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iamstartraveller776 · 3 years

Note

Id love to know any details about Awake. Can we expect more of that?

(Ask game: send me a title from my wip list, and I'll give you a snippet or more information.)

(The prologue of Awake can be read on AO3)

Right now, I don't have anything new written beyond the first little bit of the first chapter—which if you have the old PDF of my "Unfinished Collection," you've probably already read. Just in case, I'll post it here, with the note that this is a very rough draft. And then I'll give one more spoiler!

CHAPTER ONE: Resurrection

This was not how her life was supposed to turn out.

Resting her head against the car window, Jane drew idle tracks in the condensation with a sigh. No one spoke a word as the scenery full of mountains and evergreens whipped past in the waning evening light.

Mercifully, Darcy was mute as she slouched in the back seat with her cherry red Beat headphones, worshiping at the altar of Spotify. Earlier during their thirteen hour flight, the young woman had made it her mission to excise every childhood memory Jane had of Norway—the most coveted information being the level of hotness of Scandinavian males. Jane had been ten years old during her last visit and unaware of the opposite sex.

Not that she was particularly interested in the male half of the population now.

What was that old saying? Misfortune always came in threes.

Jane’s trilogy of bad luck began last month with her split from Donald Blake—or Doctor Perfect, as Darcy liked to call him. They’d met at the hospital a year ago when she gave herself second degree burns with her soldering iron. He had flirted; she gave him her signature goofy grin. Phone numbers were exchanged. He took her out to a Mom and Pop Italian restaurant; she took him to the rooftop of her lab and showed him Ursa Major. He kissed her; she invited him to stay over—indefinitely.

They’d been hurtling gaily along toward love and ‘til-death-do-us-part until he landed an orthopedic surgery residency at John Hopkins. He wanted her to go with him, but she couldn’t leave her work behind. In the crossfire of heated words, he revealed what he really thought of her research—a quaint endeavor he found charming but ultimately childish, especially compared to his work. She told him not to let the door hit him on the way out.

Two weeks later she lost her lab to an electrical fire.

Faulty wiring, said the report issued by the fire chief. Everything had been insured, but most of the equipment was irreplaceable—pieced together by her own blood, sweat, and ingenuity. She’d have to start over, not from scratch but near enough to feel like it.

Jane’s third setback had yet to reveal itself but her gut, which had been marinating in a healthy dose of disappointment, said the cruel hand of Murphy’s Law was on the horizon.

“You need a sabbatical,” Erik had said to her, “to get your bearings back. Spend the rest of autumn with me at my cabin and then you can decide on your future.” Jane, of course, saw through the ruse. He was going to attempt to lure her to Tromsø with promises of state-of-the-art research facilities and his benevolent guidance. She didn’t care enough to argue.

~TBC~

Likely, this might get a change when I get back to this story as I think I have the wrong starting point here.

But here's your spoiler: Feeling listless after losing years of research, Jane spends a lot of her time wandering the mountains. While she is hiking off the trail, an earthquake strikes, opening the ground beneath her feet. Fortunately she survives the fall into some hidden cavern with only a few scrapes and bruises. She pulls out her phone, and to her chagrin, there's no service. After turning on the flashlight app, she's shocked to find another person in the rubble—a man with dark hair who isn't breathing. So, she performs CPR.

And that's all I'm gonna say. I don't have a timeline for when I'll be updating this. (I believe I owe you a Grosse Point Blank AU.)

#iamartemisday #lokane #my fic #ask game #star replies

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dresupi · 3 years

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Cooking for a crowd - Shieldshock

for @iamartemisday 334 words Rated T

~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay this one has potatoes, where’s the gravy?”

Darcy was holding two containers in her hands, neither of which had potatoes, so Steve had to stop what he was doing and look for the container she was referring to. It was in front of the coffee maker, across the kitchen. Of course.

“I have the gravy, but let’s stick to talking about what’s in your hands before we talk about the loners, okay?”

“Fine, but I need five of these in the next four minutes for my cousin and her family.”

“I thought they came already.”

“No. That was my aunt. It’s just confusing because she’s the same age as me. My cousin is also the same age as both of us and she’s got three kids and a wife.”

“Got it.”

Steve added gravy to the container in front of the coffee maker and then checked to be sure it was full.

He’d signed up for this. Gleefully, all the way back in October. Back when Darcy’s family realized that the pandemic wasn’t going anywhere, but they still wanted some of Darcy’s famous glazed ham and all the trimmings. So of course, Darcy had offered to make it and Steve had offered to help her package it up so each family could come and get theirs, from a proper distance and they could all eat together in their cars while zooming.

Holidays in the time of Covid, Darcy had called it.

And he hadn’t truly appreciated the size of Darcy’s family until he was tasked with plating nineteen separate dinners in the span of about thirty minutes.

“Just my mom and Dad to go,” she said, snapping the lids on the last of the five. “And then we can eat too.”

He grinned and leaned down to kiss her. As much as he complained, he wouldn’t trade a second of this. It made Darcy so happy. And he had no issues with anyone in her family. AND they were being properly distanced.

Win-win-win.

#Shieldshock #Darcy x Steve #Steve x Darcy #Darcy Lewis #Steve Rogers #Darcy/Steve #Steve/Darcy #Winter Prompts 2020 #orange #my writing #iamartemisday

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ibelieveinturtles · 4 years

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69 and 47 for Taserbones.

So… I got this in March, forgot about it or something, rediscovered it but by then I had NO IDEA what prompt list the numbers were from...then, long story short, I did some detecting Thursday night and found the right list!

Anyway, without further ado…

47 - Not a Date

69 - Flirting Under Fire

This would be a fic where Darcy is a member of The Avengers PR team. When Brock Rumlow comes in after his undercover stint as terrorist Crossbones, stealing back stolen technology for Fury, Darcy is assigned as his PR rep. It's her job to rehabilitate his image, turning him from wanted terrorist to loyal patriot, risking everything for his country, and she does a pretty good job of it even though he irritates the absolute hell out of her.

When the Avengers hold their annual charity ball, Maria Hill asks Darcy to accompany Brock in her capacity of PR agent - she's there to field the trickier questions, act as a shield against some of the more predatory reporters, gossipmongers, and groupies.

Once at the ball, Rumlow seems to be intent on having a good time. The first part of the evening is a series of interviews and every single one of them starts by asking him who his date is.

The more Darcy tries to explain that she's his babysitter, not his date, the more he behaves like she is.

As the evening progresses she not only has to deal with a couple of extra persistent reporters, but with an increasingly flirty Rumlow. The thing that surprises her the most though, is when she realises she doesn't mind.

#darcy lewis #brock rumlow #taserbones #trope mashup #fics i'll never write #iamartemisday

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cookingwithroxy · 4 years

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Just to respond to your comment, let me say you are making a lot of assumptions about me and people who write fanfic. Fanfic is not better than original work, it's just a different medium. Some people do one, some do both. Some people who write fanfic don't want to write original work. They're not looking to make money or become professional writers. They just want to write silly self-indulgent shit in their spare time for fun. That was my point and nothing else.

Dude, honestly? You’re the one who keeps acting like I’m telling you that you don’t belong in a fandom.

And I’m just stuck baffled that you think that this is some kind of either/or thing.

Like let me explain something incredibly fuckign stupid to you.

I’m a part of a few different RP communities. I’ve got OC’s and canon characters I RP as. And as anyone knows who interacts with RP communities is that every last ELEMENT of what we do is writing, it’s all creative output. And it’s done entirely for fun.

Do you understand this concept?

That all this writing, the writing I do for my own entertainment, the collaborative efforts that are either part of a strict community (Homestuck RP) a vague community (Cartoon Characters) or a general theme (Superheroes) are each a display of SILLY SELF-INDULGENT SHIT I DO IN MY SPARE TIME FOR FUN.

YOU. You are the one defining what does and does not count as self-indulgent shit. Not me. And you’re taking offense at the concept that your original writing of your original concepts somehow ceases to be fun if you’re forced to recognize that it’s gone so fucking AU that it’s changed setting, genres and characters beyond all recognition.

At this point I SHOULD be spending my time working on something ridiculous and only nebulously connected to canon that only works because that I’m part of an outrageous AU that only barely connects to the core setting is because that’s how fucked up the core setting is. I do it for fun, it’s entirely self-indulgent. But instead of being able to do that silly stuff OR work on the elaborate backstory of my ‘distaff version of a supervillain that’s gone so far from canon that I’ve had to accept she’s my personal OC now, and have commissioned art of her because of it’ I’m having to sit here and explain to YOU that you’re taking this WAY too fucking personally.

Fuck it I’m in a bad mood now I’m just going to post a picture of my favorite OC and then work on her original story concepts. It’ll make me happier.

This is Mage, she’s a retired super-criminal who started off as a variation on The Shade, but because I kept adding things to her she’s now entirely mine and people are happy to read the original stuff I write for her.

#iamartemisday

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abbas-ragamuffin · 4 years

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AU 17, trope 4, prompt 27 for Lokane.

Thank you so much for the request! I’ve never done a band!au before, or a messy meet, so thank you for the challenge, @iamartemisday I hope I did it right and that you enjoy it anyway! :)))

17-band!au, 4-meet messy, 27-“that was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.”

Jane was running late, like nearly an hour late, and the show was only ninety minutes long. Her car of course, a Picasso more than a car really, made up of different parts of different colored cars decided to break down tonight of all nights. It wasn’t a beautiful car by any means, but up until recently it had always gotten her from point A to point B. She didn’t come from money, and she worked her tail off in high school to pay for it. Now two years into college, she was planning on trading it in with the money she’d earn from an internship to an astrophysicist. But that wasn’t until the summer and they still had several months worth of classes. This was the worst time to lose her car.

But right now she couldn’t think if that, or the fact she’d left it abandoned on the side of the road. She couldn’t run in her heels, knowing on this uneven pavement she’d probably break her ankle. So she hobbled along on unsteady legs, carrying her violin case and cursing her course choices. Band wasn’t something she needed, or even wanted to take. Her father had played, and left her his violin before he died. Jane was about to begin her freshmen year, the loss still brutally fresh and she chose music as an elective in remembrance of him. Music was her father’s passion, astrophysics was hers.

Still, she let out a sigh of relief as she entered the parking lot and the entrance to the Music Hall came into view. Just a short way now, she just needed to make it inside without falling and she might be just in time for her solo. It was Bach, the name of the composition still escapes her, all she memorized was the section she’d be performing. She paused as she neared the door, pulling down the skirt of her black, halter top dress and doing her best to straighten her hair. Taking a few deep, steadying breaths, she walked the final few steps to the door and reached out.

The door, however, flew open towards her – so hard it appeared it would fly off the hinges. The hinges held, however, that didn’t stop the door from hitting her in the face and knocking her backward until she fall in the garden along the front of the building. She sat up immediately despite the spots in her vision, checking her nose for blood and luckily finding none. But she noticed her bare foot, and the broken shoe that rested beside it. She faintly heard cursing in a smooth British accent coming closer.

At least it wasn’t raining. She didn’t fall in a puddle of mud and nothing was broken. Except her shoe, realizing the four and half inch heel had lost a solid 3 inches. Maybe she could get away with it. As long as she stood stock still while she played, she likely wouldn’t faceplant into the orchestra. A tall, intimidating man in a three-piece suit knelt before her, stretching out his hand to help her up.

“I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

He looked genuinely concerned and she’d never before seen a man with jet black hair that had such bright, vivid eyes. The tears burned in her own eyes, her ankle wasn’t twisted, but this day had been horrible enough and this was only making things worse. She didn’t even wanna do the stupid solo! But Mr. Selvig insisted, even called her his favorite student to butter her up.

“Oh don’t cry, Darling, very bad idea,” he said, waving his program across her face as if to dry her tears, “Your make-up will run. 0/10 would not recommend–”

“10/10 would recommend you not hit me in the face with a door and break my shoe!” she cried, swatting at his outstretched hand as she hauled herself off the ground. Before she could bend to pick it up, the stranger was already handing her the violin case, “I have a solo and I’m already running late…”

She yanked the case from his hand and took hold of the door, pushing passed him as she hobbled on uneven shoes. The nerve!

She felt him rush up behind her.

“I hate to be the bearer of more bad news, but your shoe isn’t the only thing ruined…” her steps faltered at his words.

“What?”

He didn’t answer, merely pointed to her left hip. A tear in the dress that went from her hip to just below her armpit. Her whole side was exposed – she’d never be able to hold the violin up and play without everyone getting an eyeful.

“Oh my god! Are you kidding me?!” she glared at him, mouth agape and a true loss for what to do now. She obviously couldn’t run home and change.

“Before you murder me, just follow me. I have an idea.” he said with hands in the air, walking backwards away from her.

“Follow you? To where?”

“The drama department…” he called as he ran from her view..

She rolled her eyes, removing her other shoe to run after him. As she passed the backstage door of the auditorium, she could hear they were nearing the end of the song before the movement. Luckily, her solo was about five minutes into the piece, which meant she had just under 8 minutes to get new clothes, new shoes, and get back and in place to play. By the time she caught up to him, he was bent in front of the door, she assumed he was picking the lock.

“Do this a lot, do you?” she asked, stopping at his side.

“Not since I was a child.”

The lock clicked and despite herself, Jane was relieved to see the doors open. He switched on the light, seeming to know his way around. He rifled through the rack of costumes, some of the most ugly and ostentatious dresses she’d ever seen.

“Are you in the drama department?”

“Yes, as well as the band.”

She scoffed, “You’re not in the band, I’ve never seen you in our rehearsals.”

“I’m usually late due to one of my courses. I try not to draw attention, so I sit toward the back and I’m always first to leave.”

Jane didn’t respond. It wasn’t impossible, she just couldn’t believe this man had sat a few rows behind her for the last few months and she never noticed.

“What do you play?”

“The chello…Ah!” he pulled a black gown from the rack and held it up to her. It was a long, A-line slip of a dress, black with a plunging v-neck and lace trimming. He held it out to her and motioned to a small fitting room to the right. She sighed and took the hanger. What choice did she have?

“I’ll sort out some shoes for you in the meantime…” he said as she closed the door behind her.

“Thank you…” she called, studying her face and still in shock that it wasn’t bruised or bleeding. That door hurt, and she was certain her nose had been broken.

There wasn’t time to waste and so she pulled the dress up and zipped the side the closed. It didn’t quite fit. She’d worn the halter top because it was form fitting and left her arms free to play. This dress was way too long, and the plunge of the v-neck nearly reached her belly button.

“It doesn’t fit…”

“I expected as much. Step outside, I have a remedy.” his voice was much closer and she bit her lip as she debated just staying in this dressing room all night, or at least until everyone from the concert had left.

Jane did as he asked though, reluctantly opening the door and holding the dress closed across her chest. His eyes did a swift once over, not in lust or anything inappropriate, but appraising and calculated. In his hands he held a pair of black heeled boots; the heel was not only shorter but wider as well.

“Put these on first…” she took them with one hand, unwilling to release her grip of the front of the gown.

“So why did you leave in the middle of the performance?” she asked, trying to distract herself as she slipped on the shoes. A near perfect fit.

“I just needed some air,” he replied, already kneeling before her in an obviously expensive suit, several pins stuck out the corner of his mouth. She held her breath, watching his deft fingers work along the hemline, pinning the fabric where it reached her ankles. A man of many talents…odd talents, but full of surprises.

Staring was rude, but Jane just help couldn’t help herself. She’ll be needing some air if she doesn’t get herself together. All she could think about was how those long fingers would feel brushing along her jaw, or moving through the short length of her hair. The man could be a model with those angles to his face, but Jane could swear she’d never seen a more gorgeous man than him.

His long black hair, the paleness of his complexion, those mischievous, vibrant green eyes. If Snow White had been a man, Jane was sure this man was him. And his eyes never wavered as he stood, pulling her wrist away and gathering the fabric in the valley between her breasts. She could hardly breath and he seemed entirely unaffected as he bunched the fabric, inserting two more pins to keep it together.

He stepped back abruptly and turned her around to face the mirror. He stood behind her, hands on her shoulders as he, too, studied her reflection in the mirror. He’d created a rather nice looking knot where he’d gathered the fabric, it almost looked like it belonged there. The v-neck was still lower than she’d normally wear, but he’d done a remarkable job covering her up. A cellist and seamstress...

“You look perfect. Even your make-up held up.”

“Thank you…for all your help – for everything.” she turned to face him, extending her hand, “I’m Jane.”

“A pleasure to meet you Jane. I’m Loki.” instead of shaking her hand, he knelt down to kiss the back of it. She couldn’t control her giggle.

She smiled, “That explains it then…”

“What?” he asked, gently releasing his hold.

“Loki…God of Mischief.” It was his turn to smile, and even look a little surprised.

“Ah, very good. Most people around here don’t know my namesake.”

“I’m not most people…” she said, and his smile only widened. It made him even more attractive if that was even possible. The blush tainted her cheeks and Jane ducked her head, retrieving her violin and making her way back to the auditorium.

“No Miss Foster, you are definitely not most people.”

Loki watched her leave, allowing her to get back and enter the auditorium alone. He didn’t need any gossip getting started. But he couldn’t stop smiling after meeting such a captivating and beautiful woman. Perfect complexion. Heart-shaped face. And her wide blue eyes, looking up at him with – ok, scorn – but also curiosity. And maybe even a touch of awe. But now was not the time to dwell on that.

He’d had his eye on her for some time, but he knew her from his astrophysics class. Her understanding and grasp of the subject awed him, and he’d spent several months just working up the nerve to talk to her. Instead he slams her in the face with a door. Hardly his best moment, but what’s done is done. The hard part is over, they’ve met, he knows her name and she knows his.

Turning out the light, he closed the door behind him, unable to lock it. The sound of her violin filled the halls and he picked up his pace, sneaking in the back stage door. He watched from the shadows, strangely proud of her for her determination to be here and not just give up. He was also proud of his own quick thinking - the dress really did look made for her. He’d have to remember to thank his mother later, despite always complaining when she taught him such feminine things.

After the show, he would offer her a ride home. Come Monday, he intended to start getting to know her and courting her properly.

#Lokane #band!au #messy meet #prompt #ask #replies #my writing #writing stuff #iamartemisday

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snailsarecute · 4 years

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1, 2, 7

1. name ur politically correct ship that no one ever questions-

Would that be like... Elizabeth/Darcy from P&P? 😅 Everyone seems to understand that one.

2. now name ur trash ship-

Reylo? I know all the potential pitfalls of their dynamic, but I still hella enjoy it. I don’t really get into the discourse of it, tho, it seems really harmful to fan communities.

7. what is ur guiltiest guilty fave fandom-

Overwatch, guiltily because there’s like no lore. I freaking adore McHanzo.

#my ships #asks and answers #iamartemisday

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caitlynlynch · 5 years

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iamartemisday replied to your post “By the way...”

Do you have some kind of speed-reading mutant power?

Yes. Yes I do.

My brother and I used to have competitions to see who could read a book fastest (same number of pages) and then would quiz each other on the plot (it had to be a book the other had already read) to make sure neither of us were cheating.

I got very fucking fast at it. Oh, and he’s 5 years older than me. I used to regularly beat him from age 10 or so onwards.

I once massively upset a guy on a 2-hour flight from Brisbane to Melbourne by reading The Da Vinci Code, cover to cover, during the flight (for the first time, too, I bought it in the airport bookshop). He got SO MAD, telling me he’d been reading the book for 2 months. Didn’t believe I’d actually read it properly.

I think I might have annoyed him even more by telling him it was hardly my fault he was a slow reader, but seriously, fuck that dude. Calling some woman you don’t even know a liar because she has a skill you don’t? That’s some shitty behaviour.

Thinking back, I should have just spoiled the ending for him. That would have been even MORE fun.

Speed-reading is a skill, and the more you practice, the better you get at it.

#iamartemisday #speedreading

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mcukinkbingo-archive · 4 years

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Hello, I sent a request to get some squares changed on my card a few days ago, and I was just wondering around when I can expect to get my new card? No rush or anything, just curious. :)

Hi there! We’re trying to get card changes out within a week of their request date, which is the same timeline as we’re attempting for card creation. However I (Mod Al) have an eye infection atm that is making it difficult to focus on screens for any significant period of time, so card creations/edits are slow going. Sorry for the wait!

- Mod Al

#mod al #card creation #card edits #iamartemisday

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iamartemisday · 5 years

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Natty Cat

Story by Artemis_Day

Art by Wolfsdrache

Link to story and art: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18917755

Rated G (no warnings apply)

5,900 words.

Steve/Natasha, background Bucky/Jane.

Everyone has secrets, and everyone has hobbies. Nobody could've expected Steve's secret hobby.

For @capreversebb 2019.

#caprbb #caprbb19 #caprbb2019 #Romanogers #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanov #iamartemisday #Wolfsdrache #fanfic #fanart #reverse big bang

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noquirkyurl · 5 years

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2, 5, 14, 20, 21

2 Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?* Stucky and Stony.

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?* LMAO - you picked the one that I consider myself to be legitimately salty about. So, I used to be very very very into ShieldShock. I even wrote a few things for the pairing, and for awhile they were my ride or die non-canon OTP. But in the lead up to Civil War I came across some mean!Girl fans who not only turned me off of ShieldShock but actually drove me out of fandom for awhile. I don’t hate the pairing and do still read it occasionally (and revisit old favorites) but it’s hard for me to root for them, so I don’t go looking for it.

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom? Darcyland is not always the supportive and inviting environment that it seems to be. If you write outside the box, if your kinks get a little too kinky, if you dare to write a beloved character as anything other than upstanding and righteous - you may find yourself the target of a slew of anon hate in your in box or hateful and horrible comments on your fic. It’s happened to me, it’s happened to more than a handful of people I’ve been friendly with. That may be the way it is in ALL corners of fandom... but there is definitely a sense of morality or kink policing that happens if you step out of line - even if your work is tagged and appropriately marked with warnings. And it all happens behind the scenes... just a series of anons on tumblr or ‘guests’ on Ao3 will descend on you to put you in your place. If you don’t have a thick skin, it sucks. Obviously I love it here, I’ve been here since 2013 and I love the people that I interact with. But it’s not all cheerleading and slumberparties anymore. Maybe it never was. I feel like an old lady, “back in my day...” *shrug*

20. What is the purest ship in the fandom? For me, in MCU fandom it’s Pepperony - hands down.

21. What are your thoughts on crack ships? I LOVE them. Oftentimes they end of being a serious OTP, I run in to trouble because I multi-ship like crazy and I’ll read most anything, so I’ll come across some crazy Rare Pair from a crossover (like Darcy/Jayne Cobb - *side eyes @jadziabear) and I love it SOOOO much that it actually hurts that more people don’t write it. :) I love crack ships.

#britt answers #@iamartemisday #yo ho yo ho #a fandom life for me #Salty Asks #iamartemisday

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gabbiki · 5 years

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Merry Christmas @iamartemisday!

Animated version here

From your not-so-secret-santa

I got really excited when I saw your Victorian AU prompt request.

#lokane #jane foster #loki #lokane gift exchange #mcu #marvel #lokane art #my art #iamartemisday

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iamstartraveller776 · 4 years

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2 and 73. :D

I’m assuming you mean Lokane for this one? I hope so, because that’s where I’m going!

Royal AU + Stranded Due to Inclement Weather

Since Loki’s already a royal in canon, I’d go with a Modern AU for this one (where the characters are in their early to mid twenties). Loki is the rebellious prince of some small made-up country in Scandinavia. Because of reasons. Let’s call it...Grenandal. His brother Thor is a bit of a troublemaker, too, but he’s kind of settling down lately in preparation for taking over the throne. He’s engaged to Sif. But Loki? Yeah, he’s not done having fun, much to his parent’s chagrin.

After getting her graduate degree, Jane has landed an internship with one of the scientists in residence in Grenandal, Dr. Erik Selvig. She’s excited to begin working in her chosen field with one of her heroes in a gorgeous country she’s never heard of. This is going to be great.

But here’s the problem: Loki occasionally likes to visit the astrophysics lab. It’s kind of his secret love, astrophysics. He’s actually a genius, but he learned long ago as a child that being a giant science nerd wasn’t cool. His brother made fun of him as well as his brother’s friends. Odin couldn’t care less that his second son was a natural-born STEM kid—there are more important things to focus on: politics et al. And once Loki figured out that he was never going to measure up to his big brother, he learned that bad attention was still attention, you know?

Anyway, he is the least problematic for Erik, though he initially tries to keep up his reckless devil-may-care persona, even when he comes to hang out with the master scientist. Over time, he’s dropped the facade, letting his enthusiasm leak through. The lab has become the one place where he doesn’t have to pretend. But it took a lot for him to trust Erik, that he wouldn’t give Loki’s secret away. And in walks this petite, headstrong young woman. And the mask is back up. Their first meeting goes horribly. Loki resents that this interloper has encroached on his safe space. He resents that she’s got Erik’s attention and time. So he’s kind of extra awful with her.

Jane, of course, despises him. She thinks he’s exactly what all the tabloids say he is, just a spoiled, narcissistic brat. She earned the right to be here, and he’s just meddling. Erik says that Loki isn’t as bad as she thinks he is (yes, a little twist on what canon gives us here), but Jane’s never seen anything but the jerk. She and Loki have a lot of fights, and yeah, okay, maybe sometimes she realizes that he actually knows something about astrophysics, but he’s such a dillwad, she’d rather he’d stay away.

Erik has been invited to some conference or another to present a paper he’s recently published, but at the same time there are some important readings happening in the night sky in the mountains of Grenandal. As Erik can’t be both places, and Jane can’t present for him at the conference, he’s decided to send Jane to collect data. It’s nearly Spring, so the weather should be fine, if a bit chilly. And oh, maybe Loki should go with her to help out. Jane’s like, “Yeah, thanks but I can handle this on my own.” Loki, on the other hand, is definitely going, if only to find a way to make Jane so miserable that she’ll quit the internship. (He’s not going to mess up the data collection, though. Because he likes Erik and science.)

The car ride is miserable. So much fighting; it’s like Loki can’t leave her alone. (He won’t.) And Jane is on the verge of murder or at the very least maiming him. But then a late winter storm hits and it’s bad. They’re caught in a blizzard on a small road. A patch of black ice in the road has them spinning until the vehicle crashes into a tree. Fortunately Jane and Loki are okay (thank you airbags), if a bit banged up. The engine is dead, and they stay in the car until it gets too cold. They have some cold weather gear, but not nearly enough for this type of storm. And there’s no cell phone service. Loki starts to get out of the car, and Jane thinks he’s crazy. But he tells her that they aren’t far from one of the properties his family owns, and there’s a cabin there that he and his brother used to hang out at in the summer when he was younger.

Turns out Loki is a bit more banged up than he let on, and Jane ends up having to help him trudge through the snow. It takes them an hour or two to find the cabin, and they’re both on the verge of hypothermia by the time they reach it. It’s nice, but it’s locked up tight. Loki throws his weight against the door a few times, swallowing down the pain, gritting his teeth. At the third try the lock breaks through the jamb and they get inside. Unfortunately, there isn’t power. But Loki rummages through the place until he can find a flashlight while Jane props a chair up against the door to keep it from swinging open in the gale.

Their luck turns for the better when they find a stack of firewood next to the hearth and a box of matches nearby. Loki starts a fire, trying his best to pretend that he’s not as injured as he is (a cracked rib or two and a badly sprained ankle). Jane is trying not to pretend that she’s freezing—like really freezing. She can’t seem to get warm despite the blankets she’s pilfered from the bedroom and the warm flames cackling in the fireplace. She’s shaking violently, and Loki finally notices. He curses and starts stripping down and tells her to do the same.

Jane, through blue lips, whispers, “Over my de...de...dead bo...body.”

Loki: “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not into girls built like prepubescent boys.”

Jane: “Ba...ba...bastard.”

Loki: “Yes, darling. Now strip or do I have to do it for you?”

He does end up having to help her. Because she’s shaking too badly. He manages to get them snuggled in blankets on top of the couch cushions he’s dragged over in front of the hearth. If she weren’t like a popsicle, he’d notice just how perfectly she fits against him. They eventually fall asleep this way.

When Jane wakes up, she’s a bit mortified. She manages to extricate herself from Loki without waking him, and gets dressed; her clothes have dried by the fire. She searches the kitchen, noting a few cans of food in the cupboard as well as tea and coffee. She’s grateful to discover that the water is still running and fills up the coffee maker. She looks through the windows, but has to stand on a chair since the snow drifts reach almost the top of the window. The storm as eased a bit, but it’s still snowing. Her phone still has no bars, and she shuts it off to preserve the battery.

Loki stirs with a groan. Now that she’s thawed out (only a couple of bruises from the accident), she notices that he’s trying very hard to hide how much pain he’s in. She finds a first aid kit in the bathroom and silently thanks her mom for signing her up for Girl Scouts back in the day (a futile attempt at helping Jane make friends with other girls her age) as she wraps Loki’s ankle. She finds some ziplock bags and makes a couple of ice packs using the wall of snow at the door. She has to help him back into his close; any movement on his left side causes him agony. She tries not to notice his physic (among other things) as she does. They spend the day with her taking care of them both, heating soup in the fireplace in the cast iron skillet she found in the cabinets.

Needing to survive has a funny way of taking the pettiness out of people. After exhausting their options (which is pretty much limited to staying put until the storm passes), they fall into silence. They stick to the main living area because of the fire; they keep it going just enough to ward off the worst of the chill. Jane explores the cabin for anything else they can use to make it through. There’s a small library in one of the bedrooms, but most of the books are in Grenandalian (which is kind of a combination of Icelandic and Norwegian). She grabs a couple of classic sci-fi novels that are in English. One by Ray Bradbury, the other by Isaac Asimov (a personal favorite of Jane’s since he was an actual scientist, too). After she opens one of the books, Loki asks her to read to him. It’ll help take his mind off the pain as the over-the-counter painkillers in the first aid kit are doing little for his aching ribs.

So, she reads to him. Fixes another canned meal that they share, then they lapse into silence. Eventually, she broaches it with a simple question. Why does he visit to the lab? After a couple of snarky comments that she calls B.S. on, he finally admits that maybe he finds science interesting. He’s not very forthcoming, though, but it’s enough to make Jane start to realize that maybe there’s more to the bad boy prince than she previously realized. They fall asleep together again for shared warmth, though they stay clothed.

Jane wakes first again, but something seems off. After a bit, she realizes that it’s Loki’s breathing. It’s shallow and, well, wet. His face is ashen, too, and she’s alarmed. She pulls up his shirt and sweater to check his injured side, and he hisses from the pain, though it comes out more like a gurgle. The bruise that was there yesterday has spread and it’s bright and ugly, the skin pulling tight. (I’m spitballing here; I would have done extensive research on internal injuries if I actually wrote this story.)

She’s freaking out because while the storm has passed, the drifts are still high and it’s still snowing just a bit. Loki needs help right now. Her first aid training in Girl Scouts didn’t cover this. Loki murmurs that there should be some kind of landline to the cabin. He thinks that there might be an old phone stored in the shed out back. She has to climb through the window because of the drifts and it’s hard work to get into the shed, but she manages it. She has to use the flashlight, and precious time seems to tick away as she searches through the boxes. There are photo albums and odds and ends, and yes! Finally! The phone. She climbs back out over the drift, trying to close the door behind her to protect the stuff from the snow, trudges back to the cabin, shimmies through the window. She checks on Loki, and he’s passed out, his breathing even more shallow.

She frantically plugs in the phone and almost cries with relief when she hears a tone through the receiver. She calls emergency services and does her best to tell them where she and Loki are. They give her advice on how to care for Loki while she waits. (Again, I’d research this!) It’s more than an hour when she hears the rescue helicopter.

She sits helpless by as the emergency responders quickly check Loki and get him on a gurney. She’s worried that there isn’t enough room for her to ride with them, that she’ll have to wait for other rescue services, but they usher into the chopper. During the ride, Loki codes and they’re able to get him breathing again, and his heart beating, but it’s terrifying for Jane. She may not have liked him, but he’d saved her from hypothermia, and she doesn’t wish death on him. She actually cares, and if this wasn’t so scary, she’d have to question how she really feels about him.

He’s rushed off to surgery at the hospital and she waits anxiously for hours. His family arrives—Thor and Frigga, at least. They want to know everything that happened. Thor doesn’t understand why Loki was on the trip at all (because the visits to the lab are Loki’s secret), and when he implies that it was a stupid thing for Loki to do, Jane is angry. She tells him off, explains that Loki is actually pretty damn amazing at science if anyone cared to notice, that he probably would make a fantastic research scientist if he weren’t forced to be in politics. She also says that she’d probably be dead if it weren’t for him. Thor is stunned, but fortunately not offended. Frigga watches the entire exchange with a shrewd expression.

The doctor comes then. Loki’s out of surgery, in recovery. The prognosis is good. (Medical stuff again that I’d research.) Once he’s moved into a private room, he can have visitors. Frigga has to basically strong-arm Jane into going back to her place to shower and change into clean clothes and get some rest. Jane does two of the three. She’s back at the hospital as fast as she can be. The nurses initially don’t want to let her have access to the prince until she gives her name. Turns out she’s on the list of approved visitors. It’s late at night, but Frigga is there. She smiles and says she’s not surprised to see Jane, offers her a seat. After a few long beats of silence, Frigga talks.

Frigga: “I sometimes wonder that we’ve done a disservice to him.”

Jane frowns, not understanding.

Frigga: “What would he have become if he hadn’t been forced into this life by virtue of birth?”

Jane: “A scientist?”

Frigga looks at her son, laughs softly, though it’s mirthless. “More than that, I think. Perhaps he’d actually be happy.”

Another beat of silence passes before Frigga speaks again. “He’s never had a friend—not a real one who isn’t interested in his status.” Frigga looks up at Jane. “I hope he’s found one now.”

She stands before Jane can respond. “I’m going to fill my husband in on his prognosis. I trust you’ll keep an eye on my boy?”

Jane nods.

After Frigga leaves, Jane pulls her chair closer to the bed. She’s thinking about what Frigga said. Can she be friends with Loki? She’s not sure. She doesn’t know if they’ll go back to old patterns, but she hopes not. Exhaustion finally overtakes her, and she curls up in the chair. She reaches for his hand just before she falls asleep.

She wakes hours later, his fingers are now twined with hers. His eyes are open, and the way he stares at her is a bit unsettling, like if he blinks she’ll disappear.

“You’re here,” he says in a voice raspy from being intubated during surgery.

“Yeah,” she says, and because the moment feels a little too big, a little too important, she adds, “I couldn’t let you die before I yelled at you properly for getting us stranded in the first place.”

The corner of his mouth curls at that. “You should be nicer to me. I saved your life.”

“I saved yours, so we’re even.”

He laughs at that, but it turns into a groan. They don’t talk more before he falls asleep again, but he doesn’t let got of her hand, and she doesn’t pull away.

Jane visits every day when he’s in the hospital. She reads to him from the book they started in the cabin, and when his family isn’t around, they talk science. He opens up just a little here and there, and she finally understands what Erik kept telling her, what Frigga implied that first night. They banter, but instead of angry invectives, it’s more playful teasing.

It’s a month after he’s been discharged, and they’re getting comfortable in their routine—he now visits the lab every day. (He’s been released from some of his princely duties, and we all know Frigga is behind that.) Erik leaves for the night, but Jane and Loki are still combing through data. (During Loki’s recovery, Erik was able to go and get the readings in the mountains.)

Loki abruptly stands up, and fetches Jane’s things. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

Jane raises her brows. “We are?”

“Hm, yes,” he says. “This is long overdue.”

Jane is confused, but she goes along with him. He takes her to the castle, a place she’s gotten to visit again a couple of weeks ago thanks to a dinner that Frigga threw in her honor. While it was nice, it was kind of stuffy. She had to wear a dress, and she spent the evening watching everyone else so she didn’t end up using the wrong fork and start an international incident.

Loki grabs her hand, takes through the building, ignoring the servants walking by. They climb several flights of stairs, and just when she wants to call “uncle”, they reach the top. This is clearly one of the turrets, but the roof is made of glass instead of stone.

Loki likes the awe that comes over Jane’s face. Aside from the lab and his chambers, this is the only other place that is fully his. It’s small, but it’s the original royal observatory. There’s a a large, archaic telescope that takes up the center of the room. He’d spent a good portion of his life restoring it, and this is the first time he’s shared it with someone who can truly appreciate it.

It’s a moment or two when Jane finally notices that there’s a table set up nearby with dinner.

“What’s this?” she asks.

Loki gives her his signature devilish grin. “In Grenandal, we call this a ‘date.’”

She narrows her eyes, though her stomach flutters. “A date?”

He steps close to her, humming in agreement.

“I thought you didn’t go for girls built like prepubescent boys,” she replies with a smirk of her own.

“I lied.” He leans forward like he’s going to kiss her, and Jane’s heart is fluttering in her chest.

“I though the kiss was supposed to come after the date,” she murmurs.

He smiles. “Now, Jane, when have you ever known me to follow the rules.”

And then he kisses her, and it’s magnificent and wonderful and everything.

Afterward they are glued to the hip, and Frigga approves.

THE END

#lokane #Lokane ff #loki x jane #star replies #iamartemisday #fanfiction trope mash up

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