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#odin sucks
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“A Strange Little World”- Loki x Reader
As the walls of duty and destiny close in around you and your secret lover, Loki proposes that you wash your hands of it all and start your own palace of dreams out in the realms.
Pairing: Loki x Asgardian!F!Reader Content Warning: sexism, forced marriage, military conscription, Odin is a massive c**t, some lusty thoughts, mostly longing and comfort fluff Word Count: 5.1k
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You liked to ‘play house’ with Loki, but it didn’t mean the same thing to you that it would to other couples.
Whereas the mere mention of the game for most would conjure images of naughty romping and playacting in the buff, for two good little citizens of Asgard’s elite, it was a bit more literal than that for you.
Your lives were already so chaotic, with expectations raining down upon you like hot stones, forcing you to duck one way and leap another every waking second. Loki, as a prince of the realm, was moved around by his family and tutors like a pawn on a chessboard. He was kept constantly on his feet with everything from physical training to seidr sessions, diplomacy lessons, holding court, touring the front lines, etc. Odin had even begun to parade possible brides before his second son, evidently refusing to accept your rank as worthy of the royal family. 
For your part, you were also being tossed about the whipping winds of life as a courtier. Finishing school had been rough enough, but your quest to join the Valkyries had only just borne fruit. Alas, this was against your father’s wishes to marry you off instead. Your days were spent doing everything in your power to convince your family to release you from a marriage contract made to a distant cousin years ago in order to join the elite team of fighters. 
Not to mention, Odin considered Valkyries to be worthy of a prince’s hand.
What you never understood was how Odin, in his supposedly infinity wisdom, couldn’t foresee that allowing two youths to run around as playmates in childhood could possibly lead to a romance as adulthood took hold. As children, you and Loki joked about what you would name your own sons and daughters. When you both began to realize the jokes were turning into sincere wishes for your future, it all changed forever. Odin began eyeing you with suspicion and disdain where he once smiled with fatherly affection. He’d outright rejected your suit when Loki brought it to proposal.
Once it became all but apparent that your affectionate interludes with Prince Loki were temporary at best, you refused to give in to it. Instead, you began meeting in secret, which was easier than imagined for a Prince and his muse, for behind the armoire in his bedchamber was a hidden door, which led to a small winding staircase. The hidden passage led to a cozy sitting room with only a few chairs, a table, and a fainting sofa over by the window. The room was trimmed in gold, the walls a faded, light green. Perhaps once it had been used for the same purpose it now was, but for one of Loki’s own ancestors (you only hoped they approved of you more than the Allfather did).
Nothing brought you or your princely lover more joy than to sit in his private parlor and regale one another about your stressful days bowing to the whims of the Allfather’s court. Thus, like a married pair, you chose to sneak away after supper each night to Loki’s chamber to have dessert and tea, and to pretend that the hard, demanding world outside his window wasn’t there, perhaps dissolved away in an after-storm fog. Perhaps his sitting room was flying through the clouds, up, up, and away from Asgard…
The lovemaking was always sublime, but even at your quietest, sipping tea and sharing a slice of pastry, you were in paradise as long as he was beside you. You hung on Loki’s every word, no matter what he was describing or how well you understood it. In return, he smiled and took your hand whenever you expressed your own fears for your future. 
“Like a husband and wife,” Loki had tenderly whispered once, a grateful smile unrolling like a banner across his lips. “I cannot tell anyone else what I express to you every night with perfect ease.” 
You and Loki did what no one else in any of the nine realms bothered to do: you listened to one another. Loki wove a tapestry of emotion, conflict, and dreams whenever he spoke.  Even describing the most mundane of daily activities was like listening to a sonnet. He observed the world differently from most people. His mind was beautiful (as was the rest of him). If only his wonderful thoughts weren’t wasted on unreceptive ears like the King’s. 
Additionally, it was obvious that he found your own rambling monologue like the preface to a grand story in which he just had to immerse himself. Whether you were bemoaning your betrothal plans or how itchy your ceremonial robes were, he drank in your every word like a rich, intoxicating wine. 
However, not every night was for unloading your troubles. Some nights, like the one you presently found yourself in, were for fantasy. You and Loki had just finished making love in his bed, and now you were wrapped only in his bedsheets and sitting in his secret room, waiting for dessert to be delivered. Loki had only covered his lap for the sake of the servant when he came with tea. 
“Did you take the contraceptive I sent?” he asked once the servant left. 
“Of course,” you replied, sighing to yourself. “I always do.”  Of course precautions would be necessary if you were to continue sleeping with the Prince, but it sometimes drove home a fact that gave you great sorrow: one day soon, someone would be proudly carrying Loki’s heirs, and it wouldn’t be you. 
He sat back in his chair and spread his legs apart, rendering the small lap blanket he’d halfheartedly covered himself with entirely useless. He looked out the window into the fading summer light with a dreamy gaze in his eye. “I’ve been thinking, and I don't like Henrik for a boy after all.” 
You rolled your eyes and reached for the teapot, at least until Loki instantly sat up in order to get to it and pour your cup before you could do it yourself. “Thank you,” you said softly, taking a sip of the hot, floral tea, letting its mellow aroma settle your nerves for a moment before adding your thoughts. “And I told you before I won’t EVER allow a child of mine to be named…ergh…Henrik.” 
Loki gave a hearty chortle as he reached for a handful of candied pecans from a small bowl. “Too common for my Princess’ babe, is it?”
“Too common for a stable raker,” you retorted. After a moment of silence, you added, “Out of curiosity, do you have anything better in mind?”
“There are hundreds of names worthy of a child of the royal family,” answered Loki, popping two nuts into his mouth and taking a moment to chew and swallow them before carrying on. “However, there are far fewer names worthy of a child of ours.”
You wanted to move forward with your scenario, naming your offspring, planning your household, raising your future higher than it could ever be in truth. However, you had something you needed to tell him now, before anything got too difficult for you to say. 
“My father has summoned Birger for the official betrothal,” you blurted out, causing Loki to startle and put down his tea cup with a little too much force. “He says he shall arrive tomorrow.” 
He scoffed, leaning back again in clear disapproval. “Does your dear father know that marrying one’s cousin is nothing short of repulsive?”
“You know he is of the old ways, he knows most disapprove of his plans,” you said sadly, looking at your reflection in the cup before you, a single tear falling suddenly from your eye and landing in the middle of the brown liquid. “But that still doesn’t save me from it!” 
Loki grunted like a frustrated boy, biting his lip to keep from letting the entirety of his unflattering judgements loose on you. He was still your father, after all, and Asgardian custom always demanded respect from one’s children. But something was occurring to him: an idea slowly coming into focus behind his eyes. 
You’d expected him to say something by now. “Loki? Darling? What is it?”
“It suddenly makes sense,” he answered, leaning over the table and extending his arms out to you, open-palmed hands asking for yours. “My dear, I’m afraid they’re plotting deliberately against us, your father and mine both.” 
“What do you mean?” you asked, gasping with surprise as you folded your hands into his from the other side of the table. 
“Odin informed me over breakfast today that I am to serve my military conscription, beginning four days hence.”
“No!” you nearly shouted. “Please at least say he’s sending you to Vanaheim or Alfheim--”
“--regrettably, Thor and I are both being shipped like common rats off to Svartalfheim. There’s rustling in the air of an invasion.” The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. 
For you, the tears came more freely now. “But it’s dangerous there! You could die on the front against the Dark Elves!”
Loki shrugged. “Even Odin wouldn’t sacrifice his sons so thoughtlessly. We will be fighting from the tents, my darling, please believe me.” 
“So, the King is sending you away to fight at the same time I am to be formally engaged,” you realized. “Tearing us apart forever.”
Loki squeezed your hand as his skin turned cool. “A mandatory conscription is for ten moon cycles,” he reminded you. “You will be wed by the time I return.”
“And you can’t get out of your duty?” you asked frantically. “You’re a Prince! Use your privilege to revoke it!”
He shook his head and brought your right hand to his lips, where he placed a sweet, tender, sad kiss on your fingers. “Desertion is death, even for one such as I.” 
“Then what are we to do?” 
He shrugged, at a loss as much as you were. “I have no idea, I’m afraid.” 
After a moment’s awkward pause as you contemplated your dilemma, Loki added, “And your cotillion, which I presume your father will hold with all the appropriate pomp?”
“The day after tomorrow.” 
Loki looked over his shoulder, toward the setting sun in the window, which cast orange beams of light about the room behind your heads, giving the room a peaceful glow as night set in. “Truly, I thought Thor would have at least had his engagement gala by now with Sif. Meanwhile, I’d only imagined my own with you.”
You bit on your lower lip to keep it from trembling. 
“However,” he went on, running his thumb casually over your knuckles, “I can imagine they are a rather dull affair. After all, every debutante ball I’ve been dragged by the ankles to witness has had the energy and excitement of an execution. A betrothal ceremony and celebration can hardly be better, can it?”
“As if that sentiment helps how I feel,” you mumbled. 
You tore your hands from Loki’s grip, getting up from the chair and going over to the window, your back to Loki. After a moment, you sensed him moving in behind you before wrapping his arms around your belly, swinging you softly back and forth. 
“You know it’s a crime to turn your back on your sovereign, Princess,” he said, his deep, gentle tone mismatching his words. 
“Sadly, you aren’t my sovereign. Odin is,” you whispered, barely audible even to him. “And it seems to me that he has us like flies on his web.”
Loki’s mind was floating away the more he touched your warm body. “How lovely the sunset is tonight, chasing the fog away. Wouldn’t it be divine to walk down to the orchards on the edge of the city to watch it from the rolling knolls?”
You smiled and closed your eyes, losing yourself in fantasy. “I can almost hear Juni and Vali giggling and running around one of the fruit trees. Vali always tries to steal a lemon to throw around at her, the rascal!” 
A moment of silence. “Juni?”
You turned your head, jerked out of your luxurious inner tableau. “Yes, Juni.” 
“Vali is considerable,” Loki admitted, “But Juni? Is our daughter a cat?”
You giggled as Loki’s silly ramble reached a climax. “Can you see her debut? ’Now announcing to the court and the Nine Realms…Her Royal Highness, Princess Juni of Asgard?!’” His mock horror nearly brought you to your knees in laughter. “I’d sooner name her Thora.” 
You turned around, facing your Loki and slowly cupping his cheek with a gentle hand. “Maybe we should stop this. It doesn’t matter now, does it? Juni will never be. Nor will Vali or any other of our ghost-children.”
“Ghosts are dead,” Loki stopped you, leaning into your cheek and shutting his eyes. “Our children are merely yet-to-be.” 
“Never to be,” you corrected him, leaving the pair of you in depressed silence for minutes until he broke it with a kiss and a sigh. 
“I should leave you,” you said, your eyes flooding with hot tears again. “Maybe it will be better if we never see each other again.” 
He looked hurt by your decision, even frightened. “I can’t do that. I want to spend our last hours together in your arms and weaving our false hopes together in this strange little world we’ve made together.” 
“Tell that to your father, and mine,” you snapped back, turning away again, not wanting for him to see you break down entirely. “It would make the separation even more difficult for us if we don’t just ignore one another until you leave for the front lines.”
After yet another uncomfortable pause, you felt Loki put a hand on your shoulder. It felt cold. 
“Perhaps so,” he finally agreed. “But if you ever need me, I’ll come to you before your heart beats again.” 
With nothing to say that wasn’t an outpouring of pleas and love, you quickly abandoned him in his secret closet, crestfallen and lonely once more. You didn’t make it back to your rooms in the palace, needing to hide behind a statue of Allfather Bor to hide your sobs.
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Your father, Njord, was descended from one of the lesser branches of the Asgardian elite families. No royal blood to speak of flowed through your veins, but just enough nobility to warrant membership of the highest social class, and some degree of access to the court and King. 
There was also just enough prestige in your lineage to call for a formal debutante ball when you reached majority, as well as a formal engagement cotillion to acknowledge the arrival of your bridegroom, complete with a banquet barge that spent the day floating carelessly in circles around the palace moat. 
Njord, social climber he was, spared no expense for the revelries in order to show off the little status he held, going so far as to dare to extend an invitation to the royal family themselves. The barge was decked in your family colors: sapphire blue and silver, in the form of perhaps a few too many banners and garlands. You thought the decorations were so many that the yacht could sink under the added weight. 
You were arrayed in the finest sapphire silk your parents could find, which, as it turned out, was merely a gown borrowed from a relative who’d never worn it. Still, between the soft, clingy fabric and the shimmering silver family crest hanging at your throat, you were a radiant sight. 
Traditionally, the barge made three laps around the palace without the bridegroom on board. On the third go-around, he would embark and make a presentation before you and your parents, after which the boat would continue circling all afternoon as everyone aboard flooded their minds with wine. Those first three laps took nearly an hour to complete, and each second that passed, each inch that was sailed, you grew more and more nauseated. 
You may as well have jumped into the water. You were already drowning in a sea of insincerity, lost in waves of mindless chatter about dish patterns. Meanwhile, your soul floated above your head, looking for Loki in each window of the castle, wondering which room he sulked in. Was he watching as your yacht floated by? Was he trying to get a good look at you in your dress? Or did he turn away and flinch as you rode past? 
Birger and his mother, a widow with a perpetually-puckered lip, boarded without incident as the barge made a temporary berth at the palace gate. He was dressed in matching color to yours, his shiny blonde hair swept back into a bun, a gold chain obscured by a few to many ruffles at the neck. He was handsome, but his big brown eyes looked somewhat vacant, as if he was only partially aware of his surroundings. Or perhaps, he was looking for you. 
Led along a red carpet, Birger and his sour-faced mother bowed at the waist before you and your parents, beginning the formal engagement ceremony, 
“My father-to-be,” mumbled the hapless groom, “I am here to present myself as a suitor for--”
Trumpets sounded suddenly from within the palace in the musical chord that always announced the approach of the Allfather. It was so well-known that everyone turned and bowed at the knee in reflex, aside from yourself and Birger, who was still standing dumbfoundedly in front of you. 
“It can’t be!” exclaimed Njord excitedly. “Y/N! Bow! The Allfather is here!” 
Odin sauntered regally to the barge with his usual entourage following adoringly behind. The King was flanked on each side by his sons. Thor wore his usual light armor and red cape, looking as dashing and prideful as he ever was. 
Loki, of course, had dressed himself as formally as possible, wearing every piece of princely insignia he owned, flaunting his rank like a peacock’s tail. His dark green jacket was buttoned to the chin and had nary a wrinkle. He’d braided his hair in a rope down the back of his neck, a style he knew all too well that you adored. Over his chest laid a gold sash tied at the hip, and around his legs were black trousers lined at the hem with gold trim. He even wore the tiny gold earring studs you once gifted him with for Jol. 
You wanted him. You needed him. And he knew this ceremonial outfit of his drove you wild. 
You scoundrel, you thought to yourself, your eyes unable to detach from his image as he drew closer. 
“Lord Njord of the Westlands,” Odin called out, his booming voice going against what would otherwise have been expected from his old man’s frame, “I greet you in jubilation at the engagement of your only daughter, and my sons and I hope to join you in your revelries this afternoon!” 
Njord looked about to urinate. “I…ugh….YES YOUR HIGHN--”
“--we greet you most humbly and invite you to our feast!” interrupted your mother, much more calm. “We are honored by your attention, Allfather!”
“Then let the festivities continue!” Odin declared with joviality. A cheer rang up from everyone aside from yourself, your intended, and your soul mate. You and Loki were tense and sorrowful. Birger was nervous now that his presentation would be witnessed by the most powerful man in the Nine. 
The royal procession moved onto the barge, and once the boat sailed once more, Birger was invited to continue his formal proposal. He had come with a poem of his own creation: a simple, four-lined stanza about marriage that didn’t even rhyme. Afterward, he took out a lyre and began stroking out a painfully simple song that was traditionally taught to children as a first assignment at a music lesson. Loki was cringing from the stern of the boat, near a door that led down into the hull. You tried hard to stifle a giggle, and the urge to reject the man right out only grew as the insipid ballad went into third and fourth reprises. 
You were so distracted that Njord had to recite your line for you after the presentation was (finally!) finished: “My daughter accepts your suit, and four cycles hence, you will wed before the Allfather and share in your joys and sorrows until the end of time.” 
Your sadness reached an apex when you realized that not only would Loki be away for ten cycles, but with your wedding so soon, you could be well into a pregnancy by the time he returned, and what image would that be with which to greet your soul mate? 
Another cheer rang up, but your nausea was making your face turn hot, and you only had a moment to absorb the event before the world turned to watercolor before you, and you sank to your knees. In your stupor, you could hear a few gasps, your mother calling your name, and a few scuttling feet. 
Taking off like a shot, Loki got to you first in spite of the distance between you, using his godlike speed to ensure that he would be the one scooping you up instead of your fiance. 
No matter, he was still standing on the red carpet, dumbfounded, a string having snapped on his lyre. 
Loki ran with you into the hull, slamming the door behind him and seeking out anything on which to lay you down. He came across a cushioned bench under a porthole, and as soon as he set you down, you came back, smiling at the view of his face. 
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t eat this morning out of nerves.” 
“Understandable, Princess,” Loki muttered sweetly, taking your hand in both of his, closing them around yours as if they held a precious jewel inside that needed to be protected. “You should know that this was all Odin’s doing. He’s trying to motivate me to turn my back on you by bringing me here.”
“I thought so.”
He went on. “Yesterday, he tried to tell me that you were excitedly preparing for your wifely duties with your…cousin. When I didn’t believe him, he forced Thor and I to attend the party today, as if rubbing my nose in your engagement would rend my love from me!”
Loki leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Do you need water, love?”
You nodded, even as the haze around your vision faded and your senses returned. 
“Have another fetch it then, and leave us.” 
Odin’s darker, authoritative voice was enough to force Loki to stand at attention, conditioned to do so from the first day he toddled upright. He’d followed you below decks. 
Loki looked at you with concern, but you replied by stubbornly shaking off his offered arm as you got to your feet. “It’s okay, love,” you said to Loki. “I presume the Allfather wishes to personally congratulate me on my engagement.”
“Indeed, and to see to your health, of course,” Odin replied with a frown, looking expectantly at Loki again. This time, upon hearing your release, Loki defiantly kissed your brow again before looking his father in the face, brushing past him angrily to go upstairs. 
After he was certain that Loki was gone, Odin turned back to you. You did give him a small curtsy. “I am glad to see you on your feet again,” remarked Odin. “Tis a pity to see a bride fall ill at her own cotillion.” 
You didn’t answer him with words, instead refusing to look him in the eye deliberately. 
Odin went on. “Of course, it is the proper course of action for you to move forward with the marriage, and I am glad to see you obeying your call to be a wife.” 
Again, you refused him a reply, shifting your feet uncomfortably, wishing Loki would return with water for you. 
“You would have made a poor valkyrie,” he continued, musing as if it weren’t an insult but a mere fact, “You lack the discipline and swiftness. I’m unsure why Brunnhilde accepted your bid at all. Perhaps it was a kindness.” 
“Because she knew after I was inducted, you’d have no further excuse to refuse my suit,” you finally replied. “She and I are friends enough that she knows my heart.”
“I am the King of Asgard, I need no excuse to refuse any suitors who wish to taint my son’s lineage with their common blood!” 
You shrunk back a little, genuinely hurt. 
“You will both come to realize in time that I am only doing what is right. Your cousin is a suitable husband. Perhaps if you agree to end this silly affair with my son, I will double the worth of your wedding gift in gratitude.” 
You scoffed and ignored the bribe. “So tainting Loki’s lineage with my blood is a mortal sin, yet tainting my own with incest is not a crime?” you asked incredulously. “My King, your logic repulses me. Please execute me instead.” 
Odin didn’t seem to expect this. “Well, being so rash would hardly be appropriate here.” 
You nodded, rolling your eyes and completely losing your decorum. “I should have known a creature with no heart wouldn’t understand!” 
In the heat of the moment, you put your life on the line to brush past Odin, turning your back on him and immediately running back into the open air. 
Loki was not far from you, but you didn’t move toward him, instead running to the ship’s railing and looking over the side. The moat wasn’t particularly deep, but no one, not even your father, knew you could swim. 
Maybe, I could--
Turning back to Loki, running toward you full-tilt, you winked at him before leaping over the railing in one move. Your sapphire silk flew up behind you like a banner as you dove headfirst into the moat, swimming around the bend and out of sight. 
You didn’t hear the splash from behind as Loki executed a perfect swan-dive in after you. 
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Moving quickly, you were able to find a small portion of the moat’s edge where you could hoist your body onto the side without climbing. By then, the barge was on the other side of the palace and wouldn’t be due to double back for nearly an hour. 
Still, you could hear the chaotic shouts for you calling out from behind, and you quickly snuck behind a bush in order to wring out your soaked dress. You didn’t want to wait too long, and you were able to sneak your way out of town without being noticed or taken for anyone other than a soaking-wet maid in a ruined ceremonial dress dashing toward the beach. 
The shores of Asgard were littered with waterfalls that poured out into the open sea. You hid behind one, tucked in a small cavern in the rock, waiting for Loki to come to you. There, no one else would find you and drag you home. However, you’d been here with Loki before. He knew the significance of the spot. He only needed to bide his time until he could slip away from Odin’s attention.
Father will whip me for hours for this, and then move up the wedding to tomorrow, you thought woefully. 
The sun began its afternoon descent, and while you could occasionally hear guards and search parties calling out from the sandy shore, no one thought to look behind any of the cascades for you, and by teatime, it sounded like they’d given up or moved on. You were beginning to get cold, wondering if you would have to find a room in an inn for the night. Hopefully, no one would recognize you…
Fortunately, when the faint green glow of seidr began to split the falls open from the middle outward, just before the sun dipped below the horizon, you knew Loki had found you, and just in time. 
There he stood, about ten feet below you on the shore giving you a dry spot to climb down the cliffside. He held a horse’s reins in his free hand, and the huge white stallion he had in his captivity was saddled and antsy to run. 
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologized as you fell into his arms. “I swam after you, but you try getting past an entire city of people when you're Prince. Plus, I had a few things to gather for our ride.”
“Ride?” you asked, wiping away a tear with your closed fist awkwardly. 
He nodded with a wink and a sneaky grin that was laced with excitement. “I think after today, we’ve both had enough of this nonsense, haven’t you?”
You smiled and stepped up to pet the beautiful creature on the snout. It leaned into your hand with a gentle exhale, indicating his contentment. 
“Indeed.” 
He helped you onto the horse, and then took his place in front of you at the reins. You’d never ridden before, and so you wrapped your arms tightly around Loki’s waist, which made him chuckle. 
“Normally, I would protest that this was too tight a grip. However, it being you…you may hold me even closer if you can manage it.”
At first, you maintained a death-grip on him as you began riding off along the beach, away from the palace. Quickly, however, your trust of Loki and relief that you were putting distance between yourself and your intended gave you confidence, and only after a few minutes, you began to relax. 
“Loki, when will we return to Asgard? Tomorrow?”
He brought your hand up to his lips, where he took a moment to kiss every finger. Each touch of his soft lips against your skin sent tiny bolts of lightning up your arm and down your spine. 
“I was thinking, perhaps, my sweet Princess, that we would never return to Asgard. Let us find a new plot of land and make ourselves the King and Queen of it!” 
“But your conscription!” you protested. “You cannot submit yourself to the axe on my account.” 
“I won’t,” he insisted. “My projection will, however, be most glad to lose his head on our behalf.”
You rode vigorously along the coastline for a few miles until the sun was setting over the watery horizon, when you slowed to a trot, convinced that you weren’t being pursued by Odin or your father and Birger. Asgard itself was no longer visible behind you, and only the faint glow of the city’s hazy aura polluting the indigo sky indicated its continued existence. 
“Loki, my love?”
“Yes, Princess?” he cooed back, squeezing your hand affectionately before returning it to the reigns. 
There was nothing but the beach and sky before you for as far as you could see. “Do you…do you know where we’re going?”
A brief pause. You couldn’t see it from behind him on the saddle, but you knew Loki was grinning. 
“Of course not, my dear. But isn’t that the best part of all?” 
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I'm back and revitalized (and married)! :D I hope you enjoyed my little return fic! HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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Depressing Hela Thought
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So I was just thinking about the What If episode about Hela being banished to Earth a La Thor instead of being banished to literal Hell, and I realized something.
When Odin banished Thor to Earth & placed the seal on Mjolnir so only someone “worthy” could wield it, his plan was for Thor to get some character development tased into him so he’d be less of a glory-hungry warmonger and get to go home.
But the seal Odin placed on Hela’s crown was that only some who showed MERCY could wear the crown & possess Hela’s powers. And mercy is the last thing Hela would’ve been taught as Daddy’s Little Warmonger.
According to Odin’s plans, Hela was never supposed to regain her crown. She was supposed to wither on Earth, cut off from the magic of Asgard, and die.
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watcherinwater · 3 months
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Alright, whoever the writer (s) on the MCU What If staff is who is willing to portray Odin as the villain he is, and sympathizes with his children/victims, I would very much like to buy them a drink! I seriously doubt this will ever happen in the main timeline, but it’s nice to see that it happened somewhere.
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ajax-is-sugar-daddy · 3 months
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lokidokieokie · 2 years
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His Protector
Summary: Odin had always been a shitty father to Loki; always blaming him for the slightest mishap, constantly comparing him to Thor. It was a relentless relationship (if it could actually be called that). One day when Odin goes too far, you’re there to stand up for Loki and protect him from his so-called father. 
Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Goddess!Reader
Warning(s): mentions of parental abuse, torture(?), Odin being a shitty father, language, wounds, reader being a bad bitch (think I got everything...as usual, lemme know if I didn’t) 
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Every night was pretty much the same. You woke up, donned your Asgardian garbs and began your journey throughout the palace. 
You had always had a connection to the night; ever since you were a small babe. The way that the moon illuminated the sky had always brought a sense of peace over the normally bustling villages of Asgard--a feeling that few were ever lucky to experience. 
Those few being you and the God of Mischief himself. 
You and the younger Prince had been friends since the cradle, and have been pretty much inseparable ever since. However, at some point, your relationship--at least on your side--had moved from one of mere friendship to love. 
You have no recollection of when your feelings changed; it had just suddenly shifted. In hindsight, though, this realisation shouldn’t have surprised you; it was probably decreed by the Norns themselves. 
They would do that to you--bestow the gift of unrequited love upon you. They had never been in your favour; the fates were never on your side. But if you were bound to love someone endlessly; at least it was your best friend. You could pretend that everything was fine...right?
You would have to put up your façade for tonight at least. Tonight, Loki was meant to meet you in the Gardens. You both were planning to have a discussion on Midgardian playwrights, and figure out which Bard truly was the greatest. 
But as you finally entered through the arch of wildflowers and vines, he wasn’t there. You sighed, maybe he had finally succumbed to the sleep that his body required.
Knowing that you would get bored sitting in the Gardens alone, you decided that it would be best to check up on him--purely to ensure that he was alright; not by any means to hear his soft snores as he peacefully slept. 
Walking through the palace during the middle of the night was always a sight to behold. The way that the speckles of lights in the night sky reflected off of the shiny, golden walls made you feel as if you were walking straight through a fantasy novel. 
However, what you saw beyond that beautiful picture was truly terrifying. 
The throne room that usually held Odin, sitting on his throne, addressing the people of Asgard now echoed the anguished cries of the mischievous prince. Tears welled in your eyes as you came to the realisation that the Allfather was beating Loki. 
A sense of anger washed over your being, and you began storming towards the doors. As you pushed the doors open, your steps ceased. Kneeling on the floor was your best friend, covered in his own blood. 
“What in the Norns is going on here?” 
Both sets of heads turned to face you, a flash of gratitude and fear appeared in Loki’s eyes. 
Odin cleared his throat, “Lady Y/n, your presence isn’t needed here.” 
You were about to speak up when he conjured a vile of liquid and proceeded to pour it straight into Loki’s new wounds; causing Loki to scream out in pain. 
“Are you kidding me? My presence isn’t needed? You are blatantly torturing your own son in the middle of the palace!” 
How could a parent do this to their own son? 
“This does not concern you, Lady. Leave. It is an order from your King.” Odin demanded. 
In an attempt to get you to leave, the Allfather once again poured the vile into Loki’s wounds; his hoarse voice once again screaming out in agony. 
That was the final straw. You were not going to stand here and watch the love of your life get tortured by his own father. You felt your eyes change from their friendly e/c to a colour as dark as a stormy night. 
“You will not do that again. Ever.” Your voice was dead calm; causing the hairs on both the Royal’s necks to stand on end.
The King’s eyes glared at you, “You dare speak to your King that way? I could have you executed for disobeying my direct order!”
You cackled, “I’d like to see you try, your majesty. Not even you can stop the Goddess of the Night when she’s angered.” Every single word was dripping with venom. 
Odin growled, “Do not test me, night child. I’ll have you executed by dawn.” 
He made his way towards you, finally leaving your poor Loki alone. You stood your ground. You refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing that his words had any sort of effect on you. 
The only thing that truly matter was the poor soul--the love of your life--writhing on the floor of the throne room.
“You don’t want me to test you, King Odin. I think we’re way past that.” You growled as you slowly began to bring your seiðr to the surface. Black wisps of magic began to form in your palms, slowly circling the centre of your hand. 
“I think, Allfather, that it is you who shouldn’t test me...or have you forgotten what I am also the Goddess of?” 
The Allfather gulped. For a moment, he had forgotten what other title he had bestowed upon you. The Goddess of Pain flashed through his mind. You could inflict pain onto whomever you desired; you truly were not to be messed with. 
“I’m glad that I finally have your attention, Odin.” You spat. “Maybe now you’ll come to your senses and stop inflicting pain onto someone who never deserves it.”
You began making your way towards Loki, as he now desperately needed the attention of some of the palace’s healers. 
Odin coughed, drawing your attention to him. “That is where you are wrong, child. Loki is in the wrong this time.” 
You glared at him. “By all means Odin, please, enlighten me on what Loki has “done” this time!” He shifted his weight, clearly nervous. If you weren’t so angry, you might’ve been proud of yourself. 
“I have had several witness confirm that Loki was the one behind the destruction of the East Wing two nights ago.”
You seethed, “Did those witnesses happen to be Thor and the Warrior’s Three?” 
He nodded, seemingly proud of his facts. That face instantly dropped when he saw the anger in your eyes.
“It’s always about what Thor said, isn’t it Odin? Have you ever thought about what Loki has to say about this issue?” You left no room for him to answer.
“No, you haven’t; because you’re too far up your own royal ass that you don’t ever think to ask for Loki’s opinion! And, for your information you royal pain in the ass, Loki was with me two nights ago--just as he always is--because he cannot fathom the nightmares that plague his mind from his time under Thanos!”
You took a breath, you needed to keep your composure. The Allfather did not get to see you cry. 
“He tortured your son, you know. Forced him to try and take over Midgard in order to obtain infinity stones. And all that happened because he fell of the Rainbow Bridge because you are a terrible father!” 
You drew your attention away from Odin after hearing Loki whimper. Tears began to build in your eyes, threatening to escape. 
You pressed a sad kiss to his forehead and whispered, “I’m so sorry, my love. I’ll take you to the healers now.”
You once again turned to face Odin, who now had a look of terror on his face.  “I- I had no idea.” He said, seemingly ashamed of his actions. 
“Of course you didn’t know. All you care about is the Allmother or Thor. You never care about Loki.” You shifted your eyes back to Loki and moved a piece of hair out of Loki’s face. 
“And to plague your dreams, it was Thor and his horrible friends who destroyed the East Wing in one of their drunken stupors. Maybe next time you believe your Golden Child, you’ll ask if your son had any unbiased witnesses to back up his claim.”
Then you teleported both Loki and yourself to the healing wing, quickly calling for healers to tend to your love.
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Your slumber was disturbed by something shifting underneath your head. Quickly remembering the events of last night, you bolted upwards, and the emerald eyes of the love of your life greeted you.
Your eyes brimmed with tears and you grabbed his hand, “I’m so glad you’re okay.” 
He smiled, “I am, thanks you to, Y/n. Thank you for standing up for me.” 
As his thumb wiped away the tears of your face, you took your chance.
“I would do anything for you Loki. I love you.” After the events of last night, you didn’t care if the feelings weren’t reciprocated, you just needed him to know how much he meant to you. 
The pair of cold lips attaching themselves to yours surprised you; but it felt as if you had done this a thousand times before. 
Loki placed his forehead against yours, “I love you too, Y/n. More than you’ll ever know.”
He then took your lips again. 
###BONUS###
As the two lovers basked in the beginning of something new, the entire palace was able to hear the yells of anguish and anger between the Crown Prince and the Allfather.
But the lovers heard nothing, too absorbed in each other’s embrace to care. They finally were together, and only fate could now tear them apart. 
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Therapy Fit for a God Chapter 2
Loki/OFC Rated M (may go up to E in future chapters) Trigger Warnings: Angst, talk of suicide, therapy, unhealthy family dynamics
Chapter 1
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Loki’s plans to conquer and rule Midgard have come to a disastrous end. After being captured by the Avengers, he is being held on Earth. Odin has refused to interfere, and the outlook for the God of Mischief appear bleak. His only hope may lie in one mortal woman, a Psychiatric expert brought in to interrogate him.
Dr. Caroline Thorpe is intrigued by Loki and thinks that more lies beneath his actions than is commonly known. Can she find out the truth before he is shipped off to die for crimes against the Earth? And can Loki bring himself to care?
@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @yespolkadotkitty@maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere @ghostypau @ms-cellanies @colorfulfreakstudentpizza @mareebird @colorfulfreakstudentpizza  @szycha22 @chokemedaddyloki @queenofallhobos​ @just-the-hiddles-reads​  @alwida10
Taking a deep breath as she heard the door click back into place, Caroline tried to center herself again before beginning once more with her patient.
“Oh dear, I hope there are no problems, Doctor?” Loki asked, false concern coloring his voice.
“No, no problems,” Caroline smiled at him. “I learned how to deal with gun-toting bureaucrats long ago.”
“If you would like, I could deal with him for you,” the God suggested. “Simply be so good as to unlock my manacles and I will gladly make sure that particular problem is out of the way permanently.”
From a purely ethical perspective, Caroline had issues with a patient being chained during a session. I this instance, however, she had a strong suspicion that no amount of persuasion would convince the magical being seated before her to remain once the cuffs were removed. While it was not her preference to treat an unwilling patient, this particular one was so clearly in desperate need of her services that she was persuaded to make an exception.
“I hardly think interrupting our therapy session is a capital offense,” she said after a moment’s reflection.
“Therapy? Is that what this is supposed to be?”
“Of a sort,” she shrugged. “We can call it something else if the term offends you.”
“I merely find it humorous. After all, where I am headed the status of my emotions is like to matter little. And after that… well, I won’t have to deal with pesky emotions at all.”
“And will that be a relief for you?” she took a gamble, probing him a bit.
“Emotions are a weakness. The sooner you learn that dear doctor, the better you’ll be.”
“I think emotions can be our greatest strength. However, seeing everything you have been through in your long life, I can understand why you might have some hesitation about that.”
“And what could you possibly know about my life?” Loki scoffed.
“Well, you told me a bit about it,” she pointed out. “You were abandoned by your birth father, taken from your home, lied to by your adopted parents, overlooked in favor of an adored sibling, and to top it all off, you found out about your true nature in a horribly traumatic fashion. That’s enough to make anyone want to emotionally shut down. Either that or tumble off the deep end into emotional chaos.”
“Don’t make chaos sound so unappealing,” Loki said. “It can be quite liberating. And after all, I do rule over it as a God.”
“That’s right, you’re God of Chaos and Lies as well as Mischief.”
“I prefer to think of it as stories more than lies,” Loki said innocently. “Lies just sounds so naughty, doesn’t it? But then, maybe that’s part of the appeal.”
“Don’t try to distract me with semantics,” Caroline told him with a disarming smile, ignoring how appealing it was when he said the word. “We were talking about your reaction to the discovery of your true origins. I take it you embraced chaos.”
“It is my nature.”
“You sent the Destroyer, I think it’s called? To Earth to kill your brother.”
“Kill or be killed, what would you do?”
“Not commit fratricide, I hope. Did you really think Thor would kill you?”
“What was I meant to think?” Loki exploded. “All of our lives, he spoke of killing every last Jotun. He dreamed of it. Longed for it. Planned endlessly for the day when he could carry out those dreams as King. Why should I ever suspect that a weekend on this dreary planet would turn him into a simpering puppy where they were concerned? All because of a pair of big brown eyes.”
“You mean Jane Foster?”
“That woman. I had tried to reason with Thor for centuries. Pointed out the problematic nature of genocide, counseled restraint and diplomacy, and for centuries I was mocked for it. Then a pretty female makes the exact same arguments and suddenly Thor is a pacifist?”
“He had changed when he came back to Asgard.”
“In some ways. In others he was exactly the same as always. He had experienced this grand epiphany and was now a warrior for peace, and therefore everyone else must instantly and intuitively know that the world had reordered itself. A mere handful of days prior he had tried to bring about the end of the Jotunheim himself and considered it worthy of songs and celebrations. But when I attempted the same, attempted to show that my loyalty was and always would be to Asgard and our family, I was a criminal, interested in only death and destruction! I spent my life pushing back against Thor and Odin’s reflexive shows of brute force, and the moment I finally embraced the family way they changed it! Why should I be held to a standard different from the one they set all my life? How is that fair?”
Heaving himself off of the bench, Loki strode over to the side of his cell farthest from the watching guards and leaned his head on a forearm pressed to the glass. Caroline could see the rise and fall of his back as he struggled to get his emotions under control.
“It’s not,” she said simply.
“What?” the word was barely audible from where he stood.
“It’s not fair,” she said again.
“Careful doctor,” he warned, turning his head to look at her. “You contradict the great rulers of Asgard and the Nine Realms.”
“How fortunate for me then that I am not one of their subjects.”
“The AllFather may not see it that way.”
“Loki, I know it may sound blasphemous, but I really don’t care what Odin thinks, or Thor either. For the former, I have never met him, and from everything I have heard I am grateful for it. As for Thor… I have met him on a handful of occasions. He strikes me as carelessly kind, overly headstrong, and more than a touch egotistical. Not terribly dissimilar from several other enhanced people I have come across in my line of work. I have a casual linking for him, but I cannot imagine how irritating it would be to be his sibling. The only member of the Asgardian royal family I am interested in right now is you.”
“Why Caroline,” Loki purred, turning with a predatory gleam and sauntering deliberately over to the table where she sat, “why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
***
She was good, he had to give her that. Most of the mortals Loki had met since arriving on Earth would have shrunk back visibly with him looming over them, manacles of no. He was considerably tall by their standards, and he had learned several hundred years ago how to use his presence to his advantage. Instead of flinching away from him, Dr. Thorpe just directed a quizzical look up at him, as though trying to decipher what secret his new tactic was hiding. Only the pulse he could see beating rapidly in her neck betrayed any kind of alarm.
She smelled nice. The thought passed irrelevantly through his mind. A light smell of strawberries that he believed must be from her shampoo surrounded her. Loki had always enjoyed the fruit, particularly when matched with chocolate.
“If you are trying to intimidate me,” she said hardily, “you will have to try better than that.”
“Intimidate you? On the contrary, I was trying to entice you. Are my skills as rusty as that?”
“It’s interesting that your words when flirting are move removed from your true self than any of the other words you have spoken thus far. If I were to guess, I would say you were not one to give your heart over rapidly to another the way Thor did with Jane. Is that part of why it surprised you so much?”
“Why would I ever give my heart to anyone?” he asked, still keeping his voice pleasant as he sat on the edge of her desk, crowding into her space. “I am not so cruel. And who in their right mind would want such a tarnished thing?”
“Tarnish is easy enough to scrub off,” she shrugged. “And I would think there would be many people willing to take a gamble with yours.”
“Indeed? Are you saying I’m attractive, Caroline?”
“You are undeniably handsome,” she admitted. “On top of that, you are intelligent, curious, I would guess talented in many different fields.”
“Oh, I am,” he made his voice as suggestive as possible, and felt a moment of victory when her face blushed slightly.
“I think, after some work, you would make some person an excellent partner.”
“Work?”
“Forgiving yourself.”
“What in Hel do I have to forgive myself for?” he snapped, standing up off the table.
“Not being Thor,” she sighed.
Loki felt as though she had slapped him across the face. So, it turned out this doctor was no different than all the rest. She judged him not by who he was, or even who he might be, but by how far he fell from the perfect golden idol that was Thor. Why had he ever expected different?
“No, Loki, wait,” she said quickly, laying a hand on his arm.
Loki stared down, thinking idly that she was touching him precisely where the Frost Giant had all that time ago. Her touch was warm though, and she grasped him gently as though attempting to heal him instead of trying to burn. He could not remember the last time a person had touched him with anything less than thinly contained violence, and he found himself frozen in place.
“You misunderstand,” she continued, looking up at him. “I am not saying that I think you should be like Thor. I think that even trying to be is an error on your part.”
“Because I am so fundamentally lacking?”
“In some ways, but in others you are so fundamentally more. From everything I read about Asgard before seeing you today, and everything you have told me, the social hierarchy sounds like that of a common high school here on Earth. Thor is strong, brash, brave, all those things. But he doesn’t think before he acts. He doesn’t even really believe a person should think first. In a culture that celebrates battles and strength, he shines. He is an instrument as blunt and inflexible as his hammer, and good for similar functions.
“You, on the other hand, are the complete opposite. You are agile, reflexive, fluid, graceful. Your mind is just as much of a weapon as any tangible object, and I would wager much more lethal. You will survive far better than your brother, because you know how and when to swerve or bend but never surrender. The Asgardians, with their black and white mentality, would not be able to see what a great advantage this is.”
“That is true,” he said begrudgingly.
“Now, let’s look at your childhood again. You were brilliant, I assume, from a young age. That would have made your teachers envious, and I can imagine that you did nothing to hide your superiority to them.”
“A God does not hide his gifts.”
“And they are gifts!” she pounced. “So, if your teachers resent you for the most part, and the other children see more value in arms than in books, what then? Your father spent all of your formative years recounting battles to you, it couldn’t help but glorify skills at arms. The entire society you were planted in revolved around them. And you, from before you understood, would have internalized this.
“And then the final knell – Thor is given Mjornir and the crown.”
“That was never in doubt,” Loki lied. He had dared to hope, long ago now, that the throne of Asgard might fall to him. That somehow he could prove to Odin that he was worthy of his pride and love. He had been a fool.
“You might have known intellectually, but it still would have hurt,” she shook her head.
It had hurt more than he cared to remember. The worst was that no one seemed to even consider that he might feel anything other than delighted on his brother’s behalf. He had been happy, in a fashion. He loved Thor back then with an ease that he grieved the lack of now. Still, that one small, kernel of hope had always remained that somehow, he could convince their father that he was not just a spare prince, dark shadow following behind Thor’s gleaming sun.
“What does it matter?” he asked with a sigh.
“It matters! It matters because you matter. Yes, Odin chose Thor. But that is because Odin has no more imagination than your brother. He wants Asgard to continue on as it has always done. In Thor, he has a perfect reflection of himself. He didn’t choose you because you would have tried new things, made improvements, and, yes, mistakes as well. But you would have changed the status quo. You were not less than, Loki. You were unique.”
Loki walked back to the bench, her words echoing in his head. Had he been comparing himself to Thor all this time? He had thought that he had ceased to do so years ago. Still, the constant praise of his brother rang in his ears. The worship in everyone’s eyes all but blinded him. He had tried to see the irony in it all, to see the throngs who followed his brother as lemmings, nuisances at best.
Magic had helped, a little. His mother had done her best to give him something of his own, and he had seized on it with embarrassing eagerness. He could still remember the first time he had faced Thor across the pitch, their father watching expectantly from the sidelines, knowing that he had a new advantage his brother would never possess. It had all gone as usual. Thor had attacked head on while Loki dodged and danced, blades flashing. Then, summoning all of his magical strength, Loki had blurred his image so that Thor was not sure where he truly started and stopped. It was a crude version of a trick he could do without thinking now. It had been enough to confound his brother, who threw himself at the wrong side of Loki and ended up lying face down in the dirt, Loki’s dagger pressed to the back of his neck.
Loki had been ecstatic. Surely, at last, he would hear Odin’s praise. Instead, his father had looked at him coldly from his one good eye, face unpleased.
“Tricks,” he had said. “Unsporting in this sort of battle. I had expected more from you.”
Odin had turned around and walked away, leaving Loki crushed. Frigga had tried to ease his hurt, assuring him that he had done the spell just right, and she was so proud of him, but the damage had been done. He told himself he gave up on trying to win Odin’s approval at that moment, but he knew it was a lie. A part of him wanted it still.
“Tell me what living creature ever dreamed of being unique,” Loki asked quietly. “Unique is just another word for alone.”
“Unique is special,” Dr. Thorpe countered. “Loki, you don’t have to be alone.”
“Would you link yourself to me, Doctor?” he asked, thinking to call her bluff. “There is, after all, very little time left. Would you stay with me until the axe falls, be it tomorrow or the next day?”
“If you wish it,” she surprised him with the answer. “I don’t think the axe has to fall, necessarily, but even if it does, I will be there with you, if you like. As a friend.”
“A friend,” the word tasted strange on his tongue. “Friend to the one who tried to subjugate your kind? Who killed humans without a second thought?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you are what you were made to be, and no one deserves to be alone.”
“Yet in the end, we are all. And so shall I be.”
“Loki, I will ask you one last time, do you want to die?”
Loki looked at her, truly considering the question for the first time. He did not actively seek out death, not since he had let go of Gungnir a fallen into the abyss. In that moment he had, indeed, longed for an end to all the pain. Instead, the true pain had only just begun. Wincing away from the memory, he brought himself to the present.
No, he did not particularly want to die. He just was not sure he wanted to live. He knew who hunted him, somewhere in the greater galaxy. He had thought he might be safe on Asgard. Surely his father, he had believed, even if he was not so by blood, would take him back rather than leave him to the barbaric Midgardians. An Asgardian jail cell would not be pleasant, but at least it would be marginally safer. Even one as mad as his pursuer would not risk a head on confrontation with Odin AllFather.
It had not happened that way. Odin had washed his hands of his Jotun pawn. Loki was on his own, with nothing standing between him and more of the agony he had endured in his captivity.
“It might be better for all involved were it to be over,” he said at last. “I fear you have wasted your time with me. Let them end it and save yourselves.”
“Save ourselves from what? From you?”
“No, my threat is over.”
“Then what? Loki, what are you afraid of?”
“I told you, I fear nothing!”
Lies, of course.
“I don’t believe you. Everyone has fears.”
“And what are yours?” he asked, suddenly angry at her for making him feel. “Tell me, Caroline, what are your deepest, darkest fears that keep you up at night? Is it loneliness for you, is that why you hope to see it in me? Do you lie there, alone in your bed with no one to care for you? Only your work to keep you warm in the cold hours of the night? Would you cling to me in my uniqueness because you fear to be on your own?”
“In part, yes, probably,” she agreed with him, startling him once again. “I do know what it is like to be different. To keep others at arm’s length. I know what it is to be alone.”
“Well then, shall we comfort each other? You are not uncomely.”
He had meant to intimidate her, to drive her away, but as he drew closer to her, Loki realized that he would not mind spending time with her. She was more attractive than he had made it sound, and he could feel himself responding to her. Against his will, he began imagining her eyes, frank and compassionate, darkened with desire. Or perhaps it was not all his imagination. Her pulse was racing again, and her pupils had dilated as she looked up at him.
“What you suggest would not be appropriate,” her voice was more strained than it had been before.
“Because I am a terrorist?” he murmured, close to her ear.
“Because you are my patient.”
“I politely decline your services, doctor. At least, your professional services. You had said you would keep me company. We could become quite friendly if you desire.”
“I think this is a good time for a break,” she said crisply, standing and smoothing her hands over her skirt.
“I thought you wanted to stay with me,” he smirked.
“We need food,” she told him. “I will go arrange something and be back shortly.
Loki grinned as she hurried from the room, but the humor faded quickly. He had won that round, he believed. So why did the victory feel so hollow?
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spaceagesparkledust · 2 years
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Currently going feral about Loki:Where Mischief Lies. What in the world was that end??
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thorkiloves · 1 year
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Oh what about Thor and loki are happily in love and told their parents about it. odin disapproves of them and frigga supports her boys
@marvelstarker-mha98 I know it's been a while but I hope you like it :)
"Don't listen to your father" Frigga held their hands together "I know he won't understand, but I do" she smiled looking at Thor and Loki together "Deep down I always knew you two were meant to be..."
"Did you?" Thor asked feeling his heart racing. He felt so guilty he disappointed his father, but he would do it again to be with Loki, to be with the love of his life.
"I did. You two were always so close, whenever you were in trouble or just having fun together" Frigga cupped Loki's cheek "You were always there for each other... Now don't let it be different. You belong together... Don't let anyone... Not even your father tell you differently"
"Thank you, mother... I... Don't even know what to say" Loki murmured
"You don't have to say anything, my child. Just be there to support each other" she smiled.
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So our playthrough of God of War: Ragnarök is far from over (I hope) but we just reached a HUGE story development scene and all I can say is this:
FUCK ODIN.
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rt8815 · 1 year
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galaxythreads · 6 months
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You ever think about how that moment in Thor 1 when Thor and Loki were kids in the Vault and how that was an identity shaping memory for Loki and for Odin and Thor it was freaking Tuesday
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Chapter 8- Those Down Below
Separation only makes the heart grow fonder as Prince Loki finds his retreat with Hilda is yielding the opposite of the desired effect. Meanwhile, Thor enlists your help in learning of your Master's secret troubles.
Pairing: Prince Loki x Concubine!Reader Rating: 18+ ONLY (Minors DNI) MASTERLIST HERE **Please reblog if you like it!**
Content Warning: Threat and mentions of assault, eventual smut, indentured servitude and sex slavery, mean people being mean, violence, executions, more warnings likely to come
CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNING: 3rd-party descriptions of assault
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Loki did not like hunting in the way his father and brother did. He never held interest when the court progressed to the lodge on the western horizon for a retreat. He’d always pack his trunks full of books, both ancient tomes and blank ledgers for drawing and writing. At first, Odin would force his younger son to join in the activities, but after a few hundred years of the same pattern unchanged, he’d given up and allowed Loki to go to his favorite little corner of the lodge’s attic space, where a large chaise was set near the window. 
Even now, he felt as if he were here on a chore, isolated from the people he wanted to surround himself with and instead forced to keep the company of one of his less-interesting concubines. 
It wasn’t that Hilda wasn’t a beautiful woman. She certainly was, with hair a rich, medium brown and bronze skin. Her teeth were her biggest asset, large, white, and straight as a string of pearls with no cosmetic intervention. When she smiled, accompanied with her laugh, she was quite charming. 
But she wasn’t you, and as much as Loki tried to assure himself that it didn’t matter, and that this whole trip was about leaving his infatuation with you behind, but being with Hilda, both carnally and simply in the same suite, had only deepened his desire to return to you. 
Thor’s idea was failing, and fast. 
When they weren’t half-heartedly having sex, they kept separate from one another naturally. Hilda wanted to explore the hunting grounds and flirt around, while Loki remained shut inside himself. Hilda usually returned with a tray of supper and champagne, and suggested something erotic, like a bath or a game. The Prince only obliged out of hope that one of these times, the spell on his mind would be broken. 
The final night of the trip, he was attempting to enjoy his concubine one more time, but something was wrong. 
“Norns, damn it,” he mumbled, his member going flaccid again between her legs. 
“Master?” asked Hilda, lying beneath him, legs spread, her vulva displayed like a painting for any hypothetical eye in the room to see. “Am I not pleasing you?”
Loki grunted in reply, taking himself into his hand and pumping furiously, attempting to bring life back to his cock.
Maybe, just for this one purpose, I can think of…no one will know…
Your image appeared behind his eyes as he closed them, the sight of you on your back before him in the garden, robe thrown to the side, touching yourself, letting your fingers slip in and out from between your folds, flicking your bud and letting yourself exaggerate your feelings in order to engage your audience. Your breath picked up the pace as you coaxed your fall out of you, your shouts of need magnified in order to entice Loki to crave you all the more. 
Your voice joined the tableau in his imagination as your specter came. “Oooooh my PRINCE!” Your body was weak, pathetic, needy and desperate for him to replace your fingers with his cock.
Only a moment later, the sensation of going erect again filled Loki’s core. As soon as he felt hard enough, after a minute or two more of stroking and filling his mind with your fingers playing with your drenched cunt, he was ready to try again. 
I suppose I will just need to keep my eyes closed from now on. My brother’s idea has backfired. 
Loki knew what he needed to do the minute he returned. 
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You couldn’t believe it, although it made complete sense. Prince Thor’s apartments were infinitely more grand than even Prince Loki’s. 
The presumed heir to the throne of Asgard had nearly an entire wing to himself, including private tunnels that led about the palace grounds in case he was needed in haste. Thor had an entire gymnasium for himself to train with, as well as a two-story bedroom, a bathroom the size of your entire living quarters (with a bath the size of a small swimming pool)
The parlor itself was a spectacle, all golden-trimmed and diamond-encrusted. There were more chairs and sofas lying about the floor than would seat every concubine in the Asgardian harem. Garlands of fresh flowers lined the tables, and platters of food and drink just sat on a buffet table expectantly along the far wall. 
“Good, they brought supper,” Thor said with satisfaction. “Will you join me for a meal?”
You nodded and curtsied. “Thank you, Your Highness. I am rather hungry.” 
You helped yourself to a large, silver plate of grapes, bread with honey, and some kind of mead that smelled of berries in a stein larger than your head (Thor was easily twice your size). 
Sitting down across from the Prince on a sofa, you quickly tucked in, which seemed to please Thor.  “A splendid appetite is always good to see in a lady,” he remarked, taking a large swig of beer. “Though I imagine it is, in part, due to the dietary restrictions Odin places on you all.”
You swallowed a grape and affirmed his suspicion with a slight nod. Thor grunted. “I loathe that my Father takes it upon himself to dictate such an insignificant matter. I don’t know about my brother’s preferences, but between us, I will make love to any body shape I wish. I am a strong god with a strong appetite. Sometimes, I need a strong lay, you know?” 
You felt your cheeks go red. Thor was clearly a man who spoke without thinking. “With all due respect, Your Highness, I was brought here for Prince Loki,” you said softly, cautiously. “Sleeping with you or anyone but him would mean death.”
Thor chuckled and shook his head. “Indeed, but that is not at all why I brought you here, girl.” 
You looked at the floor, utterly confused, but remaining silent. 
“Look,” Thor finally began, “my little brother has always been introspective and melancholic, when not out living up to his name as God of Mischief, of course. But he became a new person when he began to summon you. He felt more at ease, he spoke up against Father in court. He even proposed some drastic change to our tradition regarding executions--”
“--he did?!” you gasped excitedly, before reeling back and remembering your place. 
Your dining partner nodded with a shrug. “I personally thought it had merit, though Father immediately shut it down.” 
Damn that tyrant, you thought. 
“Anyway,” Thor continued after another drink, “Father thinks you’re bewitching him, for him to have called you so frequently in the month since your arrival. I think you are at that.” 
You felt your center go cold. “I’m not sure what you mean, Your Highness?”
“He opens up to you, doesn’t he?” asked Thor. “He tells you his innermost thoughts?”
“I…uh…” For a moment, you weren’t sure you wanted to admit to this. What if the Prince himself didn’t want anyone to know? 
“I know that I am more body than mind, but there isn’t a soul in any realm that I love more than Loki. I see things others won't. I know his change in demeanor is inspired by you, because your minds are equals, and that is something you don't find very often around here,” he reasoned. 
Biting your lip, you affirmed his idea. “Yes. He’s told me much of his heart. He likes how I respond.”
“And has he taken you to our old play garden?”
“Yes. Nearly every time. It’s a wonderful place,” you obediently answered, wishing to yourself that you were already there. “It is here he usually opens up the most to me.”
Thor was quiet a moment as you took a knife to spread some soft cheese onto a piece of bread before slowly raising it to your lips, studying your collaborator’s body language. He was dressed rather informally for one of his high status, aside from, perhaps, a trinket about his neck in the form of a golden lightning bolt. He seemed sincere to you, at least for now. 
“And if you don’t mind me asking, Your Highness, what would you ask of me? To spy on my Master?” You took a bite of bread, the crunch of the crust satisfying. 
“Yes, Y/N, that is quite what I am asking,” answered Thor. 
“To do so…would be treasonous,” you said shyly. “A lethal offense, I daresay.” 
Thor gritted his teeth. “He is my little brother. I would do anything.” 
You shrugged. “Your Highness overestimates my abilities.” 
The blonde god looked at you a moment, thinking before speaking again. “I can arrange for something for you in reward. Almost anything.”
“...like what, Your Highness?” you asked, your ears perking. Could I ask for Vanaheim, here and now? 
He ran a hand through his hair and finished off his mug of beer. “Do you have family back in Vanaheim you would like to see, perhaps? I could easily arrange a visit from them. With privacy.” 
Your heart leapt. Aunt Ing. She could be an absolute wealth of help to you, if correspondence was possible in a way more than through your diary. 
“I have an aunt,” you answered. “I wish to…I would love to see her.”
“It is done,” said Thor. “I will send for you once I see to the arrangements.” 
Feeling comfortable after agreeing to answer to the Crown Prince with any concerns or change to Loki’s behavior, you were dismissed and allowed to go back to your room, your head admittedly heavy with mead. 
“There is…one more thing,” Thor added as you touched the door handle. “I can tell you’re falling in love with him. Heed my warning, for I say it out of concern for your welfare as well as my brother’s: don’t.” 
“Your Highness?” you asked, keeping your eyes on the door to hide your worried expression. 
Thor nodded. “I like you. You seem well-paired with my brother,” he said. “But as someone who knows what it is like, I must insist that any feelings you two may share that go beyond the carnal must be ended.”
You focused on one thing Thor just said. “...you know the feeling, Highness?”
You finally turned around. Thor smiled weakly. “I do. Her name was Tuva. She was my first slave. She was my first…well, that matter isn’t important.”
“Was she executed?” you asked warily. 
“Worse,” Thor answered. “My father, he…he took her. In front of me. Made me watch as he raped her, and then took her to his own harem. She died there some time later, of what I never learned, but I think it was from the injuries he had his sentries give her.”
A hot tear touched the corner of your left eye, and your skin began to tremble. The first night of your new life in Asgard, when those revelers wanted to assault you in front of the entire room with only Loki stopping them, all of it fell back into your mind. 
You weren’t safe from this fate even now. Thor’s story…Tuva’s story…could’ve easily become your own. 
“Your Highness,” you sighed with sympathy. Even the tall, bulky, strong God of Thunder was beginning to weaken at the memory. “You need not say anything more.” 
“I spent months in anguish, her wide, frightened eyes--” he said quietly before suddenly composing himself. “As you can imagine,” he continued, his voice artificially deepend to quell the emotions behind them, “I don’t want my brother to endure the same, nor any slave to endure what Tuva did.” 
Looking at Thor, you realized that in spite of his somewhat-louish nature, his heart was good, and he would make a fair King one day. 
“Naturally, Y/N, not a sound leaves this room.”
“Nary a word, on my life,” you swore, turning back towards the door. However, one more thing crossed your mind. “My Prince, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
Turning back one more time. “If my summons are getting more frequent, won’t that alert the others again? Particularly, your Father the King?” 
“Leave that to me,” said Thor. “Any idiot sentry can keep a secret well-concealed if he is paid enough.” 
“Those of us down below are very observant,” you added. “Please be careful, Your Highness.” 
“My brother is clearly fond of you,” answered Thor. “For his sake, I shall.”
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Instead of going directly to your room, you made a quick detour back to the stacks to retrieve your diary, which you'd had to leave on the shelf when your unexpected visitor arrived. You decided to go into detail about what had just transpired another time, although you did take a few moments to finish your present entry.
I will write in more detail later, but The Thunder Prince wishes to employ me. What am I doing here? How far will I go before I drown?
After tucking the ledger into the bag you had at your side, you took about an hour to walk about the harem common areas, watching as your fellows trotted about aimlessly, flirting with each other and comparing hairstyles.
Maybe I should get to know a few more of them, or perhaps make a friend here who doesn't see me as a direct rival. I do think I need a friend...
You didn’t expect Hilda to be in your room upon your return. She looked annoyed, only drawing circles on the rim of her teacup as she sat, bitterly looking off into the middle distance. You bit your lip to conceal the satisfaction you felt when you saw Hilda looking less-than-proud of herself for being the special girl selected to go on a trip alone with Master. You expected her to lord it over you, pulling rank and bragging about her accomplishment. 
“Oh, Hilda, you’re back! How was the trip with Loki?” you asked casually.
She looked up at you, scowling. “Not well.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, resisting the temptation to ask for more. 
You didn’t need to. Hilda was always ready to release the details, even if they were negative. “He couldn’t keep his cock up,” she groaned. “No matter what I tried sucking, or what I touched or did! I expect he’ll banish me soon enough.” 
“No,” you muttered, still keeping up the act. “Perhaps he’s just preoccupied with matters of state or something that doesn’t concern us?”
Hilda shook her head slowly. “No. He doesn’t think I’m attractive anymore. He’ll probably demote me to working in a scullery, if I’m lucky.” 
You didn’t want to add anything else to her distress, especially seeing as you now needed to make sure she wouldn’t get too close to the details of your own life. In the moment, you decided that getting too close with Hilda or ANY of the other slaves would be risky. Many of them, your roommate included, had large ears and loud mouths. Prince Thor couldn’t possibly bribe all of them!  
“I’ve heard that he is preoccupied with his impending marriage,” you suggested to throw her off the trail. 
“Oh, he is preoccupied, but not with that Elf Princess,” Hilda grumbled, taking a sip of the contraceptive tea and looking up at you, a bitter look in her eye. “He’s just having so much fun with his new toy, isn’t he? The new flavor is ruining his palate for all the other wines on the shelf.”
“I…don’t think you mean that,” you said, trying to keep as calm as possible. 
Hilda sneered and looked down again. “Enjoy it, Y/N, because someday you will find yourself like me.”
You stood tall. “Only if I refuse to take care of myself.” 
Your roommate ignored the barb and went back to her tea. “I don’t really need this, anyhow,” she said quietly. “He never once finished in me the entire time! Can you imagine? The insult!”
A knock on the door interrupted Hilda’s complaints, and a middle-aged sentry with a kind face entered before you could go over to the door yourself. “Y/N, you are being summoned by Prince Loki.” 
You heard the sound of crashing porcelain being hurled against the wall, making both you and the sentry cringe. Oh, Loki, why are you so impatient and obvious? You won’t make it easy to be discreet, will you? You could not have waited a day?
“Immediately?” you asked. 
“Yes,” the sentry answered quickly. 
You saw a slightly familiar bauble around his neck. One you’d seen an hour ago, as a matter of fact. A golden lightning bolt on a chain. 
“Hilda, please seek out a friend if you need consolation,” you suggested lightly. “Don’t harm yourself.” 
You could only hear the sound of her moaning softly as you left.
“The Prince Thor works quickly,” you muttered after closing the door behind you and walking down the hall. “Seeing as we are now equally implicated in this scheme, perhaps we should seek familiar terms with one another? So that we may gain one another’s trust?”
Your escort nodded. “I am Stieg,” said the sentry. 
“And I am Y/N. Has Thor arranged for this meeting with Loki tonight? I was with him not an hour ago.” 
Stieg shook his head. “Please keep your voice down! And no, Prince Loki just happened to bid me to retrieve you as soon as I returned to his chambers after seeing Prince Thor. I am one of the Snake Prince’s exclusive guards.” 
“He was just away with my roommate,” you mentioned as Stieg took you up a flight of stairs. “He wishes to see me so soon after returning?”
“Between us, Miss Y/N, he did not enjoy himself whilst away,” answered Stieg. “His mind is more troubled than before he left.”
Arriving at Loki’s door, Stieg knocked for you in a rather specific tempo. “This is where I leave you for now, but please be assured that I am at your service.” 
“Thank you, Stieg.”
You opened the door and went inside. The Prince was not in the parlor waiting for you as you were expecting. You looked around, and seeing the bedroom door ajar, you wandered in, looking around as you crossed the threshold and still not seeing Master. 
He was behind you so that he could slowly close the door behind you, making you jump a little. Sighing, you clutched your chest. “You startled me, Master.”
“And you startle me, sparrow,” he whispered.
You took a deep breath as Loki circled you. “I heard that your retreat was unsatisfactory?”
Loki spat. “Dismal. Alas, one epiphany was born of it.”
“And what is that, Master?”
Loki grabbed your arm and pulled you close. “That I am through with games. I am sufficiently maddened. I need your body and I need to be inside you. Tonight you will submit to me, do you understand?”
Your lower lip trembled, yet you stood unyielding, feeling a sense of longing and readiness that you hadn’t felt before. 
“Yes, Master.”
“I am going to fuck you until it hurts,” he promised. “You will be throbbing. And I won’t hold back because you’re a pretty little virgin, either. You are going to scream, girl, so help me.”
Taking one more brave breath, you shook only a little when you said, “Then, I am ready, Master.”
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worstloki · 6 months
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sigyn that married loki like ages ago so when it comes out he's jotun she's like. 'well it's a bit late to do anything about that'
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dilfbuck · 1 year
Photo
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scenery in VALHEIM (5/x) ♡ dev. Iron Gate Studio
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the-hufflepuffle · 2 months
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What if Vanir had nocturnal predator eyes like fuckin lions and shit.
Like
Imagine Odin waking up one night and seeing Baldurs eyes in the dark like "I frew up".
Or Freya/Freyr walking around Sindris house and Atreus thinking this is where he dies because THERES EYES THERE AND I CANT SEE A BODY FATHER
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d3ad-eye-andy · 5 months
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If Odin could see Loki now all the way from Valhalla, I hope he's punching air rn and having the worst time of his afterlife
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