𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓐 '𝓜𝓲𝓭𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓪𝓷'
↳ (13 avengers x reader)
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。・:*˚:✧。 You crash land on Asgard, not knowing who you are or where you're from, and especially not knowing what a 'soulmate' is. May the Allfather guide you on your journey ac...
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y/n = your name
italics = thoughts
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The garden was beautiful. Teeming with plants and different varieties of flowers. Structures spiraled upwards in the sky around. You could see the many bridges making up the castle, and the trees seemed to sway and dance with the warm breeze.
You refused to sit and instead stood by a short wall circling a tree with a couple of shrubs and flowers planted in between the roots. Your dress blew in the breeze and the leaves glistened in the sunlight. It would've been calm if you had not been on a foreign planet with no recollection of anything before you had arrived there.
Regardless, everything seemed to enchant you in some sort of way. After all, you had never seen such a beautiful place before since you don't remember having seen any place. Just an image of the blue planet called 'Earth' or 'Midgard' as the prince had said. Thinking back on it, he had also noticed your arm but decided not to say anything about it which confused you.
You needed to ask someone why the little drawings up your arm might have been there. You wanted to remember something, but you couldn't.
You heard footsteps in the garden, instead of revealing yourself, you hid. You moved to where the tree blocked you from view, watching the figure cautiously. If they had sent someone after you, you would know before the assassin could even find you.
A tall figure shadowed over you from behind. "And who might you be?" the Asgardian, you assumed, hissed. A crackle of something was right in front of your face.
You turned around, not flinching or jumping whatsoever. A tall, black-haired man stood there, wearing clothing much like the prince had. Instead, it was green and gold rather than silver and red. He looked down with a teasing grin. He had used magic to teleport. That was his trick, so he should not be taken lightly. If he was an assassin it would take some effort to take him down.
"I was minding my own business, care to give me the pleasure of doing the same?" you retorted harshly back in his face, stepping away from him.
The man stared at you for a while. "I think you are my business, judging you are in the castle and I live here," he answered.
"So you are a prince? Your clothes screamed assassin but I guess they also already told me that too."