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liminalpebble · 6 months

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Never Enough (A Loki Comfort Fic)

Summary: It's not a easy life in Asgard's palace as Frigga's witchling apprentice and a victim of relentless teasing thanks to Thor and his warrior posse. You feel like a failure and a misfit, until the patron god of failures and misfits decides to comfort you.

A/N: Angst, comfort, fluff fic (ultimately feel good). Wholesome. Pre-Thor 1 Loki. Loki x reader. Just a little something I wrote to cheer myself up after a week of feeling like I'm getting it all wrong and being stupid. I hope it makes you feel better too if you're going through the same thing.

----

You slammed through the double doors and took long angry strides down the hallway, anxious to get to the privacy of your quarters before tears released themselves from your eyes. None of them...NONE of them...had ever seen you cry, or scream or loose your temper, and you'd be damned if they saw it now.

You considered it some kind of dysfunctional personal record at this point. You saw inscrutability as a strength. If you had to feel alone, you figured, you could at least lean into it and make yourself strong enough to not need the people who would reject you anyway.

All they saw was the serious apprentice in the black velvet gown who stuck to the shadows in every way. Thor, however, saw this seriousness as an opportunity for jest between himself and his warrior friends on many occasions. One day, when the entire court dined together, he turned from his pile of food and gallon of ale to smile at you. Your heart and stomach dropped, knowing he was somehow about to make an ass of you despite your best efforts.

He bellowed your name. You closed your eyes and let out a long breath, gathering your patience for the great oaf.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Tell me, who do you favor in the races?”

“I know not of them, Prince, so I have no preference.”

“Yes, but for the hel of it. Pick one,�� he goaded.

“I suppose Volstagg's steed, as it has the better record?”

The entire room erupted in raucous laughter. All except for one person. The younger prince of Asgard sat quietly with a dangerous look on his pale face.

Fandral shouted drunkenly, “My lady, Volstagg's steed couldn't jump over a single brick, much less a full set of hurdles. Are you entirely sure you're Asgardian, knowing so little about these things?”

Another ripple of laughter erupted around the room. This, you thought, was the final straw. You couldn't stop making small stupid errors lately in your magical training with Frigga. Although she was patient and kind, you could see the disapproval in your beloved mentor's eyes and that was worse than a tirade. And now this.

You took a breath, gathered yourself behind the inscrutable mask you were so accustomed to now, and politely excused yourself for the evening with some remark about the late hour.

-----

Now you raced against your feelings as you stepped quickly down the marble hall, nearly to the safety of your quarters, to privacy. I'm going to make it. You told yourself.

As you reached towards the door of your quarters, a blinding green light interrupted you and Loki's form materialized in your path.

You flinched a little, surprised that the younger prince stood before you with his hands calmly held behind his back.

Alright, just a little longer. Keep it together just a little longer. You ordered yourself.

“Your...Your Highness. What can I do for you?”

He took a measured breath and stepped closer, icy eyes looking down to meet yours, “Dear lady, I was actually wondering what I could do for you.”

You swallowed hard. You had always found the sly brilliant prince intimidating. You studied magic alongside him under Frigga's tutelage. He was spectacular, running circles around you every single lesson. In all these years, he never so much as said an entire sentence to you until now. He seemed barely aware of your presence, in fact, focused instead on larger schemes, ambition and glorious purpose.

You chuckled at the thought. Glorious purpose...meanwhile I have no purpose at all.

“What's so funny?” the prince asked, brows knitted in confusion.

To your horror, you found you had only begun to laugh harder and suddenly you couldn't stop, “Sorry...my liege...I just. Sometimes the arbitrary cruelty of my stupid life strikes me as, well, very tragic...and very funny.”

To your surprise, Loki smiled...not a small polite grin that you'd seen him give many times, but a full wide mischievous Cheshire cat smile, broadcasting an almost manic delight. It frightened you a bit, but gods, he looked even more shockingly handsome than before. You didn't think that was possible.

You flinched a little as he walked closer and his hand came to your face. His fingers felt cool against your hot skin as you realized he was wiping tears away; tears you didn't even realize you had begun to cry.

He nodded toward your door and placed a graceful hand on the small of your back, guiding you. With an understanding kindness in his eyes he whispered. “Come on, let's sit and talk.”

-----

As you sat facing each other on your couch, he conjured two warm cups of tea and a blanket around you. Surprised, you gripped both closer to you and the warm comfort began to seep through the cracks of your icy loneliness.

“Thank you,” you said with a small smile.

He inclined his head of beautiful black hair in a graceful nod. “My pleasure.”

“Forgive me for asking, Your Highness...”

“Loki...just Loki...please.”

“Loki,” you said slowly, cautiously. “Why...why are you doing this? Why are you being so kind.”

He sipped for a moment, taking time to gather his thoughts (a habit his brother apparently didn't share). “I know what it's like. I've been where you are. I've felt what you feel.”

His large lovely eyes never left you, bright and blue and full of sincerity. Not what you were expecting from the god of lies. “Forgive me, Si....Loki...but no, you don't. And no, you haven't.” You took a deep breath and looked to your hands, his intense gaze becoming too much. “You're perfect...at magic...at everything...a prince of the realm. Your place is solid and secure and important. You have a glorious purpose. I...I am simply not enough...not good enough...not smart enough...not enough like them.”

You began to sniff and squint and look away, horrified that the hot tears dared to fall in front of him, of all people. His long hand found yours and encompassed it. He scooted closer and said, “Darling, I assure you, I'm not perfect. I've also been the butt of Thor's stupid jokes and mockery for years on end, the mere spare prince to my kingdom. No one listens to me. I'm not like them. I never was, and I'm not sure why. Much like you, I say very little because I'm trying to be strong, trying to not give them any more fodder to ridicule me. I live in the shadows, just as you do.”

You met his piercing eyes this time, with your soft ones. Loki thought they looked so kind, that you looked so beautiful in this moment and he scolded himself for not reaching out to you sooner. He had always had so much affection for your, but he never dared come closer. You had built walls around yourself just as high and thick as his own, after all. Of course, It didn't fool him, and he always wanted to know what was behind them. “That's a shame,” you said, squeezing his hand. “How can they not see how incredible you are. How dare they treat such a beautiful person so badly?” You said in awe.

He peaked his eyebrows and smiled sweetly, his own eyes welling at your praise. Loki had always seemed dangerous and alluring to you, all angles and metal and leather and deep silky voice. You had never seen him so solicitous and vulnerable. You said carefully, “I...I realize, that this is a gift, you've given me. I don't take it for granted.”

“What do you mean?”

“Seeing you more...intimately. I'm grateful. It's good to not be alone for once.”

“You matter, darling. You are so much more than 'enough'. You are exquisite.” he said, kissing your forehead. “Now,” he said, conjuring a dagger with a dangerous glint in his eye, “Let have a bit of fun with Thor and his friends, shall we?”

@evelyn-rathmore @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @unlucky-number-13 @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @peaches1958 @sweetsigyn @ladyofthestayingpower @loz-3 @alexakeyloveloki @coldnique @acidcasualties @marcotheflychair @gigglingtiggerv2 @smolvenger @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @lokihiddleston @peachyjinx @thedistractedagglomeration @thenerdyoldersister @sarahscribbles @sailorholly @littlespaceyelf @eleniblue @mochie85 @infinitystoner @tripleyeeet @goblingirlsarah @mischief2sarawr @mischiefmaker615 @itsybitchylittlewitchy @holdmytesseract @viv-annelore

#loki fanfic #loki #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki comfort

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moonstruckme · 7 months

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So, I know you don't commonly really write for steddie, and you don't have to write this if you don't wanna. But what about Like, reader graduates hawkins high and goes of to college (eddie is probably still held back for his last year???) And when she left she was more on the quite side, soft color pallet, kinda stariotypical pastel sunshine character. And she comes back for the summer and she's like, more punk-ish??? Like a few more piercings, and same kinda quite personality but kinda different aesthetic?

I think you could do something similar with poly!marauders as well, where same thing happens but it's over the summer between years?

Idk, you dont even have to write it, I just have a stupid soft spot for this weird trope/character arc. Make sure to take care of yourself and have a lovely day!!!!!

I'm happy to write for any characters on my list, thanks for requesting gorgeous! Hope you're having a lovely day and taking care of yourself as well <3

Steddie x fem!reader ♡ 637 words

Steve and Eddie are scanning the crowd for you up until the very moment you come up to them. Even then, it takes Eddie a second to recognize you.

“Hey,” you say, tentative.

“Hey,” Steve says, stepping forward. “Shit, honey, come here.”

You grin, some of the apprehension easing from your features as you hug him.

“Shit,” Eddie agrees, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “Almost didn’t recognize you, sunshine.”

Sunshine might not even be the best nickname for you now. When you’d left for college last fall, you’d looked like the rainbow had befriended you personally. All pastels, colorful sweaters and flowy little skirts. Now, it’s like you’ve been plucked from a graphic novel. Your clothes are dark down to the shoes, with ripped black tights under your shorts and lace-up combat boots that, frankly, Eddie thinks might get a little hot in the Indiana summer. He wonders if you’d be amenable to him calling you his little bat. Or witchling, maybe? He’ll have to workshop it.

“You look so different.” Steve sounds positively flabbergasted, stepping back to take you in more fully. “I mean, not a bad different, I just—wow, it’s really…” Eddie snickers. In his opinion, you look far less like someone Steve Harrington would ordinarily date (the girl next door, preppy style, Nancy Wheeler clone) and more like someone he would (cool as fuck). Luckily for you, they both love you down to your ooey gooey core no matter how you present yourself.

“It’s a new look, babe, and it’s fucking sick,” Eddie summarizes. “Is this what college does to people? Maybe I should come visit.”

You roll your eyes at him, flushing faintly. Another pro of your new style: the pink of your face stands out ever-so-much-more brilliantly against your new dark palate.

“I’m serious, sweetheart,” Eddie goes on, delighting in watching your color change. “I need you to start coming to my shows so we can lure in your crowd. You’re too fucking cool for us now.”

Your shoulders start to come up around your ears, but Steve saves you, tucking you under his arm with a kiss to the top of your head. “She was always too cool for us,” he says. It’s the truth, and Eddie sends you a wink to make sure you know he knows it. “You look amazing, really. God, we’ve missed you so—is that a tattoo?”

Eddie all but lunges for you. “Where?”

“Here,” Steve says, stretching the collar of your shirt over your shoulder, where an inky design sits starkly against your skin. “Shit, this is so cool.” Eddie jostles for space, head squishing between yours and Steve’s to get a better look. “It really works for you.”

You smile bashfully. “Thanks.”

“Fuck me,” Eddie breathes, and you shiver pleasantly as his breath his your shoulder. “Actually, if I can get us to Steve’s in five minutes, would you top me right now? This is too fucking hot—oh, don’t look at me like that, Stevie boy. You know you like it too.”

“I do,” Steve says, giving Eddie a look that’s probably aiming for stern but only hitting fond as he tries to coax your face from his chest. “It looks great honey, when did you get this?”

Your voice is characteristically quiet, but a bit proud, when you say, “That one’s from a couple months ago. I got my first last November, though.”

“Your first?” Eddie’s gobsmacked. “How many are there? Wait, no, don’t tell me.” He grabs you by the legs, hoisting you over his shoulder. “I wanna find ‘em.”

“Eds, put me down!” You hiss in his ear, but your words are undercut by giggles. “Steve!”

“Sorry, but I’m kinda on board with this one,” Steve says with an apologetic shrug in your direction. He tosses Eddie the keys.

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togrowoldinv · 1 year

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Sexiest Man Alive

Chris Evans x Female Reader

You wake up to the news that your boyfriend has been named the Sexiest Man Alive.

Warnings: 18+ please! There’s a little bit of smut involved in this one

Note: So, this is just a quick something I wrote when I woke up to this news about Chris. Can’t believe he finally won. As he should. Enjoy!

Chris Evans Masterlist, Main Masterlist

When you wake up, it’s to the sound of your phone dinging over and over again. You worry it’s an emergency, so you reach over your sleeping boyfriend to get your phone.

What you see is just about everyone you know texting you about Chris and some photoshoot. You try to think of which one they mean and come up short. He’d gone to a few lately.

But when you open your messages it all makes sense.

“Chris, oh my god!” You say as you likely shake him awake.

“What is it, babe?” He asks with an adorable Bostonian morning voice.

“You’re the sexiest man alive,” you relay what the magazine says.

“Oh thanks,” Chris says.

“No, Chris you’re on People magazine,” you say, not thinking he understands that you aren’t just complimenting him.

“Yeah, baby. Did that come out today?”

“I guess so. Everyone is sending it to me and-“ you get distracted from your words as you start looking at the photos. And god, does he look good.

“Do you think it was a good choice? I don’t know because there are so many other guys,” Chris starts being a little bit insecure.

“Chris, my love, you are the sexiest man alive. The universe agrees. Do you need me to show you?” You ask him.

His cheeks blush a deep red as you toss your phone to the side and straddle him. He holds you as you lean down and kiss his lips. They’re soft like always and his moan of pleasure satisfies you.

“Y/n, please,” Chris says when your hips rock against his.

“I’ve got you, sexy,” you say and the two of you giggle at how it sounds. “Okay, maybe I’ll stick with not saying that one.”

“Sounds good, babe,” Chris agrees.

You show him instead of call him sexy as you move down his body to take his cock in your mouth. It’s a practiced action as you lick and suck him until he’s practically squirming underneath you.

“I’m going to cum, baby,” Chris says.

“Go on,” you say. And with that he reaches the ultimate pleasure with the shout of your name.

“Fuck, y/n. I need to be named the sexiest man alive every morning,” Chris jokes as you move back to lay next to him.

“I agree. I’m never going to stop looking at these photos,” you say as you grab your phone again.

“Well, let me at least help you out while you do,” Chris drops a kiss to your cheek before he moves to bury his face between your legs.

“Oh Chris, yeah it was definitely the gray in the beard that made them pick you,” you as you feel his beard brush against your thighs.

“You think so?” He asks with a cute smile.

“I do.”

“Guess I’ll have to grow it out again so the gray will show up again,” Chris says.

You don’t have time to agree before he dives into your core.

And you are out of this world excited about your boyfriend being named the sexiest man alive.

Tag List: @gracebutnotgraceful @i-wished-for-you-too @be-missed @mythosphere-x @hehehehannahthings @likefirenrain @mrswidowjohansson @natashasilverfox @rach2602 @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @raajali3 @sarahdonald87 @pandaxnienke @mrspeacem1nusone @wandas-slut-heart @patzammit @charmingprincess @randomwriter1021 @itbeila @notbornbutforged @blue-serendipityy @bookfrog242 @wizardofstories @karsonromanoff @adeela-j @natismywife @dumb-fawkin-bitch @sunshine-punk-witchling

#chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans comfort #chris evans #chris being an absolute sweetie pie #Chris Evans the sexiest man alive so true

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throneofsapphics · 8 months

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I loved “our little witchling” so much 🥹 Both of them being so protective but especially Manon was so cute like Manon was immediately so attatched. Would you think about doing a part two with what happens during the birth? Like they were already worried about pregnancy being dangerous what if something goes wrong (but of course is alright in the end) and Manon just struggling because there’s no villain to kill, no one did this, things just happen. And their reactions to meeting the baby? I really love how you write angst and fluff!

helpless

Manorian x Reader

(part one)

Summary: Reader has some birth complications

Warnings: blood, angst, not proofread

A/N: ah I’m so glad you liked it <3 thank you for the idea and request! you’re so kind. this can be read separate from part one!

Manon felt terror she hadn’t experienced in years. Not since … But your slowly paling face, the blood rushing from you, the healers swarming you. She wouldn’t let go of your hand, couldn’t. And snarled at everyone who tried to separate her from you. She couldn’t lose you - or this witchling, couldn’t. She wouldn’t let it happen. There’s nothing for her to destroy her, no revenge to be had, no enemy to destroy, and all she could do was have faith in the healers, and you. She’d never felt so helpless.

Dorian’s hand covered her own, an arm wrapped around her shoulder, but she couldn’t look at him. Your hand was slowly growing limp in hers, and one of the healers let out a slew of curses - quickly silenced by another.

She watched your breaths grow heavy, shaky, and slow.

Please, she begged, please hold on. And sent prayers to the three-faced Goddess, to silba, to any god or goddess she could think of.

Dorian couldn’t rip his eyes from you. His hand covered Manon’s, and his thumb brushed against the edge of your thumb. Cold, your skin was so cold.

He glanced towards the edge of the bed, to the bloody sheets, and swallowed harshly before fixing his gaze on your face.

His mind cycled through the books, everything he’d read…

“The baby,” He whirled, taking the small form from the healer’s arms - who let her go without a fuss, and crouched next to you, holding her, the little witchling, against your chest. Manon took your arm, folding it over the small form.

He brushed your hair away from your forehead - covered in sweat, before pressing a kiss to your brow.

He watched as your fingers twitched, tightening around the form, before your eyes slowly blinked open. The baby was silent, watching you with wide eyes. A smile crossed your face, and Dorian let out a slow breath.

“Y/n,” he called softly, but your attention didn’t leave the small child.

“Hello little one,” you cooed. The world was fuzzy around you, but you saw the small baby in your arms. The little witchling. Sweet and wide eyed. She has Dorian’s nose, and you could’ve sworn a bit of gold flickered in her eyes. Maybe you were hallucinating.

Something had gone wrong, that much you knew, and the buzz of healers around you and magic flowing into you told you that.

You don’t know how long it took, but eventually you felt Manon’s hand atop yours, helping hold the baby still, Dorian’s hand gently stroking your forehead, pushing sweaty hair away from your face.

You turned to them with a slightly dazed smile. “Hello.” Tears, tears lined Manon’s face and you frowned. “Nothing to cry over.” Manon choked back a sob, but squeezed your hand lightly. Her own tears, the sight over her upset, made a few fall down your own cheeks.

Dorian’s thumb brushed them away. “Nothing to cry over,” he repeated your words and you let out a weak laugh.

#manorian x y/n #manorian x reader #poly!manorian #poly!manorian x reader #poly!manorian x y/n #dorian havilliard x y/n #dorian havilliard x reader #manon blackbeak x reader #manon blackbeak x y/n #throne of glass fic #throne of glass imagine #not proofread

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profound-imagination · 3 months

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Little Witch - Ruhn Danaan - Part 2

A/N: It’s finally here, part two of Little Witch. This part is for @sweetshifter and @sweetshifter only.

T/W: Mentions of torture, nothing too descriptive but it’s there!

W/C: 1.7k

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ruhn was growing frustrated. He had no right to be. He’d caused this, his actions had brought about her silence again but gods how he missed her voice. It didn’t help that he had a sneaking suspicion she spoke freely to the others when he wasn’t around, she spoke to Ithan at the very least if not the others. Smug little Pup.

He couldn’t complain though, she’d stuck by him through every step of his ongoing healing. She tended his wounds, pulled him out of nightmares and cast little balls of light in her hands when the entire room was shrouded in his shadows as a result. She’d wept silently as he and Lidia told their story, wept for her older sister when she learned the truth of Lidia’s life. Lidia in turn had sobbed for her baby sister when she told her own story, casting those starry eyed gazes at him that he’d missed so much when he entered the story. She attended every therapy session with him, the ones she knew about anyway, and held his hand. His silent pillar of strength.

He could hear the thump thump thump of the music blaring through the house as he approached. Flynn must’ve been throwing another party, the guest list was small these days. The three found brothers who were now five if he counted Ithan and Tharion, which he did. Bryce and Hunt. Lidia and his Little Witch. No one heard the door open as he strolled in although he knew Dec knew he was there and approaching the house long before he first heard the music, yes, his brother was that good. He couldn’t help the grin that split his face when he took in the scene in the living room. Bryce perched on Hunt’s lap in the beaten up armchair, Dec with a laptop in one hand, beer in the other, Lidia and Tharion chatting on the sofa. Flynn was dancing on the coffee table, screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs, Ruhn’s Little Witch on his back, arms wrapped around Flynn’s neck, mouthing the lyrics along with him a brilliant smile on her face. “You’re going to drop her, Flynn!” Ithan was hissing from his seat, leant right forward ready to catch her when Flynn did drop her. “No I won’t, Pup! I’m completely in control-“ famous last words as Flynn’s foot slipped and he fell, Y/N let out a scream as she lost her grip on Flynn and a purely Fae protective possessiveness flared through Ruhn.

He snarled at his friend as he caught her, her doe eyes looking up at him, a brilliant smile on her face. “Hi there.” He purred at her and delighted in the colour that flared in her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his neck in a greeting hug and then untangled herself from him and pulled Flynn to his feet. But Ruhn knew in his bones, in his very soul, that the peace they had found wouldn’t last forever.

Tuesday started like any other day, you’d woken up with Ruhn curled around you like he always was, whether you’d fallen asleep in his bed or yours, you always woke up with his strong arms wrapped around you, your head tucked under his chin, his heat radiating into your back. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t spoken to him again. There was no doubt that you were irrevocably in love with this male but every time you opened your mouth to speak, to maybe tell him, the whole thing flashed through your mind again, the hurt. Losing him. The dress you never got to wear, the ball you never got to go to. Ruhn shifted pulling you from your thoughts and pulling you with him, turning you as he went.

He smiled up at you as you took in his beautiful face. “Good morning, Witchling.” He said, tightening his arms around your waist. You smiled at him and nuzzled your face into his neck. “What have you got planned today?” He asked into your hair, you shrugged in response. “I’m heading out with the guys, we got a tip off on the DreadWolves, Tharion, Ithan and Lidia are following up on one about Pollux, are you gonna be okay here by yourself?” He asked, lifting your head to look at him. You smiled and nodded at him and pointed to his bookshelf, he grinned, “I can’t wait to hear about which one you picked when I get home.”

You’d been pottering around the kitchen having decided to bake, Ruhn had once told you that lemon cake was his favourite, maybe if you couldn’t tell him you could show him how you felt. It was a good idea in theory, but standing in the kitchen covered in flour was proving the opposite, still you persisted. Studying the recipe so hard you almost didn’t hear the front door swing open. No, not swing, bang open. You turned, a sense of dread filling you at what you’d find behind you, still clutching the mixing bowl.

Devastatingly beautiful was the only way to describe Pollux Antonius as he filled the doorway, smiling a lover’s smile at you. “Well, I can see why Princey is keeping you locked away, a perfect mix of your two sisters, beautiful little thing.” He purred. Terror seized your body as he took a step towards you. “Your friends won’t make it back to you in time, Mordoc is giving them the runaround.” He took another step towards you, “Now, be a good girl, don’t run, it’ll only make this worse, don’t fight and I promise you won’t suffer for long.” He grinned. You finally convinced your limbs to unlock and move and you launched the mixing bowl at him and fled the room.

He was on you in two strides and pain lanced through you as he threw you into the wall. All the air left your lungs as you slid down the wall and rallied your power. You could do this, you could control the power, the power didn’t control you. Ruhn had been training you, so had Flynn and Dec, you could do this. “Ah ah ah” Pollux crooned as he knelt in front of you, “None of that nasty raw power of yours, sweetheart.” He sneered as he snapped a pair of cuffs onto your wrists, not Gorsian, no, these were the same cuffs the Witches had used. You screamed as they embedded themselves into your wrists and drained your power from you. “It’s funny how giving the Witches are now they’ve turfed your sister off of her throne.”

He dragged you by the wrists into the garden, your back scraping against the floor, towards the trees and hung you between two of them and began. You screamed until you could scream no more and he talked and talked, spitting his venom, apparently Ruhn had given him nothing but attitude during their time together. You smirked at that. Of course he had. “But you, hurting you,” he crooned, “hurts all of them, Princey, Lidia, the Pup, and when they come back and find you dead it will fracture them all so much their little rebellion will fall apart.” You mustered the little fight you had left and spat at him.

The pain got worse then as he started carving out parts of you. “I wonder if I cut out enough if I’ll find the source of the raw power you possess, take it for myself.” He asked as he brought his dagger to his mouth and licked the blood from the blade. You blocked him out then, his words and his ministrations. Ruhn, you thought of Ruhn. Of his kindness, his smile, his persistence! He never gave up on you, not once, he was still there, still fighting for your words, words you never gave him and now you never would. Blackness started creeping in the edges of your vision. Ruhn, Ruhn, Ruhn.

There was nothing but endless blackness and pain. Was this death? Was there really no peace? “Baby, no! Please, please come back!” Ruhn? You span, searching for him but he was nowhere. “Little Witch, can you hear me? Please come back, don’t leave me! You don’t get to leave me!” Was he crying? You could hear other things as well now, a wolf was howling, Ithan, that was Ithan. Flynn was shouting. “Shock her again!” Tharion, that was Tharion, “Hunt! Shock her again!” “I can’t! Not with Ruhn there!” A snarl, that was unmistakably Ruhn. “All of you move!” Declan. “Baby please wake up!”

You weren’t going to wake up, you were sure of it. “Goodbye Ruhn, I love you.” You weren’t sure how his mind speaking worked, he’d never tried it again after it had terrified you that first time. Then there was a primal roaring in your head. “No! You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to say goodbye, that love you me like this! You wake up and tell me that!” Ruhn growled into your head. “Hunt, shock her again, I’ll move.” Pain splintered through you as he let you go.

You gasped as your eyes flew open and your lungs burned. There was so much pain running through your body. Declan was knelt next to you, his healing magic working the best it could on the cuffs he was trying desperately to remove. Ithan sat at your back, supporting you, keeping you upright. Then there was Ruhn. “Don’t you ever scare us like that again!” He growled as he ran his hands through his hair. Blood, he was covered in blood, as if reading your thoughts he said “He’s gone, he’s dead, he won’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.” Lidia knelt next to Ruhn, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, this is all my fault.” It almost killed you to move your arm to grasp your sisters hand but you did it anyway and gave her a weak smile before looking back to Ruhn.

“I love you, you big idiot.” You croaked, and his face shuttered, fresh tears fell down his face. “I love you too, Little Witch.” You smiled at him weakly, “Let’s get you inside and healed up, then you can tell me about how much you love me.” He grinned down at you. You reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding Lidia’s and wiped his tears away, “Okay, Ruhn.”

#ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn x reader #ruhn danaan #ruhn crescent city #crescent city #house of sky and breath #house of flame and shadow #house of earth and blood #ruhn danaan crown prince of the valbaran fae

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hunny-beann · 5 months

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Desiderium II

Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

<- Part I

Note: Thank you so much to everyone who left such kind feedback on the first part of this series! <3

Warnings: A little bit of angst, mentions of death/disappearances, a crazy amount of pining

Word Count: 6,170

It had all started well over one thousand years ago, when you and the now so well known god of mischief were but babes at the mercy of the wild world around you.

You, the daughter of a powerful and well sought after witch named Karliah and an experienced healer named Tal, born and raised for eight years within the woods of Asgard until destiny laid herself bare before you and stole you away.

A witchling by blood, and a strong one at that, your parents had brought you up with grace and dignity in mind, each passing day a new lesson, and each moment spent a gift, though one that sadly ended up being in low reserve.

Eight blessed years of life spent with two loving parents, before it was traded for a still well-loved, but slightly more lonely life with your aunt, whose adoration did not make up for your sorrows, but did keep you from going down the wrong path upon your loss.

'Abandoned' they had called you when your dear aunt moved you out of the woods and into the palace to live alongside her, 'Left behind', they'd said.

But deep down, nearly everyone knew the truth of the matter.

Karliah was no weak woman, and Tal no coward. If neither had come for their daughter within the first few days of their sudden absence, then surely something had come for them, something strong enough to harm the most powerful witch in the known realms outside of those found within the royal family.

Most shuddered at the thought of this, and stuck to the tall tales of your improper abandonment instead.

'Poor witchling, left to die, so lucky to have been brought in by the merciful hands of her aunt, the palace teacher, educator of the princes and all other royal manners of children, be them visitors or otherwise.'

Oh, and of course, you.

From eight onward, you had lived within the palace walls, wandering from corridor to corridor and exploring every available nook and cranny until you had all but mapped it out within your mind, branding this once so foreign place as your home with a childlike fondness.

And you had not done such a thing by your lonesome, had you?

No, of course not, for everyone knew of your friendship with the feeblest prince, little Loki Odinson, the magic bearer, the one who used his mother's feminine magic, the seidr, over that which had been deemed stronger by the many men of Asgard.

The boy cared not for his image after all, he was just a child, the second born son of a god, and thus not the one who would have to worry about succeeding the throne himself someday.

No, that duty fell to Thor, more brawn than brains, but oh so sweet, though he notably lacked the vast intelligence of his brother.

It was as if someone had cut the perfect child in twain and created some hilariously different duo to see what the Allfather might do.

And though he loved them both, it was clear that in Odin's eye, the brawn came before the brains nearly every single time.

So, while Thor had his expectations laid out before him upon his birth, Loki had spent his days wandering the halls with you, the little witchling and her trickster prince, bound together by adventure and some childlike wonder found only in the eyes of those who had yet to learn but craved so desperately to do so.

The two of you were as close as close could get, tugging each other along by the hand, whispering secrets into one another's ears, every day a new opportunity to amuse yourselves in spite of the boredom that seemed to surround the palace.

Though, notably, you seemed to be the most interesting character of all, and perhaps that had been what had drawn your trickster prince to you in the first place.

Your mother's daughter to be sure, just as she'd had prophetic visions, ones containing the future in bursts that she often controlled, you had something rather similar, though far less easily grasped.

You, Asgard's little witchling, had prophetic dreams randomly while deep within your slumber, something that you had learned shortly after taking up residence within the palace.

It made you miss your mother tremendously to have her powers, and you resented the lack of control that you had over them, but even so, as each passing dream came true, you found suddenly that you were far more useful to those around you.

You were able to say which one of two dinner options might be best for upcoming guests based upon visions you would see weeks prior to their arrival, and on more than one occasion, you had avoided being caught by straying away from the wrong hallways while on your adventures with your dear friend after having had a particularly useful dream a night or two beforehand

Loki, of course, so heavily fixated on his intense study of magic, was entranced by this naturally inherited power of yours, and would gladly spend hours hearing you talk about your visions, no matter how mundane.

Except after one dark evening, he found that you no longer wished to.

You had woken up pale, a sure sign of a vision the night before, one that the god of mischief, thirteen years old at the time, knew all too well.

He had greeted you enthusiastically, something that was not so uncharacteristic of him at that time, only to find that you did not wish to talk about what you had seen.

Something bad, he'd realized with a start, having never considered before the downside to a power such as yours.

Sure, your mother had been able to control hers in some ways, but yours could appear almost as nightmares to you, uncontrollable and painful, because in the end, waking up offered little relief.

It could still come true after all, more than likely would too.

Not a very fair situation for such a young witch to endure on her own.

So, he decided, you would not have to.

And thus, a promise had been made.

Under the blooming flowers of one of many beautiful trees in the queen's garden, you and the god of mischief locked your pinkies together in fealty.

You would no longer hide your visions, no matter how frightening, from your prince, and in turn, he would never lie to you, at least not on purpose.

It was a childish way to appease one another, but in the end, that promise was what ended up driving you onward far into the future.

In fact, that promise was why you had ended up in the Avenger's Tower in the first place, lying on the floor with an audience of heroes watching as the man who had once been your closest friend rushed toward you, falling to his knees close enough that he could touch you if only he reached out.

You had missed his touch more than that of anyone else throughout your many years of solitude, a fact which gnawed at you slightly when you thought about your aunt and the wonderful hugs she had once given, until the final one, which had oh so sadly been in farewell.

Still, even she could not top the feeling of being held by Loki Laufeyson, though back when he had still done so, he had been Loki Odinson to you, and to everyone that knew him.

It had been Loki Odinson who had danced with you at nearly every social event, Loki Odinson who had mastered the art of sneaking into your room each night, Loki Odinson who had held your hand sweetly since childhood as you'd wandered through paths yet untraveled by your feet, and Loki Odinson who had kissed you beneath that same tree which the two of you had made that binding promise under.

You could only hope, as you looked up at the man before you, that Loki Laufeyson was not so terribly different.

You were unsure if you could take another loss, after all, not after having been alone for so very long, yearning to see the face of the one you once loved, silently praying that he might find you somehow, back in that old cabin where the two of you had carved your names in your youth.

Over your one hundred or so years there, you had all but traced that carving raw, remembering what it had been like to have the god of mischief at your side.

There was no longing like that which you felt for Loki, and of that you were certain.

Even as he stared at you with such a wild expression that you almost wondered if he had gone mad at the sight of you after so many years, perhaps having long since thought you gone from him.

It would not be so strange, after all, that you would have died in the time that passed. As far as your dear Loki knew, you were but a witchling, your immortality fragile and preserved almost entirely by the safe life that you once had led in the palace alongside him until your "disappearance".

You almost shuddered to think about explaining all of that to him now, and wondered briefly in the back of your mind if any part of him blamed you for your sudden absence.

Had his father told him of all that had transpired? Had Thor? Or had your dear prince of Asgard been left to wonder what had become of you, assuming himself abandoned at your hand?

As you gazed up at his still so perfect features, taking in their persistent familiarity, you found that you could not tell.

That is, until he spoke up, voice husky and thick with what almost sounded like grief, or the impending weight of tears.

"Starlight?"

He repeated as if in disbelief, the familiar name causing you to freeze up instantly.

You stared, unable to move nor speak.

The entire room fell silent as everyone watched on in shock at the scene unfolding before them.

There, on the floor, having just fallen out of some magical hole in the wall, was a woman. The very same woman, in fact, that this small group of avengers had just seen smiling within Loki's hellishly realistic dream as the duo lovingly lived out their life together.

A life that had never existed.

A life that, according to the adopted son of Odin himself, never would.

Except he'd never anticipated this, had he?

No, they could see his surprise in the way he stared down at you, his hands hovering just inches away as if he were afraid you would turn to dust before his very eyes if he even dared touch you.

And maybe you would, it was hard to tell when one did not know, after all.

Hard to tell, indeed.

The silence persisted for several long moments, before finally, you spoke up.

"I-I found you,"

You began, a soft smile gracing your lips, though it notably did not erase the obvious exhaustion from your eyes,

"It worked."

Loki frowned at that, his eyebrows knitting with confusion as he remained on his knees before you, the god of mischief, so besotted and enamored by your presence that he would live upon his knees once more, for however long you so required.

A surprising sight, to be sure, at least for all who bore witness to it from the outskirts.

Though notably, you did not seem to pay it any mind, as if his almost pleading body language was a normal part of speaking with him that you had come to know so well.

Loki reached forward hesitantly, his fingers outstretched as if he were about to place his hand upon glass, and with another tired smile, you did the same, placing your smaller fingertips against his with a sense of ease that had the entire room outside of yourselves wondering what could possibly be going on in front of them.

Who were you? What were you doing here? How had you gotten here? And why was the god of mischief himself looking at you as if he'd seen a ghost?

Whatever answers they were seeking though, they did not find quite yet, not in the still pervasive quiet of that room you all inhabited.

Still, all watched on with immense interest as Loki's eyes widened at your touch, and he withdrew as if stung, expression morphing into one of confusion, pain, and longing all at once, all of these being emotions that few in this room had ever seen him experience before.

"What are you doing here?"

Loki asked cautiously as he lowered his hand back down to his side, watching with sharp eyes as you did the very same with a casualness that nearly made him shiver.

If this was not truly you, then it was a damn good copy, one that rivaled any of his own creation in the history of time itself.

You let out a shaky sigh, your smile somehow growing more exhausted each time that you wore it upon your face.

"I needed to find you. I know that it's been a long time, and that you probably won't have any idea what I'm talking about when I say this, but I made a promise, and I am bound not only by my word, or the title I was given, but also by my care for you to ensure that I keep it, no matter what."

You looked down toward the floor, clearly expecting Loki to overwhelm you with questions, having long since anticipated his reaction to a moment such as this one, especially since it had been so very long since your promise had been made...

But to your surprise, he only had one question to ask, one that had the entire room buzzing with quiet conversation and confusion, and your eyes alight with utter shock.

"You've had a vision?"

He asked gently, tone low and concerned, eyes seeking yours and clearly finding the answer he was looking for there within in instant.

You nodded anyway.

Loki turned immediately to the small crowd standing behind him, though he was most notably looking for Tony, his expression pleading for the very first time since he had been imprisoned within this realm.

"I apologize for the suddenness of my request, Stark, but might you have some available space for her to stay?"

He asked quietly, as if trying to keep their discussion private in spite of the crowd watching on curiously.

"I believe this conversation may take us some time..."

He trailed off, thankfully having his question answered before he had to elaborate any further.

"Uh yeah sure, there's an empty room two doors down from yours, have at it..."

Tony trailed off himself after a few moments, before finally he continued,

"Just uh, keep me updated, okay? I try to make it a habit to actually know the people who are staying on my property."

Loki offered the man a rather firm nod in response to his request, moving into a kneeling position and offering his hand to you, his fingers outstretched and his palm upturned,

"Can you stand, starlight?"

He murmured, and immediately you nodded, grasping onto the god's hand and pulling yourself to your feet just as he did the same, allowing the audience to truly see you for the very first time, though it was your clothing far more than your physical form that garnered their attention.

The cloak around your shoulders was a deep and stunning green adorned with familiar gold accents, though on the inside, it was dark and lined with what somehow looked to be a billion little gold stars lighting up a night sky. It was almost as if they twinkled even as you stood still, wrapping the fabric tighter around your neck as everyone seemed to stare.

"Follow me." Loki said quietly, letting go of your hand after a brief moment of hesitance, and though you nodded, taking a few short steps forward just as the god began to make his way toward the door, you did not make it nearly as far as he, instead having your eyes roll back suddenly before you pitched forward without warning, the sensation of a single strong arm wrapping around your waist from behind as voices sounded from all around you being the last sensation you felt before darkness closed in.

The next thing that you knew, you were waking up in an entirely unfamiliar room, in an equally unfamiliar bed with a soft groan of confusion and pain, your head throbbing and your bones aching in spite of your still relatively young age (as far as Asgardians went, that is).

Immediately, your eyes landed upon the god sitting in a chair beside you, his gaze unwavering yet somehow almost casual as he took in the sight of you once more.

How long had it been since he had seen you last? Over one hundred years at least, that was to be sure.

You gazed back at him, a pained groan leaving you just before you spoke,

"What happened?"

You asked, hearing the god of mischief hum from where he sat before he pushed a glass of water in your direction.

You took it eagerly, beginning to drink it in small and controlled sips.

"You over exerted yourself."

Loki said simply,

"Whatever it is that you did to get here nearly took every ounce of energy that you had."

His tone was disapproving as he spoke, but you chose to ignore it in favor of focusing a little bit too hard on your water in an effort to avoid him.

This was harder to do than you'd thought it would be, seeing him after all this time.

It didn't make it hurt any less, not even in spite of all the years that had passed, and you struggled not to stare at the way his hair still fell the same, and his clothing still looked so similar.

It did not appear as though either of you had changed in the slightest, and yet you knew for a fact that such a thing was not true.

"We both know that you were taught better than to risk your health for something foolish."

Loki said, his tone stern but his voice soft, as if he hadn't yet decided how he was supposed to address you.

You sighed in response, looking away at the subtle reminder of who exactly it had been that had worked so tirelessly to teach you better.

You did not dare allow yourself the opportunity to wonder what had become of her.

"We do."

You replied casually, though your tone betrayed your nerves, as did your fidgety body language.

"But this is far from foolish, I'm afraid."

You all but murmured, watching as your old friend leaned closer, urging you silently to continue,

So, you did.

"I-..."

You trailed off, briefly giving up before finally starting over again.

It was so hard to explain, all of this, all that had happened, but Loki deserved to know the truth, and if no one else would tell him, and you had made a promise, then who were you to deny him the knowledge that was so rightfully his?

"Lo..."

You trailed off a second time as you watched the god of mischief flinch at the once familiar nickname, immediately causing you to clear your throat and try again.

"Loki, there is something that I have to tell you, and I want you to know that it was never my decision to keep it from you for this long. When I found out, I searched and searched all over for you, but Odin found me first, and there was nothing that I could do but flee..."

Loki looked down at you, confusion etched into each of his features,

"I do not understand."

He spoke,

"What does Odin have to do with the promise you once made to me? In what manner has he worked his way into this?"

You frowned, unable to meet the gaze of the being who had once been your best friend, and then almost so much more, as you finally spoke.

"Loki, Odin has everything to do with this, because it was he who banished me and made it impossible for me to find you for so long. He saw me as I was searching the palace for you, and could tell from my complexion alone that I'd had a vision..."

You trailed off for a moment, but Loki motioned for you to continue, his body language reminding you of the way that he had once so eagerly listened to the tales of your visions, his eyes always wide and his body always leaned in toward yours, as if he feared that he might miss something if he could not make out every little syllable and each individual pause.

Oh, how you missed those times with him.

Yet even so, instead of lingering upon those thoughts as you so wished to, you carried on.

"He could tell that I'd had a vision, yet when I would not tell him of what, and I insisted that I speak to you instead, he seemed to know immediately what I had witnessed, in spite of how hard I had tried to hide it."

Loki raised a questioning brow at you, his gaze still unwavering,

"So he knew what you saw and did not approve of you telling me?"

You nodded, but it seemed that Loki was not yet finished,

"Alright, that's easy enough to understand, but what does any of that have to do with this promise we made to one another? How did his knowing of your vision stop you from telling me of it for so long? And what could have possibly consumed you to waste so much energy on finding me just to keep your childhood promise after all of these years?"

You flinched slightly at the barrage of questions, but did your best to respond,

"I know this is complicated, but you have to understand, Loki, Odin never wished for you to know, and he was willing to do whatever he needed to in order to ensure that you didn't."

Loki sighed, dropping his head into his hand,

"And what exactly was it that you saw then, starlight? Do you intend upon enlightening me anytime soon?"

He was growing cross with you now, in that very same way he once had with his teachers when they did not give him the answers to his questions as directly as he wished.

He was still so hungry for knowledge, and you could not help but wonder what trouble that had gotten him into throughout your many years apart.

You placed your hand upon his, palm grazing the back of his hand more out of habit than anything else, though you did not move it even when he tensed, desperately wanting to believe that he still found something soothing within your presence, and that you had not lost him entirely, not when he still owned so very much of your heart and soul.

"I am going to tell you, Loki, why would I come here just to break my promise?"

You reasoned gently, watching as your dear god of mischief simply scoffed lightly before looking toward the ground, never one to admit it when he had overreacted.

"What I saw in my vision was no small revelation, and I want you to know that keeping it from you for so very long was never my intention."

You began, eyes growing desperate as you took both of the god's hands into your own, causing him to look up toward you once more,

"I was banished, Loki, never would I have chosen to betray you so otherwise, and I pray that you know that."

The god sitting before you pulled his hands away from yours at that, eyes growing weary, as if he was no longer certain that he could trust you.

It nearly shattered your heart to feel his touch be ripped away from yours after so very long of being alone, of missing him each and every day, but even still you did not reach back out for him again in that moment.

"Betray me?"

He whispered, his tone gaining a slight edge to it as he spoke,

"What do you speak of, witchling?"

He hissed, and you were quick to respond,

"My prince, you do not understand, what I am saying is that I never would have chosen to betray you by waiting as long as I have to tell you what I am about to. You have always been dear to me, and I have felt guilt eat away at me for all of these years that I have allowed this lie to endure in spite of my knowledge, even if I could not risk helping it until now."

Loki sighed, motioning for you to continue,

"Just get on with it then, I desire not to be kept in such suspense regarding my own life, starlight."

You took a deep breath, nodding as you began, trying your best to maintain eye contact even when it got hard.

"Loki, over one hundred years ago, I had a vision of some event far in the future, wherein you sought out your father's treasures, and learned a most difficult truth."

You watched as the being sitting in front of you stiffened slightly, his gaze widening as he slowly shook his head back and forth.

"No."

He whispered, and you watched on in confusion as he continued,

"No, no, it cannot be. You cannot possibly know. My sole comfort throughout all of these years was that you had no way of knowing..."

He carried on, and hesitantly, you reached forward to take his hand once more, and this time, he simply stared down at where you were touching him, as if not entirely believing your touch to be real anymore.

You offered him a look of deep compassion and sympathy, before finally you continued,

"You are not Odin's true son, Loki, but a-"

"Monster."

He cut you off, voice still quiet and body all too still as he stared down at your enjoined hands.

You shook your head,

"No Lo, not a monster, that is not what I-"

"My knowledge of your vision has come far too late, my dear."

Loki said gravely, a deep and humorless chuckle leaving him as he finally looked you in the eyes again, allowing you to see the tears that had built up there in spite of how hard he had tried to hold them at bay.

To the untrained eye perhaps, they may not have been so obvious, but even after all of these years, you knew his eyes far too well to not notice that they were growing wet.

Your brow creased in confusion and concern as you took his other hand in yours once more, squeezing both the way you always had before when he had experienced some great emotional suffering.

"Whatever do you mean, my prince?"

You asked gently, watching as Loki's expression morphed into one of so many emotions that you could scarcely name them all in the brief moment that they flashed upon his face.

Grief, sorrow, anger, longing, disgust, guilt. So many things to feel, and none of them good.

He continued,

"I'm afraid that what you have revealed is a truth long known to me, sweet starlight."

He said quietly, and instantly you understood, your expression falling as sadness overcame you, not only over you being too late to help him avoid further suffering, but over the way that he so clearly felt about himself.

He thought what he was to be a monster, something to be feared and hated as if it meant a thing.

You squeezed his hands again, urging him to look into your eyes, and drawn in by a habit he had once believed to be long since forgotten, he did, seeking out something within you that you were unsure of, but desperately wished to give.

"Loki, I am so very sorry that I was too late to tell you the truth. I studied so long to find some way to get to you, but I could not risk trying anything until I felt more certain of what might work for fear of Odin finding me."

The god before you regarded your words with utter shock, but you simply smiled in response,

"I will explain all when the time comes, sweet prince, but for now, please just know that you are no less Loki to me now than you ever were, nor were you any less Loki when I learned the truth. You are Loki Laufeyson, or even Loki Odinson if you so choose, and you are a crowned prince of Asgard and the god of mischief. No lineage could ever change that or take it away from you. You are no different now than you were back when you did not know."

Loki regarded you with brief confusion, as if he had never anticipated for you to feel such a way, or maybe for anyone to for that matter, and then suddenly, his eyes were squinted, his mind obviously deep in thought.

You had no doubt that this was partially in effort to change the subject to one he was far more readily prepared to discuss, but you did not tell him that you knew this.

He would talk when he was ready, if he ever truly was.

"Hold on a moment,"

He began,

"I understand that you did not explain all, but there is one thing that I cannot ever see making any sense."

He continued, eyes searching yours for the answer to a question that was yet unasked.

You shrugged,

"Lay it on me, Lo, I'm an open book."

Loki bristled a bit at the nickname, but said nothing, likely all too aware of how much of a habit it was for you, even after all of these years.

To hear it fall from your lips so easily though...

He distracted himself with his question immediately to stop that thought where it began.

"I know that you wished to keep your promise to me, that much is clear, but you spoke earlier of you having done so not for your word, and not for your title, but for care."

You nodded, cheeks reddening slightly at the memory, though the god sitting before you was clearly far too deep in thought to consider the connotation of your words as heavily as he otherwise may have.

"Your care is easy to understand, and your word is another worthy mention when it comes to reasons you may have worked so tirelessly to find me, but I do not understand what you mean by your title. What title is a witchling so bound by that would keep her from breaking her fealty to me? Why would you say such a thing at all?"

You looked away, unable to meet your old friend's gaze even as his eyes bore into you,

"Well..."

You murmured, eyes meeting his once more before you quickly looked away again, hoping somehow, that even after all of these years apart that the silence might speak for you the way that it always had with him.

He had been all but capable of reading your mind once, and who was to say that such a thing ever truly went away?

You watched as Loki's eyes widened by a millimeter, a slight inhale alerting you to some subtle realization that had just entered through the back of his mind, one that he had not been at all prepared to consider, but that made far too much sense for his liking, particularly as he considered all that had happened to you further.

His hand found the underside of your jaw, and without warning, he tilted your head upward, forcing you to look him in the eyes, allowing you to see all of the emotions building within his green irises.

Confusion, anger, frustration, but most of all, disbelief, though you could tell that the latter of the four was quickly fading.

"Starlight, did you tell Odin what you saw within your vision that day?"

He asked sternly, and, swallowing thickly, you shook your head, watching as the god of mischief's eyes widened even further.

"No."

He said matter of factly, repeating your answer as if it might make it easier for him to process what he was slowly coming to realize,

"You- You never told him what you saw."

His tone was incredulous as he spoke, his expression incredibly hard to read as he stood, using the grip you still had on his hands to tug you up alongside him.

His eyes found yours once more now that you were standing together, his head shaking back and forth almost as if he were in utter disbelief of what you were saying.

"And you know what he did, don't you? What you've become?"

He asked gently, and slowly, hesitantly, you nodded, watching as the prince of Asgard chuckled from above you,

"What a surprise you've been at every step of the way, starlight."

He muttered, leaning his head down against yours like he used to for the briefest of moments before he pulled away, clearing his throat slightly as he did.

"Well, now that we have some of those things clarified, what do you say we give the others a real introduction, hmm?"

You nodded after a moment of contemplation, moving to wrap your cloak around your shoulders once more, just barely missing the way that Loki's eyes shone at the familiar sight of it, his hands briefly reaching out toward you before he stopped himself and walked across the room to open the door for you.

From there, he guided you out into a long hallway, maneuvering the two of you about until finally, you reached a rather large common area, where you suddenly realized with a start that everyone from before was waiting.

Thor smiled at you from where he sat on the couch, the apologetic edge to it very nearly causing your heart to weep.

There were few who deserved to feel guilty over what had happened to you less so than Thor, who had only been doing what he was told.

You would have to speak with him privately soon, to thank him for having caught you when you fell forward earlier on in the day, if nothing else.

Though, you suspected that the two of you would have plenty to talk about beyond that.

The room was silent as you and the god at your side entered quietly, all eyes on the two of you as Loki cleared his throat slightly before finally speaking.

"So, as many of you have likely surmised, this is the witchling that was present in the portion of my dream that I showed earlier."

At that, you shot a glance toward the asgardian beside you, briefly wondering what on earth he could have possibly been referencing, when he brought the topic back to the discussion at hand, successfully distracting you for the time being.

"That said, she is no illusion or dream, nor is she some spirit come back to haunt me."

You watched as the man who had granted you permission to utilize a room earlier groaned at that, slapping a wad of green paper into the hand of a blonde woman who sat next to him, who simply grinned subtly.

Still, Loki paid this no mind, and continued after a brief pause,

"She is very real, and though both of us are rather confused, we are working together to figure out what exactly is going on here."

At that, a multitude of hands shot up, causing Loki to glare at those who had raised them until they begrudgingly lowered them once more.

"We will happily inform you of all that we know in just a few moments,"

He said pointedly, causing a few of the people who had been so eager to ask questions before to roll their eyes at his dramatics, though they appeared to be fairly used to them by now based upon their reactions.

"But before we get to that, I would like to introduce you properly."

Loki sighed deeply, casting you a sidelong glance of what almost appeared to be sympathy before he finally continued,

"Starlight, meet my... coworkers of sorts, the avengers."

He began, and you gave a small wave to the people in the room, smiling the tiniest bit when a few friendly looking faces waved back, some even eagerly.

Still, that almost peaceful atmosphere was clearly not meant to last forever, because after Loki's next sentence, well...

"Avengers, meet starlight, the Aesir goddess of compassion, mercy, and fidelity."

All hell broke loose.

Desiderium Tag List: @princess-ofthe-pages

Loki Tag List: @mischief2sarawr

#loki x reader #loki x yn #loki x female reader #loki x fem reader #loki marvel #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki odinson #loki fanfiction #loki series #loki laufeyson #loki x reader angst #loki angst #fic: desiderium #desiderium

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cherryc1nnam0n · 1 year

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Cherry's Favorites

Contains NSFW, blood, dark themes and more, just my personal favorites, many characters and topics

Jim Hopper NSFW headcanons

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The Stains | Eddie Munson

Fake Plastic Love | Fwb!Eddie Munson

Meet the Munsons | Stepbrother!Eddie Munson

This is Wrong | Stepbrother!Eddie Munson

Man of the Month | Loki

Spell gone wrong | Loki

Tale as Old as Time | Jotun!Loki

Lokitty

Haunted | Brahms Heelshire

Hellfire Baby | Eddie Munson

Dungeons and (pink) dragons | Hellfire baby part 2

The "yes" policy | Eddie Munson

Affection | Eddie Munson

Loki's Di-Llama

Good Neighbors | Steddie

Clandestine Fucks | Loki

Toy Cars and Princess Tea Parties | Steddie

Three Men, a Little Lady a Baby and Steve | Eddie Munson

Joseph Quinn horny blurb

The Witchling and the God | Witch!Reader x Avenger!Loki

As the world burns | Fem!Reader x Eddie Munson

Dusk | Joseph Quinn

Porn | Perv!Stepbro!Eddie Munson

Boobie | Joseph Quinn

Period Sex | Fem!Reader x Eddie Munson

Morning sex | Fem!Reader x Billy Hargrove

More boobies | Joseph Quinn

Save me | Brahms Heelshire

Letters to my (future) love | Fem!Reader x Billy Hargrove

Summer | Pregnant!Fem!Reader x Billy Hargrove

Billy as a father

The boys next door | Steddie x Reader

Breeding kink with Eddie Munson

Goofy Eddie during sex

It happened one night in recess | Omegaverse Eddie Munson x Reader

Steddie x Reader

Eye contact | Steddie x Reader

Like the wind | Fem!Reader x Billy Hargrove

Having sex in the school's bathroom | Eddie Munson

Spooning with Eddie

Eddie eats you out from the back any chance he gets

Sex tape | Modern!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A new dungeon | Modern!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Waiter Eddie

Hopper loves pussy

Best boys (Steve, Eddie and Billy) with pets

I'll bite your dick | Eddie Munson

Get in line | Best boys x Reader

Eddie is strong boi

High sex drive | Joseph Quinn

Somno | Fem!Reader x Eddie Munson

Exhibitionism | Steddie x Reader

Morning, my love | Eddie Munson

Squirting and making a mess with Eddie

Riding Eddie's face

Eddie loves pussy

Falling asleep on him | Joseph Quinn

Fucked up | Drunkstepbro!Eddie x reader

New Year's Eve with Joseph Quinn

Watching You | Modern!Eddie Munson x FEM!Reader

Lose yourself | Eddie Munson x Reader

What is this? | Eddie Munson

Pegging Eddie

Stepbro!Eddie <3

More Stepbro!Eddie <3

Sudden dominance | Joseph Quinn

Dom!Nasty!Eddie

Steve's balls are his weak spot

Stepbro!Steve let's Billy fuck you

Best boys spoil reader

Joseph and pregnant reader

Harringrove x Reader

Eddie can't refuse a dare

Sleepy sex with Joe

Headboard | Eddie Munson

Are you leaving? | Eddie Munson x Reader

Vampire!Eddie

She's got the look | Eddie Munson x Plus size!Reader

In here loser | Steddie x Reader

Sweets | Steddie x Plus Size!Reader

Disfrutando | Brahms Heelshire x Reader

A crying shame | Prince Paul x Fem!Reader

Brahms' mommy kink

Mirror sex with Joseph Quinn

Pregananant reader with Joseph Quinn

Do Ya Wanna Taste It? | Eddie Munson

Inked | Eddie x Reader x Punk!Steve

Watch me | Joseph Quinn

Goofy Steve during sex

Babysitting for Steve Harrington

This whole masterlist has a chokehold on me

Steddie getting off thinking about reader

Dinner for Three | Steddie x reader

Gamer!Eddie x AFAB!Reader

Bad Habit | Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader

Bad idea | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Cute poly Steddie x Reader

Steve's development

667 notes · View notes

targaryen-realness · 1 year

Text

Witchling Chapter 1

Title: Witchling

Pairing: Osferth x Druidess!Reader

Warnings: Canon depiction of violence, mention of slavery, wounds and scars, magic, historical innacuracy (sorry medieval Scotland is not my specialty), talk about faith and christianity. The reader is fem but there is no physical description except for the fact she is a scot from the Highlands.

Summary: As they are riding away from Winchester, Osferth and Lord Uthred’s group come across a mysterious woman. She needs help but the power within her is obvious. Captivated, Osferth hopes she will stay, but as Uhtred asks her to travel with them, he cannot help but wonder what is going on in his lord’s head.

Life with Lord Uhtred was many things but it was never boring. Osferth was watching the mountains unfurl before him as he rode toward an unknown place. They were once again leaving Winchester for the north of Wessex and once again he didn’t really know why they were departing. That was something he got used to, with time, and the instability of this lifestyle had almost become charming. He was getting tired though, his back stiff, and his ass sore from the riding. It didn’t help that it rained all day and that in addition to the pain in his body he was now soaked to the bone. He could hear Finan speaking or screaming in the background, he didn’t know anymore. Uhtred had no intention of stopping apparently, because now they were galloping through the fields at great speed. His vision was bad to the point he could not distinguish anything that was a metre away and only the sounds of the other horses were putting him in the right direction. He was hoping, for the love of god, that they were approaching their destination and that soon he would be in a warm place, with warm food, a good drink and if possible dry clothes.

“Why did you stop!” screamed Finan, finding himself in the same situation as Osferth. He was going to protest too but then he saw it. Saw her. You. At this very moment, he was sure of one thing, he will never forget this very moment. The rain was still pouring but Osferth thought it was now slower, so slow that the time had stopped. God had sent them an angel under the form of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. You had appeared from the river, soaked to the bone, your white dress glued to your body so much he could see your skin without trouble underneath the thin fabric. Your skin was glistening with water, your hair clad to your forehead and on your neck. But what struck him the most was your eyes, like a pit of darkness, so deep he could drown in it. He felt unable to look away, like he was staring into the void. He watched as Uhtred stepped on the ground getting off his horse and started to walk toward her. He wanted to protest somehow, to tell his lord to stay away but he could not. He watched her say something, in a language he could not understand, watched your face transform in fear and somehow rage.

“Well lady? What are you doing here on your own?” said the lord. Osferth could hear the smirk in his voice.

-A fucking Scot.

-Very far away from home.

-Did you get lost, little girl?

-Not so little if you want my opinion”, one of them concluded, and Osferth suddenly had enough.

“Stop it. She is obviously scared! And stop ogling her like that!

-Oh baby monk, what has gotten into you?”

He didn’t answer, getting himself off his horse as well, finally touching the ground. His legs felt weak and as he approached you he felt his trust in his own body diminishing with every step. By some miracle he succeeded in taking off his coat, with the firm intention of covering you with it. He could not explain the feeling that overcame him the more he was approaching you. You looked even more splendid up close, an ethereal creature that came out of the world of the faes, a world of legend. Dangerous creatures, creatures of the devil for sure. But he swore as your eyes fell on him for the first time that you could drag him into hell right now and he would not object. Your skin was glistening with water, droplets falling from the tip of your lashes like little pearls. You looked like you were crying. He was following with his eyes the rain sliding along your skin, the way the water caressed the skin of your lips. He was in trouble. He could not help but follow another, along your neck, till it reached your breasts. He could see them very clearly. He should have had the decency to look away, to close his eyes, but he didn’t. He was in big trouble.

“Osferth?”

It was Sihtric's voice that got him out of his trance. He took his coat and placed it gently on your shoulders, careful not to scare you, but you seemed good with it.

“Thank you” you said, surprising everyone.

“She speaks!

-Can you believe that”

You seemed to recoil on yourself, pulling the cloak closer. You must have been freezing, now he was able to see it, the goosebumps on your frozen skin.

“She is gonna die from the cold.” he said, not really expecting an answer.

“Let her die here then. She is trouble”

It wasn’t a man’s voice, and just by hearing it, Osferth felt anger course through his body.

“No one asked” Lord Uhtred answered to Skade, the blond witch still on her horse, tied up to the one of lord Uhtred .

He saw you move a little, your head straightening and your eyes falling on the witch. He saw your expression change, the look in your eyes getting darker. You knew she was danger, and not only because she just told everyone you should be left to die in the cold.

“What is your name, girl?” Lord Uhtred asked, getting closer. Osferth had no other choice but to let him pass, and he regretted it instantly when he watched his lord now toe to toe with you. You were watching him intently.

“Seer. That's all I’ve been called lately.”

Your voice was melodious, with a heavy gaelic accent, but the words were well articulate and understandable. They sounded even better when you said them.

“Are you a seer?

-Not really.

-Are you a witch then?

-I am nothing”

It almost broke his heart, the way you said this, because it sounded so real in your voice. He watched his lord take your face in one of his hands.

“We are taking her with us. She’ll ride with Finan.”

He could hear the almost loud “yes” form the man in question before he had to return to his horse. The disappointment that you were not riding with him was obvious but at least he will be able to watch your back for the duration of the ride. Small consolation when he thought about having your arms wrapped around him. A greater price for sure.

“We need to shelter for the night” was all Uhtred said before kicking his horse into action.

They found a hin after another hour of riding. The rain had stopped but now they were left with a strong wind that chilled their bones. He felt an immediate relief as they stepped inside. They looked like a bunch of outlaws for sure. Not trust worthy of any hin keeper or even brothel owners. He saw all the eyes turn toward them the moment the door closed behind. He even saw a man draw a dagger slowly which made him take a step back.

“We are looking for a place to sleep and to get some food.

-We are not looking for trouble” said a man, probably the owner, stepping from the small crowd.

“We are not either. We have silver of course”

That was enough for the crowd to return to their business, mostly their drink and plates. Uhtred made a sign to follow and they all did, even you. Finan had his hand on your shoulder to keep you walking and it was only now Osferth realised:

“You are not wearing shoes!”

You looked at him then at your feet, and back at him.

“You’re only finding out now” said Uhtred, mocking him.

“He can’t take his eyes off her though.

-Probably not her feet he is looking at”

Finan and Sihtric laughed loudly, taking you with them, leaving him deep in embarrassment. You didn’t say anything during your meal, seated next to lord Uhtred, you were swallowing spoons full of broth.

“So where are you from exactly?

-And why were you on that road”

You looked around, careful, and your eyes darted a bit too long on the blond witch. You finally settled them back on your plate.

“Slave traders”

The silence at the table was heavy but you kept going.

“I was on my way back to my home. When my brother and I were attacked. They killed him and took me”

He was breathless but it was nothing compared to the haunting look in your eyes.

“Do you know the men that attacked you? Who were they?”

It was a simple question, but Osferth knew it was hiding more than just politeness or concern from his lord. Before he met them, Finan and Uhtred had been enslaved. They had been set free by Ragnar, Uhtred’s brother under the order of king Alfred. Lord Uhtred had also that ability to attract every runts in need of a home that he came across. He smiled at the possibility you might be staying with them.

“One is a scot, named Alasdair. I know he is from Aberlemno. The other one was a dane. Gorn I think. There was a third one, but he is already dead.

-They are not asking the right questions”

It was Skade speaking now. She leaned on the table, her eyes reflecting light in an unnatural way. Osferth could not argue, she was truly beautiful. But he knew she was sent by the devil himself. You let your spoon fall on your plate with a thud and straighten your spine.

“I killed that third man and left. I jumped into a river and hoped I drowned before they could find me. But obviously the gods have other plans. I am still alive and I found you, instead. And I know you are not slave traders.”

No one said anything, but he could see the emotion in Finan’s eyes. Sihtric looked at you too, with maybe a bit more caution.

“You are not a christian then?” Lord Uhtred asked, smiling.

You sized him up and simply said:

“Probably as christian as you.”

Osferth could not help the laugh that escaped him, thankfully he was not alone as the two other men tried to regain their seriousness.

“Do you pray to the same gods as me?

-I do not. I practise the ancestral religion of the highlands.

-You speak the Saxon tongue yet.

-My clan has ressources. I was educated in Latin, and also ancient Greek. Not that I remember any.

-How long have you been away from your home?”

You lifted your shoulders.

“I don’t know how much time has passed since I’ve been enslaved. Maybe a few months, maybe more. Alasdair decided to not sell me right away. He kept me for himself.

-Why? You are young and beautiful. You must cost a lot of silver.”

You snorted but did not deny that.

“I have other” you marked a pause like you were looking for a specific word, “talents that he deemed more useful than the silver he could have collected by simply selling me.

-You are a Seer?”

You moved your head taking a sip of your drink.

“And other things. It is not my specialty but it happens.

-You are a druidess” said Finan so low Osferth almost did not hear it.

“In formation, but yes.

-In formation?

-It’s a long process. Nineteen years to be more precise.

-And you’ve been doing that since?

-I was eleven. So it has been a while now.”

Your eyes trailed on him, and he stopped breathing. You watched his reaction intently, and he understood why. He was obviously the most christian of them all. Suddenly the cross around his neck felt heavy. He should have said something, he felt like he had to, but when you smiled at him gently, he kept quiet.

“Thank you for helping me. You did not have to, but you still did. I will not bother you any longer.”

You started to raise from your spot, but the hand of Uhtred kept you seated.

“Where are you going?

-Leaving? Obviously?

-How? You do not have any silver, any horse, any idea where you are. You do not even have clothes.”

You looked down at yourself and sighed. You wanted to protest obviously, but you weren’t stupid. Osferth could see you knew he was right.

“I have nothing to give you in exchange. And I won’t sleep with you for help.”

It was Uhtred that laughed first, then everyone followed except for Osferth. He was still watching you, transfixed by the reflection of the candle light on your cheeks.

“No one will make you do things you don’t want to. Especially not this.

-But when you want to, you know where to find me”

Osferth made a noise of disapproval at Finan’s remark, but you smiled and his heart shattered for you.

“Thank you my lord. I will not forget it”

Osferth watched his lord smile, but he could see that there was something else. A secret intent in his eyes. And this is when Osferth realised that there were now two witches at this table. They ended up leaving the dinner room for the bedrooms that were available. You disappeared from his sight and soon he could not find you anywhere.

“Where is the seer?

-She left to get a bath boy, are you going to follow her there too?

-I haven’t done anything! Stop!”

Finan laughed and raised his hands in a sign of surrender.

“I am just saying that she is quite a beautiful creature. Those witches, I am telling you, they are blessed by the gods they pray to. I haven’t met one that wasn't beautiful.

-She is”, simply answered Osferth letting himself fall in the bed. But there was more behind his words. He knew it.

He could not sleep, and as Sihtric already was deep in slumber and Finan had rolled on his belly already snoring , he decided to go for a walk. He did not know where he was going but when he heard a noise at the end of the corridor he simply followed. There was no one around, but the door was slightly opened. Curiosity was a bad thing,he knew that, but he was thanking god with so much ardour at this very moment. You rose from the big wooden tub. You were naked, your skin glowing from the weak light in the room. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes travelled along your back. Scars, old and new, lacered your body, and he knew they were from whiplash. He had never wanted revenge in his life until this very moment. He thought to himself that if you came across the people that did this, he hoped to have the opportunity to kill them. Maybe you would kill them yourself. But that was not the only marks that punctuated your skin. He could also see older scars, that did not seem to be accidents. They were forming shapes, symboles, and he realised that they were probably linked to your magic practices. He was so deep in his thoughts he didn’t see you turn around to look at him.

“Come in. I’m not gonna eat you”

He froze and almost combust on the spot.

“I’m sorry my lady. I just wanted -

-It’s okay. I was finished.”

You grabbed a robe and draped yourself in it. You opened the door finally coming face to face with him.

“Lord Uhtred gave me clothes, I just have to put them on and I’ll be ready. Was I too long?”

Your voice was so melodious, your accent, he could listen to you all day and night. He saw the smirk that grew on your lips as you spoke. You knew he wasn’t there because you took too long in your bath. He felt himself blush and simply nodded. He turned around fast when you dropped the robe to start getting dressed.

“What is your name? I did not ask you earlier?

-Osferth, my lady. I am simply called Osferth.

-Well Osferth, nice to meet you. I am Y/n.”

He could not help the smile that crossed his face when you pronounced his name. He turned around, and you were finally dressed. You were wearing a long and fitting dress with a large slit on your right leg, that let you see a pair of pants underneath.

“Nice to meet you, lady Y/n”

You smiled at him and he could not help but smile back even more.

#the last kingdom #osferth #uthred of bebbanburg #finan the last kingdom #sihtric #osferth x reader #the last kingdom fanfic #osferth the last kingdom #reader insert #witch reader

582 notes · View notes

space-mermaid-writing · 2 years

Text

The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 1

Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision.

This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Next Chapter

Chapter's Note: Well, here it is! A brand new Loki x Reader series. It's finished on paper and will be updated regularly. New chapters every Saturday. As always: thanks to my lovely beta @zaria-04

Chapter 1: You have my attention

You flash your brand new work badge at the SHIELD agents that greet you after you step out of the elevator. They also take a look in your bag, but find nothing they don’t like and let you pass.

The next door leads you into one of the large suites of the Avenger Tower. It’s an open room concept: a luxury living room with a kitchen, a dining area and a bar. There, one of the walls is one giant window with a magnificent view over the city.

There are several doors into the private rooms. The two Asgardian princes live in the suite, but you see neither of them. You take a quick glance at your watch, and see that you are on time.

"Hello?" you call out questioningly to the room as you walk through it. There's no answer.

You place a bag from a bakery on the coffee table. Everyone likes pastries, right? And it's still early enough that it could count as breakfast.

Then you sit down on the couch and wait. For this occasion you've chosen a smart casual outfit with pants and a beautiful blouse. Not quite the style you normally prefer, but it fits the job and the city.

You somewhat wonder what you are doing here.

A few days ago, Stephen Strange contacted you with a request for a job. They were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak.

He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. Probably neither option had appealed him much, but as far as Thor had let slip, ‘unworthy people were still more bearable than the stern presence of father’ – Loki’s words

In any case, the Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision.

Strange asked you because they were looking for someone from outside, preferably someone with skills. The Sorcerer Supreme himself doesn't have the time or inclination to deal with this. But he recommended you because he seems to think you're quite good at dealing with people.

This elicited an amused snort from you, because you've spent the last decade in a small cottage in a remote part of Europe, meeting people only when work requires it.

But apparently the Avengers were desperate enough that they invited you in for an interview anyway. You got a plane ticket emailed to you, which merely elicits another laugh from you.

On the day of the interview, the door to Tony Stark's office suddenly lit up as you stepped through.

"I take it you're the witch Doctor Wizard told us about?" He greeted you with raised eyebrows.

"And you are the flying tin man," you replied just to tease him.

He took an instant liking to you and that was a good foundation for this job interview. He explained to you the details of what this was all about.

"We need someone who tries to understand him, if that is even possible. Some kind of responsible contact person. Preferably someone who won't be easily intimidated by him."

"A babysitter," you summarized.

"Babysitter, friend, chaperon. Call it what you will, Sabrina. So far, Loki has been too unpredictable and therefore a threat. Thor can't be by his side 24/7. Besides, the relationship between the two isn't always the best either. If you're successful, we'll be all eternally grateful. And, of course, there's hard cash money in for you."

"I don't know if I can make a difference," you admitted, "You can't change people just like that."

He didn't seem to hold it against you and merely shrugged.

"It's worth a shot. I won't hold it against you if it doesn't work. We're just running out of options here."

That did make you a little curious.

"What else did you try?" you asked.

"A lot. So… yeah. It can only get better."

He offered you a drink, but you declined. You took the job, because you were curious. It was not everyday you get the chance to meet Norse gods.

If they would show up, that is.

You wait an hour before you get up and leave. You leave the paper bag, otherwise there is no evidence of your visit. As agreed, as soon as you're back in the elevator, you call Stark to give him a report.

"You lasted longer than I thought, Sabrina," he greets you, right after the first ring, as if he had waited for your call.

"That would probably be more impressive if Loki had actually shown up," you reply, giving him a brief summary of your less than eventful meeting.

"According to Jarvis, Loki hasn't left the floor," Tony notes after a brief pause. "It's a game for him. Everything is."

"Well, I've got time. And honestly, I'm not complaining when I get paid for just sitting there," you say with a shrug.

"That's the spirit. See you tomorrow, Sabrina." You guess Tony really likes giving nicknames.

You leave the elevator and walk through the corridors. Tony has given you the key card to a room where you can make yourself at home. Not that you plan on staying here outside of your job hours, but it's nice to have a retreat where you can be undisturbed. Plus, you can set up a permanent portal to your home there. It's easier and faster than having to open a new one every time.

The door to your room is in the middle of the hallway and you can recognize it only by its number, because they look all the same. You hold the key card in front of the scanner and with a short ‘beep’ the lock opens.

You step inside. The room looks like a spacious hotel room. In the front there is a small sitting area with several armchairs. A work desk is facing the wall. Further back is a queen sized bed and on the wall opposite is a dresser with a TV. Everything is in neutral colors.

You see two more doors. One leads to a modern, bright bathroom, while the other to a walk-in closet. You choose the latter to set up your portal. You take chalk out of your bag and draw runes on the door frame, muttering words softly. It's a complicated pattern, but over the years you've memorized it. You always know your way back home.

After you have made the last line and said the last word, the chalk lights up briefly and burns into the frame. You touch a specific rune and open the door. On the other side you see the kitchen in your cottage.

Satisfied with your work, you step home.

The next morning you walk at the same time into the suite of the Asgardian princes. And you are greeted by the same picture as the day before: a seemingly empty apartment.

"Hello?" you call out questioningly, announcing your arrival. Even if you are sure that you haven’t gone unnoticed.

Again, you get no answer.

On the coffee table is still the baker's bag you picked up yesterday and when you look inside, you see that the contents are untouched. As if no one had been here in the meantime.

"It’s very nice of Stark to send me a new pet toy," you suddenly hear a deep voice. It sounds like a dark velvet cloak wrapping around your shoulders. Not comfortable and relaxing, but heavy. As if it wanted to capture you and never let go.

The voice sounds so close behind you that you whirl around in surprise, your hands clenched into fists.

In front of you stands Loki, grinning amused at you. This is exactly the kind of reaction he wanted to evoke. He wears Asgardian clothes: dark trousers that seem to be made of leather or a similar material and a wraparound dark green tunic , decorated at the edges with fine golden lines. Everything fits perfectly, as if it were tailor-made for him.

You draw your brows together and your expression turns cool. You hate being startled like this.

"I'm not a toy," you clarify. Thankfully, your words sound more confident than you feel. Your heart is still pounding up to your throat, but you try to calm it down with a deep breath.

"My name is-…"

"I don't care," Loki interrupts you, seeming almost bored. "You won't be here for long anyway."

What a nice greeting.

Loki's eyes scrutinize you closely, wandering down your body and back up again. Outwardly, he can't see any trace of fear on you. Just maybe a hint of discomfort because he's standing in your personal space.

"You're different. What are you? Another PR agent? A SHIELD agent? A psychiatrist?"

His voice turns to liquid oil running down the back of your neck. It's like he's trying to make you slip so you'll make a mistake. He takes another step toward you, but you don’t retreat. Instead you look up at him, almost defiantly.

Your fingers next to your body are tense, ready to defend or even attack should he venture any further. But you don't intend to let him upset you so easily.

"Neither," you reply shortly, breaking eye contact now to circle the coffee table. You sit down at the same spot as yesterday and invite Loki with a gesture to sit down as well.

He ignores this invitation. "What are you then?” he demands to know instead.

"Does it matter?" You cross your legs and tilt your head. "I thought I wouldn’t be here for long anyway."

Loki eyes you again, but this time with more interest. You imagine to see the corners of his mouth twitching upward minimally as he finally sits down on the couch.

"You have my attention."

That's a start. The beginning of a normal conversation. You just have to play your cards right. You pull out a small notebook and a pen from your bag.

"Do you prefer to be called Mr. Odinson or Mr. Laufeyson?" you ask the Asgardian.

Immediately, his face darkens. "I despite both," he hisses.

You don’t press into details. "So just Loki?"

"'My Prince' or 'Your Highness' will do."

He grins slyly, showing his white teeth. It's like the smile of a snake about to lunge forward and bite. His whole attitude is like someone who is used to making everyone jump at his every command. You make a little note in your book.

Spoiled brat.

"I understand that you are Asgardian Royalty but I don't care about titles or ranks. How about Mr. Loki?"

It annoys him that you don't react to him. "How would you like it if I called you ‘my little pet’?"

"I wouldn't like that."

"If you say so, pet."

This is going to be a long day.

"I think it's quite fitting,” Loki smirks.

You look at your watch. "Well, it was certainly nice to meet you, but I'm afraid I have to go."

You actually don't but you have enough of Loki for one day. If anything his presence is draining. You heard what he can be capable of and even though you're not afraid, you're still on guard. After all, you've been walking this earth for some decades and you're not reckless.

You rise and Loki nods to yesterday's bakery bag, still untouched on the table. "Your offerings have not found favor with this god. Take them with you. I don't want them. Make an effort next time."

You are exceptionally calm as you turn around to him one last time. "I will make as much of an effort as this god deserves."

The door closes before you can hear his answer.

So that was the famous, infamous God of mischief. You don't wonder why so many people seem to have quit this job after only a few days. He is intense. But at least he showed up today and you were able to talk to him. You count that as a success.

You send a short report to Tony as you take the elevator up. There is an area that has been described to you as a general location in the tower. Curious about it, you head there.

It's on the upper floors and turns out to be a large lounge with access to an outdoor area. There are several couches, a large bar and a stunning view of the city.

Through an open passageway, you see a kitchen area. There, you look through the cabinets for a bowl to put the pastries from the bag. Just because Loki doesn't want them, it’s no reason to throw them away. You take one for yourself and put the rest at the bar for everyone.

Your cottage is located in the middle of nowhere, a good distance away from the nearest village. There are a few small trees around it and it is bordered by berry hedges. In the back you have several herb beds, which you always take care of diligently.

The house itself is not very big, but it is enough for you. The main room is a large kitchen, where you spend most of your time. Even now you are standing there. Around you float several bowls and a whisk that moves by itself, stirring a batter.

You open one of the many cabinets at the wall and search the compartments for a particular jar. Most of it is sorted alphabetically, because otherwise you would lose track with all the ingredients and supplies you store here.

"Caterpillars, caramel chicken beaks… ah, cocoa."

You pull out a jar of brown powder and add a few spoonfuls to the bowl with the spinning whisk.

Cooking and brewing potions are often not so different. You just have to be careful which pot you use for what.

Today you're baking, because spurred on by Loki's words, you want to bring him something he'll like. Normally, such challenges don't interest you, but in this case it's different. Last time you brought him something from a baker. This time he will get something from your own kitchen. And you'll be damned if he doesn't like it.

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

Tag List: @lokisgoodgirl @lokixryss @itsybitchylittlewitchy @yokshi-unbeliebubble @fictional-hooman @elennair @all-envy-suyu

Tell me if I forgot you. Tumblr messages can be chaotic. Comment or dm me if you wanna be added.

#loki x y/n #Loki x reader #loki odinson #loki layfeyson x you #loki layfeson #loki laufesyon x reader #Loki x you #imagine loki #the witchling and the god #imagine marvel #mcu prompt #loki odison x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #loki fanfction #slow burn

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roaenexists · 4 months

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UPG Rant/Informal Essay incoming because Why Not (take a crazy chance)

I've been working with Hekate as my guide and mentor and have come to incorporate her as the Crone in my personal practice's trifecta of Artemis/Diana/Hekate. I work with them all as aspects of the One Great Goddess, which is the collective oversoul of the planet Earth and to an even greater extent the oversoul of all life in the universe (which is reflected in the below as the Mitochondria, the ultimate inner Goddess energy).

I also work with the Divine Masculine (though right now Hekate demands I focus on Her for teachings for the time being) as The Horned God (who I name as Cernunnos, Pan, and Lucifero), which I see as the oversoul of The Wild of The Earth, the parts of Human we pretend we have outgrown. As such, I view Him as being a limited aspect of Her (so I guess in some ways I'm doing a sort of Goddess tradition?).

Ultimately, though, both the Divine Feminine and the Divine Masculine are limited aspects of the Ultimate Divine, the Gendernull and Genderfull Summation of All. I believe this Being is found not only in living things, but in the matter and energy and particles which make up everything. The Movement and the Stillness. The Positive and the Negative and the Space Between.

This is the hardest abstraction of consciousness to access but there are still loads of paths that will get you there. I personally use mushrooms in a ritual setting because it's just not my vibe to sit in a cave and meditate on an empty stomach for forty days. However, I value the long-term health of my grey matter, so I only do this once or twice a year at most, with some years getting skipped altogether if the market can't be trusted. The rest of the time I work with what I believe to be the human-specific gendered subgradients of the Divine expression.

Don't Do Drugs Unless You're At Least 21 And Educated On The Risks And Willing To Take Them On. These Risks Include Legal Action. In The Interest Of Full Disclosure, The Mushrooms I Took Were Shitake.

(&, if anyone is curious, I mix Greco-Roman with pre-christian Celtic mythos because that's my mixed heritage)

So that's what deity work has been looking like for me lately.

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zibiscusloon · 7 months

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PLEASE TALK ABOUT JOSIE SHE'S BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kajakakajakakajajakaj Thank you sm!! <33 (she’s one of my favorite designs so it’s nice to see others like her!)

•She’s probably the closest to Luz & King between her siblings. King would carry her by the back of her neck like a kitten hen she was younger.

•She spent her early school years in the Human Realm and transferred to the Demon Realm later on. She didn’t really enjoy her schooling in the Human Realm as her teachers weren’t the best and there were plenty of parents who weren’t ok with witch students in human schools. She did at least enjoy having Vee tutor her!

•She wears a lot of hand me down clothing and jewelry, mainly a few of Luz & Hunter’s spare outfits and also mainly wears Camila’s old necklace.

•She’s very close to her Aunt Lilith! They’re both dumb nerds and Josie loves to go the Bonesborough Museum to hang out with her and Hooty.

•Raine was probably the least experienced with kids (as Camila and Eda had longer experience), they however are the closest to Josie, she always liked to be around them when they did played music (she’s god awful at bard magic herself, she just likes to listen)

•Rabbowl is very soft and huggable and helps his witch when she’s overwhelmed by letting her just sit around and hug him. He’s often mistaken in the Human Realm for an off brand furby.

•She’s close to her nieces, Raquel & Cendy. She’s essentially the only reason they get away with their shenanigans at Hexside.

•She’s aromantic. She’s never had any interest in a relationship and prefers her palisman to most people.

•Eda packed her around a lot at the University when she was little. She’d often stick with Luz and watch her older sister study (Luz taught her how to use glyph magic, which she prefers as opposed to her own magic)

•Owlbert & Fiddlesticks would babysit her anytime no one else was able to. Needless to say, both palismen are absolute disasters at watching a witchling.

•Collector often pouts on how she’s gotten taller than them over the years. She was supposed to stay small forever!

•She’s nicknamed “Owlet” by her parents and siblings. Her nieces call her “Tía Joe”.

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pixeldolly · 1 month

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Walden BACC

Eleanor: "Mom, c'mere. How are you feeling?"

Abby: "Oh you know...could be better, could be worse."

Eleanor: "I can't believe Snaggles is gone. She was the sweetest kitty."

Abby: "She was, and I miss her."

Eleanor: "At least you have Sunny to keep you company! And Louis, of course, and me! I'm always just one phonecall away, you know that."

Abby appreciated her daughter's attempts to make her feel better. She wasn't exactly a hermit; she had a high-powered, public-facing job, but that didn't mean she wasn't lonely.

Perhaps that was why she hadn't tried too hard to get Louis to move out.

It was Louis who had suggested throwing a casual house party for family and friends.

An opportunity to catch up with people they might otherwise not see very much of, given everyone's busy lives.

Louis: "I've been thinking about buying a guitar. What d'you think? You could be looking at a future rock god!"

Evelyn: "Yeah...I've heard you sing. I don't think it's happening, Lou."

Louis: "Playing an instrument is not the same as singing!"

Evelyn: "Do you have any idea how much work learning to play an instrument is?"

Fiona: "So. You're the good little witchling my brother is dating. It's a beautiful night. Shouldn't you be out frolicking in the moonlight, communing with your goddess?"

Hannah: "Shouldn't you be skulking in a swamp, sacrificing babies to the dark gods or something?"

Fiona: "Oh, I don't do that. Virgin sacrifices are more my thing."

Hannah: "Good luck finding one of those. Now, are we playing or what?"

Hah! She was feisty, Fiona had to give her that. Maybe Rowan didn't have such terrible taste in romantic partners after all.

#sims 2 #the sims 2 #sims2 #ts2 #sims 2 bacc #bacc: walden #abby shepard #eleanor calhoun #louis calhoun #jake webster #evelyn morgan #fiona merridew #hannah donnelly

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dawninlatin · 1 year

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Can I have a sketch with Manorian where Manon is pregnant and Dorian is taking care of her??😭 I love these vanilla

Hiii anon🌞

By sketch, I sincerely hope you mean drabble, bc I absolutely cannot draw🫣 I can write tho, so I hope you enjoy this teensy tinsy snippet since I’m currently on vacation in Copenhagen without my laptop😌 (yes i’m just typing on my phone so pls forgive all errors lmao)

Hi this is me again two days later, at home with my laptop:) As usual what started out as a drabble turned into a whole-ass fic, but I hope you still enjoy it:):) Also I've never been pregnant (and thank god for that) so I take no responsibility for any inaccuracies....

~~~

Manorian one shot, canonverse, 1,5k words

Manon slowly opened her eyes, squinting at the morning sun shining through the curtains. She wasn’t sure what had woken her up this time, but the sunlight meant she’d gotten a few hours of sleep, at least.

With a sigh, she tried to get comfortable, even if that was impossible these days. Next to her, a still-asleep Dorian shifted, throwing an arm over her middle and snuggling close.

He mumbled something Manon couldn’t make sense of, but she just shoved at him, hissing «Don’t touch me.»

«I just wanna cuddle,» he murmured, his lips caressing her neck in a way that usually would have had Manon wanting and ready.

Instead, she let out a huff, and gave a weak attempt at swatting him away once more, when he didn't move. Manon was usually strong enough to just push him away from her, but right now she couldn't find the energy to bother.

«Just cuddling is what got us in this situation in the first place.» Manon looked at her round belly as she spoke, the thing so big she resembled a beached whale. She couldn’t fathom how she still had a month and a half left to get even bigger.

Safe to say, Manon wasn’t particularly enjoying pregnancy. In fact, she hated it, and couldn’t wait for it to be over so she could have their witchling and her body back.

She was nothing like the insufferable ladies at court, though, who only spoke in hushed voices about avoiding strechmarks and staying tight down thereso that Dorian would still desire her.

Yes, she missed sleeping comfortably and moving freely, but in the end, the only thing that mattered was that their witchling was born alive and healthy.

And her current state did nothing to quell Dorian’s desire, it seemed, given by the stiff cock pressing against her thigh at the moment.

That’s his problem to deal with, Manon thought grumpily as she once more pushed his shoulder.

There had been a few months in the middle of her pregnancy, after she’d stopped puking all day and night but before the constant fatigue and body aches, where she’d been insatiable, jumping Dorian at any opportunity, but sex these days required too much moving on her part, so their couplings were few and far between.

«Dorian, move. I’m too warm and clammy for cuddling.» It sounded more like a whine than she’d like, but whining seemed to be her default mode for communicating lately.

Manon also really had to pee, but she always really had to pee, so the heat was the most unbearable at the moment.

They had arrived in Rifthold three days ago for the King’s upcoming birthday celebration, but given that Dorian had been born in the middle of summer, it had been three days of bright sun, no wind and a much too high temperature.

Already, Manon longed to return to the Witch Kingdom. Yes, it may be summer there as well, but it’s location on the western coast of Erilea meant a constant, cooling wind blowing in from the vast ocean. She would give anything right now to feel that wind on her face.

The plan had been to stay for two weeks to attend the royal birthday celebration, and then return to the Witch Kingdom together, where they would remain until well after their witchling was born, but Manon’s hips and pelvis had been aching for days now, the pain only increasing, and she wasn’t sure she could make the trip back to the Wastes if it got much worse. The mere possibility filled her with anxiety.

They had discussed this long ago, how important it was to Manon that their child was born in the Witch Kingdom. Both because she wanted the comfort of being surrounded by her own, but also because while the curse had been lifted, witches were still wary of giving birth on the previously barren land, fearing it would lead to a stillborn witchling, so if their heir was born on foreign soil, it would send the wrong kind of message.

Manon couldn’t lie still for a moment longer, so she gave the still-sleeping king one final shove, glad that he actually moved this time, then rolled out of bed and waddled her way to the bathing chamber, as she’d done so many times earlier that night.

After what seemed like an eternity, Manon returned to their bedchamber to find Dorian awake and out of bed, pulling on a shirt. It annoyed her to no end that he could look so good after just waking up.

How miserable she felt must have been written on her face, because the king gave her a look filled with sympathy. «How was your night?»

Stopping in the middle of the room, Manon sighed «Terrible.» The day had barely begun, but she could already feel tears trying to escape. That was another thing she hated with being pregnant. There were so many emotions. All. The. Time. In one moment, she could storm out of a room in anger simply because Dorian’s presence annoyed her so much, but then in the next she could come back crying, needing to be in his arms, sobbing that «she was sorry for being so mean».

It truly marveled her, how she’d gotten to this point. Standing in the bedchamber she shared with the King of Adarlan, her husband, whom she had married not for alliance or plotting, but love, wearing a loose linen dress, the only item of clothing comfortable enough and big enough to fit her enormous belly because she was so very pregnant, and trying not to burst into tears in front of said husband, which was no worry, really, since she did it all the time now, but she still tried to keep some of her dignity.

Sensing that she neared another breakdown, Dorian came over to her, standing behind her. Manon leaned against him, her back to his front, and his hands immediately went to her belly, caressing it. «How can I make it better?»

Manon didn’t answer him, only closed her eyes, savoring the comfort of his arms. How clingy she’d gotten had been one of the first signs of her pregnancy, as it was common for witches, along with the nausea.

Then Dorian did something incredible. He placed his hands underneath her belly and lifted it, taking almost all the weight off of her hips and pelvis.

Feeling her whole body straighten, Manon let out a moan, her head falling backwards to rest against Dorian’s shoulder.

When in addition, an ice-kissed wind summoned by the king’s raw magic caressed her face, the relief was so great Manon did start to cry.

«What’s the matter, witchling?» Dorian asked as silent tears trickled down her cheeks.

She merely leaned into him further.

Manon had spent 117 years of her immortal life locking every emotion, every fear, deep within herself, never showing any weakness or vulnerability, so getting to a point where she could be real and raw with Dorian had been hard, and she still struggled with communicating her needs at times.

Dorian pressed a light kiss to her jaw. «Talk to me, love.»

«I want to go home.» The words came out as a whisper, but Dorian heard them. He hummed, a phantom hand brushing her hair out of her face. The pure love in those simple gestures urged her to go on.

«I can’t take the heat here. I’m always uncomfortable now, but the heat makes it unbearable! It feels like I’m suffocating. And what if I can’t make it back to the Wastes in two weeks? What if I’ll have to give birth here?»

«Then we’ll go back now,» Dorian said, his calm voice grounding her, if only a little. «I need a few hours to arrange things, but if you need to go back, we’ll go back.»

Even if it was exactly what she wanted, Manon shook her head, feeling selfish for making him drop everything just for her. He was a king, after all, and while they had spent as much time together as possible throughout her pregnancy, he still had responsibilities here.

«We can’t just go back. You need to stay here for your birthday celebration, and I don’t want to go back alone.» She let out a sob at the thought. Witches going into labour early wasn’t uncommon, and the thought of giving birth to their witchling without Dorian there scared her more than anything.

«Fuck that. The people care more about the celebration in itself than what they’re celebrating.»

Manon was about to protest, but Dorian stopped her.

«What’s most important to me, is you, Manon, and our witchling,» a phantom hand stroked her belly at that, «and if traveling back to the Wastes is what’s best for you right now, that’s what we’ll do.»

Placing her hands over Dorian’s, Manon nodded once, feeling a little less scared, a little more ready for what was to come. «That’s what we’ll do.»

Taglist: @fireheartfaery @bookishwitchling @celestialams @darklingswhxore @onfma @ireallyshouldsleeprn@sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp @rainbowcheetah512 @mirubyjane @zoyalovesbooks

#ask #manorian #manon x dorian #manon blackbeak #dorian havilliard #throne of glass

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