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TITLE OF STORY: Sweet Treats
CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: ONE SHOT
AUTHOR: FadingCoast
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor Tom
GENRE: Erotica
FIC SUMMARY: You’ve been preparing Tom for almost two weeks for his birthday celebration. Now it’s time to reward his commitment.
RATING: Explicit NC-17
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: sub!Tom/Domme!reader explicit fic. BDSM stuff and all that. It was written for Tom’s birthday.
.-
No matter how hard he tried, Tom could not make out what you were doing. The array of sounds around him was confusing, and his own fidgeting did not help. What he could hear were your giggles. You were clearly amused by his current predicament.
“I’m gonna be ready soon, my sweet.” You kissed his head.
Tom whimpered softly, and took a deep breath. Blindfolded and ordered to remain on his knees, hands behind his back, there was not much else he could do but wait.
CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: Chapter One
AUTHOR: https://ichiruuu.tumblr.com
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Loki
GENRE: Romance
FIC SUMMARY: He is forbidden. Her heritage was stolen.Its been two years since the earth was attacked by the Chitauri. Victoria Bishop lives in New York and works for Tony Stark also known to the rest of the world as the Invincible Iron Man
When Loki returns for the Tesseract, she finds herself somehow drawn to him and his bad side. Loki is the type her dad warned her about. Loki is the type of man you want to hide and lock up your daughters from. As Tony Stark once said, “We create our own demons."But what about falling for one?
RATING: Explicit
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: mentions of rape and violence.
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Hello! This is my first Loki fic. Please give some feedback! Thank you :)
Something was off that Monday morning.
I could not place my finger on it as I made my way through downtown Philadelphia. It was raining so it had been deemed pretty stupid to worry about the day being off. The mood however…
I had forgotten why the mood was sour today. I was on the first train out of my beloved city to an unknown place. The letter had instructed me to move out and was shoved down somewhere at the bottom of my suitcase. That was a week ago. It had been about three months prior to my departure when it arrived. I was sitting in my office with my mother who loves to chide me when it came to my personal endeavors. There hadn’t been too many clients that day so I could pace myself with my work. My father, a well known doctor in Philadelphia, had been contacted by Anthony Stark. Mr. Stark was a man of many secrets but everyone knew that he was technically a superhero. His company had been associated with SHIELD, which we only knew about through the television and newspapers. The organization itself had based their beliefs on catching intergalactic criminals and stopping the world from coming to end. But after some fights with SHIELD’s director, Mr. Stark had started his own program to stop aliens (the spacial kind) from invading the planet. Stark Industries had hired my father to study how other species survive and live on our planet. One of them happened to be Thor’s younger adopted brother.
The job description required a young and vibrant person to assist Tony Stark with physical and psychological studies involving said younger brother. I had never personally met Thor’s brother but based on Mr. Stark’s description of him, he was a dick. Someone that you wouldn’t want to mess with.
When I arrived at my apartment that same day, I was not surprised in the slightest at how big it was. Bigger than my room in my parent’s house. After all, my father had hounded Mr. Stark about me having the best accommodations money could offer. Being spoiled at age twenty- two made me feel like such a child. Once the movers arrived at my new home, they unloaded all of my furniture. There weren’t many things that I owned, but the comfort of having them with me had eased my apprehensiveness of moving to a completely different place. You’d think I’d be used to a big city but Philly had nothing on New York.
My new place had two bedrooms, a single bathroom with a high powered shower and a kitchenette with a small dining room. Picking the biggest room was pretty easy. It was closer to the street with a huge window which I was thankful for. A daily dose of Vitamin D was good for everyone.
A loud ring coming from under the couch cushions startled me. Realizing it was my phone, I laughed out loud for being scared of something so silly. The caller ID informed me it was Mr. Stark. Gulping audibly, I cleared my throat before answering.
“Hello?” My voice cracked.
“Ah, Ms. Bishop. I see you’re nice and settled into your new apartment. Is everything to your liking?” I wasn’t sure but I had the distinct feeling there was sarcasm behind that question. My teeth grit involuntarily.
“Everything is perfect, Mr. Stark. Thank you by the way,” Mumbling, I said my goodbyes to him and we hung up. So much for trying to impress the new boss. Glaring at my clock, I shoved the phone under the couch cushions again. Like my mother said: Que sera sera.
The sun was the only thing shielding myself from my own homicidal thoughts.
I was drowning in my sweat and I wasn’t even half down the block. I loved living in a big city but I missed Philly. Especially with all the pollution constantly clogging up my lungs and a car waiting at every corner to maim me. I was happy to go to work today. Today marked the anniversary of working one year with Mr. Stark. It was an honor and a privilege. It was also a degrading job that paid fairly well, the irony of it. I was a certified physician assistant to my father. But part of my job also entailed doing daily blood draws on the one and only god of chaos and destruction, Loki Odinson. Loki was Thor’s brother who also happened to be an Avenger. And in case you didn’t know, Tony Stark was the Iron Man. I had started working with Mr. Stark because his most trusted physician had been too much of a chicken to go head to head with a god. A snort came out of my nose. Yeah, right. There was the small detail of Mr. Stark’s wife, Pepper Potts, having a pair of twin boys so Mr. Stark’s blood pressure was known to skyrocket.
Noise polluted the quiet vastness of my mind and distracted me away from my thoughts. I walked towards the upper part of Manhattan. A loud honking noise made me stop short and I turned sharply. A taxi had just stopped in front of me and kept honking. I kept walking and ignored the driver. It was usually what happened in these parts. That was one of the reasons I hated living here. It only made me miss my tiny bedroom in the outskirts of Philadelphia.
I was out of breath by the time I was inside the Stark Tower. Missy, the secretary, met my eyes when I entered the grandiose building. She gave me a rather nasty look. I gave her a nasty look of my own. When I turned away, I could almost feel her piercing gaze on my back. I tried walking towards the elevator as gracefully possible, but for me, I felt like I was a gazelle with its legs broken. Holding my head up high, I stopped in front of the elevator. Just as I was about to press the last button, it pinged and opened. Mr. Stark stepped out in his mighty Avenger glory. I was taken aback at his sudden entrance. He was about the same height as my father (a whole five feet and nine inches on the dot) with dark brown hair that was neatly styled and a tidy beard. He had a rueful smile on his face and I stared at him more for several seconds. He wore a pair of dark wash denim jeans and a tight black t-shirt. I wasn’t the type to stare at one’s boss, but Mr. Stark had a good figure considering his age and all. He had gotten married recently, and still acted like the playboy that he solemnly had been for years. Around me, he acted like an older brother or protector. It was because he was twenty-five years my senior. It felt comforting having him there, since I rarely saw my father at the lab. He still stayed in Philadelphia and traveled for meetings once a week.
“Ah, Miss Bishop. So glad you made it. What, did you stop and get your hair done before work?” he teased. I laughed.
“No, Mr. Stark. I had just set my alarm a little late. I knew that I didn’t have to start work until eight.” I glanced down at my Rolex, making sure I was right. Yup. Fifteen minutes until my shift. I shifted and let out a sigh of relief. Mr. Stark looked me up and down. He tsk tsked at me.
“Geez, Miss Bishop. You’re what, twenty-four now? You dress like my grandmother!” He shook his head but kept smiling. My lips thinned into a tight line, I examined what I was wearing. I thought I looked decent enough. I was wearing dark washed jeans and a violet blouse paired with knee high boots. Perhaps wearing knee high boots in the middle of March wasn’t such a good idea after all. Business casual. Or more casual than business as he had once put it. At least I hadn’t walked into work with Hawaiian shorts and a Mickey Mouse shirt like he did one time. We don’t talk about that Christmas party incident anymore.
“Okay, fine. I do admit I don’t typically dress my age. And I’m twenty-three!”
“Okay okay, kid. What’s on the agenda for today?” He stopped smiling and had a grim look on his face in a split second.
I gave him a blank stare. There was a strange look on his face. Crap. That was also part of my job. He glanced at me almost as if he was gonna say something but held his tongue.
“Is it an Avenger thing?” I recovered quickly. “Or is it a code nine one one?” Code 911 usually stood for escaping superbeings. I could only pray that it wasn’t Loki this time.
He nodded and turned on his heels. A highly dangerous god was on the loose. Missy stepped out from behind her post and wordlessly gave Mr. Stark a silver briefcase. It was lightweight and inconspicuous, perfect for New York. Having a briefcase was the norm here. In reality, it was his Iron Man armor. He pressed a button to open the case. Stepping into it, the armor conformed to his body and he flew out of the balcony window in the lobby. Papers flew everywhere and Missy huffed. My laughter echoed inside the elevator.
My job was fairly simple at Stark Industries. Do a routine blood draw, stay out of the way, and do not ask the guard to leave while doing physical tests. Sometimes I was a carrier pigeon for Mr. Stark. He’d send me over to the Shield headquarters (each time the location was different) and hand over vital information to Director Nicholas Fury. Sometimes it entailed me going on trips out of the country which was a nice perk of being here.
There was only one person I could tolerate in the entire tower and that was Dr. Bruce Banner. We were both smart and we knew about the body so we felt comfortable talking about biological warfare and whatnot. On my first paid vacation we had spent a weekend in Calcutta where he tried to meditate and control the other guy. He had invited Natasha Romanoff. I usually stayed clear of her way. She was intimidating sometimes but her sharp wit often made me laugh. Her combat skills came in handy when my usual guard had to tend to some other assignments per Mr. Stark, so she filled in for him. The protocol was that I had to have someone with me at all times. The trust in Loki was so little. There was also Clint Barton. I rarely saw him since he had a private life outside of the Avengers job. He was married and had two kids so he tried to avoid the action as much as he could. There was a rumor going around that Clint had been possessed by some kind of unearthly power due to Loki’s influence on alien technology. Clint’s PTSD had sky-rocketed the minute he spied Loki again in the tower.
And of course, there was Steve Rogers. He and I never saw eye to eye on anything. There had been a brief time where I had actually wondered if the man in red, white, and blue had developed a crush on me. It turned out it was just his fucked up views on female doctors. Shocker.
The elevator was lagging today so I wondered if Mr. Stark had tweaked its hardware, again. I pushed the button for the very top again just to make sure I had pushed it in the first place. There was one person I forced myself not to think of. On my first day, I had fallen head over heels for Thor. Now that I thought about it, it seemed pretty stupid. Having a crush on him was inconvenient for sure but I was thankful that he had politely declined my advances. All in all, unrequited love hurt like a bitch.
Now, I was better after the whole crush thing. I had a few friends, I worked for a bunch of superheroes and my salary was the bomb lest the degrading part of it. Sometimes I went on dates but it was rare since I was so busy. I barely had time for myself! When the elevator opened, I walked out with my satchel over my shoulder. The air was warm up here compared to the cool elevator ventilation. The sun was shining just as brightly as it had been outside and the birds were chirping. The windows in the corridor reflected a rainbow. I straightened my clothes before I walked into Mr. Stark’s office to pick up Loki’s medical chart. Excitement was bubbling inside of me as I thought about testing his lipids and cholesterol. Loki’s metabolism should have been the envy of every athlete in the world. It was quite impressive how much food he consumed and how fast he burned away all the calories.
I shuffled forward while people passed by me in the hallway. Several of them waved or just nodded. Somehow I still felt out of place. Being the youngest worker here certainly didn’t make it easier on me. I was different from people my age. My degree stuck out like a sore thumb. There was always that feeling of not being good enough. Mr. Stark always soothed my worries about being useful. All the data I gathered for him on the daily had helped treat several people he knew that had suffered from a strange disease after the battle of New York four years ago.
I guess the only good thing about me was being able to stand my ground. I could easily stick up for myself in any situation. Fighting back a smile, I made my typical beeline for the fresh coffee and donuts Mr. Stark supplied for his workers. After grabbing a napkin to wipe the sugary goodness off of my fingers, I bit into my vanilla donut. I poured coffee with just a splash of cinnamon coffee creamer. A true queen’s breakfast. I walked down the hall while I munched on my goodies. It should be an easy day. I didn’t even have to start my labs until the afternoon after some interrogation and a meeting. Mr. Stark hadn’t been too specific about Loki, but I was sure it was a joke when he said Loki escaped. As far as anyone knew, Loki was locked in his room on the fiftieth floor like Rapunzel. Just as I was opening the door to Mr. Stark’s office I stopped right in my tracks. There was someone in his chair. My coffee hit the floor, sloshing the hot liquid all over my boots. It smelled like pine cleaner and…alcohol? My eyes widened when the chair turned.
There he was in all of his Asgardian glory.
I had seen Loki many times. I had seen him in regular human clothes. But I had never seen him in his armor. His cold piercing eyes stared right into mine. His eyes, oh his eyes, were a baby blue color that mesmerized me often. Right now they were dark like endless pools of black murky waters. His black hair was slicked back in his usual style with a few strands tucked behind his ear. The expression he had on his face was wild, animalistic. He didn’t smile. He never did.
Fear shot through me like icy liquid causing me to shiver violently. My legs were numb while pure adrenaline coursed through my veins. It was fight or flight at this point. I had no guard here. Basically, I was fucked. He stood up fluidly with such grace that it made me twinge with jealousy. Even like this, he was still somehow perfect. But something was not right. He staggered slowly. Then it hit me. Loki was drunk.
Perhaps he would kill me in his drunken state. He’d be merciful and do it quickly. His temper was downright scary. I had discovered that on the first day of his blood draws.
“What are you doing here, Loki?” I asked cautiously. He tilted his head and walked closer to me. I could smell the alcohol and it made me gag. I coughed at how strong and potent it was. It was most likely Asgardian ale. Earth alcohol had no effect on Loki or his brother.
“How in the fuck did you escape your room?” There was silence. A look of confusion crossed his delicate features. He didn’t even understand my question. It took all of my willpower not to burst into laughter. Taking a deep breath, I tried to speak to him again and get his attention.
“What am I doing here?” He slurred. He sounded coherent enough. Perhaps the alcohol was being sweated out of his system. It surprised me how strangely calm and collected he sounded at the moment. My thoughts began to wander as I studied Loki’s face. He was really attractive. There was something about his face that didn’t match Thor’s. Loki’s complexion was pale and his milky skin was flawless. Paired with pink thin lips and childlike expressions, overall he was angelic. He towered over every other resident in the Tower. During his first exam, I measured his height. He was an impressive six foot three and a half.
“Where is the tesseract?” His slurring was even more pronounced as he swayed back and forth, eyeing me with a hungry stare. He was heaving instead of taking normal breaths. There was sweat on his forehead. A sickly look graced his perfect face. Even as he scrutinized me, I could feel the power radiating off of him. He truly was a god. A regal and powerful god. He could snap me in half if his heart desired. My bitchy persona was back on as I shook my head. So what if he was inebriated? I could still take him like that.
“The what?” I asked stupidly, cocking my head to the side. I had a pretty vague idea of what he was asking about. “I said what are you-” Before I could finish my sentence, Loki did a very not Loki thing. In three quick strides, he stood in front of me, his frame completely engulfing me. He looked like he had fallen from above, like a malevolent god. The faint smell of pine and snow was coming off of him. His eyes were narrowed. I forgot how to breathe for a second and I swear my heart stopped for a few beats. Swallowing air burned my throat from how terrified I was. The odd feeling of having him so close to me was eerie. He had a thing about being touched without permission and personal space.
“I want the tesseract!” The windows shook from his thunderous voice. “Tell me where I can acquire it!” Loki hissed at me. I was so scared at this point that I began to giggle. This was usually a side effect of pure fear. His swaying did nothing for him. My lips pursed when he leaned down closer to me. A finger lifted a curl from my face and he tucked it behind my ear. A whole second went by before Loki seized my forearm. I yelped in pain, his steely grip squeezing me tightly. My teeth gritted to prevent myself from crying. Several veins in his neck were popping out in anger. Yet, I did not care what he wanted. He was hurting me. Even my teeth began to chatter from the anger I felt at the treatment I was receiving from him. God or not, he shouldn’t treat a person with such disrespect.
“I don’t where your stupid tesseract is, Loki,” I spat out. “And even if I did know, I would never tell someone like you. You are the scum of the universe, Loki Odinson.” And with that, I yanked my arm out of his grip, walked to the window and pulled out my phone to call Mr. Stark. A growl came behind me as Loki charged at me with an incredibly vile expression on his face. He bared his teeth, his eyes absolutely livid. It was the last thing I saw before he grabbed my arms and threw me against the glass windows. I greeted darkness peacefully.
TITLE OF STORY: My best friend, my lover.
CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: 2/?
AUTHOR: skinnylittlered.
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom.
GENRE: Romance.
FIC SUMMARY: Andrea and Tom have been friends since the beginning of time. Until a confession of love is made. This story follows the events of their subsequent relationship (sequel to You Wanna Play that Game? )
RATING: Explicit (language, references to sexual activity).
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: -
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: -
TITLE OF STORY: My best friend, my lover.
CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: 1/?
AUTHOR: skinnylittlered.
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom.
GENRE: Romance.
FIC SUMMARY: Andrea and Tom have been friends since the beginning of time. Until a confession of love is made. This story follows the events of their subsequent relationship (sequel to You Wanna Play that Game? )
RATING: Explicit (language, references to sexual activity).
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: -
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: -
Chapter 1.
As I pull my hair back in quite possibly the fiftieth bun, a bun by which I’m trying to convey that I did try, but at the same time that I didn’t try too much, but inevitably fail for the, quite possibly fiftieth time
Oh @thfrustration , how we miss you so! I ‘member my first forays into the Hiddles fandom, and how welcoming you were. Reading all the fanfics from other talented writers (and some not so talented, but hey, at least they TRIED, and they LEARNED) encouraged me to make my first baby steps into fiction writing. And y’all recognised me! Little ol’ me! Welcomed me with open arms in my first faltering steps! Why, back in them olden days, you could write a story about Tom or one of his characters and hundreds of fans would read your work, and LIKE it, just because you troubled to send it to THF. My personal experience was posting a new chapter and receiving 100 likes within 24 hours! And then some cunts decided to troll the publishers because they couldn’t write and the only fun thing in their lives was tearing down and destroying what other people enjoyed. You fought so hard, but I can’t blame you for throwing up your hands and walking away. But this is my tribute to you ladies of the @thfrustration . You were outstanding, and us old girls miss you…
For those who came on the scene too late to know @thfrustration , please check it out, it’s still up, and many of the links still work. There are some marvelous stories on there.
https://thfrustration.tumblr.com/ IF YOU LIKE THIS, PLEASE REBLOG!
TOM HIDDLESTON FAN FICTION | Admin Posts | A submission - run blog/stories written by other...
Right?? There is some amazing writing in there! Some of my faves are @britishmenaredestroyingmylife @ophelia-tagloff @losille2000 @theothercourse @w-is-for-writing @lettalady @latestarter58 @geminiloveca @marvelousmindloki Oh, so MANY good writers!
I was horrible about actually remembering to update there. But I was just thinking about @twhfrustration this morning @evieplease. Realized I hadn’t seen anything roll across my dash in awhile and meant to look up if the blog was still around.
But YES. It was so welcoming and so diverse! Honestly I’d have to say they were a major reason I got back into writing, not just Tom specific things but writing in general.
(( As one of the “old ones” and one of the former writers/keepers/editors of @thfrustration, years and years ago, I thank you. I miss it too. xx Much love.
– the author formerly known as bluebirdtweets/martinssonconstruction ))
I’m one of the old days admins of thfrustration. I was the one targeted in a witchhunt and the one held responsible for a troll that wasnt part of the hiddleston fandom leaving negative comments on other writers work. (Even one of my written pieces was targeted by the troll.) I gave up being an admin after that since I felt so off about the entire debacle.
Thank you for remembering the good times and my original intent for that blog. I wanted to celebrate in our appreciation of Tom and his talent. I also had a passion for writing then.
I believe one of my dear friends is still an admin there. I just dont think its active anymore. I think the whole no porn on tumblr somewhat killed some of the writers sharing their stuff on that blog. Gosh, I remember they heyday when we’d get 50 submissions/asks a day.
First of all, a huge thank you to evieplease for the shoutout, and for remembering THFrustration after so long. Even when this blog is not what it was anymore, the admins are stil on tumblr. Some of them are less active, some have drifted into other fandoms... but this blog was a labor of love, created by many people along several years, and THF will exist as long as Tom Hiddleston is out there making movies, tv, and theatre for us.
Apart from the things Evie mentioned, the main reason we stopped reblogging/posting was simple: a lack of submissions. Some people left the fandom, others switched to Ao3, others didn’t go through all the hassle of a submission... in any case, the result was that we spent literal months with nothing to publish, and the admins thought the blog didn’t make sense anymore.
Jumping to today, there are a couple of submissions in our inbox. If more of them come, we’ll publish them, of course! Even if this blog will never be as active as it was in Ye Olden Times, we’ll be here while this archive is still useful.
Hiddleshugs for everyone, and eternal love to our dearest Tom.
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS: mentions of death, kidnapping, violence, language
My head felt like a dead weight, heavy and sluggish. It rested on my shoulder, my muscles too weak to keep it up.
My blindfold is still on though I have moved to a different location. I was now sitting in a chair, arms, hands, and legs tied to it.
I groaned as I stretched my muscles, my head the worst pain of my body. The headache was massive and my neck was stiff.
I needed water. Badly too.
As I moved my head off my shoulder, I heard a slight shuffle close to me.
I stilled.
“She wakes” A smooth voice resonated
I heard the opening and a closing of a door. Then proceeded footsteps that echoed off the walls.
I was then blinded by lights as a hand ripped my blindfold off. I was greeted by the faces of two avengers, the Widow and … Loki? I knew he was living at the Avengers Tower but I did not know he was working for them. What a shame, he was a good baddie.
I smiled “Good to see you too,” I said sarcastically
“Listen, we’re not her to torture you,” the Widow said. I looked to Loki then back at Natalia. Both were stern and both had the same look on their faces, the look of skepticism. Loki was more hard to read though, his face said little other than business.
“Then what are you here to do?” I asked and squinted at Natalia.
“We’re here to make a bargain,” Loki replied, I paused, then slowly turned my head to look towards him. I then laughed.
My eyebrows went up,
“Are you serious? You’re kidding right? Do the avengers know about this?” My smile went wider
“That’s why we’re here,” Natalia started and then paused. “We’ve been trying to track someone for days now, but they’re good, really good at laying low, not being seen.” she paused again, “So, we need someone’s help, no one has been able to so closely kill me before without being spotted, so the team decided that you would be helpful to us.”
I listened to her explanation, “I want to make sure I’m hearing this right, all you need me to do is find, catch, and bring a guy back to you? Why isn’t the snake over here able to do that? If this guy your talking about is so tough to get, wouldn’t magic work better than me?” I was skeptical now, none of this made sense. There has to be a catch.
Loki replied before the Widow did, his jaw clenched, obviously he didn’t like my comment about not finding the guy, “I tried, the guy we’re tracking has magical abilities too, able to counteract my own magic.”
I sighed, my neck still sore, “There’s something missing though,” I paused, “Why do you need this guy,”
The Widow looked to Loki, the two of them having a silent conversation,
“We can’t tell you that,” She said I laughed again, “of course you can’t, but I still have one more question, What do I get in return.”
Natalia answered quickly this time, knowing I would probably ask this question. “You would be off of S.H.I.E.L.D’s radar, we wouldn’t bother you, S.H.I.E.L.D or the avengers,”
Now this truly did make me laugh, how dumb could they be?
I tried to find the right words, “You’re telling me, if i catch and give you this guy I would be off of S.H.I.E.L.D’s radar, what if I decided to go kill the president after this? Wouldn’t S.H.I.E.L.D want me then?”
What Loki and Natalia did after I spoke truly unnerved me, they looked uncomfortable.
“What we’re offering is a position on the team, the avengers, I mean,” Natalia said
“Do you think I’m stupid?” I said, Loki huffed, trying to keep a laugh down
“No, but it’s either accept, catch the guy, and then join the team, or you leave, like none of this ever happened.” Natalia said.
I shook my head, “Are you giving free positions to everyone now? All they have to do is do something for you then become an avenger? I don’t buy it,”
A sudden movement, then a hand was on my throat.
“Loki,” the Widow spat
Loki’s eyes bore into mine, his were emerald, the purest green, but what I saw behind them was pure, unending rage.
My heart sped quicker, his hand clenching my throat, “Don’t you dare think that some of us didn’t work for this position,”
What worried me most about this situation, was that I liked it, his hand was cold and smooth which gave more excitement. I struggled and I found out that I was…well, wet.
Fuck, Loki was hot
But as I started to black out, his hand was ripped from my throat, the Widow was between Loki and me.
I smiled and gazed at Loki and as I started right at him I said, “I accept.”
FIC SUMMARY: Loki rescuring Sansa by the battle of Blackwater
RATING: Mature NC-17
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: blood and lemon
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Frostwolf
While the Frostgiants took the Kings Road, Loki drew carefully a circular ornament in the ground of Mud Gate. Thanks to this magical feature he arrived with Sansa, Tyrion and Shae in the early morning at the Gates of Winterfell.
STORY SUMMARY, PART II: Things have gone well for Loki and Stjarnavetr these past five centuries, but it cannot remain so. When Loki unexpectedly betrays those closest to him, Stjarnavetr’s world falls apart. Painful secrets and dark pasts will come to light, love will be tried to the breaking point, and Stjarnavetr must come to terms with the fact that the man she loves is not the man she thought she knew. Through it all, both Loki and Stjarnavetr will come to realize just how far they will go for one another and the sacrifices they will make, no matter the cost.
STORY RATING: Explicit (for strong language, strong sexual content, and graphic violence)
“Nice try, Mannadr!” I smirked, slicing the stale air with Laevateinn, the sword Angrboda had commissioned for me.
Four palace guards stood opposite of me, weapons drawn and poised. Before them lay their comrade whom they had likely known for centuries, whom I had just decapitated and whose black blood was pouring thickly out onto the dusty ground, and whose unfortunate fate simultaneously did not faze them at all.
I was training again—for what, I knew not, only to pass the time, I suppose—and I greatly enjoyed it. It took my mind off other matters, anyway.
I always instructed the guards I happened to train with that day to attack me as if they truly wished to kill me, queen’s father or no. Of course they mechanically obeyed and a few times I had ended up with some rather nasty wounds. Luckily, unlike them, I could heal myself even here and did not have to spend the rest of eternity with half my guts exposed or fallen out.
Many of the guards I had killed this way. Hel once told me that even though we were all dead here, it was possible to die a second time, and there was no coming back from it. By that logic, I suspected it was once again possible to return to life, but Hel had always remained rather tight-lipped on the subject, only fueling my suspicion.
But as of late I had not spoken much to Hel if I could help it.
It was an interesting sight when one of them died. The guard would collapse onto the ground and a few seconds later their bodies would slowly disintegrate into an ashen mound, which would eventually disperse in the dry wind. I would have felt odd killing palace guards simply for my own amusement, but Hel had assured me long ago that the guards were not as the other dead in Helheim; they were mindless and followed orders blindly. There was nothing left over of them from their previous life, save their physical appearance, and there was certainly no shortage of them.
“Try me again!” I shouted at the next biggest one, a gnarly brute called Mannadr who had survived my spars for quite some time. He currently was my ultimate goal.
He came at me, sword raised, feet pounding loudly on the hard-packed earth. He swung, aiming for my head, but I dodged the blow and dropped hard to one knee, bringing my sword around in an arc towards his right leg.
The blade did not meet flesh, however, for he swiftly dodged my blow. I gritted my teeth, leaping to my feet as he turned and attempted once again to decapitate me, likely in some blind revenge for his fallen comrade.
Ultimately, he did not succeed, and like his unfortunate friends before him, lay dying his second death upon the ground. I grinned triumphantly to myself, staring into his eyes as the dullness there became duller and his jaw went slack and his mouth fell open to reveal the blackened stumps of his teeth and whatever shriveled flesh remained of his tongue. I withdrew my sword from his chest just as his skin began to crack and turn greyer.
As soon as I finished wiping his blood on the bottom of my boot, a shout drew my attention.
“My lord!”
It was Ganglati, Hel’s slow-moving manservant and occasional fuck toy.
“What?” I barked.
“Her Majesty requests your presence.”
“Tell her I’m busy,” I replied flatly, turning away and wiping my brow. I would avoid her if I could, and it wasn’t as if Ganglati could do anything.
“It is urgent,” he insisted, though his voice was bland as always. “The queen demands it.”
I rolled my eyes, but did not further acknowledge him. I went to begin another spar, but before I could shout at one of the remaining guards, suddenly I felt Ganglati’s hand around my arm and I turned, shocked to see him standing right next to me.
“The queen demands it,” he repeated, insipid gaze focused on me.
“Alright, alright,” I snapped unnervingly, not wanting to ask how he had gotten across the training yard so quickly.
I handed my sword to the guard by the weapon rack and headed towards the palace. I was annoyed at being summoned. The next meeting was not for another four days and I knew not why Hel would need to speak with me like this so suddenly.
After everything had come to light months ago—or whatever I assumed to be months with the changing of the light in the sky, it could have been much longer or shorter—I had grown an aversion to Hel, likely much to the delight of her mother and my lover, Angrboda. It was not that I hated Hel, but it was that I almost felt sorry for her and did not wish to further complicate things between us by being around her often.
“Where is Hel?” I demanded as Ganglati trailed far behind me, despite his show of sudden dexterity minutes before.
“Her chambers, my lord,” he called out.
I was there in minutes. I went past her guards, threw the doors open, and found Hel standing by her large window. She turned and smiled, which she had not done to me in so long.
“Father.”
“What is it?” I asked, somewhat shortly.
“I have a gift for you,” she answered, suspiciously cheerful.
Her words caught me off guard. Immediately I was wary.
“I was just in the training yard—”
Hel breezed up to me, took my hand, and turned to lead me towards her bedchamber.
“Did you kill any guards?”
My skin crawled at her touch. After learning of Hel’s rather iniquitous feelings for me, I felt uneasy at her proximity.
“Yes, two.”
“Wonderful,” she said brightly, in her normal gritty rasp.
Now she stopped at the closed doors and turned to face me, withdrawing her hand and abruptly appearing remorseful.
“Before we proceed, I would like to say that I am sorry if I have offended you in any way,” she admitted. “I did not mean for things to change so between us. I do not like how we have been lately and hope we may overcome this.”
“Er…”
“I hope sincerely that this will make it up to you,” she continued with a blossoming smile, pushing the doors open and leading me inside.
“Hel—”
“Look what I have for you, Father.”
My eyes were drawn immediately across the room towards the fireplace, and I was surprised to see a woman standing there in a faded white dress with her back to us. At the sound of Hel’s voice, however, the woman turned, and something like a jolt went through me.
She was very beautiful, with pale grey eyes and full lips. Her hair was a lovely light gold and fell in pretty waves over her shoulders and down to her waist, which was cinched with a thin, plain brown belt. She tilted her head ever so slightly, lips twitching upwards in a small smile of what appeared to strangely be apperception.
I stared at her for a long, bewildering moment, searching her eyes, oblivious now to Hel’s idiotic grin. There was something in the back of my mind suddenly, clawing its way to the forefront, screaming to be recognized, and when it hit me the useless breath left my lungs and the darkness in my mind receded and I knew her.
I was across the room in seconds, a warmth like I had not felt in so long blooming inside me, filling my stomach and chest and limbs as I enfolded her into my arms, heard my name fall from her now trembling lips followed by a sob of what I recognized as happiness.
I tangled my fingers in her hair, pulling so I could see her face, her lovely, wonderful, beautiful face, the most beautiful face I had ever seen, and I was kissing her lips, her nose, her forehead and eyelids and chin, anywhere I could reach.
She smiled and pulled me close as I buried my face into her neck, breathing her in. She did not smell like she always had, but then again could I even remember? She only smelled cold, if cold had a smell—even her hair did not smell like anything.
“Stjarna,” I said, grinning widely, feeling my own eyes sting with tears. I could not think to stammer anything but her name, her name which to my eternal regret I had almost forgotten. “Stjarna, Stjarna…”
I pulled back to look at her again and saw tears streaming down her face, and it was only then when I finally registered the deadly pallor of her skin. My brows furrowed in concern as I gently ran my thumb over her cool, wet cheek.
“Stjarna?”
I turned to Hel, anger rising suddenly in me like a wave.
“Why is she here?” I demanded furiously. It was a leap, but with how shrewdly Hel had been smirking, presenting Stjarna to me as a “gift,” led me to believe she’d had something to do with this.
Hel quirked an eyebrow. “She died, obviously.”
I stared at her.
“No, Loki,” Stjarna said, and her voice sent a rivulet of pleasure through me, momentarily quelling the anger inside me. She took my face in her hands and I couldn’t tear my eyes from hers, shiny with tears. “I was in Vanaheim—”
“Vanaheim? Why were you in Vanaheim?”
“I…” she faltered, appearing almost pained. “After you killed Freyja, Valdrlund demanded recompense. Thor had no choice…”
“I don’t understand…”
Her lips trembled. “I was… I was the recompense, Loki…”
“Thor gave you to him?” I growled, gritting my teeth.
“He had to,” she said sadly. “I did not want to go, but there was nothing to be done. Valdrlund threatened war.”
Suddenly, something awful took form in my mind, banishing this warmth inside and filling me instead with this cold dread.
“Did he… what did he…” I placed my hands on hers on my cheeks, staring at her in worry.
“I did it, Loki,” Stjarna said, managing a quivering smile. “I killed him.”
My lips parted in surprise.
“We were… we were…” she glanced down now, reluctant to speak. “He insulted you and I grew so angry, Loki, for all he had done and I… I…”
“Oh, Stjarna,” I breathed, closing my eyes and pressing my forehead to hers, worry churning sickeningly inside me. “Did they hurt you?”
“No. They were going to execute me, but…” Stjarna’s large grey eyes flickered over to Hel, who tilted her head and shrewdly curtsied when acknowledged.
“Hel?”
“I paid her a little visit in prison,” Hel explained nonchalantly. “It was no trouble.”
So that was where Hel had been this morning.
I turned back to Stjarna, knowing not whether to feel rage for her having died by the hands of my daughter, or joy for her standing here with me.
“You may go,” Hel said, not bothering to mask her arrogant smile, as I took Stjarna’s hand and led her out. “I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on.”
Her harsh laughter rang out as the doors closed resoundingly behind us.
__
I could not stop looking at her, even as I led her slowly and aimlessly around Eljudnir.
I was remembering every aspect of her features, both saddened and upset with myself that I could have dared to forget any part of her. Her laugh, her smile, the way her hand felt against me or lips upon mine.
It was as if something had opened up inside me, something I could not explain, and every waking moment from then on I needed to be with her, to remind me of the light and love I had lost and so desperately wanted back, everything I had forgotten and wanted to remember.
I had Stjarna recount to me everything that had happened since my death, which I learned had been less than two years ago. Stjarna possessed a much heartier memory than I had when I had come here, but I suspected it had something to do with the way she had died and Hel being the one to have personally brought her here to Helheim.
As she spoke I studied her face, the way her lips formed every syllable, her hand movements, and I was conjuring memories I believed to have been permanently buried or even gone. The tiniest details began to emerge from my subconscious with every word and I wanted to be angry for all that had transpired after my death to my beloved Vana, and that we should be reunited in such a dreadful place, but I could hardly evoke the emotion with her standing so real in front of me, all smiles and void of any negativity.
She was here now, and we were together again.
“Tell me of this place,” Stjarna said as we walked around the edge of the palace, lacing her fingers with mine. “Hel did not say much.”
And so I told her of Helheim, a bleak and lonely realm divided into nine regions where the dead resided, domed by a sky that wasn’t a sky, but still by some magic gave the appearance of night and day. I spoke of our life here, and much in the same way Hel had explained everything to me when I had come here.
How these forms we possessed were not our actual bodies, but what was left of our souls manifested physically here. We still behaved like the living—eating, drinking, carousing, and even breathing, despite the fact we did not need to.
I laughed when Stjarna tried it and was startled upon realizing she did not have to actually breathe, but preferred to like the rest of us to retain some semblance of our life.
Inevitably, she inquired about Hel and Angrboda.
At that point we were headed back to my chambers, having inadvertently explored most of the grounds.
“Hel is queen here.”
“And she is your daughter.”
“Yes.”
“By Angrboda?”
“Yes.”
Stjarna was quiet for a long moment.
“Hel told me Angrboda was here, as well.”
I nodded, not really wanting to speak of Angrboda for the shame coursing through me now. Could I bear to tell her I had taken up with my giantess again? But of course I could not stay with Angrboda.
I did not speak on it.
“These are my chambers,” I announced when we finally reached them. I opened the door, praying Angrboda was elsewhere.
Stjarna entered and I shut the door behind me and quietly locked it, in case Angrboda decided to drop in any time soon. I’d have to find her later, tell her we were done. I almost found it surprising, how entirely I had devoted myself to her, and seemingly felt nothing now that Stjarna was here. Angrboda would not be pleased with my fleeting emotions.
Stjarna walked around, quietly studying my rooms.
“It is similar to your chambers on Asgard,” she remarked softly.
My eyes followed her as she continued her slow, investigatory procession around the room, touching various things. I was surprised somewhat at her comment, that here she should remember so trivial a fact, though it was strangely comforting to hear those words.
“Some things are different, though it is much the same,” she observed, wandering out to the balcony. “I will get used to it, though.”
“You will, as did I,” I answered, coming up behind her to wrap my arms around her waist.
“Are you happy here, Loki?”
“I am now,” I replied, kissing her cheek from behind.
“It almost does not seem real,” she mused somberly, leaning into me. “I did not think I would ever see you again.”
I only kissed her, hopefully offering some comfort, and unwilling to admit I had nearly forgotten her. I wondered if I had ever been this ashamed in my previous life. I doubted it.
“I am glad Hel brought me here, though,” Stjarna continued, turning in my arms to face me. She cupped my face and lifted up on her toes to gently kiss my lips. “It matters not where I am, as long as I am with you.”
I grinned, soaking up her words, and did not think I could wait any longer.
Stjarna giggled knowingly as I pulled her backwards into my chambers, drawing her tight against me so I could rain kisses eagerly across her face. She just as fervently returned my affections, and we lay together for the first time in seemingly forever, and in the end it was as if nothing had changed between us, save for the ceasing of our hearts.
My Stjarna was so different from Angrboda. There was something in her kisses not present in Angrboda’s, warmth in her eyes instead of cold pitilessness, the way she gasped my name so filled with reverence, clutching at me as if I was the source of her existence, and how afterwards when we lay breathless, still entwined, she enfolded herself into me and told me how much she loved me.
Since neither of us wished to be anywhere but here with the other, Stjarna and I remained in my chambers the rest of the afternoon and all through the evening and night—talking, joking, reminiscing and making love. It was the happiest I had been since I could remember, and in those moments could not imagine what possibly might come next. But for now, I hardly cared.
__
Some days passed, all of them in a haze.
I came to peace quite quickly with Stjarna’s arrival. Of course I was delighted to have her with me again, but initially had hardly known who to be furious with. Valdrlund for daring to claim her and abuse her, or Thor for sending her off to Vanaheim in the first place; Hel for bringing Stjarna here, or Stjarna for being more than happy to die to be with me again.
Stjarna assured me repeatedly that all was well and she was happy, when I began to think of it and would grow angry all over again. Eventually, I tried to not think of it like that, and only considered the fact that Stjarna was here with me again.
Hel thought it all quite amusing, commenting laughingly that she would never have expected me to behave in such a manner. I cared not, though—Stjarna was here and was all I could think of. We spent every waking moment together.
One day I was strolling around the grounds with Stjarna. A dry breeze was blowing, occasionally whipping up the dusty ground.
“Loki?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, anything.”
Stjarna appeared reluctant and we stopped.
“Is Valdrlund here?”
I was silent for a moment.
“Hel explained it to me like this. All are equal here, no matter what we were in our past life. He is here, but he likely does not remember any of his past life. If he does, he will soon forget it.”
“Why do I not?” she asked curiously. “I have heard this, but I remember everything.”
I looked up, thinking.
“Perhaps it was the way you died. I will admit, Stjarna, I was forgetting much of my life until you came here. Oddly enough you being with me now reminds me of much of it.”
She smiled. “That is a good thing?”
I grinned at her and took her hand in mine, continuing to walk. “That is a very good thing.”
“My parents are here, aren’t they?”
“Yes, as are mine.”
I had thought of them, Frigga and Odin. Sometimes it pained me to think they were here, that though we might be so close, I might never see them, and they might not even remember me. It seemed amazing how drastically things had changed, and how much initially I had forgotten even of them. I knew in my life I had loved and revered Odin, and at one time reviled him, but nothing seemed so important anymore. I knew if I could, I might embrace him again if I saw him, and my mother…
“I wonder if they found one another here,” Stjarna wondered. “I wonder if they are happy.”
I knew not how to reply to that, and Stjarna appeared saddened.
By now we had reached the training grounds. There was not a soul in sight, but then again there never was unless I was training.
“Is there war here?” Stjarna asked, gazing inquisitively at a weapon rack.
“No. The most conflict in this place is between individuals.”
“So why did you build this?”
“I was bored.”
Stjarna laughed. “Well, I am glad there is a library. I never thought there would be a library in the realm of the dead.”
I smiled, but Stjarna wasn’t looking at me anymore. I followed her suddenly somber gaze across the training yard and my guts immediately tightened.
Standing serenely by herself on the path on the other side of the yard, and staring at us, was Angrboda.
I highly doubted she had been strolling around Eljudnir by herself and just so happened to end up at the training ground the same time as us.
“Is that Angrboda?” Stjarna asked softly.
I looked at her, almost not wishing to admit it.
“Yes.”
Stjarna gave a small nod and did not resist as I hooked her arm with mine and turned us to continue our walk in the direction we had just come from.
Having them speak was the last thing I wanted, if only to spare Stjarna the sordid details I knew Angrboda would only be too happy to divulge.
__
A few days later, there was a meeting of representatives.
I slipped out of bed, readied, and kissed Stjarna before leaving. She stretched, smiling at me as I told her I would be gone for a few hours, but I would be back soon.
The meeting was boring, as usual. Nothing of interest, though Hel did snap at Gaumr when he interrupted her and spoke a little too sharply to another representative.
Afterwards, I headed back to my chambers, eager to slip back into bed with Stjarna.
I rounded a corner and was only momentarily surprised to see Angrboda leaning against a column, obviously waiting for me.
“Good morning,” she purred, eyes locked on me. By her expression it did not appear to truly be a good morning.
“Angrboda,” I coolly acknowledged.
“This might be a bit of a leap, Loki, but… I do think you’ve been avoiding me.”
“You’re just now noticing that?” I dismissed, going to brush past her.
“Busy with that new plaything of yours?”
I stopped, unable to help the smile that spread involuntarily across my face.
“Are you jealous, darling?” I smirked, turning with somewhat of an arrogant flourish.
The corner of her lips twitched, but then she returned my smile and sauntered deliberately up to me.
“Why would I be jealous, Loki? I know she cannot possibly satisfy you as I did.”
I laughed, amused at the notion, when Angrboda stepped closer and placed her hand on my chest.
“You don’t look at her like you do me, I see it.”
“Then you are blind as well as ignorant,” I retorted. “There is no one I look at as I do you, but it is not with what you want, Angrboda.”
“So what were all of those heated declarations, Loki? When you told me you loved me and I was all there was?”
“Chalk it up to my being drunk on death, darling,” I replied tautly.
Angrboda was not amused.
“Would she see it as such?” she asked, running her fingers down my arm.
I pulled away, vaguely annoyed.
“You do not love her as you do me.”
“You’re right,” I replied, attempting somewhat to mask my true emotion. It almost pained me to admit it, but some part of me loved Angrboda. I had admitted it to myself long ago, and to her multiple times, in the dark of the night and clouded in lust and headiness, but it was not the type of love I held for Stjarna. It was a love I was more than willing to leave to die.
“Why do you partake in this foolishness?” she demanded, suddenly heated, when I went to turn, realizing she was losing whatever was left of this useless conversation. “Why do you waste your time on that Vana wench?”
“I am not wasting my time,” I retorted. “But you are. You and I, we’re through.”
Angrboda’s brows slightly lifted, but other than that there was nothing else to betray her emotion.
“You spurn me for her?”
“It was always her, Angrboda,” I replied, somewhat exasperated. “I—”
“You think Hel did you a favor, Loki?” Angrboda snarled, baring her sharpened teeth. “You think she did this out of love?”
“Absolutely not,” I responded immediately, unwilling to fall into Angrboda’s baiting. “Whatever manifests itself in Hel is not love.”
I had not spoken much to Hel since Stjarna’s arrival here in Helheim, but then again had been pretty much taken up with Stjarna and been able to think of little else. I did not dismiss Angrboda’s accusation, though. I had no doubt Hel had done this simply to spite her mother, whom she hated.
“Of course she killed your lover only to torment me.”
“What, can you not to stand to lose me, Angrboda?” I laughed. “It is almost comical. You finally have me after so long, and now I’m snatched away again.”
That must’ve been the wrong thing to say to an angry giantess; I did not flinch or recoil as she came quickly forward and roughly took a fistful of my tunic in her hands, pulling me close.
“Are you spited, love?” I taunted.
She pressed her lips together, black eyes narrowed dangerously.
“You think me jealous of that her, Loki? She is naught more than a distraction.”
“From what?” I goaded.
“Your true purpose.”
I chuckled, realizing. Angrboda believed Hel had given Stjarna to me to prevent Angrboda’s grand scheme for me, one of the reasons she had gifted me the sword Laevantinn. Occupied these past days with Stjarna, I had practically forgotten Angrboda’s lust for me to go to war for her against the world, to lead an army of the dead against those who had wronged her.
“You laugh, but you cannot see,” she spat.
“And what is it that I do not see?” I asked tightly, reaching to disentangle her fingers from my tunic.
“Your destiny,” Angrboda growled. “Fucking her will not stop it.”
“The only destiny you hope for me will never come to be,” I said firmly. “And whatever there is left of it, you are no longer a part of it.”
I turned to leave, but before I could make it even a step, abruptly I felt Angrboda’s iron grip on my shoulder and she jerked me backwards and spun me around to confront her fury.
“You will not spurn me for that Vana whore!”
“Do not touch me, Angrboda,” I bit out, any semblance of restraint vanished with her hostility towards Stjarna.
“Do not think that I won’t—”
But before Angrboda could spit another word out, my hand was around her throat and her back to the wall. I dug my fingers into her neck, pressing the length of my forearm firmly against her front to keep her still.
“You will stay away from her,” I growled, staring fixedly into the angry, inky blackness of her eyes. “If you dare to touch her, I will kill you, and not even our daughter will be able to save you.”
Her gaze was cold, wrathful.
“Only for you, lover.”
I remained motionless, debating on whether to describe to her in lurid detail the endless agony I might inflict on her if she were to carry out any harm against Stjarna, but then I had no doubt Angrboda already had some idea what might befall her if she were to proceed with any part of her vengeful deliberations.
I roughly released her, turned on my heel, and returned to my chambers, where I found Stjarna still sleeping peacefully.
__
A few days later, Stjarna and I were relaxing in my chambers.
We had spent nearly the entire morning in bed before requesting for food to be brought. The remains of our little midday meal lay on my table. I lounged in bed, finishing a glass of dark red wine. For the realm of the dead, Helheim’s vineyard produced remarkably delicious wines.
Stjarna was standing at the open window, a fairly sheer robe wrapped around her, hands poised lightly on the sill. Soon after Stjarna’s arrival, I had requested of Hel a wardrobe made for Stjarna. I would not have my lover dressed here forever in her death shroud. She was staring outside, watching the rain fall and turning the already barren landscape even greyer.
“It rains here,” Stjarna murmured.
“Yes, I believe there is some enchantment over this place,” I replied from the bed. “It certainly does help with the monotony.”
“I’m glad it rains,” she said. In her voice I detected a hint of sadness, so I set the glass of wine on the bedside table and got up to stand behind her. I wrapped my arms around Stjarna and she melted into my embrace.
“Why do you like that it rains?” I inquired.
She shrugged.
“It is just something else like up there.”
“Ah,” I said, somewhat uncertainly. Then, tentatively, masking the tinge of worry, “Are you unhappy here?”
“No,” she replied, turning in my arms. She cupped my face in her hands and offered me a small, reassuring smile. “I am simply thinking about my family.”
“Konavefr and Dreyma and the boys?” I offered. I suspected Stjarna’s step-mother and sister-in-law and nephews still resided in Asgard.
She nodded. “I wonder if they… if they know…”
I kissed her forehead. “There’s no way to tell, but I’d suspect not.”
She gave a little nod and let her hands fall slowly to my chest. “It is almost comforting to know that.”
“I am sorry,” I murmured.
“It cannot be helped,” she replied with a small smile. “I am only grateful we are together again.”
I placed a gentle kiss on her lips, then her nose, and swallowed.
“Stjarna?”
“Hmm?” She murmured, leaning into me and moving her hands around my sides to my back.
I hesitated.
Shortly after Stjarna had arrived here in Helheim, and we had begun reminiscing over all that happened, I had recalled that shortly before my death, I had asked Stjarna to marry me. I had not spoken of it, but constantly it was nagging at the back of my mind.
But I could remember now Stjarna’s reaction in Asgard, and did not hesitate now.
“Will you marry me?”
There was a brief silence, then she pulled back to stare at me. Her lips were parted in surprise and I grinned amusedly, moving to grab her hands and lace her fingers with mine.
“We were not able to get quite that far, if you remember…”
“I remember,” she whispered, lips curling into a smile. “You still want to marry me?”
At that, I burst into laughter.
“What kind of question is that? Of course I still want to marry you, Stjarna. I always wanted to, I was just too stupid to realize it for most of the time.”
Stjarna echoed my laughter and it was music to my ears.
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS: mentions of death, kidnapping, violence, language
I remember working with the Widow, her and I were… co-workers at one point, long ago before she joined S.H.I.E.L.D. And today’s work involves something a little different than working together. It has been at least five years that the Widow abandoned her post as a world famous assassin, and abandoned me as well.
Her name is Black Widow and her and I were once a great team of assassins. Give us an order and we would get the job done within 48 hours. We were well known by mercenaries and assailants. We worked with Department X and trained at the Red Room, I’ve known Natalia for at least 20 years but today I renounce all of it. Her betrayal, her double-cross of me… hurt, and I was trained to never feel emotion.
Natalia knows I’ve been going after her for years now, ever since she went of the radar and then appeared, with S.H.I.E.L.D behind her.
So today is the day that I end it all.
~~~**~~~
I sat perched on a rooftop in New York, not far down from the Avengers tower, I heard that the Widow was supposed to be doing a little session with a small kids karate class. How cute.
I had my rifle set up and my scope attached, peering through I searched for the Widow.
It didn’t take long, about 20 minutes in I spotted her, the red hair, clear skin, and the S.H.I.E.L.D symbol on her catsuit.
I took aim, cocking my head to inspect my target, making sure I would have a clear and clean shot. The Widow was standing still, perfect, but I didn’t shoot, someone was coming down the alley and was calling the Widow’s name.
I was now curious.
Information is always an asset. That was one of the first things you learned at the Red Room.
I wish I brought all of my equipment, I could only read so much from lips.
“So you need my help,” The man from the alley said
The Widow paused, suspicious, “Yes”
The man cocked his head, “What for?”
“You know I am unable to tell you that,” The Widow replied
The rest of the conversation was cut off when they turned towards the alleyway.
I wrote my encounter on a piece of paper and stuck it in one of my many pockets. It was interesting to see the Widow do business without the rest of the avengers with her. Clearly the rest of the avengers didn’t know about this.
The conversation between the Widow and the man ended quickly and the Widow then went on her way to the Karate class.
I waited for a half hour when the Widow appeared again, I took aim waiting for the perfect moment. She walked down the sidewalk at an easy pace, not in a rush. It was easy to keep a target on her. I kept my finger on the trigger, perfectly still.
This was my favourite part, the impatience of the kill, the way your heart beats faster as the kill comes closer.
I let out a breath.
I pull the trigger.
But I miss……
How…
This can’t be happening…
I never miss…
I see the Widow duck and cover her head and I start to quickly disassemble and pack my equipment. But as I work, I spot a shadow in my peripheral vision and I take out a dagger that was strapped to my leg. I hold it close to me, ready to strike.
The shadow comes towards me at an eerie pace.
And as I stand up to strike, I feel a black sack come over my face from behind. I am in darkness.
This was an ambush, Natalia knew I would be here tonight.
I was handcuffed, picked up, and thrown into something sort of a van.
FIC SUMMARY: Loki rescuring Sansa by the battle of Blackwater
RATING: Mature NC-17
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: blood and lemon
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Frostwolf
The Red Keep was burning. Green Flames licked on the stonewall and burned the grout between the stones to ashes. „In the morning there will be no more stone on another“, realized Sansa.
FIC SUMMARY: Loki rescuring Sansa by the battle of Blackwater
RATING: Mature NC-17
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: blood and lemon
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Frostwolf
Sansa stood with a smile on her lips at her window and watched the magic fire. Green flames licked at the wall of King’s Landing.
She smelled the flesh of the burning bodys, heard the screams of Lanister soldiers and her heart beat faster. There was also the shouting and laughing of the strange horde of giants behind the wall.
The few she could see looked a bit like the Snowwalker the old nanny in Winterfell had told her about. And Bran. And Arya. This seemed a thousand years ago.
But these snowwalkers were blue like dirty ice, not white like snow. They were quick and sharp moving and danced more than they fought. Not the slow walk her nanny had told about the others. These giants were alive and strong - and killers.
„The world is built by killers“, she heard the Hound’s last words in her mind.
He was here before. To save her, so he said. He truly thought these giants outside the wall would hurt her.
Sansa needed all her strength and courtesy to play the fearful maiden, but at last she had said no. He was a ugly, stinky, drunken dog … but she would not kick him.
He had saved her pretty face often enough, that she never would forget. At the end he was to proud to beg – the Gods are good! - and let go. She tried to calm him and sent him away.
‘Let the mother look after him’, Sansa thought and suddenly she heard the loud crackling sound of breaking wood. She could not see the Gate of Mudwater, but the shouts of triumph from the giants was answer enough.
'King’s Landing will fall tonight. But for what?’, she thought. 'Will he have me or his revenge?’
Could he forget Sansas choice? A choice she had made when she had been very young and very stupid.
She could have had the Winter Prince, a year ago. Although in exil for the moment and at this time without an own kingdom. But he was gentle and brave and strong and her father liked him very much.
By remembering her father, Sansas eyes started to fill with tears.
She had murdered her father, this she understood now. Murdered him with her wrong choice for the young and handsome prince of King’s Landing.
'I had forgotten I am the blood of Winterfell’, Sansa thought. 'The Winter Prince would had suited me well – not the Summer Prince. And my father had to die for this.’
All the things that had happened to her seemed like her punishment for her betrayal. The beating by the knights, the stripping in front of the court, the riot and the violence against her.
- “We have a guest.” Sansa turned to her sister. Arya had stormed into her chamber without knocking, as usual dressed in boys clothes. “Father found him in the wood’s!”
“What are you talking about?”, Sansa laughed and rose from her chair. “A guest from the woods?”
For a silly moment she thought of the children of the woods and that Father had found one of this mystical creatures. She didn’t knew how close she came with this idea.
“A sorcerer boy, well a prince. So he said.”, Arya starts to explain. She took Sansa’s hand and drew her sister to the window.
“Arg.. Arya! You are making me all dirty! Why must you be always such a mess?”
“Shh! Stop that and look!” Arya pointed outside the window to the back yard and the stable.
And Sansa saw Loki the first time.
A young man, slender and tens like a archer, sitting on a horse as if he was born on one. The pale, thin face full of confidence, his piercing green eyes intelligent and glittering in amusement. He rode with Lord Eddard and a group of hunters back to the stables.
Arya must had talked to loud there he looked up. Loki’s eye catched Sansa and he smirked wide. -
Sansa sighed and tried to follow the fight under her window. Now she could watch the giants better. Blue skinned, red eyed, shouting, joyfully laughing, they smashed all living souls on the streets. This was no battle. This was slaughter.
So near by her window, the green magic fire like daylight, she realized the shiny knives in the hands of the giants were no knives. There were the giant’s hands, morphed into sharp, icy spears.
Dead bodys piled against the inner wall and blood covered the cobbles in front of the Red Keep. She understood completly why the Hound was so afraid. Her own fear lay like a stone in her stomach. With wild beating heart and dry mouth Sansa saw the blue giants entering the Red Keep.
'What will happen to all the women?’ The question hit her like a massive blow. If she was the queen, she would ask for mercy. She would beg to leave the women alone and take her instead. A queen had to be more valuable than a high lady.
“Ceisei“, Sansa whispered. This queen knew only one form of mercy. Sir Illen’s sword.
Slow panic started to burn in Sansa. Should she go back and try to help? But what could she do? She was not the queen, she was only a traitor’s daughter and a sweet slice of cake, she recalled bitterly. But Sansa prayed to the gods to have mercy, for Ceisei, too. She prayed so hard to the old gods, someone must have heard her!
Suddenly there were heavy footsteps near her chamber. Now it would happen. Someone came for her.
With shaking knees she sidled without a noise into the shadow of the door, so she could watch the entering person before he saw her.
Breathlessly Sansa saw the door open slowly, and the silhouette of a tall human entered her bedroom.
He held a candle in his right hand, which he raised to bring more light into her chamber.
By this light she recognized him. His hair laid now long and wild on his back and he was in full amour of heavy green leather and metal plating, which she had never sawn on him before.
The year before she left Winterfell, he was a gentle, joyfull man. But now he was one of them. A killer. Sansa saw this in the way he moved, the way he stood.
Suddenly he turned his head, and his green eyes caught hers.
Sansas heart stopped for a moment. His face had changed most. His youth and freshness was gone and replaced by pale skin and deep sunken eyes. There was a shimmer of rage and hunger in them, that made Sansa fear he had come finally just to hurt her.
"There you are“, he hissed. To Sansas relief he smiled softly. The exiled prince of frostland was not gone altogether.
With a careful move he went a step nearer and began: “I have a gift fo-“ but in this moment Sansa saw what this gift was, saw the fleshy thing of blond hair and blood and literally jumped in his arms.
„My King!“, she laughed and cried at the same time and covered his face with kisses and tears.
Surprises he let go of her gift and Sansa heard the sound of flesh and bones droped on the ground and felt his strong embrace at the same moment.
Their lips found each other and she pressed her mouth harshly on his.
He was bitter and cold and spicy and for her it was the best she ever tasted. „This time I will not let him go“, she thought and licked his lips.
FIC SUMMARY: Sansa and Loki are having a ritual for their sex life
RATING: Mature NC-17 lemon
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: smut
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Frostwolf
The knock on the door was softly and short.Sansa recognised by the sound who stands behind it. Her maid gave her one shyness look and Sansa nodded to her.
“You can leave for tonight”, she informed her.
Her maid turned with a hidden smile to the door and let by her leave Sansas guest in.
TITLE OF STORY: The Loki Equation
CHAPTER NUMBER: Part 24
AUTHOR: Spiesinthedark
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Loki
GENRE: Adventure/Romance
FIC SUMMARY: Odd things begin to happen to a fanfiction writer….
RATING: T
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Language
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Loki Equation - Part 24
Loki’s car motored into a section of Charlotte that I had never been to, which said a lot. My roommate Mary and I took pride in our knowledge of the city, and most of our weekends in college had been spent driving and walking every neighborhood we could find. This place was unfamiliar, and honestly, I wished it would stay that way.
The streets were dark. Streetlights were few and far in between. What few there were were either smashed out or flickering sporadically. Big warehouses lined each side of the pitted, pothole-filled road. There were chain link fences, and the occasional vacant lot filled with trash. Buildings were dark, and there wasn’t a single human in sight. Not a city bus or stray cat, no movement at all. This was literally Silent Hill.
Loki swung his car around on Epsom Street, pulling up outside a grey warehouse with a sign that read “Foster Corp.”. He shut the headlights off and we sat in the dark for a few minutes. There were no lights on in the building, no cars in the small parking lot, which was lit by a single, dim floodlight.
“This is the place?” I asked Loki, peering through the window.
“Yes,” he replied, his eyes focused in the same direction as mine. “There is at least one book here, according to the source that I found.”
I twisted in my seat, to look at him. He hadn’t been clear on exactly what these books were, although I had helped him find two of them. I said as much to him now.
Loki sighed, and answered without looking at me. “Without overly complicating the explanation, they are what you would consider to be ‘magic’. They contain quite a lot of arcane wisdom and spells, powerful even in my world, which is why they were kept apart, in four cities. When all four are put together, the magic builds up, ready for anyone with the intent to use it, whether that is for good or…evil.”
He looked down at me now, and added “They should not be here, on your world, let alone all in the same city.”
I took this all this info in, and asked “Where are the two that we’ve already found?”.
“Back in Asgard, safe” he answered, smiling slightly.
“Okay, so everything should be fine, right? Don’t all four need to be in the same place for the end of the world to happen?” I asked.
Loki’s eyebrows raised, but he still answered “Even one book has enough power to destroy half of this city, if the wrong person figures out how to use it. It’s vital that the remaining two are found and returned to their homes.”
Fair enough, it made sense. I didn’t really believe in magic, as much as I loved Harry Potter. That opinion was slowly changing, though, the more time I spent with Loki. He made things happen that I couldn’t explain and had a nasty habit of showing up in my apartment when I KNOW I locked my door. Not to mention he could make a basket of cheese fries disappear in two minutes flat while I was in the restroom.
“What’s the plan?” I asked him, unbuckling my seat belt and pulling the pink flashlight out of my hoodie pocket.
He unbuckled too, turning the car off and pocketing the keys. “We get into the building and find the book, hopefully avoiding anyone that may be on guard inside”.
“What about cameras?” I asked, “Or an alarm system?”
He smiled and angled out of the car, shutting the door behind him. I followed, shutting my own door as quietly as possible. “The cameras won’t work while I’m in the area” he said.
“I’m sorry, what?” I said, finding that hard to believe.
His smile was bright in the darkness. “I think you are confusing me with the men you’re used to, darling. I’m a god, remember?”.
Be still, my heart. We were about to commit a B&E and he was still charming. Good thing I had a pretty clear arrest record, just in case.
Loki had parked half a block down from the building’s private parking lot, so we made our way across the grass and around to the side of the warehouse. He went first, with me trailing along behind, flashlight in hand, making our way to a side door.
I trained the flashlight beam on the door handle, while Loki tried it. Locked. He put his shoulder to it, and to my extreme surprise, the lock popped and the door swung inward. “Wow,” I whispered, “Nice!”. He grinned at me, and we stepped through the dark doorway, shutting the slightly dented door behind us.
No alarm sounded, so I figured that was a good sign. I shined the flashlight around the room. It was an office, but a really empty one. There were big glass windows on one end of the room, with blinds covering them. A few small desks were positioned around the room, each with a folding chair. As we moved around the room, I noticed that there were no computers. No phones either. There were file cabinets on one wall, and I curiously pulled one open. Empty. I randomly pulled open another cabinet, empty as well. I pointed this out to Loki.
“Well, my previous theory was correct” he whispered to me, “This is a shell office. No work happens here, I imagine.”
I believed him, that’s exactly what it looked like. What kind of office had no phones, computers, files, or even a coffee machine? A fake office, that’s what kind. I crossed the room and peeked out of the blinds. It was the parking lot in front of the building.
“This is the office section of the building,” I quietly said to Loki, “Door over there must lead to the warehouse part”. I pointed to the door to the right, and Loki put his ear to it.
“I don’t hear anything on the other side,” he said, trying the door handle. This one wasn’t locked.
He slowly pushed the door open, and I shined my flashlight in. The sight inside made both of our mouths drop open.
“Shit” he breathed. I completely agreed with his sentiment
TITLE OF STORY: Let Me Entertain You
CHAPTER NUMBER: Oneshot
AUTHOR: FadingCoast
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Tom
GENRE: Erotica || PWP
FIC SUMMARY: You’ve been having an awful week at work, leaving you so tired and drained, Tom takes it on himself to make you feel better.
RATING: Explicit
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Sub!Tom/Domme!Reader
.-
It was a rare occurrence for Tom to get home before you did, but these last few weeks it had been more common than not. He knew your work was demanding, but your hours were getting ridiculous! And he also missed you. Getting home for him was abandoning himself to you, letting you take control. Now you were either home very late or too tired.
Today wasn’t the exception. Tom was already in bed, munching some chips and watching tv when he heard the door. He jumped to tidy the bed, as he heard the jingle of the keys on the table and the thump of your bag on the floor. But you never made it to the bedroom.
TITLE OF STORY: The Loki Equation
CHAPTER NUMBER: Part 23
AUTHOR: Spiesinthedark
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Loki
GENRE: Adventure/Romance
FIC SUMMARY: Odd things begin to happen to a fanfiction writer….
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Language, sexual innuendos
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Why do you have that look on your face?”
“I don’t know…it’s just…not what I expected.”
“And what were you expecting, exactly?”
“Well…not this color, that’s for sure. And it’s a lot bigger than I thought it would be, honestly.”
“Thank you darling. How does it feel?”
“Good. It’s heavy, but I feel like I could hit someone with it.”
I hefted the thick pink flashlight, miming a swing at an imaginary adversary’s head. I don’t know if I could kill someone with it, but it could do some serious damage, despite the unfortunate color.
Loki had dropped a gym bag onto my dining room table and was digging through it, handing things out to me. A black sweatshirt, a fanny pack, a retractable stick thing that could easily bust out a kneecap or two. And granola bars, bless him. I’m a snacker.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked, pulling the sweatshirt over my head and picking up the fanny pack.
He pulled out what looked like a building blueprint, spreading it out and holding down the corners with few snack bars. “This is, allegedly, a shipping company’s warehouse. It’s on the south side of the city, and could possibly be the hiding place of one of the two remaining books that we need to recover. Or so I have gathered from a charming individual that resisted my questioning…at first.”
“Why do you say allegedly?” I asked.
“I have completed some preliminary research. The building has no registered owners or executives, no phone number, no internet presence, nothing other than the sign out front.” he responded, peering down at the outline of doors, windows and hallways. Imaging him browsing the internet was a weird visual, I wondered if he had seen porn of himself.
I knew that what he was saying was serious business, but I was having a hard time focusing. He had on a black sweater that was just the right amount of tight, an his green eyes were startlingly bright. He was flush with the thought of a chase. He was saying something about roughing someone up. Hot. I was wondering if I could convince him to rough me up a little. It had been a while.
“…they knocked the woman out, smashed the case and took the book, and set the building ablaze. She recovered in time to escape through a window and went to the authorities. My contact was there during the initial report and passed along the information. Why are you looking at me like that?”
I became vaguely aware that he was speaking to me, and snagged a granola bar to cover my tracks. “So we storm the place, kick butt, and then run away with the book in hand, right?” I asked, fumbling with the wrapper.
His smile was brilliant. “I am surprised, I did not think you were listening.”
“Are you kidding me? Look at me, I am all ears. The very picture of attention.”
Loki, god of mischief and lies, snorted. What a gentleman.
He took the snack from my hand, put it own onto the table, and backed me into the counter. “You’re distracted,” he murmured into my ear, “Would you like to fill me in on your thoughts?”
I absolutely did not. Honestly, the recon mission was the last thing on my to-do list, and he had just rocketed to the top. That sweater needed to come off. And then those pants. And then my pants. I’d probably keep the sweatshirt on, it was cold in my apartment. The books could wait a few hours, right? Did the apocalypse have a ticking timer, counting down? I didn’t think so, but what the heck do I know.
“How long do we have until we need to leave?” I asked, leaning back to look at his face. The crick in my neck was 100% worth it.
His eyes gleamed and darkened, and his smile got wide. “Not long enough, I’m afraid.” I guessed they don’t have quickies where he was from. He was right though, the sky outside the windows was dark and I could see the glow of the streetlights. He had shown up as the sun was setting, nudging his way past me to dig through my fridge before filling me in on his information and game plan.
Loki stepped back, putting space between us and allowing me to breathe again. He handed me the flashlight, and I tucked it into my sweatshirt pocket. Clipping on the fanny pack, I rolled the blueprints up too.
“What’s the chance of us getting shot?” I asked, halfway joking.
“If you stay close to me, highly unlikely” he replied, tucking the bars into my pack. His hands at my waist were warm and gentle as he zipped me up.
“Are you bulletproof?”
“Better, I’m a god.”
“Pardon me your highness.”
We left my apartment shortly after, locking the door behind us and silently making our way down to his car. We buckled in, and he navigated onto the freeway, headed towards the south end.
I had the feeling of impending doom following close behind us. Hopefully his royal highness was all he claimed to be, because I sure as shit wasn’t bulletproof.
It was..nice, cuddled up to Tom on the sofa, drinking beer and laughing at the idiots on the telly mistaking home renovation for building a film set. Tom got it. Which, I suppose, makes sense, as he’s no doubt very familiar with MDF set construction. In any case, I enjoyed the giggles and derisive snorts under my ear.
(It’s been a VERY long time since I’ve posted. Please, lovely mods, have mercy on me if I submit any of this incorrectly)
TITLE OF STORY: The Loki Equation
CHAPTER NUMBER: Part 22
AUTHOR: Spiesinthedark
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Loki
GENRE: Adventure/Romance
FIC SUMMARY: Odd things begin to happen to a fanfiction writer….
RATING: T
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: None
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The kiss to end all kisses. As in, you could literally die after it’s over because nothing will ever be that good again. A kiss that you wish you could package and sell because you’d be a billionaire in record time. It went on for eternity.
When Loki pulled away, I had no words. I know that sounds completely cliche, and I always thought the saying was bologna, at least until it happened to me. I swear I always have words, it’s one of the lovely things about me. I also felt like I had no bones left, and that was a new feeling as well. I probably would have slid to the floor like a damsel in distress if he hadn’t had a tight grip on my waist.
It was straight out of a movie scene: I was weak in the knees and confused, smooched to the edge of the Earth and brought back in a snap by the intense stare coming from the green eyes inches from my face. I was having a hard time focusing, because he was pressed up against me and was oddly warm. He wasn’t helping either, breathing heavily with his fingers curled into the waistband of my leggings.
“You’re going to rip my pants” I said, breathless.
“I’ll buy you new ones” was the reply, equally low on air.
Wow. I was lucky the clothing item in question didn’t catch fire. Probably because they were way too damp.
It was just flippant enough to give us both pause. The laughter started in me, bursting out with the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. I had tried to stab him, and then he tried to end my world with his mouth. He was caught up in it as well, he had let me go and was doubled over my counter. We both ended up on the floor of my kitchen, gasping, my eyes freely streaming tears and he, drying his own eyes on the sleeve of his sweater. I hadn’t laughed that hard in weeks, and the release felt way better than any orgasm I’d had recently.
He snagged a dishtowel off my stove and handed it to me. I dabbed at my face, getting myself under control. “I’m so sorry”, I said, “Didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”.
He stretched his legs out, smiling, still getting his laughter under control. “The mood was begging to be ruined, lovely. I am sorry as well, I was caught up.” His eyes met mine again, and his burned with a dark green fire. “I’ve missed you.”
I wasn’t about to admit that I missed him too, not that easily. Although if we’re being honest, it was probably apparent on my face. I don’t hide emotions well.
“I honestly thought I’d never see you again,” I said, “I assumed you’d found the other two books, or found some other sucker to drag around”.
His eyes hadn’t left my face, so I could see the fire in them dim slightly. “No, to all assumptions. The other two books are still out in the world, and I could never convince anyone else to come with me, even if I wanted another.” he said, reaching out a hand and wrapping his fingers around my ankle. “You want to ask where I was, don’t you?”
Caught. It must have been obvious.
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” I said, “I forget that you’re not human. I’ve decided that I can’t hold you to the same standards that I would expect from anyone else.”
His eyebrows came together slightly, and he said quietly “No, I’m not human. But you are, and it was cruel of me to leave so suddenly. How long did you wait?”
“Hours. Then days.” I wouldn’t admit to weeks, that would open up the wound that I had worked so hard to close. The grip on my ankle tightened. Was it even possible for gods to feel bad? I hoped so.
“I’m sorry, Rachael.” A pause, then “Will you still help me?”
He had thrown me, headfirst, into a treasure hunt that had brought me face to face with arson, dead bodies, a criminal underworld, and possibly magic. He had eaten my food, kept me safe, kept me not-so-safe, vanished on me and come back again. He had planted a kiss on me that shattered my reality in the best way possible.
“Of course.”
The God of Mischief and Lies and the Fanfiction Writer would save the world together.
