My Result: Willing Hero(77%)

You are the Willing Hero. The Willing Hero is the adventurous sort who will immediately jump at the call to adventure. The Willing Hero is brave, bold, and swashbuckling. He views adventure and danger as great fun.

Additional Results: Willing Hero (77%) Tragic Hero (61%) Loveable Rogue (51%) Anti-Hero (50%) Unwilling Hero (22%) Conflicted Hero (14%)

@fiercefury asked:  “You’re not in bed. I came looking for you.”

soft starters

  THE NIGHT IS QUIET but not silent; it never is. Asgard never TRULY sleeps even in the dead of night.

   Thor stands on the balcony to his quarters, dressed only in a loose dark robe that’s cinched around the waist. Before them, the golden lights of the realm eternal stretch before them, brilliant dancing light flickering off the night-black water. It’s truly beautiful, but this evening his mind is not on the wonders of the realm.

   Her words don’t surprise him, but he does partly turn to look back to her —— and he smiles. It’s a quiet, gentle thing, features backlit with the golden lights of the city beyond. He inclines an arm outward in offering for her to join him. He looks pensive, but perhaps it should come as little surprise; much has changed of late, and with the realms at war and his brother imprisoned, his thoughts are often troubled.

               ❛ I could not sleep. My thoughts travel far this night. ❜

AWAKING ALONE DOESN’T SURPRISE HER. Her thunderer is concerned and the nights are full of thought. His mind must be swirling a million miles a second because this is the not the first time she’s awakened with the empty space next to her. Once she slips from the bed, Sif pulls on a robe of her own over his slim form. It whisks in the breeze of the open air coming in through their large open window and when she finds him and instantly its obvious that he’s lost in thought. 

THE MOMENT THEY COME TOGETHER is a worship of its own kind. it’s almost BLINDINGLY perfect — they come together in so many ways that are like they are MADE for one another. he groans, heavy and breathless and achingly heartfelt, fingers splaying on her hips as that warmth SURROUNDS him, tightens ‘round him, fills every sense with her.

she is one of the FEW who can manhandle him so — tangle fingers in his hair and grip and hang onto him so. hands slide over her thighs and over her hips and support and guide as she moves against him, WITH him; he’s buried deep and those rocking thrusts are slow for now, but that does not mean lacking in any intensity for this moment.

he breaks the kiss at last, and one hand slides up her back as his mouth finds her neck, her throat; he’s not so rough as to be painful, but his mouth on her — those kisses that occasionally find a bit of tooth and brush away sting with lighter, warmer kisses — doesn’t hold back.

he lets her set the pace, but he’s not passive, pushing deep with ever rock of her hips and feeling it in every part of his bones. ❛ you are perfect. you — you feel — ❜ his tongue sticks on the roof of his mouth and he groans, and oh, it’s tangled ‘round a soft exhalation of a throaty, gravelly laugh that is naught but pure desire and feeling and wondrous pleasure that has better way to expressed — an exquisite agony upon those golden features. he loves this — loves how he can be with her, how she can be with HIM.

Losing herself in him like this is really truly the ONLY way to unwind, to let herself lose from any stress that might have ailed her. In truth, this warrior is her eternal frustration and her calm in the storm at the same time. No one else would survive around her. All except him. A gasp escapes against his lips as hips lean further into him and a hand stays lost in his hair holding him close. 

There is no soul alive that could touch her in this way, make her react in such painstaking pleasure. Many have tried but none successful for she is his. Always has. Far as she is concerned... always will be. They move as one, both being exquisite in moments such as these. There is nothing about this they have not mastered together and oh how it shows. They are finesse but still wild for each other.

Her body erupts into slight shivers and goosebumps one his lips finds her neck. Teeth glide over her skin only to soothe with warm embrace of lips after. Sif is completely lost in the moment enough to shudder breath and cease any movement. only for a few seconds but when hips move again there is a more feverish need. Sif presses herself into his chest further letting him explore, touch, and kiss as much as he’d like because her body is his canvas. 

FATE, PURPOSE. they’re strange words, now. all his life, he’s felt BOUND to them: he’s felt as though his life’s plan was ever laid out before him and if he walked the path laid before him and was worthy he would find his way unerringly. life, though, has a funny way of turning that upside down and making it more complicated than he could ever dream.

perhaps this is his fate. or perhaps he has finally found himself free of the chains of prophecy that have laid across his shoulders for centuries. he doesn’t know. he’s not really sure he CARES.

the question may have come spontaneous, borne from a desire that he couldn’t even give a name to before now — but he knows that once he says them he means them utterly. he knows that he would not see them apart again — he can see a future that is not in golden halls and in crowns and kings but rather in this soul that has held his above water in his darkest times.

he’s not afraid. where he may once would have once found nerves and uncertainly lies only faith and knowing; for once of the first times in so many years, he knows utterly that this is the path he’s meant to walk.

so he’s unafraid. he’s unafraid as she meets his gaze, and with the ferocity of her statement comes a swift grin of his own, and when she kisses him — oh, he kisses her in return, a hand sliding against her cheek and drawing her to him and a quiet laugh is pulled from him, full of everything that is LIGHT in this world.

❛ i would fight them if they dared try to break us apart again, and who would dare face the wrath of the mighty thor? ❜ where once that would have been uttered in complete SINCERITY, there’s a bite of self-aware humor in it, given round a grin that’s as much full of heart and gladness as it is truth. but then he swiftly sobers, pressing his forehead to hers and holding her cheek with a calloused palm. ❛ i love you. ❜ it comes with an utter, profound, painful sincerity. ❛ i was not the same without you. ❜

something of emotion creeps up onto the surface, its a raw betraying thing that she has to push away by averting her gaze towards the sky. how silly she feels knowing that she’s never one to dwell on settling down. she’s never needed a male to make her feel complete nor ever pretended to. oh but she does love. sif loves with her whole heart and its only ever belonged to one soul. HIS. 

a dream come true it is not, but a start to a life that they can dedicate to each other for here til eternity. not but a string of words before now becomes a promise, something so deeply devout that her heart reaches out to clasp to his more than ever before.

sif has always been loyal to him. always fought beside him and for him as her prince. always been devout in the bedroom behind closed doors when they could steal themselves away for a few moments. she does not pretend to know what it means to be a wife or tied together as one but for the first time ever in her existence does she want it to be so.

her heart leaps and bounds around in her chest, but its more from excitement much more than fear. there has never been any doubt in her love for him. no matter the time span or obstacle or enemy that stood in their way they’ve always overcome whatever lay in their path. 

the kiss is light and loving and his laugh causes her to smile against his lips in a pure joy she had known that she was still capable of. as if her missing piece had been him all along, though she had not needed it to be able to see what the picture would be. “oh please....” she scoffs with an eyeroll just as she had on what was supposed to be a glorious day all those years ago when the frost giants invaded. in her eyes its what started it all in a way. his journey. THEIR journey. 

Loki: Get in line.

@fiercefury <3′d ;;

        pale fingers dab at a CRIMSON stained         cheek – but she’s GRINNING so widely,         it’s a wonder torunn’s features don’t ACHE.         the young god presents them to her mother,          sweat still beading on her brow and          plastering GOLDEN locks to her forehead. 

               “ it was a WONDROUS tournament, mother.                       i WISH you had seen – i took aron’s                   longsword to the face just at the end –                   i don’t think it’s so bad though.

         and came close third ! “  

the beaming pride over her daughter’s features makes her own brighten with a full appreciation that she never thought possible. the lady sif isn’t sure what  she would have wanted for her daughter, certainly not following in her warrior footsteps but even still she is PROUD. 

A FAR CRY, perhaps, but they are a far cry away from their once-selves. war has battered the both of them; war and strife and things that had fallen far out of their own hands. and yet? this is as close as they can make it. he is KING now: king of a small coastal village that is a scarce reflection of the grand golden halls of the realm eternal.

somehow, though, this feels so much more HONEST.

her fingers comb through his hair, and he lets the lulling peace of the moment slide through his very bones. out here, he is no KING. responsibilities fall away, soak into the earth and become distant. this is how he felt long ago, except then both their responsibilities were lesser.

his eyes are closed, though he’s nowhere close to asleep. he just smiles at her words, only cracking his eyes open to meet hers. there’s so much warmth in them, now. oh, that wild and reckless soul is still there —— he’ll be dead before that fades —— but he’s far more grounded now than he ever was.

❛ i noticed you from the first days, when you were fighting for a place. when you mopped the floor with volstagg and demanded a more challenging bout. when you saved me from taking a broadsword to the back on those earliest days. ❜ he chuckles, though, and he catches her hand and presses a kiss to the back of her knuckles. ❛ that you did. ❜

he goes quiet, and above them the stars reach across the sky in brilliant clarity, the northern borealis dancing over the scandinavian sea. he’s silent, and there’s a weight on his chest and soul and suddenly he knows, oh he knows. the words come before his mind has fully caught up, and he speaks them first to the streaks of light overhead. ❛ ——  marry me. ❜ it’s soft, quiet, almost impulsive but not quite, and there’s nothing traditional about it but since when are they ever traditional? he sits up, sudden and her hand still in his, and he remembers there’s supposed to be a question in there.

❛  —— will you? sif, ❜  and that expression is so painfully open,  ❛ i would not want to be without you again. ❜

if she never used to believe in fate or life’s purpose before then she certainly does now. after everything... the battles. loki. vanishing from this world. thanos. the pair have found their way back together and here he is laying across her lap in this new place they call home. what an adjustment its been but she wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. 

her heart is finally full again and wasting it isn’t an option. never a second thought for she will make the most of what time they were given. a SECOND CHANCE to make things right to live how they were truly meant to.

these stolen moments are theirs alone when no one else exist but them. alone is always more honest for them. the adoration beams when he opens those mismatched eyes to glimpse up at her. there is no doubt that hers showcase the same.  

“a time or two was spent when i wiped the floor with you as well,” she matches his chuckle and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. his hand grips hers and his kisses it leaving her breath caught in her throat for a few long moments. 

he’s quiet. quieter than usual and she watches his gaze fall back to the sky, it’s always been fascinating to witness the wheels turning in his brain. the expression of extreme thought was never lost on her like it might have been for others. what he says catches her off guard... causes her heart to skip a few beats threatening to stop altogether. but then it swells when she searches his eyes and knows that he MEANS IT. 

a smile lifts over her lips as she hears the sweet softness of her daughter’s voice. ‘just an old book. nothing you’d particularly be interested in.” she adjusts her robe and moves further to the side of the bed where her husband would usually sleep. off saving the realms again no doubt. 

KINGS. he barely knows what that means anymore: to be KING, to be a leader. to be royalty. he has slipped so far from those days, and he feels he is only scarcely hanging on to any thread of who he used to be.

( he’s not who he used to be. this, he hasn’t quite come to terms with yet. he will, in time. )

for now, though, all of that is far, far away, and he holds on to her — oh he holds on to her — like she is his most desperate lifeline. she was gone for what feels like eternity, and his sense of resolve is crumbling, crumbling, falling.

asgard is not a place, no. for him, he has found: asgard has been her.

she leans into his touch, and relief he didn’t even know he was hoping for floods into his very bones. and, her words make him laugh, though it’s more an exhalation of something that’s almost wild with relief and wondering how he could be so fortunate all at once. ❛ and thank the gods it is not. ❜ he sounds so desperately vehement.

before he can say anything else, though, her lips are on his and despite the fact they have been been apart for seven long years it all comes flooding back like it was yesterday. to them, seven years is NOTHING. a blink. a hiccup in time in their great eternal lives. and yet, it felt like the longest years he had EVER lived.

❛ i have missed you more than you know. ❜ he kisses her back, levering a foot under him to rise once more, smooth, cloak stirring ‘round them. when it breaks, those odd-eyes match hers, and he leans in and presses his forehead to hers. ❛ i never want to lose you again. ❜ there’s a promise brewing in those words, desperate and unformed and a quiet oath that he’s not even quite sure he knows what means yet, but oh does he mean it. 

there is so much to catch up on, so many questions and words that she longs to spill from her tongue but her emotions are far too caught up in the moment to voice any of them. all she longs for is to wrap herself around him, curl into him just as she used to on those cool nights where the breeze found its way through large open windows.  

she finds she not only misses him... she misses it all. this life, the world.... ASGARD. the longer the lady is here the more she is merging herself with the reality that she was gone, possibly for YEARS. the dust has settled, the battle is over and now she’s going to have to cope with the aftermath. sif is NOT the warrior goddess that he once knew but the thunderer is also not the same. 

a time and place will be suffice enough later to ask where he’d been all this time, it’d be easy to be bitter considering that the betrayal still felt fresh. but his face, the way he prays to her as if she were his own god, and the longing in his voice makes all the worry wash away. the circumstances must have been dire for him not to come for her. THE ONLY EXPLANATION. for she knows that he would if he could have.

his lips on hers make the pain vanish, and it brings a feeling of warmth and comfort back to her. when she stands, sif is reminded of how magnificently tall he is and it causes a breath to catch in her throat. her hand comes hesitantly to press against armored chest, as if he still might disappear. please... please not now.  the words he speaks comes from a place in his heart that makes her laugh, but its messy and choked with so much emotion.