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folkoreluvr · 3 months

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My princely beast | chapter two

Summary: Tony’s daughter agrees to dinner with Loki, curious on what his deal entails.

A/n: I have exams soon so the chances of me keeping up regularly with this fic are low but I will try.

I wander down the hallway and down the strairs, I find Helga in the house and she directs me to the closed double doors where my captor waits. I still as I approach them, bouts of nervousness flooding my body. With a shaking hand I push open the heavy wooden door and come across him.

He sits casually at the other end of a very long table, his head down as he reads the old looking book in his hand, not even acknowledging my presence. I notice there are two empty seats against the table, one down the other end with him and the other at the opposite end of the table, closer to the door. I chose the safer option and slip onto the velvet cushioned wood closer to me. The second I meet the chair his head snaps up, book closing with a sharp sound. I don’t dare glance at him, staring intently at the grain of the wooden table.

“I’m glad you could join me.” He says, as if all of this had been an invitation and he hadn’t stolen me from my home.

“There wasn’t much choice.” I say with every bit of confident i can muster. His dark eyebrow rises as if he wasn’t expecting me to bite back at him.

“You didn’t have to come down here tonight.” He mused at me, his elbow resting on the arm of his large chair, a lot larger than mine.

“Helga told me you had a deal you wished to discuss.” He nods slowly at me, deep green eyes burning into the very being of myself. I feel raw and exposed, it does very little to quell the fear nestled deep in my gut.

“I like to discuss arrangements over dinner.” He tells me, then a few seconds later there’s a green fizz and the table is covered in food. Succulent meat, hot vegetables and soft bread. I reach for the bread roll and a magical force lifts it onto my plate for me, along with the chicken and vegetables. I watch in awe as it does the same to him. I’ve not seen magic up close before, only read of it, and I find it fascinating. He muses himself with my interest as he takes a bite of the food, nudging at me to do the same. I lift a fork to my mouth and almost groan at the taste of the chicken, warm and flavourful in a way I have never experienced. He smirks at me with mild interest and clears his throat.

“I am sure you must be wondering why I brought you here and why I am not keeping you here against your will.”

“Aren’t you?” I ask, fork clenched in my hand as if it would ever protect me from the dark god. His face remains calm and neutral as he responds.

“I am not. You can get up and walk out that door right this second and I won’t stop you.” Helga had already told me that this morning but still I was hesitant.

“I don’t know where I am or where anyone else is. I have no food and no real weapon on me. I wouldn’t get very far.” I tell him, bitterness in my voice. He has no right to take my from my life and plant me in the middle of who knows where and act like he’s so good.

“No I suppose you don’t. Which brings me to my deal. I am more than willing to let you stay here if you give me one thing.” He starts. I bite my lip in thought, already assuming all sorts of awful things. I could always hear him out and if I don’t like it, which I probably won’t, I can run for the hills.

“Which is?” I ask, continuing to eat the delicious food.

“Every night that I am here you will sit down and eat dinner with me and I get to ask you one question. But you cannot lie to me, I will know if you do.” It seems innocent, too innocent. He could easily ask a question about my father or the rest of the avengers and would know if I lied. It could all be a trick but I doubt he’s one to play games.

“That’s all?” I ask, entirely untrusting of his innocence. He nods at me, picking his book back up and reading while he finishes the food. “Fine,” is all I say and he makes no acknowledgment of my agreement to his deal. Afterwards he bids me goodnight and leaves the room. I thump my head on the table and question jsut what I’ve got myself into.

The next day my captor remains to be seen, I wander thorought the house, I find many interesting rooms, a ballroom, what must have been an art gallery and a sweeping two story library. The first time I see it, my breath leaves me in awe. Lining the high shelves are stacks and stacks of books, some new some old. I spend the day perusing the shelves, some books are clearly from earth but others must be from different realms as I find languages I don’t understand. There’s a large section of books written in what must be Asgardian runes that I can’t even begin to understand and so I leave them. Helga brings in warm cheesy pasta for my lunch and then tells me at six that he will be expecting me in an hour. I reluctantly leave the library and go back up to the bedroom where I ready myself for dinner, my hair up in its signature crown. When I reach the dining room I find my captor already sat down the same book from last night in his large hands. He doesn’t look at me as I sit down and a plate full of food appears infront of me. We eat in tense silence until he asks his question of the night.

“You don’t have the same accent as your father. Why is that?” I startle in surprise at his casual question, expecting something far worse. Holding up my end of the deal I swallow some water and answer.

“I spent most of my childhood in England with my mother.” I tell him, he nods at me with interest and then we go quiet. Eventually I work up the courage to ask him what I have been meaning to all day.

“I want to amend our deal.” I blurt out. His head snaps up in both confusion and amusement. I take a deep steady breath and continue. “Every night I get to ask you a question as well and you have to be truthful.” He rubs a finger across his sharp chin as he muses at my proposal.

“And what do I get in return?” I shake a steady breath and look up at him, pulling on a mask of fake confidence.

“What do you want?” A dangerous gamble and an incredibly stupid one. His face twists in wicked delight and I feel every hair on my body stand up.

“Hmm…my time conquering has proven to be very dangerous and I need someone to tend me o me when I am injured.” I raise my brows at him but nod, knowing he could have asked for far much worse things. Our new deal it seems is struck.

Three nights later I finally have to uphold my end of our new agreement. Late into the night a banging sounds at my door, I grab for my stolen knife and walk steadily. I swing my door open, knife raised and ready and my captor stood there, a pained look on his face as he clutches at his shoulder. Remembering our deal I let him into the room and lead him into my bathroom. He sits down on the lip of the large bathtub with a groan. I stare at him in slight panic and he points at a large wooden cabinet. I run over to it and find a large first aid kit. I drop it at his feet and as I stand close to him I smell the metallic blood on his deep black leather.

“T-take off your shirt.” I tell him, fishing out sterile saline and a cloth. He does as I ask and pulls off the leather and tosses it to the floor. I don’t have any time to marvel at his godly physique as I soak the cloth in the solution and dab it onto his bloody wound. He groans out in agony and clutches at the porcelain underneath him. The rag is soon blood red and I walk off to wash it clean. I return to him with a pink stained cloth and steady a hand on his pale skin as I dab at his cut. He growls and rips from me, standing up with difficultly.

“Careful that hurts.” He groans out. I roll my eyes and walk over to him, continuing to dab him clean.

“Don’t be a baby I’m nearly done.” He snarls at me and grabs out at the wall for strength, leaving bloody fingerprints on the white paint. I bend down to grab a bandage and wrap it around his shoulder. Once I finish I turn around to clean up and he leaves without a word. I throw the bloody rag into the bin and scrub his blood from my hands before sinking back into my bed.

#loki fanfic #loki #smut #loki odinson #loki smut #loki x oc #fluff #loki x stark ofc

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folkoreluvr · 3 months

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My princely beast | chapter one

Summary: Loki and thanos have almost successfully taken over the planet and have dispensed of the earths mightiest hero’s. In the action however, Loki brings Tony’s daughter to his grand estate in the countryside, addled with guilt for his actions as he begins to break free from Thanos’ mind control.

Pairing: Loki x stark!oc

Warnings: darkish!loki, mind control, captive?, blood, violence, gore, smut

A/n: after re-reading ACOTAR and watching beauty and the beast this little scenario popped right into my head and after days of day dreaming I decided I had to write it.

I stare out of the fogged up window of my bedroom in this strange estate, I suppose I should be more relived I haven’t been thrown into some sort of dungeon or cell. Then again, my captor decided to throw my father to the cells and keep me so maybe I should be more worried. I have spent three days here and am yet to come across my captor, I’d have hope he doesn’t live here if not for the group of servants potting around the place, each with a hanging fear over their heads.

I turn around at the sound of a knocking at my door. Helga, a maid, comes in and places a plate of cookies on the desk in my new cell.

“You should eat something.” She tells me, not a suggestion but more of a command. I shake my head, pulling my soft hand away from the cool window, wiping the wet condensation on my night gown. I have been left such strange clothes, some clearly modern but most what I can only assume is Asgardian. I haven’t worn any of them, only kept onto a silk nightgown that drops to the floor in a soft pink hue and my black crew neck with the words “stark industries” printed on its front in bold white words. I see now that’s it’s probably all that’s left of my family, my legacy. The great Starks, reduced to nothing at the hands of a cruel god. “He hasn’t poisoned it.” Helga stars again with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not been here to poison it and I doubt he would bother himself with such trivial matters if you seem intent on starving yourself anyway.” I grab for the pale cream cookie with anxiousness, watching Helgas face as I eat. I try my best to keep an ounce of dignity, but I haven’t eaten in nearly three days.

“Why am I here?” I ask as I finish the cookie, desperate to grab another and scoff that one but I’ll wait until she goes. Helga surveys me as I sit on the bed, my body pulled as far into itself as possible, hands clenched into fists. Fear. Im completely petrified of why he kept me and what he plans to do to me.

“I do not know.” She tells me, a bow in her head showing her honesty. Maybe that’s worse, if his intentions aren’t clear to his servants then maybe I should try and leave, run as fast as I can and hope to find someone out here in the depths of the countryside. “You are free to leave.” Helga tells me, as if she has read to mind. “He has said that much.” I only stare at her in confusion. He must be a terrible captor if I am free to leave. Helga leaves me at that and the second the door clicks closed I grab for the plate and groan at the taste of sweet sugar.

Afterwards, I look down at myself and see the dirt clinging to my nightgown and the messy nature of my hair and decide to shower, after all it’s very unlikely anything could happen to me in there. I walk into the vast bathroom, it’s an odd mix of old time decor and the newest technology. I fiddle with the knobs until I have it running smoothly and hot and turn around to lock the door. I pull off the jumper and fold it on the shelf but the nighgown I accept is a lost cause. When the hot water begins to cascade down my throat I all but groan, savouring the feeling of warmth and comfort. The shower is fully stocked with an array of luxurious products. I grab at the soap and scrub my body red and raw, desperately trying to remove the dirt from me but it clings to me. I slide down the soaked wall of the shower and sit on the floor, bringing my knees to my chest and for the first time in three days, since I lost everything, I cry. The pattering of hard water on stone drowns out the sound of my choked out sobs, as I heave and heave, searching for breath. After a few minutes I stand back up on shaking legs and scrub at my brown locks. I pull myself away from the warmth of the water and wrap towel around myself.

I step out of the bathroom to find the sheets of my, his bed have been changed and the plate of crumbs removed. Tugging the cotton towel closer, I survey the large chest of drawers, the top is filled with underwear, a lot from my own drawers back home and some of it new. Thick cotton socks are shoved into the corner and corset like bras are lined up in a multitude of colours. I pull out one of these corsets and a pair of my own underwear and toss them on the bed. The next draw is stacked full of nightgowns - again a mix of mine and new ones. The third draw is full of soft cotton shirts and leggings, along with thick knitted jumpers. The fourth draw is the most interesting however, I pull out stacks of thick leather, noting a deep cut vest that laces at the front and black trousers, ones that would no doubt cling to me like second skin. I shove the clothes back in the drawer and wander over to the dark oak wardrobe. All the furniture looks old, worn but the appliances, such as the large tv, new. It was as if the house had been left here abandoned and my captor had claimed it, that was easily possible.

I run my hands along the soft fabrics as I chose a dress. I land on a more earthly dress in a faded green colour and toss it to the bed too. Lined up at the bottom of the wardrobe is an assortment of shoes, red bottomed stilettos, country boots, leather boots that matched the other leather apparel my captor had left for me and an array of slip on shoes. I chose black ones with a small heel and dress myself. The dress falls to my ankles, billowing lightly around me, it cuts diagonally at my shoulders, showing my collarbone. The back laces up and I wrestle with the fabric as I tug them tight, allowing the dress to cling to the curves of my body. I slip on the shoes and sneak at my door, worried I’ll find someone outside it.

I pull open the heavy wood and find an unbreathing corridor. I keep my hands clenched into fists as I walk slowly down the hallway, my head anxiously darting from left to right like the god will attack me from the shadows. I turn at the end of the hallway and find the stairs to the foyer. I scale down them anxiously, watching the door with heavy breaths. I don’t see anyone else around the house, no cooks or cleaners but the house is in perfect condition and there is no way Helga could do it all herself. Magic most likely, dark dangerous magic belonging to a darker and much more dangerous man. I reach the bottom of the stairs and contemplate going for the door and running but I have no clue where I am, no coat or food and no weapon to defend myself. That’s what I should do, find something to defend myself with. I wander the hallways in search of a kitchen, hoping to steal a cutting knife, better than nothing. I find the kitchen at last but nearly grown as I find Helga in there, preparing a large chicken with numerous spices, I see bubbling pots on the stove full of vegetables and a tray of bread rolls waiting to be cooked. It can’t all be for me. Dread settles over me as I realise he’s coming to the house, to my prison. Helga looks up at me and says nothing, going back to her cooking, the knives are on the other side of the kitchen and if she is distracted she probably won’t notice me grabbing one for the rack. Attempting to be nonchalant, I walk around the kitchen Island and towards my weapons but before I can wrap my sweating palm around a blade Helga interrupts me.

“He keeps his weapons in the armoury, it’s in the right wing, the doors down and to your right.” I don’t turn around, or move or make a noise. I can’t help but question why she would tell me such things, what motive she might have. “There’s a chest full of throwing knives and daggers, ones with sheaths.” She tells me, not looking up from the potato she is currently peeling. “You’ll cut yourself on that knife if you keep it at your chest, the smartest place to keep a knife.” Trusting Helga seems stupid but she seems to have lied about nothing else and there is nothing malicious in her tone. I retreat from the kitchen without a word and stalk down the corridors, I takes me nearly an hour to find the armoury in the maze of a house and true to her word it is full of weapons. I find a chest and prop it open, fishing out a dagger, its handle is gold and carved with runes that match the ones on the leather sheath. A large emerald stone is placed at the hilt and I turn it over in my hands, feeling the heavy weight of the metal - most likely Asgardian. I shove it down my chest and stand up. He might he furious at me for taking from him, he might even kill me but I do not care, I do not have much to live for anymore.

With the dagger safely at my chest, I retreat and head back to my room but I stop when I hear voices coming from the kitchen, I hide around the corner, recognising the quick tone of Helga and the dark growl of my captor.

“She left her room?” He asks, Helga responds in a simple yes as she chops, the sound of the knife clattering though the room. “And what did she do?” He asks her. I still, the colour draining from my face, limbs shaking.

“Came in here in search of a knife.” Helga drones, entirely uninterested. I wait in heavy silence for a negative reaction from my captor but receive none, only an interested hum. “I told her she’d have better luck in the armoury and she left, almost likely to grab a better blade.” My captor muses himself with a huff of his breath and sighs. “Interesting…” he says. “Do relay my message to her.” He asks and then he’s stalking out of the room and I press myself as far into the wall as I can go. I thank whatever good is out there and he turns and storms down the hallway, not even noticing me.

Hours later, Helga stands at my doorway again. I put down a copy of “little women” I found on one of the shelves in the room and look up at her, wondering if it has anything to do with my captor and his conversation with her.

“The prince has invited you to dine with him.” Helga tells me, no emotion in her voice. My dark eyebrows furrow in confusion at his ‘invitation’. “He wishes to disgust a deal.” She informs me, I still remain frozen upon the bed. “If I were you I’d listen to what he has to say and if things were to go awry then… run like hell.” She tells me and then she is gone, shouting down the hall to be ready for eight. I glance at the clock and see it is in an hour.

After twenty minutes of consideration, I decide I will go. I keep on the dress I’m already wearing and ignore the makeup laid out for me on the vanity unit. My hair has now dried and I decided to plait it on a wreath around my head, keeping it up and out of my face, a practical hairstyle in case things go awry.

#loki x oc #loki fanfic #loki #smut #loki smut #dark!loki #Beauty and the beast retelling #dark fic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson

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folkoreluvr · 3 months

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Mates | nessian x reader

Summary: breaking the news to the inner circle that you, Nesta and Cassian are mates.

Warnings: swearing, some of the inner circle simply being themselves, sex references and comments.

A/n: this is entirely self indulgent I’ve been dreaming about them all day.

Three days ago you had felt the mating bond snap into place with both Nesta and Cassian. You were all completely confused at first, questioning if it was really even possible. Rhys had confirmed it, telling the three of you that it was rare and that had been that. You’d spent three glorious days tangled up in bed with the two of them, entirely grateful to the cauldron for giving them to you. Cassian decided you would tell the rest of the group at dinner that night, much to Nedra’s disgust, telling Cassian he should go and she would keep you all to herself.

An hour later you had arrived at Rhys house in the city, where the rest of the inner circle awaited you. Nesta went straight for the wine, saying a pleasant hello to her sister, the recent events putting her in an alarmingly good mood. You had hovered by Cassian as he greeted his brothers and then called the attention of the group. Nesta walked over and stood next to you, looking entirely disinterested in the others.

“We’re mates.” He had said, taking a heavy breath. Mor had scoffed.

“Yes we are well aware you and Nesta are mates.” She giggled but Rhys was just nodding Cassian on.

“The three of us are mates.” That had Mor spitting her wine out all over Azriel next to her.

“That’s… how is that possible?” Feyre asked, turning to her mate. Rhys explained for you as Cassian let out a sigh, his hand creeping to the small of your back. You smiled up at him and held your hand out at Nesta, who took it.

“It’s happened before, three mates, but it’s very rare. Especially when two were already mated.” You’d had your hesitation about getting involved in an already developed relationship but Nesta had kissed you with such ferocity you’d let the thought fly out the window.

“Can we just eat.” Nesta has asked with her familiar curtness, her hand snaking overtop the hand Cassian had resting on your lower back. You sighed into the embrace of the two of them, both pressed against you. The mating bond was still early days and so you felt starved of touch and pleasure constantly, you were insatiable.

“Great.” Mor had started, chugging her wine. “Dinner and a live sex show.” Nesta had growled at that, snapping her head to the blonde woman who loved to provoke her.

“Let’s just eat.” Cassian said, walking you over to the table. You sat in between the both of them, Cassian had his arm resting over the back of your chair and Nesta had her hands planted firmly on the table, not wanting to show affection to those she barely tolerated. You only smiled at her as her legs entangled with hers, her way of showing you she cared.

You had enjoyed a peaceful meal, Nesta talking to her sister about your recent bond, sparing most of the lewd details when she saw Feyres shocked face, clearly not expecting her sister to be so dirty.

“I suppose if it had to be any of us.” She had laughed, her soft smile and warm laugh similar to her sisters, of who’s you were addicted to. The highlord had spun to his mate and raised his eyebrows.

“We get up to plenty of fun stuff Feyre darling,” the highlady had rolled her eyes, interlocking her hand with her mates.

“Not like they do.” She had said with a scoff. Rhys only smirked.

“Believe me if I could have to of you in my bed I’d love it.” She had flushed pink and gone back to her wine, wanting to end the discussion. Mor clearly didn’t.

“How does it work?” Mor had asked. Cassian swallowed his food and began to explain.

“It just does, we’re mates it’s just the way we feel.” Mor had rolled her eyes.

“I’m asking about sex cass.” She had told him, amren raised her black eyebrow, also eager to know more. “Who tops and who bottoms?” Was her first question but she answered it for herself. “Nesta seems like she can do both, and Cass I know you can.” He rolled his eyes and you couldn’t help the jealousy rising up in your throat, gripping onto his large hand. “But y/n doesn’t seem to be very in charge in that department.” Your mouth had dropped open in shock and outrage.

“That’s so untrue! I could easily be a top!” You had protested, Nesta chuckled into her glass and you snapped your head to her. “Do you not think I could?” You asked her, eyebrows furrowed. She put down her glass and cupped your cheek.

“I don’t mean to be hurtful, it’s just the truth dove.” You had looked up at her, lips slightly parted as you nodded slightly, accepting defeat. She let go of your face and looked over at Cassian who was shaking his head with a small smirk, knowing his mates tendancies. Cassian liked her roughness, liked the challenge that came with Nesta and she enjoyed giving him it, but you… you liked her soft side, where she gave into your whims and called you pretty names, always insisting on having a hand somewhere on you. It was a side she mostly reserved for you.

Cassian with his complete lack of shame, gave Mor a more satisfying answer. “Nesta and I tend to take control, occasionally one of us loses it but y/n is always the one being ordered around, she likes it much better that way.” He turned to you, fiddling with the top of your (his) knitted jumper. You flushed bright red, looking down at your plate. Nesta creeped a hand across to grab onto yours and pull it towards her. She leaned back in her chair as she finished eating and began to fiddle with your fingers as the group asked Cassian all sorts of questions, you only focused on her. She looked up to find her sister staring at her with a sweet smile on her face. Nesta had instantly furrowed her face, the sweetness gone.

“What?” She had mouthed, Feyre had answered her with a bigger smile, one that said she was happy for her sister, and turned back to the others.

After dinner had finished everyone walked towards the living room, throwing themselves on the sofas. Nesta had wanted to leave but Cassian told her she could wait an hour, teasing her restraint in a way that he would pay for later. Cassian had trudged over to an empty sofa and sat in the corner, stretching out his wings. Nesta had followed soon after, sitting next to him quietly. You went to sit down next to her but they both grabbed your arms, pulling you on top of the two of them. You sighed, giving up on being embarrassed and laid back, enjoying the warmth of Cassian and the soft touch of Nesta as she curled a hand over your waist. Cassian and Nesta enjoyed one more drink but you only zoned out, thinking about them, about what you had done all day and what you wanted to do when you got home. Your daydreaming was interrupted by Mor, claiming it was her last question.

“What are they both like, to you.” She asked, raising her eyebrows as he placed her hands on her lap.

“Well…” you began. “Cassian is nicer in bed.” You started. Nesta shook her head.

“He can’t say no to you.” Nesta corrected, Cassian rolled his eyes at Nesta as his wing curled around her slightly. You ignored her comment and kept talking.

“But Nesta is… well meaner during sex.” She interrupted you yet again.

“You like that I’m mean to you, you both do.” She said as she finished the very dregs of her wine. Cassian had no argument, not even when his brothers raised their eyebrows at him.

“I would have said that myself if you hadn’t interrupted me.” You huffed, a small act of defiance neither of them were expecting. Cassian shook his head at his mates cool expression, not even looking at you, the only evidence of her annoyance being the tighter grip on your waist.

“I think it’s time we go.” Cassian had said and you had stood, his hand going back to its resting place at the small of your back. Rhys rolled his eyes at the sight as Nesta placed her glass on the coffee table and bid a curt farewell to her sister.

“Be nice.” Feyre had said, eyes twinkling in amusement of her older sister. Nesta only shook her head, it had you fearful and aroused at whatever torture she was currently planning for you in her head. You were almost gone when you heard someone come in from outside, you all turned around to see Elain stood there, covered in mud holding a lantern. She took in the sight before her with confusion.

“I’m sorry I missed dinner I had no idea you were here nes.” Nesta smiled at her sister telling her it was fine and that you were leaving. “What’s?…” elain asked, trailing of in confusion as she saw the three of you touching.

“We’re mates, the three of us. Yes it’s possible it’s just rare. So lovely to see you but if you’ll excuse us I have to deal with an attitude problem,” she walked off at that and you very obediently followed her, clinging on to Cassians arm, hoping he would take more mercy on you than she would tonight. He probably wouldn’t, he’d enjoy the show of Nesta toying with you.

#nessian #nessian x reader #nesta x cassian #nesta x reader #cassian x reader #nesta #Cassian #poly #poly!nessian #acotar #nesta archeron #bi! nesta

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folkoreluvr · 3 months

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Very often petrified of the thought that literature and writing is becoming a dying art because of Gen Alphas shockingly low literacy art

#literature #gen alpha #writing #literature is doomed #please

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folkoreluvr · 8 months

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NOOOOOOOO

#ao3 down #please come back to me #just when I got a good recommendation #why why why #i’m crying

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folkoreluvr · 9 months

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folkoreluvr · 1 year

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Return of the dragon | chapter four: it’s a wonderful lie

Thomas Mann was proving to be a real pain in the ass. He was supposed to be a nobody, someone she spoke to once then never remembered but he was intent on sticking around. They had gone on a few dates and he was a nice guy just not for Grace. In truth she found him boring and mildly irritating. He rarely elected to aske her questions due to him being too busy dick riding her father. I fucking hate my dad she thought. She found he lacked passion and adventure and creativity, he was quite content to stay where he was born and live the same life as his dad and never be original. There was nothing inherently wrong with Thomas it was just that she could never even picture herself liking him let alone be her husband, if she would ever want one.

So when he called her on a Wednesday afternoon and said he was taking her to a diner he likes she was intrigued. Fancy restaurant dates were never her thing and she loved American diners. He had rolled up in a red Lamborghini and driven her to a small diner on the outskirts of Manhattan. It had dark blue walls and shiny leather boots. Memorabilia of all decades decorated the walls and in the corner was a mahogany jukebox. Grace was ecstatic, this is what drew her in. she couldnt care less about fancy dinners and expensive gifts, she wanted individuality and she found it far more meaningful if someone learned what she liked and made a charming date she would adore them forever. He led her to a booth In the far right corner and sat across from her. They made small talk about their weeks until their food arrived. When grace was halfway through her burger he cleared his throat and looked at her expectantly. She glanced back confused and put the burger down with a small frown on her face.

"I actually brought you here to talk about something, away from the paparazzi and listeners." Now she was even more confused.

"is everything okay?"

"my dad wants me to marry and expects me to have kids in the near future and well I know yours does too and I was hoping we could work out an arrangemen-"

oh her heart dropped. He didnt actually like her and had no interest in actually forming a connection. why would he Im me.

"Im sorry but no. I have no interest in any of this" she watched his face drop and his hands fall to his lap awkwardly before she put the pieces together. "who is she?"

"what?" got you the look on his face confirmed her suspicions. He didnt look shocked he looked caught and mentally she patted herself on the back for being so smart.

"the girl youre in love with. I take it that if you marry her your cash flow stops because your dad wants you to marry someone higher up, someone like me."

"yes but be honest grace your dad expects the same. Have to marry someone he approves of someone he picked. Were both stuck in this I thought you might help me. We would be married only to the public and our parents but in private we could do as we wished."

"I dont want to marry you or anyone"

"but-"

"look, we could pretend to be together for our families sake and find a way to convince our parents it wouldnt be good for us to marry. Ill get my dad off my back and you can search for a woman in a similar predicament to you, Im sure there are many"

"thank-you Grace really"she smiled at him for a second then sunk her teeth back into her burger

Fuck my life

At dinner that Saturday night Grace told tony about how she and Thomas were now in a relationship and watched him nearly jump for jump for joy, she probably would have felt bad about lying to him if he wasnt such a dick. She had a feeling Pepper already knew however, she didnt exactly seem convinced and was oddly quiet the rest of the night. She had walked grace to the elevator to their pent house and kissed her on the cheek..

"I only want you to be happy" she said quietly and Grace just smiled back and hugged her goodnight.

———

"alright now that the boring shits over I have something to announce" tony stark had said to the team, some looked exited like Sam, others grimaced like Bucky or Nat or simply sat their bracing themselves, like grace was. If her father decided to announce her new relationship status in front of the team and in front of Loki especially she would probably punch him straight in the jaw and hope it breaks. "the avengers team is having their first every pool party. An actual pool party and not a few drunk people swimming in their underwear like its high school again"

"who did that in high school" Steve asked with a confused look on his face forgetting not everyone on the team went to high school in the 1930s

"I did" Grace smirked.

"you were home-schooled?" tony said with a look of confusion.

"and yet I was invited to every teenagers pool party in Manhattan"

"moving on" he mumbled "its an avengers thing for team building but Sylvie is welcome to come she was now officially living in a spare room at the compound" Grace still couldnt get the strange sense of déjà vu out of her brain every time she looked at her.

"could I bring Thomas, he would love this sort of thing" this was her key to selling their relationship she mentioned casually that he swam in high school and loved the pool and did her best to pretend like she hadnt read that in an interview article at 3 am the night before.

"of course you can" she caught Loki rolling her eyes as she smiled at her dad.

"I thought this was for avengers not riff raff" he really was a ginormous prick.

"the stark family always makes exceptions for things like boyfriends" and she paused and looked him up and down "psychopaths apparently too" a satisfied smug grew on her face as she watched Thor hold his brother down to prevent him for leaning across the table with a dagger in hand. She truly loved pissing him off and since he often started most of their fights Grace felt he deserved it. She only wished he would look less attractive glaring at her.

"perhaps,"Steve interjected "we can all use this as a way of working out our grievances with each other and stop trying to kill each other" the last part was said in emphasis as he glared at Grace and Loki, both of which did not seem pleased.

"oh come on its hardly my fault hes got such a rod up his ass."

"nor is it mine that the only person willing to be with her is the most dull man in the universe"

"fuck you Loki"

"Kunta" he mumbled at her in old Norse

"LOKI" Thor bellowed at his brother.

and thats meeting adjourned Thor marched Loki out of the room and grace watched and rolled her eyes until she stormed out too.

———

A loud rummaging awoke Grace from her sleep, it was coming from the bathroom and for a second she debated leaving it and hoping nobody killed her in her sleep. Begrudgingly, she got out of bed and slowly walked towards the bathroom. She opened the door as quietly as she could but to her disappointment it was only Loki. He looked up and saw her in the mirror and glared at her reflection.

"oh goodie youre back" she murmured sarcastically, he rolled his eyes and continued dabbing his arm with a rag. Upon further inspection she saw that he had injured himself which was odd because it was nearly impossible but she only took pleasure in his suffering. He removed the now crimson rag and she saw just how grim his wound looked. “that is disgusting” she cringed and Loki looked impossibly more irritated.

"Im perfectly well stark dont you worry"

"isnt that disappointing. You woke me up and I find out our not even dying"

"its 10am why were you asleep?"

"fuck off I had a late night" he rolled his eyes again and threw the bloody rag in the bathroom bin.

"out with that boring man again stark? You may be you but surely theres someone else who wants to be with you." She walked out of the room and slammed the door shouting "bye asshole I hope you bleed out"

#loki fanfic #fluff #loki #smut #gracielle stark #loki x stark ofc #loki x reader

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folkoreluvr · 1 year

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Return of the dragon | chapter iii “Grace cried power”

grace stark cuddled up to Thomas Mann was splashed across page six with a rather unflattering image of them both in his limo, their eyes scrunched and red from flash photography. Her father had waved it in her face at breakfast and grace had angrily bitten into her croissant whilst pepper stared at the two of them blankly. They both knew it was a fake relationship purely for the sake of pr but clearly tony was hoping it was more. He had wiggled his eyebrows in the strangest way possible and taken a large and loud sip of his coffee whilst he waited for her answer.

"what do you want me to say dad?" she eventually snapped this is why I stay away from my family

"are you happy?" she gripped her knife tighter and took a deep breath to fight the urge to dig it into her fathers neck

"not at this present moment, no" her tone was bitter and sharp which somehow amused her little sister as morgan was giggling at the scene in front of her

"oh grace, he just wants to see you in a relationship you know that."pepper smiled almost apologetically at the girl and grace felt that sickly feeling in her stomach. He doesnt want me to be happy he just wants me to get married. She smiled back at pepper but it must have looked more like a grimace because the woman gave her another apologetic look.

"Im perfectly happy single dad. I have places to be anyway so ill get going now." she walked fast out of the room with the croissant between her teeth and the magazine squeezed in her fist. The more she thought the angrier she became and by the time she arrived at her room the magazine had orange flickers crawling about it. That was becoming a habit recently and Grace had elected to keeping her hair away after she had almost burnt it off. Her skin was resistant to fire however, it had been since the accident.

The fire summoning was new however and Grace could barely even comprehend it let alone control it. She had shunned her powers for years, with memory spells and secrets. She didnt understand what she was. Was she a witch like Wanda or a sorcerer like Loki or a mutant like Pietro. The origin of her powers were unknown and after hours of research she found nothing. It seemed no one in the past million years had possessed powers like hers. All that existed was a whispered legend of a forgotten race of people with the power of elements, of true nature. There was only one person who might know anything about her and her powers but she was much to proud to go asking. Grace knew damn well he would laugh in her face and refuse, or worse, make her beg. Loki thrived off of power and dominance. He had the urge to always be in control and always be on top. It was something Grace respected and even agreed with but she just could not find it in her to like him and the feeling was mutual. In the months she has been an avenger she had stabbed him twice, he had attempted to drown her in the pool and were notorious for fighting and arguing on all missions they were put on together.

She let the flames grow on the magazine until it was fully engulphed. Puffs of smoke floated around the room in whisps of silver and shaped around her. Grace allowed herself to be calm closing her eyes and steadying herself until there was nothing but the charred remains of the gossip magazine. She tossed them into the bin and wandered to the bathroom she shared with Loki. However when she opened it he was stood dripping with a towel wrapped around his waist. He was angry yet silent as he rubbed some sort of Asgardian oil onto his pale skin. She stood there and stared at him for a second to take him in. Loki was a very private person, unlike his brother who was half naked half the time, she had never seen him wearing less than a designer suit. His body was defined and muscular and although he wasnt as bulked up as his Thor he looked strong, intimidatingly so even. Upon further looking she saw scars littered across his soft skin. Some red and ragged others rippled and shiny. Some that looked like slashes and stabs but many that looked like burns. They had been hidden slightly in scar creams but they were still there. Pepper had told Grace about Loki, how he had been weakened then controlled by the sceptre but she hadnt thought about just how he had been weakened. Tortured. Thats what it looked like to her. Loki would be much to vain to do it so himself and his brother is lacking any sort of similar scars himself. He seemed to have grown impatient at her staring as he rudely interrupted her chugging train of thought

"what do you want stark?" he looked strangely uncomfortable which was weird for Loki who always looked stoic and mildly murderous

"I just need to wash my hands. And stop calling me that" she walked to the second sink next to him and turned on the cold tap, letting it drive away the coal dust on her skin.

"it is what you are is it not?" he said without looking at her "a stark" her name left his lips like a curse and Grace didnt have to look his way to know his lips were sneered and his eyes full of hatred.

"ill have to start calling you prick then. Because thats what you are is it not?" she still did not look up but heard a loud clattering of jars and an almost slam of his cabinet. She heard him turn around and then looked up as he stormed away, black coils tapping on his defined back as he left.

Grace was lounging comfortably on the soft sofa in the library, her legs tucked up underneath her and a copy of Emma by Jane Austen open in her hands. A few hours of undisturbed piece had done her good. It was as if Loki was gone entirely from her head, her powers too. She was not worried about control or hurting someone, only Emmas unkind words to poor miss bates. That was until Wanda came bursting through the door in search for her

"there is someone here. Someone different I can sense it" she put her tattered book down and turned around to face the red head.

"why does it matter wan, unless were being invaded by aliens?"

"then kind of, shes Asgardian and likes Loki so we should probably take that into consideration" she chuckled at that and stood up. Together they both walked to the common room where several people were huddled around this girl. She was tall and had short blonde hair. Her skin was pale like Lokis and her eyes were dark blue. She looked oddly familiar but Grace chalked it up to being blonde considering how many blondes she knew. The girl stood up when she noticed Grace and walked over to her, she extended her hand and grace shook it with a polite smile

"my name is Sylvie" she had the same accent as the Odinson brothers and the same diplomatic look that she knew all too well

"its nice to meet you. My names Grace, Grace Stark"

"are you his daughter?" Sylvie asked, gesturing to Tony who was sat comfortably on his thousand dollar arm chair.

"unfortunately" Grace said bluntly. Sylvie laughed, assuming it was a joke and Grace smiled awkwardly to play it off.

"you two look so alike"

"so I hear" she said with a chuckle Sylvie walked over to the sofa and Grace followed after her

"but I have to say you are the prettier one" grace almost blushed at that, she had always struggled with compliments and had no idea what to say other than an awkward thank you. Tony saved her however with his objections

"ill have to disagree there. Have you seen how gorgeous my eyes are"

"we have the same eyes dad"

Loki huffed loudly , visibly irritated by Sylvies complement.

"be careful complimenting the Starks. It makes them even more insufferable" grace rolled her eyes and glared at him mouthing cunt to him when he caught her eye.

"tell me Sylvie, was he this much of a dickhead on Asgard too?"

"yes, though you mustnt take it personally, Loki hates everyone"

He hadnt meant to pry, truly. But she had left the door wide open and Loki was curious by nature. He found her room a strange place, piled high with books and pictures. It was rather messy he observed and there was an open moving box filled to the brim with seemingly unused notebooks in a range of different colours and sizes. Grace was nowhere to be found so he urged on walking through her living room and towards her bedroom. He knew it was wrong to be doing this but he just couldnt help it. He knew nothing about her, she was a mystery to him. She appeared to hate her father and the avengers yet stayed willingly. She had powers he never even seen and he was entirely convinced shed subconsciously lit a candle with her mind, as ridiculous as it sounds. He pushed open the door to her room and saw her, her back was almost fully turned away from him and she was staring intensely at a ball of fire. She was holding fire in her hands that she must have summoned. Loki nearly stumbled back in shock and all but ran away from her rooms.

The dragon had returned, and it was Grace Stark

#loki fanfic #fluff #loki #smut #gracielle stark #loki x stark ofc #loki x reader

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folkoreluvr · 1 year

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Pls reblog if u vote :)

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folkoreluvr · 1 year

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We’re all… fine.

We be reading it all serious like it’s Shakespeare or something.

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folkoreluvr · 1 year

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Return of the dragon

Pairing: grace stark x Loki odinson/dottir

Cast:

Olivia cooke as gracielle stark

Katie McGrath and Tom hiddleston as Loki

Chapter masterlist (incomplete)

Chapter one- the prodigal child returns

Chapter two - mean gods

Chapter three - Grace cried power

Chapter four - it’s a wonderful lie

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folkoreluvr · 1 year

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folkoreluvr · 1 year

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return of the dragon - II

The flashing red light finds itself transporting Grace back to her youth, to the flickering red light that would flash in the abandoned warehouse that had housed the chaste. She would stare at it every time she was knocked down and in response it would flicker more, like it was taunting her. She’s not in that warehouse anymore though, not with the chaste but with the avengers. Finally doing the right thing, the thing she hopes will solve the incessant moral dilemma that has wormed its way inside her mind. Grace pulls the small knife concealed in her suit out and slits the leg of the man fighting her, he spurts blood over her suit and drops to the ground, flopping around like a fish out of water. She twists her head to the side to crack her neck and lets her braid follow it, there’s blood speckled in it mixing with the sweat on her scalp from the fight. They had been sent early yesterday morning to a hidden base just of the coast of Peru, S.H.I.E.L.D believed it was a base for the hydra agents who had escaped the avengers. It had been a small team sent; just Grace, Natasha, Sam and unfortunately Loki.

Despite their first meeting being something out of a Taylor Swift song, he had quickly turned sour and rude and of course she responded equally. That rudeness quickly turned to anger and arguing and then they were enemies, desperate to destroy each other and obsessed with beating each other. Grace wasn’t a killer, and she had never wanted to be but there is nothing she wants more than to bury her beloved knives deep in his chest. Arrogance dripped from his voice and swam deep in his veins and despite having no royal power on earth he acted as though he was the worlds prince. He had been on earth since 2018 when he swore an oath to do right by his villainous actions and help protect the people. He stuck to his word, ever the royal, but it did not require him to be a likeable person apparently. It probably wouldn’t have been much of a problem if not for the fact they have similar hobbies. Loki Odinson spent almost all of his free time in the library, pouring over any knowledge he could, reading stories of blood and sex and violence, just what she liked. Grace also spent a lot of the time at the library and so the two had given themselves designated areas of the large room, she hovered on the sofa by the fireplace and Loki remained pressed against the cold glass window as he perched on the window seat. Their rooms faced each other and the walls weren’t always thick enough and so she heard many of the noises that spilled from whatever girl he had taken to his room for the night. He had been given the role of Batchelor and he played it like he was expecting an Oscar.

All he ever did was pick on her like that one cruel boy from primary school, making fun of her boyfriend and her lack of control of her powers and her family. Loki really hated tony stark and the feeling was very much mutual. Their consistent bickering was highly amusing to the rest of the team who took immense pleasure in watching the pair blow their short fuses. Grace had found no real reason as to why he had suddenly decided he hated her entire being but she suspected her last name had something to do with it. Many people hated her, those in the upper east side who saw her as nothing more than a gold digger, the die hard iron man fans who called her a failure to the Stark family and all those who simply wanted to be her. They had no idea who she really was, they just idolised the pretty rich girl she had made herself, always going the extra mile to ensure people didn’t dig and so that they definitely didn’t find out about her involvement with the chaste. Only three people knew her dirty little secret; her brother who she had lost, Natasha Romanoff who had always respected her and even covered for her and lastly her mortal enemy, who had dug into her past to hurt her even more. Finding out that he knew made her even more obsessed with keeping her secret a secret

Her hands were dry and sore from a long and hard training session and she wanted nothing more than to climb into a steaming bath until she pruned. She turned her back to the training room to put her equipment away in the designated spaces, Steve was often nagging the team about it, and was too tired to hone her senses enough to hear the door open or feel the presence of an unwelcome person.

“hells kitchen is such a strange name for a place is it not” her face dropped and she was sure he could see it in the reflection, she steadied herself and looked down, refusing to meet his eyes. “why does it matter” grace asked as nonchalantly as she could muster. In the passing month since she had arrived he had treated her like mud on his shoes, acting as if he was better than anyone and like she was the devil incarnate. “you spent a lot of time there did you not” her heartbeat was thunderous and her hands began to shake from nerves, she twiddled with the black ring on her left hand and willed to whoever controlled the universe that Loki would disappear. “why does it matter, Odinson” she said his name like it was a slur, spitting it out as if it tasted retched. “I didn’t trust you, and I still don’t, so I researched you. I found out what I could about who you really are stark. Id always known you’d be vermin just like your father but to actively go against him with your previous… alliances is interesting in a way. You may act so sweet and so innocent but I know your heartless, as heartless as he is” she had turned around then, eyes glowing green and rage painted across her face, it wasn’t possible for him to know. She hid per panic with a look of blank anger, not allowing the prince the smug satisfaction of getting to her, which she imagined was his entire motive behind his visit. She spun her mind for something to spit back at him. “many of us have dark pasts here Odinson, just like you when you tried to take over this world and failed miserably” the mention of the events that had happened almost ten years ago shook something within the god and in a split second he had her pinned to the wall. His large had wrapped around her throat and his emerald eyes glared down to hers with a look of pure poison. “if I know bloodlust” she chuckled out, her voice hoarse from his grip on her neck “then you know it more. But you know failure too, I do not” something flashed across his face, like a blue sheen had beaconed across him. He let go of her throat and watched her topple ungracefully to the ground before merely staring down at her. “what did you win stark? Your father banished you, your mother is dead and so is your brother. It would seem that you are instead lacking” he spun on his heel and walked out, his strides graceful like he hadn’t just threatened her. She pulled herself up and wrapped her own hand around where he’d grabbed her and warmed her skin from his icy touch.

She passed by her dads offices on her way back to her room but stopped in her path when she heard the sounds of the two princes, they were discussing a threat to new Asgard, a colony which had been formed from those who fled Asgard after the threats of the frost giants and Thanos. It was run by Valkyrie and was never troublesome, the small kingdom lived in peace. But there had been many reports of violent murders linked to some strange draci? (the voices inside were muffled) and blood magic. Thor and Loki suspected it was someone from Asgard who had travelled to earth and that the avengers must be prepared. Her dad had told the worried royals that the teams would look into it and assess the problem if it develops any further. The sound of chairs shuffling reminded her that she was currently snooping on things that had nothing to do with her. She span round the corner and pressed herself to the wall as the two brothers walked out, grace managed to get a glimpse of their conversation before they were out of earshot. “you really think it is her brother” Thor asked “I saw it, I saw her do it brother I swear it. Who else would have that power?”

#loki #loki fanfic #loki x stark ofc #gracielle stark

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folkoreluvr · 1 year

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folkoreluvr · 1 year

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both sexy af too

if i had a nickel for every time charlie cox’s character was dangerously involved with an ex who’s a murderous brunette woman with a european accent, i’d have two nickels which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice

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folkoreluvr · 1 year

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return of the dragon I - the prodigal child returns

loki x fem oc (stark)

summary: eight years ago, gracielle stark was banished from new york and all but disowned by her father Tony Stark. now shes back with a hazy past and powers she cant quite control. ones that her enemy, loki odinson knows all too well. and when people from graces past return with threats grace loki offers a helping hand in order to get close to her and figure out her true intentions.

warnings (gonna put these at the start of the fic and then not on seperate chapters so heres all warnings for the entire fic): blood, gore, graphic descriptions of violence and injury, death, murder, sex, smut, sexual assult, grooming (not romantic), readers a stark so gals fucked up, tony stark, slight kink content, gay people, not very canon compliant, stick the dick

w/c: 1.8k

authors note: im posting a ton about this on tiktok and its also being published on my wattpad- both are under midnightsloki. thanks for reading

It had been eight years since the fall of Gracielle Stark, since she had fled New York and the grasp of her soul-sucking family.

She had once belonged to the inventor dynasty, the great Stark family but grace had been too different and she had no intent of being like her father or the four generations before him. She was no scientist or inventor or even capable of social situations, she was a recluse. she hated parties and politics and business and making tech. She had been 16 when it had happened, her banishment, but the wound that had been caused was still bleeding and it was too deep to stitch up and bandage and get over it. Her father had granted her the life she wanted by erasing her from his own, if he had claimed her so much on a whim she couldn't pretend to be shocked when Tony Stark had dropped her. Blood may run thicker than water but it can slip between your fingers just the same. but This time it's different, for everyone, this time when she stands in a loud room and sips on a strong drink in a dress no short of elegant she knows that her father did not place her there, nor can he dispense her. Not this time. she would take back what he stole from her, she could play happy families if it meant finally getting revenge on her father for all the heartache he had caused her.

“We are about to be late to my own party where the hell is she.” Tony Stark murmured with annoyance, glancing anxiously at the Rolex his wife had gifted him last Christmas.

“She’ll be here Tony relax, don't scare our daughter away before we even get her back.” Pepper Potts had said whilst she fixed the bowtie on his collar. Whilst pepper had been ever so happy to get her “step” daughter back, Tony had been nervous. He knew he had been her ruin eight years ago and understood the deep hatred his daughter harboured for him because of it. Then the pair had heard the clipping of her gold tom ford heels as grace approached them holding her three year old sister Morgan. Her dress was made of soft silk, the olive green fabric flowed lightly all the way to her feet, the straps on her shoulders glimmered in gold and her jewellery was gold to match, two emerald green earrings that dangled softly. Her hands were scattered in gold rings and her wrists had small gold bangles latched on, a gold choker with emeralds floating along it completed her jewellery. Her signature burgundy lipstick was painted across her fake smile and her hair had been tied up as usual. Tonight it is part of her hair pulled back and into a twist. She looked as elegant as she always had and now that she was older she looked it even more.

“what happened to your dress” was all her dad could say as his three year old daughter ran over to him. His eldest rolled her dark eyes, the same eyes as him, and pulled her phone out of her Vivienne Westwood clutch.

“I wanted to wear this one, its more my style don’t you think?” she asked, pushing a piece of her brown hair off her shoulder as her mother gave her a quick kiss to her cheek.

“you were supposed to wear red, we need to look united and normal so people are less judging.” Tony stark was reaching the end of his short tether and as per usual his daughter was making him question his sanity. He found being an avenger easier than raising a daughter.

“ we look scarily alike dad I think people will know I’m your daughter, besides green is more my colour.”

“funny, there’s a very grouchy god who likes to say the same thing.” But a quick glance at his watch showed him he did not have the time to make digs at his least favourite avenger, “ok we need to go now, Happy is waiting in the car” and with that the wealthy family made their way to the party. The car ride was almost entirely silent with the two most stubborn starks not talking. Pepper had tried making small talk to smother the uncomfortable silence but her futile attempts had ceased after seeing the shared scowl across both of their faces. The event celebrating 85 years of stark industries was being held at the plaza. High ups at the company were invited along with family friends, potential investors and even the avengers team were to be in attendance tonight, now with their newest member. Graces hands began to shake with nerves, everyone would be watching her every move, trying to prod and poke at the mystery that is Grace Stark. With a deep breath she raised her head and straightened her shoulders and pushed open the doors to the golden hall. As she had already guessed, almost everyone turned to look at her but she did her best to ignore them and her rattling nerves as she descended down the luxurious carpet stairs and walked straight to the bar to settle her anxious stomach.

After three hours of endless, meaningless conversation and gin grace was ready to go home. Parties like these always dragged on, there was rarely anyone her age in attendance and the music was always stuffy. Natasha was drawling on about a mission she had just been on but Grace wasn’t listening, her attention was caught on the tall man stood in the corner, his black hair was slicked back and his green eyes focused on the crowd. He wore a slick black suit that almost looked like armour stretched across his godly shoulders. The man was Loki Odinson, her father’s worst enemy and the younger brother of Thor Odinson. He carried himself like a prince, with strong posture that radiated dignity and a calculated look that made him look dangerous, if the rest of him wasn’t already a giveaway. He was easily the tallest person in the room, taller than his muscular hunk of a brother even. It made him stand out like a sore thumb and she imagined he hated it as he looked as if he was hiding in the corner and she certainly could not blame him

A woman on the terrace caught his attention, her soft curls blowing in the soft evening wind and her green ensemble drawing him to her. It was something different about her that kept his curious gaze on her. She looked familiar, like he had seen her before somewhere but Loki couldn’t place it.

“who is the woman talking to Natasha?” the god asked, turning to his brother who smirked irritatingly before answering.

“that is lady grace, she’s the new avenger that’s moved in the room opposite yours, how have you two not crossed paths already brother?” Thor had laughed loudly which made Loki internally cringe.

“she looks eerily familiar is all” his suave voice spoke, hiding the interest he had taken to the beautiful girl with the dark eyes.

“she’s starks daughter” his slight smirk had instantly faded the minute the name of that vile man had left Thor's lips. the norns were playing their cruel tricks on Loki again, the only woman Loki had taken even the slightest of interest to in the two years being on this planet just had to be the offspring of the man he hated most. The vain, greedy and horrid man could not have created such a stunning creature, it just wasn’t possible. She would probably be just as bad as he is, Loki thought with a grimace. Two starks, the norns were being cruel to him indeed.

Grace turned to look at the god lingering in the corner and caught her breath in her throat as she saw that he was already looking at her. She had stared at him until her face started to flush like a schoolgirl with a crush. Loki watched her for the remainder of the night, not thinking much of it until she laughed at a joke Clint Barton made and a nearby candle stick that had been left unlit burst to life with a flickering flame. Loki knew none of his fellow avengers possessed any sort of power that would be capable of doing that, he also knew of how rare that sort of power is. It had last been one and a half thousand years since someone had possessed power like it.

|~|~|

Dracoris was a being on Asgard who controlled and summoned fire, they rode the large, fire breathing scaled beasts known as dragons or drekki and fought in gruesome, violent wars that people don't even dare to talk about it. Their power was almost unstoppable, being passed between people at the decision of a mysterious and unbreakable jade green stone. Odin's daughter and heir, Princess Hela had wanted this power for herself however and so she decided to take it using the only magic in Asgard that was forbidden, blood magic. When her spell had failed and her blind rage had taken over the princess had slaughtered Dracoris in her rage, killing the last dragons on Asgard too. The three unhatched eggs were stolen from their beds of fire in Asgard's north caves where dragons lived and brought back to the palace. Upon Hela’s imprisonment the eggs were placed in the Odin’s vault. But no amount of fire made them hatch and without their queen the unborn dragons lay cold.

Dracoris never retuned not for over a hundred years and people began to worry, none more so that the great king Odin. He was on the very brink of war with the frost giants, and pure dragon fire was the very thing he needed to win the fight with laufey and his giants.

On the stormiest night Asgard had ever seen a huntched old man covered In a tattered black cape had demanded an audience with the king and queen. the man revealed a prophecy on the return of Dracoris.

it will be many years, more than a thousand but the dragon will return. The dragons will soar the skies and the realm will see peace like any other. she will not be born to Asgard but shall be brought by love and fire. Dracoris will marry the eldest child of the rightful heir to the throne and their child shall have the blood of old elementia.

Odin had been overjoyed, almost bouncing with giddy. He smiled over at his expecting wife, content in the fact that his child would bring about the return of the dragon. haggard old man said one more thing before he left: they shall call her the dragon princess then later the dragon queen. the first that has ever been.

#loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki x oc #loki x original female character #stark oc #genderfluid loki #fem loki #fem loki x oc #daredevil characters #loki x stark ofc #gracielle stark #grace stark #smut #fluff #angst #enemies to lovers #slow burn

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