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loving-all-for-loki · 3 years

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Can you write one where the Rogers is assigning a new recruit to each avenger for training? Loki gets the new girl and he’s irritated thinking she’s just some normal human that hasn’t a clue how to fight properly because of her petite size. When it comes time for them to spar, she gives him hell. She fights with swords and is very skilled in the art. He says something to piss her off and she ends up blasting him away with powers she never told anyone about. Loki realizes what she is since he knows the magic she used. She’s part light elf but being half human she was abandoned and left to die just like Loki was. They end up bonding and work together on the team.

A/N: I hope you like it! I didn't focus a whole ton of them working together, but I feel like you get the point. It's a bit longer than my other one shots.

The Moon And Her Darkness

Summary: Y/N, the newest avenger, starts her first day of training. An unimpressed Loki’s doubts are proved to be wrong when she reveals herself to be stronger than he knew.

Word count: 2744

Warnings: angst, dick Loki

Forever Tags: @mm2305

Your blood pumps fast through your body as you stare at the raven haired god. Ever since you joined the team, he’s been giving you dirty looks and eye rolls. You tried to not pay attention to it since you know of his past (and have been warned by Tony), but as the newest Avenger trying to prove herself, you find yourself longing for his approval.

It has been a week since Nicky Fury showed up at your home, extracting you from it, and throwing you into the lion's den you called the Avengers. You never signed up for it, but given that you were on the government’s radar for a long time, you’re not surprised. A couple mishaps here and there made them take you on their own terms. They’ve decided that having super powers is not something to be normalized and that you couldn’t live like a normal civilian.

Although you want to be home, the Avengers have already shown to be a great family. Nat and Wanda have already taken you shopping while Steve gave you a tour of the tower. As far as the others, they have been out of sight. Bucky avoids everyone, Sam with him because they’re glued to the hip, and Tony is somewhere else working on new technology with Bruce. Clint? Thor? Who even knows. You’ve been thankful for the attention they have given you.

Except for Loki.

You remember the attack in New York and you won’t lie when saying that approaching the god is intimidating. He stands with great pride and power, it’s hard not to feel small, but when he stares at you the way he does, it’s harder. He doesn’t stop looking at you as if you were a rat he found in a sandwich. Disposable. Replaceable. Disgusting. You don’t expect much from the God being that he’s only staying here out of punishment for the attacks, but you had hoped for a little something more. Even a prank or two.

When Steve told you that you were going to start training, you expected hand to hand combat like the rest, not whatever involves Loki being in the gym at the same time as the two of you. He hasn’t said a word, but just stared at you as Steve goes over some basic disabling techniques and defense. Most of it is already burned in your brain from your childhood, being a warrior and all, but you still manage to learn some new things.

But learning as to why Loki is there, that still remains unclear. Everytime you throw a punch or try to block one of Steve’s, Loki scoffs at you and rolls his eyes. He looks completely relaxed on a bench in the room, yet he could not be looking at you with a more tense gaze. He looks worried, as if you’re going to get beaten to a pulp.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” You yell at him.

Panting, you block Steve’s last hit and turn to the younger Odinson.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, don’t sorry me. Cut the crap, Loki. What’s up?”

“I believe the sky is.”

You grab a knife off the wall and aim it in his direction, startling him slightly but not even shocking Steve.

“You stare at me with daggers in your eyes and judge my every move. You have yet to even talk to me since I joined the team. What do you have against me, you ass?”

“Y/N-”

“Shut it, Steve!” You yell, quickly aiming the dagger at him before returning to Loki, “You. Talk.”

“It’s just pathetic, that’s all.”

“Pathetic? You’re calling me pathetic?”

You start to charge at Loki, but Steve quickly wraps his arm around your waist, holding you back from gutting the god.

“Y/N, I wanted you to spar with him after me,” he cuts in.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because he's a skilled fighter who matches your level.”

“Oh, so I spar with the tricker who decides I’m too pathetic to fight. He’s going to teleport or some shit and stab me like he does with Thor.” Loki’s eyebrows raise at the mention of Thor getting stabbed. “Yes, I’ve heard the stories. I’m not that naive, Steve.”

“I won’t leave you alone with him. I’ll be here to watch and guide.”

“What do you know about fighting with me? I have magic beyond belief” Loki asks the both of you.

“I know more than you think,” I spit, turning back to Steve, “Can we do something else?”

“Well, you coud-”

“I am not sparing with Loki.”

“Okay, then how about weapons? Whatever one you want to start with?”

Loki scoffs again at the mention of you fighting any other way than hand to hand combat. He’s lucky you’re on the same team as him or else you would have decapitated him by now just because of annoyance. How can a man so attractive be so obnoxious?

You walk over to the wall of weapons were Steve and quietly discuss which ones you’ll practice with. He recommends knives so you can spar with Natasha when he’s gone, but the swords are more up your alley. They remind you of your childhood, the weapon of your people. Some days, you miss them, but you know they are fighting their own battle that is too dangerous for you.

Picking up the swords, Steve warns you he is not good which makes Loki laugh again. He has the right to this time because how do you practice with a man who doesn’t know what he’s doing. You can’t last ten minutes with Cap before you’re tired of his flailing. He’s really not good.

“Loki, you wouldn’t happen to know how to use swords would you?”

“I have some experience. Asgard knights and Valkyrie used them, we were forced to learn.”

He stands and takes Steve’s sword from him. Turning to you, he smirks, taking you in. Your frame looks so small compared to his, nothing but a mortal. He’s never admit it, but he finds you slightly adorable, in a helpless baby sort of way. You take proper stance and stare at Loki dead in the eye, determined to prove him wrong.

The two of you run at each other, swinging at any unblocked area you can, yet never hitting. He blocks your swing, pushing you back but not down. Looking up at him, you scream and run, thrusting your sword towards his neck and legs. He blocks you again, but not without stumbling. Before he’s able to get up, you land a blow right to his chest, knocking the air out of him. He hooks his foot around your leg and flips the two of you over so he hovers above you, sword to throat.

“I’ll admit it, you are good, but not great,” he laughs.

He stands up and walks off, setting the swords back on their holder on the wall. You gradually stand up, fury in your bones for the way he speaks to you.

“You… are irritable!” You yell.

Right before Loki gets to the door, he turns to face you. Steve rushes to your side.

“Y/N, stop. He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, he’s not worth it, alright,” you mutter to Steve, “He’s not worth the pride. The praise. Whatever the ‘glorious purpose’ he thinks he has. He’s just an insecure little boy who needs to prove himself over others, make them feel small so he feels superior. Just a bully.”

“I’d watch your tongue,” Loki warns.

“Or else what? You’ll challenge me to a words competition? See who has the best insults or can sound like the biggest douche because I think we all know who would win! Another check mark for your book of things you’re better at than ‘midgardians’ or ‘mortals’ or whatever degrading nickname you think of next.”

Loki’s chest heaves in anger. You’ve never seen someone so angry or heard anyone yelling at you with concern like Steve. Nothing he says registers in your head as Loki’s daring looks fill your mind. You’d almost be scared if you didn’t know he’s full of empty threats. Just a scared little god boy.

“You imbecile, think you can scare me?”

“Actually, I think anything can.”

“I can take words from someone who does not know me, but to be called a coward is not something I take lightly.”

“So what are you going to do about it? Huh?”

“Nothing, I don’t waste my time on people like you.”

“Oh, people like me? Because the great Frost Giant Asgardian is sooo superior.”

“Don’t you ever say that.”

Loki rushes to your side, grabbing you by the throat and lifting you up against the wall.

“Loki, stop it!” Steve yells.

“This is not about you, Rodgers. I suggest you leave before getting in the crossfire.”

“I can’t do that. The safety of this team-”

“Is your priority. I know you are honorable, but I highly suggest you leave.”

Steve hesitates at the sound of you gasping for air. You cling onto Loki’s hand, tightly wound around your throat. His veins pop out of his hand like a dehydrated man. Steve looks back at you, eyes now closed to focus on your breathing.

“Put her down first,” Steve orders.

“Fine, always have to be the hero.”

Loki sets you down and your body goes numb. Everything hurts, your throat swelling. You gasp for all the air you can, feeling it go down your throat and enter your lungs. It’s fresh, comforting, healing. Leaning your head back against the wall, you barely open your eyes to see Steve by your side.

“Are you okay?”

Not energized enough to speak yet, you nod your head and place your hand on his shoulder. Steve looks over at you with worry before turning back to Loki.

“Leave, now.”

“Gladly.”

Loki turns to walk away, but doesn’t. He stands there to listen to you and Steve. At this point, neither of you care. You’re too focused on not dying.

“Can you breathe?” Steve asks.

You nod your head.

“I can get you help. We have a hospital room.”

“No,” you choke, “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”

Steve nods, but doesn’t listen. He gets up and leaves the room, rushing down the hallways to get a nurse, leaving you alone with Loki.

“Why haven’t you left?”

“No reason.”

“Please, just go. I’m tired of fighting. You’ve done enough.”

Loki turns to look at you. You look weak, but actually weak this time. The purple tint to your skin is fading as your lungs self regenerate as you keep breathing. Gripping onto the wall behind you, you stand up. Your knees are weak, making you wobble as you do. You’re not lying. You’re tired of Loki. You’ve barely spoken to the man and he’s made two attempts on your life in ten minutes. Sure, you teased him, but doesn’t he deserve it for being an ass.

“Weak.” He mutters.

That was the last straw. You look up at him. He stares at you as if the devil himself has entered you and your eyes glow bright red, but you know what is wrong. Holding out your hand towards Loki. A glow erupts from behind you, bright yet dark. It’s dark blue like the night sky and Loki watches it in awe. In seconds, Loki’s body is flung through the training room doors, blasting him into the wall of the hallways. He feels his rib breaking, his head hitting the wall. He yells out in pain as you slowly approach him, the anger seeping through.

“Never call me weak.”

Loki flips his head up to look at you, shock running through his body. At the sound of his body collapsing, the other Avengers come running forward. They look upon the sight of you towering over the trickster god with a look they’ve never seen before. Ethereal. Godly. You look as if you’re a queen staring at her peasant handmaid. Anger. Controlling. Power.

“What the-” Bucky mutters.

“You,” Loki gasps.

He struggles to stand as the team tries to help but he refuses. You two locked eyes but nothing was said. “You’re an elf.”

Everyone looks back at you with confused faces, but you don’t say anything. Your body goes hot at the mention of the word ‘elf’. The fire inside you fades out as anxiety places it, waiting for Loki to continue.

“I knew if someone was here to figure it out it’d be you,” you whisper.

“Light elf yes?”

“Yes, moon elf to be exact.”

“How are you here? Aren’t the-”

“Yes, they’re away. I was left to die. Our town got ransacked, everyone fled. No one stopped for me.”

“Then how are you here?”

“The Air elves. They got word of what happened and came. Found me. Took me back, but-”

“You weren’t suited. They found out.”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence between you and the god. His eyes shine with sadness, tears coming to the corners. He looks at you with great pity as the wall inside you breaks.

“Can someone explain what’s happening?” Steve asks.

“Can you tell?” You ask Loki.

He nods, “Yes. Y/N is a moon elf, a tribe of light elves. They’re as high up as Asgard in the nine realms, powerful warriors. They’ve been at the center of every creature out there. People have been after them for their weapons, gems, and wealth. A landmark for every thief and warrior in the universe.”

“My town was destroyed when I was a little girl. Nobody wanted me because I was a child. I was a burden to them.”

“She was left for dead to be found by the Air Elves. Another tribe. Not as powerful. But they didn’t want her and there’s only one reason why they wouldn’t want a moon elf. She’s a half-breed.”

“Moon elves are the only ones who tolerate them. Half human, half elf. Considering many of them come from moon elves, they’re not despised, but Air Elves.”

“They dropped you off on Midgard to be picked up by someone else. I assume you hid your powers?” “I had to. I acted out once when I was little and my parents freaked out. They sent me away. I lived in a orphanage before some group took me, trained me, helped me hone in my powers. They saved me.”

“Until you got to old and left.”

“Didn’t know where to go. I became a waitress at some back alley bar, lived above it in an apartment with my manager. Lived paycheck to paycheck.”

“Then?”

“Nicky Fury came to me. I was on SHIELD’s radar and they wanted me on the Avengers.”

The room goes silent. Throughout your talking you missed the way Loki got considerably closer to you. You practically stand right under his nose. Loki raises his hands and places them on your shoulders, getting your attention. You two look each other in the eye for a long moment.

“I am… so sorry.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes as Loki pulls you into his chest, holding you by your waist. The team watches in awe as the closed off god embraces you. Slowly, everyone leaves you two in the hallway. An hour goes by as you cry in Loki’s eyes.

Eventually, Loki picks you up bridal style and brings you to your bedroom. He helps you get dressed for the night and settled in bed before you grab his hand, making him turn back to face you. His eyes are no longer riddled with anger or hatred, but kindness and pity. He looks at you like you’re a little lamb to be protected.

“Yes, darling?”

“Stay with me?”

He nods before undressing and getting in bed with you. He pulls you close, your head leaning on his chest, and places an arm around your waist.

Every night goes on like this. No matter what happened in the day, even if you two got into an argument, Loki always found his way back by your side in your bed. You would have never expect it from how he treated you at first, but after the last few months since you met him, you find yourself growing closer to the god.

Loki slips into your bed for what feels like the 1482nd time. Resting your head on his chest, Loki pulls you close to his body.

“Goodnight, darling.”

#loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x reader one shot #loki one shot #loki laufeyson #loki layfeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson x reader #lovingallforloki #themoonandherdarkness

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odisn · 2 years

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okay . here's what I'm gonna do .

I'm going to look into the influences Thor has on both Turkish and Scandinavian mythology , especially at the point they both intersect . there are plenty of theories online regarding norse mythology’s Turkic influence , which I found really interesting . so i'll build this into my portrayal through the headcanons I write , as a nod to Cengiz's heritage and the comments I have received . i'll also learn more about Kuara and build out the notion of the legend of one inspiring the other . I want to emphasise here that I’m neither writing Thor as a god , nor am I going to write Kuara . Thor is referred to , and arrogantly refers to himself as the God of Thunder , but at his core he’s basically an immensely powerful alien who happens to control storms lol . his existence has been written into legends on Earth , and he is worshipped by some humans . given the fact that I do take from both marvel and myth , I want to make clear that the asgardians are an incredibly powerful race , instead of gods as we know gods . and that is something I also want to emphasise more in my portrayal , if it isn’t clear already .

there’s an anon in my inbox currently who raises a really valid point about poc fancasting acting as an ‘ exotic ’ element to an otherwise white - coded character . I very much don’t want to be someone who does this , and though I believe i’ve always done my utmost to make sure that I don’t particularly lead my interactions or discussions in a way that implies ‘ whiteness ’ of a character I have fancasted as a moc , I will be combing my blog to make sure that it’s definitely not the case . if at any point I have coded my Thor to seem white , or any of my graphics look whitewashed , or i’ve compromised on writing and characterisation to focus on looks , please let me know .

I'm also very much aware of how inconsequential these changes are in terms of platform and their impact on real - world situations . so I will be doing more outside of Tumblr to understand Turkish history , culture , and the struggles Turkish people face , especially when challenged about their religion . Cengiz and the show I initially found him on ( Diriliş: Ertuğrul ) has already influenced so much of this in me , to the point where I do enjoy learning about this history , and i'm learning Turkish , and I'm always open to more of this development outside of Tumblr .

other things to note :

I am not changing my faceclaim . I'm sorry if you find it insulting , seeing a Muslim play someone who isn’t , but I respectfully disagree with that opinion , from my own lens as a Muslim woc . from a Turkish pov , I know many people will send me messages saying I prioritised non - Asian voices over others , but if you look at my blog , there are several Turkish voices advocating for my current portrayal . and there are a few others still in my inbox , which I read but didn't delete , or publish . the division of these opinions does mean that I won't be able to please everyone , unfortunately . but hopefully paying homage to Turkish culture in my worldbuilding should play a small role here , and i’ll focus more of my time to real - world situations where this kind of prejudice really does have an impact . I also want to say here that Thor as a “ white god ” is a notion perpetuated by white supremacists translating norse mythology in a way only they can (: and I don’t believe that Thor is , nor has to be , a “ white god ” , by any stretch of the imagination .

I also want to be really transparent here and say that I have no intentions of making drastic changes that require heavy amounts of research and time investment , because bluntly , I don't plan on being here for the long run . this is why the links in my pinned post don't work ( lol ) , that’s why I haven't updated my mains / exclusives , and that’s why I legit don't care about how much " high quality writing " I get done on my blog . and because real life is bouncing back to its regular , busy self , I don't want to invest time in something that won't have any tangible benefits in the long term .

I absolutely won't hold it against anyone if they feel like this is a substandard course of action , and they wish to unfollow / block etc. as always , more than happy to have an ongoing conversation here , and IMs are open to everyone --- especially if you want to discuss ways I can incorporate this understanding and development in #reallife .

thanks , everyone !

#ooc.#long post.#WHEW. I really hope this makes sense !!!!!#back to work #hope this clarifies a few things and once again #thanks to everyone who reached out

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

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Break.

Request by @lucywrites02 (If you find some time could you write a fic about reader being really stressed about their exams and Loki saying something mean and then they break down and Loki has no idea what's happening but then tries to help the reader? It can be a headcanon or a one shot)

N/A: It do be like that sometimes. Unfortunately I think we can all relate to this state of mind. Hope this helps alliviate the tension a bit. Remember to take care of yourself; health is more important than grades.

Warnings: anxious thoughts, mentions of suicide attempt (the Bifrost thing from Loki), angst. Happy ending.

Word count: 2.3 K

(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @jesuswasnotawhiteman)

You organized your folders once again, hoping the cleaner desk would give you some motivation to keep going. It didn’t, but you stayed. Your stomach growled and it hinted you to look at the clock. Oh, no. Five in the morning? But you barely started. You still had so many things to do before dawn.

You got up and stretched your legs and back. Your eyelids, heavier than ever, were not helping at all. Your mind was still everywhere, and you had to keep your head distracted to not think in the thousand things you still couldn’t get done. The mere thought of that made you shiver, almost throwing you into a spiral of anxious thoughts. You shook your head off and walked to the bathroom. Splashing some cold water in your face, you stood in front of the mirror. Eyebags that made you more similar to a racoon gave you the idea of making some more coffee. At that time you'd already forgotten you were going to get some food; your head was so full it couldn't even retain basic information.

As silently as you could, you walked down to the kitchen of the compound. You brought your books with yourself. Couldn’t waste some other five or ten minutes, couldn’t you? Filling the kettle and putting it on the fire, you got distracted watching the shapes of the fire.

“Zoned out?”, inquired Loki behind you. You jumped, frightened.

“What are you doing up so early?”, you asked.

“What are you doing up so late?”. You pointed at the books and he nodded. “You’re still with those things”.

“Want some coffee?”.

“No, thanks. I think I’m gonna try to sleep on the couch”.

He moved to the living room area and opened a book, laying down on the nearest couch. It all looked so cozy, so comfortable. You redirected your gaze to your cup of coffee and academic books, waiting for you to fry your head a little (a lot) more. Oh, how much you would’ve loved to take a break, sit in there with a fiction book and a warm mug of hot cocoa, wrapped up in… no. Don’t do this. Don’t torture yourself like that.

You probably shouldn’t have been drinking coffee. Your heart was already going abnormally fast, product and cause of the anxiety you were accumulating. But you did, trying to get your eyes opened. The table you settled in was confronting the living room area, and Loki observed you read and write incessantly in those big piles of books and papers.

You didn’t hear his footsteps. Out of nowhere he appeared behind you, reading the pages that were troubling you so much. You jumped once again. He was distracting you, you were tired and stressed, and, as if it weren’t enough, your heart was going to explode with all those frightens he was giving you.

“Are you going on the next…?”.

“Loki, I can’t give you attention right now”, you cut him off as kindly as you could. Your voice was slightly broken, so you swallowed and hid it. You two weren’t close enough to actually explain to him you were about to drown if you kept getting distracted from the assignments.

“I don’t need your attention”, he scoffed, slightly offended. “Not a puppy you have to play with”.

“Alright. Can you leave?”.

He sighed and went back to the couch. After about half an hour, your head fell to the pages and gave your brain the pause it so hardly needed. About an hour later, everyone on the compound was up and having breakfast around you, waking you up with the noises.

“Y/n, what are you doing sleeping in here?”, asked Thor. “What are all those things you have in there?”.

“Those things, brother, are books. They are for reading and gaining knowledge, I’m certain you haven’t heard of them before”, mocked Loki, gaining a chuckle from you. “It’s not like you seem to be gaining much either, though”, told you, referring to your nap.

“I was exhausted, but I’m...”.

“Mortals are such weakies”, he said, getting up and serving himself a cup of tea. “They read three pages and already get tired of using their little brains”.

You knew he was kidding, for he had told you many times before he considered you one of the brightest youngsters he had ever encountered. But you couldn’t look at the big picture right now. Your head was still overwhelmingly loud with fears, tiredness, stress. The only sight of that pile of books made you shiver, realizing how little time you had to study. And Loki was right. You felt yourself so stupid, so weak. No matter how hard you worked and overworked yourself, you couldn’t get the damn things done right.

A knot in your throat gave you the hint to leave. The last thing you needed was to cry in front of them. You went back to your room, not without another cup of coffee before. So, you grabbed your things as fast as you could and ran to the kitchen. You hadn’t noticed Loki had followed you, thinking it was alright to mock; play around. You weren’t exactly friends, but enjoyed each other’s teasing every once in a while. He thought it’d cheer you up, or make you laugh.

“Hey”, he said behind you, and you jumped once again, dropping your mug to the floor. It got smashed to pieces. “Oh, what a clumsy little human”. You chuckled at his comment, containing a sob. He read it as if it was alright to keep teasing you, so he did. “I’d say you’re dumb because of not sleeping, but you generally just are like this”.

You didn’t answer, but your heart ached. You weren’t in the mood for his tough-love, so you rolled your eyes, sighed, and tried to pick up the pieces of broken ceramic. He didn't look satisfied with your silence. You'd usually insult him back, and laugh together.

“Your hair’s gross. Have you showered at all?” he said once again, touching the tip of one strand of your hair. You haven’t, you didn’t have time. You didn’t answer, and instead blushed. “Careful, don’t touch that sink, you might get a reaction”.

“What?”.

“Since you’re allergic to water”.

“Out of all the mean things you can say you go for my poor hygiene?”.

“Would you like me to stop insulting your appearance and instead go for anything else? I have a long list”.

“Just… leave me alone”.

“Oh, come on. You’re not gonna keep trying to understand what you so clearly can’t?”, he said while you were leaving with all your stuff, and you stood in place, facing the door. You were so, so glad you were backwards, because then he would’ve seen you tear up.

He was joking, he was just playing around. But going for that just in your worst moments? That was plain mean. You shook your head, he didn’t know, you’ve never said a thing about your stress, and he didn’t see how overworked and overwhelmed you were. He didn't know that was one of your biggest insecurities.

“I’d say you give up already. There are certain things dummies like you simply can’t achieve”, he continued. He had no idea, so he just kept going, hoping to get a reaction. A laugh, a chuckle or a “fuck you”. Even a punch. Any of the reactions he would usually get from you. But he didn’t expect what followed, at all.

You sobbed. One sob, just sharp and loud enough for him to have heard it. He stopped dead on his tracks. You didn’t turn around, but you didn’t move either. He saw how you tilted your head, facing the floor, and dropped a tear. He immediately walked to you and grabbed both of your hands, facing you.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of those things, dear”, he softened his voice. “I was just joking around”.

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, it’s just that I’m very stressed”, was what you tried to say. Instead, your sobs turned into a full blown cry. Your face went red from embarrassment, and anger, and stress, and tiredness, and it all just became too much for you to bear alone. Loki sensed it and hugged you tightly, pressing your head against his chest and hushing you tenderly.

“What happened? Is someone ill?”, he whispered, and you felt even more stupid, because you were crying over grades and papers. Not real things, like you used to think to diminish your stress and pack up all your feelings in a tiny bottle. But the tiny bottle became too tiny for your big feelings, and it finally exploded. You still couldn’t talk. Tears running down your face, you were hugging Loki back, hiding your face on him.

“Nobody’s ill, don’t worry”, you managed to say after a while. He nodded.

“I worry about you. Come, let me get you comfortable”, he said in your ear, and lifted you up carefully. You chuckled in between sobs. An emotional roller coaster. He carried you to his bedroom (and ignored the weird looks and stares from everyone else, because, let’s be honest; that was an unusual sight), and made you sit in his bed, wrapping you up in a weighted blanket (oh, you loved those).

He left for less than a minute and came back with a steaming cup of tea, some chocolate, and a few CDs. He sat in the bed by your side and gave you the cup. You wiped some tears away, and with trembling hands left the tea carefully over the bedside table and went for another hug. He wrapped himself around you, as a second blanket, and caressed your hair and neck with his cold fingers until your sobs stopped and you finally calmed down.

After a while, he cupped your face and looked at you very closely. Too close, even. Gave you a comforting look, with a warmth on his eyes you have never seen on anyone before.

“Better?”, he whispered.

“A bit, yeah”.

“Want to talk it out? Movie marathon? Chocolate?”.

You smiled and blushed a bit, again.

“Sorry, I’m just… really stressed. I thought I could manage better, but… this is just not it”.

“School?”.

“You must think I’m an idiot”.

“No way”, he assured you, frowning. “You know what I think of you. You’re incredibly smart”.

“I’m not, I’m doing so poorly on my exams and assignments, and…” you tried to explain, and the overwhelming weight of everything fell on your chest again. Your eyes watered.

“You’re overworking yourself too much, darling. You need to take a day off, or two”.

“I have no time, I won’t get anything done”.

“Well, you certainly won’t get anything done in this breakdown state of mind”, he said as tenderly as he could. He was right, and you sighed. You started fidgeting nervously with your fingers, tearing your cuticles. Almost as a reflex act, he grabbed your hands and caressed them so you would stop hurting them. “You humans run around the entirety of your lives. You spend it all running, speeding, not taking time to feel enough, to be rested and fulfilled enough”, he started saying, rocking you back and forth “you think you don’t have enough time, but for what?”.

“To do all the things I want”.

“And those are…? Careers to do? Places to visit? They all come to the same thing, love”.

“Feeling well?”.

“Yes”, he nodded. Your throat tightened once again, but this time out of relief. You really needed to hear this. “If you feel well doing these things, you won’t feel you’re wasting time once you finally rest. I’ve lived a thousand years. Do you think I always wanted to spend my life doing the same things?”.

“Well, no”.

“But it all came to the same thing when I thought I died”.

“You... what?”.

“I was on the Bifrost, about to fall. I wanted to feel good, to feel accepted, to feel loved by the people I loved”.

“It’s all we want at the end. I guess I overwork myself to make them proud”.

“I did too. And at the end, even when I tried my hardest, I couldn’t make them proud”.

“Oh God”, you said. He was still hugging and caressing you, as if the story he was telling didn’t affect him anymore. “And you…”.

“I threw myself off it”, he stated. You stopped and looked at him.

“Oh”.

“But”, he brought back to your hands the cup of tea “I survived. Even then, I kept thinking through the fogged lenses of doing something big for a future purpose, not paying any mind to my actual motivations”.

“How do you feel now?”.

“You know, if I wouldn’t have survived, I wouldn’t taste this amazing cup of tea” he said, sipping a bit from the cup still in your hands and bringing it to his cheek, warming him up. “And I wouldn’t be able to watch all these movies with you. And I would’ve missed all the Midgardians books I’ve read on Earth. And I wouldn’t have met anyone on here. And maybe, even looking closer, I wouldn’t have pushed all your buttons to break down so you would still be bottling up your stress and maybe even have had a heart attack and died unhappy and unfulfilled”.

“Wow there”. You both laughed. You rested your head on his lap and he watched you with a glimpse of a smile.

“What I’m trying to say is, take it one step at a time. Look at the big picture. Enjoy the process. All those things you midgardians say so often, they have almost lost all meaning. They sound cliché. They shouldn’t; for they are very true”.

“Thank you, Loki”, you sighed and started braiding one strand of his hair.

“Now go take a bath or something, stinky”. You both laughed. It was all fine.

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wheredafandomat · 2 years

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Loki y Loki

A/N: I was literally about to go to sleep then I just thought of this silly idea 😂 hopefully it flows and it’s decent! Let’s begin…

Sitting at the windowsill of your room, you licked your finger before turning the page of the book. The window overlooked the whole of Asgard and was your favourite place to read, relax and think. You were awaiting news from your brothers travels. He had visited Midgard, a realm that you were currently not allowed to enter, in order to retrieve a few new books for you along with the other little side mission you had sent him on. Whilst on Midgard, you had taken a certain liking to Dr Stephen Strange or your earth wizard as you’d often tease him as. You had instructed Thor to slyly take some pictures of him for you to put in your draws and not under your pillow. Now, you were eager for his arrival. Hearing someone unsheathing a dagger from the corner of your room quickly brought you back to your senses. As if instinctual, you quickly materialised your own dagger and projected it across the room, confused when you heard it collide with the intruders dagger and hit the floor. Quickly looking up, you furrowed your brows at the man standing before you.

“I’ll give you two seconds to name yourself before I impale you” you seethed, standing to your feet.

“Loki” the man stated with a shrug.

Materialising another dagger, you held it to his neck as you pushed him against the wall.

“You dare mock me” you fumed.

“You dare insult a prince, I’ll have your head for this.” He replied, flipping your positions and holding a dagger to your throat.

“Step away from her.” Thor warned, striding into the room with Mjölnir in his hand.

“Brother” you and the man exclaimed at the same time, jumping away from one another before turning towards each other “brother?”

“Who are you?” You and the man questioned one another in unison.

“I’m the goddess of mischief and lies” you declared, proudly “who are you? And don’t say Loki” You finished.

“I-I-Thor? Tell her! It’s me” he pleaded, turning towards Thor before grimacing at the decor “who let this wench ruin my room?” He pouted.

“Wench?” You scoffed “ILL HAVE YOUR HEAD!” You yelled, running towards Loki before he hid behind Thor. “Let go of Thor” you demanded.

“No” he answered.

“Let go of my Thor!” You whined.

“I think I know what’s going on here” Loki replied, stepping away from Thor with his hands up defensively.

“Explain” you prompted.

“Recently, I discovered this thing called variants. I think I may have miscalculated and have somehow ended up here in your timeline.” Loki explained.

“My timeline? Variants?” You exhaled.

“Basically, there are other versions of m—us. I’m obviously the original bu—”

“I’m the original” you stated “carry on.”

“Clearly I am the original” he replied, gesturing to himself.

“It’s me” you said again.

“Me.”

“Look at me, I’m the sexy adopted sister. Asgard’s sweetheart. When everyone found out my true heritage they were like wow of course, she’s beautiful and her family are all so mediocre. What did they say about you? Look at this ball of raven with the skin of a ghost” you laughed.

“I’ll have you in chains for that!” He snarled.

“I’ll have you!” You quipped.

“Well, if it’s really you, there’s only one way of telling” He settled, tapping his chin “who’s your favourite person?”

“That beguiling seductress that greets me in the mirror” you smirked.

“Damn, this really isn’t a nightmare, you are a Loki” he huffed.

“Can we kiss?” You decided to ask.

“That would be wrong” Loki said, shaking his head.

“It would, it would, kiss me.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Loki stepped towards you before leaning down and kissing you.

“What in Valhalla is going on?” Thor interrupted, pulling you both from the kiss.

“Thor, do try and keep up” Loki mocked.

“Don’t mock my Thor” you cautioned “surely you have your own Thor?”

“Yes” he answered.

“We’ll go and mock him.” You snorted.

“What are those?” Loki asked, looking at the pictures in Thor’s free hand. “Ew, Strange. We like Strange? I hate Strange” he cringed, throwing the pictures on the bed.

“Thor, please leave whilst I murder this imbecile” you said through gritted teeth. Without a word, Thor turned towards the door leaving Loki with a scared expression.

“The kiss” you began as you took small steps towards Loki “I’ve never actually had the pleasure of kissing Asgard’s prized silvertongue myself, for obvious reasons. I quite liked it, it almost makes you wonder what el—”

“Gods, you really are me” Loki interrupted.

“You are me” you corrected.

“We think the same.”

“We are the same.”

“Should we, get intimate?” Loki suggested.

“We should definitely get intimate” you grinned.

Dropping all weapons, you and Loki headed towards the bed where you both laid down before letting your hair free. Glaring at each other, you both sprang into action to try and lay your head on the others lap.

“Stop this, I order you to stop, stroke my hair first” you whined, fighting Loki away from you.

“My favourite person is actually Thor.” Loki sniffled as you stroked his hair.

“Yeah I know, me too, he’s just so—”

“Valiant” Loki finished.

“And loved” you added

“I know.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think you look like a ghost, I think you are very handsome.” You sighed.

“You are honestly the most attractive woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.” He answered.

“It seems that Loki’s are just destined to be breathtakingly bewitching.”

“Should we mope in the bath? Perhaps a glass of wine, some oils, salts?” Loki suggested.

“Lokiii, that’s my favourite thing” you smiled.

You both headed to the grandiose bathroom where there was an empty tub, around the size of a small pool, waiting for you. Using your sedir, you filled the bath with water whilst other Loki conjured the wine.

“Bloody hel you are gorgeous” you remarked as you both stepped out of your clothing.

“Why thank yo—and you’re looking in the mirror” Loki scoffed.

“Loki, why are we like this?” You asked as you both stepped into the bath.

“Like what?”

“Helpless romantics, the last choice, unloved, misunderstood.” You listed, lowering your head.

“Well, I understand you.” He assured, passing you a glass of wine.

You both remained in the bath for a while as you discussed the similarities and surprising differences in your life’s until Loki decided it was time for him to leave before he messed up the timeline again or something like that. As he got dressed, you pulled him towards you.

“Don’t go” you pleaded, running your hands over his body.

“You’re searching for the tesseract aren’t you?” He said, raising a brow.

“Can you blame me? Two tesseracts, now that would be rather lovely.”

“Wouldn’t it just” he smiled.

“It was nice meeting you.” You admitted honestly.

“Likewise.” He nodded.

“Let’s hope our paths never cross again.”

“Never.”

100 years later at some sort of multiversal war

“Loki?”

“Loki!”

“Lokiii!!!”

“Lokiiiiiiiii, heyyyy.”

“Hiiii”

“How you been?”

“The usual, getting bitches to kneel and looking good whilst doing it.”

“Same, same man.”

Hope you liked! 😂

#tom hiddelston loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#oc fiction #loki fanfiction #asgardian #drabble #random

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bebx · 3 years

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Yes, Mobius meeting Frigga would be so perfect and sweet. I wonder how he would react to Odin, though. Maybe if Odin's parenting was at least C+, Mobius would be willing to show him some respect and try to get along with him, but I guess if Odin was being a Dickfather to Loki his whole life, Mobius would be furious with him and he would also want to protect Loki from Odin. What do you think?

We’re in the Mobius-meeting-the-in-laws era and I’m here for it.

I think, if anything, Mobius’s not outright telling Odin to f*** off the second they met would be out of respect for Loki, not for Odin.

Because, sure, Loki may have told everybody he hated Odin, but I still don’t think he would want someone to start a war with Odin, especially not on his behalf. Not because Odin being disrespected by Mobius (or by anybody) would anger Loki but because it would make Loki feel like he couldn’t protect himself, like he needed someone to stand up for him. I don’t think he’d want that, even though he’d appreciate the thoughts of Mobius wanting to stand up for him.

And since Mobius has studied Loki, he’s fully aware Odin is far from being the Father of the Year, and I bet he’s furious, too. Though he’s more mature — or at least has decent amount of self-control — than to start throwing insults, because he knows that that will 100% end in absolute disaster. Odin is still the the king, basically a god who rules the nine realms. Piss him off and it might be Loki who pays the price, too, considering Odin’s power and what he’s capable of.

So the best way would be to just stay away, do not engage. Keep the anger to himself. I bet it would take Mobius quite an effort to keep his cool, but it was still better than spitting insults at Odin’s face and suffering from the consequences.

Would he want to protect Loki from Odin? I think, since Odin never physically harmed Loki, (not that we know of, talking only about the MCU) I think ‘protect’ wouldn’t be the best word to describe the situation, but Mobius would want to make up for what Odin failed to give Loki his entire life. And by doing that, he would tell him he’s so much more than what his father made him out to be, that Odin was wrong about his ‘birthright was to die’ , that he’s not Thor’s shadow and that he’s just as worthy as his brother is, if not more.

I think that would be Mobius’s way of protecting Loki from Odin, by making sure Loki knows the cruel words Odin said to him, about him, couldn’t be farther from the truth. And that Loki doesn’t need Odin’s approval. He doesn’t need to prove himself to someone who doesn’t know how to value him.

If Mobius can make Loki believe that, I believe it’ll bring Mobius peace, too. At the end of the day, they have each other. And that’s more than enough.

#my inbox is open #loki series #loki #mobius #lokius #odin #marvel #mcu #avengers #loki x mobius #mobius m mobius #thor #agent mobius m mobius #agent mobius #tom hiddleston #owen wilson #wowki #twhiddleston

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otaku4life16 · 2 years

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I’m In An Unhappy Marriage. But I’ll grin and Bare It For Them (Loki Prompt)

This story idea is up for adoption. I will not be writing this. this is the full extent of my writing prowess.

Thor and Loki go through and arranged marriage to unite their kingdoms in peace. Loki is desperate to make this marriage go well for jotunheim because without it his realm is doomed. Meanwhile Thor is unhappy that he was forced to get married to a Jotun and decides to take it all out on Loki(mostly just lots of verbal abuse, school yard bullying, and neglect).

Married life is hard for Loki: he is forced to wear clothing that has been feminized, unable to leave the realm, not allowed visits from his family, all the rules thor has placed on him (such as never showing his hideous face), he doesnt have any friends, has to always act like a perfect queen/wife,and since thor doesnt respect him and the royal couple barly ever talks to him no one really respects him or treats him like a prince. Its no wonder that are young prince gets more depressed as time goes on.

Until one day Thor decides he rather just hang out with his friends and runs away to join the Avengers. When the Avengers finally have to visit asgard they are shocked that Thor has a husband and a baby on the way(or one already here). After doing a little digging they find out just how horribly Thor treats Loki and decide to step in. Because this isn't right and nobody deserves such an unhappy marriage.

also loki is really depressed in a land that doesnt know a thing about mental health and he got married to thor young

please let me know if you want to write this story. also you dont have to use every idea

Thor is a giant jerk in the beginning of the story. the reason being is that he grew up knowing that he would have an arranged marriage but he always expected it to be with a beautiful women and not a male monster. So Thor decides to take all his frustrations and disappointment out on Loki. He insults him, shoves him around, trips him, pulls his hair, ignores and neglects him, has mistresses, hides his things, and makes comments about him to other people. So It's basically petty playground bullying. It's all because Thor didn't have his life changing banishment to Midguard where a few lessons got pummeled into his head. So yeah Thor has a lot of things he needs to learn before this marriage works out.

Loki decides to marry Thor to help out Jotunheim. Without the casket his realm is falling apart: Building crumbles, food is in short supply, and the weather is never right (it is either colder then it ever should be out they suddenly get a giant heat wave) and what magic they do have can only fix things for a short while. And while trading with other realms would help them (they have lots of jewels in their snowy mountains) Odin made it almost impossible to trade with other places after they lost the war to them. So because of all this Loki knows that all of his people are counting on him to make this marriage work. That is because Odin has promised to return the casket to jotunheim(but only after a specific amount of time has accrued or Loki has produced one/two/three heirs). And Odin needs to be shown that Loki would make a good future queen. that means that Loki has to do several things, like: being calm when Thor (or someone else) does something stupid, help with disputes within the land, studying everything under the sun, and all in all just acting like the perfect Queen.

With all of these rules and with so much on the line Loki is too afraid to act out against Thor or anyone else whenever they are being cruel to him. Instead he bites his tongue and decides to keep quiet until the casket is secured. After that happens he will finally stand up for himself and give everyone a piece of his mind(especially thor)

when Loki arrives on Asgard for the wedding he was wearing a veil (its a marriage tradition on jotunheim) (Got this idea from CypressTiger. Go read their story). After the marriage ceremony ended Loki was about to take of the veil when Thor stopped him. He told Loki that he needs to keep the veil on at all times so that nobody has to witness such an Ugly face (even though Loki is actually the most gorgeous being Thor will ever see underneath it)

To keep Thor happy Loki complies with his demands and continues to wear the veil and other veils since.

When Thor decides to leave Asguard to hang out with the Avengers Loki was either pregnant or had already had the kid (shows how great of a father Thor is). (Thor never even showed up to the castle much less Asguard during the birth of his own child.

The Avengers don't even know that Thor is married. And Thor doesn't care that he is. He goes parting with his friends and he has sex with woman.

Until one day something happens(maybe a villain, Thanos, Amora, or some dark magical force) makes the Avengers need to go to Asguard for help. When they get there the Avengers finally learn that Thor is a terrible husband(and maybe father). And decide to try and help fix it. Because this marriage is just an unhealthy mess at this point and the only one winning is Odin. Together the Avengers will force some knowledge and common decency into Thor's head. And just maybe Loki will finally get the happy and healthy marriage he deserves.

-maybe just have Loki and his kid/kids in his arms or them standing next to him by the throne when the royal family formally welcome the Avengers to Asguard.

-probably have the older kid hate thor for being a bad dad and for putting his Modi in this situation

-and maybe having Odin telling Loki how nice and patient he is when Thor acts like a fool and runs away. And Loki just smiles and says it okay and its all part of his duty to watch over him and stuff.(you can practically smell the BS)

-Thor probably ends up in a loving marriage with Loki in the end but he doesn't have to. Loki could end up getting married to one or two of the Avengers instead

Again this is a story idea and I will not be writing it. This is about all the writing I can do. But if you would like to adopt this story idea please let me know. Also please let me know what you think of this idea I wrote.

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sineala · 3 years

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A Few Thoughts About Hurt/Comfort

I have been asked this month to make a post about hurt/comfort in Avengers comics. And I love h/c -- I actually have a massive number of WIPs right now that are h/c -- so I am very happy to talk about it! Anyway, this is not really all that planned out and this mostly turned into an excursus on Tony Stark's pain. I'm sure you're all surprised.

Like pretty much everyone else, I'm sure, I have found that everything lately has been... pretty tough. And the coping mechanism that really got me through last year and this year was reading and writing a lot of h/c, on the theory that, however lousy a day I'm having, I can absolutely make sure that Tony Stark has a worse one. And then I can make sure he gets hugs. Wish fulfillment? Why, yes. (Once at Hallmark I was trying to find a "get well soon" card, forgot what it was called, and described it to my wife as "a hurt/comfort card.") I think Marvel Comics -- the Avengers side, in particular -- is an interesting canon for h/c for a lot of reasons. Though, honestly, if you asked me to recommend you, a hurt/comfort fan, a new fandom, I would probably just hand you some Starsky & Hutch DVDs. Go watch "The Fix" and get back to me later. If you like that, there's way more where that came from. But there's still lots to love in Marvel! Superhero comics are really a goldmine as far as the hurt side of h/c. Because superheroes, and you probably have noticed this, get hurt a lot. They get hurt repeatedly, in fantastical ways that are probably impossible in real life both physically and emotionally (at least, I don't think anyone's invented mind control yet), and even the heroes without superhuman healing powers tend to get physically hurt a whole lot worse than actual people can take. Currently in Iron Man comics, Tony has a broken back and is dealing with this by locking himself into the armor as a backboard and injecting himself with massive doses of painkillers. He's busy! He's got stuff to do! He doesn't have time to lie around and heal! So, basically, if you name a kind of pain that you would like to see happen to a character, it's probably happened to superheroes. Multiple times. The downside, though, is that comics do not really deliver that well when it comes to the comfort part of h/c. They could. It's not inherent to the medium that they don't. But because of the serial nature of comics and also the fact the primary audience is dudes who want to read about people in spandex punching each other, a lot of the time they don't really feel the need to provide closure and write about people dealing with any of the hurt. (Raise your hand if you're still annoyed with the end of Hickman's Avengers run.) But at the same time, I think that's a quality that makes Avengers ripe for h/c fanfic. Because, generally speaking, fandom likes to provide the things that canon doesn't, and fandom is more than happy to provide the comfort. If you enjoy canonical h/c in comics, I think you really can't go wrong with Iron Man. One of the big innovations of modern Marvel Comics was the concept that heroes would also suffer from relatable human problems, and in practice what this means is that a lot of heroes start with a fully-loaded angst-ridden backstory and origin story, ripe for h/c. So Tony starts out by incurring a heart injury that he fully expects is going to kill him, which he responds to by vowing he won't get close to anyone so they won't be sad when he dies, and throughout the early Silver Age is constantly on the brink of death as his heart nearly gives out on him practically every issue. And then even after his heart gets (mostly) better, there are various plots involving his armor being detrimental to his health and him choosing to fight on anyway. It's hard for me to think of another superhero hitting that particular variety of h/c in exactly the same way. Sure, superheroes risk their lives constantly, because this is how superhero comics work, but Tony is the only one I can think of who is this constantly this badly off, physically. Like, think of all the other heroes who have had a continual solo presence as fan favorites across Marvel history -- Captain America, Thor, Spider-Man, Wolverine, maybe even Deadpool. You know what those guys all have? Healing factors! For the most part, they are not running around continually on the verge of death, and while there are certainly memorable arcs involving several of them being severely injured and/or dead, you really have to work at it. It's not their constant state of affairs, whereas Tony is the kind of superhero who shows up to a fight already bleeding out under his armor. Yeah, I know Extremis gave him a healing factor. But he didn't have it very long, and also he did some extremely dangerous things while he did have it; I'm pretty sure I've never seen Wolverine saying that he'll just solve a problem by cutting off his own foot. So, anyway, yeah, there are a bunch of good arcs involving h/c for Tony. If you're looking for physical injury, he has a whole bunch of heart problems over the years, gets several new hearts, then ruins his brain, et cetera. That level of hurt is basically the background pain of Tony's life; every so often, his heart will get damaged or he'll have to live in the armor or the armor will be killing him, et cetera. If you're looking for more unusual trauma, I am, as always, going to rec Manhunt, a relatively obscure arc in late v3 (IM v3 #65-69) in which Tony has an extremely bad week. His tech is stolen and used to bomb a building. Then he gets shot in the chest. Then while he's at the hospital a nurse tries and fails to poison him, and she then tries to beat him to death. Then he checks himself out of the hospital and a helicopter shoots missiles at him. Then he becomes a fugitive from justice. And then, oh, yeah, he has to fight the Mandarin. It is... a lot. (Volume 3 of Iron Man is pretty good as far as h/c possibilities. You've got a lot of physical pain, Carol's drinking arc, the Sentient Armor, both DreamVision arcs, and Manhunt. Manhunt is finally supposed to be out in trade this month, by the way.) There are of course the drinking arcs, which probably count as their own type of hurt. But if you haven't read the second drinking arc (IM #160-200), please do. Marvel likes to up the stakes on events (Fear Itself, Secret Empire) by making Tony drink, and it does work, I think. I feel like I've spoken at length about Tony's drinking elsewhere so I don't really want to rehash it all here. And then there's the emotional pain. Angst and drama is something that happens to a whole bunch of characters, yes, especially in comics, but somehow Tony seems to end up with possibly more than his fair share of it. Fandom likes to make a lot of Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, so much so that you might think, if you didn't know canon, that this was just fandom running with a throwaway mention of Tony's terrible childhood and making it worse. But, no, canon really does go there with a reasonable amount of frequency. Howard's actual first appearance is in a flashback where he's ordering teenage Tony to break up with his girlfriend because she's the daughter of one of Howard's business rivals. And then we get into the verbal abuse, and the physical abuse, and the time Howard made Tony take his first drink, and the part where Howard was a demon in hell who Tony fought while he insulted him. And more! Currently, in canon, Howard is alive again and is in league with Mephisto for the express purpose of ruining Tony's life. Also when Tony was a baby, Howard tried to trade him to Dracula. I think you can make an argument that fandom is actually showing restraint when compared to canon. Tony also has a whole lot of Terrible Exes whose presence and/or former presence in Tony's life can be used for a lot of hurt. If you've read any amount of fanfic, you probably know that the exes who get the most play in fandom are Sunset Bain and Tiberius Stone -- not that Tony and Ty were ever canonically a couple, of course, but fandom is definitely enamored of this idea. Ty and Sunset both have relatively similar interactions with Tony in canon, in that they are both liars and emotional abusers, heavy on the gaslighting, with the purpose of becoming more successful than Tony. They both also attempt to murder Tony, although this is after he figures out they're evil, at least. (Yes, I know, this is not how either of them usually appear in AUs.) Tony also has a bunch of exes who also have just straight-up tried to murder or otherwise hurt him, sometimes while they are dating, and sometimes before Tony dates them: Whitney Frost, Indries Moomji, Kathy Dare, and Maya Hansen come to mind. There are probably more I'm not thinking of! But, yes, if you want to write about a guy in a series of terrible relationships, please consider Iron Man comics. If mind control is one of your favorite flavors of hurt, Tony's pretty good for that too. We all know about The Crossing. I suppose when I say "mind control" I mostly mean "armor control" because there are an awful lot of plots where someone else makes Tony's armor do whatever they want it to do and Tony is along for the ride -- Demon in a Bottle, Sentient Armor, and Execute Program are the first things that come to mind. There is also a fairly obscure What If that is What If Iron Man Lost The Armor Wars in which Justin Hammer apparently really wants Tony in a mind control collar to take off all his clothes and lounge around in his underwear. No, really. I think a lot of pain for Tony often revolves around his issues with control, generally -- his alcoholism comes into play here again. The entire aftermath of Civil War is also notable for its propensity to hurt Tony over and over and over. Is he stoically soldiering on through his grief after Steve dies? Hell, no! He cries, like, six separate times. He 100% blames himself for Steve's death. It's great. Everybody loves The Confession and the funeral in Fallen Son, but one of my personal favorites is Avengers/Invaders, in which Tony is confronted with a time-traveling Steve from WWII and in order not to screw up the timeline, he can't tell Steve he knows him. He is clearly not coping well. He shuts himself in a room with a giant wall of pictures of Steve! Also there's a part where he has to try to convince Steve he can trust him and he ends up having to tie Steve to a chair to talk to him, and Steve looks at him and asks, "Who did you kill to get where you are?" and I feel like that is probably one of the worst moments in Tony's life. No wonder he gave himself amnesia. So now we might want to ask, okay, but why is hurting Tony in fanfiction so much fun? I mean, I can tell you why I think it's fun. I can't speak for anyone else. One reason is that he is very emotional and very affected by everything he does. Sometimes you will see people complaining that the heroes of m/m fanfic cry too much and this is not realistic. This is not a problem if you're writing Tony! He can cry as much as you want and it's perfectly in character. I don't think it would be as fun to hurt him if he didn't express so much of his pain. But he does. He also feels guilty, and for me that's a very satisfying character element. If he were well-adjusted and didn't blame himself for so many things, it wouldn't be nearly as fun as watching him blame himself for everyone whose death he thinks he is responsible for, whether or not he is. And then he just keeps going, and it's, y'know, nice to watch him be resilient, too. So, I guess, I think hurting him is interesting because it's easy to hurt him, his weak points are pretty obvious, and he reacts a lot. Steve doesn't hurt quite as much as Tony does, in canon. It's certainly possible to hurt him -- I mean, they did actually kill him after Civil War, after all -- but I don't think the canonical patterns of hurting him are as numerous. Obviously deseruming Steve is a fairly popular go-to in terms of physical hurt; he's been deserumed at least three times that I know of. I think's easy to see the appeal there of taking a character who is fairly physically resilient and making him... much less so. Certainly Marvel seems to see the appeal. But other than that I don't think he has any other really common way to get physically injured. Unlike Tony, whose origin story is basically "oh no, I've acquired a disability," Steve's origin story is "I drank a serum that cured all my disabilities." Which, I mean, great wish fulfillment but there's not really as much there to poke at. Pretty much all of Steve's pain is emotional, but, unlike Tony, his pain isn't often specifically in response to someone directly, purposefully hurting him. Hickman's Avengers run is a big exception, yes. His pain seems to come up most often as a kind of situational angst. He feels like a man out of time. He feels out of touch with the modern era, with people his own age. He feels guilt because he feels responsible for Bucky's death. He feels like he can't trust the government and therefore he can't be Captain America. He worries that he doesn't know how to have a normal life. And, yes, these are deep and important worries but it's different than, like, Indries Moomji dumping Tony with the intent to make him sad enough to start drinking. Very few of Steve's villains want to personally ruin Steve's entire life the way Tony's villains do; mostly they just want to do things like bring back the Nazis. In terms of Steve's potential for h/c, I think Steve is harder to hurt than Tony is. Physically, he is definitely harder to hurt. You can deserum him, sure, but unless you want everything you write to be a deseruming fic you're probably not going to want to do that more than a couple of times. And if you want to hurt him physically while he has the serum, you have to hurt him hard. Usually past the point where a regular human would ever survive it. He's also harder to break, emotionally, than Tony is -- which means it's very satisfying when you can get him to break, but this is a guy who's only cried twice (that I remember) in canon. So if you want to get him to cry, you really, really have to wreck him, and he doesn't have as many obvious weak spots. He also doesn't generally sit around blaming himself for things that aren't his fault, and the whole "stewing in guilt" genre of plots for him basically came down to "he was sad that he thought Bucky's death was his fault," and that's really the biggest regret he seems to have, and also Bucky's not dead anymore. The Steve/Tony relationship itself, I would think, is also appealing to h/c fans because canon provides a lot of ways for them to hurt each other. Some people only ship pairings who would never, y'know, take turns beating each other half to death in major event comics. (And for a lot of Marvel Comics history, that was also Steve & Tony, so if you want them to be BFFs who have never fought, you can just set your fic earlier.) They have definitely hurt each other both physically and emotionally, so if you're looking for something easy and satisfying as a h/c fan, you can just read or write something where they... make up. What about Marvel characters other than Steve and Tony? Surely some of them are angsty, yes? Well, yes, but also it depends on the particular flavor of angst that you like. If you like the way Tony hurts, you may very well enjoy Doctor Strange comics, because they have a very similar attitude towards life -- they are both former alcoholics whose origin stories involve physical disabilities, who routinely make tactical decisions that negatively affect their continued existence and/or happiness a whole lot. It's very much an "I must suffer alone in the dark and no one will ever know what I am doing to save the world but it's the right thing to do" sort of vibe. Like, you can read comics where Strange is lying in hell with two broken legs, hallucinating that Clea has finally come to save him. Strange's biggest fear, akin to Tony's control issues, is basically that one day he's going to be an asshole again, so he's out there trying as hard as he can to do good. Also, if you like tentacles, he has all of them. I mean that. Carol also occasionally hits similar angst spots, and her drinking arc is great. A lot of people like Natasha, too; I have read zero Black Widow comics but I get the impression many people enjoy her brand of angst. The mutant metaphor is a little different in terms of overall vibe, but some people really like it as a source of angst -- the whole "protecting a world who hates and fears them" thing. It may not work for you, but if you like your hurt to include things like systemic oppression, go pick up some X-Men comics. Start with something like God Loves Man Kills. I feel like I liked this sort of thing a lot more as a teenager but that I kind of aged out of liking the mutants quite so much. It's also worth mentioning that not everything that hits the spot in one universe will be the same in the others, and I'm mentioning this because I feel like I have to say something about MCU Bucky. MCU fandom seems to get a lot of mileage out of Bucky's guilt about being the Winter Soldier, everything he was forced to do, et cetera. I have definitely read my share of those fics, and FATWS sure went right for that angst too. But as far as I can tell, he doesn't hit the same way at all in 616. And I like him a lot in 616; I'm always pleased when he shows up on a team. (He was so good in Strikeforce. Everyone was so good in Strikeforce.) But the thing is, 616 Bucky is, basically, phenomenally well-adjusted, given everything he's gone through, and I'm including the time he wrestled a bear in a gulag. He gets over having been the Winter Soldier, and now he's just, y'know, a guy with a cool arm who likes to bring guns to every fight to horrify his teammates, and he snarks at Clint. If you're looking for that angst, that is really not him these days. He's all better. So pretty much all that is canon. So what do we do in fandom for h/c? Well, as far as I can tell, a decent amount of it is canon-based or very canon-close -- there are a whole lot of stories exploring the angst of Civil War or Hickman's Avengers run. Tony's drinking comes up a fair amount, and if one of Tony's Evil Exes comes back to haunt him, it's pretty much only Tiberius Stone. I don't think I've read a lot of fic with Steve getting deserumed; it doesn't seem as popular in fandom as in canon. When Steve gets hurt, he tends to just get physically whumped pretty hard, and there's a fair amount of that for Tony too, but of course Steve can take more. There's also a thriving, uh, subgenre of pain involving Hydra Steve doing terrible things to Tony, presumably the terrible things he would have wanted to do to Tony in canon if Tony had had a flesh body. There's the usual kinds of h/c setups that appear in basically every fandom as well -- sickfic, whump, dub-con/non-con. You get the idea. But since fandom in general likes to take specific inspiration from canon, there's a lot of fic where the hurt tends to resemble things that happen more in canon. Like, I feel like comics fic probably has more tentacle fic and more mind control than canons that don't come pre-stocked with those. Probably everybody has a whole lot of "tied up by bad guys," though. And then, of course, fandom brings the comfort that canon does not. This is true in pretty much every fandom -- I mean, you aren't going to find a lot of actual canons where Character A saves Character B from mortal peril and then there's gay sex -- but, like I was saying, comics don't provide a lot of closure before it's onto the next thing. Usually with a different creative team, who has no interest in wrapping up anything from the last team. Steve and Tony talked about the incursions exactly once after Secret Wars and nobody mentioned the part where Steve spent several months trying to hunt Tony down and kill him. Tony is never going to remember the events of Civil War. Hydra Steve died ignominiously in a fire and no one has ever talked about him again. Honestly, if you're looking for a way to get some comfort in your fanfic, picking an event, any event, and just having the characters talk about it will be way more than any of them get in canon. I feel like honestly that can often be a pretty satisfying to read. And even though comics canon physically hurts characters pretty often and pretty badly, they also often skip right past the recovery. Maybe you'll get one page of a character in a hospital bed at the end of the story arc. Maybe you won't. Demon in a Bottle has one splash page of Tony going through alcohol withdrawal and then he's all better. I think Manhunt skips to Tony getting out of the hospital at the end. That's just not a story that they want to tell very often. The second drinking arc is notable in that it devotes almost as many issues to Tony's recovery as it does to getting him to rock-bottom. Similarly, Steve is done with his Nomad angst way way faster than you probably think he is (though The Captain does go in for a fair number of issues). So one of the things we often want to do in fandom is focus on all the bits that canon skips over, both in the "why did no one ever mention this story arc ever again" way and the "wow, so how long are they in the hospital after that" way. That's really all I can think of about h/c! I'm off to write some more of it!

#posts i actually wrote

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imagine-loki · 3 years

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Hiding in Plain Sight

TITLE: Hiding in Plain Sight

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 12 Final Chapter.

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE:Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé. You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other.How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies?

RATING: General Audience

NOTE: final chapter

Loki scoured his desks and shelves for those letters. When the knock came to his door, he gave a nod to Tatianna to open it. The maid, who had been working diligently with him in search of said letters, rushed over to check it was who she had been sent for. “The Postmaster, Lord Johan, Your Highness.” She introduced as the Postmaster came in.

“Lord Johan.” The Postmaster bowed. “Prince Loki, I came as soon as I could.” “Thank you.”

“How can I assist you, Your Highness.” “My brother has informed me that three letters were brought to my rooms over a period of months from the Ljósáfar palace.”

The Postmaster’s eyes widened. “You did receive such, Your Highness. I organised them for your rooms myself as I do all the mail for your family. They even had the name of the sender on them, the Princess Raven of Alfheim. Such fine writing she has too. Artistic and neat.”

Loki nodded and took little heed of the statement, It was well-known that the Postmaster was a graphophile, he supposed a few millennia of looking at different handwriting would turn almost anyone into one.

“I have never received them.” The Postmaster’s mouth opened to speak. “I am not, for one moment, suggesting you to be telling me falsities, Lord Johan, I know of the due care you put into your work but also I know you have entirely no reason to lie.”

“On two of the three occasions, they came alongside other post. On the final one, it did not and I ensured they all made their way to your rooms. Because of their importance, I placed them in the centre of your desk rather than the usual place.” Loki’s eyes widened and he looked at his desk, which was kept clean for when it was needed for work matters but there was nothing on it at present. “It begs the question then, where did they go, and why would anyone do such a thing as to move them?” He looked at Tatianna as he spoke. The maid shook her head slightly. Loki did not suspect his maid. He questioned her for a moment upon returning to his rooms, asking her if she recalled such letters but she stated that she did not. He had no reason to suspect her, she did not have anything to gain from dishonesty and she had even been readying the rooms in case Raven was to be joining Loki in them. She had tidied shelves in case she too was a reader and had books to join Loki’s. She had gone through each and every item of clothing of his that she could find, discarding the damaged, repairing others making room for the new princess. If anything, Loki suspected she was half excited to have a woman to assist tending to. She loved fashion and hair meaning having a princess to assist with events would undoubtedly be something pleasant for her. “Tatianna, have you tried behind those scrolls?”

“No, Your Highness, I will try now.” She darted off to do that. “Do not forget, Your Highness, Her Majesty insists you turn up for dinner. Missing lunch was unacceptable, missing dinner is...well…” “Let me guess, if I do not turn up, I will have Gungnir force me to turn up?”

“Something to that effect.”

Loki rolled his eyes at his parents’ attempts at threats. “Very well, you keep searching.” She nodded and did so. “Where in the realms are they?” Loki muttered to himself. * The prelude to the dinner did not fair as badly as Loki had worried that it would. For most of it, he spoke with the Ljósáfar princes, all of whom seemed amiable in their own ways, but what he did notice was his mother looking worriedly at him, though he barely acknowledged her unless she spoke to him directly as he did not want to embarrass his family and that there was no sign of Raven.

When dinner time arrived, he began to feel insulted that she had been able to avoid it while he was being forced to endure it. The fact that it was a public dinner made it all the worse. The whole realm would hear the announcement of the forthcoming wedding and she was not even present. What also caught his attention was the Vanir that Thor was clearly speaking within an intimate manner before the meal but who was sat down separately for the meal. He recognised her. She was of good personality but little on looks but she was from a powerful house and Asgard’s tie to Vanaheim had to remain strong so he suspected that she would be announced as Thor’s betrothed as soon as Loki’s marriage ribbon was tied. Raven was of far better looks and he knew from her knowledge of literature that she at least was not without a mind but he still felt angered by it all.

Thinking in his own mind, he heard nothing of the talk around him. It was only when he noticed a severely tense atmosphere around him that Loki got pulled from his thoughts as a shadow came into view beside him. At first, he thought the tense atmosphere was from Raven, who finally decided to grave them with her presence but after a moment, seeing her meek demeanour, he noticed she was the subject of the tense atmosphere, not the instigator. Sitting beside him, she did not even try to look at him or engage him in any manner.

“It’s good to see at least that your brothers and parents disapprove of your actions,” Loki growled lowly to her as the noise around them increased, allowing them some privacy to speak.

“My parents do not care in the slightest about that. They were more worried about me embarrassing them by learning to sew and such than anything. They were simply glad that I was no longer there being of age and unmarried.” She stated in a monotone that still seemed to seep sadness.

Loki frowned slightly. “So what has them all looking at you as though you are a disgrace?” His curiosity got the better of him.

“I should not be in public at present. It’s disgraceful. They disagree with your parents insisting that this dinner go ahead, they felt it should have been postponed.”

“I am very much inclined to agree with that sentiment. Though, I doubt our reasonings are the same, are they?”

“I very much doubt it.” She toyed with her hands.

Loki watched the action carefully, realising she had been doing so with nervousness and anxiety clearly for at least the day if not longer from the marks on them. “You will pull the skin off if you keep doing that.” She stopped and put her hands to her side. “I’m curious, what happened to the woman that stormed my room today and called me a...was it a pretentious prick?” Raven’s eyes widened and she looked around at her parents, praying to every Norn that they had not heard.

Loki studied her reaction. Thor’s and his mother’s words coming to the fore of his mind. They were both right, he didn’t like this more than he disliked a woman that would snap back. He didn’t like being called a pretentious prick but the silent and moping creature next to him was a thousand times worse. “So, you have left two things unanswered, how you shamed them enough to want them to call off this dinner announcement and where you hid the woman that barged into my rooms?” Raven said nothing for a moment, her tongue toying with her teeth as she considered her answer. “I should not have done that and I sincerely apologise for having done what I did to…”

“Norns, stop. I don’t want to hear it. Just answer my questions.” Loki hissed.

“Because I am bleeding.” She said nothing more and waited for his reaction, awaiting disgust.

Loki did not comprehend as to what she was referring to for a moment. He was going to insist that she head to the hospital wing for herself when it dawned on him what she was referring to. In his own mind, he thought to make a comment about it explaining her attitude towards him but he knew that was a cheap excuse. She had stated several times she was told off by her parents for being sarcastic and outspoken. Even when they were waiting for dinner to begin, her brothers had made comments on her behaviour being seeing as unlike other Ljósáfar women. “I am failing to see how that affects things. I am aware it is not an overly pleasant situation for a female but there are surely some things that can assist?” Raven gave a small smile at his innocence to the situation. “In Alfheim, high-born women are not seen while bleeding, or pregnant, or not until she is a certain date past childbirth, it’s seen as shameful and dirty.” “But they are basic parts of being female.” Loki didn’t even think over his reply, it came straight out of his mouth before he could process it. He looked at her, seeing the agreement in her eyes making him realise her earlier words on trying to see if she could be forced to continue such a life and how much they actually meant. Suddenly, he realised there was some sense to her actions. Insane as they were. He knew his and Thor’s lives were restricted by their positions in society, but what Raven was describing was nothing short of a form of imprisonment to him. “Obviously, it is different here. Mother did not retire from court until she was almost due my brother and myself.” He didn’t know why he used that example, she made it clear she did not like the idea of even having children but he wanted to settle her some bit.

Raven merely nodded.

As Loki was going to ask her about the letters, Odin rose to his feet silencing the room. He spoke on and on of the honour of hosting the Light Elves, the sharing of ancient magical knowledge and other such things, how they have been allies through several wars, nothing, of course, on the ones they were adversaries and other such words. No one spoke through the Allfather and when he ceased that speech, there was a cheer and raising of cups and tankards. When he spoke of the marriage, Loki gave a slight nod, as would be expected, while Raven looked around in a manner that she hoped offended no one yet knew it would offend her family terribly. When another cheer was made and another drink was taken, the talking began in earnest.

Raven seemed to think to do nothing but swirl the contents of the cup.

“Have you had mead before?” Loki found himself talking to her both out of boredom and curiosity.

Raven shook her head. “It’s nice, though.” She kept her voice down.

Loki pursed his lips. “Could the woman from today who sassed me please come out? Is there a button that activates her or is it only until a certain time of day, then at night, this meek creature emerges?” Raven’s eyes flickered toward her father, which Loki caught. “Ah, that explains things.” He leant closer causing her to shift slightly in her seat. “As of tonight, you realise you are supposed to adhere to Aesir norms, not Ljósáfar ones. Now, I need to discuss a matter with you.”

“Regarding?” “Some letters.” Raven frowned at him. “It was brought to my attention today that you sent letters to me before this...charade.” Raven looked at him suspiciously. “I did. Three.”

“Yes, Thor mentioned and the Postmaster confirmed.”

“And going by your reaction, you doubted this?” “I never received them.” Raven could not help pursing her lips in disbelief.

“I did not.” “You leave all of your post on that platter, you never miss anything. I saw that myself.” Loki studied her carefully, seeing the disbelief in her eyes. “You think I discarded them without reading?” “You read everything, this I know.” “I never received them.” He stared straight back at her, his rich green eyes willing her to see he was being truthful. “The Postmaster placed them on my desk but I never got them.”

“All three escaped your notice?”

“It appears they did.” “One I would believe, three, I am sceptical.”

“So was I when I heard such for the exact same reason,” Loki admitted. “Did you move them when you came?” “I...They would not have still been there by the time I came.”

“But you did not see them in the room, since you organised things in it?” “No, you’re not listening, they would not have still been in existence. I used paper made with Cat’s Claw oil, meaning…” “It dissolves within a month,” Loki completed. “Why, though?”

Raven nodded. “Yes, I did not want private correspondence with headed paper to be at risk of forgery, so I use that oil. Don’t you?” “I will now.” Loki could not fault her logic. If anything, he was embarrassed he had not thought of it. “What did you write?”

“Nothing too taxing. What were the best books to understand Aesir court and history best? I had heard you were an avid reader, so who you enjoyed? What other hobbies you had, nothing too intimate. The first and second were similar as I thought you had not received the first for whatever reason. The last was a tad more abrupt. Then I stopped trying.” She toyed with her hands again.

“You’re damaging your skin.” Loki admonished. “I am sorry your letters went unanswered. I don’t know what happened to them, I will find out but I did not ignore them.” “I believe you.”

Loki could see she meant it. “If I had seen them…”

“We could be dealing with a different situation right now. Not that it excuses my actions.”

Loki nodded slightly.

“I am sorry for what happened. I truly wish I had not done such. But thank you for your concern also.”

“Concern?”

“When I told you I would be leaving your service and I seemed upset, even though you were upset, you were adamant that if I was being mistreated, I could tell you. Even when you felt terrible for yourself, you showed concern for me, even when you did not like me. I think it showed me so much about you.” She gave a small smile. “Even if you think little of me as I truly am.”

Loki was going to challenge that but he saw the slight smirk and playful glint in her eye. “Norns, you switch between two different demeanours faster than the Bifrost travels realms. It will be exhausting to keep up with.” “I think you forget that I know what you are like. We will be suffering together.”

Loki chuckled to himself, thinking that this situation may not be entirely terrible if they tried. Seeing the hopeful look on Raven’s face, he suspected with some work, perhaps they could.

Raven found herself looking at a certain someone staring at her disapprovingly in the crowded room. She took a moment to realise just who it was before giving the other woman a raised brow. For her part, the other woman seemed genuinely startled as to the Light Elf she had previously spoken down to. With Loki’s interest in the princess and the princess knowing full well who she was and what she had said, she knew there was no manner to get into her good graces under false pretences but also that the Light Elf knew full well about everything and could ensure she kept a close eye on such, so she looked at her food again.

#Loki #others #submission #submitted fic #chapter 12 #wolfpawn #hiding in plain sight

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chipper9906 · 3 years

Text

Maybe

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON 01 EPISODE 05: ‘JOURNEY INTO MYSTERY’ AND SEASON 01 EPISODE 04: ‘THE NEXUS EVENT’

Pairings: Loki/Sylvie

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 4,124

Status: One Shot - Complete

Chapter Preview:

He had meant for it to come out more as a question, an offering. A possibility for the both of them. But what it really sounded like was a… well; a sincere, hope-filled attempt to keep hold of… this. Whatever this was, he knew he wanted it. However things went, he knew-

He wanted Sylvie in his life.

His heart was racing in his chest, pounding almost as hard as it does in the midst of battle. In the unlikely event he’s a free man after all of this over, he’ll have to go and find his brother - if he’ll even talk to him, that is - and apologize for the harsh insult he used; for berating his older brother over his affection for that Earth woman.

He understood now.

Link To Fic

Click Below To Keep Reading

Author Note:

Oh Boy, here I go again, getting sucked into yet another ship. Basically, this is a dive into Loki's thoughts during the blanket scene in Episode 5 "Journey Into Mystery" because man, I sure do love getting into a character's head and breaking down their thought process.

P.S. No joke, I think I re-watched the blanket scene like... over 40 times I counted, roughly. Wanted to make sure I got every detail right lmao.

Oh wow, would you look at that - yet ANOTHER fic based on the blanket scene? I'm sure this hasn't been done by many different people ever since Episode 5 aired! Nah, I'm sure this is purely original stuff.

(Listen, this scene and - consequently - this fic got stuck in my head and I just had to write it down and... well here we are.

* * *

This was, as he had said, new for him.

It was… strange, to say the least. Not just because the woman who was sat next to him was, technically, on some sort of level, himself. And yet… not. Sylvie was her own person, that was for sure. And the only Loki, from who he’s met, who refuses to be called Loki. She had chosen her own name, and was currently choosing – or carving, was more accurate – her own path. A way out of the never-ending, self-sabotaging, “only use is for improving others” apparent destiny they’ve all found themselves in.

She had lived an entirely different life from him - and the use of the word ‘different’ here is strongly applied. It makes him a little uneasy when he dwells on it for too long if he’s being honest with himself. Yes, there may some similarities between them, as to be expected, but Sylvie had lived her own set of experiences different to his. Differences that had shaped her, made her see the world… universe… timeline? All of that, in a different way to him. Learning of the things she had gone through, what she’s trying to accomplish… it made his “glorious purpose” of ruling over “Mid-guard” seem like a spoiled boy's desperate attempt to feel important.

Everything with Sylvie and the TVA had shut down that ideal very quickly. Or, at least, has changed his view of his “Glorious Purpose”. The one change that he hadn’t seen coming, that Sylvie herself had told him; the very first words she had actually said to him:

“This isn’t about you.”

No, it wasn’t about him. Not just him, anyway. It was… it was all of him. Every version of himself out there, and every other variant of... Of everyone to have ever existed. Those, just like him, who are punished for stepping out of their pre-written timeline. Those that, when they try to change themselves, to be the person who those that loved him did everything in their power to guide them to be, were snatched away by the TVA and sent here to this pit of unwanted, broken things; left with nothing but unforgiving and dirty survival, only to lead to their inevitable death.

And it’s cold.

“Mobius isn’t so bad.”

Sylvie breaks the comfortable lull of silence they had found themselves in. They were, technically, supposed to be ironing out the details of this plan to enchant a creature much, much larger than them, whose only desire is to eat everything that enters the world they’re currently in. Which is why, perhaps, they had taken the moment to just… breathe. A moment of rest, side by side. Whilst it was true that his plan of killing the gargantuan cloud thing was near suicidal, it would be fair to say that Sylvie’s plan was equally as dangerous. Then again, what did he expect? Seemed that every type of Loki out there isn’t the best at creating plans…

“Or so good,” Loki counters. It seemed almost cruel to say, but… it was also true, wasn’t it? Sure, Mobius had done the things he’d done because he thought they were the right things to do – but that didn’t take away from the fact that he’d done them. How many variants, not only of him, but of so many other poor souls had been doomed to this place because of his work? Still, it wasn’t like Mobius had the full picture with everything. Mobius had been lied to just as much as he had. “I think that’s why we get along.”

A small smile pulls at Sylvie’s lips. She takes a deep breath in, staring out to the horizon where Alioth awaits prowling his territory. “He cares about you.”

That catches him off guard. He supposed that she and Mobius must have had some type of conversation in however long they’d spent driving to reach them. Apparently, the topic of conversation must have steered towards him at some point. And somehow, through that, Sylvie had deduced that Mobius… cared about him?

There’s a soft, knowing smile on Sylvie’s face as she catches sight of his reaction. It was probably the closest similarity they shared: friendships… didn’t quite seem to happen for them.

But there’s something else there in Sylvie’s expression as she looks to him. Almost a twinge of… of sadness. It sends an aching sort of pain through his chest as he sees it, coming to a sudden realization in his head. He knew that, deep down, the reason for his own loneliness was all due to himself. He knows now that there were plenty in his life that loved him, that always treated him like family even when, genetically, he wasn’t. But he had been blinded by jealousy and hatred, hatred that they had kept the secret of his true nature quiet for so long. It was because of this; this stubbornness and this selfish, false ideal that he deserves more, that he had made himself alone.

But Sylvie…? She had been well and truly alone. From such a young age, an age where his mother had barely begun teaching him the basics of magic, she had been snatched away from her life. Everything she ever knew and loved had been wiped away, the timeline dumped here just like everything else the TVA – or whoever the hell is actually in charge of the damn universe and its multiple timelines – decided was too much of a threat. Ever since then, from that very same day she had managed to escape their clutches, she had been running alone. All those years, fighting to survive, completely alone, existing in one apocalypse after the other. Even if she did try and interact with the people in those timelines, what would be the point? They were doomed to die, anyway…

Her words echo in his head for a moment, her sad smile seemingly etched into his memory. A part of him, that strangely soft side he didn’t know existed that had been growing stronger and stronger these past few days, burst with the need to do something, to remove the pain she was feeling. For just a split second, he nearly gives into it. He nearly says the words that were forcing their way to the forefront of his brain.

‘I care about you.’

But the words stay safely locked away in his head. Sylvie looks away from him, and the moment passes. He didn’t know if she had been expecting for him to say anything, and he certainly didn’t know what it is she might have thought he would say. His mind clambers for something, for anything to try and bring the moment back.

A strong gust of cool wind blows over them, sending chills across his pale skin - despite the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing. He knew that, if he really wanted to warm himself up, he could shift into his true form. Except, he didn’t see it as his true form. He has been an Asgardian as long as he can remember, and for all intents and purpose, this is who he’s meant to be. He is the son of Odin, son of Frigga, brother to Thor, an Asgardian, and he’s proud of that.

And that’s when the idea pops into his head.

“It’s cold,” Loki states the obvious to Sylvie with a shiver of his upper body, glancing over to try and catch her reaction out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, he wonders if Sylvie has the same views on their true heritage as he does, considering that, in her timeline, she was told she was adopted much earlier than he was.

She doesn’t mention anything about it, though. Instead, she simply agrees with his statement with a hum of “Mmm-Hmm,” but it’s exactly the kind of answer he’s looking for.

From the outside, it looks like an easy twirl of his fingers and a burst of lime-green light, but in reality, it’s years and years of practice, both by himself and… and with his mother. The weight of the blanket - though light - is comforting as it wraps around his shoulders; silky smooth to the touch and of a darker green than the light of his their magic.

The burst of color gets Sylvie’s attention, looking over to Loki again to see the new blanket he had materialized out of seemingly thin air - which… he did.

“I could conjure one for you, if you like?” Loki offers.

Sylvie smiles for just a split second, enough for Loki to believe that she might just say yes. But then her nose scrunches as she comes back to herself, and the belief is gone. “Tell you what, you could conjure me a new outfit,” Sylvie says off-handedly, pulling at the tight collar of her outfit. “You have no idea how uncomfortable something like this is.”

It’s a deflection. He knows that all too well, because… because it’s something he’d do. Not that he can blame her in the slightest. As he had said, just before he was pruned through the heart and sent here - this was entirely new for him. Sure, he had had his fair share of flings back home. Rare occasions when he would give in to temptations, let himself experience a slice of normality. But it was never real. He did not doubt that those that fell into his bed did not do so because they felt a connection, or saw a future. And neither did he. He was a prince, a God, and for most, saying you were able to seduce a prince was an achievement. And for him? Well, it was an easy means to an end, he supposed.

But this? This felt real. It was strange, it was something he had never experience before, and quite frankly, it scared the ever-living God’s out of him. So sure, he knew how to flirt… somewhat. But with this, with Sylvie? Everything was different, and he had no clue whatsoever what he should do.

“So…” Sylvie breaks him out of his thoughts. “Mobius, and his theory about…”

Oh. Well, he certainly hadn’t been expecting for the conversation to go there. Really, he had thought she might try and pretend to have never heard what Mobius had said.

“Right, right. About our Nexus event-,”

“Total rubbish, right?”

He’d be lying if he said that didn’t sting a little bit. “Absolutely,” ‘Liar’, a voice in his head hisses. “Of course, I mean-,”

“I don’t mean that it wasn’t a nice moment,” Sylvie hurries to say, and it lessens that sting just a little bit.

“No, it was great! It was really nice.”

“It just… sounds like another TVA lie.”

Which... Yes, when he thinks about it, could you easily have been a lie. Not that he thinks that Mobius would lie to them about this, no, but that someone else within the TVA had fed Mobius the lie. For what reason, he's not entirely sure. To throw them off the scent perhaps? Keep them from figuring out what can really cause a Nexus Event so powerful that it could conceivably take the TVA down.

Or, perhaps they just enjoyed lying. More than him even - and that's saying something.

"A hundred percent. I mean totally, yeah."

And oh, what was this? Loki tries to meet her eye, expecting her to nod her head vehemently in agreement to his statement. But... She won't look at him. She gives a somewhat strained-looking smile, more like a grimace than anything, and if he looks hard enough - by which he means projects his own feelings onto Sylvie and hopes she feels the same - he could almost imagine there was a flicker of disappointment there, too.

"I don't know how to do this," Sylvie says, an admission he didn't expect. She looks about as awkward as he feels, eyes fixated on her fingers as she plays with them.

"I don't even know what we're doing," Loki returns, and dear oh dear did he genuinely mean that. One moment he thinks he should take that step, say something, anything. And then the very next moment it becomes the wrong time, the wrong thing to say, and he's back to square one.

It was frustrating, to say the least.

"I don't have friends," Sylvie carries on, and it's another dagger through the heart. Yet another thing that was so similar, yet so, so different. He had been given so many opportunities for companionship, for friends, but he repeatedly threw them all away. But Sylvie? She wasn't even given the chance. She truly had-

"I don't have..." Sylvie trails off, a long gap where she struggles to find the right word to use. Her eyes had locked onto his, and he knew that nothing less than Alioth appearing right above their heads would get him to tear his eyes away.

"... Anyone."

"Well, there are more important things, right?" Loki desperately grasps for something to wipe away the blank, dejected look that was etched onto her features.

"Right? Yeah, like bringing down the TVA."

For once, one of his plans was going well. "Saving the universe, even."

"Well, there's no need to be dramatic - but yeah, kind of!"

Then there it was again - a particularly strong breeze pushing up to the little hill they were sat on. Sylvie gives a little shiver as it washes over them, a barely noticeable shuffle in an attempt to get warm, and Loki jumps at the opportunity.

It only takes one small adjustment, a brief push of magic, and then the blanket is growing, wrapping itself around Sylvie's shoulders in a motion so smooth, you'd think he'd done something like this hundreds of times before. Loki smiles gently to her when she notices the change, and his smile only grows more as Sylvie pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders, shuffling closer to him by just the smallest of movements. Yet another plan he could now say was a success.

"It's not very snuggly."

Or, maybe not. "Okay," Loki manages to get out through a surprised laugh, but he does get some sort of gratification in seeing her smile at his response.

"Is it a tablecloth?"

"No, it's a blanket," Loki finds himself strangely defending his materialized choice of cloth.

There’s a pause, the quickest of glances up to him. He sees a brief flash of pink as she pokes out the tip of her tongue between her lips, wetting them as she struggles to get out her next words. “Thank you.”

Loki gets a strange feeling she doesn’t get to say that all too often. Whether that be because she chooses not to, or because she’s never had the opportunity to. When was the last time someone did something nice for her…?

“My pleasure.”

Sure, this was all new, and all types of scary. But, as he sat here, shoulder to shoulder with Sylvie, looking out to the dreary yet oddly beautiful landscape scattered with remnants from pruned timelines, he can't help but feel that this moment right here? It was… nice. Despite the TVA, despite Alioth, despite the fear of imminent death he’s had to live through nearly every moment since the Tesseract flung him into that desert in Mongolia, he had managed to find himself some semblance of peace.

And it was because of the person next to him.

“How do I know that, in the final moments, you won't betray me?”

Now, this was a conversation he had been expecting. How can he not? It seemed that nearly every single person he’s ever come across, who he hasn’t immediately tried to murder, wonders the exact same thing. The ‘inevitable’ betrayal every Loki seems incapable not to carry out.

And he couldn’t blame them, just as he can’t blame Sylvie for wondering the same thing. Really, he had thought the whole reason she had wanted this moment to talk to him was to have this very conversation. It was… it was something he had thought about himself, ever since being dragged in by the TVA. It was Mobius that had shown him his consistent deceitful nature - quite literally, by showing him film of every moment in his life where his flair for dramatics and affiliation for backstabbing was apparently used for ‘the bettering of others’.

It had become deeply ingrained into his nature. It became what he was known for, what his family knew him for. He supposed it gave him some sense of… satisfaction, perhaps? A false sense of security, that he always has the upper hand when need be. It was almost like a trial, opportunities to prove to himself that, when the time comes, he can do what it takes to claim what he, false-fully, felt he was owed. He was certain that the only path to being a rightful ruler was one filled with betrayal.

And now, after only a few days with Mobius - and an even shorter amount of days with Sylvie, his previous ambition he’s been working towards for so long suddenly wasn’t as important. Things had changed.

He had changed.

And that was part of the reason the TVA wanted him dead.

“Listen, Sylvie, I…” Loki starts, but then stops. He sighs deeply, wanting to find the best way to get this across to her. He needed her to understand. “I betrayed everyone who ever loved me. I betrayed my father, my brother… my home.”

He at least had her full attention now. No more awkward glances at one another, unable to maintain more than a few seconds of eye contact. This was important, and they both knew it. “I know what I did. And I know why I did it. And that’s not who I am anymore. Okay?”

There’s nothing on her face that he can read, nothing that says whether she believes him or not. She had been expecting him to say this, he supposed. “I won't let you down,” Loki says, and he says it like a promise - one he fully intends to keep.

“You sure?” Sylvie asks, and he nods his head straight away in response. “ ‘Cause if we make it, and the TVA is gone, there might be a timeline for you to rule.” Sylvie continues with a challenging - yet slightly teasing- narrowing of her eyes.

“Ah,” Loki says wistfully, looking out to the horizon as if dreaming of such an event. “And then I’d finally be happy.”

Except, he wouldn’t. He only has to look at his older self to know that. The only one of himself that had beaten the one event that’s supposed to define their lives. He had tricked the mad titan himself, found himself a little corner of the universe to live out his life in peace. No more people he has to challenge, no more opportunities for betrayal - by him, or to him.

And he looked… miserable.

Now, though? Right here and now, he wasn’t miserable. He certainly wasn’t relaxed, that was for sure, but far from miserable. He had ended his little exclamation with a rare smile that wasn’t a smirk - or forced- and miraculously, Sylvie returned one just as wide as his; wide enough even for him to see the little laughter lines crinkling at the corner of her eyes.

“What about you?” Loki asks. “What will you do when this is all over?”

Sylvie takes a moment to think, tucking an unruly strand of hair away from her face. “I don’t know.”

He couldn’t even begin to try and put himself in her shoes. Sylvie had spent… hundreds, perhaps even a thousand years of her life just running. Surviving. Doing whatever it takes to make sure she wasn’t wiped off the board by some mystery figure, or group, that had deemed her too dangerous to the timeline. And for what? Some kind of sick desire to have control over every single living thing in every type of Universe to ever exist?

Which… which sounded an awful lot like himself, now he thought about it. Maybe whoever was in charge of the TVA was another variant of himself…

“I don’t know either,” Loki said, and that added to the tally of growing truths he was admitting to people - perhaps the most in his life.

At some point, this all had to be over. Whether… whether it ends in his death once again, another defeat by a power-hungry being, or with their victory. No more TVA. No more pruning of variants. No more control. Sure, Sylvie had made that joke about him ruling a separate timeline, but… what would he do once this was all over, assuming her survives it? What did he want to do?

What does he want?

‘Look at your eyes! You like her!’

‘What?’

‘You like her! Does she like you?’

‘Was she pruned-’

‘No wonder you have no clue what caused the Nexus Event on Lamentis; both of you are swooning over each other!’

‘Tell me the truth-’

‘It’s the apocalypse! Two Variants of the same being, especially you, forming this sick, twisted romantic relationship - that’s pure chaos! That could break reality, it’s breaking my reality right now! What an incredible, seismic narcissist - you fell for yourself!’

‘Her name was Sylvie’.

Mobius had truly tricked him there. At least now he knew how cruel it was to be on the other side of such a bluff, he supposed. He had always prided himself on his acting abilities, his innate way of lying to others. Yet, apparently, when it came to Sylvie… he puts his full emotions on display. He had become too overcome with emotions at the mere thought of Mobius telling the truth, that Sylvie was well and truly gone, and he had snapped. He was…

Yes… That was the word.

He was heartbroken.

‘You conniving, craven, pathetic worm. I hope you know you deserve to be alone and you always will be.’

‘Do you really think you deserve to be alone?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well then you better figure it out quick, because the Nexus Event the two of you caused, whatever that connection is, can bring this whole place down.’

Maybe, just maybe… Mobius was onto something there. Maybe Sif, even in that small, once insignificant memory buried in his mind, was wrong.

Maybe he didn’t deserve to be alone.

Maybe he didn’t have to be.

“Maybe…” The words get caught in his throat, spoken softer than he intended to. He involuntary finds himself leaning closer to Sylvie, to the warmth radiating from her, trapped within the blanket wrapped around them. “Maybe we could figure it out... together.”

He wanted Sylvie in his life.

He understood now.

He almost misses the slightest of reactions as Sylvie looks up to him - and what he knows is an earnest, vulnerable glaze in his eyes. It’s the smallest of things, almost impossible to see, but there’s a slight pull to the corner of her lips as she looks to him. Almost as if she was fighting back a smile at his proposition.

“Maybe,” She whispers back to him, just as quiet and tender as his own words. It’s not a yes, not in the way his frantically racing heart was hoping to hear, but it was a start. It was Sylvie’s own returning of a proposition, her own olive branch. The possibility he had given that she was extending right back to him.

Maybe.

Yes… Maybe they’d survive this. Maybe he and Sylvie would bring down the tyrant who oversees ‘the sacred timeline’. Maybe he’ll find Mobius again, alive and well, having turned the entirety of the TVA’s workforce against the organization they devoted their lives to, and burn it to the ground.

Maybe Sylvie will let him stay by her side.

Maybe, he’ll carve that new path in his life - with Sylvie’s intertwined with his.

Maybe he’ll find that new Glorious Purpose.

Maybe he won’t be alone.

Maybe he’ll be happy.

Maybe…

You know what? He was starting to like that word.

#sylki #pro sylki #sylki fanfic #sylki fanfiction #loki/sylvie

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waiting4inspiration · 4 years

Text

To be Evil III: Do you regret it?

Summary: You find the Tesseract but run into a few problems; the team. They’re not too much of a problem, but when one of your curses hits the wrong person, you can’t help but feel guilty.

Warnings: angst, strong language, fighting, magical elements, Infinity War (rewritten), hero to villain

Word Count: 2,548

To be Evil Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist

Groaning in frustration when you don’t find the Tesseract after looking over the room for the fifth time, you drop your hands and roll your eyes. Now that you remember that you are part of the Mind Stone, you thought that you could find the Space Stone with the same connection you felt with the Power Stone. But you can’t feel anything.

Not until someone walks into the room.

“Now, what do we have here?” Loki sings behind you, making you turn around and smile wickedly at him. “Looking for something that you hope will get the team to kick me off so you can have your place?” he questions, making you laugh and shift on your feet as you glance down at your hands.

Biting your lower lip, you look up at Loki through your lashes. “Oh no. I’m here on a mission,” you state, lifting your head in confidence as you take a step forward. “He wants the Tesseract, and I’m here to get it,” you mention, knowing that he will know who you’re talking about.

And as his smile falls, you chuckle and step forward again. “You’re working with Thanos,” he says, shaking his head as he laughs to himself. “You don’t seem like the kind of person to be a double agent. You seem too...sweet.”

Glaring coldly at him, you raise a hand and let your power push Loki against the wall. “I am not a double agent. I don’t want to be part of this team anymore, not when Thanos can give me everything I wanted,” you say, walking towards him as he tries to fight the control you have on him.

“Thanos is using you and you are blind to it-” Placing your hand on his forehead, you stop him from speaking and make his groan in frustration.

“The team gave me nothing. Thanos is offering me everything I deserve,” you start, taking a step closer as you let your powers fire up. You’re going to read his mind, look where he’s hiding the Tesseract. And confident that you will be rewarded for the success of your mission, your hands start to glow, as do your eyes.

Ever since you’ve given into your powers and let go of control, your eyes have taken on the same yellow glow your hands have when you think about using your curses. “And soon, this team will regret the day they chose you over me,” you sneer, pushing his head back against the wall as you close your eyes to concentrate.

Loki takes a deep breath, tries to fight your powers and your efforts to read his mind. This is the first time someone is attempting to do this and he wonders if your powers are really that strong or if his are just that weak. And no matter how hard he tries to hold back, he gives in and reveals the location of the Tesseract.

But, he won’t walk away with nothing. Seeing an opportunity when you realize where the Tesseract is, he looks into your own mind to try and figure out what made you decide to team up with someone like Thanos.

You feel Loki reading your mind and seeing the memory of you bursting into life from the Scepter that was given to him by Thanos when he invaded New York. And it’s enough for him to know everything.

Pushing yourself away from him, you gasp and glare at him. “You’re part of the Mind Stone,” he whispers, both of you panting slightly from the mind-reading experience.

Laughing at him, you turn your head to your hand and you hold it up. Loki looks at your hand as you conjure up that which he has been hiding; the Tesseract. It shows up from the bottom up, out of thin air, before settling in your hands, making you smile proudly at yourself.

Loki moves to take a step forward so he can try and take it from you, but you catch him and wave your hand. “Stay,” you whisper, using a curse that freezes him in his spot. It makes his groan in frustration and you chuckle.

You turn your head back to the blue cube, your hum turning into a chuckle as you make it disappear again, in a place you know this time, and look at Loki again. “I am the Mind Stone. And there is nothing, not you, or the team can do to stop him from getting what I want,” you laugh, and it's such an evil laugh, Loki’s almost impressed.

Turning around, you walk away with a spring in your step and a sway in your hips. Loki smirks to himself. Seeing you, the person that tried to fight for a place on this team when he was announced as the new member being an enemy reminds him of the time when he went against Thor and this exact team.

But he knows what Thanos is really trying to accomplish. The question is, do you?

Walking down the hall with a bright smile on your face, like the one you would have when you had completed a mission for the team, you feel good. You feel free, like you don’t have a care in the world.

You’ve never walked like this through the hallways of the compound. You’re basically skipping. You just can’t wait to hand the Tesseract to Thanos and be applauded for your work. He’ll praise you for doing this mission by yourself and you’ll finally get the recognition you’ve been dreaming of getting.

When you come to the main entrance, you see Loki standing in front of the door. It doesn’t make your smile fade, because you know that he won’t stop you. “Do you really think I would just let you walk away with an Infinity Stone?” he asks cockily, stepping forward and being joined by Thor who holds his hammer tightly in his hand.

Behind you, you hear footsteps and glance over your shoulder to see Natasha and Clint cut off a retreating escape. “Give up the Tesseract, (Y/n),” Thor speaks as he and Loki walk towards you, slowly.

Steve and Bucky show up to your right and Tony and Wanda to your left. And all you can think of is what a pity it is that Bruce didn’t come too. Maybe you could have used the Hulk to your advantage. Why you’re thinking about that, you have no idea. “I’m not giving up anything, Thor,” you sternly say, walking into the center of the circle the team makes around you.

“We know you’re working with Thanos,” Steve mentions, making your head turn towards him, giving him an unbothered look.

You catch the disappointed look on Bucky’s face, stare at him for a second before turning around to look at Tony who has started to walk closer to you. You didn’t want to look at Bucky for any longer, scared that it might convince you that you’re doing the wrong thing. “If you’re trying to prove a point to us-”

“This isn’t about proving anything, Tony,” you snap, turning around completely to face him, glaring coldly at him with narrow eyes that make him freeze in his tracks. “I don’t have to prove myself to you. I am tired of trying to prove to you that I can handle anything,” you spit, your anger initiating your powers and making your eyes glow yellow again.

Seeing this makes him tense and he glances down to Wanda at his side. You know what that look means. “You’re losing control,” Natasha speaks when she notices the glow in your eyes and that around your hands.

Her words make you laugh, and your laugh makes a shiver run down the entire team’s spine. You shake your head as you breathe out a sigh, smiling as you look down at your hands. “No. I’m embracing what all of you tried to get me to push down,” you correct, looking back up at her with a tilt in your head. “I thought it was just an insult when Tony said I was dangerous, but-”

You pause, run your tongue over your lips and then send a power surge so great through the room that it makes everything, even Thor, fall to the ground in crippling pain. It has to be your favorite curse to use on your opponents. You just thought you’d never use it on the team.

“Turns out he was right. I am dangerous,” you finish, wickedly smirking down at Tony when he looks up at you. “Tell me, Tony, do you regret not giving me a place on this team now that you’ve seen what I’ve become?” you question, kneeling down and resting your arms on your knees as you stare down at him, still concentrating on keeping everyone else down with your mind powers.

Tony groans as he tries to push himself up, lifts his head to look at you and shakes his head in disappointment. “Is that what you want? Just to be made a member of the team?” he asks back, making you laugh and stand to your feet.

“No. Not anymore,” you reply, rolling your shoulders as you breathe out a breath and look to the door. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me. I have to be going.”

Before you can even step forward, the door locks. You can hear the heavy blot shift before the shutters even fall. And you know exactly who is responsible for this. Turning around, you see that Wanda has somehow worked herself free of your mental hold and now stands with her hands glowing her significant red color.

You take a step towards her as you breathe out a sigh. “You don’t want to do this, Wanda,” you warn, your eyes glancing down to her hands as she brings them forward, crossing her wrists over each other as she takes a step forward.

“Let them go,” she orders, her eyes glancing down to the grounded team. With a wave of your hands, you lift the yellow haze that keeps them down, lifting the curse you’ve placed on them and smile at Wanda.

Pumping your eyebrows as you take a step forward. “I did warn you not to do this,” you remind, holding your hands out beside you and creating a kinetic energy barrier around her and slowly forcing it smaller and smaller.

She tries to fight it, tries to find a way out of your hold, but when you sense the team recovering from what you had done to them and starting to move to defend Wanda, you force the energy down onto her, knocking her unconscious. She was your biggest threat. But with the Space Stone in your possession, she was no match to you. Not when you gave in to your powers.

Turning around to face the team as Clint rushes over to make sure Wanda’s alright, you sigh as you come to the realization that you won’t be able to fight all of them at once. “I think I’m gonna need some help. Steve, be a doll and help,” you order, throwing a mind-controlling curse at him so he will obey your command and help you fight the team.

But, he lifts his shield and deflects the curse making it hit someone else. Bucky.

You gasp lightly as he stumbles back and shuts his eyes. He’s fighting with his own mind, that you can clearly see. And when he opens his eyes, your heart stops when you see how emotionless they are.

“What have you done to him?” Natasha questions, obviously startled by the look on Bucky’s face as if she’s seen that look before.

When Steve reaches out to touch Bucky’s shoulder, he reaches for his wrist and pushes him to the ground. And suddenly, you’re not the problem anymore. Not when Bucky starts to try and punch Steve to death.

It was a mistake and you feel terrible for doing this. But with the attention now off you and the Space Stone in your possession, you can leave. You can use the Stone’s power to create a portal to get back to Thanos. And that’s exactly what you do.

When Tony sees you’re gone, he thinks that whatever you have done to Bucky will stop. Turning to find the team trying to restrain him, he knows now why that didn’t happen. Whatever you have done has triggered the Winter Soldier programming in Bucky’s mind, something that was reassured by the Wakandan scientist, Shuri, was gone.

You’re more powerful than any of them thought.

You thought that you were making your own path and that you wouldn’t have to worry about anything. That you wouldn’t have to feel guilty about what you had done. But you can’t stop thinking about what you had done to Bucky. You feel...awful.

Staring out a window of the spaceship you’ve transported yourself to, you sigh to yourself and try to gather up the strength to go and deliver the Tesseract to Thanos, get what you deserve; your praise. So, why are you stuck staring out into space? Literally.

Catching the reflection of your new superior in the glass, you quickly snap around to face him. “Something did not go according to plan,” he speaks, walking towards you with small steps.

You sigh, turn your gaze back to the window and shake your head. “I..hurt someone I didn’t mean to hurt,” you confess, biting the inside of your cheek as you fight the guilt building inside you. “Someone who cared about me more than anyone on the team ever did. Someone who was there for me when I felt alone.”

Thanos stands beside you, stays silent for a moment before he takes a breath. You look at him through his reflection, waiting for him to impart some kind of wisdom that will make you feel like becoming...whatever you’ve become wasn’t a mistake. “You have remarkable power and talent that they could not see. But I have seen that,” he starts, making you turn your head up to him to listen more intently. “I have given you a place where your success will not be ignored. And if you had hurt someone that stood in your way, it will not be punished,” he adds.

It’s so different from what it was like when you were a ‘hero’. Even though you weren’t officially part of the team, when you were on a mission, you had to try and limit the number of casualties. But here, no one seems to care about that.

Turning your gaze down to your hand as you lift it, you conjure the Tesseract so you can hold it in your hand, making the Titan warlord smile brightly as you turn to hand it to him. “I knew I wouldn’t be disappointed in you,” he states, making your heart beam with content at the praise as he takes the cube from you.

You watch as he crushes the Tesseract in his hand so he may get to the Infinity Stone inside. And as he places the blue stone in its slot, you feel the connection with it and the Power Stone grows stronger. “What’s next?” you ask, eager for your next mission.

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alwida10 · 3 years

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The tragedy of Loki of Asgard

Or why I think the Infinity War Loki should stay dead.

TW: suicide, depression, narcissistic behavior

To understand this essay you need some basic understanding of the family dynamic in Odins family. The dynamic is one of a narcistic parent who has a golden child he projects his own awesomeness onto and a scapegoat child . The parent ensures himself the support of the golden child and makes himself the very center of attention, which is what a narcisst tribes for. The golden child longs to remain golden child and refrains from criticism of the parent. The scapegoat child strives to finally get out of the scapegoat position by pleasing the parent. To bad the child can’t do so because it gets not the blame because it did something wrong but because there must always be someone to blame. Therefore possible explanations and things the parent presented as desirable aren’t really that. Now, a golden child sooner or later gets used to blame everything on the scapegoat. It might even learn to control the scapegoat by blaming him the same way the parent did (aka the scapegoat longs for positive attention/affirmation and therefore does everything the golden child wants him to).

Now, in Thor Ragnarok Odin says ‘I love you my sons’ before he dies, placing the two of them more or less on equal positions for the first time ever. (I know there can be good arguments made, but just let’s assume it’s possition zero they start at.)

Pretty soon both end up on Sakarr, Thor in prison, Loki in the Grandmasters favors. Loki visits Thor in prison, suggesting teaming up, even though it endangers his position (the Grandmaster could hear about it, Thor would probably claim the higher position etc.) At that moment Thor doesn’t have anything to offer. Yet, he stonewalls, blaming Loki for all bad that happened. (For a much more detailed spot -on analysis please read this post where @i-dreamed-i-had-a-son even correctly predicted Loki’s death).

The whole dynamic in the prison is Thor falling back into the old family dynamic. Only that Odin is dead now, and the position of the prime narcisst is open. Now, narcissm is often correlated with abusive behavior, as written in ‘why does he do that? - inside they mind of angry and controlling men’ by Lundy Bancroft. In another post I found many of the things she describes can be observed in Thor’s actions in Thor Ragnarok.

But let’s get finally come to the elevator scene which is the heart piece of my explanation. Remember – Loki is at this point starved for any affirmation or positive reaction by his family. After Thor rejected Loki’s plan, he accepted Loki joining his plan. Thor lures Loki by claiming they should talk right before they enter the elevator. For a starving person this is huge temptation. But Loki did live with his family for eons and is certainly aware of it being a trap.

Right from his first appearance in Thor 1 (before the coronation) we learn that Loki never lowers his guard when it comes to admitting feelings. In that scene he said he loved Thor but directly glossed it over with a joke. After all what happened in Thor 1, Avengers and TDW Loki would never let himself appear weak by outright asking if Thor does still hold any positive feelings mg a for him. So he uses reverse psychology (claiming something against your own wishes, hoping the other disagrees and thereby affirms you.)

LOKI: Here's the thing. I'm probably better off staying here on Sakaar.

The problem with reverse psychology is when the other person agrees with it, it hits you right where it hurts the most.

THOR: That's exactly what I was thinking.

LOKI: ...Did you just agree with me?

THOR: This place is perfect for you. It's savage, chaotic, lawless. Brother,you're going to do GREAT here.

Thor follows up by insulting Loki and pushing him away hard. Why? Because he knows Loki has nobody else to turn to. Even after TDW Loki returned to Asgard. For one part because he’s still loyal but certainly also for the lack of alternatives. And Asgard will always include Thor. Thor knows Loki won’t be able to leave him.

LOKI: Do you truly think so little of me?

Loki is hurt, obviously and it’s very much visible on his face. To make sure no blame can be laid open him, Thor uses gaslighting.

THOR: Loki, I thought the world of you. I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever. But, at the end of the day, you're you, I'm me… I don't know, maybe there's still good in you, but let's be honest, our paths diverged a long time ago.

Loki is wounded by Thor's willingness to discard him. But he masks his feelings.

LOKI: It's probably for the best that we never see one another again.

Thor pats Loki on the shoulder, placing the obidience disk. And this action proves that the manipulation on Thor’s part was intentional. Why else would he have done it? (Everyone claiming ‘Loki betrayed Thor endless times, please read this meta). Thor knew that by pushing Loki away hard enough he would trigger a desperate act of reactive aggression. He did so to push Loki back into his place (which is beneath him, as far Thor is concerned). As soon that has happened Thor gives his little self righteous speech.

THOR: Oh brother, you're becoming predictable. I trust you, you betray me. Round and round in circles we go. See, Loki, life is about, it's about growth. It's about change.But you seem to just wanna stay the same. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you'll always be the God of Mischief, but you could be more.

Briefly summarized:

you suck, and I don’t think you’ll ever be worth my affection. If you want to try tho, here is your option.

Of course, to prove Thor wrong Loki is forced to resume his subservant position he had at the beginning of Thor 1. He can only ‘prove his worth’ by doing Thor’s bidding and supporting his plans. And that he does. He convinces kork and his crew to join him and brings them to Asgard where he receives his reward by Thor acknowledging him in a not-aggressive way. He even fulfills Thor’s plan, knowing that henceforth he will be blamed whenever someone remembers Asgard’s destruction. In Thor’s ‘coronation scene’ Loki stands at the side, behind the Valkyrie (yet, still at the right side. That surprised me, tbh. The ‘right hand of the King’ is a prestigious title and I didn’t believe TW would have allowed Loki that. But he’s still only second on Thor’s right.)

Anyway, Loki is back in the position he had in Thor 1 with a lot of added baggage and no Frigga to rant to when everything gets to bad. And then Thanos appears. Under Thanos Loki would suffer even more than under Thor (remember the Other’s ‘no barren moon..’ speach.) So basically he’s caught between two horrible fates.

Loki’s death scene itself has been criticized a lot and everyone knows the butterknive-discourse. It can only interpreted in two ways: either him being stupid or him being suicidal. Based on all written above and the fact that he already tried to commit suicide at the end of Thor 1, I can only believe the second to be true.

It has another point: Tom said Loki’s arc was finished. I was confused and unhappy about this statement, but now I am coming to piece with it. Tom loves Shakespeare, including Hamlet and Coriolanus. Those are tragedies. Tragedies are characterized by the protagonist being ruined because of a dramatic conflict that leaves him only two choices, one being death and one being worse. So perhaps this is his very own version of the tragedy of Loki of Asgard.

#Loki meta #long post #meins #MCU loki #anti thor ragnarok #anti taika waititi

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vislorrturlough · 3 years

Text

Scaramouche!

"Of course, this assumption of responsibility does not mean that we are not conditioned genetically, culturally, and socially. It means that we know ourselves to be conditioned but not determined. It means recognizing that History is time filled with possibility and not inexorably determined-that the future is problematic and not already decided, fatalistically."

- Paulo Friere

For as long as Loki can remember, tapestries have lined the walls of Asgard's palace.

When Loki was a child, the Allmother sat by his bed one night and explained the significance of the tapestries that lined the walls of their home.

“The Norns weave the tapestry that assigns our roles,” she told him. “So that we may fulfill our fate and serve Midgard as we are meant to.”

The tapestries stretched across all the walls of the palace, covering vast miles of golden wall with breathtaking imagery depicting life and death and love and hate and everything in between. They pictured Loki too, who moved from boy to tragedy to a vicious and cruel man.

“So I have a role too? And Thor?” he asked. She smiled at him with fondness. The Thor on the tapestries seemed brave and strong - Loki could never imagine his brother, still a boy himself, to become that hulk of a man someday.

“Of course, Loki,” she said. “We all have roles. I am a mother, and a magician. Thor will be a great hero. Your father, a beloved and wise king. This is what is sewn into our destiny, to be enacted until Ragnarok and again after that. In a cycle, unending and unwavering.”

He yawned, obscuring the nervousness bubbling in his chest and curling the silken covers around his shoulders. He knew what the tapestries said Loki would do. He had hoped that maybe - “What’s my fate, mother?” he asked quietly.

Her smile, previously relaxed, became firm and serious. His heart was racing, thinking of that man, and of the awful cruelty that was depicted to come at his hands. “We all have a part to play, my dear. And every story has a villain for a reason.”

Despite common misconception, Loki Laufeyson never lived in the moment. In fact, Loki found the moment particularly difficult to pin down. Once you begin to think “Hey, I think this is the moment!” it wasn’t the moment anymore, and Loki already had four tabs open on his phone about the relativity of time and he didn’t need anymore.

Loki lived in the future, which was why he was that very moment getting his fair share of serotonin from the Schrödinger’s Night Out with Sigurd and Lorelei he was planning.

“Sigurd definitely won’t come out if Lorelei isn’t,” he explained to Verity as he paced hurriedly around their absurdly fancy flat, which he paid for entirely and in return, Verity didn’t ask where he got all the money. “Which means I need Lorelei to agree first. One problem with that!”

“Lorelei hates you?” Verity asked, as she planted an orange tree in Stardew Valley.

“Lorelei hates me!” Loki agreed. “Which means I need to sweeten the pot.”

Verity glanced up at him suspiciously. “How are you going to do that?”

He grinned, and picked up a pen so he could start dramatically gesticulating. “Bisexual women! They’re always fascinated with me. And by the end of the evening, I’ll have established a system where I transport their attention from me to Lorelei and get her many dates. Like a Ford factory.”

She glared, turned back to her game. “You’re a walking hate crime.”

“Was that a lie, Verity?” he teased, collapsing on the couch and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She tried just barely to shrug him off. “Was it a lie when I said bi women are fascinated with me? Was it?”

Verity narrowed her eyes at him, but didn’t say anything, and in response he burst into cackles of laughter.

—

Lorelei claimed to be very insulted that Loki thought bisexual women liked him more than her, but he knew well that she knew well that she looked like the straightest girl alive and really, that was her own fault. Once Lorelei was a confirmed booking, Sigurd swiftly followed, because he’s nothing if not a simp, and thus Loki had now established the perfect evening. A pricey club, two people who could barely stand him, and himself.

Although he never really enjoyed it. He’d never planned to.

Anticipation was a drug, really. And as previously established, the moment was very boring indeed. And this moment, Loki found himself crammed against Sigurd, who while very attractive and an owner of some very firm abs, was covered in sweat, and only slept with Loki when he was desperate anyway. Loki squinted up at him, and tried to figure out if he was desperate tonight.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Sigurd shouted over the music.

Loki smiled at him genially, and proceeded to turn quickly around and elbow his way to the smoking area.

The initial smack of fresh onto his face was divine. He closed his eyes and smiled in satisfaction, continuing to move forward. The music was more muted out here, and the sound of voices and laughter blurred into itself until nothing was anything anymore. Peace! The lights were all different shades of pink and green, and they cast an ethereal glow over the throngs of young people with cigarettes in their hands, all here, all living now.

Loki bumped into someone.

“Shit!” he yelped, watching in horror as her cocktail spilt down her crop top. “I’m so sorry! Oh my God!”

She’d flinched a bit during the incident itself, but the alcohol had seemingly tempered any stronger reaction than that. Lightly brushing at her (now soaked) top, she only laughed lightly and smiled at him. “No worries, dude!”

He pulled out his best prince charming grin (practiced in the mirror and finely tuned). “Please, let me at least buy you another drink.”

“I’m not going to say no to a drink!” she laughed shyly, and they traipsed inside to the bar. Sigurd seemed to have vanished, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Lorelei getting very close to the DJ, so maybe if Loki had any luck he was crying in the gents or something. Usual affair, really.

He bought them both mojitos, and they fought their way back through the crowd to return to the smoking area. “I like your necklace,” he said, because his mother had always said women liked having their jewelry complimented. Sif had later said that they didn’t, but Sif was as much a woman as Loki was a man, so her opinion didn’t count.

The girl giggled. “Thanks, it’s a crucifix.”

“Oh sorry!” Loki said. “I’m not from around here. That’s the catholic thing right?”

“Do you guys not have catholicism in Britain?”

Ugh, mentioning Asgard would dance a bit too close to the possibility of ‘Oh man, anyone ever told you you look like Thor’s evil brother?’. Loki chuckled instead and rolled his eyes. “I was pretty sheltered. It was like, a weird cult?”

“Oh wow! That’s so interesting.” She had a sympathetic sort of look on her face, and Loki quickly buried the irritation that bubbled up in his chest. The sympathy wasn’t for Loki anyway, just some fake man who grew up in a cult. Did he think Asgard was a cult? God, he was glad he didn’t have a therapist

“Yeah, I don’t really believe in it now, you know?” he lied easily, smiling at her. “It’s hard to have faith when it’s like, you never see any proof.”

She nodded understandingly. “Yeah, lots of people say that nowadays, what with superheroes and Asgard and all. I don’t know, I kind of think the fact I don’t have proof makes it more important.”

“Oh yes?” Loki asked. “What do you mean by that?”

She looked up at the lights, placed her free hand on the crook of the elbow of the hand holding her drink. For a second, Loki saw ancient and revered philosophers! He decided that they’d had it all wrong. Screw the forums, they should’ve done all their philosophising in smoking areas.

“It means something, you know?” she explained slowly. “Like, of course we believe in the ground and the sky and all. Those are right in front of us, we can’t deny that. Same with science, or aliens, or Asgardians. But believing in God requires a certain kind of faith. I’m going beyond seeing and believing. I’m just believing. God has a plan for me, and I believe in that.”

Loki nodded slowly. A fate? One set, but controlled by a benevolent creature and entirely unknown? It wasn’t true or real of course, but there was a beauty to it, that Loki, who’s path was clear and determined, appreciated. The alcohol (he and Lorelei made a habit of spiking drinks they bought on earth with Asgardian liqueur, so they’d, you know, work) was beginning to blur his awareness anyway. “That’s beautiful,” he said kindly.

She giggled, quickly touching her necklace and looking at the ground. “Haha, sorry! I study theology, it’s kind of a thing.”

“No, no!” Loki laughed, giving her a wide grin. “It was very interesting! Where do you study?”

They got into a long conversation about Sarah’s (her name, Loki found out eventually) degree, NYU dorms and a guy she hated in her seminars, before he noticed Lorelei making a beeline towards him, her hand around Sigurd’s wrist.

“Hey,” she said, before frowning at him and glancing at Sarah. “I’m going home with a girl named Angelica. She’s goth and plays bass. So you need to take Sig home.”

“I’m literally an ancient hero. Of legend,” Sigurd interjected.

Lorelei turned and glared at him instead. “Well, you need to take Loki home.”

“Oh well, come on then Sig!” Loki said loudly, ignoring his scowl. “Thank you for such a lovely conversation, Sarah darling. Have a nice night!”

“Thanks Luke!” she laughed, not being not obvious about checking Sigurd out. Oh God, she probably thought he was dating Loki. Yuck, how mortifying. “See you around!”

“Go get a taxi,” Lorelei told him, before wandering off to a girl with a septum piercing and docs, which Loki considered quite basic, especially for Lorelei.

They didn’t get a taxi. They walked five minutes until Loki ducked around a corner, ignored Sigurd saying “Aren’t we getting a taxi?” and grabbed his arm before dragging him through the spaces in between the universe and dropping him on the bean bag in his living room. A solitary pringles can rolled quietly and hit Loki’s foot.

“Ugh, you’re disgusting,” Loki muttered, kicking it away.

“I hate you,” Sigurd growled, pinching his nose and clearly trying not to throw up. Loki didn’t know why, it wouldn’t be any major downgrade from how the room was currently. “And I hate that. You’re such a fucking prick Loki.”

Time to make his exit before Sigurd regained enough strength to cause him bodily harm. “Bye honey!” he trilled, and Sigurd’s growl was cut off as he made his way to his own apartment. He didn’t wake up Verity, she had work tomorrow, so he just kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed, surrendering to unconsciousness.

Verity and Loki had moved in together for two reasons.

1) Loki spent most of his time at Verity’s. He had a separate shelf in her fridge for his energy drinks and his salsa, and a special place at the bottom of her spice cupboard for his snacks. He told Verity she had full ownership over all the snacks and could have them when he’d left, but she never did. Instead she got the little clip things she used and pinched the bags closed carefully, putting them to the side for the next time he came over. It was thoughtful, and Loki didn’t know what to do with it, so he never mentioned it. He got bored quite easily anyway, and most of his ‘friends’ had a very limited tolerance of him, so most days he found himself on Verity’s couch, playing Uno and eating Oreos.

2) Verity’s flat was bad and small and Loki’s was perfect and expensive, and if he spent all his time with Verity, they may as well hang out in his sketchily acquired penthouse. Plus, paying her rent made him feel useful. It was like a payment for all the little clips on his packets of Doritos.

He didn’t regret it. Except he thought that perhaps he might be as close as he could get to regretting it as he lay in bed listening to her pounding viciously at his door.

“Are you alive?” she yelled through the mahogany. He groaned just loudly enough to be heard, and she banged one more time for good measure before her footsteps quickly petered off towards the kitchen.

He sighed in frustration, rolling off his bed with just enough basic athletic ability to land on his feet. His vision blacked out for just a second, and his head very much rejected the idea of being on his feet. Had he shifted through space while drunk? That was so dangerous. He should have gotten like, a driving ticket. A magic driving ticket.

He stumbled into the kitchen and stared blearily at Verity. “What are you cooking?” he mumbled.

“Eggs,” she replied without turning. “Want some?”

“Hmm.” He stares at the clock. One in the afternoon? That wasn’t too bad. Verity must have just gotten in from work though, which made him feel bad. Oh, how he missed the days when he had no shame and also no friends. “No thanks, I don’t want to throw up.”

“I thought alcohol didn’t affect you?”

“Human alcohol doesn’t.” He sat down on one of the tall swivel chairs at their counter and spun around. Ow, oh fuck, that wasn’t a good idea. He grimaced and placed his pounding head in his hands. “Lorelei and I spiked our drinks with something we got from Asgard.”

“Huh.” Verity sat opposite him, eggs piled onto the plate she set down in front of her. She’d cooked the yokes, the heathen. “Did you have a good time?”

Loki stared at her. “I feel like I’m being interrogated by my mother.”

“Oh honey,” she teased, grinning through a mouthful of eggs. “Oh sweetie. Wear protection!”

Loki dramatically re-enacted retching, and she choked on her eggs. A just punishment for her crimes, he thought.

“Ew,” he moaned. “I had to see Sigurd’s flat last night. It was disgusting.”

“I wasn’t being serious?” she stared at him. “I didn’t know you actually slept with-”

“Ew, ew, no,” he interrupted. “I was just detailing how he’s far too disgusting to ever consider as a sexual object. I would probably sleep with Lorelei though.”

“As if she’d sleep with you.”

“I’m forever alone!” he cried “Like the meme!”

“If you think referencing memes from 2008 is going to help you get laid-” she got up, pulled the dishwasher open and put her plate in without washing it off. Awful dishwasher etiquette, and Loki was from a place where they washed dishes with magic, so she had no excuse. “-then I think you might be beyond help.”

“I’m waiting for the right person,” he mumbled, squinting in the light streaming in from their egregiously large windows. “Like America. I ship America and myself.”

“America’s a lesbian,” Verity said.

“I’m a woman sometimes!” He got up and opened the fridge. “It’d be perfectly possible if she could tolerate me.”

“Which she can’t.”

“Yeah,” Loki said in faux-disappointment. “Ergo, forever alone, I’m mister lonely, involuntarily celibate, and sent to the friendzone.”

He shut the fridge, no bacon in sight, and stared at the front of it trying to consider his next move. He could head down to the store, but also he couldn’t, because he couldn’t imagine bringing himself to put on something other than the shorts he was currently in that said ‘BAD WITCH’ in bright green, metallic lettering on the back (a gift from Kate) and also he was pretty certain a drink had been poured on him the night before, judging by the smell of lager and the way his fringe had congealed into a hard point overnight. He wasn’t in any fit state to walk down the street. He had standards to maintain.

Yes, he was an illusionist, but he was a hungover illusionist with a headache, thus he opened up DoorDash and ordered McDonald’s.

“Vee?” he called down the hall. “Do you want anything from McDonald’s?”

“Ew,” she called back. “No.”

He placed his order and looked back up at the fridge. They had a shared calendar printed out on that kind of slippy photo paper so they could use whiteboard markers on it and make sure to not double book having people over. Last time it had happened, Verity’s cousin had to top-and-tail with Thor on the couch, which was a weird experience for everyone, but mostly for Daniel. Currently, the calendar was pretty sparse, since it was early April, but Verity had written something in for Sunday. ‘Easter - Mom’s House’.

He stared at it, confused. He didn’t turn when he heard Verity’s feet pattering back into the kitchen. “Hey, I didn’t know you were religious.”

“Huh?” Verity had flopped onto the couch and was fiddling with the remote control, probably trying to turn on Dr Phil. “Not really, what do you mean?”

“You’re going to your Mum’s for Easter?”

“Oh I guess.” The Judge Judy theme song streamed from the TV. Loki stood corrected. “I don’t believe in it or anything. It’s just tradition.”

“Huh.” He glanced out onto the street. It was lively. They were in pretty central Manhattan, and usually when you looked onto the road it was hard to see a part of the path that wasn’t covered in black throngs of city goers. He sometimes wondered where they were going, had they plans, or were they just wandering, aimless and free? Loki had always thought it would be night to wander off and see where his feet would take him if he didn’t walk with direction or intention. “Had an interesting conversation last night.”

“Yeah?” Verity responded mindlessly, staring at the TV.

“About religion. With a girl in the smoking area.”

“Dude.” Verity leaned over, effortlessly butch. “Conversations about religion in a smoking area? I’m putting my foot down. Either you download Grindr or find a therapist.”

“Both of those options are severely limited by the fact that I am a divine being and a world renowned criminal,” he replied. “Do you think guys on Grindr are into my evil vibes, actually?”

“Guys on Grindr are definitely into your evil vibes.”

“Thanks Verity,” he said, turning and heading towards the door. “You always have my back. Maybe I’ll find a bae after all.”

He grinned at her sounds of indignation and headed to his room to sleep his headache away.

Loki had always been rather a superior child. He had no need for childish matters of ‘bravery’ and ‘heroics’, instead favouring his intellect and insight. His mother said he was a bright young man, thank you. So he cared little about Thor informing him he was too small and weak to spar with him and his friends. However, he had in return let Thor know that he would be instead spending some time with his very close friends, who Thor did not have an acquaintance with and who thought Loki was very cool and interesting indeed. Thus, appearances had to be upheld.

He peered around the corner of the great, awning entrance to the Bifröst control room. Lord Heimdall had his back turned, but Loki was not a fool. A child, but not a fool.

“Your Highness,” the Watcher called out, turning to face him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He inched forward, the tips of his fingers trailing the chilly gold-plated walls of the gate. “I was bored,” he lied.

“Very well.” Heimdall set down the Key and sat heavily down onto its platform. “Would you be able to keep me company during my break?”

Loki lifted his chin, glanced around himself and headed to sit beside him. “I suppose I can grace you with my presence, for some time at least.”

“Have you a full schedule, your Highness?”

Anger and indignation built in his chest. Loki whipped around and scowled at him. “I’m very busy.”

Heimdall’s playful expression sunk with practiced ease into something serious. “My apologies. Of course you are, my prince.”

Loki crossed his arms. He knew that Lord Heimdall knew all his business, all of everyone’s business, but it struck him like a spear to his chest to have been mocked over his… lack of desirability. How dare he? Loki may be a boy, but he was his prince. It was not Heimdall’s place to mock him.

He struggled to think of something dignified to reply, and the pressure of the silence between them built into a garotte that tightened around his neck. He daren’t look at Heimdall, imagining a mocking grin staring down at him. It was unlikely, and would be utterly out of place on the man’s face, but Loki would rather avoid the possibility altogether.

“How is your brother, your Highness?” Heimdall said to break the silence.

In a fit of rage, Loki slammed his palm against the platform. His eyes watered with the pain of it. “Why does everyone only care about what Thor is doing? How Thor is? I am not a vessel through which people may be updated about my brother’s status!”

In his anger he’d turned to glare at Heimdall, and was horrified to find the man’s face transformed by pity. Loki scowled in disgust, and stared at the wall in the opposite direction.

“I did not mean to imply anything as such, your Highness,” Heimdall explained carefully. “I merely asked out of having nothing else very interesting to say. Perhaps I should have asked how you are?”

Loki hesitated, glanced back up. “I’m well,” he mumbled shortly.

“That’s good to hear,” Heimdall replied, staring ahead, out the gates and down the Bifröst. Loki wondered if he saw that which lay in front of him with more clarity, or if what his tangible eyes caught was nothing different to everything else he saw. “Is there anything in particular you would like to speak about?”

Loki was silent for a moment. A topic had been weighing on his mind, one he hesitated to bring to his mother. A heavy topic indeed. “Heimdall?” he asked. “Why am I destined to be a monster?”

It had been a burden to bear, acknowledging what was written upon the tapestries spun deep in Nornheim. When mother had first told him of his destiny years ago, it had seemed like a childhood game, but everyday the gravity of his situation held him just a little firmer to the ground. All has its place, his mother had told him, and your place is important. It is against you that others will shine.

It coloured everything he did, and how others treated him. Thor still loved him as a brother, but everyday his pride in his own journey grew and Loki could only stand and watch as he looked on his brother with a little more suspicion, held him at a slightly further distance. Loki’s cruelty had been encouraged, not in a direct way, but in the ways in which his parents and carers were cruel towards him. Like a knife being sharpened.

Heimdall did not move. “Everything has its duty. Our world is not much but an elaborate play, and we act according to our roles so that the other realms may live in our image.”

“But why me?” Loki pressed. “Why can’t I be the hero?”

Neither mentioned what lay between them. A man and a child and a destiny for two corpses, having slain one another, to lie in the middle of their world as it burned.

“I’m sorry, my prince,” Heimdall said quietly. “Perhaps take some relief in the fact that you needn’t worry over who you will be. The Midgardians in particular struggle with virtue.”

“Really?” Loki muttered, head in his hands. “Isn’t it very freeing for them?”

“Not as such,” he replied. “In return for their agency, they are burdened with the duty to be ever kind and charitable to one another, or be damned for their failure to do so. It's simpler for us. Our fate is predetermined, and while you may be the villain, you are doing your duty as such and can rest easy knowing that it is a moral and just thing for you to be.”

Loki was silent for a second, staring morosely ahead. “But I don’t want to be the villain.”

“I’m sorry, Prince Loki,” Heimdall replied, resting a hand on his shoulder. “But the tapestries have already been spun.”

The Allmothers, in their omnipowetful ability to be incredibly annoying, always called him when he was in the middle of doing things. In this case, a lovely girl named Amelia who had told him he looked like Timotheé Chalamet.

She screamed, causing Loki to whip around with a curse only to find Gaia staring at him through his mirror, disgust on her face and her right eye covered by Loki’s Blondie postcard that Verity had bought him from some emo shop.

Gritting his teeth, he looked down at Amelia, who seemed to be sinking into some form of shock. “Oh man,” he said. “I’m so fucking sorry. Uh, I kind of have to take this. Another time maybe?”

She looked up at him in speechless horror before turning quickly and climbing out from under him. Before he could even look up at her he heard the slam of the door. He glanced up. Huh, at least she’d taken her shirt with her. Loki was a feminist after all.

With a sigh, he turned to face Gaia. “My Lady!” He greeted with gritted teeth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She held his gaze for a few awkward seconds.

“Okay,” he said. “I would say, if anything it’s your fault that you decided to just turn up in my mirror without any prior warning. Really? You can’t expect me to be celibate. I’m Loki.”

She graced him with a performatively regal sigh and a significantly less regal eye roll. “The Allmothers have a task for you to complete, Loki.”

“Don’t you always?” He grumbled, pulling a hoodie on to cover up some of his nudity. Amelia may have only lost a shirt, but Loki was already down to his boxers. He was a feminist, after all.

“There is a great treasure in the belonging of one of our own, one who dwells in the realm of Midgard.”

“In English?”

The Allmother paused. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Your first language is the tongue of Jötunheim.”

“It’s just a-, it’s just a phrase, okay? Anyway, can you get to the crux of it? I was busy.”

“You aren’t busy anymore.”

He threw his arms out dramatically, making sure his irritation was painted clear on his face. “Thanks for that, by the way!”

“We would like-,” she continued, gathering her composure. “-for you to retrieve the ancient sword, Gram. It’s power is too great for us to allow it to remain out of our grasp. We have waited too long already, and time is of the essence.”

“Gram?” Loki asked. “You mean Sigurd’s sword?”

“The legendary sword Gram does indeed lie in the hands of the hero Sigurd-”

“But Sig loves his sword,” he interrupted. “He’s going to hate me if I take it for you. That’s narc behaviour.”

“This is your duty, Prince Loki, to your people,” Gaia said sternly. “You are, and have always been, a narc.”

“Hey, fuck you-”

She was gone in the next second, and Loki was left staring at his face in the mirror, and the way the skin underneath his eyes was grey and sunken, which made his eyes pop in a sort of consumption-chic. He looked a bit like Maleficent, he thought in an attempt to distract himself from the dread of the task that now lay before him and the inevitable broken friendship (he didn’t have many to break left).

But without all the milf energy. Loki didn’t have any milf energy, which was probably the source of most of his problems

Often, Loki found the easiest way to avoid all of his issues was to pretend he was a funny, quirky little guy living a funny, quirky little life. Oh Loki, he’s the token evil teammate, the funny comic relief in stories about other people, relegated to side character (but hot enough that all the fan art and fic was going to centre him). This allowed him to get away with his faults, which were many and numerous, by playing them off as the work of that darned scamp, Loki. This situation however, was one that worried Loki, as Sigurd was nothing if he wasn’t two things; 1) absolutely unenamoured by Loki and everything Loki had going for himself, and 2) in love with that fucking sword.

Loki sat down cross-legged on his bed and contemplated the choices he could make here. He could take the sword, and try to manipulate the situation to make Sigurd look like he was overreacting. Take the sword to the flat and mess around while he showed it to Verity. But, he knew, Verity wouldn’t play along, because her moral compass was ever on the straight and narrow and anyway, she’d know he was lying.

Lorelei would side with Sigurd over him, because she didn’t trust the Asgardian establishment and they all knew that the tentative little bit of control that let them languish in something resembling a real life on Midgard rested on Sigurd having enough power that Asgardia would rather leave him alone than bother. Losing Gram would put that in jeopardy, and Lorelei wouldn’t trade a shoelace for Loki, nevermind her happy ending. He knew well enough that this theft would be unjust, would put all of the power into the hands of the already powerful. He knew this, and he knew that Sig and Lorelei? Wouldn’t hurt a fly, really. For all the three of them pretended to hate each other, Loki knew they were good people, and they just wanted to live their lives in peace.

He could simply refuse. Not take the sword, let the Allmothers deal with it some other way. He could say it was above his pay grade, which it was.

Except, he couldn’t. Not really. He had duties that Sigurd and Lorelei couldn’t possibly understand. That idea couldn’t push its way forward from the back of his mind, as if constrained by something, writhing back and forth to break free. Or was it? Or was that an excuse, a claim to someone that he was trying, still, to do the right thing, and that it wasn’t his fault when he failed to.

He sighed, and stood up. His wardrobe was a mess, but it was an organised mess, and anyway it was a bright, sunny day outside and he could find his dragon scale armour easily from the way it glinted in the light at the back of his slogan t-shirts.

Sig had moved all the dirty washing from his desk chair. Loki didn’t have high hopes that it was for any reason other than playing PC games though. Sig was really into, like, Call of Duty and Halo. Were they PC? Loki didn’t know. He preferred superior gaming experiences, like Professor Layton.

Lo and behold, Loki found the mysteriously disappeared dirty clothing on Sig’s couch. For a guy whose feats and adventures were written down in legend, he really had some drab taste in furnishings.

Loki moved silently through the flat, letting just a little bit of his seidr seep into his steps to cushion the noise. He didn’t turn on any lights, instead relying on a little bit of patience to let his eyes adjust to the dark. His Jotunn heritage, dare he say it, came in handy at times like this due to the Jotnär having pretty decent night vision. This was in order to do crimes and eat children, his nursemaid had informed him when he was small. Well, Loki was doing crimes, but the jury was out on the eating children bit.

Loki was an expert catburglar, tales of his stealthiness were scribbled on the walls of ancient Midgardian caves, the remnants of long extinct societies, all of which he had outlived. Thus, he cleverly noticed the Guitar Hero™ plastic guitar and stepped over it.

Loki knew one thing about Sigurd. He was paranoid. Thus, Loki had a suspicion about where he would put Gram, and if he was correct he knew this job wouldn’t be easy.

He eased open the bedroom door, and watched as the hero of the stories he had been told as a babe snored while laying on his front. Huh, great ass.

Loki mentally smacked himself. Bad!

His attention was then quickly snatched by the gleaming sword that lay against the left bedpost. Ding ding, we have a winner! Sigurd both expected his sword to be stolen and expected to have to fight off home invaders, and so he kept his greatest asset (other than his ass) right next to him in his most vulnerable times. Loki was his worst nightmare, well usually, but even more so at this moment.

He crept forward, stepping carefully over strewn clothes. Wait, was that Lorelei’s blouse? Ugh, he didn’t want to think about that. He’d much rather they remain entirely celibate in his mind.

Loki crept closer, and reached out to grasp the hilt of the sword silently.

“...What the fuck? Loki?”

He should have run, probably. Teleported, gone invisible, maybe should have even jumped through the window. That might have thrown Sigurd off the scent right? Prince Loki, God of Trickery and Harbinger of Ragnarök wouldn’t have just leapt through a window. Well, the window was seventeen floors up actually, so maybe a regular burglar wouldn’t have either.

Anyway, what happened was he stood stock still, unable to move a muscle or turn to face Sigurd, as if he were labouring under the delusion that Sigurd was a creature that tracked prey by movement. He looked like something out of Looney Tunes, which wasn’t fantastic for his dignity.

“Loki,” Sigurd snapped again.

He turned, and winced at the look of outrage on his friend’s face. Sigurd was sat up on his elbow, his other arm on his comforter. He looked like he was ready to attack someone. Loki was pretty sure he hadn’t expected it to be - well, Loki.

“What the fuck were you doing?” he said. “Were you stealing Gram? Why? For who?”

Ouch, that hurt. He may have been stealing it for someone else, but it was a bit upsetting that Sigurd had immediately disregarded the idea he was working in his own interest.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. “The Allmothers send their regards,” he finally admitted drily.

If anything, Sigurd’s outrage grew. “How- How could you?”

A bit dramatic, Loki thought. Sigurd leapt out of his bed, and Loki didn’t have the chance to step back before his shoulders were in Sigurd’s bruising grip and his back pushed hard against the wall. “You know what this means,” Sigurd said, his disgust evident. “You aren’t stupid, Loki. You know what you’re doing.”

Oh, that was it, wasn’t it? Loki wasn’t evil because he did evil things. He was evil because he knew they were wrong before he did them, and he did them anyway.

“I have to,” he mumbled weakly. Was that a lie? Verity would know. “I have no choice.”

“Yes you do,” Sigurd said, releasing his grip and stepping back, “Yes you do, you’re just too much of a coward to admit it. You’re so desperate to play happy families. I can see it in you, and so can Lorelei. All you want is to be useful to people, even if it’s for the Allmothers, who treat you like shit. You do their fucking dirty work and they kick you around and you love it, because you get to be part of their rotten little story.”

Loki stared at him, suddenly feeling utterly, entirely tired beyond belief. Sigurd could not tell him anything that he did not tell himself.

“You’re a coward. You’re a fucking coward who does everything the Allmothers ask of you. One moment you sneer at them up there, in Asgard, and pretend that you and me and Lorelei are all in the same boat, but the next moment you bare your neck to them. One day they’re going to ask you to hurt someone you really care about, and you know what? You’ll do it. They’ll ask you to hurt Thor, or Verity, and you’ll do it without a second thought because you’re a coward, Loki, and you always will be.”

His breath caught in his throat. “I wouldn’t hurt Verity.”

“Yes, you would. If someone put it on a tapestry you’d do it in a fucking heartbeat.”

“I see, well,” he paused, looked to his right to avoid Sigurd’s gaze. “I’ll let you get back to sleep I suppose.”

Sigurd reached out to grab him, but he was gone before he had a chance.

—

Received FRI 2:08

Verity: hey u coming back tonight or what

Verity: im assuming ur working

Verity: if u are there’s leftover pasta bake in the fridge. Ik you hate leftovers but its on offer. Im off to bed, night!

Received FRI 11:02

Verity: hey called lorelei to check in on you and she says you and sig aren’t talking. She didnt seem thrilled w you either. U ok?

Verity: call me if you get the chance ok

Received MON 15:47

Verity: yh ok this is cringe but please call. Im worried

Verity: you usually lmk when youre gone this long and sig was being suspicious

Verity: i asked him if hed seen you and he like laughed

Verity: idk maybe hed be more concerned if something had happened but u guys dont exactly have a normal expectation for health and safety in the workplace

Received WED 23:21

Verity: please call i’m worried

Verity: please

Received THU 18:54

Verity: you’re a fucking idiot

Verity: I hate you

Received THU 19:02

Verity: i didn’t mean that

Verity: sorry.

Verity: please do call. please

Verity wasn’t the only one texting him, which would have done wonders for his ego if it had been anywhere near still intact, but she was the only one who’s texts he kept re reading, scanning them obsessively and trying to convince himself he was doing the right thing.

The thing that nagged him though, was how would he know what the right thing was?

All his life, the right thing was whatever was in stride with where he was determined to end up. The path had been laid out for him - all he had to do was walk it. But, though the Norns had written out his beginning, his end, his great misdeeds and stories, they hadn’t written about things like whether he should get KFC or not, whether he’d be good at Mario Party or what dog breed was his favourite (alsatian). They had never had the name Verity Lewis brush their lips.

Because this world was untethered. It simply wasn’t important enough for the Norns to have seen. Did that mean that they were free, here? Was that bad or good? To Loki, who despite everything had spent an eternity comfortable in the knowledge that he knew what would happen, and that the future was clear to him as long as he could stand in the halls he’d grown up in and stare at the tapestries on the walls, the idea of absolute undetermined fate was deeply terrifying. It caught in his throat, wrapped around his heart, squeezed the warmth out of his chest.

But Sigurd was right, and so he had a decision to make.

There were people walking around under him, where he sat perched on the roof of a Soviet era apartment building in Brno. They didn’t know what would happen to them, how many kids they’d have, whether they’d marry or how they’d die. They didn’t know any of that, and that meant they could decide.

Huh.

He stumbled when he flashed in, and his hand reached out steady himself against the wall. The lights were off, but after a couple of seconds he heard a slight clutter from Verity’s room. Taking a deep breath he made his way to the kitchen and sat down at the bar. He didn’t bother to switch the light on, instead just collapsed into the chair and placed his head in his hands.

The lights switched on. “Loki?”

He peeked at her from between his fingers. Verity stared at him as if she couldn’t quite decide whether to be angry or happy. She was squinting (she wasn’t wearing glasses - she must have been asleep). He must have looked suitably miserable because instead of launching into a tirade she narrowed her eyes and slowly moved to sit opposite him, as if trying to tame some vicious creature. Apt, perhaps.

Their silence hung very heavily. “I’m sorry,” Loki eventually said, mortified to hear a crack in his voice from disuse.

She watched him carefully. “I forgive you,” she replied. Not ‘it’s okay’, because Verity found lying, even unconsciously, very difficult. “Can you tell me what’s up?”

By ‘can’, Loki knew that Verity was asking as if this was something related to his work for the Allmothers, but he found that even though this wasn’t any secret mission detail he was forbidden from sharing, he still found it hard to describe.

“I mean,” he muttered, breaking away from her stare. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Wherever you want to?”

He swallowed. “I had to steal something from Sigurd. Gram-” She opened her mouth and he jerked his shoulders defensively. “Please let me just explain. The Allmothers asked me too. I knew that if I did it it would put Sig and Lorelei’s relative safety at a significant risk. But,” he paused, bit his lip, horrified by the lump in his throat. “Even though I knew it was the wrong thing to do, and that all of you, all of my friends, would think less of me because of it, I had to do it. I had to do it because if I don’t do things that are wrong, that are bad, I am not filling the role that I am set out to fill, that I have always been set out to fill.

“There are tapestries, in Asgard,” he explained, a wobble entering his tone. “They’ve been there since before me, before my parents, before anyone. They were woven by the Norns, who see all of the past, the present and the future. They were woven so that we, who will be images of all the people of the Nine Realms and who will serve as a reflection of their large and varied communion, could know where we fit and what roles we are to play. And I’m a villain, Verity. I am the bad guy, because someone has got to be. There are people who actively choose to be bad and evil and selfish all over the shop, and someone has to represent them in the grand scheme of things. And, mainly, I have to keep everyone’s hands clean by making mine dirty.”

Her hands reached steadily out, grabbed one of his and held it between them. They were tears threatening to fall now, and they choked up his voice.

“So I do what the Allmothers ask me to, and I antagonise Thor, and I play my part as the bad guy of the story so that one day that story may be told to children as they are tucked into bed, so that they know that immorality causes you nothing but strife. I am supposed to have that strife, and through this my immorality is good and right, because I am an example.”

He paused. “Sigurd said I would hurt you, if they asked me to.”

“Would you?” she asked.

A second passed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’d rather not risk it, but I thought you at least deserved an explanation for my sudden disappearance.”

She leaned back then, stared out their windows and onto the road beneath them, still busy despite the hour. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“Dare I ask?” he chuckled wetly.

Her voice was firm. “I think that’s bullshit. I know you’re telling the truth, that you might hurt me if your Moms asked you. But I think you don’t know that that’s not true, which is why it’s registering as right to me.”

He squinted at her in confusion.

“You believe it,” she explained. “Which is why it’s registering as true to me. But that doesn’t mean you would, it just means you don’t think you’re a good person, and that’s not news.

“You see yourself as some kind of cut-out character with one trait, a yin to Thor’s yang or some shit, but you only think that’s all real because people have told you it is. Who’s to say those tapestries are anything? I think that you - all of you Asgardians - are terrified of being unmoored, so you make up shit like this so that you don’t have to grapple with morality.”

He tried to interrupt, but Verity continued. “You’re all terrified of life, so you pretend it’s one big play you’re putting on for our benefit, with roles and lines so that you needn’t make ‘em up. But you know what? Why don’t you just try? Try to improvise. Break away from it all. Maybe those tapestries do mean something, but maybe they just come true because you all keep doing what they say.

“You’re not the bad guy in a play, Loki,” she told him, her voice full of emotion and her hand rubbing his. It was just enough to keep him tethered to reality, he thought. “You’re my friend. You’re funny, and flippant. You don’t like to talk about your emotions. You don’t have great self-esteem and you kick ass at Jenga. You’re playing a part, but you know the thing about actors? They have lives when they get off the stage, and you could too.”

His boots echoed across the ground as he climbed the short hill to his destination. It was dust, not dirt, that he trod on, and the air was stale and cloyed in his lungs. It was the kind of air that felt like it didn’t blow, but just hung in the air for eternity, older than you by indescribable amounts.

No one went here. It was unplottable by some working laid down long before even the beginning of Asgardian history. It had taken Loki four days to crack, because 1) he’d spent all of his non-eating, non-sleeping time in the last couple of days focused on it, 2) he’d already made a groundwork as a teenager before his mother had told him off for meddling in things he shouldn’t have been and 3) he was pretty fucking good. Really, the only reason he hadn’t touched it before was because as he became a man, he grew to respect the Norns. Things had changed.

“Hello!” he called, not surprised to find the three women staring at him, likely well aware of his arrival for at least eternity, or something.

“Liesmith,” Lady Verdandi spoke in a low, powerful voice. “You have come to rattle the chains that you feel resting upon your shoulders.”

“Yep,” he responded, popping the ‘p’.

“These chains,” Skuld said in a tight voice. “Are imaginary.”

“No actually,” he said, beginning to pace around the room. “You see, I don’t really care if they’re ‘imaginary’ or whatever. I actually am just here to let you know that I’m just going to be kind of doing my own thing from now on.”

“Your ‘own thing’?” Urd sneered. “ You do not have your ‘own thing’. The fate we have laid out for you is everything you are.”

“Everything I am is just a mask. A mask that you put on me!”

“Oh? That implies something on which a mask can be put. Is there anything under your mask, Loki? Do you even know?”

“Well, I guess I’m going to find out,” he ground out. They were sat down, staring up at him, and he felt unnervingly like he was still a child who had been summoned to his father’s study to receive an admonishment for troublemaking.

“You will find out,” Verdandi explained calmly. “That you are mistaken, and that you will play your part in the fate that will become and will end and will begin again, whether you try to fight against it or not.”

“So that’s it then?” Loki said softly, although his voice still echoed across the ancient walls that enclosed him. “There’s no path to grace for me. I’m your villainous fool, cast in this grand play so that your heroes may show their virtue in my vanquishment. I’m good when I’m bad, and I’m bad when I’m good.”

He paused, and stared her down.

“Well, I’m afraid I’d rather be bad on my own terms, actually.”

Verdandi had opened her mouth to say something else, probably something even more patronising, but before she had the chance Loki had stepped between reality and left Nornheim and its frigid, stale air behind him.

“Saw you coming,” the Watcher said when Loki stepped out in front of him.

Loki smiled. “Naturally,”

Heimdall sat tiredly on the Bifröst’s lock. Loki noticed with a sort of jolt that Heimdall was getting old. Maybe they all were. “What is it you would like from me, my prince?”

“Oh nothing really,” he answered. “I just thought I should let someone know that I will be unable to complete the most recent mission that the Allmothers have given me. In fact, perhaps you could let them know that I’m putting in my two week’s notice, so to speak? Although I’m not really giving them any notice, let alone two weeks.”

“Oh? Might I ask what has brought this on, your highness?”

Loki crossed his arms. “I’m trying this new thing called ‘making your own destiny’. All the cool kids are doing it.”

Heimdall nodded. He wouldn’t have been able to have viewed Loki’s conversation with the Norns, but he would have seen what Verity had said. “I wish you luck, dear child,” he said softly.

Loki’s smile turned quiet and genuine for just a moment, before he turned away and took a few steps. Wait! He had something else to mention.

He looked back at Heimdall.

“By the way, maybe I am going to kill you someday,” he said. “”But I promise that I’m going to try my damndest not to.”

With that, he stepped back into New York, and headed towards Dominoes to pick up their pizza. They were doing movie night, he and Verity. They were going to watch Legally Blonde. Loki thought about - What was her name? Susie? Sarah? He thought maybe she was right, in the end. Maybe it was a gift to believe in what can’t be seen, and thus a gift to follow darkened paths. But the path that brought him home felt warm and reliable, just like it always did.

#this is nothing #really its just an attempt to see if i can write something 5k+#so its not good #but hey #loki #loki agent of asgard #agent of asgard #verity lewis #loki fic

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