#sorry odin… its because i love you…

[sieglinde-freud]

sometimes i forget fates has the fuckass tattered clothes thing when your unit takes too much damage and im always forcibly reminded when im watching odin nostank the entire map and suddenly the next combat animation shows the dude in a ragged ass cape like baby im sorry i didnt mean it… odinnnn :(

[fluffyfantasticducky]

How to Cure Pains and Heartaches

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader

☆ Synopsis: After such a bitter end, Loki has no choice but to fade away. To his surprise he awakens in bed where he will be taken care of. Why? What do they want of him? Who's that lovely mortal?

☆ Word Count: 6,266

☆ Notes: Loki being a swooning darling, he's recovering from injuries in a fix it AU where he survives the attack on the Statesman and he gets to live on earth.

☆ Warnings: Mention of Loki's trauma and torture courtesy of the Mad Titan, fuck you Thanos. Mention of gaining weight (but it isn't given a negative conotation).

No one could deny Loki had gone through a lot of stuff, simply his Asgardian nature and the amount of exposure he had had with war from a young age would (rightfully) horrify most Midgardians, plus the pressure of being royalty and the responsibility it demanded with him.

In retrospect, Loki always knew his amount of responsibility were no way near as high as Thor’s, which allowed Loki to get some relief by following his nature as God of Mischief. But still: meetings, war council, royal balls, and in general trying to keep an image of perfection to most of Asgard other than Thor’s group and his parents who truly knew of Loki’s more playful nature, it was quite draining.

And that was before the true horrors.

That one trip to Jotunheim had been the source of over a decade of disgrace. Knowing all that battle would cause, he never would’ve let those three other Jotuns into the vaults of Valaskjalf.

After that, it was tragedy after tragedy. And the worst of them happened in the Sanctuary II.

At first, he thought some bounty hunters had recognized him, given they seem to know who he was, and the only reason they spared his life was because it would be about a matter of time until they’d bargain his life with Odin.

But after several months where he was starved, and his only contact was to be tortured, where the Black Order tore his body apart bit by bit, breaking bones, tearing skin only to throw him back into an isolation cell, where all that kept him together was his pride and the thought that Heimdall could see him and start a rescue mission, thing he learned years later couldn’t be done.

And when he didn’t cave in, they shattered his mind as well, using the Mind Stone on his scepter, giving him no choice but to submit. Everything bad in his life prior to that point seemed to be blissful field trip.

And for many years later he thought he would spend the rest of his life suffering to atone to the horrors he unleashed onto Jotunheim and New York. And by the time the Sanctuary II intercepted the Asgardian escape ship on its way to Earth, and he felt himself fading from reality… nothing had proved him otherwise.

At least he had protected his brother…

…

Who would’ve thought that the next time he opened his eyes he would be laying in a hospital bed, flowers by his ankles and a cervical collar? He had a thousand questions. Where was he? Who brought him there? Why had he been saved? Why couldn’t they let him just die?

Just when he thought it was another round of the same type of torture the Black Order inflicted on him, the door opened… Only about a few hours after waking up, and just in time when his stomach started growling.

The first time he saw you, you felt like a vision. Beautiful and most of it all, kind.

“Loki how are you feeling?” you smiled at him, as you stepped inside the room with a tray of warm food. The smell made his mouth water. “Were you waiting for long? Sorry, I didn’t hear you wake up.”

Loki was quietly staring at you. Not only because his throat was dry, but because he had no idea who you were or what were your intentions.

But you didn’t seem bothered by his silence. You just let out a little chuckle.

“You seem more active today” you smiled, “Usually you can only stay awake for a few seconds. Are you hungry?”

Loki wanted to be proud and say nothing, but his body’s needs were stronger, and a rather loud growl of his stomach gave it away how hungry he was, making his cheeks flare up in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, I would be hungry too if I hadn’t eaten anything in 5 years” you spoke compassionately, but with a hint of humor.

5 years?!?

“How long have I been here?” he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse beyond recognition, and it hurt to speak.

“Oh, you poor thing, you must be thirsty” you said as you reached his food tray and grabbed a cup of water with a straw and placed it just before his lips. “About your question, a few weeks, a Stark satellite detected a faint life signal and Thor went to find you.”

You spoke in such a humane manner that Loki couldn’t help but lower his guard a bit, and he opened his mouth as you helped him drink.

The water was cold and fresh, it felt so relieving that he couldn’t hold back a sigh when he finished drinking, that only happened when the cup was empty.

You let out a soft giggle at the sight of him. It was then that he recognized you, sort of.

He vaguely remembered your laugh, it was faint, but if he pushed himself to think about it, it was there. He never saw your face, but the sound was familiar, so he concluded it must have been previous visits while he was still unconscious.

It was a pretty sound… innocent, pure.

“You mentioned my brother…” Loki asked. “Is he…?”

As he made his question, you set a table before him and the tray on top of it. It was a huge bowl of soup, and one of mashed potatoes. His stomach growled once again.

“Thor has been visiting you every day practically without exception” you told him. “He talks to you, keeps you updated about his life. Last week he came with Doctor Foster, it seems they started seeing each other again. But we’ve notified him you’re finally awake.”

You sat beside him on the edge of the bed and grabbed the spoon on the tray and started feeding him the soup. It was so warm, and the flavor was rich, that his eyes started watering. What cruel trick was all this kindness? When would this all go South?

His forming tears didn’t go unnoticed, and you cupped his face, your soft fingers caressing his cheeks to clean his tears.

“You don’t have a fever, does it hurt anywhere?” you asked.

“No… I feel per—” he choked on his words, “I feel perfectly fine… all things considered.”

“I’ll monitor your reflex later, but first focus on eating” you said gently. “You need to regain your strength.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, he was so hungry that if he had had more strength, he would just hold the bowl and chug it all down. By the time he was onto the mashed potatoes he was a lot stronger, the second meal was just as tasty, seasoned just right to make him want to keep eating until his stomach popped.

He even let out a soft little breathy burp, which made you giggle again.

“Don’t eat so fast!” you scolded him with a happy tone.

He found it in himself to laugh softly along with you.

“5 years without food, I remind you” he joked back. “I’ll eat as fast as I can.”

“You were blipped 5 years... you didn’t age a day.”

“Blipped?”

You spent the next few minutes filling him in what had happened. Thanos won, and half of the universal population vanished, for them it was only a few minutes at most… while the rest of the universe aged 5 years. Five years, where everyone thought he was dead, where he was dead.

Now, Loki wanted to cry. The amount of relief that washed over him made him rest back.

“Finally… I’m free…” he sighed. “It’s over… he’s gone…”

He tried covering his eyes when he noticed the sting coming from his left arm, he noticed a cast neatly wrapped around it.

“Your neck injury was the most concerning, but your arm and ankle were badly wounded as well” you explained, and he noticed another cast covering his foot from arch to his ankle. “Although your foot is mostly healed by now.”

He put some attention to his bandaged foot and wiggled his toes, which thank the gods responded perfectly.

“It’s a bit itchy” Loki pointed out.

“I’m pretty sure that’s normal” you chuckled and grabbed a pencil from your pocket, and sneaked it in his cast, and scratched his sole. “Here.”

But the touch, while it somewhat alleviated the itch, it had an unexpected tickly feeling that caused Loki to yelp and jerked his foot back.

“Hehe-hey!” he giggled.

“I’m sorry” you apologized with a soft chuckle.

“You’re lucky I’m too weakened to put a dagger to your throat” Loki spoke, but he noticed he couldn’t get rid of the amusement in his voice.

“Perhaps I should take the chance to really make you laugh then.” You smiled, twirling the pencil on your fingers. “Given you can’t do anything to stop me.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Loki blurted out, “If you even dare to… to…”

He felt his cheeks flush. It had been so long since he had been tickled, it felt silly, plus he was quite vulnerable right now.

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to upset you” you assured him, “…yet.”

You let out another soft laugh at the indignation in his face.

“Do you not know the consequences of crossing me?” Loki asked, “Are you that ignorant of the capabilities of the God of Mischief? I have terrorized this realm, Midgard bows before my power! I could finish you with a single hand.”

“What would you get out of it?” you asked bluntly. “You live here now; you would only lose.”

He looked at you and opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. Not only was he too weak right now to even keep that threat, but truly besides that little tickle you had been nothing to but kind to him, and even that had been with the intention to help him.

“Do you truly not fear me?” Loki asked after another moment of silence.

“Should I?” you asked with a happy smile.

Perhaps he found that little grin of yours to be too charming, it could be the fact that you had his food and water at your mercy, or it could be the fact that you were a purely friendly presence, which he hadn’t had in… he couldn’t remember for how long. But he truly didn’t want you to be scared of him.

“I suppose not” he finally said.

“Predictable.”

Loki let out a laugh.

“You’re a funny little one” Loki smiled.

Just then a loud noise came in as if something huge was stomping their way through the hall. Which proved to be not far off because soon a large blond figure tumbled onto the door frame.

“Brother…” both Asgardians said in unison.

The older brother’s eyes filled with tears as he rushed to the bed, and with the last self-control he possessed, Thor didn’t tackle the raven haired into a bear hug. Just… collapsed on his knees by the side of his bed.

“You’re awake…” the God of Thunder burst into messy sobs. “…Alive.”

In other times, Loki would’ve found Thor’s reaction ridiculous, mockable, or annoying… but after all they had been through and seeing the streak of his own hair tangled in one of Thor’s braids… he let out a soft sob as he gently reached to place his hand on Thor’s head.

“Ahem!” you cleared your throat to make yourself present. “As long as you’re careful with his neck, you two can hug.”

You smiled and left the room to give them space. Both brothers let out a laugh and Thor cradled his little brother in his arms, supporting his head as if he was a baby as his other hand was squeezing Loki.

“I told you the sun would shine on us again” Loki spoke softly.

“You idiotic, insincere, irresponsible, impulsive, inconsiderate fool!” Thor scolded him, sounding more relieved than anything.

“Oh, good, you ran out of insults that started with an I” Loki laughed.

“I beg you, brother. Never give me a scare like that again” Thor begged.

“In my defense, I didn’t fake it this time” he whispered.

There was an awkward silence as none of the princes knew what to say to each other, there was so much to say, but… where to start?

“I… heard you started seeing Doctor Foster again.”

That made Thor smile as started telling Loki what he had done with his life, how Asgard was doing, which was what finally broke Loki, hearing Asgard managed to live on was that finally burst into tears as he hugged his brother again.

The two brothers talked for hours, and for the first time in years, if not ever, Loki felt the conversation with his brother be purely lighthearted. He was so lost in the chat that it took him hours to notice…

“You’ve gained weight” Loki pointed out.

“Quiet, you imp…” Thor snorted. “It’s been tough these last 5 years.”

“I… did not mean to be judgmental” Loki assured him. “It just… I’ve been out for so long…”

“Well, don’t get used to this, I’m already exercising again, and I’m renouncing to beer… aside from social events” Thor said happily.

“Oh? I didn’t know you drank” Loki tilted his head. “But… good for you.”

Thor’s face darkened, making Loki immediately regret his comment.

“It was… Very rough five years…” Thor said again. “I suppose time wasn’t kind on me.”

Loki felt a pang of guilt settle on his chest, after Ragnarök he truly had no intention to pull another stunt like that. For once, he had every intention to stick by Thor’s side.

But at the time the Sanctuary II intercepted their ship, all Loki could think was protecting Thor. Because he knew that if anything happened to his brother, no one else would’ve had a fighting chance against the Mad Titan. But he had been reckless.

“I— I’m sorry brother…” Loki apologized, and Thor smiled at him. “How’s Asgard?”

“It’s been difficult as you may imagine… but, you know… us Asgardians are stubborn, we’ve managed.” Thor smile. “Little Asgard is thriving!”

“Oh, I’m painfully aware, you’re all a nightmare” Loki joked, making Thor laugh again.

Despite his sarcasm, something in the way Thor said us Asgardians made Loki smile, by now Thor knew very well his true nature, and yet he still treated him as one of his own, like his brother, maybe not bound by blood, but by something stronger.

The conversation kept going until Loki’s stomach growled in hunger, but by then the sun had set a while ago. And it didn’t take long after when you had stepped in the room with a tray of food and Thor excused himself for the night.

The meals were simple and soft for a good while, porridge, broths and soups, sauce-less pastas, yogurts, Jello, but having a pretty mortal such as yourself literally feeding him and tending to his every whim made his recovery quite pleasant. Especially when he started eating solid foods again and the meals were a lot tastier.

“You’re healing quite fast,” you told him as you checked monitored his ribs for any soreness. “I’ve heard injuries usually take maybe 3 or 4 times longer to heal. …In the best of circumstances, but Stephen said your bones are practically all healed now.”

“If someone can pull out a miracle like that, a god should be the right place to go” he joked as he kept holding his shirt up so you could.

“That’s fair, also having the best doctors and technology at our disposal helps, doesn’t it?” you quipped.

“Do not underestimate my divinity, mortal” he said dramatically.

“Oh, yes, forgive me, your godly-ness…” you bowed just as dramatically.

“You’ve been gaining weight” you said as you prodded your stomach.

He let out a yelp.

“Rude” he said cheekily.

“No, I mean, you were practically nothing but skin and bones when we found you” you assured him, “I mean you seem healthier now. You must be in your healthy weight again by now.”

“Do not flatter me” Loki smirked.

“Flatter you?” you gasped out a laugh. “Nonsense, it’s been my care the reason you no longer look like a malnourished cat!”

He did not expect you to start prodding and squeezing his belly, instantly causing him to burst out laughing. Curse his gut for being this vulnerable to your playful fingers.

“Nohohohoho! Don’t!” he whined between cackles. “Stohohohop!”

“Oh my god!” you laughed and gave him a small breather “I didn’t even have to do anything… But if you insist…”

“W-What…? Insist…?”

“I won’t stop…”

“W-What? N-No! PLEHEHEHEASE! NO! STOP!” Loki begged despite his pride, but the way you kept squeezing his belly, giving his skin soft pinches made him wheeze out shaky laughter was too much. “NOT MY— NOHOHOHOHOHO!”

You started focusing on the patch of skin around his belly button, which surprisingly enough was even more ticklish than his navel itself. He started digging his heels onto the mattress as he arched and squirmed on the bed.

“Okay, okay!” you squeaked out as you grabbed his ankle, forgetting your playful attack, to settle him back on bed. “Easy there… you’ll hurt your foot again.”

He was more focused on catching breath, but he still felt you helping him stretch and move his ankle to check if he hadn’t hurt himself in the middle of his squirming.

“You’re… huff… huff… the worst nurse…” he groaned.

“Ask for another nurse who can deal with you” you chuckled as you gently tickled his sole making him let out a giggle.

You weren’t exactly part of the medical team, but after everything that had happened, the Avengers were understaffed, and every task that Tony’s technology couldn’t fill in were done by the Avengers themselves, his brother and Maximoff twins helped with cleaning, Bruce and Clint cooked, Tony handled the finances (in more than just been the Compound’s sponsor), and so and so.

You were a lab assistant, although, not in the medical field. Yet, given your friendly nature and bond with the God of Thunder, Thor himself had entrusted you to look after his most precious thing, his little brother. But under normal circumstances, you’d be working with chemicals or mechanics by the side of your mentors and the Spiderling.

Although now, you had been tasked solely to look after Loki, given no one else was capacitated to deal with him and you seemed to understand each other, and Loki even had friendly interactions with you. Or well, friendly for Loki.

“Get up!” you whined pulling him by his healthy arm.

“I don’t want to” Loki protested.

“Why not?” you huffed defeatedly as you let go of him.

“I don’t exactly feel excited to be sat on a cold table to be prodded and squeezed and all to get stabbed.”

“Injections aren’t the same as getting stabbed, you big baby” you laughed, as you poked his sides, causing Loki to jump and swat your hand away.

“It’s a sharp metal piercing my skin, isn’t it?” he defended himself as he crossed his arm across his chest. “Call me a baby if you please, but it doesn’t excite me being pierced by your tiny blades.”

“L-Loki… are you afraid of needles?” you asked with an amused smile, he could tell by your tone that you were holding back laughter.

“I am not!” he scoffed.

“Oh! You are!” you smiled immensely.

“Is this funny to you?”

“N-No… Don’t worry, it’s cute. I used to fear needles too, you know, when I was five.” You grinned.

Loki’s ears perked up.

“That was a lie” he smiled cockily.

“What?”

“That’s a lie” he repeated himself. “You either still fear them or just recently stopped doing so.”

“Wha— that’s…” your cheeks turning pink were the last tell.

“God of Lies, don’t bother denying it. I can tell when some lies to me” he grinned triumphantly. “Don’t worry, it’s cute.”

You huffed as you smacked the back of his hand.

“And here I was going to tell you my trick to control my nerves” you huffed.

“Which is…?” Loki asked, partly to tease you, but deep down actually wanting to know.

You shuffled through your bag and pull-out headphones and handed them to him. Loki forced himself to ignore the way your hand brushed against his when you handed them to him.

“Just close your eyes and listen to some music” you smiled, “it helps with a lot of things. But if you need to you can hold my hand and squeeze it if you get scared.”

He smiled at you. “Thank you.”

“Tell you what, if you’re brave, I’ll make sure you have your favorite ice cream for dessert today. How does that sound?” you offered.

“I’m not a child you can’t bribe like that” Loki rolled his eyes, “… Two bowls.”

You nodded and helped him get up and walk to get his check up and vaccine. Given how long he had been in bed, he was still doing some rehab and needed help to walk longer distances.

And he did take your word and held your hand all the time, although he did notice it was you who squeezed his hand when the needle came out. He had even forgotten to put on the headphones by the time the needle was out. And you did keep your word of spoiling him with his favorite ice cream.

“The second bowl is gonna melt, so you might as well eat it with me…” he mumbled between bites.

In a few months Loki was practically fully recovered and soon he was starting his rehab trainings. And of course, he had already picked a sparring partner.

“Do not go easy on me” Loki stated the first time.

“Oh, you like it rough then?” you grinned as you two circled around each other on the sparring mat. “Duly noted.”

He was not one new to flirtatious exchanges. He had been alive for over a millennium, and he had had plenty lovers before. But for some reason your banter made him flustered and tied his tongue into a knot.

“If I wanted it rough, I’d pick literally anyone else, agent” Loki excused himself. “You couldn’t take me if you tried.”

“Couldn’t I?” you grinned, noticing his cheeks flare up.

Damn you, you tenacious and annoyingly perceptive little thing.

“In a fight, you pest” Loki huffed.

“Ah, bummer” you smiled cheekily.

And while it was true that your human strength wasn’t a match for his regular god-like standards, you actually provided an interesting challenge. Besides, he was still recovering so using his full strength wasn’t an option anyway. You were fast, and you jumped around him like a rabbit and landed the softest blows as he spun around you trying to follow or even read your patterns.

“What’s wrong, is the mighty God of Mischief unable to catch up?” you smiled as you poked his ribs lightly before sneaking away.

You didn’t expect Loki to yelp.

“D-Don’t!”

Your face was puzzled for just a second, but as soon as it had happened, you had put two and two together and grinned in an almost cartoonish way.

“I think this training just became more fun” you smile as you poked him again.

“Do not even think about it!” he huffed, as a nervous smile twitched its way into his lips.

“What happened to not go easy on you? I’m just obeying.” you grinned and started chasing him after.

The way you wiggled your fingers with a mischievous in his direction awoke something primally playful. And as a bright smile appeared on his face, he started running away from you.

“You will never catch me!” he called as he ran.

You laughed and ran after him.

He would never admit it out loud, but the way he felt in that moment was rejuvenating, he hadn’t done something so silly and non-transcendent purely for the sake that it was fun. But you were ditching training to chase him around under the threat of tickling him if you caught him. All for the sake of playing with him like a kid despite both of you being young adults. And even more surprising is that Loki found himself eager to play along, even if the idea of getting tickled made him nervous.

Which… eventually did happen, curse his weakened stamina and aching ankle. That day he also learned to fear when you threatened him with tickles, you were devastating when you wanted to be.

“Nohohoho!” he laughed as your fingers dug onto his stomach. “This is ehehehe cruel!”

By the time you had caught up with him you had already reached the living room and he had tumbled onto the couch.

“Oh my gosh, you’re so ticklish!” you giggle, your finger swirling around his navel.

“Ehehehehe! Get away from there!” he laughed.  “Oh Norns! Stop it!”

“C’mon, Loki, you’re a big guy, you can take it!” you giggled and kneaded his belly sides with your fingers with terrifying skill.

But you were kind enough to give him a break.

“Gods abohohohohove, I’m begging you, dove!” he whined. “Don’t torturehehehehe me like this!”

But it somehow served to strengthen your bond. Loki already had a good concept of you, you were a kind and generous person. You were one of the few people he could’ve called a friend. But seeing you weren’t completely disciplined and were willing to break schedule to have mindless fun was relieving. He feared that living in a S.H.I.E.L.D. building would mean they expected him to become a soldier.

So, he started looking for you out of the designated times you had together. He had come to really like to come and annoy you when you were working, playing with your pencils, hiding your stuff, and of course tickling you to distract you when he was craving your attention… which happened pretty often.

“Lohohohoki!” you whined. “I’m wohohorking!”

“I’m not saying you should stop” he grinned as he skittered his fingers along your ribs and sides, just gently scratching over your thin shirt. “Take this as a test of your focus.”

“Nohohohoho, Loki!” you wheezed. “Ihihihit’s so bahahahad! Stohohohop ihihit!”

“Mm~ I’m not sure” he purred in your ear, knowing damn well how much it made you curl up in a ball. “I kinda like hearing the noises you make, they’re… what’s the word? Cute~”

You screeched as you hid your face with your hands, muffling your laughter. Norns, you were so precious. He may have been teasing you when he said you were cute, but he meant it.

You were a lovely company, helping him heal by doing his routines and rehabilitation regimes, while he reviewed the files regarding New Asgard. You massaged his healing ankle while Loki read the documents that were handed to him.

“This is absolutely atrocious!” Loki scoffed smacking the files. “What is this, Infinity Conez? Who approved this? Look at this! Thanos getting the Infinity Stones is a universal tragedy, but to my people more than anyone!”

“Well, that’s why Thor created the New Asgard Council” you reminded him. “He gets help ruling Asgard, and Asgard gets a group of capable people leading them. You have voice and vote.”

“They will hear about this” Loki said firmly. “I will not allow my people to see that when they go to the market! That’s just disrespectful and heartless!”

“I agree with that” you nodded. “I’d be hurt to see something that traumatic turned into an attraction, there must be a better way to make an ice cream store. What about B-Ice Frost?”

“B-Ice Frost?” Loki asked.

“Yeah! A rainbow bridge themed ice cream store that actually gives a nod to your culture” you suggested. “The logo could an ice cream cone with rainbow sprinkles.”

“Hmm, I’ll notify that suggestion,” Loki nodded as he wrote it down. “Thank you.”

Months into knowing each other and spending a ridiculous amount of time together, and Loki started noticing how being around you boosted his mood, he couldn’t stop thinking about certain details about you, like the way you played with your hands when you were nervous, or how you scrunched up your nose slightly when you smiled at him, how your eyes sparkled when you were assigned a new project you had been excited for, the butterflies in his belly when you placed your hands on him even to greet him or help him stretch before training. And…

Oh Gods… he was falling in love with you.

For a while he didn’t know what to do with himself. He tried carrying himself normally. But it was overwhelming the way he felt about you, it took one look in your direction, and he felt his heart racing. Trying to avoid you didn’t work either, because his entire being craved being around you, so that didn’t last too long. So, at some point, he stopped fighting it. He knew there was no way a being as good as you would even look in his direction, he was a monster, who had done unforgivable things to your planet.

Surely, your kindness had a limit. Surely, once he was fully healed, you’d forget about him. In fact, Loki feared the day he’d be considered fully recovered and you’d abandon him.

“C’mon, lazybones. We’re late for training” you grinned as you pulled him from the couch.

“I do not feel like training today” Loki yawned as he stretched out his arms to you as an invitation to hug him. “Why don’t we watch a movie? You can choose.”

The way your resolve faltered was beyond endearing. Even if you two weren’t anything, it was common knowledge you were what they called a cuddle bug.

“Loki… it’s important you do your rehab exercises” you said softly.

“I am not in the mood for training” Loki repeated.

“Oh, is that how it is?” you said in a playful yet menacing tone. “I’ll have to persuade you then.”

“What? N-No! D-dohohon’t!” Loki burst out laughing when he felt your fingers over his belly. “Nohohoho! Not thehehehehere!”

“Get up!” you teased him as your fingers pinched the sides of his stomach.

“I don’t wahahahant to!” Loki laughed as he kicked the cushions with his heels. “I’m comfortable hehehehere!”

“It’s important you do your exercises, it’s part of your rehab!” you insisted. “C’mon, doctor’s orders.”

“I dohohohon’t follow a mortal’s— ahaha orders!” he wheezed when you found that damned spot below his navel.

“Then I’m not stopping, you’ll spend the evening as a giggly wiggly worm.”

He had to give you something, you knew exactly how to make him squirm. His hips were bucking trying to stop you and his hands were pushing your wrist, but he wasn’t used to dealing with a normal human’s strength, so he didn’t want to risk hurting you.

“Pleahahahase! Cut it— OW!”

Immediately you jolted and stop everything you were doing, cupping your hands over your mouth and looking at him horrified.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” you asked.

“Yes, I’m quite alright. My back aches… that is all.” He assured you as he sat back up.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful, you’re still recovering.”

“Oh no, the back pain has been with me for quite a few years already” he said, wanting to ease your conscious.

“What…?”

“Well, yes. The Black Order aren’t exactly kind when they force you into their lines.” Loki said simply. “The pain comes back every so often.”

“I’m sorry…” you look at him. “Can I help?”

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing you could d—”  

You surprised him by sitting behind him and started rubbing his shoulders, softly at first, feeling him.

“No wonder you are sore, you’re stiff like a board” you said feeling around his spine, soon starting to add more pressure.

He let out a few groans, it hurt a bit at first as you undid the knots of stress of his shoulders. He sighed as he soon felt himself slipping away.

“C’mere” you spoke with utmost softness, as you helped Loki rest on his stomach just to keep massaging his back. “Hehe, you take up most of the couch, I kinda forget how tall you are sometimes.”

“Sorry…” he yawned no even filtering his thoughts.

“It’s okay” you said amusedly, “it’s not a bad thing.”

Your hands rubbed his back with gentle and caring touch. You were so kind and meticulous. Your skill might be up for debate, you were good, but someone much pickier could argue there were professional masseuse that were much better. Perhaps that was true, but no one else had touched him so lovingly, so selflessly. You took your time, and he even noticed every so often you stopped to stretch your fingers that grew tired, but you didn’t complain, you didn’t stop.

He didn’t know when or for how long, but when he woke up you were still massaging your back.

“You snore when you sleep” you spoke in the softest voice, he didn’t want to get his hopes up, but you seemed endeared. “Had a nice nap?”

“Probably the best nap I’ve had since I was maybe 150 years old.” He said, letting out a chuckle at your confusion. “I was still a toddler by then.”

“I’m glad… you really seemed like you needed it” you said softly. “Do you feel better?”

He let out a yawn and stretch, rolling over on his back to look at you.

“Much better, thank you” he smiled politely.

“No problem…” you said with a shyness that was unfamiliar for him, he even got to see the pleasure to see a lovely blush adorning your cheeks. “Um… w-well… I’ll go to… you know…”

“Ah, of course…” he muttered as he saw you run off.

He was a little bit disappointed, but he tried not to think too much about your attitude for the sake of his sanity. Of course, he failed. It was the only thing he could think about

It made him build up the courage to go out for town and buy a bouquet. He thought about red roses, but he saw a bouquet of violets and purple sweet peas and white roses, he just knew that was the one.

He even used his phone for a change to ask you to meet him in the compounds garden, he hated using his cellphone. He had asked Banner to let him use his therapy flower greenhouse. He calculated the hour for the prettiest sky colors to ensure a romantic setting for his love declarations.

Minutes earlier his heart was thumping so loud it was drumming in his ears. He felt his mouth dry, and he was sweaty.

“Loki?” he finally heard your voice as you walked in.

“Over here!” he called as he set his bouquet, behind him, barely hiding it behind himself. “H-Hi… Thanks for coming.”

“No problem” you smiled. “I didn’t know you wanted to try Bruce’s gardening therapy. That’s really good.”

“N-No… I— Uh… I just wanted to… have some privacy.”

“Oh?” you asked as you sat behind him.

“I just… wanted to uh, give you this… as a thank you” Loki said, handing you the bouquet. “You’ve been exceedingly kind to me for months, helping me heal, keeping me in check, and that massage the other day… it really helped me feel better.”

“It’s been my pleasure. You’ve been a lovely patient” you said sweetly as you smelled the flowers.

“T-That’s not the only reason why I wanted to… see you here…” Loki barely spoke out, his mouth felt dry, and he felt lightheaded. “You’ve been a delightful company and a wonderful friend… I can’t say that about a lot of people, and probably even less can say the same thing about myself…”

“That’s not true.” You cut him off. “You’re funny, well-mannered, smart, educated, charmingly stubborn, and a stimulating company. There’s not a boring moment with you around.”

Loki’s cheeks flushed at your sweet words, you weren’t even trying to, but his heart fluttered.

“T-That’s why I mean, you are… a— uh… this is ah— not easy to say… but you… um… I appreciate you.”

“I like you too, you’re a lovely friend” you said sweetly.

“N-No… I am not trying to be friendly” Loki said in a quick gasp of courage. “I-I would like to f-formally court you.”

“Court me…?”

“I think here on Midgard it’s addressed as dating…” Loki said, bracing himself for rejection.

“I’d love to.”

“What…?” Loki asked.

“I’d love to go out with you” you said, gently kissing his cheek.

Loki grinned happily.

“Tomorrow at 8?” Loki offered, “I— we could go to a nice restaurant, I’ll take you there. I could ask for a chauffeur to take us… we— we could…”

You surprised him with a little poke on the ribs, that cut him off with the urge to giggle.

“8 is perfect, I’ll drive us to wherever you like” you smiled, “Just pick a restaurant. But, how about tonight I take you for a nice dinner inside and a movie on the lounge room?”

“I’d like that, very much” Loki smiled softly as he pressed his forehead against yours.

He saw you intertwine your fingers with his own, causing him to smile. You lovely thing. It was a lovely sensation. As you pulled him up to his feet, so he’d follow you inside. Which he did with a bright smile.

What a lovely life he had found on Earth.

| MASTERPOST |

[idksmtms]

You Are Not One of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 7

Full Request Part

Part 6 << PART7 >> Part 8

AN: I am so so sorry that this took me so long! I’m ngl, I lost a bit of inspiration for this for a while but I kinda forced myself to sit down and write it and it felt really good to finish something I felt I had given up on! I tried to make it a big one to make up for all the time I was gone! 

I also went back and read all the Anon messages I got from so many people and they really helped me, so thank you to absolutely everyone and all the anons who contributed ideas. I def included some in this part (and the coming parts) so if you spot it, I hope you enjoy it! 

Also, for the timing of his birthday versus when he started at Yancy Academy, IDK guys, I made it up. I don’t actually know about when he started versus when his birthday was so just… let it go ig. 

ALSO, I copied the dialogue for the diner scene almost verbatim from the show so I can’t take credit for writing that, but the descriptions attached to the dialogue are still mine. 

PS. I got a new divider that I love heheheh 

Also, I really hope y’all notice the significance of each of his birthday presents because I worked so unnecessarily hard on those. 

Summary: In one place, Percy grows up with his Aunt Sally, dealing with the struggles of being a demigod child. In another, you try to pretend you haven’t just given up your son and a life you have always wanted. Neither world is going as one would hope. 

Word count: 7.3k

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they are both thousands of years old), personal insecurity, insecurity about one’s parenting, absentee parents technically, light angst, Percy believing there is something wrong with him, negative view of one’s own ADHD and dyslexia, any warnings associated with Percy’s adventures, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

When you returned to Valhalla, you tried to put on a brave face. Your return was denoted by a grand feast, and the Aesir were simply so happy to see you return no one questioned the way you occasionally turned away to brush off stray tears or gazed at Yggdrasil as if you wanted to see into one of the worlds nestled in its branches. But aside from all of that, you were rather good at pretending to be happy. You drank a few sips of ale for every mug Thor drained, you danced half the night with Baldur, and you sat cosied up with Loki, ready to listen to whatever story of his latest shenanigans he wished to bestow on you. Everyone was happy. Things were as they were meant to be. 

As the sun began to creep toward the horizon and the Aesir made their way out of the grand hall, you found yourself walking with Odin back to your old quarters in Valhalla. When he first came up to you as you stood from the feast table, he had wrapped you up in his arms, whispering how he was happy at your return. Even now, he occasionally turns to look at you with his remaining eye and smiles gently. The walk was peaceful, quiet, a stillness in the air at that hour just before dawn. 

“Do you know what I gave up my eye for?” He asked out of the blue. You furrowed your eyebrows, tilting your head and looking at him almost incredulously. 

“Of course, all the gods know, you sacrificed your eye for all the knowledge of the world.” 

“Hm,” he nodded. Then he stopped in the hallway and turned to fully face you. You clasped your hands in front of you, heart suddenly beating just a little faster. “Did you know that this also means I know about Perseus?” 

You could suddenly hear the blood rushing in your ears. You could see Odin in front of you, but you also couldn’t. Your hands were sweaty and your dress was suddenly tight around your ribs. You looked up at him, shallow breaths blowing from your lips. But then Odin smiled, a small sad smile that somehow broke your heart just that little bit more. 

“I am the only one that knows, and it should be kept that way.” He reached out and caressed your cheek, and you closed your eyes, a tear slipping down your cheek that he wiped away. “If it were different, I would have cherished meeting him.” Then he pulled away and walked back in the direction of the feasting hall. You listened to his footsteps fade away, before entering the room you had left behind for millenia. 

Every year, without fail, it rained on Percy’s birthday. When he first noticed, he thought it meant something special. That there was something magical out there, wishing him well. Whatever higher power was out there, they knew he loved to swim, to be in the water, and they sent the rain just for him. As he grew, he began simply chalking it up to weather patterns. August was just the time of year when rain happened upon the city. It wasn’t anything special, this was simply the one part of his life where he was lucky. 

Sally knew it was a blessing. She knew it was his father, celebrating the day in the best way he knew how, sending a message to Percy in the only way he could. She always took Percy outside, regardless of if the rain became a storm. She knew Percy would be safe in the rain. They made it a habit to go onto the fire-escape when the rain was at its worst, and they would spin around and dance and laugh. 

In all the time Sally had spent raising Percy, through all the challenges and the struggles, she never failed to notice how alike to his mother he was. Percy, seemingly since he was born, was obsessed with the colour blue. He only wanted to eat blue food, only wanted to wear blue clothes (it took a lot of convincing to introduce other colours to his wardrobe) and all the toys he chose were blue. He had an immense sweet tooth, and every time she watched him bite into a blue chocolate chip cookie, she fondly remembered the afternoon she had sat with his mother and watched the ravenous pregnant woman devour an entire tray of those same cookies. He smiled brightly and constantly, always happy and mischievous, just like his mother. But he was also trapped like his mother. He also cried like his mother. And most of all, both good and bad, he loved just as sincerely, as fiercely as his mother. 

Every year on Percy’s birthday, this fierce love was demonstrated. A surprise present would arrive, wrapped in shiny blue wrapping paper with only ‘To Percy Jackson’ written on it in loopy, elegant handwriting. Each year the box contained something different, something odd but somehow heartwarming and special. Sometimes he didn’t know why in the world someone would send him these things, but they felt important, and he kept them lined up on the chest of drawers opposite his bed, and counted them each night before he went to bed. At least when he was still living at home. He even had presents from years he didn’t remember, going all the way from his first birthday to his latest. 

On his first birthday, he had apparently received a spool of golden thread. For the life of him he couldn’t understand why someone would give a one year old thread. It’s a choking hazard! What were they thinking?! But it was beautiful and shiny, and sometimes he thought it might just be real gold, but he didn’t want to find out if it was. It somehow felt… more than just something for money. He used it only for the most important things, but however much he seemed to unravel, the thread never seemed to end. 

On his second birthday, the package was smaller. Sally sat him up and unwrapped it in front of him to reveal a little toy throne. It was small, about the size of an adult hand, and made of hard resin. It was so intricate, coloured like the ocean, even white and frothy in some places, and looked as if it was made with the whorls of the ocean. It had been his favourite little toy for a long time. 

His third birthday present was simply a feather. It was beautiful, and no matter how much he crushed the fibres or threw it around, it never lost its perfect shape. It came with a flat metal stand that had a little foam rectangle in the centre so he could stick the tip of the feather into it and leave it as a decoration. The metal stand was simply labelled ‘Pegasus’ and three year old Percy staunchly believed it was a feather from the wing of a Pegasus. Even at the ripe old age of thirteen he sometimes still liked to hope it was a feather from Pegasus, simply so he could believe that magic existed. 

For his fourth birthday, he received a framed painting. Even at four years old he thought it was weird, and he still believed it was an absolutely insane present to get a four year old. A painting? Seriously? It was beautiful though, and he appreciated it a lot more once he was older than he did at the time. He didn’t know where it was supposed to show, there was no date and no artist’s signature. The edges showed that the viewer was looking through the mouth of a cave onto some type of secret hidden lake. Trees surrounded the lake, and it had the most beautiful clear water. The artist had even depicted the rocks at the bottom, and sometimes, in the quietest and stillest moments of the day, if he looked really hard at the painting, he could almost see the water lapping at the shore. He could almost hear the gentle chirp of birds and the soft rustle of leaves. The entire painting always made him feel so odd, as if he could feel someone’s else's memories, someone else’s feelings. Someone had been happy there once, but now they only looked at it with sadness, as if a wonderful day by the lake had been ruined by a fight in the car on the way home. 

His fifth birthday present was just as odd as the rest of them. He still didn’t quite understand why someone had gifted him five oysters with pearls inside of them. He didn’t believe the pearls were real (that was the only reason he hadn’t pawned or sold them off so he could get some extra money for his Aunt Sally) simply because he had never seen an oyster like that. No one had, not even google. He thought they were pretty though, and kept them lined up on the back of his nightstand rather than on the chest of drawers. 

His favourite birthday present, from all those he had ever received, came on his sixth birthday. It was a conch shell, bigger than both the palms of his hands put together, with a dark blue colour that slowly faded to white as it twisted in on itself. Normally when he held it up to his ear, he could hear the sea, but unlike any other conch he had ever listened to. He could hear waves crashing, he could hear the ruffling and snuffling sort of sound they made as they frothed onto the shore. He could hear the swoosh as the waves pulled back. He could even hear the distant sort of gurgling a person hears when they’re underwater in the ocean, the sound of water moving about you. But then, at the darkest parts of the night, when he couldn’t sleep for whatever reason and pressed the shell to his ear, he could hear a gentle voice whispering ‘I love you’. It was soft, but calming and loving, the kind of ‘I love you’ a father whispers to his son just as he puts him to bed. He had never heard the voice before, but secretly he always wished it was somehow the voice of his own father. He tried not to think about that as much anymore. His father simply wasn’t here. 

A little zombie looking figurine arrived for his seventh birthday. This one felt a little more kid-appropriate, and he had loved playing with it when he was still into action figures. For a while he hadn’t known what character it was supposed to be, because while it looked like a zombie, it didn’t really look like the zombie figurines he had seen some of the other kids play with. The little circle that connected the two feet of the figurine was engraved with the word ‘Draugr’ and Aunt Sally had had to google that for him. The stories had scared him so much that for a while he had hidden the figure in the back of his toybox. 

By the time his eighth birthday had rolled around, he had begun to grow an interest in Greek mythology and the stories of Greek heroes. When he received a little storybook on Perseus and his adventures, he had asked Sally if she was the one sending him the secret presents. It had to be his Aunt Sally. She knew he liked Greek mythology, she had been the one to tell him that he was named after Perseus. Sure, the earlier gifts had been really weird, but maybe she had just become a better gift-giver over time? But Aunt Sally denied it, and when they opened the book, a little picture had been put in as a bookmark. It depicted a cabin high up on the cliffs of the fjords, small but homely looking, and it was simply marked with the word Norway in the bottom corner in that same loopy handwriting. Sally had simply replied “see, it can’t be from me because I’ve never even been to Norway. Plus, kid, have you ever seen me write that neatly?” He had sat there and read the entire book, pushing through even though the letters bounced around and sometimes he had to look completely away to be able to try and focus again. He kept the picture in the book and the book on his nightstand as well. Though he had read it countless times, thumbed each page a million times, the book still looked good as new. 

On his ninth birthday he got… a jar of sand. He was pretty disappointed at first, staring at it for a whole minute after he had taken it out of the wrapping. But then he saw that a little label had been pasted onto the top of the metal lid of the jar that simply said ‘Montauk’ and he realised it must be from the beach in front of the cabins they went to every year. It was seemingly sentimental, and it had made Aunt Sally smile all sad and happy and teary that he had told her to keep it in her room, so it would stay safe. 

On his tenth birthday, he only received an envelope. It was made of the same shimmery blue paper as the wrapping of all the other gifts he had ever received, and it had the same loopy handwriting, but it had been pushed under the door. Aunt Sally usually got her letters from the box downstairs, he had thought it was weird, but she had told him not to worry, that this must be special because it was his birthday. The only thing in the envelope was a picture. It was square, and about the size of a polaroid, but glossy like it had been taken by a digital camera and printed at some fancy shop. He couldn’t quite tell what it was at first. It looked like it was taken underwater, he could see little flecks of seaweed floating and sand that had been kicked up by the waves and little bubbles here and there. He could see the sandy floor as well, the way some of it was mid-movement with the waves. ‘Midnight on Montauk - where the water meets the sand’ was written on the back, and he thought it was weird that he had gotten two gifts from Montauk now. Nevertheless, he pinned the picture to the corkboard above his chest of drawers. 

On his eleventh birthday he got a gold coin. He was so excited at first. This was the first time he had ever gotten money as a present, let alone a frickin’ gold coin! He had even promised Aunt Sally he would take her out for ice cream with the money from the coin. But then he had looked at it again and realised that it was stamped with a trident on both sides. He had suddenly deflated, thinking it was some kind of gimmick coin they sold at souvenir shops (this gift-giver seemed to be way too sentimental) but Aunt Sally had quickly pressed it into his palm and told him to keep it very very safe. He kept it on him at all times now. At least some of his jeans had that little seemingly useless pocket, making it easy for him to carry it around. 

His last birthday, the one right before everything went wrong for the millionth time and got him sent to Yancy Academy, had brought a flat box filled with shredded paper. Nestled inside it was a framed weather report from the day he had been born. At the top was the cut out of a headline ‘Largest Storm to Ever Hit Montauk and all of New York’. Below it, there were a bunch of different images, from graphs about the intensity of the rainfall to satellite images of the eye of the storm and the area it covered. He thought it was kind of funny, and he put it up proudly on the chest of drawers. That day was the first time in a long time he had thought the rain on his birthday really meant something again. Maybe it wasn’t something special for him, maybe it was just the weather remembering the storm it had put on that day, and sending some rain in its memory. But it meant something. 

Grover heard whispers in his dreams. He never quite remembered what they were, never quite remembered what they said, but he knew that something whispered to him in his sleep. A woman, a soft, lilting voice that sounded just out of reach, was all that he had gleaned thus far. He didn’t know if the forces were good or bad, where the voice came from, but whenever he awoke there was a small niggling feeling inside him that he should be doing something. Deep in the pit of his stomach he felt like he had to be outside Camp Half-Blood, had to be chasing something or maybe finding something. It was an itch that no other satyr duty seemed to satiate. No amount of berries collected, animal cages cleaned, campfires attended made him forget the voice, forget the desire to follow its orders, whatever they may be. 

When he got his next mission to escort a demigod back to the camp, everything seemed to click into place inside him. When he was told that he would be responsible for bringing Percy Jackson safely back to the camp, it was like the gods themselves had come in and soothed whatever had been writhing inside him. This was what he had been waiting for. This was what the whispers had commanded for him. And somehow, he knew that this was the most important journey in his entire life… 

Three days before Percy’s twelfth birthday, a blue butterfly landed on his hand as he sat outside his latest school. It was the end of his first official week at Yancy Academy, and the school was rather… daunting. All the kids looked at him like he was dirt beneath their shoes and nothing seemed to be clicking with him. He was trying his best. When the kids whispered about him, he ignored it. When they started messing with his things, he just asked his teachers for new notebooks and moved on. Whatever they did, he chose to try peace and quiet. He didn’t want to make life even more difficult for his Aunt Sally, she was already doing everything she could to make sure he had a decent school to go to; this was their last chance and he wasn’t going to be the one that screwed it up. 

He sighed and rested his elbows on his crossed legs, staring out at the yard. If nothing else, at least Yancy had a nice garden to look at. He hadn’t noticed the fluttering little creature until it was directly in his line of sight. It took a few turns around in front of his face before landing directly on the tip of his nose. The little legs were slightly ticklish and he breathed out of his mouth to resist the urge to sneeze. 

It was beautiful. It almost glowed in the light, like a haze was surrounding its edges, and he reached up to gently touch the tip of its wing. It shattered right in front of his eyes, like a glass breaking against the floor. The little pieces floated all around and landed on his clothes, sticking to his jeans. He stared at his lap, wide eyed. What the- He closed his eyes and took three deep breaths in, a technique one of the many councillors had taught him to try and re-centre himself in the world. When he opened his eyes again, the pieces were still there, like glitter all over his clothes, but they were beginning to fade. 

Percy stared at his clothes, at the fading pieces of a butterfly that had somehow flown directly to him then shattered like glass, and stood up with a determination to forget this ever happened. He shook his head, as if to shake his brain into action. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. No one would believe him anyway. This was just another pegasus in the window. He wouldn’t speak of it until the next time he was at home. Aunt Sally could calm him down, Aunt Sally would make him feel better and they would solve this. There was just something fundamentally wrong with him, they needed to fix it soon. With a clench of his fist, he walked back inside, only to bump directly into someone who quickly introduced themselves as Grover Underwood….

“And then Grover beat me, Aunt Sally!” Percy told her excitedly as they sat at the dining table ravenously devouring stacks of blue pancakes. Sally smiled down at the boy, reaching forward and ruffling his curly hair as he shoved another forkful into his mouth. 

“Grover sounds awesome, I’m glad you guys found each other,” she told him happily, pretending like the satyr hadn’t already introduced himself as Percy’s guardian. “If you want, you can invite him up here today, we can have a little birthday party.” 

“Nah, todays about you and me Aunt Sally,” he smiled brightly up at her, syrup painting the corners of his mouth, and she stood up to press a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Alright then mister, have I got plans for you this weekend! I was gonna get us passes for the waterpark today but I knew it was gonna rain so it’s been postponed for tomorrow. Today will start with a swim at the indoor pool in a country club in Manhattan! Someone I know gave me her pass for the weekend,” Sally giggled, reaching out to high five Percy as he exclaimed ‘no way!’. 

“Is it Denise? I love Denise,” Percy asked excitedly, momentarily forgetting his plate. 

“No, I mentioned to one of my regular customers that it’s your birthday this weekend and that you love to swim so she got us signed up as her guests for the weekend!” Sally explained, smiling triumphantly. 

Though she always tried her hardest, sometimes she felt like Percy missed out on a better life because she didn’t make enough money. But Percy simply jumped up and hugged her tightly, whispering a ‘thank you’ against her ear. 

“Hold on, you haven’t even heard the entire plan!” She exclaimed, laughing as he pulled away and raised his hands as if in surrender. “Ok, so, then we’re gonna go get ice cream, I found this cool place near the country club that has a bunch of blue ice creams and I thought we could get a scoop of each so we have those cones piled with like ten scoops. Then we’ll come back here for a mov-” 

There was a knock at the door. Sally frowned for a second, turning to the door, but there was no other sound and she looked back to Percy as something dawned on her. She smiled gently, a rather wistful look in her eyes all of a sudden, and got up from where she was sitting adjacent to him. 

“That must be your special present.” Percy swallowed his latest too-big mouthful and got up from the table to meet Aunt Sally in the hallway. 

It was cube shaped this time, about the size of both his palms put together, and it had simply been left in front of their door. Sally brought the box inside and they stood by the window to look at it in the dim grey light from outside. It was covered in that same shiny blue wrapping paper as every other year, and his name was written in that same loopy style with a fresh black pen. His face was contorted in confusion and he took it from Sallys hands, ripping through the wrapping paper to the baby blue cardboard box beneath. He opened that too and Sally watched on curiously as he pulled out something wrapped in bubble wrap. Percy pulled the little pieces of tape holding it together and unfolded the sheet of wrapping to find a snowglobe nestled inside. 

The little stand that the orb was perched on was a blue so dark it was almost black, and smooth, without any engraving or description of the scene inside the ball. The globe itself showed a little scene of what looked like a campground, with lots of cabins and a big bonfire in the middle. It even had a little sign pointing in different directions, and had an open-air pavilion near the edge. It was cute, a little fancy, but he had no idea why in the world someone would send this to him. He had never been to camp before, but especially not this camp, whatever it was. He held it up to Sally and frowned at it. 

“I have no idea where this is,” he told her, but she was staring at it so intensely that he paused. Percy raised an eyebrow and pushed it toward her. “You know where this is? Have you been here before?” At first Sally didn’t answer, because yes, she knew where it was, she knew exactly what the snow globe was showing her, and she knew that it was a message. It meant that soon, she would have to say goodbye to Percy, and soon Percy would know everything she had been hiding from him his entire life. 

“It’s a campground, right?” She asked nonchalantly, “it’s cute though, I like it. Keep it on your dresser, I’m sure one day you’ll know more about it.” And she shrugged as if that day wasn’t coming very soon. 

Percy shrugged in return and went to his room to put the snowglobe on the dresser. A beam of sunlight had broken through the clouds and sparkled in the rain right onto his dresser. The water in the painting looked like it was moving again, and a phantom wind ruffled the fibres on the feather. He put the snowglobe between them carefully, directly in the light of the sun, and a little bit of glitter in the globe shined directly onto his eye. He squinted and bent down to look at it again. There, hidden behind one of the cabins because of the way he had been holding it earlier, was a tiny blue butterfly. It was so small it was easy to miss, but it looked exactly like the butterfly that had come to him. Percy felt his heart begin to race. Surely this was a coincidence. He blinked and rubbed his eyes roughly, then looked down at the snowglobe again. It was still there. The butterfly almost looked like it flapped its wings in the sunlight. No, surely not, this was just another sign that he was going crazy, that there was something really wrong with him. 

Percy shoved the snowglobe behind the painting and walked right back out to find Aunt Sally. She was sitting on the sofa waiting for him, smiling when he came over to her, but quickly her lips drooped into a frown at the look on his face. 

“Hey buddy, what’s wrong?” She asked, pulling him down to sit beside her. 

“Aunt Sally, I seriously think there’s something wrong with me. It’s happening again, it’s exactly like the horse on the rooftop and I-I don’t kno-” 

“Hey. Ok, let’s take a deep breath. Ok, good, one, two, three, four, ok now big release. Alright, good, now, start from the beginning.” She gently cupped his cheek for a moment before folding her hands in her lap and watching his face. 

“I was sitting in the garden at Yancy, I don’t know, I’d had kind of a crummy day, I guess, but then suddenly this butterfly came fluttering to me. Aunt Sally, I have never seen a butterfly like that. It’s like it wasn’t real. It was all shiny and like-like it was glowing? I don’t know, it just didn’t seem like it actually existed. But it came right up to me and landed on my nose. And I thought that was so cool, so I kinda just reached up and touched it. I mean, I didn’t even really touch it, the tip of my finger kinda just brushed it, but then it burst. I don’t even know, it shattered like it was made of glass. And that’s crazy because that’s not possible. Animals don’t shatter like that, nothing real shatters like that and just disappears. It broke into glitter and was all over me! I was trying to brush it off but it-it just wouldn’t come off, and then slowly, it just started to… fade away. Just like that. Ugh, I don’t know Aunt Sally, I seriously think there’s something wrong with me. I mean, it’s not normal to be seeing visions, even I know that.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with you. I believe you,” she added simply, staring at him as if everything he had just said was the most important words to ever have come out of someone’s mouth. 

“What?” Percy tilted his head and looked at her with a frown, as if suddenly she was the crazy one, not him. 

“I believe you. I believe that that happened to you, but we’ll talk about that some other time.” She smiled sadly at him, reaching out to gently brush the hair away from his forehead. Percy scoffed, pulling back from her slightly. 

“What does that even mean? You just said you believed me, we need to talk about it now.” 

“Percy, when the time is right, we’ll talk about it,” Sally sighed, knowing she couldn’t delay this conversation for much longer. She just wanted him to be a kid as long as possible… “But today is your birthday, and we’re supposed to be having fun before you go back to school. So come on,” she clapped her hands and stood up, “there is a bag of blue jelly beans sitting in the kitchen with your name on it!” She sing-songed. 

“But Aunt Sally-” 

“Percy. Some other time.” Her lips were set in a line and her tone left no more room for argument. Sally left him to go to her room to start packing a backpack with stuff they would need for the pool, while Percy made his way to the kitchen and began slowly chewing on blue jelly beans, his mind stuck on the butterfly. 

That night, after a long day of swimming, and a little too much sugar, Sally sat in the middle of little garden they had made on their floor of the fire escape and let the rain douse her. She had already shoved a hungover Gabe into bed and locked the door on him in case he wanted to come back out and make any noise that disturbed Percy, and now, under the rain, she let her thoughts wander to the past thirteen years. 

Life with Percy had been as beautiful and loving as it had been difficult. She had known, from the beginning, that Percy would not be a normal kid. As much as his parents wanted him to be, as much as she wanted it for him, it simply wouldn’t happen. He was too special, the product of two worlds too incomprehensible. 

She remembered all the calls to schools. He couldn’t sit still, he couldn’t learn, he was too ‘disruptive’, too ‘distracted’. Each time it boiled her blood, broke her heart, because he wasn’t even made for this world, but these people had the audacity to reduce this child to what they considered bad things. She remembered all the times he would cry, clinging to her with his little hands wondering why he couldn’t be like the other kids, why he couldn’t focus like other kids or why he couldn’t study like the other kids, why he didn’t have parents like the other kids… 

She remembered the first time she had told little Percy about his dad. How excited he had been to learn that somewhere out there, he did have parents, parents who loved him and wanted to be with him but for some inexplicable reason, couldn’t. She had seen the way he had slowly dismissed that childish hope as he grew up, how he stopped asking about his mom, how he stopped wondering if he looked like his dad. He never asked anymore. 

The day she had used the coin suddenly floated to the front of her mind as she wiped the water from her eyes. She remembered it vividly. It had been a bad day. The baddest of days at that point. Percy was struggling, and she was on edge. There was a storm. It was still the years when she had been scared of storms, when they reminded her of the day Percy was born, the fear in Y/n’s eyes, the pain in Poseidon’s. She had driven them away from yet another school and decided to stop at a diner for lunch. Maybe ice cream would improve Percy’s mood. 

They had eaten in silence, neither of them ready to talk to the other. She had tried to make a few jokes before the food came, hoping to lift Percy’s mood, but he had simply pushed the salt and pepper shakers around the table and mumbled answers to her. After that she had given up on her attempts and sat in silence, staring out of the window and stewing in her own struggles. Maybe this was her breaking point, she thought. Maybe this was the moment when she couldn’t raise Percy anymore. She was struggling, and the last thing she wanted to do was to ruin his life because she couldn’t cope with raising a godly child. What could she do? No one could understand her situation, she couldn’t even talk to anyone about it. Was this the time to send him to camp? Was it the time to let him go, for his sake? Tears had begun to prick at her eyes but she wiped them away as the server had come by. 

They had finished their mains, and she had ordered a sundae for Percy in as excited a voice as she could manage, glad to see a little smile begin to curl at his lips. The server had engaged with him as well, asking him what toppings he wanted and how many ‘extras’ to add before telling the chef he wanted chocolate sauce. She had smiled at the server in thanks before telling Percy to stay put as she got up from the stall and went to the bar to settle the bill. 

At the bar, she asked for a glass of tap water and the bill, and when the bartender had deposited both, she pulled a coin out of her pocket. It was gold, and had tridents embossed on both sides. Even though she’d had it for years now, it hadn’t lost its shine. She brought the cup of water closer to her and flipped the coin over it, watching it twist in the air before falling into the water with a little ‘plonk’. She closed her eyes and whispered two names to herself, over and over and over. A crack of thunder shook through the diner, as if the storm was right overhead. She opened her eyes and stared into the glass of water as the door to the diner opened and someone walked in. The stool beside her was pulled out, and someone settled onto it with a slight creak. The sleeve of their shirt brushed against hers and the smell of salty sea air suddenly seemed to waft around her. She closed her eyes and whispered one of the names again, but nothing changed. Tears pricked at her eyes again, and she stared ahead of her, unable, unwilling, to look at the man that had settled down beside her. 

“This isn’t fair,” she whispered, a tear escaping down her cheek. 

“No, it isn’t,” he replied quietly, his gruff voice comforting and painful at the same time. 

“And I am failing.” She clenched her hands around the cup of water at the uncomfortable truth of it all. More tears slipped out of her eyes now, easier than the first. 

“No, you’re not,” he answered instantly, and still neither of them looked at each other. For all anyone knew, they were strangers sitting beside each other at a bar. Sally closed her eyes and gulped, her eyes fluttering open as breathing became just that little more painful as she tried to keep a handle on herself. 

“I’m going to take him to camp,” she told him, releasing her grip around the glass of water and pushing it forward slightly. 

“Are you sure?” He asked simply, as if it was a casual decision, but she could still hear the gravity in the statement. 

“What choice do I have?” She whispered, “he and I living together in the city…” she paused, taking in a deep breath, “it’s starting to attract attention from your world.” He didn’t say anything, just pressed his lips together and stared at the floor behind the bar with an intensity that would make it crack if he truly wanted it to. “A winged horse followed him to school.” She let the statement settle into the air. “It saw him, he saw it. Sooner or later it’s not gonna be just pretty things that are following him,” she breathed out, shaking her head slightly and looking up to the ceiling as the tears pushed from her eyes again. 

It was so painful to sit here, mere steps from Percy, with the father he couldn’t meet. It was so painful, knowing that soon she would have to let him go, to let him fight his own battles. It was so painful knowing that there were forces much bigger than her little self, controlling everything, and making life so difficult for the beautiful little boy sitting just over there. 

“At camp, he will be safe,” she nodded to herself, taking a sharp breath in and staring at the ceiling, trying to convince herself that this was the best idea. 

“You don’t want him at camp,” he answered simply, as if he could look into her mind and see everything that she was thinking, as if he could look directly at her heart and see the immense amount of love she felt for that child. 

“No,” she breathed out painfully, “no, I don’t,” and she almost began crying with the words, clenching her eyes shut and shaking her head. 

“Tell me why,” he stated as he stared down at the wood of the bar but his attention was fully on her. 

“You don’t wanna know why,” she scoffed lightly, shaking her head and looking to the ceiling again. Then she smiled, a rueful, exasperated little smile as he let out a huff of a chuckle. 

“Probably not. But you have no one to say it to, and maybe that’s the most unfair part of it.” He paused, just for a moment, but her heart began to feel a little lighter somehow. “You say it, and I will listen.” They were silent, sitting together and listening to the quiet sounds of the bar, the clinking of spoons and glasses and plates, the rush of water inside the dishwasher. 

“I want him to know who he is, before your worlds try to tell him who they want him to be,” her voice was forceful, verging on spiteful. “He is better than that, he has better things in him than that.” She was full of conviction, this was a truth she knew better than anything else in the world. Poseidon continued staring at the bar as he spoke. 

“Then you have your answer. He’s going to go to school, and he’s going to learn things you can’t teach him there, and it’s going to be hard for the both of you. And it’s going to be torture for the both of you. But he will be stronger for it on the other side. His aunt raised him well.” And her tears flowed again, as if something in her chest released but brought with it a stabbing pain of everything that could not be. 

“Do you wanna talk to him?” She asked through tears, hoping against all hope that he would say yes. “I know you shouldn’t,” she began, trying to convince him somehow. “Maybe just hear his voice,” she whispered, but there was another crack of thunder in the sky, and Poseidon turned away, listening as if he could hear things she could not. 

“One day,” he simply whispered, and when she looked up to finally meet his eyes, to finally look at him again after so many years, no one was sitting there. 

She sat at the bar for another few minutes, staring into the glass of water as if it had all the answers, but not one reason floated up for the absence of the boy’s mother. 

For thirteen years, you watched your son’s life in snippets. It was like a faulty connection on a tv, darkness one moment, then a flash of Percy smiling as he opened the new mystery present that had been left at his door. A moment of beauty and excitement as you watched him uncover pieces of the world that you and his father had created, the world that led to his being. Then darkness once more, a year of knowing nothing about his life no matter how hard you tried, then Percy crying in Sally’s arms, sobbing about his latest struggles at school, and a pain so sharp in your heart that you almost abandoned secrecy to go to him, then darkness again. You didn’t know why it was like this. Why you didn’t get to watch over him as you so hoped before he was born, why even a distant relationship was stolen from you. You spent days climbing over the roots of Yggdrasil, peering into different worlds and hoping to see Percy living his life. Even if you found a branch that looked into Midgard, you saw only the mountains, with little dots of people climbing up them that left you amused for a moment, or boats on the ocean that made your heart ache desperately for your husband. 

But you didn’t question it much either. Maybe it was his position between the two worlds of gods, the magic of the Fates and the Norns interfering with your powers, the mist cloaking him better than you had hoped. 

You continued with your life as it had been long before you knew of the existence of the Greek Pantheon. You filled your position as a good goddess should, protecting the people from threats bigger than them, refusing to interfere with the machinations of demigods and their quests. You had no way of knowing that this obstruction of your view was unnatural. How would you know that someone else’s designs were at play here? How could you possibly know that your own father was stopping you from hearing the desperate prayers meant for you, the pleas of your dear friend when she felt she could not cope? 

As you sat there beside Odin at the feast table, looking up to your father with reverence as he smiled cheerfully down at you, how were you to know he was actively hiding your son from you?

Taglist: @thicficbich1, @pasta-warlord, @turtleshavesoulmates, @wolfgirl294, @stanswifties, @mrsinclaire, @homanoid, @bellamysnatblida

[thelovelylolly]

Comfort

Summary: you go comfort Loki in the dungeons after Frigga's funeral. Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, mention of death, little argument but its itty bitty, reader is implied to be more fem and has similar abilities to loki, let me know if i missed anything :) Notes: in honor of loki season two coming out this week, here's loki content! i love him so much and this will probably get worse when the show comes out (I MEAN THOSE SHOTS OF HIM IN A SUIT????? YALL) also i wrote this with one of my ocs in mind, so sorry if there are any more specific details than usual :)

Loki watched as you glided down the dungeon stairs, making a gesture to the guards to put them at ease. You stopped in front of his cell, your body and usual outfit concealed by a black, mourning cloak. Loki could see dried tear streaks on your cheeks, but your expression was neutral.

“What are you doing here?” He spat, pacing slowly.

“I’m here to see if you’re okay,” you replied calmly.

Loki scoffed. “You come down here to comfort me instead of fighting against my father’s orders, like you always did, so I could mourn my mother with the rest of Asgard.”

“I did try, but Odin didn’t budge.”

“Well, you didn’t try hard enough.”

A tense moment of silence followed, then you turned to the guards. 

“Please let me into the prince’s cell,” you ordered in a calm voice.

The guards quickly obeyed and you stepped in, the cell closing you in with Loki. Then, you used your magic to shield the both of you from the rest of the world, casting an illusion to everyone outside the cell and sound proofing it.

“I know you’re frustrated-“

“Frustration can’t begin to describe what I’m feeling!” He exclaimed, causing you to flinch at his tone, but you quickly regained your composure.

“But you did this to yourself, Loki! You weren’t able to go to Frigga’s funeral because of your decisions and the consequences of them!” You paused to take a deep breath. “I was there when she died. I tried to defend her, but they were stronger than I am. I wish…I wish I took that blade instead of her, but I can’t change that, just like how I can’t change what you did and your punishment.”

Loki’s cold gaze softened a bit, his jaw clenching as he turned his back to you. “You don’t understand any of this, darling.”

“Maybe you forget that she was the closest thing I had to a mother. She is the reason I met you, that I allowed myself to fall for you. It’s because of her that we were allowed to court, Loki. I do understand this, I understand you.”

Loki didn’t answer, allowing you to keep going.

“The first night you spent down here, I went to Frigga. I needed to talk to someone about you, about my feelings, and I knew she would be there for me. After I talked things out, she told me she had hope for you. She wanted you to be better, and she wanted to free you from here as soon as she thought you had learned your lesson. She loved you, she wanted you and I to run away from Asgard to live our lives peacefully and happily. She…she wanted us to be married and start a family like we dreamed about. She wanted you, her son, to be happy.”

You saw Loki’s shoulders start to tremble as soft sobs escaped his lips. He quickly crumbled to the ground, his hands covering his face as he broke down into sobs. You quickly went around him and crouched in front of him, your cloak pooling around you two. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he hid his face in your shoulder, soaking the fabric of your cloak with his tears.

You held him tightly, running a hand through his hair comfortingly. You felt tears of your own start to form, but you blinked them away quickly. You had cried enough, now you needed to comfort your love.

After a few minutes like that, Loki pulled his face away and met your gaze. You cupped his cheeks and wiped away any stray tears. The sight of his bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks broke your heart.

“I love you, Loki,” you whispered softly, your voice shaking with emotion.

“I love you, too,” he replied just as quietly.

His hands fell to your waist, holding you close as he pressed his forehead to yours. You didn’t kiss, neither of you wanted to. You just wanted this. The quiet, the closeness, the vulnerability. Loki was scared to show this much emotion to you, even though you two were in love. He didn’t want to burden you or make you think he was weak. Maybe he did regret what he did, but only because he nearly lost you.

“Loki…” You said softly, trailing off as you slowly pulled away from him.

“I know,” he replied, letting you go.

You stood up and walked past Loki, who was still on his knees on the floor.

You stopped, looking over your shoulder. “My illusion will last for at least another hour. I will be back tomorrow.”

With that, you left the cell. Loki watched as you glided up the stairs, your cloak trailing behind as you disappeared and left him alone once again.

[micah-drew]

Record of Ragnarok: How Many…

—

How many shots will it takes for me to hookup with the ROR characters? Let’s find out!

Einherjar

Lü Bu: A GOOD…SIX I THINK? I don’t have much reasoning other than I’m pretty sure he bites

Adam: none, because it’s not happening!

Kojiro Sasaki: Uhh, 7?? grandpa doesn’t need to break a hip today

Jack The Ripper: I think 7 again? It just makes sense to me

Raiden Tamemoon: 3 for confidence, praying he doesn’t crush me

Buddha: pass, sorry

Qin Shi Huang: 2 for confidence, yeah

Nikola Tesla: 1 for confidence HE IS SO FINE OH MY LO

Leonidas: 3 for confidence because oh my lord, WHAT A MAN

Soji Okita: pass

Michel Nostradamus: blackout. deadass I need to be fully blackout for a CHANCE

Sakata Kintoki: pass, again

Simo Häyhä: probably not gonna hookup, but I’ll give him a little kiss on the cheek!

Gods

Thor: I THINK 7…NOT GONNA LIE IM A LITTLE INTIMIDATED..

Zeus: PASS. NOT HAPPENING N

Poseidon: probably 7, I feel like he’d insult me the whole time for taking so much shots but iTS FINEEE

Heracles: 2, for confidence. he’s like a teddy bear I think

Shiva: UHH…7, yeah 7 seems good

Hajun: pass.

Hades: 3 for confidence, thank you and we move on

Beelzebub: I love him, but probably 9 or close to blackout I’m gonna be fully honest

Apollo: 2 for confidence, why is everyone in this round so fine

Loki: PASS.

Hermes: I think 4?? yeah 4 seems good

Ares: pass, sorry bestie

Adamas: pass

Odin: IMMEDIATE PASS THIS GREASY MOTHERF

Aphrodite: 2 for confidence

Valkyries

Randgriz: I think 2 is good personally, no reason other than I’m shy

Reginleif: pass

Hrist: SOBER. FULLY SOBER OH MY LORD

Thrud: 1 for confidence! I like when tall women…

Göndul: 1 for confidence, again. can we kiss now

Geirölul: …fully sober or 1 for confidence, because oh my GOD WHAT A WOMAN PLEASE I AM ON MY KN- *coughs* sorry the demons won uh

Brunhilde: 3 for confidence

—

Why did I do this instead of actually writing? I don’t know

Anyways Geirölul supremacy—

[whyareyouhere66]

Omg cool I have an angsty request 😈(if you’re comfortable writing it<3)

Kind of Tom!Peter Parker x Male!Stark!reader x Tony Stark(platonic obviously) ??

Reader has a rocky relationship with his dad Tony, just wants his attention, to be seen by Tony etc. but once Peter joins and takes Tonys full attention reader just automatically hates him for ‘stealing his dad from him’. As time goes on reader just gets more hateful and jealous of Peter, maybe getting into fights with Peter on purpose. Suddenly there’s a new villain/anti-hero (??) that’s been interfering with there plans or just wrecking havoc to go after Peter. Plot twist when they finally catch them/they’re too hurt to keep fighting, it’s revealed as reader. You can make it as angsty as u want!

(A.K.A. Reader is Loki, Peter is Thor and Tony is Odin lol)

 AHH THIS

I love this trope-

So glad you requested this, (and thank you for checking stuff first) and enjoy

Also note that I’m not too fresh on the marvel timeline, if you notice anything that doesn’t exactly align with the movie than I’m sorry just brush past it- this also might be the longest fic I’ve ever written so 

Implied to be set around the start of Peter’s Spider-Man stuff. 

x

Look What You Made Me Do

Male Stark Reader x Avengers

“If I loved you, was a promise….

Would you break it, if you’re honest?” 

[idontwannabeyouanymore, Billie Eillish, 2017]

Cw: violence/fighting, Tony being a bad dad, slightest mentions of drinking, angst Kind of jumping straight into it too- 

I’ll fix a few things later I’m tired I want this one to be out and about

Named after a Taylor song, starting with a Billie lyric 💪💪 

If you were to ask anyone about the wealthiest men in modern day New York, it’s inevitable for Tony Stark to appear somewhere on that list.

He’s rich, handsome, a superhero. New  York’s knight in shining armor. 

Most believe his life is a dream, somehow oblivious to the fact that maybe a superhero doesn’t live life in the dream house. But when he’s made his brand through money, fancy houses, big parties, and shiny military weapons it’s easy for people to see no further than surface level.

That isn’t the case for his son, though. 

From a wealth aspect of it- the young Stark knows how grateful he is, how grateful he should be, for his father.

If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t be currently sitting in this large bedroom, with a view most would pay a couple grand for, wouldn’t be surrounded by the various expensive objects linked to his little interests. It doesn’t even matter how much Y/n would insist on paying- he never seems to think much of it. Maybe it’s his way of showing affection.

That’s what Y/n hopes, at least. 

Because if not- there’s not much there. Tony Stark has never been much of an affectionate person, some may blame it on his own father. Others would blame it on the business- no time for distractions on a long days work.

But neither of those reasons matter- for all his son ever wanted is for Tony to love him the way he wants him to.

-

Static crackles through Y/n’s small speaker, and quickly the boy perks up. A short glance  over and he finds the old Queen record spinning aimlessly, with the tone arm at the end of its songs.

Pushing himself off the bed, he walks over to the stand where Tony’s old record player sits. Taking the arm off- he flips the record over to side b, before returning it to its place. 

The intro of Queen’s “Hammer to Fall” begins ringing from the speaker, and a small, satisfied smile grows on Y/n’s face.

He hums the beat, nodding his head with it while turning back to his bed- but something catches his eye.

Outside, there’s two figures standing out front. One eyebrow raises, Y/n slowly steps closer to the window. 

“Who-?”

Recognizing his dad, dressed in his best suit, Y/n leans closer. The other figure isn’t quite as tall as Tony, and looks quite obviously nervous. 

Y/n furrows his eyebrows. 

….That’s Peter Parker.

What the hell is he doing at Stark’s house?

***

The sound of a backpack falling to the ground echoes through the foyer- and immediately it’s a sigh of relief. The sweet, sweet air conditioning here is heavenly in contrast to the one at school.

Y/n faintly feels a vibration in his pocket- grabbing it only to see multiple notifications coming from a group chat. 

‘What are they on…’ he wonders, scrolling through countless messages worth of nonsense. He goes to reply, when-

“Y/n!”

His head snaps up at the voice, echoing out from the couch.

‘didn’t realize he was home…’ he looks back at the window, finding his father’s car parked in the driveway. 

“Oh.” 

Deciding the group chat can wait, the teen wanders to where his father sits. 

“What’s up?” Immediately Y/n sees the  scattered papers piling on top of one another on the coffee table, the short crystal glass filled halfway with rum. You’d think he’d wait until at least five, but that’s not the Stark way.

“I found a uh, form on the coffee table,” his voice sounds bored, tired, “something about textbooks for school?”

Y/n notices the forms sitting at the edge farthest from Tony, as if they’d been pushed away as far as they could go. 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He says awkwardly, looking at the dirty laces of his shoes, “it’s fine, I got it.” 

“Well I can pay for them, if that’s what you’d like.” The eldest Stark shrugs, finally looking at his son from over the rim of his glasses.

Y/n almost feels embarrassed- when had he asked for that? He shakes his head, though it doesn’t hide the surprised look on his face.

“No, no you don’t have to-“

“Oh please, I got it, education is our future or something, right?” Tony shrugs, taking off his glasses and beginning to stand up from his chair, headed for the black leather wallet he’d left on the dining table. 

Y/n isn’t quite sure why he’s now rushing to step in front of his dad- there isn’t much harm in the gesture after all. Maybe he just doesn’t want the weight of depending on his father for everything to lay on his shoulders. Either way, excuses are already falling from his mouth.

“You really don’t have to, dad-“

“You’re acting like I’m handing you the presidents treasury,” Tony deadpans, “besides, you don’t have a job.”

Y/n pauses. 

“Wha- yes, I do-“ does his dad really not know about his job?

“Look, it doesn’t matter, I can get them used anyways-“

Before he can take one step closer, a nervous voice quips up from the doorway and ends the race for the wallet.

“Um, Mr. Stark?”

Curiously, Y/n and his dad snap their heads to see who has just joined them.

“Peter-?”

Peter Parker stands in the large door way, curled into himself with his backpack strap folded between his fist. His eyes are wide and questioning, looking between his classmate and his idol as if he had walked into the wrong room. 

Suddenly, Tony’s shoulders drop- and he’s no longer interested in any textbook or wallet. 

“Ah, Parker, didn’t think you’d make it.” He says bluntly, strutting away from his son and towards the obviously nervous boy. 

“Here, sit down kid.”

With the man’s hand pressed into his shoulder blade, Peter has no choice but to follow him towards the various seats lining the dining table. And from the side- Y/n watches, absolutely lost.

After he had seen his father and Peter talking, he kept it to himself. Knowing the boy, he had simply assumed Peter was asking for an autograph or a picture, just like half of the city. 

But now, he is in his house. At his table. 

What the hell is this?

“Um,” Y/n’s voice sounds blunt, almost too similar to his father- who’s already sitting down across from Peter with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised, as if this was a press conference. 

Peter looks at him first, while his father throws a glance over his shoulder. 

“What’s this?” Y/n asks, pointing to the strange teenage boy sitting down in his seat. Tony tiredly leans back in the chair, twisting to the side just slightly so he could look at Y/n head on. 

“Y/n, this is Peter, Peter, this is Y/n.” 

“Uh, yeah, we know each other.” Peter pipes up, giving Y/n the shortest, most awkward smile it seems he could muster. Y/n’s face stays blank.

“Yeah, I meant what is he doing here?”

Tony doesn’t seem at all phased by the rude undertones of Y/n’s question.

“Peter is gonna work as my intern for a little while, I’m training him.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow. 

“For what-“

“Hey, quit interrupting, will you?” Tony dismisses him with the wave of his hand, turning around so he’s fully facing Peter. And Y/n lingers there, processing. He doesn’t like feeling like a shadow, not in his own home especially, but that’s the feeling that begins to overtake him.

Intern…? 

He tries understanding what that means- there’s many possibilities. Assistant, maybe. But when he looks between his dad and his classmate one last time, seeing that he’s been nearly forgotten in the room (aside from the short glances from Peter’s end) he turns around to retreat, fists clenched. 

His dad has had interns before, Peter likely won’t be much different. Possibly.

***

It’s been 5 weeks.

And multiple times, for each of those weeks, Peter has been somewhere mixed into the tangle of Tony Stark’s extensive schedule, far more entangled than Y/n has been for the past few years.

He shows up to dinner, trains at the Avenger’s tower. He comes knocking on the door randomly asking for life advice, or something- he’s everywhere.

It wasn’t even until week 4 that Y/n discovered the truth behind his sudden presence, when he saw the suit for the first time.

He has his own suit, god can you believe it?

Y/n watches on as Tony seems to easily bring Peter under his wing- hating how he has to avoid the burning green envy that burns his ears. How has Tony managed to take on the father figure role to Peter, when he barely manages that role with his own son?

‘It shouldn’t hurt this bad,’ y/n will think to himself, ‘you’re independent, relying on him will only make it harder in the long run.’

But he couldn’t help the hardened glare that arose every time he saw his dad, his own dad, bonding with someone else the way he had been wanting for what- 16 years?

Even now, sitting at the table, while the teen stares into the bowl of cereal in front of him, it’s just so irking to think about. 

His spoon scrapes the edges of the bowl, gathering the now soggy cheerios into a cluster in its silver dip. Then, they get lost in his mouth. Rinse and repeat- he does it over and over while staring a blazing hole into the wall. 

What is Peter doing that he can’t?

“Mr. Stark-“ 

Speak of the devil. 

Y/n’s grip on the spoon tightens.

Peter comes stumbling into the room, out of breathe as if he sprinted all the way here. He doesn’t even knock anymore, Y/n thinks, he’s made himself at home.

“Kid? What’re you doing here?” 

The nickname sends a shivering twitch through Y/n’s already sore muscles, tugging his face so he can’t control the annoyed look that comes through. 

They’re talking to each other now, Peter trying to tell a story far too quickly for either of them to follow. Y/n blocks their voices out.

His chair scrapes against the floor, and he grabs his bag to leave. 

“I’m going to school.” He says loudly, cutting off their conversation. 

“Oh, I guess I gotta go too-“ 

“No,” Peter freezes, looking at Y/n curiously, “no, no stay here longer why don’t you? Practically your house.” Venom leaks from his words, the sarcasm so loud it makes Peter flinch. 

“Y/n,” Tony groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. Y/n’s stare only hardens.

“What?” He snaps, now looking at his father. 

“Really?” Is all that Tony manages, before Y/n is rolling his eyes and spinning on his heel.

“(F/n) is waiting for me.” He grumbles, snatching his phone and stomping out of the room. 

How does his dad not get it? Is he so blind he can’t even see his own blatant favoritism? 

The look of exhaustion displayed on his face would make you think hes working day and night having to put up with Y/n’s attitude- yet he’s unaware he’s exactly what’s causing it. 

Y/n doesn’t want to blame Peter, in the back of his mind he knows that it’s his dad’s fault. But it feels like his father is being stolen.

But can it really be theft if there wasn’t much of him in the first place?

Y/n knows that he’s picking all the fights, starting all the arguments just so that twisted part of his head gets some satisfaction. 

It shouldn’t be working so well.

.

The young Stark doesn’t return home until it’s just about dark outside, his backpack hanging loosely off his shoulders. 

He walks the long halls of his home, past the doors that could either be a guest bathroom or a weapon closet. Even if there’s more entryways than doors, his father opting for large empty frames, he walks the length of it with no specific destination in mind. 

He isn’t too sure where he’s headed anyways, considering he’s passed the way to his bedroom already.

Through half lidded eyes he guides himself through this maze of a house, bitter jealousy bubbling in his lungs. It’s such a haunting thought, a looming presence, and he wishes he could push it down the drain but it seems that he can’t. 

“Stupid, stupid Peter…” he mumbles, hand grazing the wall beside him. 

Ned’s voice still rings in his ears, breathy from how he had been exercising for most of the class.

“You don’t know what he looks like- what if he’s like seriously burnt?”

“I wouldn’t care, I would still love him for the person he is on the inside.”

Of course it caught their attention- Peter’s little crush on Liz wasn’t hard for most to notice. 

“Peter knows Spider-Man!”

How horrible. 

Across the room, Y/n’s head snapped to where the pair was on the gym floor- Peter’s jaw slacked. It didn’t matter how much he tried to quickly say otherwise- Flash already had slid down the climbing rope with another remark slick on the edge of his tongue.

And Y/n watched on, eye twitching, feeling how his  friends slapped his arm in amusement. 

“I can’t tell if he’s for real or not-“ F/n mumbled from next to him. Y/n’s eyes never tore away from the scene playing out ahead, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah,” and his eyes squeezed shut, “me neither.”

Y/n’s fists curl together, knuckles scraping the wall for a moment before he’s pulling away.

It’s so frustrating. 

He’s walking further down the corridor, eyes sliding open just in time to catch a door left slightly ajar- and he pauses.

He’s passed the door many times, no doubt, but this time it’s different. There’s something pulling him inside, an unknown source that’s too intriguing to walk past.

Slowly, he pushes open the door. And there it is.

Old bins and cabinets with junk gadgets shoved inside- worn blueprints from his fathers old work. One eyebrow raises, cogs turning and grinding in his head.

There’s some things still in tact, some that have been broken apart and scattered about. Y/n kneels down to observe closer. 

He feels the smooth surface of a metal clasp against his fingertips, grazing the jumbled objects. 

This is his answer.

The backpack slides off his shoulders, thumping on the ground beside him. This room is one that his father doesn’t visit much anymore, now much more caught up in other things such as the Avengers, Peter, the scattered piles of paperwork that seem to constantly consume him.

And in the corner, there’s a bend in the wall partially hidden by a cabinet- if you were to tuck something inside, no one could see from the door frame.

Y/n already feels his mind blooming with ideas as he skims over the various parts and pieces in front of him.

If he can’t live up to his fathers standards, his fathers name, 

then he’ll make his own.

***

Multiple nights pass, weeks go by and Y/n finds himself spending the time after dinner until midnight cooped up in Tony’s old gear room. 

He likes to think it’s a family trait, something tying him to the Stark name, also known as his skill for parts. He can take a few glances at both his own notes as well as the old blueprints and suddenly have the necessary concept for a retractable weapon, built to strike out of an arm piece. And when he’s done, he simply drags it all into his tucked in corner- hidden until night falls again the next day. 

Time not spent at school, occasionally in his room, or in his new lab- is now spent taking full advantage of the gym on the higher floors. 

The Avengers don’t question it, barely even using it at the same time as him anyways. He’s planned it so no one is around to see the training he does, the work put in to not only muscle- but also skill.

He doesn’t have a vigilante name just yet- but perhaps that’s the fun in it. He’s totally anonymous.

And as the firm punching bag jerks beneath his incoming fist, he feels the creeping joy of power.

Y/n puts lots of thought into the first strike against the city- building an elaborate yet somewhat reckless attack plan, a formula. 

No citizen will get hurt- it’s only the churning, growing need for revenge he wants so badly to be satisfied. Among the jumbled emotions, and new discoveries, he knows what he wants, and he knows just who he wants to be.

Y/n Stark may never be the millionaire superhero his father is- but he will be something. Something that no one will ever expect.

***

“A new vigilante seems to be on the loose, unidentified. They’ve struck many times already, but police have noticed that, interestingly enough, among the pattern of crime scenes none of the main public areas or citizens have been hit. Could this be the work of an Anti-hero, perhaps? Down at the Avengers Tow-“ 

The anchorman’s voice is cut off, mid sentence, and Tony holds the remote firmly. 

Around him, on the expensive couches sit the Avengers themselves, but their faces are dulled by distress, their knuckles tense from a firm grip. 

“We gotta find this guy,” Bruce sighs, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. Beside him, Natasha agrees.

“If we don’t catch them soon, people will start doubting us.” She says it like it’s so simple, lips pressed into a thin line. Steve groans.

“They aren’t gonna start doubting us-“ he tries, but no one seems to believe him. 

“Oh really? Sounds like you’ve got some superstar solution then, huh?” Tony, always packed full of sarcasm, looks absolutely exasperated. He’s been looking tirelessly for this new ‘vigilante’ of the sorts - they don’t even seem to have a name. They work quickly and precisely, yet go at it with a powerful vengeance. Their skill- it’s almost something he wants to respect. 

The group begins to speak again, switching between civil turn taking and overlapping words. They don’t even notice the figure standing by the door. 

Y/n peaks his head around the door frame, watching these strong, powerful superheroes stressing over him. Oh, they just have no clue.

As they’re still talking, planning unknowingly within earshot of their own enemy- Y/n takes his notes. He listens, until finally he slips past the door and walks quietly down the hall as the sick, strong feeling of triumph sinks into his stomach. 

He’s got them.

***

The rumbling fill of chaos echoes from all around- machines jittering, codes breaking, and a light flickers down the hall.

Y/n stands at the center of the room, looking around at one of his father’s many warehouses from all around- this one being stationed north of his own home state- Maine, USA.

His dad brought him here only a few times as a kid, once or twice perhaps. He always hated it- still does, actually, hence the small bombs scattered across the place. 

It would be funny, to think that not even the Avengers have caught on to his pattern- but that may be jinxing it. Plus, he knows the common traits of each area he’s hit so far, the places holding the unjust power. This stop, though, he’s been waiting to finally hit.

“Stark Enterprises” - a sign once strung together in big letters, now laying at Y/n’s feet broken into pieces. The boy crouches down, picking up a chunk from the “E” and crushes it in his hands. 

Under his mask, he grins. 

His suit, not quite as advanced as those made by his father, fits him well. The sleeves are tighter, snugly wrapped around his biceps with streaks of purple running through the black material. Padding, like thin layers of armor, protect his torso and the pants are the most loose- cargo, with big pockets.

A mask is what pulls the whole thing together, though, concealing the entirety of his head underneath its black and purple coloring. 

Littering his hands, and even weaved into the material all across, are the gadgets he’s spent so many hours on. Rings sealed into the gloves have enough sharp metal twisted together inside that when activated, spread into blades. In the pocket around his waist band- is a button, the button, that with one push turns this warehouse into a cloud of orange and yellow. 

Y/n is still watching the crumbling sign fall from his palm, like grains of sand, when the door caves in behind him. 

“Put your hands up, tough guy, we caught you.”

Captain America, confident as ever, bursts in at the front of the group with his shield held high. Behind him, Tony, Peter, Natasha and even Bruce waltz right in after him. For a second- a glimmer of pride washes through Y/n’s body, they brought 5 to a fight against 1- he must be special.

“Yeah, times up buddy.”

Seeing his father, dressed in the famous Ironman suit, reminds Y/n of the whole reason this started- and another twisted feeling knots itself in his stomach.

The moment he’s been waiting for.

They can’t see him as he smirks underneath the mask, deciding to toy with them just a bit. He doesn’t speak- no one’s heard his voice when spoken through the filtered material yet. It seems they’ll be the first.

Y/n’s head cocks to the side, and raises an eyebrow- something the Avengers can see through the imprint of his mask. A challenge. 

Bruce’s battle cry cuts through the air- and suddenly the Hulk is charging. It startles Y/n for a moment, but quickly he steps to the side and lets the green giant crush the ground beside him. As Hulk gets back up, snarling and growling, Y/n is already grabbing a long beam, bent from where it fell with the rest of the Stark Enterprise’s sign, and strikes Hulk right in the gut.

The giant man stumbles slightly, yet still stomps forward. But Y/n isn’t in front of him.

“Hulk!” Natasha yells out, watching from across the room as Y/n comes from behind, mid air, wielding the same beam from before. Hulk is barely able to tilt his head an inch before the metal is crashing down into the area just below his head, and bruising his neck. 

He’s out within a few seconds, stumbling around clumsily while black dots tease his vision. Then, he falls to the floor.

“Well shit.” Steve mutters, bending his knees like a bull preparing to charge. He should’ve known sending in Hulk with no preparations would be a bad an idea.

“Sending the big one in first, huh?” Y/n looks at them cockily, “do you see me as a threat, Ironman?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, “oh look at that, he can talk.”  He doesn’t even skip a beat as his suit begins to whir, the arm unfolding so a mini blaster pokes out from the forearm. 

The vigilante barely has time to react as strings of energy are thrown his way, jumping and dodging each of them narrowly. Tony doesn’t wait for him to regain his footing though, flying straight towards his figure.

Steve eyes Natasha, gesturing for her to move. The woman obliges, creeping around the fight so Y/n’s back is in front of her. 

Ironman grabs Y/n by the shoulders, pushing down with such strong force that the latter is forced back a few steps. He holds the metal sleeves with a firm grip, and at first Tony doesn’t notice as the boy’s rings begin to scrape against the surface. Sparks fly like the touch of a welding torch, grazing the edges of Tony’s mask just in time for him to realize mini blades are beginning to prod at his suit. Y/n doesn’t hesitate to take the opportunity and shove the man away from him. 

Natasha watches closely, seeing how Y/n stumbles from the impact. She jumps at him.

Y/n extends his arm in her direction, not even turning all the way around, and his rings grow from small blades to a sharp spiral of metal pointing right at Black Widow’s chest.

She freezes, he smirks.

Of course, it’s not his intention for someone to die. That’s not what he does. This, well, is simply defense.

“How about we get right to the point.” He says, slipping his free hand into one of the pouches around his waist band. Out with it comes a cylinder- black and sleek with some sort of dial built in, a bright red button on top. 

Steve feels his stomach drop. 

“Pick a number.”

Tony, seemingly unaware of the detonator to have just been introduced, rolls his eyes, he’s growing impatient. 

“Alright, fine, 5- you wanna quit it with the games now?”

Big mistake.

Without skipping a step, Y/n is scrolling through digits on the small screen built into the detonator. It’s almost too quick for any of the Avengers to realize what he’s doing- and it’s far too late by the time they do. 

“Alright, then.” Y/n presses the button.

Steve goes to lunge forward, tries to make a grab for the device, but he waited too long. The whole room rattles, and the section just to the left of them suddenly bursts. Bombs. 

Y/n watches with a special glint in his covered eyes as everyone stumbles, yet his feet stay firmly planted in the ground. They’re startled, bits of the wall flying around and clattering against the floor. Peter snaps his head towards Y/n in shock.

“Who’s next?”

“Oh my god.” Peter mumbles, wide eyed. It’s the sound of his voice, his first time saying a word, that catches Y/n’s attention right away.

His teeth grind together, thumb smoothing over the button’s smooth surface. His mind mumbles, Do it again.

Staring into the large white panels of Peter’s mask, his guard is left fallen for just a moment too long. Tony sends one more blast his way. 

A jolt of pain seers through Y/n’s thigh. The energy was strong enough to surpass the material of his pants, leaving a heavy ache in the area. Y/n glares.

“You asshole,” he grunts, spinning the dial with his thumb before slamming down the button.

Above them, part of the ceiling crumbles.

Bits of concrete come tumbling down, Peter and Natasha diving for cover. But Y/n is no where near finished.

“How many bombs are there-“ Peter asks to no one in particular. His question is soon to be answered.

“Let’s not wait to find out,” Steve grunts, sprinting to where his opponent stands at the opposite side of the room. Y/n feels the previous feeling of confidence, the smooth and cocky facade, slipping away. He wants to win.

Each of Captain America’s hits clang against metal couplets clasped to Y/n’s wrist- chaos ensues around them. Tony firing shots, Peter surrounding the fight, Natasha running for a hit at close combat- and hulk just starting to stir from his little nap. 

But Y/n doesn’t let up- not until it’s too late.

A fiery blaze heads straight for him, straight for his face. It’s beginning to sizzle against his ears, he can feel it coming. But he doesn’t react in time, trying to defend himself from too many things at once. 

The blast, coming from his own father’s hand, hits him.

His mask begins to spark, edges curling into themselves as slowly, Y/n feels the right side of his face being revealed. 

His hand meets the wall, holding him up as he recovers from the impact. They haven’t seen him yet. 

He hears Steve’s heavy breathing from behind him, something so familiar it almost tricks his mind. Then, Tony’s voice.

“It only takes a few hits, huh? If I knew that’s all it took I wouldn’t have wasted so much time.”

More sarcasm, Y/n almost laughs.

“Who are you.” Natasha doesn’t even make it sound like a question, her voice strong and firm. 

Silence ensues, just for a moment, Y/n’s head is swimming. 

Yet, over all the thoughts and noise, one thing screams loudest over the rest. 

“Do. It.”

“Don’t you recognize me?” Y/n’s voice, no longer protected by a filter, is raspy and hoarse. He slowly turns around, head peaking out of the shadows.

“You know me already…”

.

.

Holy shit.

A loud clang echoes through the now dead silent room, the red white and silver shield rolling across the floor. 

“…Y/n?” 

Tony’s helmet folds into itself, revealing a sweaty face with wide eyes and a slack jaw. 

A bitter smile is what he receives.

“Dad.”

Tony looks around, dumbfounded. 

“I-“ he stutters, nearly speechless, “what- what the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Y/n steps forward, voice dry yet dripping with venom. 

Tony chokes, “being an absolute moron, that’s what-“

Y/n barks out a rough, quick laugh. “Ooh, rough.” He rasps. Steve steps forward, putting a hand onto Tony’s shoulder and pulling him back. It’s like a warning, silent communication because next, he’s the one to step forward.

“Y/n…” the words die on the tip of his tongue, throat running dry, but he still tries, “what- I mean, why?”

Y/n has begun to pace slightly, taking slow steps around the shocked group. He peels the mask away from his face.

“Yknow, most people tend to turn to the worst of their options when in a dark time,” he says smoothly, feeling each and every set of eyes watching while he walks. Hulk watches through blurred vision, completely disoriented. 

“I mean, hate to give you the classic origin story and everything, but…” 

“Hold on,” the thoughts are almost visible, loud and heavy in Tony’s head, “is this about something I did?”

So he’s finally getting it.

“What could Tony have possibly done?” Asks Natasha, and Y/n looks at his father directly.

“You don’t care, ok, that’s what-“ his voice is breathy, and he scowls, “You can’t even talk to your own kid, Stark. It’s like you don’t realize what I am, to you- what you are to me!” Anger rises with each word that shoots like poison from Y/n’s mouth. 

Tony gets defensive, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s not true, I know damn well you’re my kid-“

“Oh really? Cause you seem to have it a bit mixed up.” Y/n’s eyes flicker to Peter’s frame, and everyone tenses.

“Is…is this about Peter?”

At the mention of his name, Peter tears off his mask, a concerned, heavy look on his face. 

“I, Y/n it’s not like that-“ he tries, only to be interrupted.

“Yknow,” Y/n’s voice sounds so pained, “I always thought maybe you aren’t too upfront with your affection. For years, ok, I would wake up, go to school, come back, and go to bed all without saying more than a few words to you. Years, dad.” A lump is forming in his throat, but it’s too late to turn back now. “But then, out of nowhere, someone else comes into the picture and suddenly you’re taking him to lunch, you’re picking him up from school, basically spending way more time with him, than with me.”

Bold, bitter, and wavering- Y/n doesn’t stop. Even as his father, his classmate, the people he’d grown up with thinking were like family, just watch with feeling burning in their eyes. 

“Y/n,”

“You made it look so easy with him.”

“Hey, kid, c’mon-“

“Are you serious?!” Y/n yells in disbelief. “Are you gonna tell me I’m wrong? Is that it? I’m just exaggerating, or what-“

Tony straightens his posture, swallowing hard. 

Y/n’s face almost crumbles from the way his fathers face wavers. But he just doesn’t stop. 

“You can be the greatest hero in the world,” Y/n breathes, sweat sparkling around the frame of his face, “you can put on a face for the interviews, and train Peter to perfection,” a step closer, “but don’t forget that I’ve always been here too.” 

Y/n’s voice sounds so dark, unfamiliar and breaking, it’s gone raspy from the pounding drum of his heart beat. 

Ringing silence once more. 6 melting souls standing in the waste of their own troubles. 

Y/n feels budding tears threatening to spill.

“And now look what we’ve done.” 

[wheredafandomat]

The Royal Ruse 👑

Prince! Loki x Asgardian reader

18+ | this fic contains angst, eventual smut, probably some bad language, little bit of a slow burn?

Chapter 1 Next

“Well then I’ll marry.” Loki declared, almost triumphantly as if he had just solved the biggest problem known to the kingdom of Asgard.

“Loki, you can’t be serious.”

“I am” he insisted, pausing his pacing “if marriage is what it takes to get the throne then I am to wed.” Loki stated.

“And who will you marry?”

“There are a few ladies in which I am courting, I’ll simply marry one of them and then take my rightful title as King of Asgard.” He began to grin.

“And who’s to say any of these maidens will agree to marry you?”

“The promise of a throne” Loki shrugged as if the answer was simple and obvious “I myself wouldn’t even turn that down and I’m already a prince” he scoffed “I’m sure any of them would be delighted to marry me. They could even been Queen consort for a few decades and then perhaps they’ll get bored and then leave or if not, perhaps an accident befalls them and—”

“Loki!” He was cut off.

“Remind me, why am I even talking to you.” Loki sighed, annoyed by the interruption.

“Because I’m the only person you trust.”

“That’s right.” Loki agreed, turning towards the clone of himself he had deployed to reason with.

“What you need to do is find someone who will be willing to pretend to be in love with you up until a wedding occurs where they will then disappear leaving you crowned King of Asgard.” It plotted.

“You’re right” Loki smiled “I’ll find some sort of hopeless maiden and promise her some golden coins or something in return for her hand in marriage.” Loki declared.

The following day, Loki decided to go on a walk to clear his head. Like most walks, this one consisted of visiting the more lowly parts of Asgard where the peasants and working folk resided meaning hearty mead and the occasional leg up in the back of the brewery. Loki often imagined the look on his fathers face if he ever discovered that he frequented such a dingy place, risking the integrity of the palace and all its occupants; it made the whole clandestine visit that more appealing, that more desired. He walked through one of the alleyways, picturing Odin’s face before he felt a weight crash against his chest followed by a yelp.

“Watch where you’re going.” He instantly spoke, assuming the figure standing to their feet was a drunkard.

“Likewise.” You scoffed, pushing his steadying hand on your forearm away. Once you were on your feet, firmly rooted onto the ground, you looked up at your attacker, narrowing your gaze. “I feel like I’m supposed to know who you are.” You challenged suspiciously.

“I guess I just have one of those faces.” Loki excused.

“No” you began, grabbing his chin as you inspected him “you look familiar, really familiar.” You continued, the man pulling away from your touch.

“Unhand me deprived wench.” He scorned, stepping backwards causing you to gasp as it hit you.

“You’re the pri—”

“Shhh.” He silenced you, covering your mouth with his hand. “You know not what you speak of. Why would a prince be somewhere as unpleasant as here?” He queried.

“You know, Thor sometimes comes here.” You replied.

“He does?”

“Yes.” You nodded.

“Well I’ll be sure to—”

“Ha!” You beamed “you are Loki.”

“Fine” he relented “but don’t breathe a word of my being here to anyone.” He warned menacingly.

“Okay.” You shrugged just as Loki began reaching into his pocket. “A-are you trying to buy my silence?” You asked, watching him rummaging through his pocket.

“Yes, how much will it cost?” He asked.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone, besides, who’d believe me, I’m just a deprived wench.” You huffed.

“Sorry.” Loki apologised.

“Anyways, I’m just on my way home so if you’d excuse me.” You dismissed.

“Of course.” Loki spoke, moving out of your way, his eyes rounding when he realised you were going into the little door that was behind him. “This is where you live?” He questioned almost aghast.

“No, there’s a magical portal inside that transports me to one of the rooms in the palace” you answered sarcastically “yes, this is where I live.”

“It’s tiny.” Loki noted, stepping towards the door and looking inside.

“You’re insulting me again.” You remarked.

“Sorry.” He apologised again.

“I would offer you something to eat but no.” You decided, walking further inside and leaving the door open.

“No?” Loki spoke, raising an eyebrow as he cautiously took your nonverbal invitation and stepped inside.

“No.” You nodded.

“No what?” He replied, recognising the pictures in the callander on your wall; they were all of the palace.

“No, I don’t want to offer you something to eat.” You explained.

“Well I’m not hungry.” Loki argued.

“Good, because I wasn’t offering.” You replied.

“Fine.”

“Fine.” You finished, Loki unmoving as he subtly glanced around your place, eyes lingering on the pictures of the palace you had stuck to the walls. It felt surreal having one of the actual princes stood in your room but you put the whole experience down to having too much mead. You decided to further test this delusion and continue the conversation. “Well unless you’re going to offer me a seat at the royal dining table or an audience with the queen, I suggest you leave.” You broke the silence causing Loki to snap out of his staring competition with the picture of the palace that showed part of his room as he remembered his dilemma.

“And what would you be willing to do for a seat at the royal dining table?” He questioned, smirking making your eyes round in realisation.

“Not that!” You gasped.

“It would only be until I am crowned king.” He tried to explain.

“You want me to sleep with you until you’re a king? What the fu—”

“I think we’re thinking of two different things” Loki interrupted leaving you confused “tell me ummm—what’s your name?”

“Y/n.” You answered.

“Lovely” he clapped “tell me y/n, are you married?”

“No.” You almost laughed, you weren’t even courting anyone.

“Good.” Loki smiled.

“Why is that good?” You questioned defensively.

“I’ve got a proposition for you y/n, let’s discuss this over wine.”

“You’ve got wine?”

“I assumed you did.” He replied, brows knitting.

“I’ve got wine, my wine, you can have water.” You disagreed with him, no longer sure whether this was real or fiction conjured up by your besotted mind. He looked real enough, smelt regal enough.

“And why can’t I have any wine?” He asked incredulously.

“It’s my wine, I don’t see you bringing me any wine. It’s expensive you know, I can’t just waste my wine.” You tried to explain to him.

“Y/n, I am a prince.” Loki reasoned.

“Exactly, you should have bought wine.”

“Well I’ll make sure I remember it for the next time I bump into a stranger in the street.” He puffed, taking a seat as well as the glass of water you were offering him before he began to divulge his proposal.

You listened intensely to his plan, the realisation that he wasn’t a mirage making you a little giddy as you downed your drink, nodding along to words.

“I’ve got one question.” You spoke once he was finished.

“Anything.” He nodded.

“Are you insane?” You asked causing him to sigh. “I mean how would we even do it? We don’t even know eachother.”

“I can easily remedy that.” He assured.

“And pray tell prince, what’s your smart idea?”

“I can create a link between us, it’ll give me access to—” he began, placing his fingers against your temples as you moved your head away “you’ve got to trust me.”

“Well I don’t.” You affirmed.

“What reason other than what I just said would I want to do this with you?” He sneered.

“Fine.” You answered, rolling your eyes before he continued.

“As I was saying, I could create a psychic link between us which would enable us to send thoughts to one another.” He elaborated.

“And why would we need to do that?”

“Because when my mother asks, which she will, things about yourself, my future wife, it’d be good if I could actually answer. Vice versa” he clarified “you’ve got to know a little about me.”

“I know two things” you grinned “arrogant, prince.”

“Behave” he cautioned “so y/n, for the promise of a fortune, would you play the part of my doting betrothed?” He asked, looking into your eyes.

“Yes.” You replied with a small nod, unsure of what you were actually getting yourself into.

Loki on his way to kingdom 😂 as always whenever I start a new fic, let me know if you wanna see more or if I should start a diff story

Next

Tags:

@lokiprompts @mischief2sarawr @lulubelle814 @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @eyesbluelikethetitanic @vickie5446 @mcufan72 @fictive-sl0th @peaches1958 @xorpsbane @sailorholly @anukulee @yukio369

[onlydeas]

i think i should step in and do heimdall headcanons he needs love !! 

ever since god of war ragnarok came out idk i just fell for heimdall. it be the assholes

Heimdall headcanons

Meeting Heimdall wasn't the best thing, in fact, anybody who encountered him never had the best experience, therefore he was always regarded as Asgard's asshole. But you know what? You had so much patience with this man, even if his pettiness had forced you to hold on by a strand of hair, and you couldn't even land a hit on him, so what was the purpose of getting angry? “im sorry im actually here to work with heimdall, odin sent me” His eyebrows furrowed "You have no idea who I am, do you? im heimdall" As he uttered his name, your eyes widened, "no, I'd rather be tossed from the wall now." 

sometimes you honestly wanted to quit your job but the fear you had for odin and the ego of not quitting and no matter how annoying heimdall is you will not let him win. you can not leave “why dont you just let me do my job alone you suck at fighting and you bore me” heimdall was your number one hater “ so if i were to take a tooth from you and sell it for money id be in the wrong huh” heimdall turned around feeling his teeth how could you say that he needs to be careful now and take care of his teeth or one day he’s waking up with none

Working with heimdall was a pain in the ass; how could one be so bossy? Why couldn't we simply have some fun for a while? No, you had to be on your feet with the man whose only friend was gulltoppr. “hey heimdall why dont we have some fun and explore Asgard” heimdall looked at you and only one word left his mouth “no” How could he be so irritating? Why couldn't he show you around and tell you about this place? "But why not? I believe I deserve it because I've been helping you around here." Heimdall gave you a sidelong glance "I already seen it all," you grabbed his arm and pulled him down to you. "I haven't seen everything, so please show me around."

heimdall looked into your eyes seeing how badly you wanted him to take you around he sighed and rolled his eyes “only once you’re honestly really annoying” you smiled and followed him towards gulltoppr and got on. The whole tour of asgard and heimdall explaining the history of it made you so happy you couldn’t believe you didnt ask for a tour a while ago its beautiful, heimdall took a glance at you, you appeared to be paying close attention to everything heimdall was saying. “you know heimdall for someone who always has something negative to say you aren’t so bad” you laughed, you payed attention to the beauty of Asgard while he was mesmerized by you

ever since that day heimdall gave you a tour he’s been surprisingly nicer to you even though he’s tried to drop you off the wall multiple times and still gives you his petty comments for no reason he was nicer while you put no attention to it heimdall was loosing his mind because he was developing feelings for you and he knew that he knew that really well every time you spoke to him his cheeks would turn pink and being a pale guy wasn’t really helping him he felt betrayed by his own body he didnt even want to make eye contact with you for seeing the future or reading your mind would hurt him if he found out you wanted nothing to do with him for someone who can not relax even for a moment this was driving him insane but he needed to be professional

heimdall was a bother to you keyword ‘was’ you couldnt stand him at all but being around him and learning more about him actually made you really happy he made you really happy you couldnt stand not being around him he was your partner after all how could an asshole to everything make you feel this way you would wait for him outside his place every morning to start the day you’d follow him everywhere hearing his voice made you so happy. you and him were like rosemary and thyme you both were amazing together you wouldnt even mind heimdall reading your mind with his foresight but lately he wouldnt look at you

his feelings only grew stronger day by day as much as he wanted to tell you how much you mean to him and how he would go to war for you he tried to focus on what you were here for ‘work’ he didnt want anyone getting in trouble because of his feelings so he pushed them so deep into his heart he thought the only way he wouldnt think about it was to ignore you and act like how he does with everyone. that only hurt your feelings so much why was he acting that way with you, you only wanted to tell him about your feelings but he wouldn’t make eye contact with you or even speak to you, he doesn’t know how badly his actions were hurting you “heimdall can we please talk, why are you ignoring me?” heimdall didnt look at you he only continued what he was doing “heimdall please listen to me”

as much as you tried to speak to him he would only turn his back to you this really was hurting you so much you thought you both were forming a really good friendship now out of no where he starts being a asshole to you again like how it first started “you left me waiting, you know im not really patient heimdall when i confronted you about not speaking to me you didnt say anything why are you doing this?” heimdall looked at you after so long and spoke “what is there to say (y/n) i dont need to listen to you we arent friends so give me space and stay out of my way” that really did it that broke your heart into so many pieces before he could even walk away you grabbed his hand “please dont leave me ive been going through emotions you dont even know about and each time i try to make you look at me so you can see how much i feel for you, you always ignore me!”

“what do you need (y/n)! what do you want?!” your eyes were filled with tears any second you could just burst into tears, you pulled him down and kissed him and for once someone actually touched him your tears flowed down your cheeks as you kissed him “i need and want you heimdall..i really truly love you so much” heimdall looked into your eyes seeing how much you really do love him he sighed in relief that you felt the same way he pressed his lips on yours holding you face

being heimdalls lover was such a dream I mean of course everyone would always ask you what do you see him that they dont with heimdalls cocky personality he was literally such a dream to you imagine just having a boyfriend who's rude to the whole world but with you hes so sweet and patient

heimdall couldn't keep his hands off you he just wanted to feel you all the time he wasn't fond of the pda maybe just holding your hand, kissing your cheeks and hugging you every chance he could get but in private oh gosh he doesnt stop kissing you, touching you he follows you everywhere seriously hes like a duckling he just cant get enough of you, hes so in love with you "heimdall..do you really need to follow me into the bathroom" heimdall nods you dont know if hes trying to protect you orrr hes just being a creep

his foresight is truly amazing he always knows what you want, when you want and how. sometimes he can be such a tease about it too I mean sometimes you want to kiss him but he dodges you and teases you about it when you fail to kiss him not just once, or twice but after hes done laughing and teasing you he gives you so much kisses to make up the ones you tried to give him "how could you dodge my kisses!" heimdall laughs kissing you all over

in heimdalls eyes you are everything he needs in his life he would never leave you, you being a mortal and him being a god gave him so much motivation into protecting you from all harm in the world he always says things like you were created in this world for him to love, protect, to hold, to feel you he can’t do anything if you arent in his life his words are seriously the sweetest thing ever he always knows what to say having a god as a boyfriend and not only that he is very intelligent but sometimes he forgets to think hes very impulsive he hates it when other gods ask you for favors why you? why couldnt they pick all the other mortals or find a god or something why bother whats his?

heimdall surprisingly talks about marriage with you everyone is so surprised since he seems like he’d rather be alone forever cause of his attitude with everyone he talks about marriage and a family how he wants to raise children with you he brings it up more then you do! even at random times like when you both are sleeping together…“so if when we get married should we get gulltoppr to be the flower-“ you groaned and sat up “seriously heimdall go to bed” heimdall sat uo to look at you “its a serious question y/n!!”

lets be honest im sure heimdall would be so clingy the way hes dedicated to protecting asgard im sure he’d always want to be with you its like he’d want to be apart of you he’s the type to stay so close to you never leaving your side for nothing who knows what other gods have in mind

you are what calms him every time hes about to explode he thinks about you he constantly whispers your name every second this man has anger issues he cannot relax for a moment thor literally has him on his last strand his strand is thinner than hair, everyone is very fond of you you changed his attitude he isnt so mean as before but when you arent near him he may explode any second “ just think about y/n yes think about y/n, y/n will get very mad if i do something wrong and i dont want that just imagine y/n” heimdall is smiling at a corner thinking about you so he wouldn’t start a war

whatever you want you shall receive even if he doesnt even know what it is he will find it or create it, his attention is all yours he could constantly stare at you speaking for hours but thats you, heimdall never stops talking and you admire him and how talkative he is. heimdall seriously loves you so much he’s balance he loves to give you everything you need from gifts, communication to love and attention

heimdall and you are seriously best friends and lovers heimdall always comes to you as if he was a best friend ready to spill gossip from anything he seems like he loves having those gossip talks its his second favorite thing and his first is you “yeah thors at it again im surprised Sif hasnt said anything to him she never does its usually thrúd” heimdall rolled his eyes and took a bite out of his food “heimdall you know you cant reason with thor plus hes went through a lot” heimdall looked at you “yes but he handles it with his drinking problem could never and would never be me” you sighed and smiled heimdall is a hater to mankind

(NSFW mild warning ig)

sometimes when hes in the mood if you know what I mean *side eye* its just the best thing ever looking into your eyes and seeing everything you want he'll do it hes so very dominate he always wants to be in control I mean why wouldn't he be he knows the future and he knows what you want during it he loves everything about you I wouldn't say even your imperfections because to him you are the most perfect being ever he loves you he needs you. hes so obsessed with everything about you, his voice is so gentle even when hes being cocky during it, it makes you melt just by him already knowing hes good at what hes doing to you

he can be rough not so rough he doesnt want to hurt you because he is way stronger then you since hes a god and hes extremely fast it feels like you're going into another realm. heimdall loves when you're being vocal during it he wants everyone to know you are his and what you and him are doing that very moment sometimes he can be a asshole and make you cry during it if he doesnt make you cry did you really enjoy it? im sure hes so good with his hands I mean his long fingers says it all as soon as he gets his hands on your body prepare for the best feeling of your life. cant get over his foresight its so attractive seeing into the future he just knows what to do to you. his eyes are the only thing that glows during that moment he always keeps his eyes on you even when you try to look away he moves your face back to him he makes sure to make you look at him every second

when you want to be top and he allows it hes just a mess he cant stop blushing he just cant get over how good you look being on top of him no matter who it is he hates being looked down on but you he cant get over it he loves it so much just holding you and looking at you he cant get his eyes off you

overall heimdall is such a dream hes a tall, strong blond, hes a god and not only that his eyes are so beautiful you get mesmerized with only looking into then hes a asshole to everyone but with you he will always be your number one fan and the person he loves the most and it shows everyone knows how much that man loves you and would live and die for you because you are and always will be the one for him as he always says “until my heart beats for the last time only then will i maybe stop loving you” keyword maybe but we all know even in death he’d love you forever even when hes reborn again he will love

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i failed my presentation for AP Seminar for this i hope you all love this because that horrifying grade was worth it i love heimdall

if you guys want more let meee knowww !!!

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello! First I wanted to say that I love your works and the way you write, new fan!

For some time now I have had the idea of ​​a reader who is reincarnation itself; She is not classified as a deity or a god/goddess since she is always changing, she can be reborn as a human, plant, star, whatever, but she always comes back and remembers all her lives. He takes care that life and death take their course and dictates that you will return when life ends (I really believe in reincarnation and that we always return even if it is different) so everyone has a lot of respect for him, even Zeus tries not to put on its bad side since it practically controls mortality.

Perhaps a scenario where humanity wins Ragnarök and she brings those who died back, saying that now that both sides are done fighting like children, they can stop playing death as a joke. She is very strict with the times of each living being in existence and it bothered her that they killed just because. Maybe some gods were already interested in her and some humans were interested in her now (they can be whoever you want, I don't have favorites)

Sorry if something is not understood, my English is not the best, take your time and I hope you like it!

-You were a timeless deity, one who has been around since the beginning of time itself, the personification of life itself.

-You oversaw the birth, the life, and the death of every living creature in existence, granting new lives to the souls of the departed of those who have earned it, as you dictate who is reborn and who is forced to wander until their own turn.

-You could take the soul of a human who lived a hard life, and reincarnate him as a dog that will be loved by his family, giving the soul the love he always wanted, or punish one who was cruel, forcing them to be reborn as an insect, doomed to perish within a week after living in fear.

-Those souls would only remember bits and pieces of their most previous life, but not everything.

-You were the exception, constantly moving, being reborn to live as another creature in each life, remembering everything from every single one of your previously lives.

-You can move through the different worlds at will, much like the other strongest gods, like Zeus and Odin, only you are above them in power, as you could easily end their lives on a whim.

-You never would however, you were not a vindictive person, knowing that anything mortal would have their lives ended, and the gods knew not to test you, not knowing when you could snap, as you did it with the oldest gods, the primordial ones, ending their lives to save the lives of the then young gods.

-Even Zeus, the most powerful god in Valhalla, knew not to cross you, but he never would intentionally upset you, he would tease you sometimes, but never to make you mad on purpose.

-You had been on earth, in your natural form, a tall pale woman with flowing black hair, looking like the moon against the dark sky, beautiful, but intimidating at the same time.

-You were roaming the countryside, looking at the new farm animals running around, as spring time was your busiest time for rebirth.

-A funny feeling came over you, one that you couldn’t shake, with the feeling growing more and more intense the more you tried to ignore it.

-When you finally realized that gods were dying, you were quick to ascend, masking your presence and you quickly grew infuriated, learning that the gods were going to wipe out humanity on a mere whim, and to prevent that, a tournament, Ragnarok, had occurred, fights to the death of souls of both gods and humans.

-You remained hidden, watching from high above, watching the conclusion of the fights, impressed that humanity managed to fight back and win against the gods, earning their salvation.

-When Zeus tried to say something that’s when you made your presence known, appearing before them all, your flowing black dress swirling around you, “That’s enough!!”

-The humans didn’t know you but seeing the fear on the faces of the gods, even the strongest like Odin and Zeus, they knew you were something much more powerful.

-You waved your hand and in stunned awe, sparkly dust swirled around you, forming above your outstretched hand like a tornado, just without the wind before the tornado lowered to the arena below.

-One by one, those who lost their lives, including the valkyries, Red Hair, Chen Gong, and the rest of Lu Bu’s armies, were reformed, taking shape again until everyone was standing there.

-You waved your hand once more and instantly life was breathed into them and they all gasped, as if they were shocked, seeing they were alive again.

-The stadium roared with cheers, seeing everyone back while those you just brought back were in shock, celebrating with their own loved ones.

-Zeus plowed down both of his older brothers, overjoyed they were back with him and Zerofuku flew right into Buddha’s open arms, hugging him tightly.

-You were silent for a moment before you started to hear people thanking you, and you lowered to the ground below, your eyes narrowed, “Now that you’re reunited with your loved ones, do you think death is a game?!”

-Your booming voice silenced everyone, many now afraid of you as they had never seen you this upset before.

-You scolded the gods, as they were the one to cause this whole mess, Odin and Zeus on their knees before you, looking like children, “I oversee the lives of all living creatures, including you idiot gods! For you to just turn around and kill others just because- I ought-a~”

-You inhaled deeply, regaining your composure, whacking the both of them on the head, leaving steaming lumps on their heads as you told everyone to not do anything like this ever again, or else, and nobody was brave enough to ask you ‘or else what’ as they wanted to live.

-You turned to see the humans, many whom you remember from so long ago, such proud and strong warriors, willing to sacrifice all for the salvation of humanity.

-You passed by Kojiro as you headed towards you own little section of Valhalla, passing by him and your eyes met his own and he instantly bowed, giving you a shy little smile, which made you smile, not used to men really giving you attention as you were basically a goddess of death and rebirth.

-Kojiro stunned all by asking you out for tea, and they became even more shocked when you agreed, finding him soothing to be around. You remember how hard he worked while alive, despite losing so many battles, but he never gave up.

-You took his arm, hugging it, stunning even him before he bashfully laughed and led you out.

-Zeus was stunned stiff, pointing towards the two of you, “How the hell did he get her?!”

[spamtoon]

DCRC Week 12 Paperinik

Huh? Aren't we reading Missing? Yes we are BUT I forgot to read angus tales last time what a crime

If I sound dead tired its because lord school is kicking me in the behind and I'm using this as a break. Let's do this.

i like that angus tales opens up with he's a bitch and then blasts you with a contactless woman

i do like the art style though i will admit. silly. dare i say angus fangus is kinda cute here, in a doofy way

im so mad the way hes like "A RAID? GREAT!!!!"

this actually got a chuckle out of me i will admit. the eyelids really sell it for me

the artist did a good job with these expressions i. they made angus fangus silly

angus fangus got played so hard. but i support women's wrongs. or rights in this case because she's stealing from angus fangus

OKAY NOW FOR tHE ACTUAL ISSUE Missing? Special issue 1997? Like

i missed flaggstarr but not because i watned to see more of the fbi but because i like her design

she's so silly for no reason

i love the lighting on this panel so much and the contrast in their expressions and demeanors sorry i. tend to go ooh pretty panel when i do these readings i think you've noticed

"we all think sometimes... watch a bit of tv and it'll pass soon" lowkey goes hard to me im not even gonna lie

and next in the saga of its not darkwing duck but cmon... its darkwing duck... goes to. i mean tell me thats not a little activity from st canard right next door that'll go away in a day

nevermind this is actualy where the story is going

i like how after listening to his sob story donald actually fixes his raincoat if not out of a sliver of hope for change but out of solidarity for the messed up symbiotic relationship they have

can we go here. can we go here lyla lay please i wanna see the amusement pa--oh hold on, the marleybonians are calling (REFERENCE ONLY PUFFY WILL GET)

i like how lyla's robot interface just has donald getting fucking shot i'm so mad hfuirajfkgrhuihur

ooh she's being a good little robot cop. by not following orders and doing her own shit

ahh so a simple time earthquake can release the prisoners of course. no wonder the raider can just get out

im so mad 'i know you just saved everyone's life but YOURE GROUNDED!!! BACK TO YOUR CENTURY"

i think the raider should call humans mutants more often

raider you realized the duck avenger wasnt there because hes. in the tv. and i've known that since next week is so bad but i wouldn't expect anything less

cog i'm glad that uno is still just. trying his best to fight crime even though he's struggling so hard

IM SO MAD im. uno really said (corner of a party meme) he doesn't know i'm odin eidolon

odin's makeup is on point today i must say (SORRY)

SCROOGE!!!! forgot he was in these comics.

HI XADOOM!!!!! sorry im just enjoying seeing all of these characters

fheawuifheohh wahhh she's so happy but this feels so too good to be true everybody is clapping i cant

IM SO MAD shoutout to the vr technicians at the xadhoom division because honestly they deserve credit for faking a whole planet. even if it didnt really work

i have had nothing to say about it but i'm glad one of the stories here is. random evronian adventures

IM SO MAD the way xadhoom just took out the entire evronian base in the span of the two random evronians adventure

IM SO MAD THE WAY HES JUST. in monkland with everett ducklair

and that was missing! i enjoyed myself reading that comic and i'm probably going to be dragged into the aether soon but i missed pk man. and here he is!!!! or i guess isn't

[pascaloverx]

Forbidden Romance (+18)

Summary: You are in love with Prince Thor. He will soon be King and is hosting a ball between Kingdoms so he can find his future bride. Unfortunately, the Kingdom of Asgard is not ready to accept the Chief of the Royal Guard as the new Queen.

Warnings: inappropriate language, use of violence and adult content in the future of fanfic. some characters belong to the Marvel universe and others were created by the author. This chapter has adult content (smut). Minors do not read or interact with this fanfic.

chapter five chapter seven

Chapter Six

A week after King Odin's illness became public, Asgard was in Thor's hands. What didn't seem like a big problem until power started corrupting the man you love. Thor decided that no marriage would be officialized until he got married. Which now seemed to be the last thing on his mind. Although he was seen with Lady Sif and on another occasion with Princess Jane, no marriage seems to be forthcoming. Odin looks too pale for a King as he murmurs in pain on his large bed. You approach gently, as if afraid of what will come next. And you are afraid of what comes next.

"Your Majesty, I fear for the well-being of our realm. I know your health is fragile, but your eldest son will cause the ruin of Asgard. I can assure you of that," you speak assertively as you approach Odin's bed. He looks at you with weakness. He is too weak.

"Child, do you fear my son's recklessness or that he loves you more than he loves Asgard?" King Odin speaks with great effort. You feel sorry for the King who once embodied the greatness of Asgard, but now symbolizes its potential decline.

"Since when, Your Majesty, have you known?" You ask, ashamed, feeling like a complete idiot for thinking the King didn't suspect your affair with Thor.

"My brave child, since Thor laid eyes on you, I knew. It is the duty of the King to know everything that happens in his realm. Know that by my will, you two would never have been involved, but Thor begged me, swearing to become a successor worthy of Asgard. That's why he will not marry you. Believe me, separately, I hold you both in great esteem. But together, you will be the end of all that is good in Asgard. Therefore, even on my deathbed, I will tell you what you must do, so that my son does not prevent you from marrying Prince Steve." King Odin speaks with a certain superiority. Even in his dying moments, the old man feels superior to you, even though he doesn't seem to hate you.

"You put me where I am today? I'm where I am today because your son couldn't control an erection? Give up this speech of superiority. You've aged poorly like a rotten bag. I'll probably be a Queen who, besides being loved by the people, will be loved by my husband. Whoever he may be. Now choose, do you want me to be the queen of Asgard or of Kyrax? Decide quickly, for by the course of our conversation, you will die before your son decides his bride. Trust me, Allfather, if I don't marry Steve, your son will be the first King of Asgard to have a non-noble wife. You can count on that." You say, approaching the King of Asgard, while he seems almost sickened by your threat. Amidst sideways glances and coughs, Odin finally managed to approach you.

"Have a ceremony under the sacred fire captured in the war against the Starks, you need someone from the nobility to officiate. Loki can help in this situation. That's all you need. I should add that you should consummate this marriage as soon as possible." King Odin looks defeated as he trembles in bed. Not all the royalty in the world can save the soul of a great sinner.

"Any other recommendations, Your Majesty?" You speak with contempt and pity at the same time. Odin looks at him as if he had to deliver bad news.

"I'm sorry to inform you, young lady, but you will have to do me one last favor before this is all over. I want my son engaged to Princess Jane. I beg for your help in this matter." Every word that came out of Odin's mouth seemed to be his last. His breathing is so weakened that you fear he will die before you leave the room.

"Consider done." You say leaving the room quickly, a little upset with what you're about to do. It will be the official end of your story with Asgard. Your story with Thor. You walk with heavy steps to the King Regent's room. Thor is lying in his bed. As soon as you enter his room, he stares at you.

"If you're going to come into my room like this, wouldn't it be better to lie down next to me?" Thor speaks with his eyes half open as you slowly approach his bed.

"I believe this is your future wife's task, no woman who has spent the last few years seeing your dick almost every day, Your Majesty." You respond, standing in front of Thor's bed.he is covered by sheets but visible naked.

"Jealousy looks good on you. I never thought you would feel threatened by anyone in this realm I've been involved with. It seems like it was wrong." Thor says as he slowly crawls onto the bed to standing with his legs open in front of you. All that stopped you from seeing him naked was the sheet. 

"Your father asked me for something. I want to know if there's any logical reasoning left in that brain of yours. He wants his marriage to Jane. He thinks you and her will be a good couple." You say, getting closer and closer to Thor. He doesn't seem to pay attention to what you're saying but at the same time he is paying attention to you. Horny was never a problem in our relationship. 

"What do you think?" Thor asks as his hands roam your body. He gently touches your belly, moving up to your breasts. You know how this will end. After all, that's what you came for. You take off the clothes you're wearing, mentally thanking yourself for not wearing armor. 

"I think you should marry her. You two are a good match, she will be a good queen. You two will probably have beautiful children." You say as you feel Thor's hand grip your ass tightly. An involuntary moan came out of your mouth.

"And you came to have sex with me to convince me that I should marry Jane?" Thor says as he holds your waist, laying you down on his bed. You kiss him, with desire. This is your farewell to him, the end of an era. Your lips felt like they belonged together. Your hands held tight to Thor's hair as your lips took possession of his lips.

"I came to say goodbye. So please, Your Majesty, shut up and enjoy." You say, dragging the sheet that still covered Thor's body and throwing it away. Thor holds your ass, slapping each buttock as he guides you to ride him. When his dick enters you, you feel an impulse to bounce, causing a strangely pleasant sensation. You and Thor look like animals, as he scratches your ass while holding onto it, you bite all over his neck. Sometimes biting Thor's lips and holding tight to his hair, you feel like it's going to overflow. 

"I don't want to say goodbye to you." Thor says as he enters you again, at a slow pace as if he doesn't want to end. However, you don't want to talk about feelings, so you start to sit on the Thor's cock faster, letting out grunts as you felt him inside you. Your hands hold Thor's body tight as you feel your orgasm coming. Thor seemed lost between moans and the desire to take over your entire body. His hands firmly holding your thighs as he pulls you closer as if he wants to tease you. His dick moving in and out of you faster and faster, your bodies getting sweatier and sweatier while your heart feels like it's going to come out of your mouth. Your breasts bump against Thor's chest causing a good sensation, until you feel his hands cupping your breasts. It all felt very carnal and real. The desire between you is very real.Moments later, you and Thor cum. You then allow yourself to give him one last kiss, tasting blood as you ended up causing a slight injury to his mouth while biting it.

"I don't like Jane. She seems like the perfect match for you and that bothers me. But it's very clear that you and I have a destiny to follow and that destiny is not with each other. I hope that one day you see that." You speak while you still feel Thor inside you. You hug him while still sitting on him and get up, picking up your clothes. It's time to put your plan into action. 

"You know all this doesn't change my opinion, your Prince Steve will return to the kingdom of Kyrax. And you will stay here. By my side." Thor says and you almost feel the need to laugh. He really thinks he owns you.

"Obviously, Your Majesty. I will withdraw because there is no place in this room for me and your ego. Make good use of your solitude." You go to the exit, where among Thor's things, you find what you came looking for. The key to the secret hall that holds the sacred fire. Now let's see who will side with whom.

To be continued...

[rukia-writes]

I had a wholesome request for the ragnarok men pls? Like their little baby daughter wanted to prove to her daddy that’s she’s not a baby she insists on riding a haunted ferry! A spooky ride with jump scares that inevitably has her clinging/hiding in daddy’s chest! At the end of the ride she feel embarrassed for not being brave and cries! How does daddy comfort her?

Awww 🥰 that’s the sweetest ♥️♥️♥️

The ones who pat the top of her head while carrying her in their arms and says,”Don’t cry, I think you’re the bravest princess ever.”:

Hades, Adam (That’s DAD), Young! Zeus, Leonidas, (I said what I said), Ares, Hercules, Qin Shi Huang, Shiva,

The one who try to make her laugh and then comforts her with her favorite food/toy:

Tesla, Hercules, Hades, Young! Zeus, Qin Shi Huang

The ones who comfort her by saying, “There is nothing to cry about. I’ll kick its ass if you want.” (It’s a joke of course):

Lu Bu, Leonidas, Raiden.

The ones who wipe the tears and say, “A princess shouldn’t cry, don’t worry I still love regardless.” And then gives her a kiss on her forehead:

Apollo, Hades, Ares, Hercules, Qin Shi Huang, Raiden.

The one who pat her head and makes it a life lesson, “You are not a coward. You are brave because you didn’t let the fear defeat you.” (Something along those lines):

Poseidon, Thor, Odin, Hermes.

The one tries to make her laugh by making funny faces/doing a trick:

Loki (DOES BOTH), Hercules (makes the funny faces), Hermes (tries to make funny faces but it scares her 😭 and it makes Hermes pout which makes her smile which makes Hermes smile ♥️) Ares.

The ones who say (I’m sorry 😭 ) “Crying is for ugly people, and you’re not ugly.” While wiping away her tears with a tissue:

Apollo, Loki, Poseidon.

The ones who spoil her afterwards and we’re going just going to regardless:

All of them.

[avelera]

So I never really commented on the "Loki" show on here very much, even though I watched it, for a few reasons.

I found the first season visually beautiful but spiritually hollow and ultimately uninteresting. My connection to Loki was through his story as an Asgardian, his relationship with Thor and Odin and the others. I was prepared for the possibility that the show would focus elsewhere, by necessity, but I was always facing a similar uphill battle to liking it as I did the Winter Soldier show: the relationships I wanted to see more of (Steve/Bucky, Thor & Loki) weren't going to be there in favor of new side characters and my heart just wasn't really in it. But I gave it a chance.

The bigger issue was this: I fucking hate magical policing agencies as a plot point. Corporate organizations tasked to control time, or magic, or stop normal people from learning about magic, blah blah blah, I hate them. I find them immensely boring. Part of it is because I tried to write one once for NaNo in college! I understand the appeal! But they are just deeply, deeply boring to me as a concept. They are overplayed and tired and dull. Loki's TVA would have to have been something truly exceptional to win me over and then it was the whole point of the show and it wasn't exceptional, just the trope played straight and I just... wilted with disinterest.

I also hate mid-20th century aesthetics. Truly despise them. I hate the orange decor and the brown suits and the atomic era gigantic room-sized computers. It's kitchys and awful and I loathe it with my entire being. It repels me. So when the TVA had that aesthetic and the TVA was core to a story about a Norse god, you can perhaps begin to see the problem.

I loved Sylvie's actress. I loved the idea of Sylvie. I loathed the Sylvie plotline. Why don't we know more about what her life was like as a Loki? Did she have a relationship to the Asgardians ever? Why aren't Loki and Sylvie being constantly teased for being narcissists at best and incestuous at worst if they show any interest in each other? I loathed that romance, I found it gross and hollow and uninteresting and cheap. I was so glad when S2 seemed to drop interest in it.

Look, at a certain point, I just accepted that I'm not the target audience. It wasn't the Loki show I was hoping for, something more akin to Journey into Mystery for example. It barely acknowledged Loki's mythological roots, his actual magical abilities which on numerous occasions would have far outclassed the threats they faced with weird TVA technology, and just... look, it wasn't for me, a mythology buff. I just didn't like it or what it was going for.

This isn't to say it was bad! Just that it was absolutely stacked against my personal tastes in its aesthetic and story choices about 3/4 of the time.

But I did watch the whole thing. And I loved the visuals of the ending sequence in S2.

I hope this means if Loki returns, the door is open for a more magical, mythologically informed Loki. I hope he returns! I hope that just being on his magical time throne doesn't mean he's stuck there but that either his variants, or his ghost, or him puppeting his own variants or whatever can continue to interact with the timeline. I think it's such a magical mystical set up that it's very likely to be possible. it's magic! They can do anything!

But for the love of all the Norse gods, if I never see that hideous cliche TVA again it will be too soon. Sorry, Mobius, you were fun and charming and I loved seeing what the Lokius shippers cooked up, but I hate your work place so much it made me want to claw my own eyes out.

[therese-lokidottir]

Fucking pissed off at all the retconning of Loki’s backstory and his pain in the series. And how it rendered people virtually blameless according to some fans. The more I read, the more annoyed I get.

It’s not Thor, The Warriors 3, and Odin’s fault anymore they were so awful, it wasn’t that Loki was outcasted for being different- It’s the TVA making them that way because Loki should be a villain. Loki was born to be a villain. Also Odin “loves” Loki and Loki should have appreciated that.

Rightful king of Jotunheim? Wrong! Loki was just born to be a buttmonkey villain. It’s not his birthright. Infact, let’s not touch Loki’s self hatred over his heritage to the point people don’t even know he’s a frost giant if they haven’t seen any of the previous films.

It’s not Thanos who sent Loki- It’s the TVA who made him that way because Loki should be a villain and is naturally evil. Also he was mad at his Brother and Father and had a tantrum.

And Dark World and Hell, even Ragnarok where Loki does fucking GOOD deeds? Ignored. Loki should be a villain. He’s never done any good deeds ever and was always a villain cuz he has the TVA pulling his strings. (Let’s face it, the MCU dislikes Thor 1 and Dark World.)

All of his trauma seems to be retconned and all the people who hurt him are now considered blameless because they were puppets too, basically. Loki is supposed to be an evil punching bag and nothing more. It sucks his relativity away. It sucks his moral grayness away. It sucks his trauma away as “Not actually real, really. No one hurt him- or at least no one to blame hurt him. He’s just the evil punching bag of the MCU, but like it’s not the TVA’s fault either cuz they saved him and are just doing their job, and were brainwashed, or some shit. 🤷🤷” Fuck this series, fuck Waldron. This series has such a terrible understanding of nihilism and an anti-Free will message to boot, it’s not as smart as it thinks it is. No one writing on this liked Loki or knew anything about him, and it’s clear. And now the writers have the absolute nerve to say that “Asgard was Toxic to Loki and he finally has people who care about him”? Now???? When the people who “cared” were probably just as bad if not worse than Asgard???? I’m sorry for ranting- I’m just so annoyed. This is why nothing in the series will ever be canon to me and what they’re saying now is annoying. Not even the series Variant of Loki is canon to me. :( Fuck the TVA plot. (I’m beginning to wonder if the writers see people who were outcasted and othered as “pathetic”……)

Yeah, I get it I've made my rants as well

Really, the entire premise of the series and the TVA have an implication no one seem to realize and that they don't actually want to explore. It's frustrating because really what it is that no one is any certain way, it just that anyone who goes off the path is murdered.

The Loki of the void fighting of the example of how both shallow the writing is and how it contradicts and doesn't even explore its own concepts. They say Lokis who try to fix themselves end up in the void, but then it just goes with the idea that Loki is evil and selfish. So, why even have that line at all?

It's such a poorly written show that because of its need to make loki to be terrible any interesting end up going down the drain. Also, because it's so unclear what the actual rules are. There are no implications of what is actually true vs what the characters are claiming so you have to take what the characters say at face value and that is frustrating and often contradictory to what was established early in canon.

[haljathefangirlcat]

In the academic articles you've read, have you found anything that talks about how the Nibelungs are associated with eagle imagery? Kriemhild/Gudrun's dream has them represented by eagles, and in the Lay of Atli, it says many times the Nibelung brothers wear "eagle-gripped helmets". Is it just because the eagle is a noble animal? Or is there some sort of historical significance where the Nibelung Dynasty of the Kingdom of the Burgundians was associated with eagles?

Hey! Sorry it took me a while to answer this! Real life... *eyeroll*

I've searched a bit through my files and my bookmarks, but unfortunately, I couldn't find anything on eagles in the Nibelung/Volsung Cycle or on any specific associations between them and the Burgundians. As it is, I get the impression (even if, obviously, I might be missing something, especially if either of those topics has been covered in German...) that it simply goes back to the representation of birds of prey in Medieval literature.

To start with, eagles are about as likely to be fed or slake their thirst on battlefields as ravens and hawks in Norse poetry, so that's already an association between them and war/warriors/brave men with a chance to meet a gorey end. And if we look at the Eddas, Suttung and Odin both take the shape of eagles in the story of the creation and theft(s) of the Mead of Poetry, Thjazi does the same when bothering Odin, Loki, and Hoenir and then again when kidnapping Idun, and there's also the eagle sitting on Yggdrasil having beef with Nidhogg as well as Hraesvelg, the giant eagle or jotun-in-eagle-form that creates the winds by flapping its winds... all images that don't exactly paint a unified picture (then again, when do we ever get anything like that in Norse mythology? lol) but imo still add up to a general idea of "eagles are important/strong/majestic when you're on their good side and menacing when you aren't/just kind of badass."

However, in the case of the Nibelungenlied and specifically of Kriemhild's dream... now, please take this with a grain, or rather a bucket, of salt, because it's just my idea and it's not backed up by any kind of academic research. But I do feel that there the eagles might function as a stark, purposeful contrast with the falcon representing Siegfried, and not just in a "I'm gonna go out a limb and say domesticating eagles is probably harder/more time-consuming and expensive than falcons or the trained eagles of Mongolia's hunters probably wouldn't sound so special and exotic to us" way.

See, the eagle and the falcon/hawk are both associated with war and warriors, as I was saying above. They both appear in mythological and legendary contexts, too. But falcons/hawks also seems have a bit of a different symbolic value. In the Volsunga Saga, Sigurd has his second meeting with Brynhild, the more "courtly romance" one, while out hunting with his hawk, and, many years and misfortunes later, Randver, the son of Jormunrek who is executed for hooking up with Svanhild despite her being his dad's new bride, sends Jormunrek his own hawk, with its feathers plucked and unable to fly, to point out to him that all he's really doing is depriving their kingdom of a young, brave heir. Back to Middle High German literature, then, you have the Falkenlied, a poem where love and passion are represented by the flight of a falcon the poet has tamed and cared for himself. And if we move just a bit farther away geographically, yet stay roughly in the same time period as the Falkenlied, you also have Marie de France composing Yonec, a lai where an unhappy noblewoman gets entangled in a tragic romance with a falcon who turns out to be actually a handsome knight, and loses him before his time because of a jealous, tyrannical husband...

Ofc, my "theory," if you can even call it that, about hawks/falcons being strapping young lads with a penchant for passionate romances and a tendency to die bloody deaths before their time, as well as eagles being more martial, morally amiguous, and less "romantic hero" types, only applies to the later sources of the Sigurd/Siegfried tale. Atlakvida might actually date all the way back to the early 9th century, so that's obviously not included into these musings. My stance on that one's still "eagle badass," essentially.

[clownrecess]

As an autistic individual myself, I am interested in the intersection of neurodiversity and various identities.

You've mentioned that you identify as a Norse Pagan. I'm curious about how your spiritual beliefs intersect with your neurodivergent experience. Do you find that your autistic identity informs or impacts your spiritual practice in any way?

(Tw for discussions of trauma, religion, etc.)

Sorry for the late-ish response! I've been working on this post a little everyday to make sure I write it how I want it.

I dont think that my autism has impacted my religion or spirtual experiences/beliefs, but my brain as a whole does. (Update: It actually did influence it quite a bit. I'm realizing this after writing this post. So, uh, thank you for helping me realize something that I find quite interesting!)

When I was a kid, I was raised in christianity. I was very religious. I prayed everyday, I had a cross in my room, etc.

But heres the thing: I have OCD. A few different types, but out of those, one of them is religious OCD.

Most of my praying ages late 8-12 was done purely out of fear. At that point I wasnt even really a Christian, I was just really afraid, which really impacted how I viewed religion. I HATED conversation about it because it felt scary and icky to me.

I didn't understand why people would ever want to talk about it. It felt like a very private topic for me, so I figured people who go out of their way to talk about it must be trying to get extra "good points" with god (maybe that bit was caused by autism, actually.).

During that time, I would go through little phases of a month or so at a time in which I would try to "swing the opposite direction". This was around age 10-11. I was developing an intense anger toward the church, and I just wanted to be the opposite of they were, whatever that meant. Because I didn't want to think about religion (due to anxiety around it), I really didn't know what many religious labels actually meant because researching them made me very uncomfortable, so I briefly identified as a satanist (this would be on and off during ages 10-11.) despite really not knowing what that meant. I think I just wanted a way to separate myself from the church as much as possible.

A few months after I turned 12, I felt a really strong urge to research paganism out of nowhere (I didnt even know what "pagan" meant, I just suddenly felt the need to know things about it. It was very random.). It started sort of as a special interest (Maybe autism did influence me more than I thought! Interesting.), and so I would look into a lot of different branches of paganism, focusing most of my research around hellenistic paganism.

A few weeks after this, I had a very interesting experience which I now believe to have been a sign from Freyja (I dont want to go into specifics. It was personal and I want to keep that special to me. I might later, but for now it's just mine. Just know it was a very beautiful thing from her.). DIRECTLY following this event (Maybe an hour or two later), I felt another urge to research things, but this time to be looking into the Norse Gods/Goddesses (which I'd never even heard of at that point.).

At that point I ended up converting to paganism. It was an extremely sudden decision, but it made sense to me.

No matter what religion I had been apart of before, I always felt anxiety and guilt, causing me to try and fix things by becoming excessively religious again in a Christian way. But from the moment I became pagan, I just never had that ever again. It's been the only religion I've ever felt fully safe in.

It's obviously been quite a while since then, and I'm obviously still a Norse Pagan.

Whilst I now love all the gods and goddesses, Freyja will always be especially special to me.

At this point I have worked with: Freyja, Loki, Odin, Beyla, and Njord.

Now, I also think its important to mention another part of my brain that impacts my religious experience: I am in a system.

Nearly all of us identify as Norse Pagans, but we have a few Agnostics as well, a few Eclectic Pagans, an Atheistic Satanist, and a Theistic Satanist.

The primary religious identity within our system is Norse Paganism, with the majority of individuals identifying as followers of this belief system. Due to this, we say we are a Norse Pagan! We are also okay with just being called "Pagan" on it's own, though.