#A) yes this echoes loki. yes it does. they are much more similar than they appear.

[mimisempai]

You may be out of my sight, but never out of my mind

Summary:

During his journey with Sylvie, Loki realizes that Mobius occupies his mind much more than he thinks.

5 times where Loki thinks about Mobius and 1 time where he realizes that he misses him.

Notes:

Loki along the episode 3, in the episode Mobius is not present... physically, but in Loki's head... it's another story...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32141530

1992 words - rating G

1

As he tried to keep up with her, Sylvie wryly asked him, "What exactly makes a Loki a Loki?"

Seriously, why were they all asking him the same thing? Loki remembered their first discussion with Mobius.

"All I seek is a deeper understanding of the fearsome God of Mischief. What makes Loki tick?"

Mobius... who seemed to know him before Loki even answered him. Who seemed to know before him what made him tick. Mobius who had made him tick, who had helped him see his flaws, but who hadn't used them against him.

He wouldn't reveal anything to Sylvie, he didn't know her well enough to trust her yet. Though a little voice in his head whispered to him, "You didn't know Mobius for much longer when you made yourself vulnerable to him."

Yes, but Mobius was Mobius as Loki was Loki.

He sighed before replying, with his usual verve, "Independence, authority, style."

Some would say three words weren't enough to describe him, but it was enough for now.

Sylvie sneered and retorted, "So, naturally you went to work for the boring, oppressive time police."

What a cheeky woman, she didn't know anything.

He protested, "I don't work for them. I'm a consultant."

Even though several people at the TVA had repeatedly reminded him of his place in the short time he'd been there, Loki liked to think that Mobius considered him as such.

If Loki was honest, he had enjoyed "working" with Mobius. Not to mention the way they had "grown closer."

But now... he didn't even know if they would get reunited and if they did... he didn't even want to think about it. He couldn't. He didn't have time for that.

Sylvie replied, "You don't know what you want."

Loki answered with a deflection, even though deep down he knew exactly what he wanted, or rather who he wanted.

Mobius...

2

"I can't sleep in a place like this."

Loki, surprised, asked Sylvie, "You can't sleep on a train?"

She replied, annoyed, "No. I can't sleep around untrustworthy people."

That he could understand.

Of course, he couldn't help but think of the last time he had slept like that.

In the TVA archives, while he and Mobius were doing research, Loki had fallen asleep. He hadn't just dozed off, he had fallen deeply asleep.

One could argue that it was because since New York he hadn't really been able to sleep, so exhaustion outweighed caution, or that he was bored with the research, but Loki knew it wasn't either of those reasons.

No matter how exhausted he was, no matter how tired he was, he had never slept in the presence of anyone else without his subconscious being in a state of minimal awareness.

It was ingrained in him. Few people had given him reason to trust.

In a place like the TVA, filled with hostile people, the presence of one person had been enough for him to let his guard down and sleep soundly.

He couldn't help but wonder why.

What was it about Mobius that was breaking down Loki's defenses one by one? Worse, what did Mobius have that made Loki's defenses fall one by one without making him want to run away?

Mobius...

3

Sylvie was a little more open and asked, "Hang on a second. So, tell... Tell me about your mother."

Sylvie was different in a way, kind of like Mobius, she made him want to confide... a little. Or was it because she was a variant of himself? In any case, he didn't mind answering, even if the news of his mother's death was still tough to accept.

"I barely remember her. Just blips of a dream at this point. You know, when I was young, she'd do these little bits of magic for me. Like turn a flower into a frog or cast fireworks over the water. It all seemed impossible. She told me that I'd be able to do it too because... Because I could do anything. You wanna see?"

He twirled his hand and mini fireworks erupted from it. He smiled, proud of himself.

Sylvie snorted and said, "Not bad.

Then Loki added, "She was the kinda person you'd want to believe in you."

Knowing the truth about his mother's death now, his sadness was all the greater. He could never again give her reason to believe in him.

The same little voice came again, "But there is someone else..."

There was someone else he would want him to believe in him.

Someone else who had believed in him enough to ask him for help, even if it was to fulfill his own agenda.

Mobius who had put his head on the line so that Loki wouldn't be reset, because he had seen something in Loki the same way his mother had always seen something in him.

Mobius had told him something that had resonated with him, like an echo of his mother's words.

"I guess I'm wondering why does someone with so much range just wanna rule?

But then things happened and Loki had to make this choice in a hurry.

He wondered if Mobius still believed in him now.

He could still hear him shouting just before he went through the portal.

"Loki wait!"

He couldn't help but hope that the man would listen to him before judging him.

That Loki would still have time to show him that yes, he could be believed in.

Mobius...

4

"How about you? You're a prince. Must've been would-be-princesses or perhaps, another prince." Sylvie punctuated her sentence with a little wink, as if she was daring him to prove her wrong.

But Loki was proud of who he was, and he wouldn't hide, he answered her with a little smile, "A bit of both. I suspect the same as you."

She nodded and Loki continued, "But, nothing ever..." he paused because what he was about to say was not completely true anymore.

However, Sylvie finished his sentence for him, "Real."

As he heard Sylvie say this word out loud, he realized it was no longer true. He took a sip.

This sort of relationship they had started with Mobius before they left for Alabama, Loki didn't want to believe it wasn't real.

He, the master of illusion, didn't want to believe that the emotions Mobius stirred in him weren't real.

He couldn't believe that the caress of his fingers, the taste of his lips that he could still feel were not real.

The very idea that the understanding and compassion he had read in Mobius' eyes was not real, it was terrifying to Loki.

Because for once he'd caught a glimpse of something that could only be his, not a throne, not a title, not glory. Just something real.

Mobius...

5

Sylvie had fallen asleep and Loki found himself alone with his thoughts, his thoughts that were only directed towards one person.

So he continued to drink and as the musicians played a melody that reminded him of Asgard, uninhibited by alcohol, he felt like singing and dancing.

With a snap of his fingers, he changed his borrowed uniform into that of the TVA.

It wasn't the leathers of Asgard, nor his god-like outfits, but he felt better right away.

Because it was the same as Mobius and it made him feel like he belonged. That the bond was not broken.

The jacket, even though it had the horrible name of Variant on the back, it was Mobius who had given it to him, who had told Loki that he looked smart in it.

Okay, drunkenness made him particularly sappy, but after all, for a short while, he felt like letting go.

He began to sing and dance in the middle of the dance floor, with some of the other passengers joining in.

When she sings, she sings “Come home”,

When she sings, she sings “Come home”

He almost burst out laughing when Sylvie woke up and saw him on the dance floor. She asked him where his uniform was. He just shrugged his shoulders and continued to sing and dance happily.

Suddenly the music became slower and more nostalgic, similar to a song his mother used to sing to him, and he leaned against the bar and couldn't help but sing along,

I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene

Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem

I eplehagen står møyen den vene

og synger “når kommer du hjem?”

Men traner danser og fossene stanser

når hun synger, hun synger “kom hjem”

And before the emotion took over, he began to dance and sing happily again in an attempt to keep the nostalgia from overwhelming him.

When the music stopped, he returned to Sylvie and took his place in front of her.

She asked him with a raised eyebrow, "What did you just sing to look so troubled?"

Loki with a slightly tight throat, but trying not to let it show, answered, "It's Asgardian, it says :

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone

Over the glacier I make my way

In the apple garden stands the maiden fair and sings,

"When will you come home?"

Loki had to stop, overwhelmed by emotion.

Sylvie, her eyes devoid of all mockery, said softly, "So there is a would-be-princess somewhere..."

Loki chuckled sadly before replying, "I like metaphors you know, in this instance, it's not a princess, it's a prince, and I don't know if he's waiting for me or hoping to see me again, it's not even really my home, but..."

"...but you'd like to believe it, right?"

Loki could only nod.

Mobius...

+1

Sylvie was explaining to him how her power worked as they made their way to where they could escape.

"That young soldier from the TVA, her mind was messed up. Everything clouded. I had to pull a memory from hundreds of years prior, before she even fought for them."

Loki stopped, shocked, not wanting to realize what Sylvie's words implied.

He asked her, urgently, "What? What'd you just say? Before she joined the TVA?"

She answered as if it were the most normal thing, "Yeah. She was just a regular person on Earth."

"A regular person?"

"Loved margaritas."

Loki continued as he began to understand, "I was told that everyone who works for the TVA was created by the Time-Keepers."

Sylvie laughed, "That's ridiculous. They're all Variants, just like us."

Loki appalled, "They don't know that!"

Mobius doesn't know that. The way he talks about the TVA, the jetski, Casey not knowing what fish are. They don't know that!

As they ran toward their destination, Loki couldn't stop the stream of thoughts that swirled in his head.

Mobius...

He thought back to their discussion.

"I think a TVA agent showing up on a jet ski on the Sacred Timeline, that would create a branch for sure."

"It'd be fun, though."

"Yeah, it'd be really fun."

"So, why read about them?"

"Just helps remind me of what we're fighting for."

How would he react if he learned that his whole life was a lie?

Loki knew it. Loki had lived it. He had been devastated when he learned that his parents were not his parents.

Loki's heart bled for Mobius, even though the man didn't know yet.

Mobius who had that kind of candor that Loki had lost for so long.

At that moment he realized how much he missed the man and how much he had become an important presence in his life. For the first time since they met, he didn't want his comforting and protective presence. He didn't want Mobius to be there for him, he, Loki, wanted to be there for Mobius.

He felt like protecting and comforting.

He felt like fighting for something other than himself.

At that moment, it wasn't the time keepers, or the tempad or anything else that mattered to him.

He had only one thought, only one word in his mind.

Mobius...

__________

The whole serie here : The story of Loki and Mobius

🌈 Happy Pride month ! 🌈

To celebrate, 1 day, 1 story.

Be ready for smiles, laugh, fluff, tooth rotthing fluff, positive vibes and a lot of love!

Not beta'd

#developing relationship #lokius #lokius fics #loki #mobius m mobius #sylvie laufeydottir #moki #wowki #loki x mobius #5+1 fic

[nincompoopydoo]

DEBRIS AND MISERY

SAME OLD LOKI ; PART 6 / ?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.3k (oops) SUMMARY: You find yourself venturing deeper into finding the Loki variant on the loose with the help of Mobius and Loki while maintaining your temper around the God of mischief and fighting with your own demons. A/N: Downtime apparently lasted for more than a week. I had absolutely no motivation to write but I eventually came around. There’s alot going on in this. Please tell me what you think, what you love, hate and look forward to. Thank you so much for showing so much love to d&m. gif from this gifset by @sersi WARNINGS: Swearing. Imagery relating to death (i think?). You and Loki’s relationship fluctuating like the goddamn economy. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERPOST ; MASTERLIST

Blue. Your flight suit is blue.

Your eyes sting with worry, ticking to a pair of hands buckling the straps that lay across your chest. A man secures it tightly, forcing your back against the cockpit chair. Your gaze drifts to the concentric steel rings of yellow, red, and white that stretch overhead and around you—being suspended within a 3-axis gimbal sends another churning sensation within your abdomen.

You hear a voice. It courses through the room and vibrates within your ears like fluttering echoes in a tunnel. It’s a man. He calls out your name from below.

“You ready?”

In your periphery, you see him, tall with slicked-back hair, standing with other men that adorn similar flight suits of blue. You nod, inhaling deeply as your hands reach for the controls. Suddenly, a metallic clang echoes through the room and the machine whirrs to life. The rings begin spinning in tandem, tossing your body in all directions. Your grip tightens around the controls, clicking with every push and pull as you struggle to analyze the spin. But, the machine spins faster.

Faster and faster and faster.

The machine continues to whirr. Your hands are still shifting the controls.

Faster and faster and faster.

Your eyes begin to droop, nausea taking hold of your body.

Faster and faster and faster.

You only hear your breaths; every inhale and exhale—they're loud.

Faster and faster and faster.

Too fast.

Stop.

...

Click. Click. Click.

Footsteps. Not the clicks of the controls. You hear them clicking against tile floors from afar. From darkness, your eyes meet the color brown, shiny and polished—it’s wooden. The sound of the vast building’s acoustics hum in tune with the occasional chatter and echoing thump. You recognize the ambiance and it comforts your hasty thoughts as your brain tries to wreck itself in comprehending your current surroundings.

It’s one of those dreams again. The ones that kept you awake at night since the Sakaar incident, as if reliving the memories of another life. It isn’t yours but the realism to it makes it so complex that your brain cannot even comprehend the experiences during these dreams that occur.

To see, touch, hear, smell, and taste. Do dreams exceed the limit of disconnection and logic? Are dreams to be so immersive that it feels more like a memory, an echo of the past?

Through the turmoil of parsing between what’s real and what’s not, a tap on your shoulder hauls you back to reality. You turn to see Mobius, looking ridiculously exhilarated. Behind him lingers an amused Loki, hands tugging into the pockets of his jacket. The analyst says your name with a tone of equal exuberance to his manner.

“I thought I’d find you here. Do you always sleep at the archives?”

You snort, seizing yourself up as you wipe your face with your palm in hopes of feeling slightly more awake and alive than you were before. “No. Sometimes, I sleep at my desk too.”

Exhausted and sarcastic. Typical you.

Mobius rounds the table to sit beside you, gesturing Loki to his previous spot before he got up and ran away from you without any explanation. He shoots you a smile, lips pressed together, almost hesitant to sit across from you. You watch him through narrowed eyes as you address him with folded arms. “And here you are, back here again.”

Loki cannot fight the growing grin upon his lips, knowing all too well that you're referring to how he led you into an unnecessary chase down the corridors of the TVA for the sake of his entertainment. Well, it was not unnecessary. Things were turning out to be a bore and with the sudden thought of a proposition to help with his case, it doesn’t mean he has to drag out the fun of irritating the hell out of everyone else.

And you are not a bore.

-

“Loki! Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

You’re outright screaming at him but his long legs only stride faster than yours could handle, slumber still clinging to your face like a thick, waxen mask. He’s so quick, weaving through tangerine hallways, skidding across the tiled floors.

He saunters down the hall with quick feet but doesn’t sprint, clever enough not to draw any attention.

He ought to answer you. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he flashes you a cheeky smile. He swears he saw flames burning in your eyes for a moment.

As you wind another corner, you already see him making one last quick dart through the elevator doors that slide open as it dings unceremoniously. Through your wide-eyed gaze, you signal him with eyes that carry a warning.

“Don’t you dare close that fucking door.” you snarl, voice booming from down the hallway and so does the clicking of the heels of your Oxford shoes as you march towards him like you’re on the hunt for prey.

Loki jams his finger onto the button to close the doors, unable to wipe off his grin. “Don’t you trust me?” is all he says to you, sending you a wink through the closing gap of the elevator doors as he raises his palm to wave you farewell.

-

You decided Loki wasn’t worth the time he has already taken from your assigned paperwork. So, you returned to your desk with a trace of bitterness in your tongue while attempting to suppress the regret for actually feeling sorry for Loki. Only because you know how it is like to be alone.

That’s the thing about Loki. He gets inside your head, makes you think that for once, he may be worth not pruning. He makes you think he is capable of change, capable of compassion. He makes you think he cares from the way he looks at you with those eyes that flicker the spark of hope in you. This Loki is the same old Loki.

Well, maybe the one in Sakaar had a good chance of earning your trust. But that’s gone now.

You shift in your seat, elbows now leaning against the edge of the table. “And to answer your question, no. I do not trust you. And I never will.”

Famous last words of the variant turned analyst.

Nobody trusts you either.

Except for the grey-haired analyst with the obsession for jet skis and you never understood why. Maybe, it’s because you’re the only one who is willing to put up with his ramblings.

Mobius eyes you and Loki’s interaction as the two of you seem to fall into the rhythm of making things even more complex than it appears. It's all part of his grand plan. Mobius knows you well enough to know you are possibly enjoying Loki's company no matter how much he irritates you. And Loki, it's clear how he admires you and how you constantly surprise him every time he crosses paths with you.

“What would I ever do without your trust?” the God sneers, each articulation of every word wrapped in mockery paired with dramatically placing his hand to his heart. Your eye twitches, the spitfire of your personality ready to fire back with a probable nasty insult. Yet, Mobius places his hand on your shoulder, while the other outstretched towards Loki as if trying to keep the two of you apart.

“Okay, okay. No need to get all riled up now. We only just had a breakthrough in the case, and I’m not letting you kill each other just yet.”

Your anger seems to immediately wash away, replaced by curiosity. You blink at your colleague. “Breakthrough?”

“Yes, and it was surprisingly Loki’s theory. Now—”

“Why do I smell...sulfur?”

You cut his sentence short as a strong whiff of a reeked scent began to descend upon you, billowing in the air. You inhale deeply, brows furrowing in concentration and confusion. An overpowering scent of a decaying body, faint but strong enough to seem out of the ordinary. The archives never smell rotten, always floor polish. Mobius and Loki share a look. Mobius is the one to speak up, attempting to distract you from your sudden strong sense of smell. “Sulfur? What, like when there’s a demonic manifestation? I mean, we are in the presence of Loki—”

“You went to Pompeii, didn’t you?”

In all of the time he has spent with Mobius who had a constant laid-back and confident nature to him, he has never seen him so red in the face. As the situation unfolds, he wonders why Mobius has made it a point to hide that information with so much eagerness which now has proved to be useless. You’re not only intelligent but also quick—only in terms of the mind rather than your physical capabilities.

You can hardly run, but your brain outshines everyone else he has met in the TVA.

Mobius is now waiting for the imminent chaos and mayhem you’re about to bring. You’re going to call him insane like every other time he has suggested an out-of-the-ordinary idea. Causing a scene is one of your talents. He has his hand on your shoulder again.

“You hate Pompeii, Mobius. Why the hell would bring him—Wait.” Your eyes are wide and blinking. “You went to Pompeii. Alone. I know that from the look on your faces. Which means no reset charge...No Nexus event.” You pause, pursing your lips. Then, you avert your gaze to Loki who watches you curiously. “Are you suggesting the variant is hiding in apocalypses?”

Mobius’ laugh comes off like a puff of air. He pats you on the back like a proud uncle. “Back on the game, Agent!”

Loki is slightly impressed. Only slightly.

“Okay, you two stay here. I’ll go get the files. Great work, you two.” Mobius gestures to the both of you with an outstretched index finger, grin so wide as he scurries off. Mobius loves a good case, especially when there’s a breakthrough. And with you finally familiarizing yourself with working together with Loki, everything is finally starting to look up.

The two of you end up finding each other’s gaze and for the first time, you smile at him. It’s small but genuine.

“You know you could have told me.”

“I would have, but you don’t trust me, remember?”

You hum, raising a brow. “And running away was supposed to gain my trust?”

Loki chuckles, eyes flicking to the table. “I never said anything about gaining your trust.”

Your smile grows wider, and Loki decides how he prefers you like this—relaxed and amused.

He oddly sees his mother in you. It’s the way you look at him. Like you know him.

Right, you have met him. Once.

“What was I like? The one you met at Sakaar.”

You blink, slightly taken aback by his sudden question that hasn’t got to do with insinuating you.

“The same as you—barely tolerable,” you say tightly, heaving a sharp exhale. ”Just…a lot sadder.”

You hadn’t mentioned how he willingly helped escape your execution because a part of you still believes it all to be a lie. The TVA has your complete fidelity but ever since the Sakaar incident, your trust in the way the system works has been swayed. After years of being trapped in your mind, the question of whether your capabilities in logic have been damaged due to loneliness still begs. Judge Renslayer believes in your incompetence but you believe she hides a secret about the Time Keepers.

The three beings, creator of the TVA, personally convicted you as innocent, allowing you to maintain your job. Nothing of this makes sense.

Maybe Judge Renslayer lost all her faith in you, her second-best analyst because your Nexus event relates to Loki. The one variant that has been causing havoc to the Sacred Timeline. And this Loki, the one that seems to be very curious about your place in the TVA and the Time Keepers, is no different than the others.

You find yourself feeling an uncalled sense of sadness that dwells in your chest at the thought of leaving the only friendship you secretly wished to have maintained back at Sakaar. Before you let yourself fall into the abyss of melancholic wishful thinking, you swiftly direct the conversation elsewhere.

"I’m sorry Mobius referred to you as the devil,” you say coyly. “You really aren’t.”

Loki, who seems to catch on with the sarcastic tone of your voice, leans farther into his seat. “Really?”

A smirk returns to your face. “You're worse than the devil." He snorts, noticing the vague hint of crimson growing upon your cheeks and how your eyes seem to crinkle a little more than usual.

He finds himself swallowing under your stare, fiddling his fingers in an attempt to calm his sudden erratic heartbeat. A stutter under your now kind gaze—no one ever stares at him with a smile. "You are not the first to say that."

There’s another pause; Loki’s face is set with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You feel a pang of guilt in your chest in remembrance of how you’re not the first to have treated him the way you did. He’s dangerous but, there’s no reason for animosity. Yet, it all boils down to the lives he has willingly taken. It doesn’t differentiate him from the rest of the TVA.

Mysterious variant.

The devil is always in the details.

Strangely, the work of the devil may prove to be useful in times of cul-de-sacs as an idea comes to mind. “I think...I think I know where you’re at right now.” Your voice is light, distracted by your now running thoughts. You’re on your feet, chair squeaking as you push it back. Your pen is in your grasp and you wave it in the air, reflecting the gears that turn at high speed within your brain.

Frankly, you’re not making any sense. Loki furrows his brows, slowly standing. “What do you mean? I’m right here—"

“No. The other one. The variant. And it has to do with gum.”

You’re still not making sense and it’s clear that in your eyes, he is invisible. You’re the only one in that frenzied mind of yours.

“What?”

You don’t answer him, feet quickly bringing you down the passageway along the vast rows of shelves that stretch along with the floor’s pristine balcony of white and the two of you are back to playing chase and run. Only this time, the roles are reversed.

-

Mission Haven Hills: not successful.

Really not successful. Far from successful.

You witnessed the doom of bombing the Sacred Timeline, firsthand. Employees scramble at the controls as you watch the screen that looms over the control room. What was once a single line, running along with time has now grown like a tree with fruits of chaos, caused by Nexus events scattered across time and places.

You wished the dust would settle and this was all simply a dream but you realize this was his plan all along.

Bomb the timeline. Distract the TVA.

There is one thing you know about Loki. He is moved by revenge and resentment.

As if you possess some sort of telepsychic powers, a part of you feels that danger itself is within the vicinity of the TVA. The variant is here, you just know it.

You hope Mobius is okay.

Scurrying down the winding hallways, past the hurried time hunters, and past the time theaters, you find yourself heading towards the golden doors of the Time Keepers’ chambers. In a time of uncertainty, your gut is your only source of guidance.

At the end of the hallway, you see bodies on the ground, nearly lifeless—time hunters, either unarmed or batons missing. You plucked one of the sizzling batons from the ground as you cautiously stepped around the laying bodies. You clutch it tightly to calm the blood rushing to your head, pounding along with your heartbeat as you take on the venture into the foyer of the grand chambers with secrets not wanting to be unveiled.

You round the corner, following the wooden panels for walls laid along the entrance. The glowing end of the baton within your grasp reflects off the black porcelain tiles beneath your careful feet. You hear voices, grunts, and shouting as if in combat.

Then, you see them. Loki in his variant jacket and a woman with locks of blonde and streaks of black. She adorns a headpiece of golden horns—one broken off.

Isn't Loki supposed to be at Haven Hills?

Recognizing the presence of another, the two turn to you, daggers still held to each other's throats. Loki eyes you with wide eyes, a silent plea whether to help or stand down, you’re unsure. Your gaze shifts to the woman once more who watches you with an equal resemblance to the other.

Then, it hits you. You recognize the dark emerald cloak she wears. You know exactly who she is. You just never thought it would be a she.

“You!” Your exclamation is bitter, and it’s directed towards the woman who seems to be strangely expectant of your remark as if she already knows who you are. She is L1190, a Loki variant. The one who slashed you with the TVA’s baton, scaring your left cheek. The one who hauled you through the time door and left you stranded in Sakaar for thousands of years.

You know exactly what she has done. She knows what she has done.

“You did this to me!” you gesture to the scar on your left cheek, eyes fixated solely on her, nearing the two with caution. You’re angry. Very angry. All pent-up rage begging to be set free.

Before Loki could even perceive the current situation he landed in between two women who very much want him dead, you’re already swinging the baton to her face with full force but she blocks it with her sword but slightly staggers in her step. You glare at her. She seems a little surprised. In an instant, you take a step back and go for another strike to her rib, but she blocks you again, sliding away and dodging your hit by a mere second. You growl out of frustration, seething through your teeth, and without hesitation, you strike again. The fight goes on—strike, block, strike, dodge. And with every blow, your intensity escalates, each a little harder than the one before. Loki stands there, watching, speechless and frozen.

You strike again, the baton crackling less than an inch away from her face but she dodges just in time, swinging her sword across your face. It grazes your cheek, now a gash of crimson on top of your scar, and with the sudden blow of searing pain, you lose your balance.

The variant spins into a kick that sweeps your legs out from under, knocking you hard onto the ground. The baton rolls out from your grip. Your hand flies to the gash, trickling with blood.

“Hey!”

The brawl comes to a halt. You seize yourself up from the ground, back and head aching, turning to see Judge Renslayer accompanied by two hunters, batons held up in defense position. You were about to reach for your own that was a stretch away when suddenly, you felt a hand grip you by the collar, hauling you to your knees. Her sword held to your neck.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill her.”

“Go for it.”

Your eyes are wide in shock, all anger towards the variant now turning into this churning feeling of betrayal that resides within your abdomen. Judge Renslayer doesn’t look at you, focus fixated on the two variants—it’s like you’re not even there.

The three start to charge towards you and you involuntarily shut your eyes. Then, as quick as a rattlesnake, Loki grabs the tempad hung at her waist and sends the three of you falling through the ground.

That’s the thing about Loki. He gets inside your head, makes you think that for once, he may be worth not pruning. Now, with your back landing hard on top of him, all you could think about is wanting to strangle him to death.

TAGLIST:

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#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson imagine #loki imagine #loki series #loki spoilers #sylvie #mobius #ravonna renslayer

[monicashipslokius]

Soulmates, Actually - Pt 2

(Read part one)

Despite their desire to buy Mobius more appropriate clothing as the soulmate of a god, Loki knows they’re not welcome back in Asgard. Not without facing some serious repercussions anyway - none of which they’re willing to subject Mobius to, by association.

So while they temporarily ‘magicked’ themself and Mobius away from the dark streets of that German city to a sunny, hot desert, they aren’t totally sure where to go next. They need a safe harbor, but few would give refuge to the notorious god of mischief. And therefore, again, to Mobius by association.

Some soulmate Loki is turning out to be.

Their displeasure must show on their face, because Mobius clutches their forearm and rubs his thumb back and forth in gentle strokes near the dip of their elbow. Loki closes their eyes a moment, and they take a breath. How such a simple gesture from their soulmate could bring such peace... Truly Loki is the most fortunate being in the universe. Even... even after everything else they’ve been through.

“We cannot stay here,” Loki says, eyes still closed, humiliated by their own incompetence.

“It’s not so bad,” Mobius says, chipper as ever. “I’m a bit overdressed, but...”

Loki opens their eyes again to see Mobius tug at the lapel of his suit. He is already sweating through the shirt underneath.

Humans are such fragile things, in need of such diligent care-taking. Something unpleasant claws at Loki’s ribcage from the inside. A voice whispers in their ear, You are not enough.

“Hey, I got an idea,” Mobius says, squeezing Loki’s arm in excitement. A smile slides easily across his lips. “We could go back to my place. Sure. Yeah. It’s not exactly built for royalty, but... There’s running water and some shade and a fridge with lots of soda pop.”

Loki frowns, confused, though they’re sure they understood most of those words. “...Soda pop?”

“Only the best brands. Yeah, this is great! Okay. Dubuque isn’t going to know what hit them.”

Loki tilts their head. “...Dubuque?”

Mobius nods, cheerful smile never dimming. “Iowa. I was only in Germany for a data analysis conference. Speaking of, I should probably text my coworker and let her know I’m not dead. I don’t want them to start a job search for my replacement yet. I told you how important my job is?”

Loki frowns harder, even as Mobius steps closer. He holds onto their shoulders.

“Dubuque, Iowa, get ready. Here comes the god of mischief and their soulmate!”

*

Loki isn’t sure what they expected Dubuque, Iowa to be like, but the lodgings they teleport into, presumably Mobius’s lodgings, are hopefully not a fair representation of the city as a whole.

“Home sweet home,” Mobius says.

“Is this a closet?” Loki asks, peering around the large single room. A bed is wedged against the far wall under a pair of small windows. To their immediate left, is the semblance of a minuscule kitchen - a sink, a few cabinets, and the promised refrigerator.

“Now, I know it doesn’t seem like much, but this place has everything you could ever need.”

Mobius walks into the living quarters. Three strides and he’s already halfway across the room. He goes to the windows and draws back the sheer curtains. The slightly improved lighting does nothing for Loki’s opinion. The walls, the bedspread, the carpeting - all shades of a light brown that Loki cannot tell is intentionally pale or faded over time.

“Bathroom’s through there,” Mobius says, pointing to a doorway off the corner that doubles as a bedroom.

Loki checks, and finds it lacking. There is not even a bath!

“Are all Midgardian accommodations like this?” Loki asks. They try to keep the disdain from their voice, for Mobius’s sake - but it is precisely for Mobius’s sake that they are so outraged!

“Oh. Well? Nah.” Mobius rubs the back of his neck. “I guess a lot of places are bigger, though it’s important, I think, to be happy with what you have.” He lifts his shoulders, then lets them drop. “Some people don’t have anything.”

Mobius shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it over the bedspread. The sweat down his back speaks of his fragility once more, and Loki turns away. Mobius said he was valued by his company, but if that were true...

“Do all top data analysts have similar accommodations?” Loki asks. They’re still holding the scepter. Looking around, they see another door - a cloak closet? Loki draws open the door, and yes! Coats and shirts stuff the narrow space. Shoes are lined neatly across the floor. Loki tucks the scepter into the back, behind the clothes.

“The company pays me pretty well, actually,” Mobius says. “It’s just that... uh. How do I put this?”

Loki closes the door and turns toward Mobius, who has unbuttoned his shirt cuffs, and is rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

Mobius looks up to the ceiling, then at the bathroom door. “I had a bigger place for a long while, but a few years ago, I downsized. Lots of people buy big in anticipation of... well. But when they reach a certain age, they start to assume that... I guess I’d given up.”  He waves an arm out. “This place? It's been enough for just me.”

Loki takes a only small step forward, wanting to be at his side but suddenly afraid to, with Mobius’s sudden vulnerability. Loki doesn’t have the best reputation for healing things. Most of their life, they’ve only been good at breaking.

They fight to keep their voice steady as they say, “You didn’t think you would find your soulmate.”

Mobius shakes his head a little, but when he looks up at Loki, the smile that dimmed sparks back to life. “If I’d known I was waiting for a god, I would have kept the mortgage.” He tucks his head down. “This was probably a bad idea, wasn’t it? This can’t be anything like you’re used to.”

“It’s...not. But.” Loki forces themself to take another step, drawn in by the hopeful gleam in Mobius’s eye.

“But?”

Loki thinks back to when they were young, when they spent hours cultivating dreams that didn’t involve domination of the nine realms. Well, not only that. When they laid awake and thought of all the sweet nothings they would say to their soulmate and all the promises they would make. Back when they thought the universe still held some kindness for them.

They take the final step that brings them to Mobius and tells him, “I would like to stay where you are.”

“Even if it’s this closet?”

“It is... cozy.” Loki glances around. “Though I insist we redecorate.”

Mobius’s smile lights up his eyes, and Loki’s breath catches. They cannot remember the last time they made someone smile like that. Genuine. Bright. Happy. 

“So much beige,” Loki says, grinning. “Do you not see the value in a bit more excitement?”

“Trust me,” Mobius says, “I’m starting to.” He glances, ever so slightly, at Loki’s mouth, and Loki has never wanted to kiss anyone as much as they want to kiss this man in this drab apartment.

Loki starts to lean, and for a moment, Mobius does too.

But then Mobius worries his bottom lip between his teeth and steps away instead.

A familiar pang of rejection echos in Loki's chest. Even their own soulmate finds him lacking. They drop their gaze.

"Hey." Mobius touches their face, a finger under their chin, drawing their gaze right back up. "We should go slow, right?" He swallows hard. "I haven't... It's been a long time for me, and with you, I don't want to mess this up."

Loki wants to tell him that he couldn't ruin this, no matter what he did, but that would be a lie. The truth is much more complicated. Their souls are bound together by the cosmos, yes, but unfortunately the cosmos does not provide any training or instruction on how to sustain a lasting relationship.

Loki, themself, hasn't much experience in that matter. They've had their fun, but that was all.

"Is that okay?" Mobius asks, blue eyes like that of a baby fawn. Loki doubts they would deny him anything, ever. But especially not something they also want.

"Yes," Loki says, much softer than intended. They clear their throat and say, stronger, "Of course."

"Great!" That smile returns full-blast, brighter and more scalding than the desert sun. He bounces back a step. "I'm going to go grab a quick shower." He plucks at his shirt. "So sweaty. You okay for a minute?"

Loki shrugs and nods at the same time, as Mobius disappears into the bath-less bathroom. When the door closes behind him, Loki flops backwards onto the beige bed and stares up at the ceiling, flecked with plaster. The mattress sinks pleasantly beneath their weight. Loki thanks the realms that Mobius at least owns a decent bed.

The water turns on in the bathroom, muffled by the door. Mobius begins to sing. Loki hasn't heard the song before but doesn't need to, to know Mobius is singing off-tune and off-rhythm. A particularly bad note draws a startled laugh from Loki.

Loki glances at the door, wishing they could see Mobius's face, knowing he's wearing that infallible smile. A dresser beside the bed blocks their view, and their attention immediately shifts to a series of framed photos atop it. An older photo of a couple - Mobius's parents, presumably, is most prominent on the left. Their severe expressions do not match the tender way they hold the baby in their arms.

Beside that photo, one of a younger Mobius with longer blonde hair and no mustache sitting on a water vehicle, giving a thumbs-up. Loki smiles softly at him, at his beauty, though easily admits to themself that they prefer the Mobius of now - more gray than blonde, and the mustache. Dignified. Handsome. Loki thinks of kissing him again, and exhales. Going slow will be a test of their willpower, but Loki will overcome. For Mobius. For them, together.

The third photo is of a three-story brown building. Mobius's office? Loki rises from the bed to look closer, but - yes. Only a building, with no people in sight. A quick glance around the room proves no more photos. Why would Mobius dedicate one of his few photos to his workplace?

I guess I'd given up.

In the drab monochromatic room, the photo of Mobius on the ocean holds the only splash of color.

In the bathroom, the water turns off, but the singing continues. Loki listens closer, hears now how the chipper tones drop pitch at the end, and in that sound, so near a sigh, they recognize their own sadness.

Loki meets the stern gazes of Mobius's parents in their photo and vows to them, "I will make your son happy again."

The door opens, and Mobius appears, shirtless, a towel around his shoulders, and a pair of gray sweatpants high on his hips.

Loki's usually thunderous brain goes very, very quiet.

Mobius is not chiseled muscle. His shoulders are not particularly wide. He's not tall. But he needn't be any of those things. He is soft, sturdy lines, and stability, and courage, and the most attractive being Loki has ever had the blessing of putting their eyes upon.

Mobius dabs at his wet hair with the end of the towel. "Hey, you found my photos?"

The reminder of the photo of the building is enough to cool Loki's desire, though it still lingers, simmering, in the base of their being.

"Yes." Loki gestures to the offending photo. Mobius sees and drops the towel back to his shoulder.

"That's the office," he says, confirming Loki's suspicions. "It's a nice building, yeah?"

Loki tries not to let their distaste show on their face. Tries, not particularly hard. "Wouldn't you rather have more of your family? Your friends?"

"Oh. Mom and Pop didn't really care much for photos, and they're gone now." He doesn't mention extended family, or any friends - not even the protective work friend who tried to convince him away from Loki on their first meeting. Instead, he gives Loki a sad sort of smile, as big as the others before but so, so different. It doesn't reach his eyes at all.

Sometimes soulmates are very different from each other, practicing a running theory that opposites attract. But more often than not, soulmates share at least one or two very similar traits. Through these traits, they find common ground. Equal footing. A keystone that holds up all the parts of them that are different until they make a bridge.

In Mobius, Loki sees their own loneliness.

"Would you..." Loki pauses, unsure, but the kind curiosity in Mobius's eyes urges them on. "Perhaps we could have a likeness taken of us. To add to your collection."

The light returns to Mobius smile. Loki will fill this entire apartment with photos of them together if it keeps.

"I'd like that, Loki. A lot."

"Good."

Mobius goes to the dresser and pulls open a drawer. He withdraws a gray short-sleeved shirt and pulls it over his head. Then he glances over his shoulder. "You need to borrow something?"

Loki waves their hand and alters their clothing from their princely armor to a silk green sleep-shirt and pants.

"Woah." Mobius looks them up from head to toe and back again. "That's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Loki laughs again, and this time, they aren't so startled. With Mobius, they are starting to expect it.

Mobius glances at the bed. Loki does too. Then at each other.

"I know, technically here in Iowa, it's maybe too early to go to bed, but I've gotta tell you, after this kinda day, I really need a nap." Mobius rubs the back of his neck. His cheeks tint pink. "But, uh there's only one bed. I don't even have a couch. Oh! I know! I'll sleep on the floor." The man reaches for one of the pillows like he actually intends to remove it.

Loki snatches his wrist. "You will do no such thing."

"Well, I'm not going to have a prince sleep on the floor."

"Mobius," Loki says gently. They bring Mobius's imprisoned hand to their mouth and place a soft kiss to his fingers. This fragile, precious human. "No one is sleeping on the floor."

"Oh." The pink in Mobius's cheeks reddens - a beautiful shade. "What... uh, what about going slow?"

Loki rolls their eyes. "I do not intend on impugning your virtue. I merely wish..." Their nonchalance slips rather suddenly, and their voice fails them. Saying their innermost desires aloud has only ever been used against them. That they nearly did so, so casually, shocks Loki to their core. Careless.

Mobius folds his hand over where Loki is clutching his other one, until Mobius holds Loki's in both of his own. He brings Loki's hand to his own mouth and places a soft kiss to each of their knuckles, one after the next, mustache tickling the back of their palm.

"What do you wish, Loki?" Mobius asks.

With Mobius, Loki wants to be careless. But to do so would be to give him power. And with that power, mortal or not, Mobius could crush them, heart and soul.

"I can tell you what I want?" Mobius says. "And you can tell me if you'd like that too."

"Very well," Loki says, breathless.

Mobius kisses the dip between Loki's fingers and thumb, and says, "I want to hold you. Fall asleep with you in my arms."

Loki's throat goes very dry. Their heart hammers wildly in his chest. They wants that. So much. But... no, surely Mobius will realize that is a terrible idea. He will change his mind at any moment. So Loki forces themself to say, voice hoarse, "I could kill you."

Mobius shrugs. He doesn't deny it, but he also doesn't let go of Loki's hand. "I figure you would have done it by now."

"I could be plotting."

Mobius meets their eyes, but they hold only fondness, no suspicion. "Are you?"

"Maybe."

"Mmhmm." He pulls Loki's hand to his chest. "Are you saying you aren't interested in the cuddling? It's okay to say no."

Loki opens their mouth but they still can't say what they want.

"No worries." Mobius kisses Loki's hand and releases it. "I can still sleep on the floor -"

"You will not sleep on the floor," Loki says, the annoyance at such a thing finally giving them their voice back.

"Okay, okay." Mobius holds their hands up. He laughs as he draws back the covers. He slides into the bed and then moves to the other side, pressing up against where the mattress meets the wall, so that Loki can have the open side, without being boxed in. Loki could run. Mobius would let them.

Loki crawls under the covers.

They lie in bed, side by side, both on their backs but not touching. Loki doesn't know how long they stay there, staring at the ceiling, before Mobius rolls onto their side, away from Loki. It feels wrong - too wrong, and in the quiet, Loki tries again to find the courage to have their wishes exposed.

"Mobius," they whisper. If Mobius is already asleep, then they won't -

"Yeah, Loki?"

Loki swallows down their nerves. Mobius has only proven himself trustworthy. They are soulmates. Soulmates trust. "Mobius, I..."

Mobius rolls onto his back. He turns his head toward Loki and waits. He waits, and waits, and waits. Loki wonders if he would wait forever.

His patience is what finally cracks through the walls Loki built.

"Will you hold me?" Loki asks, and braces for rejection. For mockery. For any offer to be rescinded with a joke.

Instead, Mobius turns toward them and holds open his arms. "Come on."

Loki slides into the open spot against Mobius's chest, and Mobius folds his arms around them.

Loki's whole body relaxes at once, all the tension evaporating. Mobius is warm and sturdy against their back. His breaths are hot on the shell of Loki's ear.

"This okay?" Mobius asks.

Loki nods.

"I got you," Mobius says, holding tighter.

Loki waits a long moment, then two. They half want Mobius to fall asleep so they won't hear when they say, "Don't let go."

"I won't," comes Mobius's quick reply, slurred slightly with sleep. "I won't let you go, Loki."

Loki knows they shouldn't, but... they start to believe. And with that knowledge, that safety, sleep follows.

*

A thunderous knock sounds heavy against the front door, jolting Loki awake.

"Loki?" Mobius asks, rubbing his eye.

“Are you expecting company?” Loki pushes themself upright on the bed, heart racing.

Mobius frowns. “I’m supposed to be in Germany.”

The knocking comes again, louder. So hard the door cracks. Someone on the other side lightly curses, and Loki goes cold. They knows that voice.

Thor.

Here. Now.

“Loki?” Mobius sits upright too, and grips Loki’s shoulders. He’s so fragile, and yet so grounding. His hands are steady. His grip firm. He's as fully awake now as Loki is, and Loki can the concern in his eyes, even in the dark of the room. “Whoever it is, I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Only a fool would make that promise,” Loki says. “It’s my brother on the other side of that door.”

They expect the words to scare Mobius into rescinding his promise of protection, and they steel their heart against the inevitable hurt. You are never enough.

But Mobius does not look afraid. His jaw sets. His brow lowers. If anything, he seems even more determined.

A fool, for sure. Enough to make Loki’s heart swell. And their nerves prickle.

Loki stands, stepping away from the bed. Mobius quickly follows.

Mobius stood against Captain America and Tony Stark, but they were fellow Midgardians. Thor? Thor is of Asgard. Mobius must know he holds no chance against a god.

But he does not seem to care.

“Hide in the bathroom,” Mobius says. “I’ll get rid of him.”

Loki blinks. “Pardon?”

“It will be fine.” Mobius places a hand on the small of Loki's back and gently shoves them towards the tiny bathroom.

“But, Mobius -”

“Listen, Loki. You are my soulmate. Soulmates protect each other.”

“But -” Loki steps into the bathroom, at Mobius’s behest.

Mobius grabs the handle of the door. “He wants to throw you in some Asgardian prison or something, right? That’s not happening.”

“Mobius -”

“I’ll be right back.” Mobius winks, then closes the door, taking Loki’s heart with him.

#i wrote this #lokius #loki x mobius #wowki #soulmate au #part two!!!!!!!! #there will be a part three never fear! #avengers 1 divergence

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 6

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 2800+

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

A few days after your stroll with Steve, you finally had a day off of work, well, more like the next three days, which was a relief. Taking a stool at the kitchen island, you let the hot mug warm your hands. It was a long night with nightmare after nightmare resulting in little to no sleep. You would have slept in, but today is the day you were signing your lease. It was time to stop using your brother as a crutch and get back out into the world by yourself again. Now, all you had to do was tell Thor.

You blew the steam off your mug, hearing Thor come barreling into the kitchen, patting you on the shoulder before grabbing a mug from the cabinet. He has a huge smile on his face, pouring himself some coffee.

“YN, you will never believe what happened yesterday? It was marvelous.”

“You got laid?” you yawned, rubbing your eyes. How he never looked tired still bothered you. I mean, his energy was always way more than you could handle. It was like he was from a different planet sometimes. 

“Yeah, well duh, but besides that?”

“What happened?”

“Steve, you know, Steve--” you nodded your head slowly, wondering where he was going with this “--He rescued a dog from a burning warehouse, and now he has adopted it and called it his own. Here look at the pretty boy.” Thor reached for his phone in his pocket and showed you a picture of the dog. It looked like a golden retriever mixed with something else, but you couldn’t place it. “Steve named him Cosmo.”

“Aww, he’s cute. How did this even happen?”

“He heard a dog barking, ran inside, rescued it, and then got his ass chewed by Danvers. It was hilarious,” he chuckled. “Steve was like the building isn’t clear and Danvers was like don’t you dare, but then he was like blegh and took off--” he smiled, shaking his head to himself. “--once Steve took off, Bucky went right in after him. I tell yeah, those two are like two peas in a pod.”

“The adrenaline makes you do crazy things sometimes.”

“Yeah, but still, crazy morons.” He shook his head. “How are you doing this morning? It sounded like you had a rough night, and not to be harsh, but you look kind of terrible.” He pointed his finger at you, waving it over you as your mouth dropped open.

“Thanks so much for that uplifting compliment, brother.” You rolled your eyes, unable to hide the annoyance in your voice. “It’s fine, a few nightmares here and there, but it’s a take it day by day kind of thing, right.” He nodded. “But there is something I wanted to talk to you about?”

“What’s that?” Thor asked, taking a sip of his mug. “Darryl, my good man, good morning.”

“Good morning to you both,” he nodded at each of you. He grabbed a mug from the cabinet, stepping over to the coffee maker, which Thor was still standing in front of.

“What did you want to tell me?” Thor asked, not even noticing Darryl trying to get some coffee.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Thor, move. Darryl wants coffee.”

“Sorry pal, I didn’t see you there.” He smiled, patting him on the shoulder, and moved out of the way. 

Darryl nodded his head at you as if to say a silent thank you. He filled his mug and took the stool next to you. Thor watched him the whole time before his eyes connected with the clock.  “Oh, shit, is that the time. I have to get to the station.”

“I’m moving out,” you blurted out, forcing Thor to stop dead in his tracks and face you. 

“Ahhh...what?”

“I’m moving.”

“No, you’re not. I don’t want you to move out. Darryl--” he pointed at him “--Darryl doesn’t want you to move out.” 

You turned around on your stool to look at him. “While Darryl has been sleeping and living on the couch for the last three months.”

“Darryl doesn’t mind. Do you, Darryl?”

“Well, actually…” Darryl started, but Thor cut him off. 

“Darryl, please stop talking--” Thor held up his hand at him “-- I am trying to have a conversation with my sister.” He turned back towards you. “What if he finds you? Who is going to protect you?”

“I don’t need your constant protection. I can handle myself; besides, I started training with Val, and she has been teaching me a few things.”

“Really? Like you were protecting yourself when you were married to that guy for what...6 years. Yeah, real fine job you did protecting yourself there.” You glared at him, shaking your head. “And what about when you had your breakdown a couple of weeks ago, or how you just told me you’re having nightmares.” You bit your tongue, trying to hold back what you really wanted to say to him.

“Well, I am gonna leave you two to it,” Darryl started to stand up.

“No, Darryl, sit and stay,” Thor stated, forcing him to sit right back down. Darryl stared wide eyes at you and nodded to himself. This must have felt like torture to him, similar to when a friend is getting yelled at by their parents, and you’re like this is a nice wall.

“Darryl, it’s fine. Go and get ready for work.” He stood back up from his stool.

“No, Darryl, sit back down.” He sat back down.

“No, go, Darryl, you have to get ready for work.” He stands up and swiftly walks out of the kitchen to the living room, grabbing his suit and rushing towards the bathroom. 

“Darryl doesn’t even work today?”

“Yes, he does. If you would ask him a question now and then, instead of making him do your chores.”

“He likes doing them.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. It was like arguing with a child; once he sees something shiny, he changes the subject. You stood up and took a deep breath. “Thor, I’m moving. I found this cute little one-bedroom condo a few blocks from work in a great neighborhood. It sits in a nook with two other condos and has a top-notch security system. There’s even a neighborhood watch, and the price is too perfect to pass up.”

“But why move when you’re not ready to be out on your own again.”

“You’re the only one saying I’m not ready. Thor, I need to start living for myself again; instead of using you as a crutch that I constantly fall back on.” He shook his head. “It’s the next step, and I need to move forward.” You bit your lip, marching past him towards your room.

“I bet Loki would agree with me,” he yelled down the short hallway.

You stopped dead in your tracks and turned on your heels to face him. “That’s where you’re wrong, brother. He sided with me on this one--” you pointed to yourself  “--he wants me to move on and get my own place. He wants me to FIND myself again, but you...you don’t. You don’t know what it was like living with someone you thought you could trust. Someone you thought loved you and then...then he--” your voice cracks “--forget it, you’re not even listening to me.”  

“Sometimes, you’re just as stubborn as Loki.”

“Well, he is my favorite brother, and that shit is bound to rub off on me sooner or later.” You turned back on your heel and slammed your door closed. 

“THEN, WHY DON’T YOU GO MOVE IN WITH HIM THEN,” Thor yelled, hearing it echo down the hall to your room. 

You bit your lip and swung the door open. “MAYBE I WILL, OR BETTER YET, I'LL JUST GET MY OWN PLACE,” you replied, slamming the door again. 

_______

“Steve, I need to tell you something,” Bucky grunted as he bench pressed with Steve spotting him. 

“What’s that pal?”

“There is this girl, while more so a woman than a girl, but I’ve seen her on more than one occasion if you know what I mean.” Bucky put the barbell back on the rack and sat up on the bench to switch out.  “And man, she’s something else. At first, when we hooked up, it was, I’m not gonna lie, it was hot. The best I’ve ever had. I won’t tell her that because she’ll get all cocky about it, but now I am starting to wonder if I’m the best she ever had, you know?” 

“Buck. I don’t think you’ve ever talked about a woman like this before. It’s almost like you’re catching feelings for her.” Steve leaned down on the bench as Bucky started spotting him. 

“No, I’m not; besides, what do you know, man?” Bucky scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Last I heard, you didn’t know a thing about women.”

“Yeah, well, they can be complicated, but you’re telling this to the guy who was married before,” he chuckled, getting fifteen reps in before sitting up. 

“Why do you always use that line? It's not fair because I have no comeback to it.”

“That’s why I use it,” he chuckled as Bucky shook his head. “It shuts you right up.”

Steve glanced over when he heard a door slam from the locker room. Thor stomped out, wrapping his hands angrily for the punching bag. He grunted, cursing under his breath. 

“Hey, you alright, Thor? You’re really taking it out on that punching bag?” Steve asked, looking over at Bucky, who had a smirk on his face from watching him. “Thor, what’s up?” Thor made a face at them and continued to beat up the bag when the alarm blared, forcing them to stop everything, suit up, and get into the truck.

“Alright, gentleman, it sounds like we have a lady stuck in a donation bin. We have word she has been in there for at least 3 hours, and on this hot day in Los Angeles, best guess it is well over 100 degrees in that metal container. We will have to work quickly to get her out, so here’s the plan…”

______

On-site, Steve got out of the truck and followed Thor to one of the gear hatches. A few news crews were already on the scene along with a crowd of people watching from the barriers the police set up. He sighed, rubbing the sweat off his forehead. It was a scorcher today, and the inside of the bin was only going to get hotter for the woman trapped inside. 

“Steve, I’ve noticed you have a way with words,” Thor admitted, trying to find the saw.

“I have my moments,” he smirked with a half shrug.

“My sister wants to move out,” Thor confided, scratching his beard before grabbing the saw. “She found this condo.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yes and no,” he sighed, following behind Steve to the donation bin where Val was talking to the woman inside.

 “Hey, boys. Her name is Maggie Lang, and she’s conscious, but she’s burning up. She’s sweating profusely and feels like she could pass out at any minute, and judging by the increasing heat index, it is not going to get any better, so let’s hurry this up.”

“Maggie, go to the other side of the bin as far as you can and cover up with this jacket," Steve advised, handing her his fireman's jacket. "This will protect you from any of the flying sparks while we cut the hinges off." Steve stepped away from the container, shooting Thor a quick nod.

“Ready,” Thor announced as he turned on the saw and started cutting the door hinges. Everyone backed away, and after he got the last one sawed off, the door creaked, falling to the ground. Maggie was holding onto an ugly rabbit stuffed animal, looking very flushed and dehydrated. Val and Sam ran over to check on her.

“Whoa, you went in there to save that ugly thing,” Sam asked, smiling down at the toy.

“It’s my daughter’s,” she breathed.  “My ex-husband got it for her, and I accidentally threw it in the donation bin.” 

_______

Steve started carrying equipment back to the truck when Thor came up next to him. “The thing is, since you’re new…newish, you might not know that YN was married.” Steve widened his eyes at him. “Technically, she still is married, but she left him and ended up on my doorstep.”

“I see,” Steve added, narrowing his eyes, stuffing the equipment into the hatch.

“It wasn’t a happy marriage. It was destructive and took an emotional toll on her, both mentally and physically.” He ran his hand through his short hair. “I don’t think she’s ready to be out on her own yet. I mean, how is she even going to protect herself if he comes around?”

“Think you’re underestimating her man?” Thor stopped what he was doing, furrowing his brows at him. “She got out. She left him. Leaving those toxic relationships is the hardest part. Besides, hasn’t it been three months? If he knows where she is, why hasn’t he come around.” Thor nodded. “You should be proud of her and encourage her. She is moving on and trying to make a new life for herself without her ex.” 

“But my point is, she’s leaving again, and I don’t want us to lose touch like we have in the past. She’s always been close to Loki, so with me getting to know her again has been great.” 

“It’s not like she is moving back across the country, Thor.”

“I know, but we had a fight recently, and she said she was going to either move out or go back to live with Loki.”

“She probably didn’t mean it; besides, if she moves into the condo, you can go visit her anytime you want. YN is building a new life for herself, and you should be proud of her.”

“You’re right, Steve.” He patted him on the shoulder, a huge grin hitting his features. “I am proud of her. I should talk to her after this.”

“Yeah, you should.”

“You sound like Bruce. He is really good at giving advice.”

“Bruce?”

“He is the one that popped my dispatcher cherry. I’ll tell you the story sometime.”

Steve chuckled. “Sounds great.”

_______

You sat on the couch with Darryl on the other end, flipping through the channels, hoping something good would show up. Earlier today, you went and signed the lease on the condo, and you could start moving in tomorrow. It was a big step for you, and you were going to take it whether or not Thor supported you. You needed to do this for yourself.

“YN,” Thor shouted, entering the house, making you jump a little on the couch.

“In Darryl’s room,” you yelled back to him. Thor came in and stepped in front of the television, so you couldn’t see the screen. “Excuse me?  We were watching that.” 

“Are you positive you want to move?” He stepped over the coffee table and sat on it. 

“Yes. I signed the lease earlier today, and there's nothing you can do to change my mind.” 

“Great, that’s fantastic,” he nodded, giving you a thumbs up. “I don’t want to change your mind. I want you to do it.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened, then narrowed with suspension. “Why the sudden change of heart?” 

“I realized I was being childish,” Thor admitted, and you nodded in agreement. “I want you to be happy, and if this is what makes you happy, I’m with you, but are you going to be okay living by yourself?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, making him narrow his eyes at you. “But I have to try, right? I 

mean, the only reason I do feel ready is because of you.”

“Me, why?” 

“You convinced me to start over and make a new life here in LA. You took me in, kept me safe, and he still hasn’t come around. Sure, he called the one time, but that was it. I was scared when I left, but you helped me feel safe again. I still have a long way to go before I start to feel myself again, but I am getting there with your help and the friends I have made here. To be honest, I don’t think I will ever be fully ready to be out on my own, but the hardest step is taking that first step.” 

His face broke out into a huge smile. “I’m proud of you, sister, and I’m sorry about earlier.” 

You smiled at him and leaned over, pulling him in for a hug. “You’re forgiven, and thanks for everything, Thor.” You pulled back from him. “Oh, one more thing, I’m moving in tomorrow.”

“Great...yay...so soon,” Thor pulled you in for another hug, squeezing you tighter. From the quick glimpse you saw in his eyes, he wasn’t ready for you to go, but you loved how he was trying to support you.  

“So, I can have my room back, now?” Darryl asked from the couch.

_____

AN: Thanks for reading Part 6! She is finally moving out!! And Darryl just might get his room back! When I was trying to figure out who Thor's roommate should be, I instantly thought of Darryl. I mean, he technically is Thor's Earth roommate, right! 😂😂 So, Bruce popped Thor's dispatcher's cherry....kind of makes you wonder what went down, am I right? 😉🤔 And what about that teensy tiny little comment Steve made, any ideas what might have happened there?! Anyways likes, reblogs, and comments always welcome. Until next week...thanks again!

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x Female Reader #steve rogers au #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #firefighter!bucky #firefighter!steve #modern au #steve rogers series #captain america #captain america x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #firefighter au #Avengers #avengers au #avengers fanfiction #first responders au #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #thor odinson

[chipper9906]

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.

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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 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. 

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. 

Maybe.

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

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Eye of the Storm 8

Warnings: nonconsensual sex (series), unwanted touches, prolonged eye contact which makes me wanna believe in the Church and all it’s saint to ask for absolution.

This is dark!Thor and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a new servant at the palace of Asgard but the job isn’t so easy as you thought.

Note: Yay another chapter of the Asgardian bitch boys causing trouble for our reader (much like @lokislastlove​ is causing trouble in my dms)

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your days with Loki passed swifter than those with his brother. Your work was mostly uninterrupted as Loki left early and returned in the late afternoon with some tasks to attend to as he ate dinner. His orders were few as you brought his meals without prompting and he was content to his privacy upon bathing and retiring. 

In the time you spent as the Prince's chambermaid, you began to think it far preferable. Even if you were a pawn in his game, his treatment almost atoned for his purpose.

It had been less than a week since you had last seen the king and since Loki insisted that the king marry, it was his responsibility to see it through. Every single detail. It was Thor’s way of punishing his brother’s impudence. As the queen had arrived days early, the wedding was pushed forward. No longer scheduled for the day after her planned arrival, it was to be the day of. 

On the day of the nuptials, you brought up Loki's breakfast and he was already awake. He ate at his desk as he flipped through a ledger, an emerald robe around his slender figure. You stood by the door, ready to clear his plate when he was done.

He turned to you as he wiped his hands and stopped you from stepping forward as he turned a palm out to you.

"You know what day it is?" He asked.

"The day of the wedding, your highness," You answered.

"It is," He smiled as he stood and crossed to the large wardrobe against the wall. He pulled open the right door and reached inside. "All the palace staff will be hard at work, in fact I did have to pull a few hands from the streets to fill in the holes in the roster." He turned back, a length of forest green silk hung from his grasp. "My footman Bradin will continue to see to my brother and so I shall require you to act as my cup bearer."

"Cup bearer?" You echoed. "But--"

"Firstly, you must put more effort into holding that tongue," He warned. "Secondly, it is a formal occasion, not some feast, so you shall stand by, diligently, and keep my cup full. I have faith I should be wanting for wine quite often."

"Yes, your highness," You dipped your chin in deference.

"And so you shall wear my colours," He neared with the dress, "I shall provide you a belt as well and you might forgo that stained monstrosity," He pointed to your apron. "Your duty is simple, I've seen you faced with far greater. You will serve me and you will keep silent. Understood?"

"Yes, your highness," You answered.

Loki had a way of speaking which was gentle yet patronizing. He expected what he said to be heard and his desires to be appeased. He was far more subtle than his brother but in a way, it suggested he was far more dangerous.

He held out the garment and you took it from him. You folded it over your arm as he adjusted the belt of his robe and gripped his lower back as he stretched. He turned away, seemingly done with the conversation.

“You may clear the dishes and go change,” He commanded as he strode to the door of his bath chamber. “I expect you ready within the hour. Do await me in the receiving chamber. You might sit on the balcony and enjoy the sunlight in my absence.”

“Your highness,” You accepted and he disappeared through the door.

Those times when you left upon your own had become so foreign and were just another facet of serving Loki which felt strange. You couldn’t gripe however, even if that gnawing in the back of your mind never quite let up. It was like limbo. You didn’t expect to be in the prince’s employ forever and the inevitability that the king would put his foot down made you ever uneasy. It was only a matter of time and the minutes, hours, and days did seem to move quickly.

🌩️

When Loki found you on the balcony staring down at the ground far below, he frightened you. You turned to him and bowed your head. He was dressed in a black jacket trimmed in a similar gold to that around your waist. His dark attire made him look even taller and his green eyes seemed to glow as they carried their usual imperious glimmer. They took you in and he arched a brow.

“Presentable,” He remarked. You didn’t expect anything more as he flicked two fingers in a signal for you to follow him as he swept back through the archway. “The ceremony shall begin shortly. You will go to the feast hall and aid the other servants in the last of the arrangements as I ensure that the bride and groom make it to their vows.”

You nodded, thankful not to to be forced to sit through the long and tedious wedding rites. You’d heard that nobles tended to take hours to read them aloud whereas peasants could be married in a matter of minutes.

He spun back to you and brought his hands up just before your shoulders. You stopped short as he framed you with his fingers and squinted. He snickered as his facade finally cracked.

“You do know my brother is going to be mad at the sight of you,” He slithered. “Oh, I can’t help myself though. He has been rather unbearable in your absence. More than usual.”

You pursed your lips and lowered your lashes. A servant would never dare speak ill of any noble, even if humoured by another.

“Don’t you fret, he will have a wife to keep him in line and she is not the type to abide his nonsense,” Loki assured and turned once more as he led you across the room. He opened the door himself and ushered you through to the corridor. “Oh my,” He shut the door behind him and hovered his hand just beside your arm as he looked at you once more, “I did a terrible job at guessing. It is rather… snug.”

“It fits,” you assured him as you touched the silk across your stomach. “Thank you, your highness.”

“So long as you can pour wine, I suppose it does not matter,” He said. “Well, my dear, you best be off and I must hurry if I am to meet the cleric. Ugh, I do despise weddings.”

He waited until you moved to part. You listened to his footsteps mirror your own as they faded down another corridor. Soon enough you could no longer hear them and as you reached the stairs, you paused. You weren’t stupid enough to trust Loki but you truly couldn’t guess what he was up to.

🌩️

The feast hall was a flurry of activity. Instead of the long benches formerly facing the trestles, each guest was to be seated in their own cumbersome yet elaborate chair, with only a few of the further tables lined with cushioned stools. The golden cutlery, freshly polished was laid out carefully, and silk streamers were braided and twisted along both tables and columns.

Melora was among the hive of workers. She looked you up and down as you helped cover the last table with an ivory table cloth trimmed in silver and red. The king’s chair would be hung with his sigil and the new queen’s would wear her own.

“We’re all very curious about what has become of you. We only ever sight you when you’re sleeping or waiting on the cooks,” She said. “I see the king does treat you well.”

“It is the prince’s generosity,” You assured her. “I’ve since been reassigned.”

“Pity,” She gave a sarcastic frown. “I’ve recently been placed in a new posting as well. I get to sweep the upper floors now, I might just see you upon your own duties.”

“Perhaps,” You smiled, shrugging off the tinge of envy in her tone.

You carried on and found yourself in a sweat as Agnes called for the servants to assemble in the corridor. The high collar of the dress was damp, though even your bare arms felt smothered from your excess. As before, servants were selected to be servers and you were sent to stand at the table just to the left of the marriage dais. 

Loki would sit there with several of the high lords, a generous vantage of the bride and groom. You were suddenly nervous as the other women lined up with their ewers and a silence seeped into the airy hall. It was as if every single servant was holding their breath in anticipation.

When at last there was a sign that the feast was about to commence, you stood rigid and stared at the door along the other end of the hall. Your head snapped back however as another opened opposite it, hidden just behind the couple’s dais. 

You watched as a woman entered, her skin a rich brown and her eyes as dark as onyx. She wore a bejeweled scarf along her hairline, a swath of braids overflowing beautifully down her back. She walked with shoulders back and head high, the king emerged just behind her. Neither appeared happy.

You looked away at once, your eyes on the chair before you, where the prince would sit. The woman, the queen you assumed, Calla, whispered something as a chair scraped, followed by another. You felt the heat of another’s gaze and ignored it. Don’t look, don’t look. You knew it was Thor watching you, even with his new wife right beside him.

The king cleared his throat. “Bradin,” He called to the footman who shut the door they’d come through, “You may permit my guests to enter and have the kitchens commence with serving.”

Bradin voiced his acquiescence and descended from the dias to march across the hall. He had the doors opened and announced the commencement of the wedding feast, though all you could hear was the crowd without buzzing with impatience. You tilted your head and looked down to the double doors as the nobles began to pour in, you kept your attention on them to keep from acknowledging the king.

Loki appeared at the end of the table though you hadn’t seen him amid the influx. He traipsed along the empty chairs and dropped into his with a flourish. He let out a sigh and reached for his goblet, all courtesy for other guests was gone. He held up his cup, an emerald shone from his middle finger.

“Dear maid,” He called over his shoulder. “I daresay such tedium did make me thirsty.”

You stepped forward and poured. Loki turned his cup as you finished and glanced over at you. He leaned back in his chair as he craned to see you.

“I do like that colour,” He mused. “You might keep that dress.”

“Thank you, your highness,” You lowered your chin and set down the ewer before stepping back.

Loki sat straight and watched the other nobles as they searched around for their seats, directed by the servants in livery appointed to the task of sorting the bodies. It was some time before all had stilled and yet they continued to chatter. The ruckus continued until a horn blew from the front of the hall and all looked to find their king standing beside Bradin who held a twisted golden horn.

Thor squared his shoulders and peered staunchly around the room, his subjects in communal awe and shame. He barely looked a man on his wedding day. 

“I will make it brief as we’ve all been so impatient for this feast,” Thor began. “So I will do no more than welcome my wife and queen, Calla, to her new kingdom and home. May the fates make our marriage a long and prosperous one.”

He raised his glass to Calla and drank. Fandral stood to your right and cheered, encouraging the rest of the nobles to break out in an uproar, clinking their cups and hollering. Thor sat and his wife attempted a smile at him. You wondered how he’d so quickly built such a wall between them as the woman hid her irritation with a sip of her own wine.

Servants appeared with trays full of food and the frivolity began. Guests were all too happy to indulge in both drink and roasted elk. Loki picked at his plate as he seemed disinterested in much of the affair. He sent the occasional glance to his brother, you suspected to make sure he had not riled his wife, and then returned to poking at his supper.

He placed his fork down and beckoned you forth with a finger. He grabbed his cup and held it for you to fill. You took the pitcher and poured carefully. You felt a brush along your thigh and then fingertips pressed to your hip. You looked down as Loki gripped your hip and purred a thank you.

The pitcher hit the lip of the cup and you spill some onto the prince’s dark trouser. You righted the jug and set it down as you reached for the cloth napkin untouched on the table.

“I’m so sorry, your highness,” You sputtered. “I didn’t--”

You began to daub at his tunic hem where crimson droplets had speckled and your hand thoughtlessly slipped lower as you tried to mop up the rest in his lap. He grabbed your hand and held it against his crotch, just for a moment, then slowly nudged it away.

“Now, now, your thoroughness does exceed propriety,” He was smirking as you recoiled and his green eyes flitted over to the royal dais. “What shall people think?”

Your gaze followed his and you found Thor watching you. His expression told you he had witnessed the entire disastrous encounter. You wrung the napkin in your hands and apologized once more before you stepped back against the wall. Loki took another napkin and chuckled as he wiped himself dry.

You bit your lip as you stared at the legs of the prince’s chair. You wanted to dissolve into air. Wanted to be nothing. You fought not to show your distress. 

“Oh, my brother is a simple man,” Loki spoke over his shoulder, “Even a wife cannot distract him so long.”

You looked up again. Loki nodded to the royal table and once more you dared to peek. The king had one arm around the back of his wife’s chair and the other fought hers in her lap. He groped her thigh as he pressed his lips to her cheek. His assault was out of place as he barely seemed to notice her at the same time as his eyes clinged to yours. As your gaze met his, he grinned and hugged Calla until she slapped his arm.

“Oh, this might have been a disastrous mistake,” Loki sneered. “But it is no longer my mistake.”

You shook your head and glared at Loki. You weren’t surprised that this marriage was much more than political ploy for him but you were repulsed by how easily he used those around him. You were a servant, you were meant to be used but Thor? His own brother? For all your distaste of the lecherous king, you couldn’t help but pity his familial binds.

“More wine,” Loki called as he raised his cup again. “And this time, do try not to make such a mess.”

You came forward and filled his cup again. Your eyes went back to the dais without thinking. Thor still watched you and his grin only grew as he caught your gaze. The hand not thrust between his wife’s legs went to the back of her head and he turned her forcefully. He pushed his lips to hers, the entire time he never looked away from you. 

You weighed the pitcher and lowered your head.

“Your highness, I should fetch some more wine,” You raised the ewer as you spoke.

“Oh, please do,” Loki bid. “Before our king decides to consummate his marriage before the entire court.”

🌩️

The rest of the feast went on much the same. Loki kept finding reasons to call for more wine and his fingertips found new places to dance as his eyes taunted his brother. Thor was trouble enough as he harassed his own wife who was less than impressed by her new husband. You wondered if it were too late for her to absolve the union.

Thor and Calla’s departure marked the end of the day and at last the guests could retire, many drunk and stumbling. You were starting to think they cared more for the nine courses and casks of wine than their own king.

You followed Loki through the corridors, weaving past the inebriated and the loitering. He seemed little affected by his indulgences or the evening as a whole. Yet the more you stared at his shoulders, you found yourself wholly irritated by him and the royal will. 

You were tired of it all; you didn’t want to be another plaything for these spoiled brats, you’d only come to sweep and change linens. You were entirely ill-fit to do both.

Loki swept into his chambers and you closed the door behind him. He went to the chaise and sat heavily, leaning on his hands as he looked at you and smirked.

“What a night. More amusing than I could have expected.” He said.

You didn’t say anything. You stared back at him and he lifted a brow.

“What is it? You do seem to be holding something back, dear maid?”

“No, your highness,” You lied as you folded your hands together. “I am merely awaiting my next task.”

“I prefer boldness to impertinence,” Loki’s smirk fell, “So I suggest you speak whatever has turned you so sour.”

“I am only curious, shall I ready your bed? Draw you a bath?” You hissed, filled with a haughty breath. “Or perhaps you are more like your brother than you would admit and you’d prefer me on my knees?”

Loki blinked and his lips parted. He nodded and hummed as he considered you. He stood, slowly. His steps were deliberate as he neared and stopped before you. He reached up and played with the collar of the dress around your neck. He leaned in and lowered his voice.

“Not tonight.” He said, “This has been quite the day. You are exhausted. You are not thinking.” He took your chin between his index and thumb and made you look him in the eye. “I command you to go and rest for there will soon be another day upon us and much work to do still.”

#thor #loki #dark thor #dark loki #dark!thor #dark!loki #thor x reader #loki x reader #dark thor x reader #dark loki x reader #dark!thor x reader #dark!loki x reader #fic #series #eye of the storm #au #mcu #marvel #dark!fic #dark fic

[castiels-majestic-wings]

Sixth Sense - Chapter 2

Paring: Loki x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2,165

Warnings: None

Posted: 31/12/2020

Thor had taken Loki to Odin, in Asgard. But you had managed to convince him to at least ask Odin if you can go in and try to get a read on his- Loki’s aura. You were waiting for his answer. He said he would come back. And if Odin permitted you to see him- read him, maybe even question him. You could find out why Loki did what he did. Maybe even change his view of things, get him to be the brother Thor had once told you about.

You’ve been waiting for a long time. It’s been three weeks since Thor went back to Asgard. You had given up, not expecting him to return. But that’s when you saw the Bifrost on your balcony appear. But it disappeared just as quickly, only there was Thor, making his way inside, his mission included your presence.

“Y/N, it has been a while, my friend.” he extended his arms with a smile before engulfing me in a hug. You pulled away smiling.

“It hasn’t been that long, not even a whole month” You informed.

“Time flows differently in Asgard”

“I know, I know. So how was the trip? What was Loki’s punishment?” Curiosity filled your voice.

“Odin, my father. He sent my brother to prison for eternity.” Your eyes fell, you didn’t know why you felt concerned about him, nor why you felt compassion. You were worried about him. Aura’s can show a lot of things about a person, and his- his was a spiral of emotions. Anger, hatred, fear and betrayal. There was no sign of any positive emotions when you first read him at the tower.

“But, if made it so you can go speak to Loki, but only if you’re under my supervision.”

“You got Odin to agree? How?! I was sure he would decline”

“I explained that you could read him, find out what happened to the brother I once knew.”

“When do you want me to go?”

“As soon as you can, my father doesn’t take lightly to tardiness” A giggle escaped your lips.

“Okay, hold on let me sort some last-minute things and ill be right with you.” You had sorted through the last of your current mission report and packed a few small things in a backpack before making your way back to Thor.

“Okay, I think I’m ready” you readjusted your backpack while walking to the balcony, Thor not far behind.

“You might want to hold on” Giving him a questioning glance you held on to his waist. “Heimdall, bring us up” After a couple of seconds the Bifrost surrounded you. You shut your eyes in fear as you could no longer feel the floor. You slowly opened your eyes, you were scared but glad you did. The Bifrost was beautiful. A rainbow of colour surrounded you before you felt the floor at your feet again. You gathered your surroundings before releasing your grip on Thor. In front of you stood a man, removing his sword from the device in the middle of the room.

“Welcome to Asgard Y/N”

“You know my name? Heimdall knows my name!” You grabbed Thor’s sleeve in excitement.

“Of course, I see everything, I know everything within the nine realms.”

“Everything? Does that mean you see whenever someone is trying to conceive a child?” Your bluntness shocked the men around you. “What? I’m genuinely curious, he’s seen everyone naked!” Heimdall coughed into his fist.

“Uhm, no, I choose not to watch anything deemed inappropriate.” He clarified.

“Okay, that’s calmed me down, I was worried for a minute there.” Heimdall smiled, obviously used to your humour after watching over you for so many years. Thor had escorted you to Odin so he could speak to you personally. To say you were nervous was an understatement. You didn’t know how to hold a conversation with a normal person let alone a king. The walk there seemed long as if you had walked for hours. But in reality, it was only 5 minutes.

As you entered the palace you noticed how tight security was. Something must have happened here before Loki trie to attack us on earth. Thor stopped suddenly causing me to halt next to him. I looked up suddenly frozen, Odin’s presence, it was excruciating.

You knew you couldn’t say anything rash, you couldn’t question him either. You had never met someone with such a powerful presence before. You bowed without a second thought. I kept my position until Thor began to speak.

“Father, this is the Midgardian I informed you of. She holds incredible abilities, she might be the key to helping Loki” Thor's voice was followed by silence.

“And what makes you think she is capable of helping Loki” Odin's voice boomed through the halls, creating an echo that made me flinch.

“She explained her thoughts on his actions without even speaking to him. I believe she will be a great asset”

“I already permitted you to bring her here, she is under your supervision, Thor. If anything were to happen to, her blood is on your hands”

“Yes, Father. Thank you.” Thor bowed his head and turned, signalling me to do the same. Not allowing him to think you were a coward, you spoke.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, I shall try my best to make Loki the son you once knew. Please, put your faith in me. I will not fail!”

“Make sure you do not fail me, otherwise Loki will be the least of your troubles.” Odin snarled, obviously displeased with your presence.

“Yes of course” A small smile made it to your face before you bowed once more, taking your leave. Thor had escorted you to the prisons. Loki’s cell was to the left of the stairway as you entered. Loki had noticed you straight away.

“Brother! My my, what do we have here. The Midgardian that stayed hidden.” The smirk on his face was mischievous, much like his personality. The God of Mischief. You stood in front of his cell with Thor to your right.

“I’m a tactician I stay on the sidelines.” You were unable to place the confidence that took over your body, but you could bite back.

“Oh, but you’re much more than that.” Loki placed his forearm on the forcefield leaning on it. “You’re different, definitely Midgardian, but how you read me without my speaking was glorious.”

“Good so you know why I’m here.” His smirk fell off his face. “Don’t bother trying to hurt me, Thor will not leave my side. You won’t be able to attack me.” He lowered his arm and went to sit down on the bench in the corner. Thor opened the forcefield and entered, holding it open enough for me to walk inside. Loki glared at me, not wanting his deepest secrets revealed, by a Midgardian no less. You went to walk to Loki but was stopped by Thor’s grip on your arm.

“Thor, I’ll be fine, but if you want me to get a deep reading I need to get closer to him” I placed my hand above his as he loosened his grip. He tensed ready for any trick Loki might try. I walked in front of Loki and grabbed a chair to sit face to face.

“There’s a darkness in you that isn’t your own. It’s fighting your goodness, your natural aura.”

“Aura? There is no such thing as being able to see or read auras” Ignoring his comment you continued to stare at him, not losing eye contact.

“The colours, you’re naturally drawn to them. Greens and gold. There’s a hint of blue hidden within the darkness. That colour makes you sad, angry, frustrated. Why do you dislike blue so much” His eyes changed, no longer were they sarcastic and mischievous, but sad and vulnerable.

“Is it your heritage? Thor told me you were adopted. But still, you have a small similarity to Thor’s aura, you’re still Asgardian.” Loki saw in your eyes that you were nothing but truthful. Not one word that left your lips was a lie.

“What? No, that can’t be-”

“Why not?”

“I’m a Frost Giant, Odin stole me from Jotunheim as a Trophy, a way to bargain his way through if the Jotuns attacked once more.”

“Then if frost giants are blue, why aren’t you?”

“Odin altered my appearance when he found- when he took me”

“But you are Asgardian, Odin’s blood flows in your veins”

“I am not his son!”

“No. Not a son, but a relative of some kind.”

“How can you tell? You read auras?” Curiosity filled the room.

“People of the same blood give similar auras.”

“How can you be so sure?” Thor was eager to know, after finding out that Loki wasn’t his brother it broke him. If there was a chance that they were related- even distantly, he would take it.

“I’ve seen it, because of Clint. And his family”

“So Loki isn’t my brother? But a relative?”

“Yes, I can’t say what exactly but I could ask Odin. He might know something about this”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive-” I looked up at Thor. “I must speak to your father, alone.” You urged. Both Thor and Loki looked your direction. Both equally as confused and curious.

“Father does not allow just anyone to be alone with him.”

“I’m not just anyone” A smirk appeared on your face, much like Loki's when he knows- thinks he's won. “Let’s go have a chat with the Allfather” You stood from your position, Thor following before opening the cell. After you exited Loki looked at you curiously, with a hint of hope in his eyes.

“I will find out the Truth for you- even if I can’t tell you myself” He could tell you were sincere. Why would anyone be willing to do this for him? It intrigued him. He kept his gaze on you until he could no longer see your form. As you entered the great hall you had asked Thor to wait outside. Odin looked at you curiously seeing you make your way towards him alone.

“Odin, I must speak with you privately.”

“Privately? No one shall speak to me privately unless its Frigga or Thor”

“It’s about Loki’s origin. Unless you want the guards to know his birth mother, I suggest we have our privacy.” Odin’s eye widened, you hit a nerve. He signalled the guards to leave, and it stayed silent until he knew no one could hear us.

“What do you know Midguardian?”

“I know that Loki- even if his father is a frost giant, his mother was Asgardian. How she is related to you I’m not sure. But its royal blood- your blood.”

“How did you find this information?”

“Thor told you that I read auras correct?” Odin nodded, deeming the silence necessary. “Well families, that share the same blood have similar auras. And his aura- his Asgardian aura, is similar to Thor’s and your own. What can you tell me?”

“Who his mother is doesn’t matter”

“I assume she’s either dangerous or dead. Or both.” Odin seemed uneasy.

“I won’t tell either of them. Any information you tell me right now I won’t tell Thor or Loki”

“And why my dear, should I trust you”

“If you want me to clear his darkness, I must know everything”

“Not a word, to anyone other than myself”

“You have my word.” He sighed, composing himself. He hadn’t spoken about her in millennia, nor had he forgotten her.

“My daughter, Hela”

“You have a daughter?”

“Yes, My firstborn”

“So Loki he’s- he’s your grandson?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why you won’t kill him? He might be frost giant, but he is still of your blood” Odin was breaking. His shell was slowly opening.

“Does Frigga know?”

“No”

“How could you hide that from her? She- Her daughter has a son!”

“With a frost giant! She was already trying to overthrow the kingdom. Working with the frost giants- then she became pregnant with Lafeys child” He growled, angered by the memory.

“I see. Now that I know, I should be able to get a better read of your grandson.”

“You must not tell anyone of what we just spoke”

“I gave my word. I shall not tell a soul.”

“Leave” He ordered. And you had no reason to decline. You left the grand hall telling the guards that they could return to their post. Your figure leaned against the wall, your nerves catching up, making your breath heavy and unstable. You slid to the ground, seeing Thor approach you.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

“Yes- My nerves just caught up with me that’s all. Plus, your father is a scary man” A giggle escaped your lips making Thor smile, happy to know that you were okay. How were you going to keep this secret you didn’t know. But you had to- you gave your word. And you’ll be damned if you broke it.

Taglist: @lovermrjokerr @lucywrites02 @lord-byron

#mcu loki #loki odinson #loki lafeyson #loki #tom hiddleston #mcu #mcu fic #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfic #loki imagine #cazza writes

[slavicafire]

I always here about Perun and Veles being in opposition to each other. Something seems kind of weird about that description, ans when I look into it, it seems to be the Christian monks trying to wrangle Christian ideology out of the Slavic faith (a similar thing happened with Loki in the Norse pantheon)

Just sharing this as some interesting thoughts and what you think of it.

oh but there is hardly anything strange to it, on the contrary: this dichotomy and divine opposition is the main driving force for most polytheistic religions, especially indo-european - so as not to be as bold as to claim it is the basis for most religions, period.

and this opposition in case of Slavs (as far as we know) is not good versus evil - neither it claims to be - and only that particular simplifying assumption could be assigned to Christians. but then... not even that, not fully: we know from many an account that pagan Slavs were known as people who’d worship complex and puzzling in their nature entities: the faces of benevolent gods would quickly turn into strange and dangerous devils, and be worshipped still... or even more through it. those who wrote about these beliefs recognised this dichotomy and would be often baffled at the idea of good vs evil in regards to divinity being much less clear and obvious for Slavs.  

and while I have no way of knowing which aspects exactly you deem to be the interpretation of Christian monks or scholars, I can assure you that it is not their position on the subject that is most telling - but the dynamics of the folk beliefs themselves, after they’ve become a mix of old and new. so once we abandon the idea that opposition itself clearly poses one as Good and one as Evil, the dynamic becomes much clearer and does not even necessitate excessive use of the tools crucial for comparative mythology. 

folk christianity is one of the greatest sources of our knowledge about the pagan faiths that flourished on these lands before the gospel of Christ was introduced - and before it was taken into the hearts and cottages of common people. because these people, even after they’ve got baptised and built churches on their hills, still were in-between both beliefs: it was good and glorious to praise the Lord, yes, but they all recognised somewhere deep in their hearts that the Devil deserves a bit as well, and often saw the relation between God and Devil more as a cheeky rivalry than a damning and terrifying fight between the Absolute and the Evil itself. they were buddies, kind of - but the Devil would often be sneaky and shady, and the God could be blinded by his own power and oblivious to some things. 

and in these folk stories we can see the reflection of Perun and Veles - one of them, of course, more trustworthy to simple people who wouldn’t want to meddle with the dubious underworld too much, but both of them essential and both of them useful. stories of world creation and divine rivalry that on one hand served as a way of explaining the concepts that surrounded these people and brought them into the existence that they knew, but on the other serving as entertainment and a way to bring the new religion closer - to have a folk-God as much as a folk-Devil, in the same way their ancestors did.

and these folk beliefs accepted the cult of Mary and saints with such an open, eager heart as well, mainly because they carried the echoes of old practices they knew and understood.

so again, the clear division into good vs evil would indeed be a Christian concept - as I assume this is what you had in mind - but we should not interpret the word opposition itself like this, as for nearly all those studying Slavic myths now and before, it was understood much more as rivalry - a necessary one, too, and quite often amusing. 

a wonderful subject to discuss, too - thank you. 

#Anonymous

[aurorawest]

[this ask contains ep 3 Loki spoilers, please don’t read or answer if you have not seen the episode yet!]

HI! Sorry for that but I’d hate to ruin anything for anyone! I was just curious how many similarities you see between the Loki in your fics (whose characterisation I love!!) and the Loki in the Disney + show? And what are they? I was also curious if you see any traits of your Loki reflected in Sylvie, I know personally during episode 3 when Sylvie lost her temper and just screamed with her magic that reminded me a little bit of the more 2013 era Loki and I was wondering if you could see your Loki doing something like that? Perhaps if he were to get frustrated by Thors self sacrificing nature and he isn’t quite sure how to express his worry so he just feels anger?

SORRY! Super long ask and kinda confusing I hope it makes sense

Oh gosh, so many similarities. Like...to the point where I'm like, are the showrunners reading my fic? JOKE, JOKE, I KNOW THEY AREN'T.

From a general character perspective, the show matches up really, really well with my version of him in my main fic verse, IMO. Honestly, I should watch the episodes again and make a list, because full disclosure, I've only watched each of them once. Anyway here's what I can think of without watching them all again:

The idea that his villainy is an illusion and a role he feels he has to play

The speechifying being related to playing this part

He doesn't enjoy hurting people

He's actually super sarcastic and funny all the time, and that his sense of humor is quite dark

He's mischievous! And a little shit a lot of the time, too

That he loves his family and Asgard very very much

Related, he has the capacity to care about people, like Mobius

His tendency to start talking and then just like...not stop. I have a number of instances where he does this in my fic

That part where he cries when he finds out about Ragnarok and then goes to Mobius and is like, yeah it's really sad, whatevs—that refusal to let people see who he really is or how he really feels

He's tech savvy. I have a scene in one of my upcoming fics where he works out how to drive a manual car in about three minutes. And just like, generally speaking, I make him capable of figuring out how to use stuff. Tbh this is less of a character similarity and more of a handwave, but it is a similarity.

There are also really specific things, like:

His speech patterns—though he's actually a bit more informal than I write him, saying 'cool' and 'yeah' and whatnot, which I'm now trying to incorporate more, haha

Specific physical mannerisms. When he leans against the lockers with his arms crossed over his chest in episode 2? His feet up on Mobius's desk? His fidgeting with the Tesseract? I write stuff like that all the time. Also: his little wave to the security dude he chucks out the window, that's literally in the chapter I just posted (and it was not something I added, it's from the original draft)

When Sylvie says 'love is hate' and he gets the quill out, mocking her? Wrote something very similar about a month ago:

“‘Not the worst idea.’” Strange smiled. “Put that on my tombstone. Here lies Stephen Vincent Strange: one time, he came up with an idea that Loki thought wasn’t the worst.”

Loki laughed and conjured a notebook and pen from his pocket dimension. Very seriously and laboriously, he began writing, then said, “Sorry, could you repeat that? I want to get it down so I don’t make any mistakes. You can check my spelling when I’m done.”

Loki speaking Latin

Loki's relationship with Mobius so far is very similar to the dynamic that I write between Loki and Strange. And I know I don't have the vast majority of that stuff posted yet, but it's like...yeah. I love Mobius and I love the dynamic between him and Loki but at the same time, it's immensely frustrating, because I want it to be Stephen and it's how I write the two of them, haha

"Love is a dagger" is a metaphor I wrote (full disclosure, not in those exact words) over a year ago in a scene close to the end of The General Mess and Imprecision of Feeling

His teariness

I know I'm forgetting things because I'm constantly thinking, 'omg I wrote that in X fic' as I'm watching the episodes, but that's off the top of my head.

I don't really see a lot of my Loki's traits reflected in Sylvie, no, beyond like, the sarcasm and the sass. She's definitely a much harder character than my Loki, who has, after all, been through his redemption arc in the MCU.

Though, re: Sylvie's scream, I absolutely wrote Loki screaming in frustration recently (before the ep aired, too):

Loki bit his lip. Ah. Right. Yes. He had turned off his phone after the visit to the Sanctum, because he hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone. He’d actually taken The Bifrost off Earth, flown all the way past the twin dwarf planets Pluto and Charon and into the Oort Cloud. There, he’d put the ship on autopilot to avoid any stray ice chunks, spun around in his chair, and screamed himself hoarse.

Had it helped? Debatable. Briefly, perhaps. It had made his throat hurt.

I just noticed the 'Did that help?' language is echoed here too, haha. Swear to god, I wrote this like 2-3 weeks ago.

Thanks for asking!

#loki series #loki head canon

[lokislittlesigyn]

OG616 : Thor: The Dark World - Pt.2 [Isolation]

[My masterlist, where all parts of this and my other fics can be found]

Pairing: Loki / Sigyn (basically an oc based off the marvel/myth namesake)

Warnings: None. again, unless you want a warning for sad sigyn and loki

Author’s Note: This one’s a bit longer. Apologies in advance for me being such a horse girl, I can’t help myself.

Taglist: @high-functioning-lokipath , @onaheroicmission

To be added to the taglist, just ask me here or send a message! <3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Frigga left, Sigyn looked around her room. With the exception of her dirty riding boots off in the corner and a few books and papers lying around, the room was practically untouched, as intended.

What would he want?

She paced a moment. Stopped. The bed… She smoothed her fingertips over the soft, velvety bedspread. Deep sapphire, with silvery accents. She smiled slowly, thinking of countless lazy mornings spent under it. He’ll like this.

She turned, surveying the room. Think. What will he be doing? Probably lots of reading… I should send him books. Where does he like to read...

She looked to their set of chairs and accompanying footstools, which were covered in a similar soft, deep blue fabric. Perfect.

Sigyn gathered a few more things: The book he’d been reading before his fall. A pitcher of water - and one of his favorite wines. A book of spells. Finally, she grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote a short note before folding the paper and tucking it into one of the books. Perhaps she’d do this again, in the future - send him books with letters, little love notes reminding him that someway, somehow, they’d see each other again. She clutched the book to her chest.

~~~~

Later, Sigyn went to Frigga, explaining what she wanted sent to Loki. The queen assured her the items would reach him, and explained she’d arranged for a few other pieces to be sent. Namely a bed, and a washing stand. But before Sigyn left, Frigga stopped her.

“Child,” Frigga said.

Sigyn turned, facing her. “Yes?”

“Please, do not seek Loki out. The Allfather has forbade you do so.”

Sigyn exhaled, nodding. She’d guessed Odin would forbid it - he’d be a fool not to. But then, perhaps he was a fool to think he could keep her away from him…

“I know.”

Frigga looked at her pointedly. “Promise me you won’t go to him yet. For now, these gifts will have to do.”

Silence hung between them.

“Promise me, Sigyn. Please. If you want any chance of seeing him, you must be patient.”

Sigyn’s shoulders sunk slightly. She nodded. “I.. I promise. I’ll wait. I trust you to tell me when it’s.. Suitable.. To speak to him.”

Frigga stood a moment, considering her words. “Good. Thank you.”

~~~~

Loki stood in the center of a crisp, white room. It felt sterile. Cold. Contrasting with what sat in the room - a bed, which he supposed Frigga must have had sent. It was plain, only having sheets and a set of plain pillows atop it. Perhaps Odin would only allow so much comfort. Besides that, and a washing stand with a bowl of clean water, the only other thing in the room was himself.

He turned to his right, faced the glowing orange barrier that separated him from the outside world.

Would death have been better than this? This life, separated from everyone and everything? Hatred was better than apathy, that much he knew. But isolation…

Could he find solace in it?

The dungeon doors opened. A troop of Einherjar, accompanied by a few women - thralls, by the looks of it - walked to Loki’s cell.

“Stand back.” Tyr, the Einherjar leader and seasoned old warrior, held his sword at the ready. The sorcerer at Tyr’s side cast a spell, and the barrier slowly receded, fading like an ebbing tide. 

Loki smiled coyly and stepped back with his hands held aloft. “Why, I had no idea you’d bring me gifts..” He eyed the furniture they brought in, his brow furrowing slightly. That chair - one from his bedroom. His footstool. The women brought in water, wine, and fruit, all set on a table. Another woman placed a pile of blankets on his bed - no, not just any blankets. His blankets. Finally, another woman set two books in front of him and quickly backed away, behind the Einherjar whose spears were pointed at Loki’s throat. 

“How very generous.” Loki sneered at the warriors.

“These are not ours,” Tyr said as the sorcerer re-cast his spell. The barrier flowed back in place, seeming to solidify. “They are from your wife.” 

Loki merely watched him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he kept his jaw firm, his expression unwavering. “Send my regards.”

Tyr gave him a look. Without another word, the troop left, the heavy dungeon door shutting behind them with an echoing thunk.

Loki glanced at the food and water, only now realizing how hungry he was. Touched the back of the chair - still soft. Walked to the books, picking one up in each hand. The first, he recognized as one of his favorites - a book of spells he often reviewed. He sat it to the side. The second, he realized was a book he’d been reading through before, though had never finished…

He swallowed. Dragged his fingers along the old cover, then tugging the bookmark gently, he flipped it open to the page he’d left it at.

A piece of paper fell to the ground. He caught it just in time, standing back upright and setting the book aside to unfold the note. It was Sigyn’s handwriting.

My dear husband…

Words cannot express my love for you, nor the pain I have felt in your absence.

I cannot imagine the pain and anger you must feel. But believe me when I say, you are not alone. You are never alone. Mother and I are here for you. 

We will find a way to help you. And in time, we will be together again.

I love you.

Yours always,                             Sigyn

Loki’s gaze drifted up from the note, to the barrier of his cell, then beyond it to the door.

Out and to the left. Up, until you reached the main level of the palace. Then up again, with a few turns, would lead you to their room - it was safe there. A place entirely their own, calm and quiet and familiar. She’d be waiting there - waiting for him.

She was probably waiting now, after Odin demanded she be kept there.

Both of us in isolation.

Loki folded the note, tucking it back into the book, which he left on the table. He walked to the bed. Grabbing the blanket, he brought it up to his face - his fingers twitching into a fist as he did. It smelled like her, sweet and warm. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent…

After a moment, he opened his eyes. Laid down on the bed, on his side, clutching the blanket in a tight embrace. 

~~~~

Weeks passed. Sigyn kept her promise to Frigga, never once daring to venture too close to the dungeons. Eventually, she grew bored of staying in the palace, where her good behavior would be on display for all the Einherjar, who were no doubt reporting her actions to the king. It had been long enough, hadn’t it? She could stand to leave the safety of Valaskjalf and venture into the city...

So one morning Sigyn slipped on her boots and sleek riding outfit and went to the stables. She could feel the Einherjar’s gaze follow her as she walked, as though expecting her to make a beeline for the dungeons. And as much as she desperately wanted to run down there as fast as her legs could carry her, she still had a promise to keep. She had to wait. 

She reached the stables just as the bleak morning gave way to golden sun. Breathed in the deep, calming scent of hay. She smiled.

“Princess,” A stablehand greeted her, walking one of the horses in from pasture. “Shall I saddle your horse?”

“I’ll saddle him, thank you.”

The boy nodded. “He’s out in the eastern paddock.”

Sigyn thanked him, making her way through the grand stable - a few friendly faces greeted her along the way, big brown and blue eyes turning her way, ears swiveling to catch her footsteps when she passed.

Out in the paddock stood her sturdy dapple grey horse, Villieldr. His name meant wildfire - a name which suited his free spirited nature. Next to him, a chestnut whose satiny coat shone the same color as rust: Sinir. Sinewy, his name meant, and his lean, muscular figure certainly reflected that. They were both geldings, and after so many rides together over the years, they’d become close stablemates.

“Sinir,” Sigyn cooed, and the chestnut turned her way, twitching his shoulder. Loki’s horse always had a soft spot for her. Villieldr walked out to meet Sigyn, his velvety muzzle blowing grass-scented air over her face. “Mm, I missed you too.” She giggled, gently pushing his nose away. 

Sinir ambled over, and Villieldr tilted his ears back at the approach.

“Hush, you baby.” Sigyn scratched under his chin, then turned to the chestnut. “Hello, friend. I’m sorry Loki hasn’t been around to see you… You must be missing him, too.” 

Sinir lowered his head as she stroked his neck.

“In fact… Forgive me, Vill, but I think Sinir needs some proper attention.”

After giving Sinir breakfast and a thorough brushing, then dressing him in the tack Loki had chosen for him, Sigyn eased into the saddle. She clicked her tongue, and he sprung forward, eager to finally be going somewhere. All the horses were allowed to roam the paddocks throughout the day on a regular rotation - and when necessary, stable hands would exercise them. But Sinir had, no doubt, been bored in his master’s absence. Loki was forever his favorite person.

Villieldr’s distraught whinnies carried over the wind. He was pacing at the portion of the paddock nearest to the entrance, snorting, with his ears pinned back.

“I’ll be back tomorrow!” Sigyn smiled despite herself when Villieldr whinnied again, and led Sinir down toward the city.

Through the streets they rode, past houses and merchants and taverns, down to the rainbow bridge. 

Sinir tensed beneath her when they approached the Bifrost, his trot growing choppy.

“Want to run?” She stood in the saddle, squeezing his sides - he didn’t need any other signals. Sinir moved into a hurried canter, then soon into a gallop, bouncing Sigyn down the bridge until she found his stride.

By the time they made it to the observatory, Sinir’s coat shone with sweat. 

“Ho,” Sigyn slowed him down, slipping out of the saddle once he was still. “What a brilliant boy you are,” Sigyn stroked his neck and he arched it, his head low. “Thank you for the ride.” She ground tied him, then walked into the Observatory.

“How fare the realms, Heimdall?”

The Gatekeeper stood with his back turned to her, staring out the grand window of the Observatory. Naturally, he wasn’t at all surprised by her approach. 

“Full of unrest, my lady. Raiders continue to pillage and plunder, souls are left lost without homes.”

Sigyn stopped next to him, crossing her arms. “I suppose there’s no way to help from here...”

“Einherjar have been dispatched across the realms. Prince Thor, as well.”

“And the Warriors Three?”

“Mm.” Heimdall nodded. “They fight bravely.”

“Do you see Midgard, Heimdall?”

“Of course.”

“How do they fare?”

“After the battle?”

Sigyn nodded.

“Humans are surprisingly resilient creatures - they will rebuild. Even now, Thor’s new friend Stark rebuilds his tower.”

“How far can you see, Heimdall?” She inched closer to the window, watching the vastness of the sky. Even during the day, Asgard’s light only shone so far into the endlessness of Yggdrasil. There before her lay an endless ocean of space, full of planets, galaxies, and nebulae. It felt as though if she leaned too far, she’d fall into it.

She stepped back, looking at Heimdall, who was now watching her.

“What is it you seek?” He asked, seeing right through her question.

“After Loki fell, did you see him? Were you able to see him at all?”

“No.. If I had, I would have told you as soon as I found he was alive.”

Sigyn shifted her weight. Wherever Loki was, for whatever reason he was with those creatures in that mysterious abyss, none of it could be good. Something must have happened there, something that inspired him to attack Midgard…

“What about now?”

Heimdall smirked. Turned, his gaze settling on Asgard. “Reading in his bed. He seems content, all things considered.”

Sigyn exhaled a relieved breath. “Thank you.. I may return, ask you to check on him from time to time..”

“I’d be happy to, my lady.” He offered a small nod as she left.

~~~~

That night, Sigyn sat at the table in her chambers. One half of the chair set was gone, now - thought the thought of Loki using his half of it made its absence easier to bear. 

She grabbed a fountain pen and a piece of parchment.

My love,

I took Sinir for a ride today. He misses you - as do I. Vill was less than enthusiastic about it, but he’ll come around. Perhaps you’re right about him being spoiled.

I hope you are enjoying the gifts, if you can call them that: they’re yours anyway, after all. 

Someday we’ll go for a ride together again. I’m sure of it.

         Yours,                                                               Sigyn

Sigyn folded the paper, slipping it into a book of poetry and setting it aside, to be given to Frigga in the morning. She glanced toward the bed. 

Empty.

It shouldn’t be empty. Not now, not when Loki was so close… 

“Promise me you won’t go to him yet.” Frigga’s words echoed in her head.

She had to be patient. But she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep that promise…

Sigyn grabbed a blanket and settled back into the chair, closing her eyes.

#loki x sigyn #loki fanfic #logyn #OG616 #thor: the dark world

[arandompostarchive]

SALEM - Ch. 4

SAVED WORK

Summary: In all the centuries of your existence, you had never been dragged out of hiding by another god, put in a superhero team and forced to save the universe. But it seems your luck has run out.

_____________

Your heels clicked against the ground, echoing throughout the dark hall. Tony didn’t really have much of a prison built, so the best he could do was some containment cells built in case some of the more powerful Avengers got out of hand. And that meant putting a lot of in between containment, and the rest of the Avengers.

That made for a much longer walk than expected. Tony and Steve had originally insisted on going with you, but Thor talked him out of it. Said Loki really wouldn’t want to talk with the two of them there. So here you were. Alone. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself, they knew that. Tony was still worried, in his own extremely sarcastic way.

You slowed down once you saw his cell. If it could even be called that. It looked more like a cage. One glass wall, designed for something a lot stronger than Loki. Maybe Wanda, or Bruce. Gave you a new respect for their abilities.

You could hear his voice before you could see him. “I think this will be your fourth visit Captain.”

He paused. The soft sound of your heels on stone bounced off the walls. “Or maybe the man of iron. It would be his second visit. At this point I’m starting to believe you—” He stopped the second he saw you. He was sitting on the small bed in the room. He stood up and slowly walked towards the glass. Toward you.

“So I didn’t imagine you.” He smiled at you, you kept a straight face.

“I’m just here to figure out if your telling the truth or not, Loki. Nothing else.” You grabbed a chair next to the glass and sat down.

“Nothing else? We’re not going to talk about this?” He kept his voice calm. It never faltered. You missed him. Part of you just wanted to talk for the next few hours. Spend who knows how long just… talking.

“No, we aren’t.” You tried your best to stay calm. Completely calm, but something about the way he looked at you. He was angry, that’s for sure. But in a more concerned way.

“I thought you were dead. You let me think you were dead?”

Now that broke you. Let him think you were dead?

“Well that’s your own fault, isn’t it? I needed you, Loki.”

He stared at you confused. He blinked a few times and his mouth opened and closed like he wanted to say something. Just couldn’t think of the right words.

“What do you mean?”

You scoffed and stood up. “300 years ago the entire town turned on me. Called me and my closest friend witches and were going to murder us. Where were you?” You were trying your best not to cry. Memories of Y/n’s screams. Your friend’s angry faces, your own father. Made you want to collapse. You weren’t ready to have this conversation. Not with Loki, or Thor. Or Bucky or Tony. Or anyone. You weren’t sure you ever would be. But here you were. Talking it out with the one man you thought you’d never have to see again.

And he looked exactly like you did. Blinking rapidly, slight red around his eyes.

“But they did murder you. You were burned. I lost you.”

You shook your head. “Well, I lived. You didn’t even stay long enough to see my funeral. You would’ve known I was fine.”

He just stared at you before speaking softly. You almost couldn’t hear him. Now his voice was shaking. Breaking slightly throughout his sentences.

“My father called me back to Asgard before you died. Or didn’t die, I suppose. I told him to send me back. Just to let me stay a little longer. I at least wanted to say goodbye to you. I didn’t know what they were doing until I got back. Your father told me you were already dead. The entire town said they had burned witches, I couldn’t find you. You think I didn’t look? You can’t be here, mortals don’t escape death easily. Not like that.”

You took a deep breath and sat back down. You remembered your father. He was a part of the court. You begged him to let you go. You were family. You begged and begged but he sided with the court. Truly believed that you were some source of evil. Of darkness. What hurt most is that he was right. Children of Nyx were not often kind.

“You know I cannot do anything.The Witch-Finders would have me burn with you. With the rest of the witches in this town. I cannot help. It simply is not worth the fight, dear.”

His cold looks.

“I’m sorry it had to happen like this, really I am. I wish you didn’t stray into the darkness.”

He never liked Loki. Or any of your friends, not that he knew much about them. After you had been imprisoned, he had stopped only once to talk to you.

“I saw that boy. The one you’re always with. I told him you were set to die. He only laughed. Left you, off to wherever it is he’s from. He said he would’ve liked to see you burn.”

You never believed that Loki would want to see you burn. But for the next week you were waiting for him to show up. Each sound of the gate turned your head. And never once was it him. Y/n was the one to snap you out of it.

“I’m sorry, Circe. I think he might’ve really left. I don’t know why. Maybe he didn’t know, but… but he’s not coming. I’m so sorry.”

Your father was there for every court session. You thought he’d visit you more. You thought he’d care more. You thought he’d look away. You thought he’d leave as they burned you. But no. He stared you straight in the eye with a look of pure disgust.

“You are on the side of darkness, you have played with fire and now you shall die by it.”

“My father?” Loki nodded. “My father helped burn me.”

He froze. Just stared at you. Before you saw a tear slip down his face.

“So you were alive? I know liars. I know all liars but when he said you were gone he was telling the truth. He said I would’ve loved to see you burn. I almost hit him. He hadn’t killed you yet?”

You shook your head. “I guess not because all the fire did was burn away the mortal half of me. Made me a god. Made me immortal. And I’m not exactly proud, but I had revenge. If you’d just stayed for the funeral. You would’ve seen me. You might’ve stopped me. You should’ve seen his face, Loki. The pure terror.”

He stared at you. “Circe, what did you do?”

You wiped a tear from the side of your eye. It didn’t help much.

“It’s Y/n, now. I owe her that much. And it’s not about what I did, it’s about what you did. So I need you to explain everything. Now.”

***

“Steve,” you started, “I don’t think he’s lying.” Everyone was waiting for you to answer back in the meeting room. Everyone being Tony, Thor, Fury, Maria, and Steve. And half of them weren’t happy about this.

Steve stared at you. You weren’t really one to disguise your opinions, so you stared right back.

“Okay, and what is it he said, exactly?” Fury asked.

“He said that he didn’t just leave, once He and Thor got to Earth. He said he was attacked by the same woman we saw. He said she wanted the tesseract, but he hid it, he’s not sure where it is and he didn’t want her to take it.”

Tony sighed, “So this random, magical woman we know nothing about is super evil and trying to do what? Conquer the world? That could be a complete lie, we know absolutely nothing about that woman. She could be someone he hired for all we know.”

You shake your head, “I don’t know, Tony.” You sat down in a nearby chair. “From his description, and what I briefly saw, it sounds like Ker.”

Tony looked confused. “Care about what?”

“No, Ker. She’s one of my sisters, the Goddess of violent death, she’s not a very nice person. And there’s nothing she likes more than misery and death. Getting the tesseract could help her do that, though I’m not sure how.”

Fury nodded along, “Well she disappeared right? Why does she need the tesseract if she’s a teleporting Goddess?”

You thought about it for a second, “It’s not exactly teleporting. She can go to places where people are about to violently die to take their soul, and since that’s sadly pretty constant, she can leave at any time. But she has almost no control where she ends up.”

“So the tesseract is a perfect addition to her abilities?” Steve asked.

You nodded slowly, “Well, yes. But she’s waited this long to start caring about it? Why now?”

Tony shrugged, “Maybe she knew it was on Earth?”

You weren’t sure. The tesseract has technically been on Earth before. Why has she waited this long to make any sort of effort to get it.

“Well, we need to look into this then.” Fury started, “Y/n if you really believe he isn’t lying, keep him in the compound. He’s still a threat, so try to see if you and Strange can figure out a way to make sure he won’t leave. He needs monitoring. And if he’s right, if death itself really is trying to get it’s hands on the tesseract, he and Y/n might be the only people who know anything about her and whatever she’s doing. We need to figure out where he was. Until then, you can vote on whether he needs to be in a cell or not.”

Steve looked at him then back at Tony who only shrugged again in response. “Absolutely not. He’s a wanted criminal.”

Fury’s expression didn’t change. “Well, so was the Winter Soldier, and you went against your own team to support him.”

Steve scoffed, “That was different. He wasn’t in control.”

Fury started walking away, leaving Maria to finish his argument. “According to Thor, their situations might be more similar than we thought.” She walked out, following Fury.

Thor smiled a bit, “I know you don’t want to see my brother free, but—”

“But nothing.” Tony said, “He’s a criminal. I was nearly thrown off a building by that guy, I’m not his biggest fan.” Steve nodded along.

You sighed, “We can discuss this with the team. I’ll call a meeting.”

***

#loki x reader #loki #salem #saved work #fanfic

[lokigodofaces]

thoughts on loki ep 3: lamentis

under cut for your convenience

my first thought when i saw C-20 at the beginning was the Framework...i might be a bit too obsessed with an aos/Loki crossover...

C-20 was sorta able to find out something was wrong. from what Sylvie said, that's pretty impressive.

i wonder if Sylvie uses magic similar to Wanda's. like if Wanda just uses it on a bigger scale. the mind illusions thing checks out. and i saw on youtube that another patron looks like Evan Peters, so maybe they're connected? but most likely they just hired a dude that happens to look like Evan Peters.

going back to that, the glitch in C-20's illusion was like the glitches in WandaVision

if this really is similar to Wanda in canon, that means Sylvie and other Lokis might be nexus beings (y'know, the very thing i shout about in tags because i want)

Okay, so Sylvie tried to enchant a minuteman, which means she must have assumed the TVA operates on the same physics as the timeline. So neither Lokis thought magic could possibly be impeded.

good action sequence with Sylvie and minutemen and Sylvie and Loki

dudes...Renslayer can't fight. she literally did a horrible job.

Sylvie really thought the TVA valued Loki and that they really wanted/needed him to stop her. so she threatened to kill him, just for Renslayer to give the go ahead. shows how little the TVA cares and it echoes Odin.

Lamentis 1 sounded cool because that is a very sci-fi-ey name. It means the star the planet orbits is called Lamentis and the planet is the closest planet. That's how we name lots of planets outside the solar system. so i appreciated that.

okay, lamentis is literally just the bi flag. but still lots of purple so i will claim it as ace as well.

teleportation! and actual magic! yay!

okay, are they setting up a Loki/Sylvie romance? the way they framed the two when Sylvie tried to enchant Loki was how it's often done with kisses

Sylvie said with strong minds she has to do what she did to C-20 to enchant them, but she couldn't even do that with Loki. Which shows how powerful Loki is and how powerful the mind stone is.

i will die for more of Loki and Sylvie being chaotic together

Sylvie she said is an alias. Does this mean she is genderfluid but is female more often than male? i'm told some genderfluids are one gender more than the other, and i've considered Hiddleston's Loki to be predominantly male. Could Sylvie be the other way around? & born Loki but haven't changed her name? or have different names for different genders? and doesn't want to be called Loki when she's female because that's not her name as a woman?

literally i can't tell if they're setting up romance or sibling stuff.

i never thought i'd hear the word "savvy" from Loki. but, hey, if Jack Sparrow can say it, i'll allow it.

the effects for the gun that woman used look similar to Daisy Johnson's quakes. for a second i hoped for an aos crossover, but then i remembered that marvel hates it's non-Disney+ series.

i like the differences between Loki and Sylvie. Loki is less confrontational and more likely to mischief his way when Sylvie is more likely to rip the bandaid off and get it over with, if that makes sense. i think that Sylvie might just be so tired from living on the run, only going to apocalypses that she just wants to get it over with.

love is a serious theme throughout this episode. again, are they setting up a Loki/Sylvie romance? or will it be platonic or familial or something else?

Loki is very clearly not okay with the fact that so many people are being left to die, and i'm here for it

so the whole thing to get on the train i think is setting those two up to be a good duo. between illusions and enchantments, they can do a lot. and Loki was able to get them part of the way, and Sylvie the rest. i think it could be foreshadowing both of them needing to use their skills to work together.

never have your back to a door, i guess

Sylvie's reaction to Loki saying he wasn't told he was adopted. man, she was worried. she knows that that is messed up and i think she feels bad for Loki. she's probably imagining how her life would be different if she didn't know she was adopted.

sounds like Odin and Frigga weren't the adopters of Sylvie. Maybe the Lushtons? i don't know anything about them, just that Lushton is Sylvie's last name in the comics. so, yay for her for not having trash parents. unless they were, then sorry for Sylvie. at least they told her she was adopted. but if the Lushtons adopted her, how did they fall across a frost giant? especially the daughter of Laufey?

i've seen suggestions that the post man Sylvie is with could be Stan Lee since a couple cameos were of him as a post man. Maybe a younger post man, but he has less of a lifespan (if he is actually human in universe. i still like to think of him as the One Above All who just really likes to see the drama of things) than Sylvie, so she could be with him for a long time. maybe that's why Stan is always cameoing. he's just trying different things to try to find his love. and maybe he has a longer lifespan (he was in First Avenger) but not as long as Sylvie's so she still was there for most his life but he's dying soon. I actually like this headcanon a lot, i think it's sweet.

YAS BISEXUAL LOKI YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY I AM! but i'm also scared my parents will find out. they're anti-queer. my siblings saw it, & they aren't supportive either but they operate on an "ignore it" policy, so they don't really care as long as it isn't a big deal.

also it is heavily hinted Sylvie is bi as well.

yes, i will continue to headcanon Loki as greyromantic and asexual. deal with it. i will change my language from panromantic to biromantic since the director specifically said he was bi.

also, it sounded like the director might be bi as well. good for her, taking a character she saw as bi and literally making it canon.

i knew Tom could sing, he was on Broadway. but i had never heard him sing i don't think. he has a good voice. petition to make a musical with Loki. watch the episode "Duet" of The Flash. i want something similar to that. can Sophia sing? throw her in too if she can!

translation of the norwegian suggests romance between Loki and Sylvie

was i expecting an "ANOTHER" reference? no. am i glad we got it? yeah, that was a nice touch.

turns out "full" means drunk in Norwegian according to a youtuber? but don't quote that. Loki says he's full, not drunk at one point.

what were they serving on that train? Thor couldn't get drunk on Earth. heck, Steve couldn't. so it must've been a heck of a drink they were serving

ok, the dagger metaphor i actually really liked. could be a shakespeare reference?

the fireworks thing with Frigga was cute

okay, i don't like Frigga much, but this has confirmed that Frigga was, maybe possibly, better than Odin. Frigga at least believed in Loki. but then her betrayal was so much worse.

wait, i just realized. Loki gets a fight scene on a train. a superhero genre staple is a fight on a moving vehicle (bonus if it's a train). yay! Loki hasn't had this trope yet in any of his appearances. off screen before Infinity War, and i don't count his attempt to murder Thanos on the Statesman. but we can add that to his list of superhero tropes.

i feel like the TVA needs to make stronger tempads...

okay, Loki threw the dagger horribly because he was drunk, right?they aren't saying he has horrible aim, are they?

falling out of a moving vehicle is also a superhero trope...at least it went better for them than it did Bucky

i relate to Sylvie screaming in the middle of nowhere

Loki being gentle with Sylvie and letting her talk to him. gosh. i love it. was not expecting to see Loki from my fics make an appearance.

Sylvie explained the enchantment to Loki, which i think was a poor decision for her.

she said C-20's mind was hard to navigate to her original memories. maybe the TVA does something to the TVA agents that join them. maybe if Loki proved useful, they'd do it to Loki.

or maybe variants lose memory over time. Sylvie says something about her memory being like blips of a dream, but I don't remember the context. maybe over time variants lose their memories and only retain a few things. Sylvie is well down that process, Loki has had hardly any change, and those working for the TVA only have a few things to remind them.

Mobius absolutely was a jet ski enthusiast in the '90's when he was arrested, and he loved Josta.

Casey liked Boku juice, a sign he was from the '90's.

whoever makes the uniforms is from whatever period that style of suit was popular ('80's?).

if anyone isn't a variant, it's Renslayer. she knows more than she should, i'm sure of it.

C-20 likes margaritas now, i'm sure of it.

Mobius has an interesting relationship with Renslayer. I wasn't sure if it was romantic or what. Maybe Renslayer looks like his lover from the '90's so he is flirty with her because of the faint memories he has.

Loki immediately catches on to the TVA agents not knowing they're variants. they think the Time Keepers created them. he knows that, Sylvie didn't. this immediately tells Loki that the Time Keepers are messed up.

possible redemptions for Mobius? B-15? C-20? when they find out they're variants?

so does C-20 know now? she kept saying "it was real" when Mobius found her in Roxxcart. maybe she had dreams of her life before, and Sylvie showed her that they were real?

the whole scene in the city was wild. so much color, lights, people, action, it was wild

Loki being protective of Sylvie, helping her up and wrapping his arm around her, i'm here for it.

loved the bit where Loki used telekinesis to stop the tower from falling on them.

there was a bit where Loki and Sylvie fought & their moves mirrored each other and gosh that was a nice touch.

Loki's reaction to the Ark's destruction. standing there in defeat while Sylvie walks away. wow. Tom. you are amazing.

and what the heck why did the episode end there?

can't wait for the next episode

more of TVA being evil being shown, loving it.

really, is Loki/Sylvie a thing? i have a hard time seeing romance some times, so let me know.

can we please get a Kang tease?

great lighting & cinematography. beautiful. lovely. also good action. shout out to the stunt doubles since they don't get enough credit.

okay let Loki & Sylvie be friends (or lovers, i'm fine with that) and let them burn the TVA down together.

aaaaaaaaaaa how are we half way through?

also, have the TVA fixed all the messed up timelines yet?

oh wait i gotta talk about this. the minutemen don't remember their names. i doubt Mobius's name was Mobius Mobius Mobius. Casey is probably not his real name. The Clone Wars fan in me was already screaming, but now it is even more.

#loki (2021) #loki (2021) spoilers #loki (2021) review #loki laufeyson #tva loki #sylvie laufeysdottir #mobius m mobius #ravonna renslayer #hunter c-20 #hunter b 15

[imagine-loki]

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 38 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.     RATING: Mature   NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Ella used her seidr to plough the snow in front of her and compact it enough to have it easy to walk on. Behind her, the majority of the men left in the city that housed the Jotnar palace were with them, ready to assist people to leave their homes as a result of Laufey’s orders. 

“That is an interesting ability to have,” Greta commented. 

In the hour they had been walking side by side, neither woman had said anything to the other. 

“It is a learned one. It takes many hundreds of years of practice, then, by the time you die, you supposedly realise that you barely knew anything, to begin with. Or so I am told, personally, I think I know more than most considering my ability and age.” She smiled as she lifted her dress to step over a large portion of ice. “I rarely seem to use it for anything but convenience though.” “Makes one wonder why you would invest time in it, to begin with, if all it does is make things more convenient.” 

Ella could see Greta’s point. “When it is needed for other matters, no skill is greater. My grandfather, Bor, he was a seidr wielder too, it allowed him the power to defeat the Dark Elves, my father holds Gungnir because his seidr is even more powerful with it. The reason specifically why His Majesty was all too happy to take my father’s offer of an arranged marriage between Prince Loki and I was because, with my inherited ability to easily be trained in seidr, I bring with me a new ability to the Jotnar royal line. It is a rarely required strength but one worth having should it be required.” Greta said nothing for a short time as she walked along beside the Aesir princess. She thought over what Ella had said as well as thought over other thoughts that came into her mind as they made their way through the snow. One thought came to her more than others as they did but Greta did not think it something she could ask. 

“There is something you wish to know.” Greta looked at Ella in shock. “I can all but read the thoughts on your face. You want to know why I chose you, don’t you?” “Can you read minds?” Greta became fearful at the thought. 

“No, I just can read beings. I have been around too many for so long to not have learnt many things.” Ella explained. “With regards to why you specifically. I want to get to know you a slight bit more and you do not seem to want to bury me under several meters of solid ice, so I figured this to be as good a time as any to talk.” 

“Why?” “You like Helbindi, do you not?” “I do.” “And you do not overly dislike me?” “I do not dislike you in the slightest, I think you brave for not only coming here when you knew many would loathe you and you fought to stay and have done nothing but want better for our realm since you first set foot here,” Greta smirked. “And how you treat those who dismiss you is something I will never cease to enjoy.” “Being female is not a sign of weakness, nor is it a prerequisite to being such.” Ella looked at the frozen ground in front of her. “Is there supposed to be running water here?”  

“There was, apparently, before the war, it is long gone. How could you know that?” “When I use my seidr to move the snow, it gives me a general feel for what I am moving, in case there is a chasm here that I am not aware of, it has alerted me to flowing water. “Really?” Greta could not contain her excitement. 

“Yes, so this is good, for the record, Jotunheim is not defrosting?” “No, this is not good, it is a miracle. We never thought it would happen again, my mother spoke of it as an impossibility.” 

“Now you get to tell her otherwise.” “She is dead.” “I am genuinely sorry to hear that.” In truth, Ella was. 

“Without the Casket, any who get ill did not last long.” “Yet you do not hate me for my father’s actions?” “You did not take it and it was taken for the actions of Jotunheim, to be angry with the Allfather would require being angry with my father, who stood and slaughtered Midgardians which caused this mess.” She stated sadly. 

The silence returned for a while before the women had travelled what they could of the day. The murmur amongst those with them as to there being water flowing in Jotunheim once more lifting spirits as they did so. 

“Can I ask you something?” Ella looked over at the Frost Giant. “The customs of your realm?” “Which ones?” “The ones between mates.” “What of them?” “Who thought to ever do such a thing? To have affection for another so to attach to one another by the mouth. Who thought that was something to do?” 

Ella laughed at the explanation. “I have no idea. Loki would love your analysis on it.” “Did he find it odd at first?” “When I explained what two young Vanir in the gardens of the palace were doing, he first thought they were trying to eat one another and when I explained it, I think I made him at risk of seeing his breakfast again. He was nauseous from the mere thought of such things. Though, learning the etiquette of kissing the back of a hand served him well, I think that was as far as he could ever be pushed.” Greta frowned. “So, he never kissed you?” “Norns no. He sees it as odd, which I can see the reasoning for.” She shrugged. 

Greta noted the slight sadness in Ella’s features at saying that. “You wish he did not?” She ventured. 

Ella admonished herself internally for not hiding her emotions well enough. “In Asgard, it is normal, to not express affection in such a manner after a lifetime of thinking it normal leads to complex feelings on the matter. It is not of great importance but it is a peculiar feeling.” Seeing that the princess was not pleased with discussing the issue, Greta contemplated not speaking again before something that she had hoped to ask anyone Aesir or Vanir on came to mind. “Whatever about the mouth-kiss thing but what in the realms is it when mates use their mouths elsewhere? Is that truly something beings do?” Knowing what the Frost Giant was referencing to, Ella snorted a small laugh. “I am no use to you regarding that matter on an experience level, but I can say from speaking to women who have done it and from having read about it, it is common in many places.” “Helbindi has been pleading with Prince Loki to ask you to give him the book on such things,” Greta informed her. 

“I know, he tried to have Arden ask me too. The thing is, it was not a book but at least a hundred. Beings from different realms love to write in regards to sex and everything pertaining to the topic, I have found.” Greta found herself laughing. “He is adamant to know of it.” “And no doubt put it to some form of use.” 

Greta nodded. “Yes.” 

Ella smiled. “With you?” “If I am lucky.” 

“He does think a lot of you. I see him look at you across the throne room,” Ella informed her. “I do think he wishes very much wishes to be your mate and I think you well suited, not that my opinion matters any bit.” 

“You are an unbiased source, so I take your statement over that of others. You have no agenda to push on this matter.” 

Ella gave a small smile and got into the bed she had used her seidr to make for her, ensuring that Greta had something similar. 

“I have to ask though, with everything that happened with Býleistr and his mate, with how she was Prince Loki’s love before, how do you think this will go?” 

“If I am honest, I am not sure. I cannot pretend that this is all going to go well but it is not about how things are with Loki and his brother but about Jotunheim and the safety of us all.” Ella stated firmly before trying to get some rest, thinking the same herself. 

*

It took a few days to get to the location where they would part ways with the men. On route, they warned all they saw of the order from Laufey hoping the Jotnar would listen to them and make their way East to where they would be more protected. 

With directions to their destination, Ella and Greta began the walk alone, not thinking of much other than what was required of them on their journey. 

When they arrived at the location, Ella frowned slightly as she looked at the building in front of her. It did not look like a palace or indeed a grand house, if anything, it looked like nothing she had ever seen before in the flesh. It had the appearance of a fortress over anything. They arrived at the gates, unsurprised to see them locked. With only a flick of her seidr, she had them opened and walked in. 

When they arrived to the main door, it took even less effort to unlock them also. She looked around the bare hallway they found themselves in before thinking of what needed doing. Beside her, Greta looked somewhat uncomfortable.

“Býleistr?” Ella called out harshly. “I need to speak with you immediately.” Her voice echoed through the hall.

The sound of a door opening close by telling her of the location of the older prince. She waited for his arrival apprehensively. 

“Why are you here?” He growled as he came into sight. “How dare you come here and demand my presence.”

“I did not demand it, if I were demanding, I would have told you to get into my presence immediately as I was going to speak with you, not implore that I needed to, and, since you are asking why I am here, that answers if you have left here any time recently. War is upon us.” 

“What?” He demanded, his concern clear to see.

“Alfheim is at risk of falling, as you know, Jotunheim is the closest realm to it. If we do not prepare, we could be next. Loki and Helbindi have already joined my brother, the Light Elves and the Vanir. His Majesty wished to allow you a few days recovery before calling on you also but Jotunheim can wait no longer, she needs her third son to join the fray. The last remaining guards are gone to get the people to bring them to the East, if you remain here and they breach the realm, you will be cut off from the rest of us and will not last long against their magic, you need to get back to the palace.” “My father banished me here.” He snarled. 

“He sent you here to quell unrest, giving you time away from the talk of others with your mates, you know this was not a punishment, not in the true sense. We all know that were Laufey to command it, you would know the true meaning of suffering. Cease acting as though you will not return, you know you will assist with this, you were raised for this and are a damn good fighter who enjoys a fight so don’t pretend you are not already considering going.” She turned to leave. “Why did my father send you?” “Because the men are needed to assist those who need them, you are too remote to simply trot here and then continue to them. I offered to inform you.” “Why?” “Because, as your brother’s mate, my being here should show you the severity of the situation.” 

“How do I know this is not some sort of trick?” “You mean by my father to bring down Jotunheim from the inside?” Býleistr nodded. “Because were that the case, you being here alone and unaware of such things would actually have benefited such a plot, because I broke through your defences without alerting you until I called your name.” Býleistr frowned and looked at the door, noting that she had, in fact, done so. “Because if my father were to think of something like that, he would not give one single solitary care to you and your mates as you are of so little importance to him that he would most likely forget you and they even existed because as far as the guarding of Nine Realms are concerned; you, Býleistr, son of Laufey and Fárbauti, are so far down the list of issues he would see fit to be concerned about, that you would not make it into a thousand-page book of said list, I am sorry to inform you. I respect that in your personal thoughts, you are your paramount concern, as indeed we all are to ourselves, but to my father, the Allfather, King of Asgard and protector of the realms, you are nothing. I could obliterate you right here and now, so you cannot fathom what he could do but he would not do such a thing, nor will I, we need you alive to help our realm.” Býleistr shook his head. “I will not leave to help Asgard.” “Odd you should say that since none have asked such a boon of you.” “You mentioned ‘our’ realm.” “Yes, a you and I inclusive ‘our’. I am referencing Jotunheim, our home, our realm. I know you have yet to see past my appearance to see me as of here, but I am the mate of your brother, the children of which will be of Jotunheim, raised as Jotnar. All I do, I do for Jotunheim but you are so busy hating my skin to realise it.” She looked to where she could now see Alma and Angrboða watching them. “If anything, you should like me, I opened the door to you getting your second mate and talked Loki into not wanting to have you skinned for it. Now, get what you need and come on. It’s not a swift journey.” 

“I do not take orders from you.” “I do not take no for an answer, so decide now if you want to be forced back by my seidr or your own free will because we are going back to the palace and you will be facing your father, so do you do so as a son willing to serve him or as a man forced back who disobeyed not an order from me, but his father.” Ella challenged. 

Býleistr snarled for a moment. “What did you mean ‘It is clear I did not know’? Did you think I had a part in this, that I would do such a thing?” 

“I did not know, such as I do not pretend to know what you are thinking now with regards to how you wish to return to the palace.” She looked at Greta. “We have done as instructed, so I suggest getting a few moments to compose yourself before we return, however our mates’ brother decides he wishes to do this.” 

“So you expect us to just leave and follow you, is that it?” Angrboða growled. 

“I have stated that it is the order of our king, so on the presentation of such knowledge, yes, I do.” 

“You think we take orders from you.” “You take orders from your King,” Ella stated each word with enunciation and loudly. “You are not above him, nor are I or indeed your mate, lest you forget you are not the child of the king but the simply the mate of said child, the same as for me. I offered to come to show the severity of the situation and upon order from my King to ensure your return, I will follow said order should my last breathe be caused by it. Only I will not be at risk of such, for none will be so stupid as to challenge me on it. Now, I will ask you once more, please, get what you need, I can use my seidr so we do not need to carry it back and we can leave as soon as possible. Seeing you travel amongst those forced to flee will give them a sense that you are there for them, it will strengthen their thoughts, not just of your father, but of you specifically for standing with them.” She looked at Býleistr as she spoke the last few words. “They want to feel safe, you are a known fighter, you will make them feel so.”

Býleistr contemplated her words for a moment. “Alma, ‘Boda, get your belongings, we leave as soon as we are ready.”  He stated, walking towards his mates. “Stay here,” He ordered Ella and Greta. 

“I am going getting something to eat,” Ella stated, heading towards the area she hoped housed the kitchen. “We have not eaten since breakfast and we are hungry and I can literally smell the food from here and I am not leaving with an empty stomach. You pack, we eat.”  

#Loki #others #submission #imagine #Chapter 38 #wolfpawn #Pride and Prejudice

[wolfpawn]

Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 38

Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.

Chapter Summary - Ella and Greta speak as they make their way to Byleistr and his mates, forming the buds of a friendship.

Previous Chapter

Tags - @peppermint-j @damalseer @perpetual-fangirl @tinchentitri @inspired-snowflace @raphaelaisabella @alexakeyloveloki @caffiend-queen @devilbat @nonsensicalobsessions @skulliebythesea @majoringinlife @salempoe @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @rookienumber98 @ivytoh @agarwaeneth @rosierossette  @arch-venus25 @nessamaurice

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Ella used her seidr to plough the snow in front of her and compact it enough to have it easy to walk on. Behind her, the majority of the men left in the city that housed the Jotnar palace were with them, ready to assist people to leave their homes as a result of Laufey’s orders. 

“That is an interesting ability to have,” Greta commented. 

In the hour they had been walking side by side, neither woman had said anything to the other. 

“It is a learned one. It takes many hundreds of years of practice, then, by the time you die, you supposedly realise that you barely knew anything, to begin with. Or so I am told, personally, I think I know more than most considering my ability and age.” She smiled as she lifted her dress to step over a large portion of ice. “I rarely seem to use it for anything but convenience though.” “Makes one wonder why you would invest time in it, to begin with, if all it does is make things more convenient.” 

Ella could see Greta’s point. “When it is needed for other matters, no skill is greater. My grandfather, Bor, he was a seidr wielder too, it allowed him the power to defeat the Dark Elves, my father holds Gungnir because his seidr is even more powerful with it. The reason specifically why His Majesty was all too happy to take my father’s offer of an arranged marriage between Prince Loki and I was because, with my inherited ability to easily be trained in seidr, I bring with me a new ability to the Jotnar royal line. It is a rarely required strength but one worth having should it be required.” Greta said nothing for a short time as she walked along beside the Aesir princess. She thought over what Ella had said as well as thought over other thoughts that came into her mind as they made their way through the snow. One thought came to her more than others as they did but Greta did not think it something she could ask. 

“There is something you wish to know.” Greta looked at Ella in shock. “I can all but read the thoughts on your face. You want to know why I chose you, don’t you?” “Can you read minds?” Greta became fearful at the thought. 

“No, I just can read beings. I have been around too many for so long to not have learnt many things.” Ella explained. “With regards to why you specifically. I want to get to know you a slight bit more and you do not seem to want to bury me under several meters of solid ice, so I figured this to be as good a time as any to talk.” 

“Why?” “You like Helbindi, do you not?” “I do.” “And you do not overly dislike me?” “I do not dislike you in the slightest, I think you brave for not only coming here when you knew many would loathe you and you fought to stay and have done nothing but want better for our realm since you first set foot here,” Greta smirked. “And how you treat those who dismiss you is something I will never cease to enjoy.” “Being female is not a sign of weakness, nor is it a prerequisite to being such.” Ella looked at the frozen ground in front of her. “Is there supposed to be running water here?”  

“There was, apparently, before the war, it is long gone. How could you know that?” “When I use my seidr to move the snow, it gives me a general feel for what I am moving, in case there is a chasm here that I am not aware of, it has alerted me to flowing water. “Really?” Greta could not contain her excitement. 

“Yes, so this is good, for the record, Jotunheim is not defrosting?” “No, this is not good, it is a miracle. We never thought it would happen again, my mother spoke of it as an impossibility.” 

“Now you get to tell her otherwise.” “She is dead.” “I am genuinely sorry to hear that.” In truth, Ella was. 

“Without the Casket, any who get ill did not last long.” “Yet you do not hate me for my father’s actions?” “You did not take it and it was taken for the actions of Jotunheim, to be angry with the Allfather would require being angry with my father, who stood and slaughtered Midgardians which caused this mess.” She stated sadly. 

The silence returned for a while before the women had travelled what they could of the day. The murmur amongst those with them as to there being water flowing in Jotunheim once more lifting spirits as they did so. 

“Can I ask you something?” Ella looked over at the Frost Giant. “The customs of your realm?” “Which ones?” “The ones between mates.” “What of them?” “Who thought to ever do such a thing? To have affection for another so to attach to one another by the mouth. Who thought that was something to do?” 

Ella laughed at the explanation. “I have no idea. Loki would love your analysis on it.” “Did he find it odd at first?” “When I explained what two young Vanir in the gardens of the palace were doing, he first thought they were trying to eat one another and when I explained it, I think I made him at risk of seeing his breakfast again. He was nauseous from the mere thought of such things. Though, learning the etiquette of kissing the back of a hand served him well, I think that was as far as he could ever be pushed.” Greta frowned. “So, he never kissed you?” “Norns no. He sees it as odd, which I can see the reasoning for.” She shrugged. 

Greta noted the slight sadness in Ella’s features at saying that. “You wish he did not?” She ventured. 

Ella admonished herself internally for not hiding her emotions well enough. “In Asgard, it is normal, to not express affection in such a manner after a lifetime of thinking it normal leads to complex feelings on the matter. It is not of great importance but it is a peculiar feeling.” Seeing that the princess was not pleased with discussing the issue, Greta contemplated not speaking again before something that she had hoped to ask anyone Aesir or Vanir on came to mind. “Whatever about the mouth-kiss thing but what in the realms is it when mates use their mouths elsewhere? Is that truly something beings do?” Knowing what the Frost Giant was referencing to, Ella snorted a small laugh. “I am no use to you regarding that matter on an experience level, but I can say from speaking to women who have done it and from having read about it, it is common in many places.” “Helbindi has been pleading with Prince Loki to ask you to give him the book on such things,” Greta informed her. 

“I know, he tried to have Arden ask me too. The thing is, it was not a book but at least a hundred. Beings from different realms love to write in regards to sex and everything pertaining to the topic, I have found.” Greta found herself laughing. “He is adamant to know of it.” “And no doubt put it to some form of use.” 

Greta nodded. “Yes.” 

Ella smiled. “With you?” “If I am lucky.” 

“He does think a lot of you. I see him look at you across the throne room,” Ella informed her. “I do think he wishes very much wishes to be your mate and I think you well suited, not that my opinion matters any bit.” 

“You are an unbiased source, so I take your statement over that of others. You have no agenda to push on this matter.” 

Ella gave a small smile and got into the bed she had used her seidr to make for her, ensuring that Greta had something similar. 

“I have to ask though, with everything that happened with Býleistr and his mate, with how she was Prince Loki’s love before, how do you think this will go?” 

“If I am honest, I am not sure. I cannot pretend that this is all going to go well but it is not about how things are with Loki and his brother but about Jotunheim and the safety of us all.” Ella stated firmly before trying to get some rest, thinking the same herself. 

*

It took a few days to get to the location where they would part ways with the men. On route, they warned all they saw of the order from Laufey hoping the Jotnar would listen to them and make their way East to where they would be more protected. 

With directions to their destination, Ella and Greta began the walk alone, not thinking of much other than what was required of them on their journey. 

When they arrived at the location, Ella frowned slightly as she looked at the building in front of her. It did not look like a palace or indeed a grand house, if anything, it looked like nothing she had ever seen before in the flesh. It had the appearance of a fortress over anything. They arrived at the gates, unsurprised to see them locked. With only a flick of her seidr, she had them opened and walked in. 

When they arrived to the main door, it took even less effort to unlock them also. She looked around the bare hallway they found themselves in before thinking of what needed doing. Beside her, Greta looked somewhat uncomfortable.

“Býleistr?” Ella called out harshly. “I need to speak with you immediately.” Her voice echoed through the hall.

The sound of a door opening close by telling her of the location of the older prince. She waited for his arrival apprehensively. 

“Why are you here?” He growled as he came into sight. “How dare you come here and demand my presence.”

“I did not demand it, if I were demanding, I would have told you to get into my presence immediately as I was going to speak with you, not implore that I needed to, and, since you are asking why I am here, that answers if you have left here any time recently. War is upon us.” 

“What?” He demanded, his concern clear to see.

“Alfheim is at risk of falling, as you know, Jotunheim is the closest realm to it. If we do not prepare, we could be next. Loki and Helbindi have already joined my brother, the Light Elves and the Vanir. His Majesty wished to allow you a few days recovery before calling on you also but Jotunheim can wait no longer, she needs her third son to join the fray. The last remaining guards are gone to get the people to bring them to the East, if you remain here and they breach the realm, you will be cut off from the rest of us and will not last long against their magic, you need to get back to the palace.” “My father banished me here.” He snarled. 

“He sent you here to quell unrest, giving you time away from the talk of others with your mates, you know this was not a punishment, not in the true sense. We all know that were Laufey to command it, you would know the true meaning of suffering. Cease acting as though you will not return, you know you will assist with this, you were raised for this and are a damn good fighter who enjoys a fight so don’t pretend you are not already considering going.” She turned to leave. “Why did my father send you?” “Because the men are needed to assist those who need them, you are too remote to simply trot here and then continue to them. I offered to inform you.” “Why?” “Because, as your brother’s mate, my being here should show you the severity of the situation.” 

“How do I know this is not some sort of trick?” “You mean by my father to bring down Jotunheim from the inside?” Býleistr nodded. “Because were that the case, you being here alone and unaware of such things would actually have benefited such a plot, because I broke through your defences without alerting you until I called your name.” Býleistr frowned and looked at the door, noting that she had, in fact, done so. “Because if my father were to think of something like that, he would not give one single solitary care to you and your mates as you are of so little importance to him that he would most likely forget you and they even existed because as far as the guarding of Nine Realms are concerned; you, Býleistr, son of Laufey and Fárbauti, are so far down the list of issues he would see fit to be concerned about, that you would not make it into a thousand-page book of said list, I am sorry to inform you. I respect that in your personal thoughts, you are your paramount concern, as indeed we all are to ourselves, but to my father, the Allfather, King of Asgard and protector of the realms, you are nothing. I could obliterate you right here and now, so you cannot fathom what he could do but he would not do such a thing, nor will I, we need you alive to help our realm.” Býleistr shook his head. “I will not leave to help Asgard.” “Odd you should say that since none have asked such a boon of you.” “You mentioned ‘our’ realm.” “Yes, a you and I inclusive ‘our’. I am referencing Jotunheim, our home, our realm. I know you have yet to see past my appearance to see me as of here, but I am the mate of your brother, the children of which will be of Jotunheim, raised as Jotnar. All I do, I do for Jotunheim but you are so busy hating my skin to realise it.” She looked to where she could now see Alma and Angrboða watching them. “If anything, you should like me, I opened the door to you getting your second mate and talked Loki into not wanting to have you skinned for it. Now, get what you need and come on. It’s not a swift journey.” 

“I do not take orders from you.” “I do not take no for an answer, so decide now if you want to be forced back by my seidr or your own free will because we are going back to the palace and you will be facing your father, so do you do so as a son willing to serve him or as a man forced back who disobeyed not an order from me, but his father.” Ella challenged. 

Býleistr snarled for a moment. “What did you mean ‘It is clear I did not know’? Did you think I had a part in this, that I would do such a thing?” 

“I did not know, such as I do not pretend to know what you are thinking now with regards to how you wish to return to the palace.” She looked at Greta. “We have done as instructed, so I suggest getting a few moments to compose yourself before we return, however our mates’ brother decides he wishes to do this.” 

“So you expect us to just leave and follow you, is that it?” Angrboða growled. 

“I have stated that it is the order of our king, so on the presentation of such knowledge, yes, I do.” 

“You think we take orders from you.” “You take orders from your King,” Ella stated each word with enunciation and loudly. “You are not above him, nor are I or indeed your mate, lest you forget you are not the child of the king but the simply the mate of said child, the same as for me. I offered to come to show the severity of the situation and upon order from my King to ensure your return, I will follow said order should my last breathe be caused by it. Only I will not be at risk of such, for none will be so stupid as to challenge me on it. Now, I will ask you once more, please, get what you need, I can use my seidr so we do not need to carry it back and we can leave as soon as possible. Seeing you travel amongst those forced to flee will give them a sense that you are there for them, it will strengthen their thoughts, not just of your father, but of you specifically for standing with them.” She looked at Býleistr as she spoke the last few words. “They want to feel safe, you are a known fighter, you will make them feel so.”

Býleistr contemplated her words for a moment. “Alma, ‘Boda, get your belongings, we leave as soon as we are ready.”  He stated, walking towards his mates. “Stay here,” He ordered Ella and Greta. 

“I am going getting something to eat,” Ella stated, heading towards the area she hoped housed the kitchen. “We have not eaten since breakfast and we are hungry and I can literally smell the food from here and I am not leaving with an empty stomach. You pack, we eat.”  

#pride and prejudice #wolfpawn #loki fic #chapter 38

[tarithenurse]

On my mind, in my soul - 9

Prompt: Got three things to go by on this from Anon: “Ghost rule” (cover/translation by jubyphonic), Asgard, a necklace. Pairing: Loki x Burglar!reader. Content: Cussing, angsting, illness, mention of death etc., family quarrels. All in all a lovely, uplifting chapter once again :P A/N: Well...I caved in and that means you get the full chapter now...let’s see how long before the requirements are met for the next. If you LIKE what you read: please reblog! Or comment? Or send me hugs? (Puppies are also accepted)

The value of a life

I guess I really can’t dodge it this time No law to pardon my crime, no clemency for this evil of mine

Of course, Heimdal had warned the All-Father. A host of Einherjar were standing ready with cuffs, chains, and golden spears the moment Loki’s feet touched solid ground. They’d been rougher than strictly necessary, shoving him to his knees before binding him with magically sealed restraints. Thor couldn’t do much to prevent it unless he wanted to make the situation worse, and besides, the brothers had promised to remain passive throughout this endeavour. Yes, breaching banishment was bound to have certain consequences.

Shoved forwards with both weapons and hard gazes at his back, Loki’s reminded of a similar scene, but this time he makes sure not to smile or talk out of turn, waiting instead till he’s right at the bottom stairs of the throne before sinking to his knees without being ordered to. Maybe it’s the sight of the fallen prince, or perhaps the fact that having Loki around always meant trouble for some one, either way a murmur ripples through the audience that has managed to gather even with the short warning.

An echoing boom of metal against stone silences the room. “Loki Laufeyson,” Odin’s voice holds a tired curiosity, “why have you returned from your banishment, knowing that the penalty might be death?”

As long as another life will be spared. Finally lifting his head to face the man he once thought of as his father, Loki feels the old resentment begging to roil inside once more. Everyone’s waiting for it, expecting him to lash out verbally with that silver tongue which has won him friends and enemies alike. Even Thor, standing next to the throne, is keeping a watchful eye on the slender figure prone on the floor.

“I accept any consequences of my transgression, All-Father,” the words taste like bile but have to be spoken clearly, “and you may do with me as you see fit…I only wish to save an innocent life.”

A few snorts of disbelief can be heard through the grand hall, still Loki keeps quiet. Green eyes locked with one of pale blue, watering with age and seeking compensation through the aid of watchful spies. Seconds pass, long as a lifetime, and already the prodigal son fears it’ll be too late. A glance to Thor is noticed and scrutinized by their father.

“So you’ve found compassion for the Midgardians now? Hmmm?” Odin’s eyepatch wobbles as the white brows lift. “Tell me then…who do you intend to save?”

“Admittedly only one for now.” Even to himself, the plea sounds hollow. “A maiden whom I unwittingly put in harms way when trying to achieve the opposite.”

“One?”

“One.”

Loki’s knees are starting to ache against the stones, tempting him to reposition ever so slightly under the scrutinizing gaze of the King. He’s had worse, endured crippling pain far beyond the discomfort he now feels, and so he remains motionless save for the eyes that return the stare unwaveringly.

“Thor?” Odin commands without shifting his attention.

The God of Thunder was not one for convoluted speech when growing up in Asgard. Although he studied as a prince should under the careful eyes of Frigga and the many tutors, the more physically inclined boy preferred to put his intellect to different uses than poring over books more than absolutely necessary. Loki used to be annoyed by it, but today…today he rejoices with each simple sentence the brother utters, detailing the events since the phone call to Stark from Loki. Even as he bluntly describes the medical situation of the woman who’s nothing but a stranger to anyone else.

Silence fills the hall when Thor has finished. Odin himself shows a sliver of surprise and has very few questions for the broad warrior before sinking into thought. Make up your mind, old man! Not a word passes Loki’s lips. He can’t risk angering the All-Father, the ruler of Asgard who protects the realm and its people viciously from outsider.

“You bargain your freedom and life in exchange for hers?”

“Yes.” No waver.

A low hum escapes Odin while he thinks. “And…even if there is nothing to be done to save her, you will accept your sentence?”

Not before she’s safe. “Yes.”

Although “no” is what I meant, I gave a “yes” and lied yet again

…   Reader’s PoV   …

The entire world is moving, tipping and spinning around you without having any impact on your stability on the slippery ice. Faintly, you remember the idea that wherever you are isn’t the real world, but how can that be? Already, you can sense the beckoning carried on the icy winds, the urge driving you on instead of letting the stickiness take you down into the dark. Hasn’t that always been the life you’ve known?

Deciding not to care about the odd jostling of the world, you carry on slowly. As you navigate through patches of greedy tendrils, you feel how they hold on tighter…pull harder. It even looks as though more of them appears and begin to invade the relative safety of the ice. No! They can’t hold you back, the musn’t. Because somewhere at the end of the path is a golden chain set with small stones and it’s calling for you.

…   Loki’s PoV   …

Odin doesn’t allow Loki to be there when [Y/N] arrives, and it’s only Thor’s shameless pleading (mixed with a bit of logic) that secures a corner view in the Healing Chambers.

By Mirmir’s head! Every curse and worrying comment is bit back in fear that the silver tongue will land Loki in trouble…or the Midgardian. It’s evident how taxing the journey has been. Each breath is laboured now, rattling the normally gorgeous chest, yet nothing seems to come off it: face sickly pale; prominent, dark veins marring the soft skin; and a fever that rages through her body with a force that fills the entire room. One glance at Thor is enough to solidify the concern.

…

Time passes slowly, each minute reflected in the glittery particles of the Soul Forge’s projection. Even the physicians, Idunn and Eir, wear grim expressions as they work their skill and magic to battle the poison eating the patient from within. Loki can barely make sense of their words, too lost in thought and consumed by a disconcerting worry that he dares not voice yet. Just let her live.

“No, we can’t, there’s not enough.” Idunn’s brows are pulled down to the nose as she examines the data hovering above the patient.

The other healer doesn’t relent. “Maybe some o–“

“Who?!”

The one word’s sharp enough for a guard to wince, his spear brushing uncomfortably near Loki who’s trying to get an idea of what the women are arguing about. A donor? Well, the options are limited, and whatever [Y/N] is in need of has to be something any healthy Asgardian must apparently possess since the physicians are discussing it at all.

“I volunteer.” Five spears realign at Loki’s calm voice.

Stalking past the exam table, Idunn takes in the ex-prince’s form properly for the first time since his arrival. “Clearly, despite your intellect, you’ve not realized that we’re referring to a full blood transfusion,” she explains curtly, “replacing all of the girl’s blood.”

“Do it.”

Brown eyes are boring into cold blues. “We’d have to verify if you’re a match.”

“Do it.”

“Using just one donor could be lethal…for the donor.”

There’s no hesitation. No waver in the answer. “Do it.”

“Brother!” For all of Loki’s sharp senses, he’d forgotten the blond, bumbling idiot of a Thunder God still was there. “You cannot do this!”

“Why not?!” Again the guard flinches. “Tell me, why I shouldn’t! My freedom, maybe my life, is forfeit either way! Let it at least be used for one good deed before your father does whatever he pleases with it.”

Thrusting his hands forward, manacles chafing against the skin, Loki presents the vulnerable insides of the elbows the best he can.

…

Perhaps this isn’t so bad after all. The darkness of the marring, prominent veins is already lessening, leaving Loki to believe that he can see a healthy luster returning to [Y/N]’s delicate skin even from where he’s lying in a neighbouring Soul Forge.

“I must admit,” Odin’s voice shifts the adoptive son’s attention, “that your action moves me.”

“I’m not doing it for you.”

Maybe Thor wants to say something, his mouth opening and closing as he rolls slowly on his feet. Swaying. Lulling. Must keep my eyes open. It’s getting difficult already. A tiredness is invading Loki’s body as the pumps work to withdraw blood from both subjects, only pumping it into one afterwards. This is not how the Asgardian had expected it to end, complacent and filled with regrets.

“If this should be your last deed, my son, then I will remember you more fondly than I once feared I would have to.” The voice is distant, with a cotton-like quality to it as it seeps through the dimming lights.

Go ahead and judge away, I chose to be this kind of person anyway

…   Reader’s PoV   …

The dream’s fading, becoming nothing more than a fuzzy memory of desperation and a longing for something that you don’t even recall anymore save for a glittery eye of a tiger. It had been so important to reach it, but did you actually succeed in the end? Whatever it is that had been so vital, it’s not in your hand as you try to move it, fingers fumbling over soft silk and lungs filling wonderfully with clean air scented with honey. It’s like breathing life, and a tiny content sigh escapes you.

Soothing but insistent, your senses come back for full power, and despite the soft bed, it’s hard to find comfort in your body and mind: one is tingling as though every part has been asleep and is now waking with pins and needles, the other is flooded with fragmented recollections of a hand-over gone wrong. Very wrong.

You push yourself upwards against a wooden headrest with a groan, eyes blinking to stop the room around you from swimming away in a haze, and you spot a figure sitting in a chair. Broad shoulders hunched forward and elbows resting on the knees to leave the hands hanging loosely folded.

“So…you wake,” is all Thor says before getting up and leaving, ignoring your stunned reaction.

…

You’ve been bathed and dressed in a pretty yet antique-ish dress. Even fed. But no one has bothered explain to you what has happened and why you’re here in Asgard. That’s where I am, right? Following a guard in golden armour, you’re being led through impressive halls with statues, murals, and tapestries the likes of which you’ve only seen it the best museums and private collections. It’s not until the enormous double doors open that you realize you’re on your way to the throne to meet the king. Odin.

All the curiosity you’d felt is twisted into a nausea-inducing anxiety as you pass pillars and people lining the length of the room, all standing silently watching. At each carved stone reaching high above are more guards, but it’s the silently moving shadows at the walls that prevent you from breathing further than the top of the sternum and recognising Thor next to the throne does nothing to compensate. Where’s Loki? He’s got to be around somewhere, but you can’t find him and all too soon you’re at the dais and have to kneel with eyes fixed on the floor.

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N].” Where does Odin know my name from? “It is imperative that you understand how seldom it is for an outsider to be brought here…let alone a simple Midgardian.” There’s a poorly veiled insult there, but this is not the time to pick a fight and you choose to nod instead. “Still…here you are.” Was that a sigh? “My adoptive son Loki came and pleaded for the best physicians to treat you in the hope your life could be saved. He came…although he had been banished from this realm…”

The king continues for much longer than you find necessary, especially focusing on the infinite benevolence of him as a king and the Asgardian prowess on pretty much every single field of science, history, and diplomacy. The few stolen glances reveal nothing to be out of the ordinary, and you presume this must be the normal way for the aging monarch to address anyone in court.

Eventually, Odin reaches the end and waits for you to express your gratitude for the lifesaving treatment he has extended to you, a pathetic human (not his actual words, but same point). Of course, you sing his and Asgard’s praises. To begin with.

“Your majesty, if I may…” You try to sound confident as you meet his eyes. Eye. “Where’s Loki? I’d like to thank him.”

Tell them who I really am, Since everything I know’s about to meet its end

#loki fanfic #loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson #loki x you #Loki Laufeyson x reader #loki odinson #Loki odinson x reader #Thor Odinson #Odin #Asgard #On my Mind in my Soul #mcu #loki marvel #loki mcu #fanfiction #writing #loki angst #loki pining #loki vs odin #loki ex prince

[emeraldtawny]

Siren/Pirate!AU MC, Oliver & Loki - Secrets In The Fog

Guys....before you continue down this rabbit-hole, the original AU is by the absolutely amazing @chiefofpigs so you should definitely read her relationship chart and how this story begins !

SO! Once again, I am incapable of keeping a story brief but this AU literally breathes life into my veins and as soon as I saw Loki’s inclusion into this AU, I knew I had to include him so here we are I seem to love including Oliver as minor roles in my stories recently....huh  ANYWHO! Here is my first fic of 2019, and it’s using an amazing writer’s AU so all the better~! ;3

~

Another quiet night.

The thought passes through her head as the young woman moves through the tavern she works at with ease, her presence both soothing and uplifting to the patrons around her. The regulars know very well of the bubbly yet soft-spoken tavern waitress; how the curl of her lips as she offers you a drink is truly genuine, or how she will always ask you about your day, not from obligation but from interest. Newcomers or travellers passing by for a quick drink enjoy the change of pace, appreciating the somewhat rare expression of such sincerity in these trying times.

She hums to herself as she works, the loose waves of hair framing her face that are too stubborn to be tied back flowing freely with her seemingly effortless movements. The song she hums is a familiar one to her, one that holds a place deep within her heart and always reminds her of the beautiful, dulcet tones of the voice who she first heard the captivating song from.

“Excuse us, miss. Another round of beer for the table, if you would.”

“Coming right up, sir!”

She never notices the spring in her step whenever she thinks of him, her mind too enraptured to fully grasp how much he has a hold on her - a hold that she would gladly stay in, whether circumstantially forced to or not.

She glides to the bar over to where her boss is idly cleaning the glassware. The man, Oliver, hardly spares a glance at her, but this is in no way cold or dismissive. He grabs a few glasses and tops them with tapped beer, the foam falling smoothly over the precipice of each of the glass’ rims. He places them on a tray and slides it to her, the exchange between boss and employee complete. She simply smiles and nods, taking the tray in one hand before turning around to head towards the required table. She sets the tray of golden beer down on the table.

“Here you are. I hope you enjoy your drinks.”

“Thanks, dear.”

With a smile, she grabs the now unoccupied tray and moves to head back to the bar - she doesn’t make it very far.

“Oi, sweetheart. Come back here for a sec. I’ve got a question for ya.”

Despite the man’s gruff authoritative voice, she remains smiling as she turns back to face the man calling upon her, “Can I help you, sir?”

The man grunts, his expression as he assesses her the epitome of untrusting. “I’ve heard rumours ‘bout you ‘round here, love. People say you’re a nice young lass, always kind and helpful regardless of the folk passin’ through.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed by his remarks, she politely bows, “Thank you, sir. It’s very nice to know that-”

“Hold up, I ain’t finished yet.”

She uprights herself, meeting the man’s gaze swirling with seething contempt. “People say that, but that’s just because they don’t know what you really are.”

The calm merriment in the tavern is as good as dead, everyone’s attention focused on the conversation unfolding. Oliver keeps a steely eye on everyone, his movements tense as if ready to act if necessary.

The young woman’s gaze shifts to confusion. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I’ve seen you hangin’ round the ports at night, thinkin’ you’re all alone so no one can see you emerge into yer true form, you sea witch.”

Her delicate eyebrows furrow at his words, “Sea witch? You compare me to something of myth?”

“It ain’t myth, sweetheart, so stop playing dumb! No sane girl would hang around the sea at night unless they wanted pirates to abduct them, sirens to suck the life outta them or….you were wantin’ to go home to the ocean you belong in.”

His voice grows colder as realisation dawns on him, the scraping of his wooden chair against the floorboards grating patrons’ ears as he stands, looming over her significantly smaller stature. He laughs mirthlessly, “That’s it, ain’t it? You’re just a fish outta water tryna go back. So why don’t you?! Go back home to the cold depths where you belong, you wretched sea hag!”

A lifeless metallic clink echoes in the still air. The man turns, any expression of anger he was ready to let out forced back by the sight of a barrel of a gun pointed directly at him.

“I think you’ve made your point. Now it’s time for me to make mine-” Oliver’s hand on the pistol is steady, his finger resting on the trigger, “-Get the hell out of my tavern. One more targeted remark from you at my staff and I’ll make sure you never speak again.”

The man’s hulking frame shakes in fear. He grabs a bag of coins from his pocket, carelessly tossing on the table before dashing out of the tavern. Everyone seems to breathe a collective sigh of relief, the atmosphere calming once again.

Oliver returns his pistol to its place under the counter and motions to his waitress to come to him. She swallows and walks slowly to the bar, the nerves built up in her throat from the tense accusations still yet to have dissipated. She meets Oliver’s eyes, their colour similar to the pistol he was just wielding, an involuntary shiver running through her.

“You alright?”

What is meant to be a “Yes” instead emerges from her lips as a strangled “Mm” noise, her throat still constricted. She nods to affirm her point and Oliver sighs.

“Is what he was saying true? Have you been going out to the harbour at night again?”

Her eyes break away from his own to stare at the freshly polished counter, her hands tightening in the fabric of her dress. Oliver keeps his gaze steady on her face, looking for the telling flicker in her eyes of her easily readable honesty. He says nothing, waiting uncharacteristically patiently for her to respond. After a minute, he turns back to polishing the glassware, his deep voice cutting through her thoughts.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I’m your boss, not your guardian. But just be careful, okay?” She nods with an affirmative sound and Oliver sighs again, more from relief than exasperation, “Take the rest of the night off, go clear your head. Be back before the fog sets in. I’ll be waiting.”

She blinks, unsure if what she just heard were her boss’ words. A smile breaks across her face, the thought that she has someone who cares for her putting her mind at ease. She dashes back to her room on the second floor, undoing her apron all the while. Removing the ribbon from her hair with a simple tug, her natural waves succumb to gravity and flow down her back. After a quick check in the mirror, she’s dashing down the stairs and outside, her hair tickling her exposed shoulders.

The lanterns light the linear path to the harbour, her light steps still causing the aged floorboards to creak underneath her as she walks. She breathes in the cool, salty breeze that she adores, her chaotic thoughts like the crashing waves instantly soothed to nothing more than a gentle ripple. She reaches the end of the dock, admiring the few ships anchored down as she walks without a destination. Reaching the edge of the wooden walkway, she closes her eyes and begins to sing, her voice resonating out to the vast nothingness of the ocean. She smiles as she sings, feeling accomplished at how much she has improved since when she first learned the foreign lyrics. She knows that she shouldn’t be doing this, that she should be inside in her room, but she feels beckoned to the harbour, to the deep ocean before her so close yet still so far away.

(I want to see you.)

Through her closed eyelids, she doesn’t notice the fog slowly creeping in and swirling ominously around her legs, nor does she notice the almost silent footsteps over her singing. She lets out a breath of satisfaction and solace, reopening her eyes to those of ruby and amber, seeming to shine without light. She stiffens and jumps back, her foot slipping on the edge of the walkway.

“Ah-!”

She squeezes her eyes shut, yet she feels no chill from the seawater running through her spine, nor the wetness on her skin. She opens her eyes again to mismatched hues, the man’s arms around her waist and a few feet from where she almost fell.

“My, that was awfully close. Do be careful out at night. Who knows what would have happened if you fell into the ocean.”

“U-um, yes. Thank you.”

His arms release her and she takes a precautionary step backwards. He smiles, an odd combination of innocence and mystery that has her curious. Before she can even ask, he speaks.

“You should head back home before the fog sets in. Wouldn’t want Oliver to condemn your actions, now would we?”

“Wait...how do you--?”

He chuckles, thoroughly amused by her shock, “You need not know anything about me, except that I am better than most at knowing what goes on around here. I have nothing better to do, you see,” His grin somehow widens, taking on a more knowing, fiercer edge, “For example, I know you come out here most nights to sing to the sea. And that you’re not always alone.”

She stiffens, opening her mouth to retort but is quickly silenced by his hand, the force applied enough to keep her quiet but nothing to cause harm. “Don’t try to lie to me, my dear. I’ve seen him. Or, I guess it’s more accurate to say that I’ve seen them both.”

She gasps, his hand stifling the sound. He continues, “Seems that man calling you a sea witch wasn’t too outlandish. If you’re conversing with the creatures meant to suck the souls from humans and are still living, then maybe you have something special about you,” He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he watches the quickly growing distress in her eyes, “You can even sing the siren’s song and feel no bewitchment...although, I guess your pirate friend can’t say the same.”

(What? What is he saying? What does he mean? How does he know all of this?!)

Her thoughts spiral, no answers and only questions. She breaks free of his grasp, ready to run until-

“A shame you haven’t seen your pirate friend in a few weeks. And I was going to tell you when he was next coming back to town.”

She freezes almost subconsciously, her feet still while her brain screams at her to run. She should know better, she should be back at the tavern by now, unconcerned with the man before her. So why isn’t she moving?

The fog settles deeper around the docks, creeping slowly around them, its presence near suffocating and threatening to leave the lantern lights redundant. She looks over her shoulder, meeting the man’s gleaming gaze.

(I...want to see him too.)

“What do you know?”

The man grins wide, his trap in place. “He’s a pirate on a ship called The Heart Breaker. New recruit, yet he has his sea legs. They like this town for its neutrality and good trading posts. I happen to have intel that The Heart Breaker will be back in port on the next full moon.”

Eyes wide, she racks her brain for the next time that will be. “That’s in….four days.”

“It is indeed. Is that all you wanted to know?”

She nods, “Yes, thank you. I won’t ask how you know this, but you have my gratitude.”

He chuckles, herself unsure if it’s the presence of the fog making him appear more sinister. “ You didn’t actually think I would just tell you what you wanted without an exchange, did you?”

She swallows hard, chills running through her spine. “I--I have nothing of value. I swear, please.”

He steps towards her, the fog seemingly parting for him. Her feet feel as heavy as lead, unable to run as he drifts within arm’s reach of her.

“I’m not asking for much. And what I want is something only you can get me,” He leans in, whispering into her ear, “I need you to get me one of your siren friend’s scales.”

“What?”

She baulks, in disbelief of his request.

“I want a siren scale,” He reiterates, “The rumours of their opalescent scales holding a myriad of colours intrigues me. Get me one of your friend’s scales and I’ll consider your debt paid.”

“But, I--”

“Haven’t seen him? Maybe not, but I know he’s emerged from the surface for you and that he’s been close enough to you to touch.”

She falls silent, her eyes transfixed on his own. He grins, stepping back from her but never once letting his gaze waver.

“You’re a pretty girl, I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Maybe you can beguile the beguiler.”

The last thing she sees are his eyes, blood and gold, staring at her until the fog inhibits her vision. She rushes forward hoping to catch him, but as she emerges from the fog, he’s nowhere to be seen. She frowns, looking around near frantically for him. She sighs silently, resigning herself to simply walk back to the tavern, ready for Oliver to rip into her.

As she walks back with the last of the sun setting behind her, the man who she was searching for emerges from the fog, watching her return to town with a wry smile gracing his lips.

“With her voice, she enchants; with her beauty, she deprives of reason - voice and sight alike deal destruction and death.” He chuckles under his breath as the fog engulfs him, his eyes glinting with the small shred of lantern light penetrating the deep fog, “A siren uses its voice and a pirate uses its sword, but all bring destruction and death regardless.”

#ikerev #ikerev siren/pirate au #loki genetta #oliver knight #I love chief and her AUs so much! #pls read the originals #props to chief herself for giving me info on the pirates to help me write this