevitable vulnerability that came with speaking the truth.

“It’s about the will.”

Time seemed to stand still at the statements. Loki ceased to move as though struck by an invisible force. It was a genuine reaction, with his eyes reflecting an image of the youngster he once was. But the shock passed as fast as it arrived, replaced by the gravelly resolve of a man who had long forsaken hope. "The will is no longer of my interest," Loki flatly responded. "Why should I care for his proposal now?"

“I never thought you would, Loki.” The blonde exhaled slowly. “I think you should hear him out. Do it at least this once, and I promise we’ll leave you free of these constant intrusions.”

Loki’s gaze bore into his, seeking any flicker of deceit or ulterior motive. Finding none, an unspoken understanding passed between them—a fragile bridge over a chasm of past grievances and present imperatives.

“Fine,” he agreed at last, a trace of genuine curiosity mingling with his ever-present defiance. “I’ll hear him out. But do not mistake my interest for hope.”

Thor’s weary yet steadfast eyes met his brother’s with a silent promise. “I never would.” 

His eyes traced every disorganized detail of Loki's appearance, which was far from the polished princeling he had previously grew up with. His dark hair fell in wild, tangled cascades around his face, and his once impeccable clothes hung in crumpled disarray, as if burdened by a sorrow too great to be contained.

"You look as though you've abandoned even the last shred of dignity," Thor indicated sorrowfully, the words flowing out before he could catch them. "I'd wager she would be disappointed if she were still here to witness this."

He knew his words shattered the fragile peace, and he promptly regretted uttering them, knowing all too well the tragic history that laid behind this pitiful façade.

In an instant, Loki's eyes flared with terrible enmity. He rose from his chair with the predatory elegance of a cornered animal and rushed toward the envoy. In one swift action, the dark prince grabbed his arm, his hold alluding to an implicit warning built over years of suffering and indolence

"Do not speak so idly," he growled alarmingly, in the fashion of a wintry wind. His fingers sank sharply into Thor's flesh. "You would do well not to invoke her again—especially when you know nothing of what transpired."

The blonde stiffened under his grasp, his stare locking with his in a quiet exchange rich with old wounds and buried truths. For a long, tense moment, they stood there—two souls bound together by blood and remorse, their shared history a shaky bridge over a chasm of pain.

Loki finally let go of him, moving back with a controlled calm that concealed his smoldering despair. "We'll go to the palace tomorrow," he stated calmly and dismissively. "Until then, see to it that Skurge assigns you a place for the night. And send the maiden back inside."

Thor halted, but he knew better than to press on. His brother's barriers were too high, and his resistance was too strong. "Understood," he replied, the resignation in his voice combined with the residual pain of loss. "I'll make the arrangements."

He paused only briefly before turning and heading out of the bedroom, his footsteps retreating down the corridor. The door closed behind him with a faint, decisive click, leaving Loki to his own devices.

The silence that followed felt like a heavy blanket pressing from all sides, saturating the entire space with concealed facts. The shunned prince resided stationary, his gaze fixed on the dark horizon visible through the small window panels. Outside, the night stretched out in a never-ending palette filled with ambiguity and impending possibilities. His thoughts were entwined in knots—of the palace, of his contested title, of the Allfather's aspirations, and of the storm that threatened to come tomorrow.

⠀

⠀

The hippodrome was saturated with incense, a perfumed fog that curled through the towering hall and melded with hushed exchanges and muffled sobs. Draped in somber shades of black and violet, the grand chamber exceptionally bore the sigil of House of Sigvard in golden embroidery upon the banners that swung gently from the pillars. It was an extravagant farewell, one meant for a nobleman of once-great stature, though the weight of his transgressions loomed like a silent specter over the gathered mourners.

You stood at the center of it all, clad in mourning robes of midnight silk, your hands gracefully clasped before you in a practiced pose of grief. Condolences flowed in a delicate stream of soft, sorrowful words from nobles who pitied you and empty gestures from those who secretly rejoiced in the slow and continuous decay of your house’s legacy.

“He was a man of duty,” one of your uncle’s acquaintances lamented barely audibly above the solemn dirge.

“A great loss,” another added with feigned regret.

You nodded, lips pressed into a trembling smile as your eyes shimmered with unshed tears that caught the flicker of candlelight. When the final rites were called, the assembled crowd parted with solemn efficiency, leaving you alone before his final resting place—your last remaining close kin. The casket laid upon a raised dais, framed by flickering torches that cast dancing shadows upon its polished wood, awaiting its fate to be consumed by flame.

Each step you took toward it was in sync with the steady rhythm of your breath. At its edge, you bent down, letting your fingertips trace the smooth grain of the wood as though you sought to commit every ridge and curve to memory. Leaning close, you let your lips ghost near his ear, your voice barely more than a whisper in the hush of the hall.

"May your next life be as wretched as this one was undeserved."

Then, with a tenderness that belied the venom in your words, you pressed a soft kiss to his cold forehead—a farewell infused with a bitterness far removed from true grief.

You straightened with grace before turning and rejoining the front lines, harboring a flawless mask of quiet devastation. Behind you, the ceremonial flames were kindled, and soon the fire took hold. A collective, solemn gasp rippled through the assembly as the casket was engulfed, the scent of burning incense giving way to a harsher, acrid tang that stung the senses.

Tears traced glistening paths down your cheeks as you watched the funeral pyre, each flicker of flame reflecting memories of a once-honorable past. For a long and silent juncture, you remained rooted to the spot, witnessing the send-off until the last embers shuddered and died.

The guests began to gradually drift away in final bows and a mumblage of sympathies fading into the chill of the night, until at last only you and your company remained in the desolate quiet of the burial grounds.

A soft cough shattered the welcomed stillness. “My lady?”

You turned around and revealed your once-tear-stained face being carefully composed, with every trace of feigned grief meticulously erased.

“Elva, please fetch me a handkerchief,” you declared, your voice steady and low. “And go ready the carriage.”

Your ever-faithful maid complied without hesitation, retrieving a pristine silk tissue and placing it gently into your outstretched palm. You brought it to your lips first, dabbing them before using it to carefully wipe your face.

Elva’s eyes widened momentarily. “My lady, why did you—” she began, then faltered, her voice a mere whisper. “Why your lips?”

You folded the handkerchief in a neat fold, tucking it away in your palm like a secret too precious for the light.

"Well, I shouldn't afford to leave noxious substances so carelessly on my lips now, should I?” you lightly chipped, tilting your head in private delight. 

You approached one of the liberated flames from the funeral pyre’s dying glow and threw unceremoniously the ruined fabric. The hanked reacted immediately to the contact—an almost unnoticeable sizzle resounded as its edge curled with unnatural speed into ash, erasing any trace of its presence.

Elva’s lips parted in realization as if to offer further counsel, but no words came—only a respectful silence as she bowed her head and hastened toward the waiting carriage. You stepped after her at an unhurried pace, the ghost of your smirk lingering like a promise of the plans yet to be set in motion.

The carriage door closed with a firm click, sealing the both of you inside the dimly lit interior. Without hesitation, you surged for the nearest window and pulled down its heavy velvet curtain, ensuring that no fragment of the outside world might enter on your personal sanctuary. The cabin was warm and quiet, acting as a cocoon where covert revelations might be shared without the jeopardy of inquisitive ears. You carefully secured each window one by one, an exacting process that the brunette quietly observed, her gloved hands lying demurely in her lap.

Only when the last curtain was drawn did you nestle into the soft seat. You exhaled deeply, as if relieving the pressure of a lifetime in one long, slow breath. Outside, the repetitive clatter of hooves against cobblestone blended with the night's silence. Through a narrow rip in the fabric, you watched the vast sacred building fade into darkness, a mere outline absorbed by the small municipality's tortuous highways.

After a long, reflective interval, Elva's kind voice shattered the quiet. "What are you going to do now, my lady? Seeing that you're free?"

You let out a deep, almost languid sigh, one of odd comfort rather than grief. "I've already begun," you remarked. "The furniture is being sold, piece by piece, and most of the staff have been let go."

Elva's posture tensed as she blinked, recognition dawning in her eyes. "Then that would mean..."

Your lips curled with a faint, knowing smile. "Yes, you have been promoted to the position of head maid."

After a minute of calm acceptance, Elva nodded softly. "That should secure our future, along with the savings you've so discreetly accumulated," she answered nervously. "It was fortunate that your uncle was ill enough in his final years to entrust you with managing the household's resources."

“Fortunate indeed,” you mused, a wry note lacing your words. “Though I doubt he ever meant for me to wield it to my own advantage.”

Elva fell silent for a heartbeat before asking with an almost timid curiosity, “Why not sell the estate as well?”

A distant chuckle escaped you, devoid of genuine mirth. "That house is the only reminder of my childhood. I spent my happiest days there," you mused, your mind drifting as memories surfaced. "I am sure you remember the swing that my father built for me among those old pear trees. I can still recall my mother's standing nearby in case I fell. In the end, I had to regrettably sell it."

Your maid regarded you with a blend of understanding and pity, but offered no further words.

You exhaled through your nose, the corners of your mouth softening into a wistful line. “No matter. I’m certain no one would dare engage in dealings with an estate burdened by such a dismal reputation.”

A profound inertia fell between you, interrupted only when Elva spoke once more. "Did you even sell the portraits?"

You shifted your sight to the curtained window, your face unreadable in the flickering shades. "I couldn't," you confessed with a rare vulnerability. "Some things... are too cherished to be relinquished to strangers."

The rest of the route was spent in thoughtful silence, with the city gradually disappearing as the vehicle transported you home. Finally, the estate's imposing gates emerged in the pale moonlight, and the horses halted, the carriage slowly grinding to an end.

As you reached for the door handle, Elva shifted uncomfortably. “You have no guardian now, my lady,” she reminded you in a hushed tone. “And you remain a bachelorette, at that. How do you intend to proceed?”

Stepping out into the cool air, you smoothed the folds of your mourning dress and turned to face her. “How else?” you replied, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth as clear ambition sparkling in your eyes. 

“I’m going to marry rich. Obviously.”

⠀

⠀

The streets of Asgard have never felt colder as they did tonight. The pavement, slippery with twilight mist, glistened beneath your measured tread and lead you through a region of the city you used to avoid. Lanterns sputtered in the heavy darkness, their meager radiance generating wavering shadows that danced maliciously at the borders of your view. This was not the Asgard you remembered—it was bright, resplendent, and full of pomp and color. No, this was the underbelly of a fading realm, where houses' facades crumbled like brittle paper and wealth remained a faraway dream.

You walked with careful intention, each step resounding on the damp cobblestones. In the back of your mind, Elva's gentle query from yesterday's evening lingered. 

"My lady, why suddenly... this wish?" Her worry was evident, a compassionate spark in the midst of your anguish, when you announced your intention to enter the marriage market. It was a decision made out of necessity, not whim, and one that became increasingly urgent with each passing day.

She was positive that you, of all people, would never debase yourself by engaging in such a banal and ignoble transaction. But surely she was aware of your golden cage, of the days spent imprisoned in the decaying confines of your family's home where sycophantic suitors bargained for your attention as if it were a valuable commodity. Pathetic men of low ranks and even simple commoners, dressed in the finest of what they could afford and bursting with fake admiration, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. They were eager, preening before you as if you were the sun that centered their entire world.

Once, you were untouchable.

Your household name had echoed through every banquet hall and noble ceremony, a jewel in the illustrious diadem of House Sigvard. As the daughter of one of Asgard's most powerful families, you were admired for your grace, brilliance, and wit. You had smoothly presided over your mother's salon, the centerpiece of high society, where the elite eagerly awaited your insights on courtly issues, the latest political intrigues, and the scandalous whispers of the realm. Every word you spoke was valuable as gold.

You'd been at the top.

And what of now? You walked these dour alleys like a phantom of your previous self. Your uncle's reckless expenditures had consumed the once-glorious fortune, leaving nothing but sallow ruins. Gambling. The wretched man threw away everything—your family's name, your inheritance, and the future you had once hoped for. When the payments came due, he callously sold your numerous assets, which included your beloved mother's salon, to satisfy his creditors' voracious appetite. You could still picture it vividly in your mind, the day the "sold" sign was hammered into the front yard, along with the harsh laughing of vultures as they swept away the final vestiges of your inheritance.

It was an insult you could never forgive.

That bastard. 

You clutched your fists as a stringent laugh from your lips and echoed off in the lengthy road. "Idiotic rule," you mumbled beneath your breath as you thought of the oppressive law requiring noblewomen to stay under the custody of their male relatives. Such a horrible charade. 

Fortunately, you had no brother to protect you, no distant cousin prepared to challenge the status quo. The few remaining relatives were either too old or already comfortably ensconced with their own fortunes to give a damn. Had your name retained its former glory, they would have fought like starving lions to claim the scraps of you and your estate.

The edifice in front of you resembled an inn at best, its stone walls weathered and pitted from the unrelenting passage of time and neglect. A sprinkling of weakly reflective windows on the higher floors glowed like feeble stars, giving only the sensation of a long-forgotten place, a hollow echo of a purpose that had once existed.

You pushed open the hefty door and walked inside. The smell stale ale, charred wood, and a faint scent of something metallic mixed in a suffocating haze of smoke straightaway assaulted your nostrils. A faint drone of conversations, accented by the odd clink of chipped glass, emanated from the few figures slumped over tattered tables. It was a dramatic contrast to the sumptuous salons of the past, where laughing sounded like music and every word was dressed in polished beauty.

This decomposing hideaway was your destination—a place where answers may be found among the private matters of people who thrived in the dark. Your torn cloak, nevertheless rich in color, was your only protection against inquisitive scrutiny. Here, you appreciated the anonymity it afforded. Being a faceless, nameless wanderer in these forsaken streets was a small comfort in that abandoned world.

You walked to the far end of the room, where a weathered wooden bar stood under the careful eye of a broad-shouldered bartender. As you neared, his face flickered up, marked with the lines of long nights of hard work. You feigned to fix your cloak, taking care not to reveal your features.

"Anything I can get for you?" he asked in a gravelly tone.

You paused before conspiraciously leaning in. "A glass of the Red Eel," you whispered softly, allowing the words to install themselves.

The bartender's hands stopped mid-polish, his eyes narrowing as a spark of recognition flared inside them.

"The bathroom is two rooms down the corridor, on the left. Be quick," he nodded towards the aisle.

A contented smile traced on your lips. "Thank you," you answered calmly before leaving the bar behind. You crept into the small corridor, the inn's muted sounds fading into a distant cacophony. You soon discovered the small door that went to the so-called bathroom, enclosed in peeling wallpaper and illuminated by a single, flickering light overhead.

You shut the door after you, allowing yourself a moment of calm satisfaction. The excitement of being so near your goal sent shivers down your spine—a delicate blend of yearning for rebirth and desperate hope.

You stepped into the narrow room, where the dim glow of a solitary candle revealed a large desk set in the center of an alcove at the far end of the room. The desk was sinister, made from dark oak and marred by age. Its surface was crowded with parchment scraps, old books, and assorted trinkets, all of which had been neglected to accumulate dust. Behind the desk stood a gaunt man with eyes like chipped flint, his face shrouded by the half-light. 

"What brings a stranger to our door?"

You straightened, readying yourself for the next battle of wills to come. "My intentions should be obvious," you coolly replied. "After all, this is the most renowned informational guild in the city—a sanctuary of secrets for those who truly need them."

He chuckled, a dry sound that echoes in the gloom. "Indeed. But we do not entertain any clients who come so freely." He gestured for you to approach the desk with an appraising stare and greedy eyes shining through the dark.

You obeyed without hesitation, your footsteps echoing faintly as you made your way toward him. "Precisely because I know that, I am here," you asserted, producing your family crest from within the folds of your garment and placed the emblem on the scarred surface of the desk.

The man's eyes widened as he inspected the proud and intricate design bearing the insignia. A slow, humorless laugh escapes him. "What a joke, for the House of Sigvard falling so low to be seen here," he scoffs. "The Grand Marshal's legacy has truly reached the very depths of Hel. 

He shook his head as if almost in disbelief. “Tell me, Sigvarddóttir, why should we even be interested in your demand when you hail from a house that now holds little value?"

Your gaze sharpened and you remained still, not fliching at his attempt to undermine—you knew better than to let his words wound you. "Because, as you yourself noted, House of Sigvard was a bastion of prestige for centuries until it fell into unworthy hands," you countered. "I am of the blood of that esteemed lineage, the direct descendant of an union between the most praised ex-lady in waiting for the Allmother herself as well as one of the most strategic and intelligent war scholars our realm has been blessed with. Naturally, I have inherited those qualities."

The man arched an eyebrow, his smile turning wry. "Inherited, perhaps," he conceded. "But let us not forget the disgrace your house was sealed with when your father was accused of treason and of leaking the kingdom's most confidential secrets. A legacy tarnished beyond repair."

The informant looked at you with narrowed eyes, feeling that beneath your calculated façade lurked a secret weight far larger than desperation. You decided to comply and prove his hunch was right by reaching within the folds of your cloak and pulling out a purse. Its contents clinked softly in an exquisite symphony of gold coins and tiny gems, each one a relic of the richness that once established your ancestry. You carefully opened the pouch, allowing the gold and stones to stream over the desk's scarred surface.

But it was not all.

Added to the funding, you set a little book sheathed in a leather cover that had split with age. Marked on its pages were precise notes written in your own hand, a record of secrets acquired over years of patient observation. This book was your weapon, the result of decades spent documenting the illegal activities of people who had betrayed your family. You had kept it buried for fear of the consequences of revealing it, but now was the moment to wield its terrible truth.

The man's gaze shifted between the bag and the book, his interest evidently piqued.

"I'm positive," you stated, "that my father was framed. And I can prove it—with time, money and power." You watched his lips move to speak, but you lifted your hand to silence him. "But for now, what matters is this." You tapped the book lightly. "In these pages are the names of every shady noble my uncle gambled with—the very ones who collaborated with him to dishonor my family's reputation. Their schemes, deceptions, and cover-ups. These are the architects of House of Sigvard's demise."

You leaned forward, your eyes locking onto his with fierce intensity. "I know that your guild despises the crown's myriad laws. They flaunt their wealth and defy every decree. Releasing this information, especially when most concerns imperialist nobles, would shake high society to its very core. And you know it."

A heated silence ensued, laden with the promise of upheaval. The man then let forth a rich, hearty laugh stirring the dust in the dim light.

"By the Allfather," he vociferated in both admiration and menace. "You really are the daughter of Sigvard and Regna, to speak so boldly." His eyes glittered in a blend of curiosity and a tinge of an unsettling look. "Very well, girl. Tell me, what do you want from us?”

You inhaled quietly to calm your nerves, keeping your grip protectively curled around the purse and the book. The man's dark gaze pierced into you, anticipating your next words and the price you would set.

"I want your help," you bid carefully. "I will gradually pay you in coins and reveal names when I'll come to seek your assistance. Presently, I request your aid regarding two issues."

His eyes glinted with interest, prompting you to deliver the next words with purpose and careful arrangement.

"Firstly, I want you to remove the allegations and evidence of tax evasion that my uncle have tarnished my house's reputation with. Clear my reputation in the eyes of the crown, so that the gossip can stop." You paused, letting the weight of the request settle between you. 

"I will also need a list of future bachelors. I need the names of individuals who are wealthy, of impeccable stature, and untainted by nefarious relationships. These individuals must have enough caliber to be able to keep my distant relatives at bay should they seek to claim what I am and what I own, and they have to allow me to develop sa business of my own by using their riches and influence should it be necessary."

The candle's flame trembled in the silence of the room, its feeble glow stretching enough to let you perceive the man reclining in his dilapidated chair that protested with every tiny movement. 

“Very well,” he pronounced resolutely, as if the verdict had been sealed in his mind long before the words escaped his lips. “You will receive a pigeon carrier during the following few days to deliver the information you have requested. Regarding the remainder of your requests, I will make every effort to assist you as soon as you deem it necessary. You have my word.”

A slow nod was your only reply, as the gravity of the agreement pressed upon you like a stone sinking in dark water. With the deal inked in the silent contract between your eyes, you reached for the small, leather-bound book that lay between you. The book’s spine creaked in protest as you opened it, your fingertips caressing its jaundiced pages and you swiftly tore out a single page.

The crisp sound of paper severing its bond with the rest of the book was startling in the impendation, a punctuation to the gravity of the occasion. You laid the page  before him, bearing a list of names—each scrawled letter a testament to your resolve and the fate of those who had wronged you.

“Here,” you piped, betraying nothing of the tumult that churned beneath the surface. “Consider this a preview. This will only be the beginning.” Your fingertips brushed the cool edge of the parchment as you withdrew your hand.

His searching eyes roamed the list, a subtle spark of malevolent glee igniting in their depths. No words were needed, the silent acknowledgment passed between you both was enough. You then released the contents of your pouch, of which jangled softly as you set it beside the page. 

“As promised,” you declared, your tone final. You cast one last glance at the parchment and the pouch—symbols of heritage and leap of faith intertwined—and with a hasty resolve, you retrieved the crest. 

You finally took your departure, your boots tapping against the floor as you advanced. Your hand reached for the cold iron handle, but before you could definitely leave, his voice halted you once more.

“Sigvarddóttir,” he called with curious intrigue. “One last question before you leave.”

You paused, your eyes meeting his as you tilted your head in quiet expectation. “What is it?”

“If you had to represent yourself, how would you do it?”

The question hung between you like a delicate wisp of perfume. For a short stretch of time, you considered its layers, the hidden meanings swirling like autumn leaves caught in a gentle wind. “I suppose you have your own reasons for asking,” you began, a note of uncertainty in your tone. 

“As for how I would present myself... the answer is, in truth, simple.” Your eyes fell to the family crest, seeping cold from the metal in your hand. "I will always bear the signature of my house with pride, regardless of the circumstance. I wear its history, its strength, and even its failures upon my shoulders, and it will forever define who I am at core, along with how I choose to depict myself hereafter.”

A moment passed before the man’s lips twitched into a small, wry smile. “A proud answer indeed,” he concluded thoughtfully in a small appraisal. 

With that, you turned once more toward the door and without a backward glance, you pushed open the door and stepped into the dim corridor beyond, your mind already racing with the preparation of your next move to play.

Inside the room, the man’s attention returned to the page, his fingers tracing over the names with abnormal care. A soft chuckle escaped him as he murmured, almost to himself, “Interesting... Very interesting.”

His form began to blur and shift. The harsh, angular features softened, the masculine lines giving way to the delicate grace of a woman’s visage. In a seamless transformation, the dark, tattered garments were replaced by a gown of deep, earthen green. The fabric flowed around her lithe frame, rich in texture and hue as if woven from the forest’s heart. Golden blonde hair tumbled in gentle waves around her now expressive face that combined ethereal beauty with a spark of calculated brilliance.

She once again fixed her gaze upon the names on the page, her delicate fingers skimming over the inked list as her eyes glinted with a newfound admiration. “If my calculations are correct,” she said softly, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, “this will be a fine choice as an ally. For both of us.”

Her eyes shone with the thrill of the unfolding game, a quiet laugh escaping as she already started to plot the pace to adopt in this upcoming intricate dance of fate. “Yes,” she affirmed to herself, “this will be most interesting indeed.”

⠀

⠀

ending notes : To explain the corrosive part in the burial, my understanding is that in Asgardian funerals, the fire is supposed to slowly process the body to thoroughly purify it. Her accelerating the burning would mean disrupting the ritual and therefore meddle with his passing. Let me know your thoughts about the series so far, comments and interactions are very welcomed ! <3

⠀

PROLOGUE.⠀|⠀CHAPTER ONE.⠀|⠀CHAPTER TWO.

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⠀⠀

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[whereianonymouslypostfics]

The Flip Side Part 13

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~9.6k

Summary: Your motivation to continue working as a mobster in Chicago is dwindling after the birth of your daughter.

A/N: Sorry for the unplanned hiatus. This was just very difficult to write! 

Warnings: Angst, violence, mentions of abuse, death, blood, non-con kissing

Dean sighs quietly behind his mask as he watches his fellow rebels go through the nightly routine of taking off all of their body armor. Since being approached by Skurge and encouraged to go against you to try and rehabilitate your criminal empire, he and another 5 people that he’d recruited lived in what had essentially become a frat house. It could house up to 15 people, and there was no personal space, but it’s not like they had much time to enjoy it anyway. If they weren’t sleeping, they were out assisting Hela in some way. Most of the time they were serving as ‘hired’ muscle and intimidation as the brunette continued to recruit from your ranks. People were unsure of what was happening at first, but after the first mass execution a couple of days ago, they were beginning to fall in line or disappear. 

Dean’s only helping because he wants to see you fail. He’d never really liked you and even after working for you for three years, his opinion hasn’t changed. He’d never sought out a group of people who felt the same, but he gravitated toward them as he came across them over the years. They’d all becomes friends and when they’d been approached about double-crossing you, they’d been cautiously optimistic. This was something they’d wanted for a while, but hadn’t been able to swing themselves. 

Now with Hela’s help, they were much closer to having someone else in charge. Someone that would hopefully treat them better. That said, he’s currently exhausted, and as soon as he’s out of his heavy armor he collapses into his bed. He groans when his stiff muscles begin to relax as he closes his eyes. He thinks back to how busy these past few days have been. He’s spent a lot of time out and about helping Hela terrorize your still faithful employees. He’d even gone to your penthouse which is something he never thought he’d get the chance to do. 

When he’d been told that he was going to hold your wife at gunpoint, he was a little reluctant. Not because he particularly cared about either of you, but he feared that his involvement would get him killed. He had not expected her to be the one to shoot first and ask questions later. The urge to hurt the three of them had been nagging at him the entire time they were there, but they’d been given orders to only shoot if you were uncooperative. After a short and sickeningly sweet conversation, you gave up your freedom to keep your wife, friends and dogs safe. 

He had to hand it to you, it was brave coming back here to face Hela. She’d already alluded to your imminent demise, and he was surprised to see that you were here with very little protest. You must be thinking about your family, and hoping that you’ll get back to them at some point. However, as soon as Hela gets your empire back to it’s former glory, she’s going to get rid of you for good. 

Hela frowns at the silly question before shaking her head with an exaggerated sigh. She stands up and moves toward the monitors until she’s standing right in front of the one you must have seen. It’s your wife’s restaurant, at least a view from the street and it’s one of the first places she’d decided she wanted to monitor. The first was your penthouse. Her plan was to get your attention and she knew that this would be most effective by using those close to you. It took her a while to decide what she wanted to do. She’d wanted you in jail for whatever she planned because she knew it would make you feel helpless, but she’d eventually decided to spare Wanda’s life. She figured you’d be more compliant if she left her alive, and so far, you had been. 

She hopes that you realize they won’t be alive for too much longer. 

“You should know the answer to this, darling. You must use people’s weaknesses against them if you want to get your way.” 

You’re not surprised, rather disappointed by this answer and you shake your head before offering a small smile. 

“I didn’t forget.” 

You don’t get a response as Hela turns back toward the screens in front of her and takes a few steps back. She looks at all of them and you wonder what’s on her mind, and if any of it is going to affect you. 

“So what’s the next step? How are we going to revive my dying empire?” 

Yelena’s scowling as she looks to the barbed whip in her sister’s hand with a shake of her head. They were working on finding a way to attack the bullet proof soldiers the next time they saw them, and they were going through their entire arsenal. They realize that they were going to have to rely on brute force to best the damn minions that Hela had been sending all over town. Nat had been trying to track them from a distance, and after an entire day of following them she’d found their homebase. Unfortunately, they would be very outnumbered if they tried to attack there. Nat had counted 8 of them coming and going in one day, and she couldn’t see inside so she wasn’t able to say what their odds would be. 

“What about this?” 

Nat turns to see her sister’s holding up a modern-day version of a flail that might just do the trick. Nat walks forward so she can inspect it and then she wracks her brain for whether or not she has enough of these types of things to face off with. She sighs before realizing that she’s going to have to go to her vault. 

“That’s good, but I think we need to take a quick trip for something better.” 

Wanda sighs as she tries again to pick up the pot in front of her. She’d been staring at it for twenty minutes since she put down Natalya for a nap, and she hadn’t even reached out for it. It wasn’t that her arms hurt that much. No it was mostly the fact that she hadn’t thought about cooking since the accident. That’s what she was calling it anyway, but it had rattled her enough to stick to using the microwave to prepare meals. This wasn’t that much of an inconvenience except when she wanted to cook breakfast, or the urge to bake made her wander around the kitchen. 

For this reason, Wanda was trying to ease herself back into cooking, and the kitchen as a whole. Mostly the stove. You’d helped her a lot and her brother had too, but now that she was alone, at least for a little bit she had to try and do something for herself. She also knew that she couldn’t be afraid for too long. She loves cooking and she doesn’t want to lose that because of what Hela did to her. She’s placed a pot half full with water on the stove, and she just had to find the courage to turn it on. She wasn’t even sure what she would do with it, but she hadn’t really thought that far ahead. She was going to turn it on soon. She just needed another minute. 

She startles when she feels a dog brush up against her leg, and she looks down to see Rogue watching her impatiently. She smiles at him before reaching down to pet his head with a sigh. She wishes you were here with her, but she supposes the next best moral support for this is her dog. She keeps one hand on Rouge as she reaches out to turn on the stove in front of her. Despite the desire to look away, she watches as the little flames turn on and she holds her breath and waits for something to happen. She lowers her arm because it’s starting to ache, and she just stands by watching until the water begins to boil. When it’s bubbling, Wanda smiles slightly before looking down to Rogue who’s still watching her closely. He licks her hand and whines before following her to the pantry. 

“How about some hot chocolate, bud?” 

Rogue watches her grab a mug and pour some powder into it with a sigh. She glances at her phone that she’d left beside the stove, and she has to resist the urge to check your location again. She’s never checked it so frequently and it felt stalkerish, but in this situation she believed that it was okay. Well, it wasn’t okay because it was driving her crazy knowing where you were and not being able to do anything to get closer to you. She considers how she’ll get you back as she takes her first sip. She hears Natalya fuss through the monitor a few seconds later, and she’s grateful for the distraction. She sets her mug down and heads toward the nursery only to find that Boone’s already there. She greets him with a quick scratch as she walks through the door to check on her mewling baby. 

“What’s wrong, little one?” 

Wanda watches as Natalya squirms and cries in distress, but she’s not sure why. She ate a little earlier so she must be lonely, and Wanda decides to sit with her for a while. She rocks her daughter on her lap as she talks to her in Sokovian for a while, and by the time she finishes she’s tearing up a little. She kisses her baby’s head before thinking about what you might be doing. 

“Do you miss. Mom, little one? She’ll be home soon, I promise. Right now she’s…well it’s a little complicated sweetheart. She’s cutting ties with someone she used to know, but as soon as she’s done with that, she’ll be back to us. You’ll be excited to hear that she’s promised to be around for us more. You will have both of your moms around all day. You’ll be sick of us, but I’m very excited to have both of you home with me. I’ve missed it. 

Once Nat’s settled again and fallen asleep, Wanda puts her back in her crib and carefully steps over Rogue as she heads back to the kitchen. Her hot chocolate is cold but she just heats it up in the microwave before finishing it off. She looks to her phone when it beeps and she smiles when she sees her brother’s texted her.  She rolls her eyes before typing out a quick response. She decides that she needs to figure out what you’re up to soon. She’s going to give you a couple of hours before checking in again, but she’s not just going to sit around and wait for an update. She wanders down the hall and toward one of the extra bedrooms. You have so many that you don’t even use this one, or at least not for guests. Even if each of your friends wanted their own room, this one would stay untouched because it housed some of your many, many weapons. 

Wanda sighs as she pushes the door open and switches on the light with a grimace. Her arms are aching from her time with Natalya, but she continues into the room and heads straight for the closet. She loved you a lot, and despite understanding your paranoia a little better now, she was still shocked sometimes by how much effort you put into hiding things. She switches on the light before sliding the door open and looking around the seemingly empty space. Nothing catches her eye immediately and she spends almost a full minute looking for the hidden panel that will open the very large safe room that you’d had built into this closet. 

After entering the combination to the lock, she hears the telltale rumbling of the door unlatching and a second later it opens. Wanda’s grateful that it opens on its own because this door is very heavy. Wanda leaves it open behind her since she didn’t grab a baby monitor, and she steps inside the room that’s almost larger than the dog’s room. It’s filled with guns, ammunition, and other weapons that you’ve used over the years, but haven’t touched in a while. The large wooden desk in the back of the room is one you rarely used, and the couch that was mostly for the dogs also looked untouched. 

Wanda had come in here primarily to look for a specific gun, but her eyes are drawn toward the series of pictures she’d put up in here. Initially, when you’d showed her the room, it had been wall to wall guns, and she’d immediately asked you to change this. Not only was it disturbing, but it was unsecure and a little excessive. You’d caved when your wife had promised to redecorate tastefully for you, and despite being a little anxious about it, Wanda hadn’t disappointed. 

The series of pictures she’d had framed for you were of your two beloved dogs. Starting with them as puppies, Wanda had used some of the many, many pictures you’d captured of them over the years to show how they’d grown from small puppies, to your full-grown loyal companions. Before Natalya was born, you’d come in here sometimes and just look at the pictures and admire your dogs. After, you’d joked that you had an entire room dedicated to your dogs, and more pictures of them than your daughter in the house. Wanda decided to change this, but you both agreed that it was a little weird to put pictures of Natalya in here with your weapons. 

Wanda looks away from a picture of Rogue and Boone wrestling when they were just puppies and turns toward the far wall behind your desk. Since she made you reorganize in here, there were nearly a dozen locked drawers that held specific types of guns. She was looking for one that you hadn’t used in years. She smiles widely as she puts in the code and waits to see the rifle that she wants to use on a particular brunette. 

You take a deep breath as you stare at your hand with a longing look. You twirl the rings on your finger as you think about what tonight would bring. You’re exhausted and want to sleep despite passing out after being brought here, but you don’t feel safe. You had been led to a room that was surprisingly nice, but this did nothing to quell your fears of Hela coming to find you after you freshened up. You didn’t have a lock on the door, and you had no weapons nearby to protect yourself with. You were wearing clothes that were too large for you as you wait on the comfortable bed, and you feel yourself fading with each passing second. Your eyes flutter dangerously and you miss the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. 

It's the sound of someone knocking that makes you sit up straight and tense in anticipation. Your achy muscles protest, but you do your best to ignore it as you turn to face whoever’s come to bother you. 

You’re a little puzzled by the appearance of one of Hela’s armed minions, but you quickly realize you’d forgotten how much Hela liked wielding her authority like this. You remember how she’d had people run ridiculous errands for her, and the fact that this is one of those times makes you feel like you’re that scared 23-year-old who hadn’t known how to escape your tormenter. 

You try to push these thoughts aside as you stand up and follow the brunette to wherever Hela was waiting for you. 

Hela had considered a few different options for how she wanted tonight to go. She knew you still weren’t on board with any of this. You were mostly confused and homesick, but she decided that distraction was the most appropriate course of action for now. She remembers how easily distracted you were when she knew you, and just watching you these past few weeks has told her that you haven’t changed much in this regard. 

She finishes putting her hair up and she stands with a sigh as she looks in the mirror. This month has been an exhausting one for her, and even though you’re not truly back yet, having you nearby makes her body feel like it can relax a little. She has to resist the urge to let her guard down though because she feels that you are still going to try and betray her. She hears footsteps coming down the hall and she makes sure her robe is tied before she turns toward the door with an impassive expression. 

The resounding knock a few seconds later almost makes her smile. 

“Come in.” 

As you’re led down a long, dark hallway, you’re given plenty of time to consider what could be waiting for you on the other side of the door. You try to think of Wanda and your daughter at home as Dean stops in front of the door and knocks so loudly you almost flinch. You fiddle with your rings as you wait impatiently, anxious to figure out what Hela has planned. You consider every grizzly possibility that you can. You wonder if she’ll hurt you now, or if she’s going to make you hurt someone. Maybe she’ll--.

“Come in.” 

As soon as the door is swung open, Dean turns to leave, but not before pushing you through it roughly. You consider spinning around and punching him in the face for putting his hands on you, but the door practically slams shut before you can even look over your shoulder. You scowl and listen to him walk away before your attention is pulled back to Hela who’s watching you wordlessly. The brunette can’t help but smile at the fight that she still sees in you. You turn around slowly prepared to ask her what she wants, but the sight of her makes you stop short. You’re sure your eyes widen in surprise, but that really only lasts for a moment before you feel your muscles tense in fear.

“Sit.” 

Hela pats the spot beside her on the bed, and you just look at it for a few seconds before you force yourself to take the first step to close the distance. You hadn’t expected for Hela to greet you with barely any clothes on, and it was stressing you out. You sat down where she indicated, and if you sat a little further away than she wanted, you pretended not to notice. You focus on the soft carpet beneath your feet instead of the woman sitting next to you, but this only lasts for a few seconds before she starts talking. You look up to see her smiling at you and you feel something you can’t put a name to as Hela reaches out for you. 

“I wanted to tell you something, Y/n.” 

This isn’t a surprise to you, but you don’t dare say that as you notice the gun she has sitting on her bedside table. You just nod and wait for her to finish her thought. Your eyes start to wander to the dark purple silk that’s covering an undoubtedly insubstantial slip beneath. The color reminds you of the first person you’d killed, and you shudder at the memory of the poor drug addict. Hela misinterprets this but you don’t notice as you try to blink away the sight of the blood-soaked suit. 

Hela sighs as she decides to be honest and see how you react to it. She has only one goal in mind, and that’s keeping your empire for herself. If she is able to keep you as well then she’ll be happy, but it’s not really a priority. She just has to make sure that if you stick around, you and the rest of your family stays out of her way. 

“When I found you here a couple of months ago, I realized it was a chance for us to start over. Your business is struggling, but with my help, I know we can get it back on track.” 

You try not to react to the feeling of her hand on yours, and you focus on her bright eyes that tell you that she’s plotting something. Still, you smile slightly at the thought of your business improving and making more money. When you first started, your goal was to make a name for yourself. You needed money, but there had been dozens of other options for an occupation other than mobster that you could have, and should have pursued. That said, when you arrived in Chicago, you’d decided to try and prove Hela wrong. She’d only told you that you were useless and couldn’t do anything for yourself for months, so you’d thought you’d try to show her. It was foolish and stubborn, and you should have known better than to do something so reckless. 

You’d always loved food. Maybe you should have gone into the food industry, and there is a small chance you still would have met your wife. 

You realize you haven’t responded when you feel Hela squeeze your hand, and you quickly nod before releasing the breath you’d been holding. 

“I think…I think I’d like that."

Pietro frowns in confusion as he calls out for his sister again. He’d texted her to tell her that he would be by soon to check in and see if she needed help, but she hadn’t responded. He figured she might be resting, but as he wanders further into the penthouse, he realizes that might not be the case. The dogs that hadn’t greeted him at the elevator that he’d managed to get working just on card access, appear from a place where he doesn’t usually see them. Pietro holds out his hands for them to sniff, but they quickly get bored of him and go to their water bowl instead. 

This leaves Pietro to check in the nursery for his sister, but neither she nor his niece are there and his frown deepens. 

“Wanda?” 

He checks outside first to see if Wanda’s relaxing out there with Natalya, but all he finds are the other three dogs lying around or wrestling. He walks back into the living room to see a tail disappear down a hallway, and he decides to follow it. He turns the corner just in time to see one of the dogs disappear into a bedroom that his sister doesn’t use. Pietro just thinks that his sister might be crashing somewhere else to try and not think about your absence, and he’s kind of right. 

What awaits him is a confusing scene that takes him a bit to process. He watches Rogue head toward the couch where Wanda’s sitting with Natalya on her lap asleep. She looks near sleep too, but she hears him, or maybe her dog and she wakes up a little. She sits up and looks to her brother who’s looking around your secret room with a bewildered expression. Wanda hadn’t told him about this because she knew he wouldn’t approve. It honestly never came up, and since everything was either locked up or unloaded, it was perfectly safe for her to hang out in here, even if it’s a little odd. 

“Hi Piet.” 

Pietro’s attention turns back to his sister who’s making sure she hasn’t woken up her daughter before greeting her dog. Rogue sticks his nose in Wanda’s lap and sniffs Natalya before leaning against the couch with a yawn. They all look very comfortable, but Pietro’s still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that this room even exists. 

“Hey, Wands. This is…new?” 

It’s more of a statement than a question, but Wanda still shakes her head as her brother wanders over to the free seat at the end of the couch. He sits down as Wanda glances around the room once again before sighing in defeat. She isn’t sure why she felt the urge to hang out in here. It didn’t make a lot of sense given how she felt about your job, but she had to admit it was a nice room, albeit a little unsettling if she thought too much about it. 

“Not really. She’s had this here basically since moving in.”

Wanda just smiles at her brother’s awestruck look as he continues to look around at the many weapons that are probably worth more than she wants to think about. He has to resist the urge to stand up and go touch, and instead he focuses on the other Maximoffs. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t know this was here. It’s so cool.”

Wanda rolls her eyes but she doesn’t stop her brother from reaching out for Natalya and holding her in his arms. He kisses his niece’s forehead before leaning back against the couch beside Boone. He’s resting his head on his sister’s leg, and he moves a little closer once her lap is freed up, but Rogue beats him to it. He jumps up onto the couch beside Wanda and plops down on top of her with a huff. Wanda can’t help but smile as she reaches out to scratch him. 

“Y/n would be happy to hear you say that.” 

Pietro smiles as he bounces Natalya in his arms gently enough to not wake her up. Wanda watches carefully as she glances to her phone on the table that she must not have heard earlier. 

“Sorry I didn’t answer. I’m just trying to relax, and not think about what she’s up to.” 

Wanda frowns at the thought and it doesn’t take Pietro long to figure out what she’s talking about. He’s only wondered what you were up to multiple times today, but any prolonged consideration made him too angry. He wanted you to wrap things up and come back to his sister, but he knew things were a little more complicated than that. He just had to wait until everything was in place, and give you a little more time before they decided to speed things up. 

Pietro knew his sister well enough to realize that she was coming up with a plan of her own as well. The fact that she was in here might be an escape now, but she wouldn’t come in here, of all the other rooms in her house, if she wasn’t looking for something. Pietro hoped it was a gun that would wipe Hela off the face of the Earth. 

Pietro tries to reassure his sister that you’re doing your best to get back to her and Natalya. He has to believe this or else he’ll spiral and get angry all over again. He’s doing his best to give you the benefit of the doubt, and it’s not even that difficult in this case. He knows how much you love your family, and leaving them isn’t an option. 

He shifts little Nat in his arms before shooting his sister a smile. 

“I’m sure she’s working hard to get back here, sestra.” 

You’re near sweating in your uncomfortable clothes as you and Hela sit facing each other at the end of her bed. She’s still holding your hand and you can tell it’s getting a little gross as you try to predict what Hela’s going to do next. Since telling her that you wouldn’t be opposed to returning your empire to its former glory, she hasn’t said anything. She’d only hummed in response and continued to hold your hand as she tried to read you. She hated to admit it, but she was out of practice and therefore not nearly as good at guessing your intentions. You’re still stiff and you look very uncomfortable as you resign yourself to your fate. You realize that the fact you’re even sitting here with Hela means that she wants something from you. It’s not a difficult conclusion to come to, but you’re usually slow to figure things out and you nearly kick yourself at the realization. 

You’re going to have to give her what she wants if you hope to save your family from any further harm. 

Hela watches as you deflate with a heavy sigh and a slow smile creeps onto her lips. You turn your hand over in hers before squeezing it gently. You are trying not to cry as you think about your wife at home and how much you miss her. It hasn’t even been a day, but you don’t see the end of this anywhere near. 

“Will you show me how?”

Hela’s wide smile is borderline creepy, but you force yourself to look at it as something that’s comforting. She’s going to do this for you because it’s really what she wants. If she gets your compliance at the same time she’s killed two birds with one stone, and more importantly, to her at least, she’s going to figure out how to return to power. 

You’re mostly dissociating when Hela leans forward and presses her lips against yours. You stiffen because you can’t help it, but you manage not to pull away before Hela does. She eyes you critically before smirking at your flushed face. She leans back before humming thoughtfully. This is going to be interesting. 

“Let’s go to sleep, darling. Tomorrow we’ll get to work.” 

Bucky’s in the bedroom changing when he hears the front door slam shut. He’d been waiting for Natasha for a while, so he’s quick to greet her despite his slight limp. He opens his mouth to speak, but he stops short at the sight of his girlfriend with a large chest full of something heavy and metal. Nat groans as she sets it down and sits on it with a sigh. She’s sweating but she has a smile on her face as she looks down at the giant chest of weapons that she’d picked for their next encounter with the damned armored minions.

“Hey there.” 

Bucky watches as Nat stands up before kicking the chest closer to the wall with a sigh. She looks to the brunette and kisses his cheek before gesturing to her haul. 

“Hey. Look at what I found.” 

Bucky watches as Nat opens the chest and he takes in the sight of the weapons that look heavier than anything the redhead usually went for. This tells him immediately that she’s found what she was looking for to combat Hela’s guards, and he reaches out to grab one of the maces with a smile.

“This might just work.” 

Despite her best efforts, Wanda finds herself on the rooftop not two hours after going to bed that night. She’d let both of her shepherds sleep in the bedroom with her, and she hadn’t even kicked Rouge out of bed when he jumped up about an hour after she’d turned off the lights. She had tried to sleep but she only tossed and turned each time her mind wandered to you and what you could be doing. She hated sleeping alone, but the fact that you were with Hela, possibly sleeping with Hela was making it impossible for her to relax.

She trusted you when you told her you would do your best to come home to her and Natalya soon. She hadn’t asked you for details, or maybe she had, she can’t remember, but you hadn’t been very specific about how you’d manage this. You told her that you would try to keep anything worse than you being beaten from happening, but this was hardly reassuring. She thought this in itself was horrible and it made her wonder what you considered better than this. Would you let her touch you? Would you drink with her? As Wanda laid in bed fretting over this, she realized that she needed to find a distraction. 

She’d practically jumped out of bed, not even noticing how she’d startled Rogue awake as she hurried for the bedroom door. She’d barely remembered to grab the baby monitor before she ventured toward the dogs’ room and out to the roof. She realized belatedly that her shepherds were following her, and she’d held the door open for them so they could all escape out into the cool night air.

Now that they’re all sitting on the couch, Wanda breathes in deeply before wiping the tears from her eyes. She grimaces as she’s reminded that she forgot to take her meds before bed, but she doesn’t have the energy to correct this now. She’s too preoccupied thinking about what could be happening to you, and she does her best to convince herself that you’re just sleeping. She wants to believe that you won’t let Hela do anything to you, but she really can’t pretend to know what Hela’s true intentions are. 

If she was being particularly pessimistic, she would say that Hela wants you back, and that once she gains your loyalty she’ll come after her and the rest of your family. She would be shocked if she was allowed to live which is why she’s not going to let this happen. She’d ended the day downstairs in the basement at the gun range because she couldn’t help herself. She just needed to reassure herself that even with her injured arms she could still shoot well. It had been painful and she was paying for it now, but it did the trick and only 15 minutes after leaving the condo she was back upstairs. She put the gun back in your weapons room, and showered before crawling into bed. 

Now that she’d convinced herself that she could shoot Hela, she just had to figure out how she’d track her down. She had a bad feeling you wouldn’t be home this week, and she was going to have to bring you back herself. She’d consult with both Bucky and Steve once she had a more concrete plan, but she would need to have a little more sleep before she thinks about that. 

She stares up at the stars with a sigh before shaking her head. She frowns at the feeling of uselessness that’s overwhelmed her for the past day. She wasn’t useless and she wasn’t going to let you be the only one working to get you back home. She’s sure your friends are trying to figure it out too, but she’s your wife and she’ll be damned if she just sits around and waits for someone to tell her what to do. 

Wanda reaches out for Rogue who’s sitting beside her, and she pets his head for a minute as she contemplates her next move. If she weren’t on pain killers, she would have had something to drink by now. She would have to stop by her brother’s to get anything, but she could justify bothering him for alcohol given the circumstances. She decides that alcohol would only make her feel better for a few hours, so it’s not really worth it. She thinks about what you would say too and she immediately feels guilty for even thinking about it. 

She knows that you’d be understanding, and despite not touching a drop of alcohol for years, you’d want her to do whatever made her feel better. She knew that your experience with alcohol would keep her from ever developing a problem, but that didn’t mean she wanted to resort to getting drunk to feel better. She’d learned over the years that the best thing to do is be productive instead. If she wanted to feel better about something, she had to do something about it, and this is what she decides to do. 

You don’t sleep a wink that night. You had a feeling this would happen, and despite how frustrating it is, you don’t feel safe enough to let your guard down. You’re lying in bed less than a foot away from Hela and you’re tense from head to toe in anticipation. You keep waiting for the brunette to wake up and smother you or something, or maybe try to touch you in her sleep. You can’t risk falling asleep because then you’re completely helpless and that’s not something you’re comfortable with. 

You try to figure out what Hela’s going to want you to do tomorrow, and at the same time you wonder what your wife is up to. Hopefully she’s asleep right now, but knowing her it’s not a restful sleep. You feel guilty about this on top of everything else, and you sigh heavily briefly forgetting your fear of waking Hela up. You roll onto your side and face the door with a frown as you consider how much longer you’ll have to be here. You try to think about your wife and the rest of your family. You consider what life could be like for all of you if you get away from Hela, from all of this. 

You don’t know if Wanda would be willing to leave her restaurant behind, but you don’t think about that now. Instead, you imagine you and your wife living in a secluded house deep in the mountains. Maybe you’d leave the country, and go to Europe. Maybe you could live in a villa somewhere in Italy, far, far away from this life. 

You don’t realize that you’ve fallen asleep until you wake up the next morning. You probably weren’t asleep for more than a couple of hours when the sound of someone calling your name wakes you. You jump in surprise and it takes you a few seconds to remember where you are. You frown and then sigh heavily as you sit up with a groan. You are exhausted and your eyes sting as you look to Hela who’s holding something in front of her. You watch her set down a tray of food that you have to admit smells good. 

“Good morning, darling. Eat up, we’re going to have a busy day.” 

You glance at the food briefly before turning to the bottle of orange juice that sits beside the glass that’s already half full. You are hesitant to eat any of this because you don’t trust Hela not to try and drug you. You do your best to stall as you shoot her a questioning look before asking what you’d stressed over all last night. 

“What’s on the agenda for today?” 

Hela doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she reaches for the glass of juice and hands it to you with an expectant look. You take a sip to appease her, but it’s small and only tastes of orange juice. Still, you don’t let this fool you and you hand it back to her quickly. She doesn’t object and she reaches for the plate of food that you’re not going to eat much of if any. 

“We’re going to pay a friend a visit.” 

If your appetite hadn’t been stolen by the fact that Hela’s supposedly prepared food for you, it certainly would have been obliterated by the news of who you were going to visit. You don’t bother hiding your reaction, but you try to mask your concern with confusion. You aren’t sure how Hela figured out your limited, but important relationship with Tony. He was the first one who believed in you enough to invest in your future with the mob. You saw him as an uncle figure at times because he was almost a decade older than you were, and he was one of the only people who would tell you that you were in the wrong.

Well, that was until you met your wife. 

Tony was the one who helped you become a mobster, and you’d told him that he was the one who would find out first that you were going to quit. You’d decided that if you ever wanted out of your profession, you would tell Tony first. This was mostly out of professional courtesy, and the fact that he would need to be prepared for your departure. He would need to figure out how to control the backlash and be prepared to recover from it. You joked that you would take him out for a nice dinner to break the news, but then he’d begun to expect it. 

You wonder how this meeting will fall short of his expectations. 

“He’s expecting us a little later. I wanted to introduce you to my team here before we go.” 

You hold back the frown that threatens at the thought of meeting the same group you did last night. You’d decided that they were the ones who had been sent to your house to threaten your family. You would like to punch them in the face, but you’re going to have to play nice. For now, at least. 

“Okay, I’ll get ready.” 

You failed to realize that getting ready meant showering and putting on your dirty, wrinkled clothes. It was either this or some of Hela’s clothes and you refused to do that for multiple reasons. You’d look even more ridiculous than you do now because she’s so much taller than you. You try to ignore the stress headache brewing behind your eyes as you follow Hela out of your room to see what awaits you. 

Yelena curses as she ducks down when a car passes by her, and pulls into the driveway of the glorified frat house that she and her sister are staking out. Their goal was to figure out how to take out some of Hela’s ranks so she can’t use them in an attempt to keep you away from your family. She had been staking out this place all day, and she’d seen close to ten people come and go, all dressed and ready to terrorize people. 

Yelena had to resist the urge to shoot some of the dumber ones that didn’t have their helmets on, but she didn’t want to give herself up too quickly. She needed the element of surprise, and for this she had Nat looking into what their security was like. Hopefully they would be able to take them out relatively easily while Steve and Bucky dealt with tailing you and making sure you weren’t being tortured by Hela. 

When her phone rings, Yelena almost jumps but she simply curses before answering it quickly. 

“What, what is it?” 

She hadn’t even looked at the caller ID. She was focused on how easy it was for one of the minions to get back into the frat house, and she finds herself smiling until she hears the voice on the other end of the line.

“Excuse you? I’ve figured out how to take out the middle men, but if you don’t care…” 

Yelena curses loudly before shaking her head and apologizing before her fiancée could go on. She was helping her with surveillance now since Nat was trying to team up with Bucky to figure out how to get to you sooner rather than later. 

“Sorry, sorry. What did you find out my wonderful future wife?” 

She can imagine the eye roll that accompanies the loud sigh that Kate releases at her question. She doesn’t bother to address this now because she knows time is of the essence. She looks at her watch and decides that they have about an hour to make this work if they want to do it today. The lack of news from you or Hela even is stressing everyone out, and it’s encouraging everyone to go forward with their own plans. Wanda’s working on her own certainly, but your friends are also trying to figure out how to eliminate as many threats to the family while they figure out how to get you back. 

“We’re going to have to move quickly, Lena, but I think we have a shot at this.” 

The trip downtown to where Tony’s office is located is an agonizingly slow one. You are sitting in the back seat of the car silently stewing over how rude the minions were to you earlier. You have no power over them and they know this, so they treat you like dirt. As annoying at it is, you’re not going to fight anyone on it because it’s so low priority for you. Your main concern is getting home and making sure that you and your family aren’t any worse for wear from this horrible experience. 

“I think I should do all of the talking when we meet him.” 

You’re not surprised, but you are disappointed to hear this and you just nod before deciding that this might be useful. Tony knows you well and you’re hoping your silence, your deference to Hela will tell him more than whatever comes out of the brunette’s mouth. You wonder what Hela’s planning on telling him, but given how you’re almost there you know you won’t have to wonder for long. 

She’s going to throw you under the bus though. You know that for sure. 

You ignore the slight nausea and headache that’s been bothering you since breakfast and close your eyes to try and relax until you get there. You briefly wonder what Wanda’s up you, but you’re distracted by the car coming to a sudden stop. You’re only worried for a second before you hear the driver’s voice through the opening divider. 

“They’re asking for identification, ma’am.” 

You’d almost forgotten how paranoid your friend was, and you actually smile at the reminder. You don’t have any identification on you since you left it all knowing that you’d be stuck here. You realize it’s not important because once the window’s rolled down and someone takes a look at you, you’re cleared to head inside. You drive a little further to a parking spot before you’re led out into the impressive building. You used to think that Tony’s design choice for this place was ridiculous. You’ve made fun of him in the past for flaunting his wealth, but you’d take all of this back today if he asked because you’re relieved to see a friendly face. 

Tony meets you and Hela at the door, and you don’t miss how his gaze falls to the two bodyguards that are more for Hela’s benefit than yours. You offer him a smile but don’t get a chance to do anything else before Hela is speaking. You stop in your tracks as Hela offers her hand to Tony along with a smile that you’re sure is fake. 

“Mr. Stark, thank you for making the time to see me today.” 

Since no one but Tony can see you, you roll your eyes before letting your expression match your displeasure. You knew you were just here as a formality, but you didn’t want her to insult you in front of your friend. Tony’s gaze didn’t leave Hela’s but you can tell that he sees your reaction, and he smiles before shaking Hela’s hand. He looks to you as he waves you both to follow him to the nearest conference room. He hates to do business standing up, and you aren’t surprised to find drinks waiting for you. 

“Of course, you made it sound worth my while. Plus, it’s been a minute since I’ve seen this one.” 

You don’t comment, but you smile as you follow after Hela and take a seat beside her. You purposely pull your seat away from hers so you don’t have to sit too close to her, and luckily she doesn’t seem to care. You watch as Tony sits down too and looks to you first before addressing Hela with a healthy amount of skepticism. You’d fear for his safety if he weren’t in his building, and he wasn’t still important to Hela’s plan. However, he still has use to her so you just try to hide your amusement. 

“So what’s the deal with the rumors going around that say you’re taking over things?” 

You hold your breath as you wait for Hela to reply. You don’t dare look away from Tony as you hear Hela sit up and sigh dramatically. You don’t even need to hear what she says next to know that it’s going to be critical of you in several ways. 

“Y/n has admitted that she’s let her work slip in recent years, especially since getting married, and she’s asked me to take over. She’ll be assisting, but mostly in the background.” 

And maybe a lie or two as well.

This time Tony doesn’t hide his confusion as he looks to you only to find that you’re staring at your hands. He doesn’t speak immediately because he’s tossing around what Hela just said and trying to make sense of it. When you eventually look up you see that Tony’s sat back in his chair and his arms are crossed as he studies you with a frown. You have a feeling you know what’s coming next, but you don’t let on as you wait as patiently as possible for Tony to catch on. 

“This is really how you decide to tell me this, Y/n? I thought you’d go all out.” 

You have to hold back your grin in response as you just shrug and shoot him an apologetic look. 

“Sorry to disappoint, Tony.” 

Tony doesn’t argue or even really respond to this, and the next half hour is Hela talking to him like you’re not even there. You listen a little, but Hela’s told you most of her plan at this point, so you’re not super interested in listening again. You know she plans to completely rebuild everything to her own liking, but you don’t even care. You’re hoping she won’t get that fair. 

You catch yourself almost falling asleep as you sit beside Hela and you frown as you force yourself to sit up and try to pay attention. You realize that this makes your head hurt even more than before, and you sigh inaudibly before closing your eyes and trying to block out what your friend and Hela are saying. 

You wonder what your family is up to. Is everyone mad at you? You know them well enough to guess that they are at the very least irritated with you. You’re certain that they are all making their own plans to get you back home, and you are honestly glad. You are realizing that your plan to go along with Hela until she trusts you won’t work. You overestimated how important you were to her plans, and she honestly just needed you here with Tony to prove that you were on board with your forced retirement. 

You’re shocked when it’s time to leave and Tony hugs you goodbye. He’s only hugged you maybe three times before, but you do your best to pretend like it’s normal. You hug him back briefly, but break away first so Hela doesn’t get too mad. You tell him you might see him around before you step outside and follow Hela to the car. You squint as the sun hits you and immediately makes you flinch from the pain in your skull. 

Of all days to have a stress headache. You can’t even take anything for it, and its not like you’d trust Hela to give you anything for it that would actually help. You try not to think about it much as you slide into the back seat and get buckled. You’re startled by the sound of the door slamming far harder than necessary, but you don’t get to open your eyes and see what’s wrong before Hela’s got you in her grasp. You hiss in surprise and then pain as she shoves you against the door causing you to hit your head against the window. You curse under your breath and then stiffen once you realize she’s pinning you there, waiting until the car starts before she speaks up. 

“I told you not to say a word.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you wait for her to instruct you to speak. You figure she’ll want you to be your old obedient self now that it’s just you two again, and she doesn’t fail to meet your expectations. Eventually you shake your head before responding through gritted teeth. 

“So you wanted me to say nothing, even as he talked to me? That wouldn’t have made him suspicious.” 

Hela doesn’t even bother responding to this as she releases her hold on you but roughly enough that you hit your head on the window again. You curse her in your head in all the languages you know before turning to confirm that she’s moved away from you. You hope that you’re going back to the hideout so you can be away from Hela, but you’re sure that would be too lucky. You instead have a feeling you’ll be running more errands with her now that she has Tony’s support. 

Wanda’s waiting anxiously for her friends to update her on how this afternoon went. She’d spent most of the day trying to not check in on you and stay in touch with her friends, but it was difficult to do. Everyone was busy, and she had been practically ordered to stay in the penthouse which was fine by her, for now. She took care of Natalya, and spent time with her dogs but she was getting restless. Not having you home, and worse, not knowing what you were up to with Hela was causing her to take more of your meds than she should. 

She’s just starting to feel a little more relaxed when she hears her phone ring from somewhere beside her. She sighs as she reaches blindly for it and answers without bothering to see who it is. 

“Hello?” 

Wanda’s quick to sit up when she realizes who’s calling, and she has to stop herself from crying tears of joy. 

“Mrs. Wanda Maximoff. Tony Stark here. I was wondering if you have time to discuss bringing your wife home.” 

You don’t know what’s happened, but as soon as you and Hela return to her hideout you realize something’s wrong. People are running around and looking frantic in a way that immediately sets you on edge. You walk slowly behind Hela who asks the first person she finds what’s going on. You try to eavesdrop, but you’re too far away and too nervous to creep closer. You are glad you’re out of reach when Hela stiffens and turns back to you with a face like thunder. You resist the urge to step back as you wait and see what’s happened. 

“Follow me.” 

You don’t dare protest, and you slowly head up the stairs in what feels like a walk to the electric chair. Hela’s incredibly tense and her scowl sends anyone within sight running in the opposite direction. You feel yourself break out into a cold sweat as Hela leads you through the door to the room you’ve been staying in. She barely lets you walk through before she’s slamming the door behind you and locking it. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” 

You don’t have a response to this because you have no idea what she’s talking about. Whatever someone told her, you’re sure you didn’t have a role in it. That said, Hela clearly feels differently and you resist the urge to immediately deny her as you swallow the lump in your throat. 

“What do you mean?” 

The blow doesn’t surprise you as much as it hurt, and you barely resist the urge to curse as your head whips to the side from the force of the slap. You taste blood but you manage to ignore it as you turn and face Hela once again. You seem to remember that looking away from her will only lead to more pain, and you meet her gaze with a cautious look. Unsurprisingly she looks pissed, but until she tells you what’s wrong you’re not going to have any idea how to answer her question.

You don’t have to wait long and you yelp in surprise when Hela has you up against the door before you can even take a breath. You stiffen and have to resist the urge to fight back when she squeezes your throat and makes breathing near impossible. 

“Don’t be obtuse. I know you sent your friends to take them out. I should have killed them when I had the chance.” 

Hela releases her grip on your neck because despite enjoying the sight of you struggling to breathe, suffocating you would be too easy. She wants you to suffer and this means dragging out whatever punishment she thinks fits the crime of you having all of her minions blown up. 

You swallow a cough as you shake your head and try to figure out what Hela’s talking about. You certainly didn’t order a hit, not that you’d have the ability to right now, so someone else must be taking matters into their hands. It didn’t take a lot of thought to realize that your friends weren’t waiting around for you to come back. You just hoped that their efforts hastened your escape, and didn’t lead to too much pain for you. 

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Hela is unsurprisingly not satisfied with this answer and she just scoffs before grabbing you by your shirt and dragging you out the door. You don’t know where she’s taking you, but you figure you don’t want to know and you try to shake her off with limited success. She ends up back handing you so hard you stumble against the wall and barely keep yourself standing. You’re not sure you’re able to hide the fear in your eyes as you glare at her. She simply glares back as she takes you by the wrist and yanks you along. You don’t fight this time because her words send a chill down your spine that is impossible to ignore. 

“Fine. I’ll just have to refresh your memory as I’m punishing you for it.” 

Masterlist

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Eleven (Loki x fem! Reader Crossover fic)

Series Summary: Based on Sarah J Mass's A Court of Thorns and Roses series with the Tom Hiddleston characters. You are a woman of 1885 in Aldwinter in Essex, England, dying of tuberculosis. Never to be married to the local Lusty Vicar. When Loki appears to you and offers to heal you...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Summary: The Translation book is found. You learn about Robert's past in a luxurious High-Rise. But Loki has private torments of his own, it seems...

Word Count: 6K (to quote @muddyorbsblr prepare drinkies and snackies accordingly. I'm gonna write a short chapter and other lies I tell myself)

Content Warnings: Brief mention of suicide recalling the canon events of High-Rise. Mentions of cheating (not Loki, but Will Ransome's canon actions). Mentions of drinking and mental illness. Thirst but no actual smut. Nightmares and anxiety.

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69

You continued to sit on Loki’s lap as healers arrived to take Skurge away. They were scared and whispering. They stared at him in frightened awe. 

“Hmmm. Could we have some food? The mischief just done to him has made me quite hungry,” Loki crooned over to the Grandmaster.

He nodded, his eyes even brighter with the blue eyeliner. He snapped his fingers at a servant. Another scantily clad woman. You took note of how she moved her hips- so when you walked, you would move your hips that freely too.

“Some food? I have plenty of food. Oh and- what! A! convenience! - I’m hungry too! Give us some snacks and be a dear and be quick,” The Grandmaster said.

She nodded her head with a smile and vanished.

“Thank you. He deserved it,” you sent to Loki.  

He didn’t reply but gave you a smile, his hold on you safe and secure, but not tight.

The woman arrived with platters and set them down as gracefully as a ballerina. You took a sip of your abandoned drink- fizzy and fruity and light. The alcohol could barely be tasted from all the sweetness in its flavor. You took note to take slower sips of it- you didn’t want to test your personal limit of drunkenness now. The plate with slices of bread and meat along with cheeses and grapes. The Grandmaster rubbed his hands and immediately began stuffing his face. 

You gave Loki a smile again, tilting your head as you relaxed on his lap. Then you lifted a hand and traced his cheek lovingly. 

“Oh my poor, hungry god. Let me take care of you, hm?” you murmured.

“When do you not take care of me?” he replied.

You plucked off grapes from the plate and popped one into his mouth. He caught each one with a smile and chewed with a loud crunch. The Grandmaster meanwhile was just blabbering on to any passerby with chewed cheese still in his mouth. You decided to ignore the disgusting sight of spat-up, chewed food. You merely kept feeding Loki his grapes and even lifting his cup so he could have his drink. As you held up the latest grape to his mouth, he caught your hand- his lips barely over your fingers. Savoring that bit of taste of your own skin on him. Then he released it and chewed it like normal.

Fighting how tingly you felt between your legs from it, you scoured the crowd for the others. Hal, Thomas, and Robert were doing all well. Convincing everyone they were just here to socialize and drink and eat and party. Nothing amiss. Robert was tapping his foot to the music, though you could tell Hal and Thomas were inwardly cringing at it. 

Loki turned his head.

“My, my, Skurge never knew when to shut up!” The Grandmaster said, turning back to you two. “Oh well- he should know better than to mess with a god, Loki. Lesson learned! Not gonna lie, the shadows were impressive! You always go for the flashy displays of power.”

“If you weren’t here, the ruler over them, do you know what I’d like to do, Grandmaster? I’d like to make myself their ruler. I’d make every one of them kneel before me, demand it until they did,” Loki boasted.

“Oooo, one of your secrets? Should I take notes- hmmm, that sounds nice to me. A whole crowd of people on their knees before you! Well- I mean- you were a sight in my own bed, Loki.”

The Grandmaster gave another eyebrow wiggle. You saw a pink blush on Loki’s cheeks- embarrassment. But you merely laughed it off.

“Is that how you won his favor?” you thought to him.

“In short- yes. Please don’t ask more.”

“And what of you- YN? I bet…Loki knows the sight of you…kneeling, we shall say,  very well at this point,” The Grandmaster continued with that “shit-eating grin” as Robert would say.

You gave another smile with a slow shrug.

“Oh, of course, I love it!” you cooed.

You turned your head back to Loki as he causally took a sip of his drink and set it down.

“As if you could ever demand me to kneel!” you added on with another grin, your voice in laughter.

The god took his free hand that wasn’t wrapped around you and barely touched your forearm with his fingers. His smile never left, and his voice dropped lower. 

“If you’re a good girl for the rest of today, say the word tonight, my dear. And, I’ll kneel before you.”

A gasp escaped you. Your thighs clenched. You felt as if you could burst into a hundred bits at his words. And the feeling between your legs happened again. It was everything in you not to melt, burst, or react strongly. Only looking at him as he smiled saying those words. A slight surprised inhale took you through, cooling the heat rising inside

The Grandmaster wiped off his food with his sleeve, ignoring the cloth napkins.

“As much as I love it when horndogs don't hide it around me- I want to turn things back to me. Can you believe it- I’m collecting books! I’m a Renaissance man after all! Planet creator, game host, and book collector. Ooo, I have a few new ones that, get this, translate languages. Yes! And I’m smart too! All these aliens and gods and you don’t know what they’re saying. Might as well catch up with all the new and old tongues! But these are the first edition copies of them! I mean- some of them are so expensive, Loki, I couldn’t even let you see them,” he chattered on.

Jonathan returned from a dark corner. His eyes caught Loki’s briefly. The Spy nodded his head in confirmation with a smirk. 

Loki and you exchanged a small look. To not increase suspicion, you stayed a few more minutes. Jonathan merely went to the corner of the party, hands in his pockets and feigning shyness. You fed him Loki a few more grapes. You listened to the Grandmaster's three more ridiculous boasts. 

Then Loki gestured for you to stand up. As he raised his hand, the rest of the circle turned their heads.

“Rethinking about Skurge- I might go to my oaf brother. See if I can persuade or trick him perhaps for your games. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Loki asked.

“Oh- hell yes! The God of Thunder!? Versus Korg! Of course!” replied the Grandmaster.

“Well then- I must hurry to him then. Please excuse us. Everyone! Time to hurry back!” he ordered to his circle.

Loki placed a hand on your back, touching the small middle of it. It felt so…warm, so nice…again the hot, wet, tingly feeling stayed in you. He waved at the other variants to follow behind him. 

As everyone got into the next room, Loki at once created a portal to Asgard. Everyone slipped through at once- hurriedly. You were getting quite used to hurrying through portals now! Immediately you were in your special meeting room in Asgard. All of you breathed a deep sigh of relief. The soft orange lights of the lit candles around the stone walls were welcome versus the garish Sakarr lights.

Jonathan pulled up the end of his shirt and revealed that there was a thin, hardcover book in bright red hidden beneath it. Everyone applauded and Robert patted Jonathan’s back.

“Got it,,” Jonathan said.

“Well now- seeing as also you are the one who’s fluent in a few languages, why don’t you help our Baronet translate it?” asked Loki.

Thomas nodded.

“Oh please, any and all help is much appreciated!” he replied. 

Jonathan nodded his head, “of course.”

“We’ll need to translate the spell, especially for Loki. The dagger itself won’t be too hard- I only need a welder for the blade.”

Thomas slumped his shoulders in his black jacket.

“It’s the tracking device I have trouble with,” he lamented.

“Tracking device?” Hal questioned, eyes forward to him in curiosity.

“A special device we can use to find where the cauldron is…it still isn’t functioning,” Thomas sighed. “It probably needs Loki’s magic…”

Loki folded his arms.

“I doubt my powers alone can…but there is magic in all the realms. We could find something. I will inspect it and ask.” 

The god turned over to you.

“And I think we should thank our gracious lady- looking quite ravishing, I dare say- in her performance in her role. The Grandmaster never suspected a thing with you- the rumored about…lady,” he said.

You gave a small curtsy out of habit, one hand over your cleavage now for the sake of modesty.

“It wasn’t…as bad as I thought. I honestly had a little fun!” you replied.

Loki turned to everyone.

“Now, Thomas and Jonathan have a bit of work ahead of them- but first let us all relax. Celebrate perhaps, if we’re up to it. We had two eventful journeys one after the other!”

You returned over to your room to change out of the dress into your normal clothes. You were still tingly. Ghosts of his touch, his skin over your back, arms, and legs. Still feeling his warmth, the contact…and remembering that you actually liked at. As you looked in the mirror in your room. Your thoughts swam, replaying it over and over…. 

 You may have pretended to be a whore. But the arousal you felt earlier was not pretending.

You put up a mental shield in case a certain god would make a snide comment.  

But…it was just…an emotion. Just a bodily function. Nothing more. It’s done now. Won’t happen again you told yourself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That night you woke up with a start. you heard Loki’s thoughts. 

But it was different. Not with the smooth, confident, flirtatious tone he had in. He sounded troubled. And it was loud

Stones…Tesseract…Thor..Danger…in danger-Thanos-Help. Help! 

Though not every word made sense to you, you got up at once. Was he in danger!? Was something happening? You heard no sounds of a battle, of a fight anywhere near you. It all seemed like a normal, calm night. But that didn’t mean something wasn’t going on!

You ran out to the halls. Your senses stretched out, reaching out for where his room was. You located it in not too long a time- it turned out not to be too far from yours. Your feet making a sound against the stone floors. Only some torches on the walls of the palace lighting your way. The thoughts in your head, his scared, scared voice continuing to ring in a panicked murmur

Thanos- Thanos- Thanos.

Sure enough, there were guards right outside the prince’s room. 

“I think Loki’s in danger! Please! Check his room!” you begged them.

They gave a little look of disbelief from the calm stillness from outside. But without further question, they opened the doors. In the dark, from his open window was a sliver of moonlight. There was only a lump on the bed beneath green blankets. You searched around, the guards slowly brought out their spears. Your senses reached out, and you could feel the white-hot trickle on your hand threatening flames-

But no one was there. No one except the lump on the bed. Tossing, and then thrashing- you could make out the top of his dark, curly head.

“Thanos-Thanos-won’t work-his hand-can’t breathe-”

“There is no one here- only his grace sleeping,” one replied.

“I think he’s…he’s having a bad dream,” you replied.

Still, you hurried to him, his voice in your head, ringing in a panicked tone, his thrashing in sleep beneath the blankets continuing as his voice in your head raised-

“Can’t breathe-can’t breathe-can’t breathe- can’t-”

“Loki wake up!” you cried out loud. You shook at the lump violently. 

He emerged from it. His dark curls were all messy from sleep about his head. Free and beautiful. One needn’t guess his divinity. He woke with a start, sharply inhaling from his nose. And he was not wearing clothes- the blanket covering the lower half of his body.

Oh god, oh dammit you cursed silently at the sight of his pale, broad chest with black hair on it. Not to mention all the abdominal muscles. He smoothed it out of his face to see you with a muscled arm.

You forced yourself to focus on his face- after all, his eyes still looked scared. More genuinely scared than you ever saw him.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“I heard part of your bad dream in my mind. The shield was down. I heard some of it…”

His face fell, wide eyes and a frown on his face. Vulnerable and scared. You lifted a hand to rub his arm in comfort.

 “But it’s just a dream- it’s not real-this is. Everything’s fine,” you soothed.

He wrapped his arms around him and hugged you. You hugged back tightly. You hadn’t hugged since the night you told him you would stay here.

“What was the…dream? What happened? What or who is Thanos?” you asked. 

The guards stayed positioned and silent. Whatever they thought of the scene, their faces didn’t show it. 

Loki released the hug, then clasped your hands, a stray curl falling over his face. 

“Thomas has things he is not ready to discuss. And I have things I’m not ready to discuss either…Only this- when I- when I went to the Prophet earlier, before Vanaheim, I learned a few more things. About myself, about things that might happen to me…but…”

“You don’t have to talk about them if you’re not ready,” you assured him.

He nodded his head.

“Thank you…”

“Do you need anything?” you asked, peeking over at the guards.

“I’m usually very good at falling back asleep, YN darling…I don’t need much. Never did. I’ll be fine…” he assured you.

He gave you a smile. But one that looked a twinge sad. With that, despite your curiosity, it was better to respect his refusal to talk about the dream further. You left his room with the guards. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next afternoon, You did not mention last night to Loki as he trained you with your magic. He was more into helping you control items.

“Now- spin those daggers!” he instructed.

With a lift of your hands, the daggers on the floor went into the air and spun like windmills.

Your fire and moving about of objects and sensing were fine. But as for the light- that could use a bit more work. You could adjust it when sunlight poured through- but that was it. Control it- like the stage lights of a theatre. But no more. You wished it was something that would be useful to fight Grendel with. But oh well- who knew what fates gave you these gifts? The others would be just useful.

“Very well- you’re quite the little sorceress!” he praised. “Now- I say we have had our fill of that!”

As the training for magic finished, you took a deep breath. Physical training was going to start soon- the ones with you and the men. You and Loki left to go through the halls. From one door to outside, you heard footsteps.

 There in the hall walked Jonathan with a small vase full of little white and yellow wildflowers in a  small grey, ceramic vase. 

Loki went up to him.

“And what are you doing not helping Thomas?” he asked.

“We needed a break. Translating it is hard and grueling. It’s going to take a while,” he explained. 

“Mr. Pine, I have another question! Why- did you get my mother’s or the gardener’s permission to rip out those plants?” Loki asked, hands on his hips. Studying the flowers. 

Jonathan’s eyes were larger and soft, like the soft gaze puppies would get. He held over the vase. 

“It’s a gift for Stella. To remind her of the time in the garden with Sif and me. She got the drabest of all the rooms here- I thought these might brighten it. Make her happy. The queen permitted it.”  

You gave him a smile, a hand flying over your heart.

“How sweet of you! Next time- here’s a hint I can say as her friend…”

You gestured for Jonathan to come closer. He did, and your voice became a stage whisper.

“Remember what the prophet said? Her favorite color is blue!” 

Jonathan smiled, beaming and relaxed. 

“It is mine as well,” he responded.

Loki plucked out a finger and twirled it mid-air. The flowers all turned to blue ones. The vase itself had a creamy white over it with little blue stars painted all over it. 

“Seems fitting- stars for the lady whose name means ‘star’. One shouldn’t miss out on presentation,” the god commented. 

Jonathan thanked him kindly. He seemed far from the serious spy capable of drowning men in pools. 

As he left, you both watched him. Then shared a quiet look with each other, you were biting down a grin. You crept up behind to watch Jonathan head towards Stella’s door, Loki behind you. A mouth covering your giggling.

You and Loki both stopped at a corner to peek over at it, to watch it unfold. 

Jonathan knocked on the door. Sif answered the door with a dagger in her hand, then relaxed recognizing him. 

Stella then went up after Sif. Her eyes went big at him and then to the flowers and vase. She made a small gasp, seeing the pattern.

“The stars-it’s a reference to your name,” you heard Jonathan explain.

“Hmm, at least admit it you got the line from me,” Loki complained under his breath.

Then she gave him a large, genuine smile. You heard her thanking him. Looking brightly into his eyes. She accepted the vase gently, their fingers brushing against each other. You could see some pink in her cheeks as they did.

 Then they said their goodbyes and she closed the door- almost hesitantly. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Training came and went to make the days faster. . Magic almost every day. Sparring with Sif every other day-though she still beat you most of the time. Stella was merely content to watch that one from a bench, applauding quietly for whoever won. Physical Training was still daily. But for the past two days…you noticed Robert never showed up. 

“He’s only repainting his walls. He gets invested in it…it calms him,” Loki confided in you. 

 It wasn’t usual to have him stay indoors and not out socializing with everyone. Bragging about the few times he beat Jonathan in sparring. Making little quips. Saying something to make Sif roll her eyes again. 

Once training was done, you sensed where his room was. You went to the doors of his quarters and knocked. He opened the door at once. He was just in his white shirt and grey tie- but the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Oh, hello!”

“I was just worried about you,” you said.

“I was…I’m just painting.”

“Can I see?” you asked.

He opened the door further and allowed you in. When you explored his room, everything was strictly neat. In order. Controlled The chests in their place. The chairs. A table with a few paintbrushes on them. Their bristles stiff with use. But then it showed there were blankets and plastic over them. The walls were once plain brown but now had a blueish-grey paint all over them. There were cans sitting still on the floor by them.

“How is all of it going?” you asked.

Robert folded his arms. 

“It’s well…I just learned I’m banned from Vanaheim. Forever. For destroying the palace,” he said.

“Oh, my- a whole realm!” you responded.

His eyes went down, his face sullen.

“That’s all I amount to, YN- a creature of destruction,” he said sadly.

“You aren’t!” 

He walked around. Then he sat down on the little couch. He patted the side next to you adn you sat down there.

“I am- I told you I went mad once. Let me explain how- it all started when my sister died.”

“Oh, Robert! How hard!” you commented. 

“We were close and it was hard. I grieved so hard, that I wanted to start over. So there was a luxury high-rise apartment complex set up. The talk of the town. I moved in there. Everything you could name was in it-pools, stores, schools, spas, and there were constant parties every night. It seemed like heaven.”

An apartment complex with all of those things? You could have never imagined! You kept your eyes on him, listening to more. You eyed the cans of paint still sitting in the corner. It seemed he already used half of them. The sting of the smell in your nostrils. 

“I met people, more than just the neighbors on my floor. So many new people. I even had lovers. No strings. No real commitments. Just each other's beds and bodies. And then more parties- with so much drinking, and the drugs. There was one party I showed up to. Brought some wine as a gift for them- but when I got there, it was a costume party. And I wasn’t dressed. They laughed at me. Then this fellow named Munrow- he took my classes and lived there. He grabbed the wine from my hands. Dragged me out by the collar. Tossed me onto the elevator and pressed the button for it to close and descend…all while he laughed. All while they all laughed.”

“How cruel!” you cried.

“It angered me so much that I couldn’t think of anything else I wanted more than revenge. So one day I was given his brain scans. Everything looked healthy. So I went to him and told him he had a brain tumor. It was fatal. All lies, of course.”

He took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He took one smoke and then puffed it out.

“He got drunk and killed himself almost right after I told him.”

Your jaw was on the floor. Then a realization came upon you.

“Robert, when you went to the cottage…Munrow was…was he…”

“That was what the Weaver looked like when I looked at her,” he replied.

“Then it all got worse. First, the garbage stopped working.  Then no electricity. Then no water. There was no food. But I didn’t want to leave. No one wanted to leave. The perfect place, the most convenient place. We were all dependent on the place that badly…we didn’t leave. The rich upper floors decided the poorer lower floors must be killed. People exchanged their wives for food. Then…there were murders…”

He took a shaky puff, letting out the air. His eyes were a little vacant, staring out the window onto the city of Asgard as he continued to speak. Still, you listened.

“I was scared- always scared. And angry. I beat someone. Hid myself. Took another lover- and she said…she called me the best amenity here. Then it struck me- at first I wanted a release, to drown in lust. It was fine at first. But now…no one held me. Talked to me. Asked me how my day was. They didn’t…they didn’t want to see me. Hold me. But I realized…they didn’t give a fuck about me. Just wanted my cock- and they hadn’t changed. With everything breaking down…I…I broke down too. I was so scared, so angry, so alone. I…I broke down.”

“What do you remember about it?” you asked.

“I was covered in paint. I kept muttering things. I remember at the time, my mind was racing- so many thoughts- too fast to catch. I was covered in paint all the time. Eating dog food- it was all we had. I was always scared. I would switch. Euphoria one minute. Terror the next. Fury the next. I couldn’t do anything. But listen to music and paint and drink scour for what little food there was and try not to get killed-”

He paused. Taking a look back at you.

“Robert…that sounds like a nightmare…” you remarked.

He took another puff of a cigarette. 

 “Then one day Loki found me. He appeared right out of thin air. I kept yelling at him to get away from me. He dragged me to Asgard, kicking and screaming. Literally. Forced me to see healers and gave me a bath and a shave. He forced me to clean up. He had me take all these potions, these things…with all sorts of what they have here. They gave me medicines to take daily. I did, even if they were bitter. He made sure I was fed, safe, and clean every day. Then…then I…I wasn’t as scared. My mind didn’t race. It was still. I felt at peace. Now, it didn’t all happen overnight- but it did happen.”

You folded your arms and sat next to him on his chair. He took another slow drag of a cigarette adn then smushed it away.

“I never want to go back to that High-Rise ever again. It’ll break me. Then I will refuse any offers to leave. Then I’ll just break others. And I doubt I’ll get out alive…”

You took in a deep breath. Then you spoke with a soothing tone. 

“It’s over…but it still haunts you- Munrow, the building, the violence- no wonder you broke down. Yet…the building became a trap for everyone. And Munrow…chose what he chose to do. Nothing with you.”

“I feel like his killer. And maybe in that state, I did kill someone, or something, and didn’t know it…it’s like destruction won’t leave me. What if it comes back again, that’s what keeps me awake at night…” he fretted.

“Munrow’s drunken choice was his drunken choice- not yours. And look at you now- learning how to fight! Sparring with soldiers. Surviving among gods. Solving riddles and collecting spellbooks. Offering to help for the greater good! You suffered from guilt and shame and your horrendous experience- and you survived! What would your sister think of you doing all this now? Robert, wallowing won’t help you move on- I know! I’m sure I’ve stopped crying my tears over my own recent pain!”

He looks at you.

“The pain never leaves you. And you can’t control the worries.”

He picked off a piece of invisible lint from his pants. You offered your hand and he took it. 

“But this time, if the…madness ever re-appears. We will be prepared. There are healers here. If I ever start to…you know, show some signs…just tell us.”

“I don’t want any of them to be afraid of me, including you…”

You shook your head.

“I won’t let being afraid interfere with getting you help. I will help you. Loki helped you. We will all help you, Robert!” you promised.

You felt his hand relax, the pulse slowing. You saw him soften. He even smiled a little.

“Thank you.” 

You looked about the room.

“With your new life here, and these walls with it’s new color- you’re not a creature of destruction, Robert. You’re one of creation!” you said. 

His smile increased, and the same old Robert sparkled back in his eyes. He then walked over to the paint cans. Then as he went over to you, he picked up an extra paintbrush that was lying on a little table. 

“Would you like to help a little? It needs a second coat,” he offered. 

“I would love to help,” you answered.

Dipping a brush into the can of paint, the gooey wet stuff dripped down. He pointed to a part of the wall and you began to paint a little of it. Who cared if a few little stains got on your dress? It felt good and you saw Robert indeed calmed down with each stroke. It wasn’t long before Loki arrived, knocking on the door. His voice with a forced calm to it.

“Why- Robert, what is YN doing in your room? She went to find you and was gone for a while!” he said. 

The doctor smirked and then laughed a little. 

“We were only talking and painting the room!” he insisted.

Going over to the table, you picked up another paintbrush. You offered it to Loki.

“Would you like to help us? Don’t use your magic, it’s far more satisfying to do it yourself!” you suggested.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your arms were a little sore by dinner, and not just from having to do pushups. Though as all of you sat around the table- You, Loki and the variants, Stella, and Sif. In walked Thor excitedly.

“Exciting news, dear brother and friends! This next month is the annual Starfall Ball here in Asgard!” he announced.

Loki and Sif only nodded. But the others looked among them. Thomas’s eyes went big.

“A Starfall Ball?” he asked.

Thor grinned, nodding his head.

“The night when the stars all begin to fall through the sky in one of the most beautiful displays in the nine realms. Father and Mother are hosting a ball beneath the stars to celebrate!” he announced.

You nearly jumped in your seat, your hands tingling. 

“Oh! How beautiful! I’ve been to dances but- a ball! A ball, Stella!” you cried, looking at her sitting next to you. 

Stella’s thick, pink lips parted slightly. Then it broke into a smile. 

“It sounds lovely! I must stay to go! Oh, but YN, I don’t think I have anything to wear! I doubt any of the clothes Loki brought from home are grand enough for a palace ball!”

“Oh, we’ll discuss it later! We will decide what to wear. Our own clothes or perhaps ask Loki to conjure something Or we’ll go shopping!”

Loki glanced towards you at his name being mentioned.

“The fashions of all the Asgardian ladies are fascinating…” Stella commented.

Hal smiled and then looked over the table. 

“Well then- it shall be a mirthful affair-Why, how fares our good sirs Pine and Sharpe?” he asked.

Thomas scrunched his face and then released it. Jonathan’s hands at the table merely turned to fists.

“It’s far harder than we think. It’s hard to translate. And hard to make…” Thomas answered.

“Perhaps you- all of you- could use a bit of levity with this ball,” Robert said. “And we better start to learn how they dance here in Asgard.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had a dream that night.

In the dream, you were close to back home. The forest of Aldwinter.

First- you sensed a presence. A creature. He seemed at first like a tall gorilla, with a large red mouth full of sharp teeth. Standing like a human. Claws and ears like a devil. Grendel- sure enough. You knew it was him. Scary and with bright eyes. 

Then there was a glimmer of gold magic that glittered down him. The magic gave him a humanlike form. He had pale skin and dark hair with a full beard. Bright green eyes. A black suit. Smirking as he looked down from the trees onto the town.  Then with a strut, he began to walk towards the town.

Then it changed. You were back in the town. The dirt streets made muddy when it poured rain. The sight of rolling hills and the smell and sound of the ocean. Where every house was white.

You felt the urge to cough, and when you looked down at your fist there was blood. And you were wearing your engagement ring. You looked at your clothes- your old white nightgown. White like a bridal gown. White like death. 

Then you heard laughter. Music. You looked back up.

 The scene changed. 

It was night and you were inside. It was the wooden hall...the wooden hall for the dances. Candles were lit with their orange glow over the dark night sky from the windows. There was a crowd gathering. Some are in dark dresses, but all nice.

Why-yes a dance was happening! Dance like you and Stella and the other ladies would go to…a dance where once, a time ago, a vicar asked you to dance and you said-

You saw him. Not alone.

In the center dancing, there was Will. With Cora. He was in a tuxedo. She was in a grey dress. Her golden blonde hair- so bright it shone against everything, so garishly yellow it was blinding. A back hair fell down the nape of her neck to show how beautiful she was without trying, without controlling. As you always tried too hard to be beautiful. Smiling bright- tension between them. They kept dancing.

You felt sick. So sick- like you were going to retch. And your breaths were fast, hyperventilating. Hurt and fear and grief washing over you.

You tried to walk forward, but then a lady in a dark-colored dress stepped in front of you.

“Oh, how beautiful!”  she sighed.

You tried to step forward- to reach there. Charge in, stop him. But a member of the party always stepped in. Never able to get to them.

“No- you all don’t understand. He asked me to be his wife. I said yes. I fell in love with him, and he with me- we’re engaged! We’re about to be married! He promised himself to me.”

They kept waltzing. Looks of love and longing and tension between them.

It made you want to scream.

The crowd pushed you further behind. 

“Oh- it’s such a sweet love story!” said one lady.

You turned to her nudging her so she faced you.

“But he’s engaged to me! We’re about to be married!” you cried.

She snorted, shoving your hand away. Ignoring you as if you never existed. As if you didn’t matter. 

You kept trying forward, reaching the crowd. The never-ending waltz between them continued. The music getting louder. The audience even applauded. Reaching through and failing.

You tried to get through, tried to get through the crowd, to reach them- to grab Will, to stop the dance, but you kept getting shoved aside.

“Please! Take me there! I’m his fiancee! He’s going to be my husband soon!” you pleaded. 

And each person ignored you. You tried showing them the engagement ring, and they ignored you. 

You ran forward- but their arms grabbed you back. There were tears, and you began to beg your fiancee. He ignored you- entranced in his dance with the widow. 

“Will! Stop it now! Will, please! I don’t allow it! I don’t allow you to dance with her at all! Please stop it!” you cried out.

They kept dancing, the music getting louder and overwhelming with the applause. You kept calling out to him, your voice half a scream.

“Will- stop it! Stop dancing with her! I’m going to be your wife! You love me and I love you! We’re about to be married- please stop it! Stop dancing with her! Will! PLEASE! WILL”

Cora then grabbed his face and kissed him in front of everyone.

You awoke with a startle. Your heart racing fast. The lights of the dance hall were gone. Now the blackness of your room.

You weren’t in Aldwinter. You weren’t even in that realm! You were in Asgard in the chambers you lived in.

Yet the nightmare still had you by your neck. You were trembling. You thought this was done, that you were strong. Time had passed. There were whole days and weeks and now months you didn’t think about it- then it came crashing back.

No…you loved. Loved deeply. And you were still betrayed. You tried to think of any way you were flawed- any mistake- anything you said and did wrong. The wrong step, anything. 

Maybe that was why he did it- as punishment. So the second you slipped up, put a toe out of line from his internal wishes…another would be in his heart and bed. Snatching your place.

Yes, you had friendships here, old and new from all over…but not…not love. No, you were cursed. You had to be. How could you fall in love again after that? How could you ever hope for romance again? You knew what happened last time. The burn of tears in your chest, swelling up to your face.

“It’s better I stay alone. If I stay a spinster. I’ll never be enough for anyone…and if I let myself…if I let myself love like that again…I’ll just end up hurt. if I let myself…feel that for any man…he’s going meet someone better, as Will did, and it won’t matter if he’s sworn to me - I’m either too flawed or too boring. And he’ll leave me and…and…and…” you thought as you curled up in a ball.

The trembling continued, the overwhelm, the lump, the burning in the back of your eyes.

I’m not worthy of love…I never was. And I never will be.

It then all broke on you, tears fell down like a storm. You began to cry. And then the cry became a sob. Sobbing hard as you sat up, curled up on the bed. Like you were at the tree in the woods that fateful morning. Sucking in a deep breath, another, big, loud, deep sob rung out of you.

The door flung open, and to your surprise, Loki was there, clothed in his normal Asgardian clothes. 

“YN! YN? Are you alright?” he asked, a bit more worried than his usual calm, controlled self.

“I had a dream of…of…” you blubbered out, crying hard, your knees curling up to your chest, feeling snot in your nose. 

“Your thoughts were quite loud- you’re not the only one who can hear each other’s nightmares. You don’t need to tell me what the dream was about, I heard it all clearly…here…”

He embraced you. You let him- what did it matter who hugged you? The notorious Trickster God- you needed an embrace, arms, and security. You embraced him. Smelling the sweet scent they washed his clothes with here and the cold smoothness of the cloth, the leathers.

There were footsteps. In hurried Stella with her blue shawl around her nightgown. Her blonde hair freed and down to her shoulders. Loki released the hug and offered a hand to help you out of bed. Stella at once ran to you, her small hands touching your arms.

“YN! YN! What is it?! What’s wrong?” she asked.

“What are you doing up?” you asked back.

“Loki woke me- said he could sense you were in trouble! I couldn’t just stand there! Has something happened, are you alright? Hurt?” she insisted.

You looked down. “I had a dream about Will…” you explained. “I saw him…with Mrs. Seaborne.”

“Oh, you poor dear!!” Loki released his arm as Stella went to hug you. She rocked you back and forth as you clung to her. You let out more tears.

“It’s alright…it’s just a dream, there there, it will be alright…” she consoled.

She turned to the god, watching with soft eyes on you both. 

“Water always makes one feel better after crying. Could you conjure some water, please, Prince Loki?” she asked.

He raised an eyebrow at the word “prince” and smiled. Then he conjured a glass of water and handed it to you. You gulped it all down, cold and sweet. You did feel how the water once in your body replenished you after all of your crying.

“Tell me all about it- don’t hide it in you,” Stella advised.

You told them what you dreamt of, omitting the first part about Grendel in front of Stella. Loki looked at you, listening intently to all of it. 

“It is still quite upsetting…do you need to speak any more about it?” he asked.

“I…I…I’d like to…to be distracted,” you replied.

Loki put his hands in his pockets.

‘I doubt the gardens that our dear friend Stella is so fond of is too dark- perhaps I’ll escort you ladies to the library- plenty of stories to distract you there. I have certain recommendations that should delight two beautiful, bookish ladies such as yourselves,” he crooned out.

Stella grinned at him in appreciation. She took you by the arm as Loki walked you down the hall. She turned to you, squeezing your hand. 

“We’re going to find something to read- separate or together. So we can have a little book club between us! And this morning, right after we eat, we’re both going to find ourselves new dresses for the Starfall Ball as you said. We’ll explore the city too! See what it is they wear and decide if we want to try them on! It’s going to be such good fun!” Stella encouraged.

You nodded at her.

“Yes, it is going to be,” you replied, feeling a smile return on your face. 

You glanced back at Loki as he walked you through the stone halls. You sent a thought out.

“Why is it you’re comforting me with my nightmare…but I can’t comfort you about yours…”

“I’m not the one who needs it,” was all he replied.

You wondered if the God of Mischief was lying. To you. To himself.

[musikat18]

Courters and Kisses: Valentine’s Request! (Skurge x Reader)

Pairing: Skurge x Reader

For: @bsotstory

Summary: As a scribe of Asgard, you don’t have much to do beyond record decrees, and that’s how you kind of prefer it. Around the Thor-instituted “Valentine’s Day,” though, you become an artisan of handmade cards and letters for lovers...and a warrior of Asgard has come to you for help.

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day! I do kind of owe you guys something sweet, so here you go! Enjoy, especially to Ash, who requested this lovely fic~

Truthfully, you’d never given much thought to Prince Thor’s attempts to bring Midgardian traditions to Asgard. You were a scribe and a writer; Midgardian traditions were an interest, but nothing much to fuss over, although you could at least tell that Prince Thor’s Midgardian woman had snapped him out of the recent funk he’d been in over Loki’s grand betrayal of the kingdom.

At the very least, this festival in particular gave you a little more business than usual. Valentine’s Day, the young prince had called it when he explained it to you. Midgardians exchanged gifts and letters with those they held dear, be it a lover or a friend or a family member or simply a random act of kindness.

Most every Asgardian could read and write, but you were known for your scribe services and neat calligraphy. Often, you would record mandates from King Odin or pass on messages for the masses, but for festivals such as this new one, you had become a source of specialized letters and cards, decorated for the occasion.

You didn’t regret the extra work, of course, although sometimes your heart ached seeing all the happy couples while you always went home alone.

(You shuddered at the idea of attending feasts and large parties. The quill was your strong suit-- not social gatherings.)

There was a sturdy knock at your door, and when you opened it, you were almost surprised to see one of the lesser-known warriors of Asgard standing behind it: Skurge.

Like you, he seemed to keep to himself, if only to flirt with the occasional maiden. Ruggedly handsome and broad-shouldered with soft hazel eyes making a lovely contrast to his harsh frame, you understood where the attraction came from, but you didn’t know him well enough to decide for yourself what your opinion of him was.

“Skurge,” you bowed your head for a moment and allowed him in. “How may I assist you?”

“Are you still taking orders for those valentine things?”

You nodded, “I’m nearly booked up, considering the celebration is next week, though I am still taking orders.”

“Alright...I need a letter for...someone,” he said. You settled back at your desk, tilting your head at his strangely tense demeanor.

“Like, a Valentine’s letter? For who?”

“...I’d rather not say, yet,” he shifted his weight to the other side. “I just want to know if you’ll do it.”

“Of course I will,” you said. “I just want to know what you want it to say and what kind of embellishments you want on it.” He pursed his lips and avoided your gaze.

“Well…” he measured his words, “I don’t...know a lot about her.” You furrowed your brow, which seemed to coax an explanation out of him, “She’s not very talkative...keeps to herself a lot. I haven’t quite figured how to win her over, so I was hoping you’d be able to help me write it.”

This was a new request. Usually, people came in with long, gushing odes that needed severe retooling for any reasonable price to be applied, but you’d never been requested to help author one before.

“You do realize I’ve never been courted by anyone,” you said bluntly. “I’m probably the last person who knows how to actually author an entire love letter.”

“I just...think you’ll have the best intuition about her. You two seem awfully similar,” he reasoned, “and I’ll pay handsomely.”

“You really don’t have to pay that much for it,” you offered. “I wouldn’t want to charge you any more than I would for any other work.”

Skurge dropped a heavy bag of gold on your desk, and he turned pleading puppy eyes on you.

“I’d do anything for this person,” he said seriously. “I want to make sure it’ll be perfect.”

Temptation crashed over you like a wave (whether it was from his piercing gaze or the promise of a good profit, you weren’t sure), but you took only the proper proportion of currency from the bag and pushed the rest back at the tall man.

“Gather as much information as you can about your love and come to me tomorrow,” you promised. “I will come prepared to draft something then.”

He gave you a grateful smile that fluttered your insides in an unfamiliar way, bowed his head, and left with the remainder of his money.

-

“You have nothing?” you raised your eyebrows at him when he returned the next day. “Not one scrap of personality or interest?”

“I don’t talk to her on a daily basis,” he grumbled. “It would be hard to broach the matter without giving my intentions away, and I’ve only spoken with her once before today.”

You were more than a little frustrated at the lack of information to go on, but you kept your cool and moved on to the next best question.

“Alright...what about...uhm...what do you know about her, exactly? Anything beyond appearance and being on the reserved side?”

He pulled up a chair and sat in it, crossing his arms over the frame of the back so that he could lean towards you while speaking, “She’s never been courted before...I learned that rather recently.”

“Well, I can at least relate to that,” you said with a dry laugh. “Let’s start there. She likely might not be receptive, if she hasn’t had this kind of experience before. You might have to convince her that your intentions are true.”

He shifted nervously at your comment, so you chewed your lip as you tried to put a positive spin on it.

“I think it should describe what’s drawn you to her...how serious is this letter going to be?”

“...I want her to know just how beautiful and special I think she is,” he gave you those sweetly sincere eyes again. “I just think she might feel overlooked, so I want her to know she hasn’t been...that someone does actually want to get to know her.”

You smiled warmly at him, “Then that’s what we’re going to do. Let me get my drafting paper and we can get started.”

He gave you a confident smile that you had only seen him give maidens of the court before as you pulled out a scroll to begin drafting ideas.

You had to hand it to Skurge; he seemed to be a very attentive admirer, even if it was in secret. You’d never pegged him as the type to notice the shine in a lady’s hair or the kindness in her eyes when she performed a selfless errand or the simple pleasure she seemed to take while sitting alone in a small garden. If she didn’t seem so agreeable, you might have been jealous of the reverence he appeared to hold for her.

When you finished a draft based on his words, you passed him the scroll to look over. A soft smile spread across his face as he scanned the parchment; it was a pleasant expression of his that was much nicer than you might not have expected of him before.

“It’s perfect,” he said.

“I just wrote as if it was for myself,” you shrugged. “There was certainly a lot about this secret woman of yours that I could relate to easily enough to write something.”

“Ah, yes,” he shifted his weight backwards, dipping his head slightly. “I’m...glad that is came to you with such ease. Do you think it will be done by Valentine’s?”

“Certainly,” you nodded. “Return to me the morn of the festival and I’ll make sure you have it in time to deliver it to her. She’s very lucky, you know, to have such a thoughtful suitor.”

You thought you saw a blush on the warrior’s cheeks, “I hope she feels the same when I reveal myself to her.”

Skurge turned and left without much more to say, and you began work on your many projects for the celebration at hand.

Even though it wasn’t you he was seeking to impress, you’d be happy for him nonetheless.

-

You had barely had time to start sorting out the areas of the city to deliver letters and cards to on the morning of the Valentine festivities when there was a knock at your shop’s door; you weren’t as surprised, this time, to find Skurge there, holding a large bouquet of flowers, likely one of the breeds Prince Thor had discovered on Midgard.

“Is it ready?” he asked, stepping inside when you allowed him in. You nodded and sifted through your pile.

“You never gave me a recipient, so I planned on delivering it to you in the barracks if you didn’t come by now.”

It didn’t take you long to find the embellished letter you had written as per Skurge’s request. You had copied it onto a sturdier parchment with a magically gilded black ink, the letters neatly curving along the page in your neat penmanship. You had even sketched a delicate rose along the top of the letter, the rich red paint standing out beautifully on the tastefully yellowed parchment. You passed the letter to Skurge, and he looked positively pleased with how it had turned out.

“It’s perfect,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

To your surprise, instead of turning to leave and make his delivery, Skurge held out the flowers and the letter to you with a shy smile.

You, being the creature of social grace that you were, blinked stupidly, “...Pardon?”

His face fell slightly as he took in your confusion, “I...this was meant for you. I...I thought you might have figured it out.”

You continued spilling rather dumb and obvious statements from your mouth, “I...no, I didn’t. I- I just assumed...they’re never for me. I don’t...I’m not...it can’t be for me.”

“No, no, it is,” he insisted, placing his flowers and letter on your desk and looking rather sheepish. “I just...I’m not...words are...not my strong suit. I had absolutely no idea what to say to you...so...I figured...who better to write a letter for you than...you?”

For once, you had absolutely no words.

“We’ve barely ever spoken face-to-face,” you whispered. “I mean, sure, you’ve always been an impressive warrior...I...I’m just not the type to...I’ve never done this before.”

“You...intrigue me,” he admitted quietly, placing a gentle hand on your cheek to bring your eyes to his. “If you don’t see me as a good fit for you, I completely understand...I just had to tell you...all I needed was the words…. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”

Little did he know, you were feeling quite the contrary. Your heart was beating loudly against your chest-- you hoped to Bor that he couldn’t hear it-- and you were mesmerized by the delicate blend of green and brown that made his eyes.

“I, um,” you felt just as shy as he seemed to be, “I...wouldn’t be opposed to...perhaps trying. Pursuing a courtship, I mean. I don’t really know where to start, though.”

Skurge’s characteristic roguish confidence seemed to return as he smiled, “I could kiss you, if that’s what you wish.”

“I’ve never been courted. What makes you think I know how to kiss?”

“Then you need a teacher,” he suggested, and when you gave him a tiny nod of approval, he dipped his head down to meet yours, applying a gentle pressure to your lips. The sensation of butterflies overtook your stomach as a wave of bliss wracked your body, and you tentatively placed your hands on his muscled, armored shoulders. He slipped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, facial hair scraping softly along your chin. The kiss only lasted a few sweet moments before he pulled away with a lovelorn smile, gazing into your eyes as you suddenly missed the subtle lines of his lips on yours.

“...We can do that again later, right?” you gushed shyly. “After I make my rounds? I’m sorry, I feel like that was horrible.”

“It was perfect,” he assured you, “and if that is what you want, there’s no reason for there to not be more later.”

He kissed your cheek once more and promised to return later, leaving you giddy and alight, running your fingers over your lips before going back to sorting your deliveries for the day.

A first kiss and a surprise admirer? You were beginning to rather like this Midgardian holiday.

Tagging: @lauuerodz @taylorjacksonandtheolympians @bsotstory @annathewitch

[shutupanddance]

18 or 26 with Skurge from Ragnarok? I’m not sure if you write for his character, but it’s alright if you don’t!

I do write for him! I wasn’t sure how to write this one, and it took a couple of drafts, so I hope it worked out and you like it! :)

- You’re a part of Heimdall’s extended family, which means it’s your job to care for the Bifrost and keep it clean.

- Odin has changed a bit in recent years, and you’re pretty sure it’s actually Loki and not him (let’s be honest, everyone knows), but everyone seems to be fine with it. Except for you.

- With the leadership change, more people have been coming in and out of Asgard. This means more gross feet tracking in dirt, and more strangers badgering you with questions about the Bifrost that you don’t know the answer to. But there is one specific person who really grinds your gears. The only problem is, you don’t know WHO he is.

- Every day, after lunch, you find a trail of muddy boot prints on the Bifrost. They’re pretty nasty, but there’s no indication of whose they are, and it would be a waste of time to launch some sort of forensic investigation into it. So, one day, you skip your lunch break and decide to hide and wait for the culprit to show himself.

- You’re tucked away in the Bifrost gate when Skurge comes back to Asgard after his lunch break. He always goes to Midgard for it, though you can’t imagine why. He’s been severely overworked these days, so you guess he just wants out of the chaos. You’ve had your eyes on him for some time, and he’s shown you around his collection of Midgardian things plenty of times, but what you never expected was that he’d be the source of the muddy boot tracks.

- You jump out of hiding and start yelling about how hard it is to keep the Bifrost clean, and you’re expecting him to try and smooth talk his way out of it, but he just looks guilty.

- He apologizes profusely, saying he hadn’t realized he was doing it.

- You can tell he is honest, and with all the running around “Odin” has him doing, you’re not surprised.

- But when you don’t react immediately, Skurge takes this badly, and offers to buy you lunch as a compensation.

- You agree.

- The thing is, he tracks in mud the very next day. But before you can hurl something at him, he says “oh, I guess I have to buy you lunch again to make up for this time?”

He’s got a grin on his face and you both know what’s up.

- So it becomes a tradition.

BONUS:

- Skurge gives attack hugs because he’s a dork. He’ll always announce it first.

“Attack hug!!”

- Sometimes he takes you down to Midgard for dinner! He usually ends up fist-fighting some guy who tried to flirt with you every time, though.

[bakerstreethound]

Star Trek Masterlist

Leonard McCoy

Not Alone | Best Night of Our Lives | Melt | In Your Arms | Wanted 

Miracle (Skurge the Executioner)

Khan Noonien Sigh

So Wicked & Divine 

*These are totally self indulgent fics. I write all my McCoy fics for @pandaqueen7799​ & Khan I do for myself only. 

[emily-strange]

Shag, Marry, Kill part 2

Carrying on from @below-average-fangirl 🥳 (I hope you don't mind!!)

John Kennex, Skurge and Bones!

Marry is pretty bloody easy for me, Leonard McCoy is the love of my life. In any form 😂

I totally thought when I started this it'd be a different answer but now I'm here....I'm doing it....Shag Skurge and Kill (I feel awful) John!

I just don't think I could pass up the chance to shag an Asgardian 😂😬

I'm also stealing the original taglist (again, really hope you don't mind 🙏🏻)

But jump in if you want to answer too!

@below-average-fangirl @billybutchersbabe @nora-hewlett @urban-trek-thru-middle-earth @brideofedoras

[below-average-fangirl]

Road Trip

Fandom: Thor Ragnarok

Pairing: Skurge/ Female Reader

Warnings: Smut

Summary: Skurge shows up and whisks you off for a weekend getaway. You have some fun in the car on the way

A/N: Part of a series of drabbles called Smut with Skurge. Although I love @billybutchersbabe​ description of it as Smut Snacks. And once again I thank her for her feedback on this. 

Link to story on AO3

Fan Fiction Masterlist

It had been 6 weeks since the sexual adonis had shown up at your bar. Every Friday since then he would turn up, like clockwork, drink until closing, and then fuck you till you couldn’t walk. He only ever stayed till Saturday night and having to wait a whole week to see him again was becoming torture.

The only thing you knew about him was his name, Skurge. Everything else was sketchy. He was vague about what he did for a living, but what he did for a living was not how he made his money. He had a few family heirlooms which he would sell now and again to get some cash. And it was impossible to reach him when he was out of town. You were beginning to wonder how long you could carry on with him like this when a thunderous knock on the door of the fire exit started you.

"Jesus."

You stood up from behind your desk heart pounding as you made your way to the small hallway to the fire exit. You pushed the door open.

"What!" But your anger died on your lips when you saw it was the 6'1 sex God making all the racket. "Hey."

"Morning beautiful." He said smiling as he gave you a kiss, his hand finding its way to your arse.

You moaned into his mouth, "You're early for our rendezvous?" You beamed as you pulled apart, "You miss me?"

"I always miss ya, sweetheart,” You blushed as he continued, “which is why I’ve come to whisk you away for your weekend.” When he stepped aside you saw for the first time the 1965 Pontiac GTO convertible, in a garish mustard yellow, behind him. You looked back at Skurge who was beaming with pride.

“What, right now?” You queried, careful not to dampen his joy.

“Yeah. I sold a load of useless old tat that the antique dealers just fell over themselves for.” He held up a duffle bag he was holding. “I am swimming in money. Let's go spend it.”

“But I-I can’t just leave. I can’t just close the bar for a whole weekend. I barely make enough money to keep this place going as it is.”

Skurge zipped open the duffle bag. “Alright. How much do ya normally make Friday to Sunday?” He held up a wad of cash. It barely dented what was in there, “$5000 cover it?”

You spluttered in disbelief. “What the hell did you sell?”

He shrugged. “Some Viking amulets apparently,” He handed the money to you. “So is this enough?”

You flipped through the bills in your hand, it was all real. “I mean it's more than enough.”

“Great.” He enthused, “So close up and let's go.”

You stood there open-mouthed. Your rational mind listing all the reasons why this was irresponsible. But then he gave you that soft look and charming smile as he placed a palm to your cheek.

“Let me make up for all those times I've had to run out on ya.”

Your closed your eyes as his thumb traced the outline of your bottom lip and your heartbeat quickened when you felt his breath on your ear, his voice low and husky as he spoke.

“Let me treat ya like a Queen.”

***

You grinned from ear to ear as the Pontiac thundered down the highway. Top-down, sun shining, the wind in your hair.

After leaving the standard Closed for Personal Business sign in the window of the bar, Skurge had honked the horn urging you to hurry, you’d shouted from the doorway that you needed to pack. But he’d simply held up the duffle bag of cash and shouted. “I’ll buy ya a whole new wardrobe if I need to. Let’s hit the road.”

As you leaned back into the leather seat you turned your head to look at Skurge. He was smiling, happy, as he sang along to some soft rock on the radio, his long elegant fingers drumming against the steering wheel. Your eyes drifted across his tanned arm, exposed as the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to the elbow. You watched, fascinated, as the muscles flexed at his movements. You bit your lip.

After shifting gear he rested his hand on your bare knee. His fingertips draw small circles against your skin. Placing a hand on top of his you smiled at him wickedly and guided his hand up your leg. As he slipped his hand under your short dress his fingers trailed along your inner thigh. You squirmed in the seat. His eyes flitted between the straight road laid out before him and the expanse of skin exposed as your dress rode up your body. Just as his fingertips reached your panties he removed his hand to shift gear again. You pouted at him as he gave you a wicked grin in return.

Pushing your dress up further you hook your thumbs into the elastic of your panties and lift your bum off the seat. Shuffling you push your underwear down your legs and over your shoes, Skurge had stopped looking at the road and watched you intently. You held your panties up in the air, like a flag of surrender, before allowing the wind to rip them from your grip. Parting your legs you took hold of Skurge’s arm and guided his hand back between your legs.

“Don’t tease your queen.”

He marveled at your forthrightness. “Yes, your majesty.”

Slipping a finger into your cunt and he began to move it slowly against your clit. You arched your back at his touch, the leather of the seat creaking as you moved and moaned in pleasure.

“Eyes on the road mister.”

“Don’t worry babe I got ya,” and he slipped another finger into you, “you’re in safe hands.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he increased the pace of his fingers against your clit. “Mmm,” You groaned, “and such magical hands.”

As you neared your orgasm you could hear the engine begin to rev. It needed to be shifted into another gear and you could feel Skurge was about to remove his fingers from you but you grabbed his wrist to hold his hand in place between your legs. You heard him laugh, low and deep in his throat but he kept his hand in there.

The engine of the Pontiac began to scream, crying out for the gear to be shifted. As he increased the speed of his strokes your breathing became ragged and your hand reached out to grab his leg, the fabric of his jeans between your fingers. You moved your hips back and forth to help push you over the edge and in a few more strokes you climaxed, your strangled cries snatched from your throat and carried away by the wind.

Skurge removed his fingers from between your legs and you giggled. “Fuck.” You breathed as you came to your senses, realizing what you had just done at almost 70 miles per hour.

Feel drunk on your orgasm you glanced over at Skurge and saw him licking your juices from his fingers. "Nothing tastes as good as you darlin’."

Smiling you leaned across the car, "You have served your queen well," you purred and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips, "now let me reward my faithful servant." Grinning as your fingers worked to loosen his belt buckle.

[mlm-writer]

Bath (Skurge x Platonic!Male!Reader)

Pairing: Skurge x Platonic!Cis!Male!Reader   Rating: PG-13 (I say penis once) Words: 608 Summary: Skurge is your sparring buddy and for the first time you two bathe together after a sparring session. Good bromance.  Note: Y’all should know that I watched Ragnarok for Karl Urban and Karl Urban only and I have no recollection of anything but ‘behold, my stuff’. So this is Gayden AU, meaning screw canon I make the rules here. Also 90% of my MCU knowledge comes from reading Spiderman fics. Tags: Bromance, mild violence, no one gets hurt (badly), sparring, Skurge is a good boy, no beta we die like men  

“Oh great guardian of the Bifrost Bridge, it seems time has passed you by, again.” You crossed your arms as you entered Himinbjorg, seeing your sparring partner occupied with two ladies, rather than you. 

Skurge looked up, grinning at you as he abruptly stood up. “Ladies, I think we have a show today,” he announced as he walked up to you. 

The two women giggled as their eyes went from Skurge to you and back. You shrugged. “Very well, I didn’t think you wanted to get your ass handed to you in company.” You exchanged cocky grins, wordlessly getting in position. You’ve been doing this almost daily. It was easy to get along with Skurge. He was simple-minded, not sly and deceiving as some Asgardians were. You liked that about him. He said what he thought and he meant what he said. 

Close combat was still a weak spot for you. You were best with long-ranged weapons, but as Odin had been acting off lately, you felt the need to be more useful in combat. Somehow you ended up sparring with Skurge and it just stuck. He gave you a good punch to the jaw and a solid kick to your side, but you returned the favour with a kick to his legs and a punch in his shoulder. 

You kept trash talking each other in between Skurge giving you some pointers. At some point the women were forgotten and it was just you and him, rolling over the floor, fighting dirtier with the second. By the time you two were done for, you lied both on the floor, one arm slung loosely over the other in a vague gesture of the intent of a headlock. Skurge lifted his head. “The ladies left,” he stated. You hummed in reply. 

“We’ve been at it for longer than usual,” you replied. He let out a grunt. You chilled on the floor for some time, catching your breath and fighting the lazy urge to just lie there. “I’m gonna take a bath before my sweat permanently glues my armour to my skin,” you announced, the visual of your own words encouraging you to actually stand up. Skurge followed your lead. 

“Good idea, let’s bathe together,” he announced, before grabbing your arm and helping you up. 

“Wait, what?” You followed him automatically though. He did not answer you as he lead the way. “We’ve never done this before,” you stated, a little confused and a little panicked. You were no stranger to communal baths, but bathing with Skurge was new, not weird, but new and therefore a little scary. 

Skurge was already half undressing and you kept reciting ‘don’t look at his penis’ in your head as he walked naked to the filled tub. 

“We should. It is good bonding,” he announced over his shoulder as he got in. He turned and relaxed in the water, eyeing you suspiciously. “Go on, get undressed and join me!”

You felt the peer pressure. Never in your life had you undressed this slowly. You could feel Skurge’s eyes burning into your skin, but you did not know where exactly. You avoided his eyes as you held your hands in front of your crotch and walked over. 

“You’re shy,” he stated. Thanks, captain obvious. “Don’t be. You're a strong, handsome lad with a mighty penis.” You doubled over as you laughed. You almost forgot. This was Skurge. He was not going to judge you for anything. You forced your hands to your sides and awkwardly got into the bath, the stiffness in your muscles slowly disappearing in the hot water and company of a great friend. 

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

I. Love. Skurge!!

Give him to me! Lol

Love Note #2

Happy Valentine’s Day!!!

This year I decided to write little love notes from various characters, but there was a twist! No one knew what character they were choosing or what the prompts were! Which might be a thing I’m going to stick with for future challenges like this ;)

So let’s get to the reveal shall we?

Love Note #2

Requested by: @impalaanddemons 

Character B: Skurge

Quote 2: If you are not too long, i will wait here for you all my life

Pet Name 33: My Love

A/N - Just as the first note, this ended up being my first time writing for Skurge ;)

BTW all of these are gender neutral!!!

Keep reading

[avengers-having-fun]

Hela: I've always thought I'd be a good leader.

Skurge: Boy, I don't know. I mean, if you want to be leader one day, you'll have to be bossy, controlling, full of yourself... oh, wait.

Hela: Behave, or I'll have you beheaded.

[thefanficfaerie]

Weekly Reading List 4

Weekly Recommendations get posted every Saturday. All stories are character x reader unless otherwise stated. Graphic by the awesome @wonders-of-the-multiverse.

How do my rec lists work? Why did my story not make it on the list?

Tropes AU Lead Me On by @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse Jim Kirk

Royal AU  Her Royal Favor Part 3 by @promarvelfangirl

Historical AU Pirate Hearts Part 10-13 by @not-close-to-straight Stuckony The Sheriff Part 3 by @kaunis-sielu Steve Rogers

Soulmate AU Distant Beauty by @thecharlietoyourhermione

Daddy!Character

A/B/O Dynamics Pack Mentality Part 2 by @senorita-stucky Stucky We Don’t Want Your Broken Parts by Kermits_Soft_Kitty Stuckony

Modern AU My Girl by @kaunis-sielu Biker!Steve Online Part 1/Part 2 by @thevalesofanduin McKirk Boundaries Part 12 by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord Steve Rogers  Our Two Dads and S’mores Experiment Part 7 by @randomlittleimp Got A Taste to Adore You by @d0ctorsorders McKirk Neighbors by @janeykath318 Jim Kirk  Goosebumps by @helmaninquiel Eomer  Home by @pinkamour1588 McKirk Grab My Ass by @pinkamour1588 McKirk Billion Dollar Man by @marvelous-fvcks Tony Stark After All Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2 by @mywritingsblog Stucky

Avengers Steve Rogers Tinder Bait by @wordlesscaptain Rise Up Part 18 by @tilltheendwilliwrite Average Avenger’s Gal by @writers-square Will You Be My Princess by @ruckystarnes The Night We Met Part 2 by @avengerofyourheart To Let Go by @kalliria Jealousy by @starkerparker

Tony Stark Midnight Rendevous Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 by @champion-ofthe-sun NSFW Cuddles and Headaches by @biebermilkovich Did You Even Love Me by @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes Practice Makes Perfect by @emilyevanston NSFW

Steve Rogers x Tony Stark

Steve Rogers x Tony Stark x Bucky Barnes

Law and Order: SVU Rafael Barba Temperance by @writefasttalkevenfaster Waving Through A Window by @mrsrafaelbarba Narcissus by @adacarisi

Star Trek Jim Kirk Dammit, I Love You by @iguess-theyre-mymess Cheesy Moments by @all-time-foes Accidentally Pranking Jim by @stardatewriting All About Lovin’ You by @imoutofmyvulcanmind Pardon My French by @musikat18 As Long As We Both Shall Live by @captainjimsexypantskirk

Leonard McCoy Blink by @stardatewriting What the Water Gave Me by @outside-the-government NSFW Bones Constantly Hovering Over You by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord The Rescuing of Leonard McCoy by @janeykath318 All Along by @medicatemedrmccoy

McKirk Back to the Crow’s Nest Part 3 by @auduna-druitt

Jim Kirk x Reader X Leonard McCoy

Lord of the Rings  Eomer  A Stubborn Woman by @coyoteimagines Eomer Banished by @helmaninquiel And What of Me  Fill Up Flirtation Choose to Dream Winter’s Chill by Raiyana

RPF Chris Evans

Misc Fandoms Light of Valhalla, Fire of Hel: Chapter Three by @musikat18 Skurge Kitchen Cuddles by @stanathanxoox Tony DiNozzo Itchy & Scratchy by @spaceemonkeyyxd Tony DiNozzo

tags: (strikethroughs I cant tag) @rauliskafan @pinkamour1588 @auduna-druitt @captainsbabysitter-blog @fangirlinglikeamentalpatient @randomlittleimp @thelawschooldiva @outside-the-government @isaxhorror @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @grumpykate @trashcan-to-end-all-trashcans  @impalaanddemons @dirajunara @the-space-goddess-16 @catbutsfurrever @a-girl-who-loves-disney @paigeinastory  @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @viioletdelights @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @goodnightwife @4theluvofall @eyeofdionysus @bookcaseninja @supermoonpanda

[nikitavenable]

Back

sorry english is not my native language

Hela x reader

1594 words

• Y / N POV •

Hela and I have known each other since we were little. She was the daughter of a king and I was just an ordinary daughter of a maid. Hela didn't even have fun with me, but she always found a way to sneak up on me. One of the many beautiful moments we had together when she found an abandoned wolf. We spent the night cuddling with Fenris.

Over time, we did not meet so often. It was all because of Father Hela. She once told me that the guards were watching her and going with her wherever she went. She also constantly trained and improved her skills. I was glad that she was becoming a powerful woman who would one day take the throne. But I was sorry it meant forgetting me. Then the news came to me that the king had sent my Hel to the Hel prison. It was overwhelming. The thought of never seeing her again killed her. The worst part was that I didn't have time to confess my city to her.

~ A few years later ~

Is back. Hela, the goddess of death, has returned from her captivity. It never occurred to me that this would happen, but it did. After Odin's death, she managed to get out, and now she's here. On Asgard. She held meetings with all the maids we were already among. I was looking forward to seeing her, I just don't know if she still remembers me.

We all stood in the throne room and waited for him to arrive. The huge door opened and stood there. It was actually the same as before, only it looked stronger and more powerful. She had great respect, she was like a walking authority. She reached the throne and sat proudly on it. "Kneel before your new queen," said the man, who was standing not far from her. We all hesitated for a moment, but eventually we obeyed and knelt before her. I would do anything but this was really annoying. No one dared stand up We knelt there with glass heads.

• Hela POV •

Seeing him bow before me was so satisfying. I looked at them and my eyes stopped on one person. We weren't sure who she was, but something inside me told me I knew her. I showed Skurg to go through the exchange. "Your Majesty." - "Bring her to me." He nodded and walked through the crowd. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled him to her feet, she never once looked up from the floor. He held her in front of my throne so she wouldn't run away. "Look at your queen." She looked up slowly and I would recognize those eyes anywhere. Y / N. She looked at me with her frightened eyes. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't undermine my authority. "Take her to my room. " He pulled her away roughly.

• Y / N POV •

I didn't know why he wanted me in his room but I was. I couldn't tell from her eyes what I was thinking. Clearly, a lot has changed. The man left me in front of her room so I wouldn't try to run away at all.

I waited there as footsteps came from the hallway. It was she who knew it, taking slow, calculating steps. She came out of the corner and headed for me. Without a word, she stepped inside, letting me know to follow her. It was beautiful, big, spacious, something you'd expect from someone like her. "Y / N." It was all she said. The rudeness in her voice disappeared and was replaced by the softness I knew. "Your Majesty." I didn't know if she would like me to call her by name. "Hela, it's still Hela for you." She came to me and I wasn't entirely sure what to do. "I missed you." She stroked my cheek with her icy hand. "I missed you too. I thought I'd never see you again. "-" I'm sorry. I wanted to at least say goodbye to you, but we didn't make it. I was afraid you wouldn't be here again when I came back and I wouldn't tell you all that stuff. " I wasn't sure what I mean. "W-what do you mean?" I said in a slightly shaky voice. I was cold, her icy hand on my cheeks, the coolness of the room, and my ordinary light clothing didn't help. "You're shaking." She obviously told me. Come sit in bed. I want to have you with me and finally tell you everything. "

She took me to bed, where she laid me in the middle. She sat down and covered me with a blanket. "So?" - "When I stopped coming to see you, it was because my father found out about our secret meetings. But mainly about ... my feelings for you." I was dumb. About her feelings? "Do you think so?" The last part said with sadness in her voice. She turned to the bedside table and pulled something out from inside. She looked at me and held a small black and green box. "I made it for you so I could give it to you as a sign of my love for you." - "Love for me?" - "Yes, if you don't feel it anyway, you can go. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. "We shook our heads quickly." I don't feel like you. " She smiled with a smile that I missed incredibly. She opened the box and there was a black ring with a green gem inside. "Can I put it on for you?" - "Please." She put a ring on me and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. I longed for this moment to happen that I couldn't even believe it was real. "That I will never lose you again?" - "Never again."

~ night ~

• Hela POV •

Y / N slept peacefully after we said a lot of things. I had to watch her all the time because she was so cute, she had some hair in her face and she was curled up in the blankets I got for her because she was cold. I decided to go for some fresh air. I opened the balcony door and enjoyed the view that came to me.

I don't know how much time has passed but obviously a long time. I didn't even hear the small steps approaching me. I only noticed her presence when two small arms wrapped around my waist. "Aren't you sleeping?" I asked. "I miss you there." - "It's cold here." I begged him as he nodded on my shoulder. I turned around and she didn't go. "Why do you keep calling me little one?" I pulled her inside and closed the door. "Because you're a little girl." - "I'm not that small." She protested. I came to her to find out what piece is smaller than it rises above her. "Are you sure?" I asked mockingly. "But you're too tall, I'm at a normal height." - "If you think so." "Please put me down." - "Don't say that at all. You're not heavy. "I knew what she meant. She remained silent and let me take her to bed.

• Y / N POV •

In the morning I showed up after waking up with Hella to my side. I expected him to be gone somewhere. I realized that I should probably get to work in it, but go prevent me from two strong arms. "Where do you think you're going?" She said in a hoarse voice. "I have to work." - "You have no reason to go." I don't want to hear any objections. "-" So what are we going to do today? "I changed the subject instead. I was excited I didn't see her for a long time and I missed her too.

When Hela and I ate, we went to see Fenris. It was clear to me that it would be bigger, but I definitely did not expect this. It was thus 3 times larger than the normal size. I've been a little scared for years. "Don't worry, she remembers you." I walked closer to her, and she leaned in front of me. I stroked her big snout and enjoyed her soft fur. "I told you so." Hela stood in the lock and rested her head on mine. I saw Hel tender, but not so much as to complain. I liked it. "When we don't eat, we can walk. She too."

The trip was pleasant. I've only really been here a few times so I enjoyed the view of the surroundings. Hela walked close to me and Fenris a little behind us, according to her whimpering, Hela and I could tell that she didn't like our slow walks.

~ skip a few hours ~

It was already practically dark when Hela and I decided to return to the palace. Along the way, Fenris began terribly evening, showing off her sharp fangs. Hela went alert immediately, and I walked closer to her to feel safer. She put her left hand on my waist and kept me as close to me as possible. Fenris was still growling terribly, Hela drew her sword for a change.

Whatever it was, they both finally calmed down. "You're icy," Hela told me as she stroked my face. She took off her cloak and put it around my shoulders. "It suits you." She said as she followed the wolf lying on the ground so we could climb on it. Hela sat on her back and then helped me upstairs as well. You sat me in front of you. This allowed me to wrap my arms around my waist and hold me tight. ,,Thank you."

[smolvenger]

Bestie!!! I am so touched!!!

Hehehehe, you’re welcome for the start!😉

Yes, poor goth meow meow Thomas😭

She is!

Yes, Sakarr was the best option for this scene!😁

Reader walking into Sakarr like: *Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande plays in the back*

Shark week does that to me too, bestie- oh to be seated on that lap🫠

Hehehe, You are not Immune to Loki😏

Oops, shouldn’t have said that about Reader, Skurge😈😈😈

We love a protective meow meow😍😮‍💨

Bonus TikTok: it’s literally Loki as his character equivalent in his fic- Rhys. So replace Loki with Rhys and Cassian with Robert and Summer Court with Vanaheim

A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter Ten

Loki x fem! Reader Series, A Court of Thorns and Roses/Mist and Fury AU Crossover with the various Tom Hiddleston characters.

Chapter Summary: You find the Spellbook halves and flee Vanaheim. But a twist makes it unreadable and the answer lies in Sakarr...

Series Summary: England. 1885. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you ...if you spend a week of every month with him. When the time comes to fulfill your end of the bargain, you are introduced to a world full of more magic and danger than you could possibly imagine...

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: PTSD and jealousy, Stella is anxious, Reader gets the hornies but no actual smut (not yet, we're almost there though, hehehe) , violence, and blood. Loki hurting a bitch because someone insulted his bb. Mutual pining. Light cursing. Grammar and editing mistakes.

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69

Thomas was sent out to tell the others to wait until tomorrow. To take a day rather than crash, rob, and run. You were introduced to the room supposed to be your bedroom. It was a lovely guest room with light blue walls and a darker blue comforter on the bed. Stella would have adored it. Your plans were only to take time to yourself to think and settle your feet until dinner.

You weren’t expecting Loki on your bed, lounging casually. His feet were over the edge and his elbow was against the mattress.

“Well then…I see you’ve been quite a success!” he said.

Part of your instinct was to ask him what he was doing in your room. Then again…you first truly met him in his intended form in your room. It then struck you- here you could both discuss plans without fear of any overlookers.

You folded your arms.

“And your own goal of flirting with the lady-,”

“She has a name, it’s Sylvie,” he corrected.

Fire churned inside you, a petty frustration.

“She must be awaiting you in your bed right now,” you replied.

It was a little bit of emotion, the emotional fire that got out of you, slipped past your own restraint. You waited for the smirk to appear on his face. It did not. He shook his head.

“In truth- no. Sylvie only glares at me when I flirt with her. Calls me a clown. I even showed her the fireworks. She looked like she would rather watch the paint dry. I only did a little- I praised her skill with daggers and she smirked.”

He went from lounging to standing in one fluid movement.

“She will be far harder to disarm, to distract.”

“Hmmm…so what should we do?” you asked.

There was a little itch on your chin. You lifted your hand to scratch it, glancing at the star marks on your hand. So little now- like scars. You were so used to them that you barely thought of them. Loki then gave a smile as he eyed them too.

“We did not train you for hours in vain. You have the very useful gift of your sensing. You must go about and try to sense where the book is…but my advice…”

He leaned closer to you, his voice getting quieter.

“Don’t sneak about the grounds. They will ask questions. Be discreet about it,” he advised.

You met him in his eyes and gave him a nod.

“What of your own powers? Loki…you can create duplicates, correct?” you asked.

“Why, Yes. You’ve seen it yourself many times,” he confirmed.

You felt yourself grin, throwing ideas into the plan.

“Can you make a duplicate of yourself to distract them? Or of me? Or of Thomas even!” you encouraged.

He tilted his head, pondering it. The slower growth of his smile showed that he approved.

“My dear, I can do that. I can also create illusions.”

He lifted a hand up, gesticulating as he went on.

If not a duplicate, then an illusion that you are there. Batting your eyelashes and saying ‘Yes Mr. President’ and swooning before him.”

You returned your arms to folding, feeling your eyebrows lift. But you continued.

“So step one, I will use my senses to find out where it is hidden. Step two, create the duplicates of us and Thomas. Especially to keep The President and Sylvie distracted…we will search for it. Make sure Thomas knows- I don’t want him left out!” you said.

Loki agreed, as he reached for the door you turned around.

“Who was the Weaver? Whose form?” you asked.

He returned your look, away from his exit.

“What makes you ask?” he questioned.

“He was shaking when he saw her. And I did not recognize her. Like he was in a trance. Had he not somehow got himself to take the sword and stab the Weaver, Loki, I would have been dead,” you pressed.

Loki walked closer to you, his voice still quiet.

Loki’s eyes hardened only a little. A sad shadow fell over his face.

“He told me you might ask questions. As I said, his past was…difficult, shall we say. But be patient with him, Y/N. He will tell you and the others everything, in time, when he’s ready…” he said before he left your room.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was to be another lovely dinner in the Knott palace in Vanaheim. Even amongst the wide tables and variants eating chicken legs with their hands as grease smeared all over their faces, you took note to cut your food into small bits and placed your napkin on your lap. The picture of polite gratitude that possessed no plans of robbery.

Even as you sat, placed next to Thomas and Loki, across from The President, your senses were reaching out, searching.

Spellbook half…Spellbook half…where are you?

Blast it, it could tell you the histories of the trees back home from miles away. Why was Vanaheim harder? Because of the magic infused everywhere perhaps?

You sipped your merlot. Thomas lifted up his glass.

“Why- all of you have been such lovely, welcoming friends. I say we must offer a toast to the Lokis. All of them,” he said.

“To the Lokis!” they repeated, eagerly taking a drink. Even the little boy gulped down the tan juice in his glass goblet.

Eyes turned over to Thomas. Smiling up at him, they leaned closer. Curious of the baronet more than they were of you or Loki. He smiled and patiently answered their questions.

“Yes- I have been trained to dance since I was a young boy! Sent to boarding school- surrounded by other trouble-causing little boys! But I passed and survived!” Thomas recalled around the group.

President Loki leaned back in his chair, one arm dangling over the upper rim. His golden horns seemed a little more polished for the evening. He did give you looks and you only looked down at your napkin with a coy grin.

“What else did you study?” Classic Loki asked the Baronet.

A servant went up and refilled everyone’s drinks from a large pitcher. You mouthed her a thank you.

“Mathematics, the sciences, the great writers of the past, and art as well…” Thomas explained.

Loki lifted up his glass to have a drink. You indeed had a look around- old paintings and busts on high niches surrounded the dining hall. You turned your head to admire them.

“My, this place does have beautiful art in it!” you commented.

President Loki lifted a glass to you.

“And you, Miss, are just one of the many masterpieces there,” President Loki oozed. You met his own look as he gave you a small toast and had a sip, eyes never leaving yours.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. President,” you replied sweetly, another coy glance down at your napkin, to glance back up at him.

Loki’s grip was so tight on his wine glass that he could have broken it in his fist. An iciness in his eyes. Yet he smiled- albeit tightly.

It seemed as if the dinner ended soon. The sky was still in the evening with an orange sky outside. Thomas turned towards it. He gave you a look and then to the variants.

“May I ask, all of you lovely gentlemen and lady- do you know of these pieces? I think we would all like a little tour!” he suggested.

Loki broke out of his trance to lower his jaw at him. You inhaled sharp, cold air through your nose in a slight gasp.

“Please include me! I must know all about the collection here!” you added on.

“Yes- indeed,” Loki agreed.

The President smiled “Oh, please! Allow me…I think I am more than capable of serving as a tour guide,” he offered.

As the servants arrived to clean up the plates, he went over to you and offered his arm. You draped your arm around the President. Thomas wiped his mouth with the napkin. He stood up next to you. Loki was merely behind. The President led all of you out of the dining room into the hallways filled with more paintings. Here there were tributes of all sorts of different mythologies on oil and canvas. He pointed out one of a woman and man embracing in a forest.

“This one is of Venus and Adonis…which I assure you, it has much resemblance to me,” President Loki boasted.

It did not. You smiled at him anyway. Your senses stretched out through the room like the lights from the chandeliers above-searching, searching. He discussed bits of each one.

Then he led you down back to the ballroom, showing the portraits. You then realized it was made of the various Loki residents who lived here.

“Mine is in progress as of now. I must make sure it is large and grand, so the people know who their votes go for. Here- this one is of Boastful Loki. He wanted it done by the best painter in Vanaheim-well, second to mine of course,” President Loki explained.

As you admired the details of the fur of the painting of Boastful Loki, you kept a polite smile and reached out your senses further.

There was something tingling- yes…there was something close...like a little bell in the back of your head.

There was something ringing in the garden. The garden outside the ballroom. It was actually far larger and went to the back outside the palace. Flowers, trees, and greenery as befitting a palace garden.

But something was out there- a labyrinth. A maze of green leaves and hedges.

There was a place beneath the bushes. A dead end. So it seemed normal. So none would suspect.

Trembling leaves. A secret door. The key beneath the flurry of green roses.

And behind the door-yes in that door…on a pillar…there was a library. And on one pillar…a book. Half of one.

There. There was the answer.

As your senses retreated back to you, you smiled up at The President lovingly. The joy of locating the spellbook added genuine exuberance as you spoke to him.

“I cannot decide which piece is my favorite! Though you are a wonderful guide!” you threw in. Thomas bit back the urge to smile further in amusement, though his eyes darted between you two.

“When I decide to campaign all nine realms and when I win….I am considering having a First Lady...” The President added.

Thomas raised his eyebrows and smiled like he was holding back a chuckle. Loki seemed so tense he would break into pieces and his face looked like in a second he was going to whip out a dagger and kill his variant.

You let out another laugh as you again glanced to the ground demurely, then looked back at him under your eyelashes.

“Oh- My. Mr. President, I am far too humbled…” you added.

President Loki only smiled at you.

“Only consideration…just in case…” he crooned.

You sent out a thought to Loki. His shields were far too down all while keeping your eye on the smug smile of the President.

“It’s in the labyrinth of the garden.”

When his thought returned to you, it seemed its same cool, even tone. Despite his tense state.

“You seem like you’re enjoying this,” he responded.

“Only because it’s working for me. Tomorrow- we go to the labyrinth. It’s hidden in a dead end. Alert Thomas. Remember- this is a mission, Loki.”

“Would you seriously consider being his First Lady?”

You swallowed a little, then flashed The President another smile as your thoughts went back to Loki.

“I’m just flirting with him like you asked me to do!”

“I know, but would you?” the God of Mischief repeated.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I only just met him.”

Part of you wanted to laugh- he was becoming a sullen child. Perhaps jealous you were able to crack the President successfully. And that he wasn’t able to with Sylvie.

The next day- it was decided. After breakfast, you all would go straight to searching. All of you talked privately and agreed on a plan.

Loki would create a duplicate of himself to make others think he was just enjoying another endless day of rowdy partying and relaxing with the other guests. As well as an illusion of you and the Baronet sitting in chairs, watching and smiling among them. Only conversing in polite small talk when prompted.

Then all of you crawled out to the gardens. You both snuck out, the bright wind whipping about and the sun bright. The smell of fresh earth beneath you.

Blast it, you already noticed around the hedges- there was The President first. Loki then conjured an image of you, an illusion. Dressed in a pretty day dress of bright pink like what you were wearing, right down to the hair on the top of your head. You were sent out, batting a fan and giggling.

The President wiggled his eyebrows and reached to touch your hand. The illusion took a step back.

“If you want to, then catch me!” it’s voice- no, Your voice- dared him.

She picked up her skirts and fled into the labyrinth. The President clicked his tongue. He placed his hands in his pockets, at first in a slow walk, and then began to search through to find you- your own excited echoes of flirtatious laughter echoing through.

“Why- where are you hiding little mouse? Come here!” he was teasing back as he wandered further.

Sylvie walked about the maze. Her gaze was forward and determined. All of you hid in the corner, peeking out as Loki sent out a duplicate towards her.

“Why- you seem especially terrifying today! Which enemies are you planning to defeat?” he said with a smile that failed to be seductive.

She glared murder into it.

“Please- I know a duplicate when I see one. Stop this nonsense!” Sylvie cried.

All of you froze in time, a small surge of panic from you. She folded her arms again and walked up to where you were.

“What the hel are all of you doing loitering around like fools when-”

Suddenly there was a little whirring noise. Sylvie cursed and reached into her pocket. A strange device- seemed to be metal and a rectangle began to creak.

“It’s broken! Damnit! Loki, even your talking makes it-”

Sir Sharpe stepped forward.

“Apologies Miss, but- might I have a look at it? I could try to fix it.”

“Oh, this! Used to be a tempad back in the day- I don’t trust you know what it is. But- it’s now just used to communicate with the others.”

“I will be glad to help, I have experience with such things, allow me…”

Thomas took the device. Then briefly glanced at you two, and gave a smile.

You put a hand over your mouth to hide the grin and urge to laugh.

'Our Brilliant Baronet broke her device. Now he has to fix it and distract her! Now, I’ll create an illusion, YN darling- we must hurry!'

As soon as their heads were lowered to focus on the communicator, Thomas providing the perfect distraction, Loki’s magic wielded another sneaky duplicate and a replicate illusion of you folding your arms and smiling. The two of you hurried off before she could see.

Your senses reached out as you both scurried along, trying to catch your breaths. You took Loki’s hand and pulled him in that direction. Sure enough, there was a dead end. Complete with a few green roses blooming near the wall of leaves.

Loki bent down and located the Green Rose. He reached into those delicate petals with his white, long fingers. They greatly overpowered the little flower. But they were gentle. Touching the delicate flower with reverence. You felt yourself staring. A second too long.

His hands…they were…so beautiful…

From between the petals, he plucked the tiniest golden key. As you moved aside the leaves, there was a tall door with the tiniest keyhole. He plopped it into the door and unlocked it with a click.

“Ladies always first,” he offered, opening the door as you stepped inside.

The inside looked almost like a burrow. How you imagined the Rabbit hole of Alice in Wonderland when you read it as a child. Roots of plants and an earthy smell. The dirt beneath your feet, stains your skirts and shoes. Yet you walked forward.

It did look like a hidden library. High brown bookshelves and more books piled around. There was even an old green sitting chair with more books piled on them. You noticed there was some light coming from above. Turning up your chins, you saw a hole from above the leaves leaving a direct stream of sunlight down, down, on…

Sitting on a pillar. A torn half of a book.

Relieved and excited, you both jolted forward. You took the book, holding it to your heart. A deep sigh of relief washed over you as you looked at the god. His shoulders relaxed and there was a smile on his face. He wiped off his sides, placing his hands on his hips as he spoke.

“Well, that was-”

Loki’s voice was cut off. There was a rumble, to where you had to catch yourself from losing your balance. The library shook like there was an earthquake. Books fell over from the shelves.

“What-what’s going on?” you asked in a panic.

There were sudden, long, clanging bells from outside.

“It’s a Trap! We must hurry- now!” Loki cried.

As you ran forward, there were vines and branches that reached out and began to crawl from above the earth. They snaked over everything. Long, greedy fingers reaching toward you. Over the books in that library- and you could have sworn many of them had thorns.

You both broke into a run to the door, but several long vines snaked over the entryway, blocking it. A few thick branches reached to Loki, trapping him and then to your legs.

You gritted your teeth.

“Oh, no you don’t!” you said.

You shoved the book for Loki to hold while his arms were still free.

You opened a hand and released fire. They felt hot against your face and you could smell the burnt wood and greenery. It burnt the branches and vines, while not touching the god, freeing Loki’s feet. He wriggled his ankles out of the vines and then headed towards the door.

You let out two hands of fire- one to stop the growing vines. The other hand blasted through the door. As you hurried outside, you noticed the vines shriveled in the sunlight, turning brown and dying.

As you went outside, Loki still clutching the book. There were already bells in the distance.

“It’s an alarm- they’re raising an alarm! Quick!” he cried.

You blasted your fire through the maze- cheating a way out as you ran through. You saw a dark waistcoat and a figure jumped. It was Thomas Sharpe pacing about alone.

Loki grabbed him by the collar like a kitten.

“We have the book! Let’s flee! Now!” he insisted.

Thomas said no reply but hurried along with you. You both raced through the loud bells of the palace as you escaped out the front door.

You hurried over to the streets. Sure enough, Hal and Jonathan had ran- meeting you both in the street corner. Hal interestingly kept a sheath with a long sword dangling by his side.

“Do you have the book half?” you asked.

“Twas up to Robert to go and fetch it!” Hal breathlessly explained.

“It had a riddle and the answer was a part of the brain only he knew, And-” Jonathan began explaining.

But he was cut off as three armed guards pointed to you- with swords out.

“Thieves! THIEVES!” one boomed.

You let out a small gasp, your hand hurriedly rushing to get your dagger hidden in your skirt. Dear heavens- here it came- when-

“All of you, behind!” Hal cried.

He charged forward, wielding the sword.

Before any of you could say a word, Hal ran to the guards. He quickly thrust and parried through them. He knocked them down- then found weak spots in their helmets and sliced a sword through the first one’s skull.

You gasped, seeing the blood gush. He fell down as a corpse. He then grabbed the next one- slitting his neck and then the other one, with one clean sweep, he beheaded the third and last guard.

All of you stood speechless. Their blood was gathering on the cobblestones in a large puddle.

Hal resheathed his sword. He was catching his breath, his curls freed.

“Now, dear friends, let us get to Kved, now that this business is dealt with,” Hal spoke calmly to the amazed group.

All of you began to hurry towards the palace, when a figure in a grey suit came out, hurrying towards you all. Before you hurried none other than Robert. He was partially soaking wet, there being a squishy sound he made with each step of his shoes. Water dripped from his hair. His clothes clung to him. But he was alive and he had in his arms a book half.

“I did it! I got it! That didn’t go too bad!” he declared with a tired smile.

There was a “BOOM!” sound. The Kved Tower burst into flames and then began to crash down. Breaking into shambles. There were screams as people ran to it with buckets of water.

“You destroyed it??” Loki cried.

“Not intentionally!!” Robert refused.

Jonathan turned around with a slight roll of his eyes.

“There’s time for fighting among us later- let’s hurry back!” he insisted.

Loki made a portal and everyone jumped through. Sure enough, all of you landed promptly back in Asgard in the same meeting room. Catching each other's breaths and yet also laughing.

“Robert, why are you soaked to the bone?” you asked him.

Robert tilted his head to let water drain from his ear. He then placed the book half on the table and turned around. He took out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter from his pocket and frowned seeing that they were all soaked through.

“There were two riddles you had to guess. Hal got the first answer- and they gave him that sword. Then the second one- the real inner room it was in. Only one could go through it- the one who answered it. I figured out it was the brain-it’s my expertise, after all. After I grabbed it, there was a trap that made the room fill with water. But I made it out!” the doctor recalled.

Loki used his magic. A golden shimmer ran down Robert and he was dried in an instant.

“Now, everyone…let us see what it says about the spell,” Thomas suggested.

Loki placed the other half of the book on the table. Magic in a golden light reached between them- forming thin lines like stitches as the spine of the book was put back together. Everyone huddled together to watch. Jonathan reached to turn over the pages, all of you ready to see what it said. There were plenty of words on each page in big, black letters. But the writing of the book was not in a language you spoke. One you didn’t recognize. You turned to Loki, who put a hand to his forehead and groaned.

“Norns…” he muttered.

“What…what is it?” you asked.

Jonathan leaned forward. He studied it carefully.

“This…this seems to be more….nordic. But it’s old. I cannot make out what the words mean. And only one among us is accustomed to that,” the spy answered.

They all turned to Loki.

“I do not know a word of it…” he confessed.

All of you slumped. You felt your own hands bunch into fists. All of that work for nothing? A key was given…only it was still a few steps behind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You did your best not to be discouraged. Though it was hard. But there were other pressing matters- Stella.

You went over to check on your friend in her room the next day. Since your little trip left her cared for, but alone except for a few servants, you promised to spend the day with her. She sat there on the chair before the windows, both of you sewing. Frigga heard of the new guest and was generous enough to supply thread and needles. Your own work was getting done, but so many times she set down her need. She sat there, looking out the window still.

“Is there…anything else you want to say about the camp?” you asked.

“No…I just wish….I could stop thinking about it, dwelling on it…it’s yet my mind keeps returning to it, reliving it” Stella mused.

You set down your own embroidery of a bird in flight.

“It’s just now…I get worried…frightened….that…he might find me. And any moment- he could be here…” she confessed sadly.

“I promise you, Stella. He doesn’t know you’re here. And he won’t know- and this place has guards everywhere,” you assured her.

There was a knock. In came none other than Sif as well as Loki and the other variants- Thomas, Hal, Jonathan, and Robert.

“Hey, how is she? We all want to know,” Sif asked as she folded her arms.

Stella looked up at the group, then at Sif.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Lady Sif…and I heard about a new guest here. And there’s a rumor you got…got captured, yes?”

“It’s true,” she nodded.

“Well- The queen sent me. I’m going to be your guard and accompany you now, especially when our other mortal girl is busy.” Sif shrugged.

“Us ladies have to stick together when we can!” you said with a smile. You saw Stella returned it, she reached for your hand. You clutched it tight, then as she looked at the others, her smile dropped.

“I am so sorry…for burdening you all. For interfering with everything I…I don’t want to be a bother…” she apologized.

“Oh, you couldn’t be!” Thomas interjected.

Stella looked up, trying to hold in her tears.

“I only…I don’t want to be scared!” she said.

You saw it in her- pressing it back. But you gave her the handkerchief with blue flowers and told her to let it out, to cry. Then she wiped her eyes.

“I’m so sorry…I shouldn’t be complaining…shouldn’t let all of you see me like this. I know this is much for all of you-I’m a good woman, I swear I am,” she said, shaking her yellow head.

“Oh, it doesn’t make you any less good just because you're unhappy,” Robert assured her.

Lady Sif looked around the plain, grey room with the plain, almost grey-ish furniture.

“Hmmph- if you stay all day cooped up like you have this week, you’ll make your room your prison,” the lady warrior said.

Loki folded her arms. “You should have seen your dear friend when she arrived here after her own heartbreak, Stella. Now look at her- smiling and thriving. You shall too, dear lady. Just give it some time.”

Stella looked again out the window.

“I’m…I’m not sure…I want fresh air but…but I’m just scared that…that…”

“The castle is heavily guarded,” Loki repeated.

“I know yet…yet…”

Jonathan leaned a little forward.

“Miss Harris,” Jonathan stepped forward. “There is a lovely, large garden here. Hundreds of flowers in bloom, roses tended to by the queen. Birds singing in the trees above you- Sif and I could accompany you there. I promise we won’t let you out of our sight for a second.” he offered.

She looked up at him. Her blue eyes became a little brighter.

“That sounds…very nice…as long as Sif or YN is there too,” she replied.

You gave her a smile. You remembered when you were still so used to your own time—getting used to being alone with men. No watching eyes. At least here, there would be some safety.

“The Gardens have lovely roses. And there’s a certain tree…the queen told me something about it, Stella. I’ll show you. I'll come up to join and tell you what she said right after I’m done training,” you told Stella.

Sif got up and opened the door, leading the way. The Night Manager offered his arm and she wrapped around it, walking over to the gardens.

As you passed by to go to the training room, there was a window overlooking the gardens. You saw them sitting on a bench outside. Indeed, the fresh air and the sight of flowers gave a warmth to Stella’s face. There was a peaceful smile on it. She walked about as Sif strolled around, hands in her pockets. Then she returned to sit on the bench there next to Jonathan. Sif kept chatting at them-you couldn’t hear what. Jonathan kept quiet- listening more than speaking. Sometimes gazing at Stella. Wisely, he only spoke when it felt needed.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A week passed. Stella seemed to improve slightly. She was sleeping better at night. She wore her blue beads every day and clutched them with white knuckles less often. She did more than just stare sadly out of windows. She visited the gardens daily, sometimes staying outside for hours. If you couldn’t be there, Sif stayed by her like a guard dog who would snarl at any enemy but wag its tail at their keeper. Thor met her and shook her hand so violently you feared it would come off. She became nervous when Queen Frigga came by to see her, but the Queen greeted the new guest with warmth, offering to tell her more in-depth about the gardens, like more like a mother figure than a powerful goddess.

Yet the disappointment of the spellbook still stung all of you. As hard as anyone tried, no one could make out a word. Not even Loki. The library was scoured to its darkest corner, but there were no translation guides kept in Asgard.

Then Loki called forth a meeting, but this time, there was a smile on his face.

“I have good news. I did some searching and asking…and there is a translation guide. All is not lost.” he announced.

There was an air of excitement among everyone. Thomas jolted upright. Hal leaned in a little closer. Robert had a giant smile on his face. Jonathan blinked, as if making sure this was really happening.

“Really? How?” Robert asked.

Loki held out his hand. A small image of a planet circling around in the air was conjured over it.

“There is a translation guide to the most ancient of Nordic…in Sakarr. In the Grandmasters palace.”

“What’s Sakarr?” you asked.

“A garbage planet. Full of the lowest, seediest scum. But full of games, tournaments, sports to keep its aliens and people happy,” Loki explained.

The little planet circled around in his hands. Then it vanished in a shimmer of light. But Loki pressed that hand to his chest, continuing his announcement.

“However…they will all have eyes on me. It will require someone sneaking around to find the book. But…there is a certain image of me…I have a history there. There’s a certain part of me they expect in Sakarr. It is savage, chaotic, lawless- and we must accept it and go with it. That side of me- it will show up-”

“Then- no matter! You play up the image and we will search! All of us!” you insisted.

“There’s a plan I have…but…”

His blue eyes went from the general group to focusing on you.

“And they already know about our lady. And…there’s a certain….image of you as well, my dear, that they have of you. And one you’ll have to play up. Or else there will be suspicion.”

“Alright, what role?” you questioned, shrugging your shoulders.

“I have to warn you…Sakkar is full of impropriety. You would hate the place. And you would hate what they heard about you- this…role. If you wish not to do it, dear Lady, I understand. It will make you…uncomfortable.” he apologized.

“Just tell me what I must do,” you pressed.

Loki explained it to you in a few words.

A hand flew over Thomas’s mouth. Hal had a small smirk. Robert turned away to regain control of the urge to laugh. Jonathan only looked intently, his face still.

You blinked. Then despite your nervousness, you took in a deep breath.

“I can do it. It doesn’t sound too bad. It’s all just pretend.” you responded.

Loki tilted his head, his jaw a little loose.

“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked.

“It might be new…but I will do it. For the sake of our mission, I will do it.” You announced.

Loki nodded, and then he turned to the others.

Loki nodded, he then grinned. He burst into a little half laugh that came out in a puff of air. It was him as much as his green and black robes.

“Well then- let us waste no time. And Jonathan- our dear Spymaster. You are the one most used to sneaking about, finding things. It will be up to you to find the book in the palace. YN will sense it and tell you. Can you do that?” the god asked.

Jonathan nodded, giving a little smile back.

“Of course, I can.”

Loki folded his hands, laying out the plan with the whole circle.

“I am in good favor with the Grandmaster. That will be to our advantage. He will let us all in and we will distract them- him especially. YN will sense where it is. She’ll tell Jonathan. Jonathan will find and get it as quickly as he can. Then we return. Simple as that.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Right before you left, a chest was brought. There was a screen for you to change behind. You slipped off your layers of clothes. Your stockings and boots were traded for simple sandals. The dress was easy to slip on.

Sakarr was surrounded by literal garbage like the sea around Asgard. It reeked of old rust and mold, making your nose curl. The city of Sakarr had red, green, yellow, and blue buildings. Far brighter, more colorful than you had ever seen, ever imagined a building to look.

The palace was unmissable. It was so tall, taller than any other building, that you nearly hurt your neck to look up, up, up. There were large statues of grey heads decorated in the middle. Ships flew through the air easily, making you gape in wonder at them. Going through the smog and crowds of people in cloaks, you felt a little awkward in your own garb. The other men were being as polite as they could to not gape at you. Then finally, giving a mutual nod, all of you stepped inside the palace. There were armed guards in black armor with either red or yellow accents. They noted you all as friends of Loki- and especially seeing you, they let you in.

The walls in the first rooms were grey and sleek- so futuristic, more than you could have ever imagined. Your powers reached out, sensing where things were. But sure enough, perhaps because it was touched more with technology than magic, your powers located the translation book.

You nudged Jonathan, then whispered in his ear.

“The study.”

He didn’t nod to make it obvious but gave you a look back and a small smile.

Then, you found the room Loki described- there were red and yellow lights. The thumping bass of music with whirring sounds. Music where you could not name the instruments. Blasting right into your bloodstream.

Once the doors slid open, you were let in right at the front. And you could feel their eyes on you. On your dress.

It was a rich, dark green. It practically shimmered with small sparkles beneath any light. No layers were worn beneath it. It was also very low cut, almost to your naval. The dips and curves of your cleavage full on display. It had to be. Your shoulders were exposed over the small sleeves. Then finally a long skirt a high slit, showing some of your legs. A dress that would give your parents- give anyone- from back home a heart attack. Lovely and deliciously scandalous.

You could already feel the eyes all on you. Some in desire. Sure enough, there were whispers and stares. All down your cleavage and leg. You knew what they were saying.

The Trickster God’s Whore. The one fabled around Sakarr. The woman who saved her own life when on the brink of death in exchange for warming the God of Mischeif’s bed.

Let them believe that. Let them be afraid of him. If not, a little afraid of you.

You made your place around them. All sorts of odd creatures and people mingling about this way and that. Waiting for the cue. Jonathan and Robert were merely polite. Hal fit right in as he got a drink in a glass and handed one to Thomas to sip on. Jonathan was quietly scanning everything- like your own group of guards.

Then there was attention as a man appeared. A man with tan skin, grey hair, and a grey goatee but with blue eyeliner, a blue mark on his chin, and yellow robes. Everyone turned their eyes down in respect. You felt his own eyes inspecting you, the exposed skin, and then he smiled.

The Gamemaster- you remembered everything from Loki’s explanation.

“Ah- so you’re our famous courtesan. Nice, Wonderful. Hmm- wouldn’t be surprised if all of you were.”

“It’s an honor to be here. And where is he? My own master?” you asked quietly, almost sultry. Folding your hands behind your back coyly and giving him a smile.

Then in walked Loki and heads turned. His leathers- pure black with armor on certain points. A long cape that was black on the outside, and yellow on the inside. Swaggering, chin up. Eyes full of deviousness. More like the Loki who first made the bargain with you when you first saw him in his true form. Without looking he reached over to where a servant carried a tray of drinks and got one without looking away. Heads turned again and even the music seemed to be dimmed a little.

“Ah, hello there- very good to see all of you…now…I have a lady waiting for me…” he announced.

He opened his arm- going forward. Then a hand. He smiled at you, one finger beckoning you to come hither.

“Come here, my dear,” he said.

You smiled at him, walking over to his side. The air felt cold on your exposed skin.

“Why…I must rest my feet- give me a seat!” he ordered.

“Who is letting my dear friend walk about? A seat!” The Grandmaster ordered.

One creature ran over, pushing aside several guests already sitting revealing a long, plush couch. They gestured over. Loki walked forward and sat there, taking you with him. You were about to sit next to him when he put a finger up to stop you.

“Ah- you are mistaken, my pet- this may be my seat, but this is your throne.”

With a small squeal escaping you, he picked you up with his large hands and placed you on his lap. Then masking it as delight, you smiled at him. Letting out a feminine chuckle as you wrapped your arms around him. Leaning in closer.

You felt his hand go down, fingers splaying over your leg. Looking up, you saw Jonathan had vanished. Now was time for a show. Time to stall. Distract- especially as the Grandmaster was here.

There was chatter and noise as the party continued. The others mingled- made small talk. The circle keeps any attention or questions about Jonathan’s disappearance to themselves. The Grandmaster began to discuss things you had no idea about with Loki. You merely smiled, feeling his touch all over you.

Loki’s hand went down to your inner thigh, squeezing it gently. You swallowed back a gasp from it, the touch, clutching onto him.

“Now then…where were we? Ah- yes, how is the business in Sakarr? And the Champions?” he asked going to the Grandmaster. “Who won last?”

“Korg. Again. At this rate- he will be my champion! Isn’t that just splendid!” he bragged.

“Hmm yes- oh he! The giant rock! Who would have expected it of him? Well- not at all. That is why we love it,” Loki commented.

His hand went further splayed- slowly touching you, running up and down your leg. Your bare skin on his bare skin. You felt something in your breath hitch.

Something in you…was stirring. Electricity. You looked down, feeling yourself get warm all over. Loki glanced at the Grandmaster.

“Sometimes my pretty little prize gets shy- how adorable of her. It only makes her more endearing to me. But this is a welcome place for her, and for us, hm?” he commented.

“Oh-of course…and by the way, as a thank you- there’s a room ready. If you need to…enjoy her for a bit,” The Grandmaster nudged with a wink.

Loki burst into light laughter.

“I will keep it in mind for later, I only wish to enjoy the party now,” Loki refused.

He tipped your chin and made you look at him. It made your mind go blank. Your breath quickened to a slight pause as he spoke- his beautiful profile right before you.

“Do not worry, pet. You do not have to…not yet. But you’ve been such a good girl for your god-”

He leaned over and kissed your neck—a small, sensitive area. A sound came out of you, like a moan. His hand got more and more up your inner thigh. A silent confession rang in your head. You liked him touching you. You liked his hand, his kisses. You liked being on his lap.

“Let me make sure you’ve enjoyed a drink here," he said.

Then he gestured for a servant to get you something to drink and a glass like an upside down triangle was placed on a small table before you.

Yet you didn’t want it. You just wanted, silently, for Loki’s hands to stay on you.

A feeling hit you. A feeling you never paid much attention to before. A feeling maybe you never had before. But his hands- his lips, his warmth. And the feeling was strong- stronger than it had ever been before.

Something was pooling between your legs. Something damp. It couldn’t be your courses- they ended recently. It couldn’t be urine. There was no smell of it. And it seemed to increase as Loki slid his hands over your bare skin. Making it feel cold, and tingly as he kept touching you, his long fingers possessively splaying over as he spoke.

It struck you. Your mother talked with you before your wedding and even longer before, the gossip you shared among friends. About the female body. What happened before the… act. Was this when…when…

“Your shield is down. And your mind is panicking,” his thought rang out in your head.

“What’s going on? What’s happening to me?” you asked silently, remembering to keep on the sultry smile.

“You don’t know…or you’re in denial…It’s only your body reacting to me, reacting to being touched, my dear. Nothing more to be scared about.”

“Loki, I…i just…”

“If you’re uncomfortable now…”

“No! We have to keep going! At least until they return!”

His eyes turned over to you, keeping its small smile.

“Say the word, and I will make it feel even better if you’d like….” he thought back.

Your heart beat harder. His smooth words in your head did nothing to stop the wet feeling between your legs. Only made it worse. You made no response to him. Could not. You forced your focus to the bright red and yellow lights over the grey walls and the music. Forcing yourself back in the present moment.

Perhaps anyone’s hand there on you would do the trick. You grinned away the discomfort, the strange feeling of arousal…and that you liked it.

Then one being- an Asgardian, clearly with a human appearance, with a bald head and muscles with a dark beard. Clearly stepped forward to approach all of you.

“Loki, when will the god of Thunder ever be caught? What a prisoner he would make for our games!” he asked, his voice a thick cockney accent.

“Skurge, that depends…why don’t you ask my dolt of a brother yourself? He’ll be glad to dance right in here,” Loki replied, shaking his head.

Skurge’s face got tight. His voice raised.

“Come on! Persuade him!” he demanded.

“I cannot. You cannot convince him of anything…” Loki continued to refuse.

“Then would you? It’s been so bloody boring lately!” he complained.

“Why would I waste my time fighting like that? It’s far less elegant for my taste, the style. Besides, I find spectator sport far more enjoyable...among…other activities,” he replied looking at you with a smile. He lifted your hand to kiss it and you felt yourself giggle a little, getting hot and tingly again.

Skurge huffed. He backed off and took three steps, and then he turned. And insulted loud enough that it echoed.

“I bet her cunt is the only spectator sport you like now, Lokes. Enjoy your filthy slut.”

Your mouth drops its sultry smile. You pressed a palm over your lips in shock, shame, to restrain a reply. Something cold dropped in your stomach.

Loki remained still. Very still. Looking right at the smug smile of Skurge.

Then a green light shone in the god’s eyes. In a split second, there were gasps as before his feet, stretching out, two shadows of Loki emerged. They reached out into the room and grabbed Skurge, pulling him to that grey wall.

The crowd gathered, and Loki only stared forward. His face was serene but focused. His eyes glowed green.

Skurge struggled, but in vain. Then, in a blink of an eye, they pulled both of his arms and twisted them in obtuse, angled directions. You heard the cracking of bones. Skurge released a pelting scream so loud that it could shake the palace. Then the shadows dropped him- his arms broken, fractured in many areas.

Your jaw dropped. The coolness earlier forgotten.

Loki glared at him right into his eyes, his arm re-wrapped around you again for protection.

“Call her that again…and it will be your neck,” he threatened quietly.

[musikat18]

Light of Valhalla, Fire of Hel: Chapter Eight (Skurge x Reader)

(...I’m running out of gifs I’m running out of gifs have Heimdall he’s awesome and present in this chapter and we love and appreciate Heimdall in this house)

Pairing: Skurge/Reader

Summary: You’re the best friend of Thor and Sif, a high-born Asgardian lady with a penchant for running off into battle, enchanted halberd blazing. The battle of Vanaheim brings your secret close to being discovered, but when the goddess of death arrives in Asgard, you must examine how far you are willing to go to preserve both of your lives when her new assistant happens to be the one man outside the Royal Family who knows the truth about how you spend your time.

Warnings: Touching reunions, speeches, mentions of the dead, mentions of execution, language, banter, HEY LOOK ACTUAL ROMANCE THIS TIME

A/N: We’re almost to the end, my friends! A little reward in this chapter for all of us who have waited so long. Enjoy~

Light of Valhalla, Fire of Hel

<Previous Next>

Chapter Eight: All For Love...

The silence in the dungeon was deafening.

No more secrets. No more dancing around things. No more misunderstandings. No more….

Oh yes, he’d certainly have left you behind, by now. Skurge wasn’t coming back for you; you were sure of that, now. If he hadn’t loved you before, he certainly wouldn’t after that shabby excuse for a confession.

No, there was nothing left to do now but fight your damn way out.

You reached out with your mind, hoping to get a signal to someone...anyone who could help. Even if it wasn’t Heimdall that you reached, anything would be better than nothing.

To your relief, something actually went your way for once.

“Daybreaker,” Heimdall nodded. Your jaw dropped at what you could see through their eyes.

Hundreds of them. Hundreds of thousands of Asgardians huddled in the mountain caverns where the old kings had been laid to rest. Mothers huddling their children. Lovers quaking in each others’ arms, as though they may not live to see one another past that moment.

This was the suffering of your people. This was the suffering you had been lying helpless to prevent.

A newfound fire, brighter than before, lit up in your heart as you realized this was the true strength of Asgard, and it was now under the protection of you, the true keeper of the Bifrost, and the strongest, most stubborn, and most kindly woman you’d ever met.

Sif, for the first time, looked as though she might cry when she looked at you.

“Our newer refugees told me of the execution ceremony,” she said somberly. “I...I thought you would have...I figured that bastard….”

“I’m still here, Sif,” you smiled. “He- he refused to swing the ax. He almost didn’t do it.”

“That’s more than I would have given him, based on certain behavioral patterns of his,” she seemed genuinely surprised.

Something soft fluttered inside you, “I suppose some people are better at letting things go than others.”

Heimdall gently stepped in on your reunion, “The people know you are alive, Y/N. They have asked to know what you think from where you stand as...as the closest thing they have to a leader until Prince Thor is able to make it back.”

“I’m sorry, what?!” you blinked, “Thor’s bloody alive?!?”

“Apparently,” Sif said dryly. “Who would have thought that the psychotic evil death goddess would lie to the entirety of the Asgardian public?”

“That’s...alright, that’s fair.”

Heimdall gently gestured towards the crowd, “They are waiting...will you speak as Daybreaker, instead?”

You thumbed over your pendant, wondering if it would point you to the right decision as it had so many times before. Nothing. Your brow furrowed at the inactivity of the usually (for lack of a better term) outspoken artifact. This one time when you may need a sign the most, the one thing you had been able to put your faith in so many times before was dead silent.

“No,” you said, certain of what you had to do, “I will address them as myself.”

Both of your friends parted the way for you, and all eyes turned to you as you stepped forward.

You had never made a public statement before. You had no idea what you were doing.

You decided to do what Daybreaker had made it so easy to do: speak from the heart with power, and bring forth a wave of confidence.

“People of Asgard,” you started slowly, taking a moment to find your voice, “when Prince Thor left to search for King Odin, he tasked my father and I with stabilizing the kingdom. Hela has made that goal...a little bit complicated. I had no way to stop it, even if I had known or had been able to try. I apologize for how blindsided we were, and if I could bring back all the remarkable men and women and citizens of our great kingdom that we have lost already, I would exchange my life for theirs in a heartbeat.

“My father is dead. Kustaa Daybreaker--” you stopped for a moment to regain yourself as your suppressed grief caught in your throat. You had not had a moment to think on what saying the words aloud would mean, “...Kustaa Daybreaker was among the finest men this city had to offer. And he died...he died...he….”

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of your father, tinged with a warm light, standing at the far end of the mountain cavern.

Time slowed to a standstill as he walked towards you.

“Hello, my daughter.”

When he stood before you, arms outstretched as though he had never been gone, all your inhibitions disappeared, and you collapsed into your father’s arms like a child, wracked with sobs.

“Father!” you cried out as he cradled your head, hot tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping on his stately robes, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I should have gone-- I should have listened-- I didn’t-- I can’t-- I can’t-- I tried to protect them, but I can’t…. I’ve...I’ve failed you…. I’ve failed everyone….”

You expected him to be furious, but when you looked up, he was smiling just as he had when you finally opened your eyes as a baby.

“You haven’t failed, my child. Only struggled along your journey. More than I would have liked...but then, neither of us know where these sorts of things are meant to lead,” he said.

You measured your words carefully, keeping your eyes away from your father’s face, “Father...I have deceived you.”

“How so?”

A sigh of defeat escaped you, “You have always insisted that there is no Daybreaker anymore...well, there is. I-”

“I knew,” he nodded. “Eventually, a man knows his own daughter too well to not know some things about her.”

“How- When-”

“Could you have gotten past Amora’s magic to the king and I on your sheer stubbornness alone? Possibly,” he chuckled a little, “but you would have needed the help of quite a bit of firepower to do it.”

You couldn’t help choking out a bittersweet laugh at his levity, even in death. Soon, though, you sobered again, “I’ve failed Asgard. I couldn’t protect them, not like this. I wish I could have died with you...things would have been better if I died with you.”

“For all the wonderful skills you had, my husband,” a beautiful, beautiful woman you’d seen only in dreams smiled as she sat beside your father, “I can’t believe you raised my daughter to feel that death was the only way to fix things.”

You were speechless. Your eyes...your hair...she had them all, and she was as radiant as you imagined her to be.

“Mother,” you breathed out, barely able to muster the strength for the simple word you’d never gotten to call anyone in your life.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you,” she held your face, and you wondered if it would have felt different if she had been a physical shape. “I’m sorry I never got to meet you before now. I’m sorry I didn’t get to watch you grow into who you are now.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you mumbled. “I’m a bloody mess, anyway. I got in over my head, shoved everyone away, and now I’ve got nothing. I can’t do this. I can’t do it. I’m not ready.”

Your mother and father looked between each other in a way you thought you once knew, and you almost wanted to huff at their silent exchange; perhaps once, it might have been common.

“What?” you frowned, “What’s that look for?”

“Are you the Lady of Perfectly Trained Leadership and Purity and Giving Good Speeches?” your father asked, smirking.

“No!” you glared, but there was no malice behind it, “That’s my point! How can I-” Something clicked inside you when you realized they were both smiling. “...Oh.”

“You’ve had all the ingredients for greatness, child,” your mother smiled. “But you’ve forgotten why we fight for our people. Spite is a powerful passion, I’ll admit...but not one that will last. You know what you need to save our people. You need only to remember what to do with it.”

Just like that, with your mother’s warm lips on your head, all their light dissipated, and you were left standing in a room of murmuring Asgardians, waiting to see what you would say next.

She was right, of course. Your mother barely knew you (at least as far as you could discern), and she was completely right about you. You knew exactly how to proceed; you just needed to warm that part of you back up again.

“...My father is dead,” you found your voice, stronger and clearer than before. “But he will not die in vain. None of them will have. We have each other, still. As we speak, Prince Thor is returning to Asgard to save us from the goddess Hela. Until then, though, we must hold on to hope and each other. We are not a place. We are a people. A strong, proud, resilient people who have survived far worse than one angry and lost goddess who wants to tear people apart in her name. Her power is in fear and doubt, and only hope and love will protect us now.”

“Y/N!” Sif barked suddenly, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Heimdall says they’re coming. They’re almost here.”

You frowned and bowed your head in thought as a whisper of worry rose among the crowd.

“Well, they’re not here yet, are they?” you boomed suddenly, bolstered by your newfound determination. “Stick together, listen to Heimdall and Sif. Keep each other safe, and head toward the Bifrost if at all possible.”

The room quieted under your authoritative tone.

“If we stick together...if we don’t allow them to tear us apart, then we can make it through this as one united people,” you swallowed, letting yourself only be slightly rattled at the truth and weight in your next statement. “I may not be able to make it out with you, and if not...then remember we are Asgard, and we are one. And no one can take that from you unless you let them.”

“For Asgard,” Sif nodded at you.

“For Asgard!”

You beamed as the crowd roared the call to arms back at you, gathering stones and sticks and the weapons they had been able to carry out on their backs, keeping their children and families and loves close as Sif began to lead small groups out a secret door you’d never known existed.

“You should be prepared at the palace, Y/N,” Heimdall advised. “If Hela learns we are headed towards the Bifrost, you will need to be prepared.”

“I will,” you nodded. “Just...let me leave something for her here.”

He smiled at the return of your spirit as you gestured a wave of fire at the nearest wall, before he sent your mind reeling back to your body.

-

Skurge had a million thoughts running through his head as he followed behind Hela up the rocky mountain range of the Asgardian woods. What should he have said to you? Could he have said anything at this point? Would Hela spare you, like she’d promised, if all these people were truly in the mountains like the peasants had suggested? Would she think you had known and didn’t tell her? Actually, that last part was true...he was too worried for you to separate the ‘what ifs’ from the actual deceptions toward his malevolent new employer.

“This is it,” Hela smirked at the large, beautifully carved stone as she and the army came to a halt. “There’s no other way in or out. We’ve got them all. They’re all right here. Executioner!”

Skurge braced himself before he swung his ax hard at the ancient stone. He didn’t count how many times; it would have pained him to have to tell his father he had destroyed such intricate work that he had likely done. When the rock fell through, he had to contain a gasp.

No one. There was no one. Only dust and decay and bones, and a smaller hole broken through the other side...facing the city.

“You’ve got to be…” Hela grumbled, looking around. There was no sign of life in the entire tomb. If there had been anyone there, they were gone now. The death goddess stormed up to the hole, blood boiling at the sight before her.

There was an ant-like clump of refugees flooding the gates from the city, and a red, black, and gold ship was flying into Asgardian airspace.

“NO!” she roared.

She could already feel a threatening pounding from the throne room floor that made anger begin to bubble up in her chest.

“Er, Hela, your queenliness lady…” Skurge waved her over to a wall. “You might want to see this.”

The goddess was buzzing with fury, but her executioner was bubbling with happiness and pride that he kept hidden under a steely half-smile at the message smoldering in the stone, sitting underneath a bright brand of the Daybreaker sigil.

This is what real power looks like, bitch. --D

The death goddess slashed the message away in a claw of green flame.

“I will deal with my dear brother,” she snarled. “And you will kill the girl.”

Skurge nodded, but he wasn’t really listening. He was too busy dealing with the flutter in his chest.

-

You steeled yourself as you tapped at your pendant again. It buzzed under your touch and expanded into your halberd.

“Yes, I know you’ve been restless,” you said sternly, “we’re going to war. Calm down. The fight’s not over yet.”

With a glimmering wave, you shifted into your armor under your cloak and allowed the billowing length to recede. You couldn’t have yourself getting caught on anything. Not when it could mean the difference between victory and loss.

Your ears perked at the sound of the dungeon door opening.

“I hear it,” you nodded quietly at the hum of warning from the weapon in your hands. “When they open the cell. Be ready.”

You stood back, poised to swipe, and you lunged with a roar as the light wall dissipated.

“Hey! I know you’ve been of the mind to hit me, but can you maybe not knock me on my arse now?!”

Your brow furrowed at your would-be victim, who had lightly side-stepped your attempted attack.

“Skurge?!” you sputtered, “What the bloody hell are you doing down here?!”

“Well, technically, I’m supposed to be chopping your head off, but Hela’s occupied right now.”

You placed a hand on your hip, “Oh, well, thanks for warning me that you’ll be executing me.”

“Dammit, that’s not what I’m--” he took a deep breath, “I’m here to rescue you.”

You were floored.

“Sorry, what?” you blinked.

“I told you, Hela’s occupied,” Skurge moved to a panel on the wall and pulled it open. “That gives you an opening to run to the Bifrost and escape with the rest of the refugees.”

“Skurge- You- Hold on,” you softened. “You do realize the last time you said you were going to help me like this, you pushed me out a window.”

“Good thing there are no windows on the bridge.”

“Skurge,” you said gently, “if I disappear like this, she’ll kill you. You know that.”

“Well,” he took in a breath, “you did say I’d have to die to redeem myself.”

You opened your mouth to tell him you had been wrong, tell him you were sorry, tell him you wanted to fix things now, but he wouldn’t let you finish.

“Besides, she can’t be sure I let you escape. Not if she doesn’t see you leaving. If things go south, I’m going to try to escape with you...but I don’t know if it’ll come to that. It’s more important that you get away than I do.”

“Skurge--”

“Just get moving. Don’t know how long she’ll be busy up in there,” he took both your hands, rubbing his thumbs over them like it may be the last time he saw you. “Stay safe. Be careful. ...And I love you.”

In a move that completely blindsided you, he took one of his hands back to cup your face and brought his lips down to yours. You closed your eyes at the friction of his facial hair against your chin, the tender pressure of his lips, and if you had your way, you could have floated off in the feeling forever, too entranced to react for this moment you had thought about once or twice but hadn’t had faith in for a long while.

And, just like everything else in your life, it was all too short.

He pulled away and gave your hand a firm squeeze before he headed back up the dungeon stairs, leaving you dazed and wondering how you hadn’t figured out his feelings before.

Your eyes followed his figure all the way until he was too far away to see anymore, not knowing if you would have the chance to reciprocate his actions.

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