Marvel Character Oneshots

Death ~ loki x reader

{this story takes place in Asgard, instead of Thor: Ragnarok. your character is essentially Hela and has come to rule it. Loki assists her. note the change of perspective from second person to third person. WARNING: quite graphic.}

Loki's heart thumped against his armour as he dug another dagger deep into the chest of an Asgardian soldier. He grunted with effort as he tugged it back out and spun around to repeat the action. With his free hand, he shot spears of emerald magic through the throats of the soldiers attacking him. He felt no mercy, only desperation as he gave in to the magnetic pull attracting him towards the throne and the woman upon it. 

The ruby red rose between his teeth almost fell to the bloodied floor as he yelled in frustration; he was being pulled to the ground. In a quick, fluent, eloquent movement, Loki swung his arm backward and sliced the side of the soldier wide open, eliciting a screech as their arms retreated from his neck. 

A glance to the throne reminded the God of Mischief of his goal here: to get to her. She sat almost lazily atop the regal seat; the staff, Gungnir, held closely to her, resting on the grand golden ground. A surge of motivation and determination shattered any sort of cowardice or fear that had settled inside Loki. He slammed his dagger straight through the skull of an Asgardian soldier, fury at the resistance seething through his lava-filled veins.

Without another passing moment and while Loki had been too distracted for too long, a blade was dragged along his forearm and palm, slicing his flesh, hand and fingers. 

"Bastard!" He shouted, the rage bursting from his sapphire eyes. 

He used his immense magical force, of emerald power, to shunt the group of soldiers gathering around him into the columns of the throne room, killing them instantly. He threw a smug look at the throne, feeling a flutter in his heart at the small wave the woman perched there gave him.

A loud clash of metal-on-metal brought his attention back to the thousand soldiers running for him, unaffected by his output of magical energy that had reached but a few. He summoned another dagger and shot it out in front of him, watching as it wedged itself into the eye socket of the nearest fighter. 

Sensing a horde behind him, Loki twisted his hands above his head, murmured an incantation and heard, to his great satisfaction, vines of magic choking the group of men attempting an ambush from behind him. He let out a barking laugh, careful not to dislodge the rose in his mouth, ignoring the sting from the split flesh of his arm and hand. 

Rolling his eyes as another wave of soldiers raced towards him, Loki dropped his hands to his sides and transformed. Less than a mere second later, a magnificent black dragon stood in his place. A collective gasp from not only the soldiers but from the lady on the throne echoed around the room, appeasing Loki greatly. 

With a great huff, he blew a wall of white-hot fire at the army, outrageously careful to avoid the throne. The fighters dropped dead, burnt to cinders; their helmets clattered to the floor, the metal forced red from the heat.

A second-long morph later, Loki heaved in laboured breaths, now standing alone in the middle of the room. His arm was shaking. Blood dripped from the tip of his finger onto the golden tiles, not out of place on the battled, bloodied, burnt ground. It soaked his entire sleeve. Yet, the God failed to notice. He took confident, limping steps towards the throne, watching in fiery anticipation and great awe as the woman finally stood up, her grandiose, beautiful extravagant body maneuvering itself down the staircase. He slid off his horned helmet and let it fall, clanging against the floor.

Loki stopped as he got to the bottom. He plucked the perfectly preserved rose from his teeth and held it in front of him. He knelt onto one knee and let out a harsh breath. His adrenaline spiked as the woman reached the last step and reached out to touch his cheek. He closed his eyes at the contact, sighing at the wonderful warmth of her finger on his skin. He opened his eyes to heed her smiling face.

"My prince," she cooed, crouching down in front of him as he knelt; rose in his hand, blood on his sleeve. "You have fought valiantly for me. What do you desire in return?"

He swallowed and parted his bleeding lips, an eyebrow arcing. "You, my dear lady Y/N."

A breath burst softly from her lips, and she glanced at the rose in his hand. He offered it to her.

"A precious rose from the secret garden of Jotunheim, my lady," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Now being seen by your and my eyes only, as it binds those to a love so strong it could destroy the Tree of Yggdrasil, if not the entire universe. If it would so wish," he added, a soft, gentle, tender smile in his pleading features.

She closed her eyes after lifting the rose to her face. She inhaled deeply. Loki gazed at her, entranced by her very presence. He cared not for the lives he had taken; whose bodies now lay decaying behind him; nor for the remainder of his family stowed away underneath the palace, captured within the confines of the Asgardian dungeons. He cared only for her. For Y/N. And there he stood, his opportunity awaiting him, within grasp.

She opened her eyes. "I adore it."

His heart leaped. He got shakily to his feet. She followed, her eyes trailing about his body. She frowned at the deep wound along his arm. He reached out for her and she allowed him to place his injured hand on her neck and his other unharmed hand onto her waist. 

She grasped his injury with her hand and he gasped, his eyes finally catching sight of his severed arm. With a pained frown, she squeezed, closing her eyes at his agonised groan. Slowly, he felt his skin reattaching; as though threads were sewing it back together. He felt the blood leech back into his body and the pain faded along with the repair. He snatched her gaze, sweat dripping down his forehead. 

She tried to smile, removing her hand from his arm to replace it on his face, holding his jaw. He panted but recovered quickly and returned her smile. 

"Thank you," he murmured. He gently shifted himself closer to her and stepped up to the same platform of the staircase. 

"I accept your request, Loki," she said, wrapping her other arm around his neck. 

He grinned vivaciously. The swirls of emotion she saw in his eyes made her gasp. Lust, longing and true, deep desire. However, before she could ponder about it any further, he yanked her to him and covered her mouth with his in a hungry kiss. 

As their lips crashed together, he felt like he was walking on air. It was magic, the way her lips connected with his own. Her mouth was so warm, the caress of her lips softer than he could have ever imagined. He restricted the pleasured moan threatening to break from his throat. She tugged him flush against her and unbalanced him for a moment. 

He stepped back onto the level ground of the throne room and caught her on the small of her back, preventing her from any harm. Their lips remained locked, the key thrown down the depths of any Asgardian river. He devoured her completely; his fierce, uncontrollable passion consuming the quiet, silence of her being and replacing it with a longing as destructive as fire. She'd do anything for him now.

The rose dropped from her fingers and hit the ground. As its petals touched the golden tiles, it exploded; shreds of every part of the flower scattering and forming a protective encircling around the embracing couple. A moment passed where the only sound heard was their inhales and exhales. As though disturbed by a slight breeze, the confetti of petals fell around them and they broke apart, eyes whole and shining.

"Queen and King of Asgard," Y/N murmured, tracing the line of Loki's jaw.

He smiled; elated, grasping her waist tightly. "A match made in Valhalla."

*

{wow, i loved writing this! it makes me So HaPpY, you have no idea. okay bye :)}