Tumgik
#loki slowburn
use-your-telescope · 1 month
Text
When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 17: It's a Curse, It's a Sure Sign
Tumblr media
Summary: Theo and Chris accidentally make their red carpet debut at the Met Gala, to a night full of surprises. 
Author's Notes: Hi everyone! 
So first, I just want to say a big thanks for sticking with this and following along. If you happen to be one of the people who follows me on tumblr, you may know that the brain gremlins were hitting real hard this week and messing with me something fierce. I’ve had a temporary reprieve, but they still suck. I’m behind on replying to things, but I appreciate y’all the same.
Anyways, the next chapter won’t go up until two weeks from now, since I’m on call and then it’s midterms… So, keep an eye out on March 10th for the next update.
Contents: Canon-typical combat. Implied conflict between a couple? 
Word Count: 6,779
Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist Song: Monster - PVRIS
Where do I begin? I can't explain it Know you wasted (Twenty plus years) Like photos fading in, I see 'em changing All the faces (Waiting up all night) The Met Gala.
The motherfucking Met Gala.
If someone asked Theo a year ago if she could ever imagine herself attending, she would have laughed them out of the building — no, out of the country.
And yet, she stood on the steps to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in Alexander McQueen, paparazzi shouting her name from all sides as flash bulbs from cameras percolated her field of vision. Chris stood beside her, one hand on the small of her back as he flashed a blinding grin at the expanse of people before them.
They hadn’t planned to make the Met Gala their red carpet debut. Sure, they knew the other would be in attendance, and their management teams planned certain elements of the evening to ensure they would have time together… Once they got inside. However, one of the staff managing the procession of celebrities assumed that Theo had somehow been separated from Chris in the photo line-up, despite waiting with her fellow Avengers. Though Theo politely assured the staffer that she did not need to skip the line, the staffer only seemed more embarrassed by what they perceived as their mistake as Theo refused the offers to join Chris, until Theo relented out of pity and allowed the staffer to bring her over to where Chris posed for photographs. 
Naturally, paparazzi went wild asking for photos of the couple, and of course the oh-so-charming Chris had to accept. 
“I didn’t think we were taking photos tonight,” Chris leaned in and whispered in Theo’s ear; Theo feigned a smile, pretending to giggle at something he said so no one would catch onto the conversation. 
Chris looked back at the camera, shifting his weight to offer a fresh pose for photos.
Theo turned towards him, rising onto her tip toes so she could whisper her reply into his ear. “I know - the event staffer who brought me here thought it was a mix-up in the arrival order.” Theo lowered herself back to her feet as Chris leaned down, nodding at her to continue as he smiled for the cameras. “Despite my insistence that I didn’t need to take photos with you, she kept getting more and more embarrassed - I felt so bad that I finally said yes, just so she wouldn’t cry.” 
Straightening up, Chris turned and flashed a sweet smile to Theo that could have melted the iciest of hearts. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised - you’re always looking out for other people.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple to cheers from the crowd.
Before the conversation could continue, another staff member ushered Chris inside, while a third staff member instructed Theo to pose for solo photos. Without anyone else to make the experience less awkward, she tried to remember the tricks that the Avengers’ marketing team taught her about taking flattering photos. 
Either the time passed faster than Theo expected or the staff member in charge of moving the line took pity on her, because the next thing Theo knew she heard her teammates hollering at her, and turned to find them sauntering towards her. 
“Hey!” Theo cheered, arms wide in an enthusiastic greeting as her peers gathered around, everyone spacing themselves out and adjusting their clothes in preparation for group photos. 
“Thanks for ditching us back there,” Yelena teased with a wink, nudging Theo as she passed by. 
As Yelena spoke, Loki positioned himself to stand behind Theo. Dressed in a custom brocade suit so precisely tailored that it could have been painted onto him, there was no question that Loki would appear on the many “best dressed” lists that would be published in the coming days. He offered Theo a silent greeting in the form of a cheshire smirk and subtle nod, but that wasn’t what caught Theo’s attention.
“Your bowtie is crooked,” Theo pursed her lips, twisting away from the camera to fiddle with the piece of fabric around Loki’s neck. “How did you get this far into the photocall without noticing?"
“Darling, it’s fine,” Loki playfully swatted her hands away, all the while chuckling softly. “You need not fuss over me like a mother hen.”
Bucky snorted, watching the exchange from close by as he settled into position. 
“Watch out Buck, I’ll come fuss over you too.” Theo warned, earning a laugh out of Shuri, whose custom Wakandan attire brought a fresh interpretation to the Gala’s theme and somehow managed to be fun, trendy, and regal at the same time. 
Odds were high that Queen Ramonda had something to do with the regal part.  
Gathering the Avengers for a group photo was best compared to herding cats - getting over a dozen people to look at the same place and smile for the cameras at the same time without becoming distracted turned out to be much harder than Theo expected. After the first five minutes, the poor event staffers tasked with wrangling the Avengers gave up, allowing the Avengers to relax and chat with each other and take photos in smaller groups instead. 
There were natural groupings that photographers clamored for. The military boys - Steve, Bucky, Rhodes, and Sam - stood with heads held high and chests puffed ever-so-slightly, with hands resting at their sides as if they were about to be called to attention. If the quartet had chosen to wear their formal military attire instead of tuxedos, the United States government would have probably used the picture for military recruitment. 
Bruce, Tony, Peter, and Shuri - who for some reason had become known as ‘the science bros’ - also posed together for photographs. Unlike the soldiers, who posed with such uniformity that it was almost eerie, the varied level of comfort in front of the cameras and diverse personalities in this group created an almost humorous level of contrast. Tony and Shuri, whether because of their upbringings or infallible charisma, worked the photographers with charming jokes and quick banter, while Peter and Bruce seemed perfectly happy to laugh along and let their friends compete for the spotlight.
Other pairings were all but required: the Widows, the Asgardians, and the Wakandans took their turns in front of the cameras. Theo took photos alongside Dr. Strange, because the general public apparently loved the idea of two doctors who could both use magic, though in reality Theo had only ever talked to the man a few times. 
In between, photographers snapped pictures of the many assorted conversations, as well as snapping posed pictures of the people in said conversations. A second attempt to fix Loki’s bow tie was caught on camera, which subsequently led to a posed photo of Loki and Theo, as well as a photo of Loki and Theo with Wanda and Vision.
After holding a photogenic expression for enough time that her face hurt, Theo nearly jumped for joy when the event staff glanced at a clock, then moved as if to dismiss the Avengers; however, before they could make an announcement, a photographer shouted from the endless sea of faces: “Magic users – we need a group photo!” 
Entirely aware that even a moment of displeasure would infinitely be recorded on camera and plastered across the internet, Theo channeled her inner Chris by maintaining a forced enthusiasm, gesturing for the other three magic wielders to gather around. Sandwiched between Loki and Wanda, Theo wrapped her arms around her friends and flashed yet another smile for the infinite barrage of flashes.
Blinded by the lights, the announcement from the event staff that there was no more time for photos may as well have been a voice speaking from the heavens… A very tired, mildly exasperated voice, granted, but still, the news came as a relief.
“Finally – I’m starving!” Sam complained with a dramatic toss of his head backward, making it sound like he’d never eaten in his life. Realistically, they were 30 yards from the entrance - all they had to do was make it inside and there would be plenty of appetizers and drinks for them to nosh on as they toured the exhibition for which the Gala was meant to celebrate. 
This year, the Costume Institute’s exhibition had been titled: “The Anatomy of Fashion: Representations of the Human Body in Couture,” and the gala’s theme - “Body as Muse” - left a variety of options for how attendees could interpret the prompt. Theo, for example, wore a piece from Alexander McQueen’s  Anatomy ii collection - a one-sleeved gown made of sheer white tulle, the bodice and singular sleeve covered with intricate silver beading that depicted medical textbook-style illustrations of the female anatomy, while the skirt featured layers of gathered tulle that gave the overall piece a breezy, almost ethereal feel with every movement. 
Others took a more subtle approach: at first glance, the brocade of Loki’s suit appeared to be nothing more than a random print; however, upon closer inspection, the pattern depicted lotus imagery inspired by Georgia O’Keeffe paintings - long thought to be representations of the female anatomy, despite O’Keeffe’s denials of the connection. Regardless, flowers had a long history of affiliation with the female form; in Egyptian and Indian mythology, the lotus had very direct associations with female anatomy, so the suit still fit the theme.
Seeing red flags in the morning It's a warning, a warning (it's a sure sign) Where do I begin, I can't explain it Now you're wasted How could you let them do this to you?
From when they entered, it could have been some sort of fever dream: cocktails and passed appetizers as they toured the museum, passing through exhibitions with pauses for special entertainment in certain wings. Lush floral arrangements decorated the corridors and stairways, accented by soft uplighting that shifted tones based on the art in each respective gallery. Time passed in a blur of small talk and compliments interspersed with taking in the art around them. 
The only thing detracting from the fever dream was Chris.
He meant well. Of that, Theo was certain. 
But whenever Theo wanted to pause and really take in each piece of art, Chris wanted to find familiar faces and catch up; however, he insisted Theo accompany him. He never raised his voice or became aggressive, but the pleading tone and puppy dog eyes became more and more common as they continued through the museum.
The pleading became so incessant that Theo almost wished that their respective staff teams hadn’t planned for the pair to traverse the galleries together, relying on the dinner together to give the pair quality time together. 
Still, Theo did her best to grin and bear it, biting her tongue and smiling along when Chris ignored the multitude of masterpieces around them in favor of the hottest tiktok influencer. 
Once in a while, Theo looked around the room and caught Loki looking over at her. She almost wished he would swoop in and rescue her the way he had the first night, even if the thought made her a bad feminist. 
Luckily, it wasn’t long before everyone was ushered in for dinner, and she wasn’t alone - Loki and Wanda were both seated at the same table, while many of the Avengers weren’t far off. 
Theo told herself that she’d visit the museum  to actually view the art some other day - until then, it was time to play the role of socialite, which meant getting through this dinner.
Going on a whim trying to erase it Leaving traces (Sweat, blood, and tears dry) Your head on the pavement, know you're jaded Sick of playing (Waiting up all night)
Amidst the din of conversation and clinking silverware, the power cut out.
Breathy gasps and murmured comments rippled through the room. No one moved, wondering if the sudden darkness was meant to announce the night’s entertainment.
The only source of light in the room came from the electric candles in the centerpieces of the tables, which did little to offset the vast darkness of the massive room. 
From the corner of her eye, Theo spotted a pair of event staffers frantically running around the outskirts of the room.
“I don’t think this is intentional,” Theo warned, locking eyes with Loki and Wanda. “Something’s wrong.” 
Theo, Loki, and Wanda slowly rose to their, cradling orbs of light in hand as they searched for any clues about what was wrong.
The clang of metal against metal rang out, followed by heavy footsteps pounding against the ground at a furious pace; they stopped with a halt, interrupted by a heavy thud. 
Barely visible in the dark, Theo made out the vague silhouettes of the other Avengers standing at attention. 
Around the room, the guests remained in their seats, whispers of panic growing into a frenetic buzz as they desperately looked around for the source of what caused the disturbance while they struggled to adjust to the lack of light.
Bracing herself for the worst, Theo flicked her wrists, runes briefly flashing on each arm before her gown disappeared in a cosmic swirl, replaced by the armor Shuri crafted for her. 
A dark form slithered past, just skirting Theo’s line of sight, followed by a second.
“Shadow creatures!”
Theo barely managed to force the words out of her mouth before a gust of arctic air rushed past her, accompanied by a dark, sinewy limb that swallowed any trace of magical light. 
Chaos erupted. 
From the darkness, a barrage of shadow creatures descended upon the room. 
Guests knocked over chairs as they rushed for the exits, screaming and colliding with each other as they failed to navigate the gallery in the dark.
The creatures gave chase, tendrils of pitch black lashing out in every direction as if their sole intent was to destroy everything in sight. 
Theo made a beeline towards the exit. No stranger to mass casualty incidents, she knew that any bottlenecks would be a prime opportunity for shadow creatures to attack and maximize casualties. The best way to prevent the damage would be to monitor the exits.
She darted between people, climbing across overturned chairs and jumping from table to table when it was impossible to push through the crowd.
As she ran, Theo conjured up an entire galaxy’s worth of stars that floated overhead. With a sharp wave, they shot ahead to illuminate the path to the exit.
No longer obscured by the dark, a collection of shadow creatures situated in prime striking distance of the exit snarled, preparing to attack. 
“Doors!” She shouted, hoping any one of her teammates would know what she meant.
“On it—“ Tony, already in his Iron Man suit, zipped past overhead, hands outstretched as he fired a pair of blasts at the creatures.
The blasts landed right on target, making contact with the two creatures closest to the door. With a sharp, grating cry, they collapsed into nothing more than a pile of dust.
“We need to secure exits and evacuate civilians—“ Steve commanded, the comm in Theo’s suit making it sound like Steve was beside her. 
“We’re already on it,” Theo confirmed, using both hands to reshape the galaxy so it formed a protective tunnel around the exit. A shadow creature tried to launch itself through one side of the tunnel, only to disintegrate upon contact. 
At another exit, Wanda took a similar approach, leaving the others to guide the guests to the exit and go on the offensive. 
“There are a lot more of these things than usual,” Sam complained, whizzing around the room as he rained fire on the seemingly endless stream of creatures.
“They’re coming from deeper in the museum,” Loki observed, slicing through a beast with an enchanted daggers just before it landed a blow on Shuri. 
Theo glanced back, scanning the room to get a read on the situation. 
“We need to take them out at the source–” Natasha started, only to be interrupted by Bucky. “What the hell are those?” 
“What do you see?” Theo followed up, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she craned her neck in a futile attempt to get a look.
“They’re like shadow people, but their eyes are glowing!”
“How many?” 
“5 or 6–”
“Someone cover this exit,” Theo demanded, “I’m coming!” 
As if anticipating Theo’s response, Strange appeared beside her, silently nodding at her to go. 
Throwing white flags in the morning It's a warning, a warning (It's a sure fire) Going on a whim, try to erase it All the traces How could you let them do this to you?
Theo didn’t have to go far to find the answer to her question. Standing behind the closest horde of Shadow creatures were a group of humanoid creatures, composed of shadow except for the black clocks that hid their faces. True to Bucky’s description, the only visible feature happened to be their eyes, which glowed a sort of octarine color that Theo hadn’t seen since her time on Aneterra.
Ice shot through her veins. 
At the sight of Theo, one waved an arm; with a tendril of smoke, they called back the shadow creatures, leaving nothing but an empty hallway between the Avengers and the shadowed beings. Only the emergency lights provided any reprieve from the near-overwhelming darkness.
“Who are you?” Steve demanded, taking one step towards the beings.
They stepped back, but did not speak.
Steve took a second step forward, observing the figures for any sign that they might attack.
The same figure that dispelled the creatures extended an arm, curling a finger towards the group as a silent challenge. 
“Enough of this–” Tony flew towards the group; like a flock of startled birds, they scattered in different directions, teleporting between shadows to expedite their retreat. “Split up and track them down!” Steve didn’t even finish the command before Theo herself turned to shadow and gave chase.
Up the main staircase, around the corner, sprinting through room after room and occasionally using the shadows as a shortcut, Theo and the shadow being played a game of cat and mouse: the figure remained just far enough that Theo could catch a glimpse and not lose track, but the moment Theo drew near they pulled some sort of maneuver to distance themselves and keep the game going.
Somewhere in the modern art gallery, Theo took a corner too quickly and stumbled, dropping to her hands and knees with a grunt. The brief slip-up was all it took for her to lose sight of the figure.
“Fuck!” Without anyone around, Theo’s curse echoed through the empty gallery. She sat back on her knees, struggling to catch her breath as she wracked her mind for what to do.
After drawing a blank, Theo brought one hand to her ear, pressing on her comm. “Guys, I lost–”
“Ah, the Silver Shadow…” A deep voice interrupted; Theo whipped around, eyes skittering about the gallery as she failed to place the sound. 
“... I’ve heard much about you.”
Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse, it's a sure sign Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse, it's a sure sign Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse, it's a sure sign Monster, in your blood on a cold night Monster, it's a curse... How could you let them do this to you?
Unable to see the owner of the voice, the faintest gust of cold air and a sharp movement from the edge of Theo’s peripheral vision was the only warning Theo received before a blur of darkness careened towards her in some sort of an attack. 
She rolled to the side, barely escaping as what looked like some sort of blade slammed into the ground. Theo teleported backwards, rising to her feet and conjuring her blade. “I’m sorry, who are you?” 
Before Theo stood the figure that she assumed she had lost. With a curl of their fingers, they transformed before Theo’s eyes into a person. The cloak remained, obscuring everything except for the same eyes that glowed with octarine light. In one hand they held a shadow blade not dissimilar to Theo’s. 
The mystery person stepped towards Theo, but did not answer Theo’s question. Instead, The shrill cry of security alarms filled the air, a sharp contrast to the eerily empty room they stood in.
“Who are you?” Theo repeated the question as she stepped back and scanned her surroundings. 
“I’m… a fan, shall we say…” The figure drawled, holding out their hands in a sort of shrug. Beneath the hood, Theo imagined they offered some sort of impish grin.  “... Or not. It doesn’t matter.”
“Ah, weaponizing my pride. Well played,” Theo dryly replied, preparing an orb of magic in her free hand as she circled her opponent. “Do you have a name?”
“Not that you need to know.”  In turn, the figure spun their blade in their hand, and braced for attack.
“Tall, dark, and spooky it is, then.” Theo taunted, pointing the tip of her blade at her opponent. “Okay, let’s get the whole Shakespearean monologue about my inevitable doom over with, shall we?”
Her enemy laughed. “If you’d like to rush your death, be my guest!” 
The figure charged forward, blade held high as they launched an attack. 
Theo leapt back, parrying the blow before landing a hit on the mystery figure’s side. “You must either be very brave or very stupid to face me alone.”
The figure hardly faltered, absorbing the blow as if it were nothing. 
This wasn’t a normal person.
As the figure stumbled, they raised a hand and shot a ray of black electricity forward, hitting Theo. 
She froze, muscles tense as searing bolts of electricity tore through her body; as quickly as it started, it stopped, and Theo crumpled to the floor.
“You’re a spellcaster–” Theo choked out, pain ricocheting through her limbs as she pressed herself to her hands and knees. “... Should have seen that coming.” 
“That’s far from our only similarity,” The figure observed, tilting its head to the side as it waited for Theo’s next move. “For someone who is a sciondéité, you certainly aren’t the challenge I expected.” 
They knew.
It wasn’t the first time someone tried to use her identity against her and get into her head, but it certainly had been long enough that the comment caught her off guard, particularly with the circumstances. However, the other person failed to account for one important detail: Theo loved nothing more than proving people wrong.
Pulling herself back to her feet, Theo took advantage of the pause to conjure a collection of stars above her head. 
Theo charged forward and resumed the duel, firing the first of the stars at the figure as she took a swing.
They avoided Theo’s blade, but cried out as the star slashed their skin, drops of blood glistening against the stone floor. 
With a snarl, they brought their blade around in a dramatic swing, only to be blocked by Theo; they parried Theo’s next hit, then slashed Theo’s other shoulder.
“Rude - this is a new suit!” Theo hissed as white hot pain rushed through her arm. She lunged forward and continued to attack her opponent, landing one hit before spinning behind them and slicing into their other arm. 
The figure staggered back, only pausing for a moment before they charged back into the fight.
This time, Theo blocked both the distraction strike and the actual hit.
Her opponent hadn’t even finished their swing before Theo sent another pair of stars at the figure, both of which sliced the figures’ legs.
With her foe distracted by trying to catch their balance, Theo shot an arm out and snatched their arm. She clenched her jaw as a series of runes slithered off of her hand, weaving together into an intricate pattern of black and white that surrounded her opponent. 
“This has been a delightful little game,” Theo drawled, “but I have better shit to do than stroke your fragile ego.”
Theo tightened her grip. Beneath her touch, the figure’s arm shriveled; if it weren’t for the being’s sleeve, Theo would have felt the flesh turn necrotic beneath her touch, watching in the dim light as it turned black and rotted away, while the wound on Theo’s arm stitched itself back shut. 
The energy stolen from Theo’s opponent would not be enough to heal her by any means, but enough to ensure she could make the most of the situation. The logical part of Theo’s mind insisted that she ought to just kill this person outright, but the comment about Theo’s identity unleashed a special kind of monster within, and she wanted answers. 
“You’re debating whether to kill me--” The figure taunted, wrenching itself free from Theo’s grasp before launching into a series of swings and parries. Each fighter took as many hits as they blocked. “You want to know who I am though, so it’s stopping you.” 
“Aren’t you clever,” Theo wryly observed, flipping back over the last swing as she cast a magical restraint around the person’s feet. As she landed, she dropped into a crouch and swept her leg around, knocking them off balance. 
Before her opponent could hit the ground, they teleported. 
“The shadow creatures were the warm-up act, but you were the real show - at least, that’s what you’d like to think–” Theo whipped around just in time to catch a glimpse of the figure swinging down, striking her collarbone. 
Theo barely hit the ground before a foot came crashing into her side, knocking the air out of her. “I doubt you’ll live long enough to see the grand finale.”
From where she laid on the ground, an unsettling heat radiated through her body. Though unpleasant, Theo recognized the sensation - an enchanted blow, a move Theo used quite often. If she moved before breaking the spell, she’d be in a world of hurt. 
With a flick of her wrist, Theo silently removed the enchantment. The moment the heat dissipated, she staggered to her feet, rolling her shoulders as she faced her opponent. 
“A grand finale?” Theo inquired, tilting her neck side to side as she stretched the muscles. “Do tell…”
The figure simply curled their finger at her, an invitation to attack. 
Barreling forward, Theo landed a slice into their side as they managed to land a punch on her face. 
Both parties stumbled backwards, panting heavily as they glared at each other. A metallic, tangy taste flooded Theo’s mouth. 
“Who are you?” Theo pressed another time, this time far sharper than before.
“Apparently more of a threat than you thought,” they sneered, smirking despite the blood dripping from their body and their haggard posture.
“I’m done playing,” Theo warned. She turned her head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood, then brought her attention back to the figure and stepped closer. “This can go one of two ways - you tell me who you are and who sent you, and I’ll make your death short and painless. Or, you say nothing, and I will make you endure pain like you’ve never felt, drawn out until your dying breath.”
“I would die a martyr,” they replied, mimicking Theo’s motions; despite their words, the faintest trace of fear lurked in their eyes.
Theo dispelled her blade. With a sharp breath, Theo cupped her hands, the runes on her arms transforming into miniature constellations that she cradled in each hand. “If that’s your decision, I’m going to ensure your life is put to far better use than whatever you think you’re dying for.”
Two clusters of tendrils shot out from Theo’s hands. The first launched wrapped around the figure, overpowering her opponent and pulling them close, while the second dispersed itself into the environment around her, creating a protective barrier. 
“Here’s the thing--” Venom dripped from Theo’s words as the figure struggled to free itself from her grip. “Your buddies have been killing innocent people, and not only did you ruin my date, you’re interrupting my time to heal people that were caught in the crossfire.” 
The enemy fought harder, howling with pain as they were crushed by the tendrils; Theo simply tightened the tendrils around them. A devilish smile curled over Theo’s lips as she felt the life drain from her enemy. 
“I warned you that fighting me was foolish, and you ignored me,” Theo hissed, pulling the figure close enough to spit a second mouthful of blood at them. “However, if you really know me, you know what I’m capable of - and charging in here, pissing me off, and hurting people I care about - that was perhaps one of the most idiotic things you could possibly do. I can, and will, make you suffer. And whoever sent you, I will find them, and I will make them pay.”
The shrieks grew louder as more life drained from the figure. As they writhed in the air, Theo directed the stars she previously conjured to swarm around her enemy, slicing into their limbs just deep enough to be violently uncomfortable without being lethal. 
Frankly, Theo wasn’t interested in damage - they would die soon enough. 
No, she wanted whoever this was to suffer. 
Wrapping the tendril of magic around the figure’s face, Theo muffled their screams. A sick sort of joy filled Theo as she watched her attacker lose the vigor they’d previously fought with, to the point where they could barely move. 
“I thank you for your cooperation.” With one final push, Theo drained the last of the life from the figure. 
Even after the figure’s eyes rolled back and they ceased moving, Theo waited a moment before dropping the spell.
The moment the tendrils recoiled into Theo’s hands, she felt the consequences of her recklessness. Her head throbbed in time with her pulse, while her stomach churned in the sort of way where she knew that if she even looked at food, she would be sick. 
Theo hunched over, bracing her hands on her knees and forcing herself to take in a deep breath. Realistically, her head probably hurt from being punched, but the voice of reason in Theo’s mind pointed out that the area where she had been punched wasn’t what hurt so damn bad. 
With a shaking hand, Theo reached up to activate her comms and check in with the others, only to find it had fallen out at some point. No matter - they’d come looking for her eventually.
While she waited, she figured it was worth learning a bit more about who exactly came after her. 
Theo cautiously approached the body of the mysterious figure.
The crumpled heap of a corpse laid face-down, cloak spread wide as if covering the carnage beneath. In a moment of thoughtlessness, Theo kicked the lump to try to roll it over, only to hiss at the pain from her foot against the surprisingly dense body. 
Regrouping her efforts, Theo carefully pressed the bottom of her foot against what felt like a shoulder, then pushed until it flopped onto its back. The hood of the cloak fell back. Spider-like black veins marred its sickly complexion, to the extent that Theo could have spotted every capillary. She combed over the rest of the corpse, not entirely expecting to find anything; yet, one look at their hands stopped Theo cold in her tracks.
Their hands contained a series of intricate tattoos of runes, rings, and lines. Theo didn’t recognize this pattern specifically, but there was enough overlap with the designs that she did know for her to have a pretty strong idea how they might be connected. 
A chill shot down her spine, invisible vise tightening around her chest as the throbbing in her head intensified..
…”Theo? Theo, are you here?!”
Multiple voices calling for Theo, paired with thundering feet against stone floors, pulled Theo back to the present.
“I’m in here!” Theo called over her shoulder, her voice cracking on the word ‘here. Theo shook her head and blinked a couple times to try and clear her head; she may have been new to the Avengers, but she knew they’d have questions when they finally arrived.
A buzzing sound filled the air; moments later, the lights flickered, staying on. Unfortunately, Theo barely had a moment to take in her attacker beneath the lights before the sound of footsteps and voices suddenly came to a halt. 
“..Holy shit.”
When Theo turned towards the voice, she found Tony, Steve, Natasha, Bucky, and Loki all staring at her, her wide-eyed and slack jawed as they took in the aftermath of the fight.
As Theo stared back, nothing but the sound of alarms and heavy breathing filled the room. Theo’s heart pounded in her ears, but she knew better than to think anyone else could hear that.
“Hey, quick question,” Tony finally broke the silence, attention flitting between Theo and the rest of the gallery. “What the fuck happened here?”
Feeling something warm dripping down her face, Theo reached up and wiped her nose; she  pulled her hand away to find a smudge of something dark came with it. She hadn’t been hit in the nose - another sign she had overexerted herself. 
“Someone tried to kill me, obviously.” Theo dryly answered, rolling her eyes. “Are you all okay?”
Natasha nodded dumbly, eyes wide as she took in sight of Theo.
“Why do you look like shit?” Bucky blurted out, narrowing his eyes at Theo. 
“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Theo muttered, pinching her nose in an attempt to stop some of the bleeding. Every word may as well have been a pickaxe against her skull; it took every ounce of Theo’s composure not to let her misery show. When she received nothing more than arched brows, wide eyes, and silence from the rest of the team, Theo spoke up once more. “What, is there something on my face?” 
The question was meant to be sarcastic, knowing full-well that she had a bloody nose and a gash on her collarbone, among other things, but also break the awkward silence. 
“Yeah, blood.” Bucky shot back, mimicking Theo’s sarcasm. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”
Theo couldn’t help the smirk that came up from Bucky’s retort, though she winced as her head throbbed. Behind him, she caught sight of a familiar painting that had been slashed in the fighting…
There were many things Theo could tolerate, but destroying art was not one of them. 
“Well I’m going to fix that painting quickly before we go.” Theo briskly stepped past the others, blatantly ignoring the way they all stared at her as though she had a third head. 
Ignoring the stares was easier said than done, given how exposed she felt and the sinking feeling from seeing the hand tattoos, but stubborn pride meant she wasn’t about to let her guard down.
“You’re going to ignore what happened here?” Steve gestured to the room, openly flabbergasted by Theo’s statement.
Theo back, turned, scanning the surroundings. Amidst the knocked over podiums, streaks and splatters of deep red already started to turn brown all around the room; between the darkness and the focus on her opponent, Theo hadn’t even realized the mess she made. If she was entirely honest, she wasn’t even sure how much was hers and how much was the other person’s blood. 
Either way, she wasn’t keen to have the conversation that she suspected Steve wanted to have - this person clearly came after Theo. It’s not her fault things had to get bloody.
Waving one hand, a mist of white settled over the room, cleaning up the mess and sending a particularly vicious throb of pain through Theo’s head.
Theo turned back to Steve, pausing to give him the most sardonic expression she could manage as she replied: “Talking about this is a tomorrow problem. I have bigger priorities.” 
Steve didn’t say anything else, allowing Theo to pass by unchecked. 
Once Theo stood close enough to touch the painting in question, she held up one hand, a thin wisp of white emerging from her palm as she began to reconnect the canvas where it was sliced.
Loki cautiously sidled up to Theo, moving in a way that reminded Theo of how someone might approach an aggressive dog. In contrast, the way he studied Theo instead of the painting felt far too intentional for anyone’s good. 
“You need medical attention.” Loki made the comment with a brusque sort of detachment that Theo almost appreciated, were it not for the fact that he continued to dissect her beneath his gaze.
“I’m fine.” Theo huffed, refusing to look at Loki.
“Should I be concerned that you are more focused on repairing a painting than caring for yourself?” 
“I’ll be fine - nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Theo retorted, trying to ignore the pain coursing through her head. “The painting, however,  can’t repair itself.” 
From the corner of Theo’s eye, Loki scowled; he shifted his weight between both legs as he ran one hand through his hair. “You couldn’t do both?”
“No.” Theo simply answered, not even looking away from the painting. She wasn’t about to get into the fact she already overexerted herself and was still overexerting herself to fix a painting - that would certainly piss him off.
“Given your response to Rogers, I’m assuming you’d rather not discuss what led to your current state?” 
“Wow, you are just full of astute observations.” Theo shot a withering glare his way before returning her focus to the painting. 
The longer he distracted her, the longer it would take to finish fixing the art, and the longer it would take before she could go home and try to forget about what happened, so she needed Loki to at least shut up for a minute. 
Loki was no fool - though he stayed firmly by her side, he didn’t say another word until Theo finished repairing the painting.
“The painting - it reminds me of the art in your quarters…” Unlike his previous statement, this time Loki took a much softer tone, observational and almost amiable.
Something soft twisted in Theo’s chest.
“It's Van Gogh…” Theo looked up at the painting - Portrait of Joseph Roulin - and smiled.  “Nice to see one in the flesh.” 
“You mentioned him previously–” Loki commented, glancing at Theo with an arched brow. “– A favorite, if I remember correctly.”
Theo couldn’t completely bite back the smile that came from realizing Loki made a point to remember her favorite artist. “Yeah, he’s my favorite.”
“What draws you to his work?” 
“He’s one of the defining artists of post-impressionism. He reimagined the way we see and use color; how we look at light and dark.” Theo moved closer, examining the spot she repaired. “Using blues and pinks in a beard to convey highlights and depth like this? Not a thing before. And yet, it still conveys the image without disrupting the brain’s ability to process what it is.” 
Loki hummed, narrowing his eyes as he inspected the area of the painting Theo had pointed to while mulling over the answer.
“I wish we had more time to actually look at the art tonight...” Theo stepped back from the painting, letting out a sigh as she glanced over her shoulder at the others. “Then again, I wish the night hadn’t been completely derailed by fucking shadow creatures. But that’s just how it goes when you’re an Avenger, I guess.”
“Maybe one of these days we’ll have to return, simply for our own enjoyment.” Loki mused, offering a hesitant smile to the sorceress. 
“Sounds fun.” She nodded, giving him a tired smile in return. As much as she liked the idea of a trip to the museum, she knew she needed to check in on the emergency response and make sure anyone who was injured received proper medical attention. That wasn’t even considering how she should probably find Chris and make sure he was alright. But at the end of the day, all she really wanted to do was go home, shower, take some aleve, sleep, and try to forget what she just saw. 
Or, if nothing else, brace herself for what was to come.
How could you let them turn you into a monster? Your bridge started to burn when you ran all across it I guess you never learn 'til you live and you lost it Live and you lost it How could you let them turn you into a monster? Your bridge started to burn when you ran all across it I guess you never learn 'til you live and you lost it Live and you lost it
19 notes · View notes
gingerwritess · 2 years
Note
"I'm gonna burn this place to the ground." idk about you but to me that sounds like a good prompt for pre-dating idiots 👀
lol remember when the first trailer came out and we collectively lost our shit when loki said this?? aw. simpler times :’)
consider this the next part of pre-dating idiots!! woo!! pls be nice to me it’s been years
warnings: ooc?? I haven’t written for him in two (?) years?? injuries, pain, angst, the usual.
They’re both victims of the same incompetence, in all honesty.
A father who lied to them both, and a mother...
She was complicit.
Thor hates admitting it. Loki can’t decide if it makes things better or worse.
Thor needs to go see him. He knows it’s what needs to be done, and will have to happen eventually, but every time he approaches room 203, he just keeps walking and promises to do it tomorrow.
They have...too much to discuss. It’s intimidating.
Thor finds it too easy to use Loki’s necessary healing as an excuse not to disturb him.
You’re the one who finally make him do it, open the door and actually talk to him.
You’re on a business trip—managing some project on international relations following the attack on New York, from what he gathers—and won’t be back for about a month.
“Don’t let him ruin his progress,” you told him the day you left. “Please.”
At that, Thor dredged up enough conscience to feel bad for letting you think he’s been visiting Loki every other day.
You’re proud of him. It’s a good feeling.
He doesn’t want to lose it.
So he smiled and promised to keep his brother company, keep him smiling and healing and that he’ll be in even better shape when you return.
You’ll be back in a week and a half now, and he has yet to cross the threshold.
It’s only after Cap, Tony, and the others come to a decision with the local authorities and task him with breaking the news to Loki that he finally goes to him.
Even still, he doesn’t know where to start.
Loki is on his stomach when Thor walks in, still bedridden and bleeding with exhaustion in his gaunt eyes when he meets his gaze from the doorway.
“Come to gloat?”
His voice is hoarse—missing the tease, the careless grin and sly plot that used to tinge his words. It makes Thor bare his teeth in a slight grimace, wanting to be angry with him, fingers curled tight around the handle of mjolnir.
“I’ve come to...talk.” He clears his throat and takes the first shaky step towards the hospital bed. “We have much to discuss.”
“Well, consider me intrigued.” Loki’s lips curl into a cruel smirk, even smushed into his pillow. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”
“Stop that,” Thor snarls, taking a few more sudden steps towards him. “Now isn’t the time for–for...for you.”
“Ah. In that case, please, pull up a chair.”
He does, glancing around the room. It’s drab, with just one window and a hint of sunlight peeking through the closed blinds. An untouched tray of food sits on the bedside table.
They sit there in silence for too long before Thor speaks.
“You’re a frost giant.”
Loki just gives a hollow laugh. “That’s where you’d like to begin?”
“He lied to me, too,” Thor says. “I thought you were my—I thought you were Asgardian. My whole life.”
“That must have been difficult for you.”
“I—I knew you were different,” he pushes on, electing to ignore that jab, “I could see that, but you...”
“You trusted Odin completely, didn’t you?”
Thor nods slowly. “He’s my father. I...still do.”
At that, his brother turns his head to stare at the wall instead of him. He cut his hair. It’s choppy against his neck—Loki couldn’t have done it himself, not with his shoulder in that state and still in a sling.
“Odin,” comes Loki’s hiss, “raised us to hunt frost giants.”
Thor straightens in his seat, frowning at the back of his brothers head. “He raised us to be warriors, wary of likely enemies.”
“He raised us to kill. He gave you the power to destroy their entire realm.” His head flips over on the pillow to reveal painfully bloodshot eyes, and he shoves a finger at the hammer in Thor’s hands. “Don’t tell me that was benevolence. He took their lifeforce, held a threat over their heads, and called it peace.”
Swallowing thickly, Thor’s gaze drops to the hammer. His next words are out before he can think better of them.
“And yet I wasn’t the one who tried to destroy their realm.”
Loki falls silent again, gaze burning into Thor’s, glistening, his jaw clenched tight. A vein near his temple bulges, and Thor wishes he could take it back. Wishes Loki hadn’t begged him to fight him, hadn’t let go all those months ago.
“Leave,” Loki chokes.
Thor clears his throat. “I came to tell you that the council has come to a decision on your sentence.”
“Leave,” Loki just says again, gathering the sheets in a shaking fist. “Get out.”
“Stark and the Captain spoke with Midgardian authorities, and they decided you must serve a sentence here before being turned over to Asgard.”
“Just passing me around, are you—”
“You broke the law,” Thor grits out, rising to his feet. “You killed people, you destroyed buildings, you tried to destroy an entire realm—”
“And I killed my true father,” Loki hisses, trying to push himself up on the hospital bed. “I abducted Clint Barton and made him kill for me. I let Jotuns into our palace on your coronation day, knowing they craved blood. I lied to Frigga, I stole the throne, I committed treason, I—”
“Then you see what must be done,” Thor cries, flinging a hand towards him. “You know you’re unstable, you need—you need help!”
“I wake up every single day,” he spits, heaving himself into a sitting position, “disappointed that I’m still breathing. I’ve tried to end it, I’ve tried it myself, I’ve even brought that–that mortal into it, and she couldn’t even kill me.”
“Oh, that’s an entirely different discussion—”
“So what is it?” Hunched forward with his arms hugging his knees, Loki stares at him. Those eyes are empty—Thor hoped to at least see pain in them. “What is my punishment? Am I to be executed, or are we saving that special event for Odin and Frigga?”
“Don’t,” Thor growls. His fist tightens around mjolnir. “They still protected you and raised you as their own. You owe them that much.”
Loki gives a hollow, rattling laugh. “Odin raised me like a prize boar for slaughter. He told me. He wanted to use me to unite our realms. I’m no better than the last empty treaty he wrote.”
“He spoke of us as equals,” Thor quietly argues. “Weren’t you happy? As a child? We...we had fun. I know we did.”
Loki swallows thickly, casting his gaze towards the ceiling.
I know we did. The two of them were inseparable, through every phase of their life. Thor’s friends were Loki’s, and the merry little group had centuries of adventures, victories, parties they shared with him. Frigga and Odin had loved the two of them as their sons, as their sons equally. He knows it.
“Can you even fathom your reality being a lie?”
Thor blinks, wishing Loki would look at him.
“No,” Loki laughs softly, “you can’t.”
Thor stands abruptly, knocking his chair over in the process. “You’ll lead a life of misery and disappointment,” he says, “if you keep thinking the worst of everyone. Especially yourself.”
Loki laughs again—it’s missing all humor. “Oh, fuck off.”
“Fine.” Thor stiffens, his jaw clenched painfully. “On behalf of Midgardian officials, you are sentenced to five years imprisonment and full responsibility for damages caused by your insurrection. After those years, you will return to Asgard with me for your trial.”
“Lovely. Looking forward to it.”
That’s the final straw—that, and how Loki closes his eyes and relaxes back onto his pillow, seemingly unbothered.
Thor surges forward with a snarl and grabs Loki by the shoulders, shoving him back against the pillows.
“You could at least pretend to regret this,” he seethes, giving his brother a good shake. “If you even gave our father half of an apology, an explanation, we could move past this.”
Eyes wide but jaw firmly set, Loki struggles against him, trying to wrench his injured arm from Thor’s grip. “Oh, please,” he grunts, “it’s been nearly a year since I came back from the dead. Neither of my so-called parents have expressed the slightest interest in seeing me.”
Thor’s grip tightens—Loki grits his teeth, biting back a whimper of pain as his fingertips dig into a barely scabbed wound.
“I wanted to apologize to you,” Thor admits, his chest heaving with the effort of holding Loki pinned. “But I don’t know if you even want that. Or deserve it.”
“Let go of me.”
He doesn’t.
Still writhing, Loki’s lips curl back, and he throws his head forward, bracing for the inevitable pain. His forehead hits Thor’s chin with a loud crack, and Thor staggers back with a shout—Loki’s not in much better shape, blinking rapidly to clear the spots that blur his vision.
“Five years,” Loki hisses, “is nothing to you and I.”
“Your true punishment will be from Asgard,” Thor replies harshly, a hand to his jaw as he stumbles towards the door. “Don’t get too comfortable.”
“Well, when we go home,” Loki spits, his hands shaking, “Maybe I’ll burn that place to the ground.”
160 notes · View notes
darrensomft · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Master post for The untimely demise of Mobius M Mobius comic that I’ll be updating as we go💫
Thank you guys for every comment and every lil screech in the tags💚 you’re the highlight of my day🤲💚✨
(pages 1-29)
tag list💚
@shiskabubble @natendo-art @revenge-of-the-assbutt
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
That's the end of Side A 🤲💚✨
Tumblr media
Cassete player button clicks and our journey begins (That's the start of side B)✨💫✨
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
305 notes · View notes
scifrey · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
FALL
Loki has fallen for false promises, fallen for Odin's lies, fallen off of a bridge, fallen into the wrong hands... can he let himself fall into the arms of a potential rescuer? Or will he just end up falling for another trick?
Inspired by Okay but what if Mobius meets Loki from Thor 1, while he’s searching for his Loki? by Alice Rovai.
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: discussion of off screen torture
Category: M/M
Fandoms: Loki (TV 2021), Thor (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Characters: Loki (Marvel), Mobius M. Mobius
Language: English
Length: Short story series
Notes: Beta'd by Janto321
42 notes · View notes
prince-liest · 2 years
Text
Every time I think I've recovered from my absolutely heinous taste in faves, another flamboyant gremlin who breaks the Geneva convention as a hobby comes around and I am proven HORRIFICALLY INCORRECT.
Anyways, the dearth of Qi Rong-centric fics is a crime perpetrated against me personally.
54 notes · View notes
babydollfoster · 1 year
Text
does anyone want me to post my incomplete slowburn fics that i may or may not pick up in the future (check tags for options!)
or will they just stay in my google docs
8 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media
Songs of the Wicked - Chapter Two (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1217145427-songs-of-the-wicked-chapter-two?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=SamiRuskey&wp_originator=m0XsKwgfwoGcsqAlUexTe%2FqCoIC4Vk7gt22QIcIeSGCVw0CBs8Hy7WVv5xo%2F%2BsgBsY%2FBU%2Fr5kBMI9CX1dYZM5QTtOrfQpQrukiLK3QmBvWXbA3PkiFllnJIW9sJVp1J3 The Ghost of Manhattan has the entire city stumped. Somehow this burglar is managing to get behind even the most securely locked doors. No one knows who they're looking for, but no one would suspect the small and unassuming Eloise Brackett. This makes it the perfect gig for someone with Eloise's gifts. When the Battle of New York breaks out, it looks like the perfect time to capitalize on the chaos. That's when everything starts to collapse around her. She finds herself in the center of a scandal with a god she'd never believed in at an agency that didn't exist. The only problem is the crime she's being held accountable was one she didn't actually commit. How will she convince this agency that she's innocent when they have indisputable proof of her guilt with only the most infamous liar in history as her only potential ally?
3 notes · View notes
le-panda-chocovore · 1 year
Link
Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Iron Man (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark, Loki & Tony Stark, Iron Frost Characters: Tony Stark, Loki (Marvel), Loki, Thor (Marvel), Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Pepper Potts, Peter Parker, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Jarvis (Iron Man movies) 
Additional Tags: Avengers Tower, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Stark Tower, Sassy Tony Stark, Sassy Loki (Marvel), Sexy, Bad Jokes, Magic, Irony, Sarcasm, Drama, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Drama & Romance, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony Stark Has Issues, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Thor is a Good Bro (Marvel), Odin's Bad Parenting (Marvel), Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Loki Needs a Hug (Marvel), They both need therapy, It will be way too long, Sorry Not Sorry, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Could Be Canon, Alternate Canon, Canon Rewrite, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, How Do I Tag, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Bisexual Tony Stark
  Summary:
ASGARD — Le criminel, prince, magicien, et vaniteux Loki est jugé impitoyablement pour sa tentative d'asservissement du peuple humain, sa trahison envers ses devoirs de protecteur des 9 royaumes, et de la manipulation illégale du Tesseract à des fins destructrices. TERRE — Le génie, playboy, milliardaire, philanthrope Tony Stark, peinant à se remettre de son expérience de mort imminente qu'il a vécu en tentant de défendre sa ville en tant qu'Iron Man, est tenu éveillé chaque nuit par les cauchemars qui le hantent et la crainte d'une autre attaque extraterrestre.
Et, à des millions de milliards d'années lumières de distance, ces opposés pourtant si similaires se rencontrent.
0 notes
aflowerthatbloomed · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
˚。⋆enchanting ˚。⋆ (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/317943782-%CB%9A%EF%BD%A1%E2%8B%86enchanting-%CB%9A%EF%BD%A1%E2%8B%86?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=shebloomedthere&wp_originator=4bzrglnD2jOf3yHg7LP3svpmZ5hYodrBm99V%2BvnU69iE70pJiffIXIkcaGPX0EJf9ofGEp9gM7gymlmwOAvj4yaGR2fdkH%2B%2BvH0JU2JVBAL7qUZ7AuSaoOv2W6AKB5Rz ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ━━━━━━━━━ * ˚ ✦ a freshman in college wants nothing more than to complete her creative writing essay before the first quarter ends. smart, silly, and a bit oblivious aurora cannonsburg is the definition of a sharp student. though one morning she is late for one of her lectures and her perfect little routine is corrupted by two men who have always been in her life but now just seem a little more enchanting. sebstian stan is an ex-punk rock star who now runs a kitschy little diner and is always there for the girl whenever she needs though he would never admit he cares---and tom hiddleston her professor who seemed to develop an odd sense of admiration for the girl. though she never quite understood her enchantment with these men. ━━━━━━━━━ * ˚ ✦ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘵𝘤 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦 ˚。⋆୨୧˚
1 note · View note
munson-blurbs · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)
♫ Summary: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head. (3.1k words)
♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)
♫ A/N: Thank you to my numerous beta readers, including but not limited to @the-unforgivenn, @lofaewrites, @lokis-army-77, and @corroded-hellfire, and to @hellfire--cult for the divider. I am forever indebted to y'all.
chapter one: room for one more
It was always the quiet nights, wasn't it? The ones where the only sounds came from cars barreling down Queens Boulevard and splashing through puddles left by an earlier rainstorm, or from the clock ticking on the wall. 
The ones where your mind wandered until you’d thought yourself in circles, overanalyzing every last decision you had ever made.
The ones where you allowed your guard just down enough that the slightest oddity threw you off-balance—something or someone out of place. 
It was during the quiet nights like that night where you should have expected the unexpected, because New York City never stayed still for long. 
The evening’s sluggishness was normal; tourism always slowed in the springtime. The newest shows on Broadway were already months old, not to mention the warmer weather brought both an uptick in crime and pollen count. If out-of-towners were going to schlep to the East Coast, they’d prefer to see the cherry blossoms hours south in Washington, DC than to get mugged on the 1 train. 
Business picked up in the winter months when people flocked from around the world to witness the Thanksgiving Day Parade, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, or Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, even though they were several bus and subway transfers away. Outsiders to the tri-state area struggled to differentiate between boroughs; it was unfortunate for them, but you counted on it to keep business alive. 
The only guests who consistently frequented your family’s motel were junkies looking for a place to shoot up away from the NYPD’s watchful gaze or affair-havers who were considerate enough not to sully their marriage beds—just their vows. You were in no position to judge; their money was what kept the lights on, but it was impossible not to compare your clientele to the suits who stayed at the Marriott down the street. They wouldn‘t even allow homeless folks to sit within twenty-five feet of the building, let alone stay under their roof.
You leaned on the desk, wood grain pinching your elbows. You tapped your pencil against your textbook as you read, its margins cluttered with notes about different types of parent-child attachment styles. 
Sleep prickled at the corners of your eyes, blurring the words on the page in front of you. Focus. 
Secure attachment occurs when—no, you’d already read this line. Twice. 
“Dammit,” you muttered under your breath, gently slapping your cheeks in a futile attempt to stay awake. Taking a full course load instead of your usual part-time was your academic advisor’s ill-conceived idea, bolstered by the prospect of an earlier graduation. In your haste, you’d neglected to consider two important factors: all of your studying now had to be done during your night shifts, and graduating meant telling your parents a truth they were unready to hear. 
They were so proud of the motel, regardless of its reputation. It might as well have been The Plaza from the way your dad boasted about it. The three of you shared an unspoken understanding that you worked the front desk because paying an actual employee would put them under. Maybe if finances weren’t so tight, you could have freely admitted that your future plans didn’t involve taking over the business. 
Your eyelids fluttered shut as your head rested on your book, a small puddle of drool pooling atop Bowlby’s theories. 
Ping ping ping ping!
Time slowly stretched out before you, your conscious brain clawing its way out of its hazy fog. It took a beat for you to recognize that the incessant noise came from someone repeatedly smacking the tiny bell that sat on the desk. 
“Hey, hello?” an impatient voice called out, jolting you from your impromptu nap. You blinked away the residual sleepiness and took in the sight in front of you: a curly-haired man, likely not much older than you were, a cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter tucked between his lips. He had a patched guitar case strapped to his back and clutched a black garbage bag filled with what you hoped was clothing.
“Sorry,” you grumbled, wiping the moisture from your chin. “Need a room?” 
“Mhm.” You could practically hear his eye roll: no, I just stopped by in the middle of the night for a quick chat. Fancy a cup of tea and a scone? 
He plopped the garbage bag on the ground; its soft landing and the way it wrinkled told you that whatever was inside was, thankfully, not a body.
You nodded and turned around to the wall of keys behind you. There was no shortage of rooms; the only occupied one was being rented by Phyllis, a sixty-year-old self-described ‘entertainer of gentleman’ who paid double her bill in exchange for your silence. 
He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the countertop, grinding it into the base for good measure. “How much per night?” he asked, digging into his pants pocket and pulling out a wallet held together with duct tape. 
“Fifteen.”
The man breathed out, his bangs fanning over his forehead. “Jesus.” He fished two twenties and a five from the billfold and placed them in front of you. “This should cover me until Friday, yeah?”
Nodding, you folded the bills and tucked them into the register kept under the desk, only accessible by key because of a series of break-ins during the late ‘70s.
The man lit another cigarette as you pulled out the ledger and a pen. “Name and date here,” you said, pointing to the ‘check in’ column. He took a drag before scrawling his name on the line: Eddie Munson, 5-4-93. 
“All right, you’ll be in…” you scanned the assortment of keys dangling from their hooks. The walls were thin, and this guy seemed decent enough, so you decided to spare him the theatrical sound effects of Phyllis’s room 10 endeavors. “…room 4. Make a right down the hallway, and it’ll be the second door. Can’t miss it if you try.” 
Your attempt at humor fell flat, both of you too exhausted to laugh. You strode past it, clearing your throat as if dispelling the tension. When you placed the key in his calloused palm, you couldn’t help but notice that the base of each fingertip is a half-shade paler than the rest of his skin. 
“Thanks.” Eddie mumbled. He tapped the cigarette above the ashtray, the gray flakes falling into a neat pile. His right bicep flexed underneath his denim jacket as he heaved the garbage bag over his shoulder, careful not to bang it against the guitar. 
He scuttled out of the tiny room masquerading as a lobby, shoulders hunched from the weight of the bag and of the burdens he inevitably carried. No one shows up to a motel in the middle of the night without a story or two. 
After years of greeting guests at the front desk, you liked to think you had a decent read on them. Eddie was quiet, maybe even introspective, but not necessarily shy. He was tired; no, more than that: he was worn down, like so many other people who had come through these doors. 
Most importantly, Eddie didn’t seem like he'd be much trouble. He didn’t stumble in wasted and reeking of booze or fidgeting as he awaited a fix. He wasn’t shouting or poorly concealing a wandering eye or making lewd comments. He’d made pretty much no impression at all besides being a bit gruff, which was just fine with you. Your personality wasn't composed of rainbows and sunshine at this hour either.
You looked at the clock and sighed when it only read 2:17. It’s already tomorrow, you thought grimly. Just under four hours until you could walk ten feet to your room, curl up in your bed, and sleep until it was time for your afternoon class. After years of balancing school and work, you were in the last two weeks of your final semester, and then…what? You casually inform your parents that you were leaving the family business–essentially forcing them to close it–to pursue a career in social work? 
That was sure to go over well.  
To their knowledge, you were studying hotel management and hospitality in order to “improve the business.” That was why they’d relented when you’d asked to start taking classes, switching you over to the night shift to avoid having to hire a new employee.
What they didn’t know is that your school didn’t even offer that as a major. Nor were they aware of the acceptance letter into NYU’s Masters of Social Work program that was stashed inside your dresser drawer, hidden from sight. That was a conversation for another day when you found the strength to face their disappointment.
Tumblr media
Chaos waited to strike until the end of your shift. 
Just as you packed your book back into your bag, a familiar, skunky odor wafted past your nostrils. 
Ignore it, you thought. Let it be Dad’s problem when he takes over in five minutes. But if you could smell it, so could any of the cops patrolling the boulevard. One more citation and the motel was in jeopardy of being permanently shut down, and you couldn’t take that risk.
With a frustrated sigh, you yanked open the desk drawer and reached in for a pen, instead pulling out an unopened box of crayons. A twenty-four pack of Crayola—the good kind. You plucked a waxy cornflower blue from its spot and scribbled Be back soon on a Post-It note, sticking it on the front of the desk. Grabbing the pepper spray canister from its spot next to the register, just in case, you started down the hall. Marijuana wasn’t Phyllis’s drug of choice, though it might have been one of her various gentleman suitors’, but the scent was too strong to be coming all the way from room 10.
Maybe this Eddie Munson was trouble, afterall.
You knocked on his door, firmly but without aggression. It certainly wasn’t the first time you interrupted someone’s buzz, and it wouldn’t be the last. You knew better than to go in guns a-blazing; it’s easier to catch flies with sugar than vinegar. 
Eddie opened it after a moment, cracking it halfway and revealing a lit joint pinched between his plush lips. One forearm was perched on the doorframe, showing off faded ink of a litter of flying bats and a dragon-esque creature. He was clad in only navy blue boxer briefs, but his lack of attire was no surprise. Many guests were shameless, not bothering to cover the holes in their Fruit of the Loom tighty-whities and showcasing faded yellow stains on the crotch. What confused you was the elastic waistband proudly proclaiming ‘Calvin Klein’ that cut off the soft hair trailing from his belly button. It seemed absurd that he would have been lugging around any designer clothes in that trash bag, but there was no other possibility. 
“Can I help you?” he asked, shaking his curly bangs out of his face. Half-lidded brown eyes scanned your form, trying to determine whether you were a narc or trying to bum some bud off of him. His window was cracked open enough to let in fresh air, which also meant that the acrid smell could easily be let out.
“You can’t smoke that here,” you reported matter-of-factly, just as you had a million times before. When he cocked a challenging brow, you continued. “Cigarettes are fine, but no weed. The police will come after us and you.”
He looked around the room, unbothered, and absentmindedly scratched at his bare chest. A demon’s head was sketched just above a sparse patch of hair. Under different circumstances, or maybe in another life altogether, you would’ve asked him about his tattoos; if they had some philosophical meaning or were the products of spur-of-the-moment decisions. You could have blathered on about the ideas you had for your own future tattoos, if you ever worked up the nerve to actually get one. 
“You mean to tell me that with all of the skeevy shit that goes on around here, the cops are gonna waste their time on a little pot?” He scoffed and took another defiant pull, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling away from you.
I guess chivalry isn’t dead, you mused, stifling an eye roll. “No, but they’re always looking for an excuse to ‘investigate,’’' you threw air-quotes around the last word, “so they can bust us for more serious things, and that is the perfect one.” You gestured to the joint only to be met with an eye roll. “Look, you can either put it out, smoke it somewhere else, or you can leave. Full refund, but you can’t stay here.”
His stare locked onto your steely eyes and clenched jaw, only breaking when you’d straightened your posture to stand your ground. “Whatever,” he huffed, but he snuffed it out. A glimmer of a smile danced on his lips, disappearing nearly as quickly as it arrived. Despite its fleeting nature, it managed to thaw you enough so that your arms weren’t held quite so tight to your body, your expression less rigid. “Just trying to relax and get some sleep, like you were while you were supposed to be ‘working.’” It’s his turn to supply the air-quotes, both in mockery and as a gotcha. A teasing lilt elevated his voice, smoothing out the edge he’d greeted you with earlier. 
“I wasn’t sleeping, just…resting my eyes,” you volleyed back, your smirk betraying any semblance of the tough façade you’d worn. 
Eddie crossed his arms and walked over to the garbage bag of clothes. He rummaged through it for a moment before procuring a pair of gray sweatpants, stepping into them hurriedly as though he just remembered his minimal attire. 
“Maybe if you chose more interesting reading material, you wouldn’t be sl—resting your eyes on the job,” he amended, gesturing to the textbook in your canvas tote bag. “Ever heard of Stephen King?”
“I live in a motel, not under a rock.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You live here?”
Shit. That wasn’t information you regularly divulged. Sure, this guy seemed harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Prime example: wearing designer underwear while using a trash bag in lieu of a suitcase. 
It was too late to double back, so you nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. The sole of your sneaker dug into the old carpet. 
Eddie looked like he wanted to say more, lips parted and eyes wide like there was a follow-up question sitting on the tip of his tongue. Before he could ask it, your gaze landed on the clock radio: six AM on the dot. 
“I need to go,” you said hurriedly. Shame at your sudden shyness burned a hole in your belly. Eddie Munson was a guest; for all intents and purposes, he was a total stranger. There was no reason to be intimidated by him. “Good luck falling asleep,” you added with a weak smile. 
The easy banter that had been building between you dissipated in an instant, taking his good mood with it. His goodbye was a sardonic salute, the mattress springs creaking wearily as soon as you closed the door behind you. 
Sure enough, your dad was in the tiny lobby, assessing some peeling wallpaper. “Gotta fix that,” he mumbled to himself, thumbnail picking at it aimlessly. He turned around when he heard the door open and smiled when he saw you. 
“Sorry, I was helping out a guest,” you rushed to explain, hoping he wasn't too anxious to find the desk left unattended. 
The wrinkles in your dad’s forehead became more pronounced. “Is everything alright?” The phrase ‘helping out a guest’ could range from unclogging a toilet to calling the police for a domestic dispute. 
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reassured him quickly, flashing an exaggerated thumbs-up. “No law enforcement necessary. Didn’t even need to use the pepper spray.” You waved the canister in your palm before placing it back. 
He beamed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your scalp. “It’s times like this where I just know I’ll be leaving this place in good hands.” 
You swallowed the bile that crept up your throat and feigned a smile when  he pulled you in for a tight hug. The mingled scents of Irish Spring soap and drugstore aftershave tickled your nose, and tears stung along your lash line. 
If only you knew, you thought, giving him one last squeeze before you headed to your room. Disappointed wouldn’t even begin to cover it. 
Your parents would never say the word aloud; they’d look at each other and heave identical weighted sighs. Their lifelong goal of a long-standing family business would vanish in the blink of an eye. Dad would pretend there was a chance that they could afford a new hire, even going so far as to fumble through the years of financial statements before inevitably throwing in the towel; Mom would force a pained smile and hoarsely encourage you to follow your dreams, even at the expense of theirs.
You shook the thought away as you trudged towards your room, sneakered feet like sandbags below you.  Dwelling on this scenario had you teetering on the brink of insanity, so you’d willed yourself to focus on something else. Anything else.
Like the motel’s newest guest and his smile. The way it softened the hard lines on his face, offering you a glimpse of how he wore happiness. Something about it made you want to see him happy again. 
You can’t even figure out how to make yourself happy, you thought, peeling back the starchy sheets and finally crawling into bed, much less a stranger. For all you knew, he was just relaxed because his high was starting to kick in, and not from some warming presence you’d supplied. 
The sun cracked pink through the sky, visible through the paper-thin curtains hanging on the window. You had become accustomed to this backwards routine, able to fall asleep while daylight broke. It took a few extra moments this time; you were anticipating marijuana-tinged fumes to float through the vents when Eddie ignored your instructions. 
It was that flicker of a smile that had you almost certain he would spark up once you’d left. The smile of someone who so naturally flouted authority that he no longer bragged about it. Yet time ticked by without a hint of evidence that he was smoking again. 
Which begged the question: if the smile didn’t signify defiance, what did it mean?
Eddie Munson is definitely trouble, you surmised just before you drifted off, but nothing you can’t handle.
--
taglist:
@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @chrissymjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @bewitchedmunson @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin
657 notes · View notes
mischievousstuff · 5 months
Text
Lose you twice
Loki x reader
Chapter 5: The Variant
Story summary: After losing the love of your life to the mad titan, it seemed like there was no hope for the future. That is, until a rather interesting idea flashes your mind. In this game of love and war, will you be able to bring the love of your life back, or will you lose him twice, because this time? Thanos won't be the problem.
Chapter summary: After taking Mobius’ rather weird request, Loki and you are off on a mission. A mission that includes a lot of paperwork… And something else.
Warnings: None!
Word count: Around 3400
A/N: Hey guys so here’s the new chapter!! Now I know that this is a rather long one, actually the longest chapter I’ve written so far so you better sit back for it lol - I hope you like the story so far! P.S. I know that there isn’t much action between Loki and the reader right now but give them time, especially Loki, he’s still growing used to all of this. (what can i say i’m a sucker for slowburns lol) let me know what you think of this chapter <3
•Masterlist•
Tumblr media
(pic not mine)
“Okay, y'all, let's review what we've learned.”Miss Minutes could be heard as she stood on the table Loki and you were currently sat at.
“What happens when a nexus event branches past red line?” She asks, making Loki huff out in annoyance as he rolled his eyes.
“Very bad things.” He said, sarcasm dripping off of his tongue as you snort, looking at him. Miss Minutes, however, didn’t find this amusing at all.
“Come on, Loki. What is it?” She urges, looking at him.
“It's when the TVA can no longer reset a nexus event.” You replied instead, making Loki glance at you as he huffed out again. On the other hand, Miss Minutes turns to you with a triumphant smile.
“Right! And that would lead to the destruction of the timeline and the collapse of reality as we know it.” She exclaimed as Loki spoke up.
“Okay? Boring.” He mused as you only shot him a glare, before turning your attention back to Miss Minutes. You were still trying to get used to all of this. To him. It was weird, having him here, only barely even being acquaintances, let alone lovers. But, alas, you kept forgetting that this wasn’t your Loki. Your heart tugged in pain at the thought, so you quickly buried it somewhere in the back of your brain before someone snapped you back into reality.
“Training going well?” Mobius appeared suddenly, leaning against some bookshelves as he greeted Loki and you. Miss Minutes disappeared shortly after.
“Yeah.” You responded, a friendly smile directed towards him. He only nodded before glancing at Loki.
“Gear up, there’s been an attack. Let’s go.” He motioned to the both of you before turning around to leave, not checking if you were following him.
As you followed Mobius, you found yourselves in a room filled with TVA guards and Minutemen. You joined them, eyeing them sceptically, as did Loki. Mobius then spoke up, addressing everyone.
“C-20 and her team went dark shortly after they jumped into the 1985 branch. All signs point to another ambush. We've grabbed enough temporal aura to know it's our Loki Variant.” He exclaimed as you only glanced at Loki at the mention of his Variant. His only response was a scoff and a shake of his head.
“But which kind of Loki, remains unknown.” Mobius stated which made Loki immediately speak up.
“They’re the lesser kind, to be clear.” Loki winked as everyone in the room only rolled their eyes, already fed up with his arrogance.
“Here’s the deal,” Mobius said, completely ignoring Loki’s comment as he continued on with the plan. “We're gonna break into two teams, including myself, Loki and Y/N.” Mobius said as Loki and you shared a glance at each other upon the mention of your names, making your heart speed up its pace as you only nodded in understanding.
“Let me ask you this, why don't we just travel back to before the attack, when the Variant first arrives?” Loki mused, looking at Mobius.
“Nexus events destabilize the time flow. This branch, I assume, is still changing and growing, so we have to show up in real time. Did you watch any of the training videos we were supposed to?” You huff out as Loki only glared you.
“Well, as many as I could stand.” He shrugged with a sly smirk on his face that you wished to slap off right now. You forgot how big of an ass this Loki was.
Hunter B-15 interrupted your bantering, opening up a portal as she spoke up, her tone serious.
“Fan out and search for C-20, and hurry up. we’re at three units until red line.” She exclaimed as Minutemen and the rest of the guards followed her.
Loki and you followed Mobius, entering a tent. Loki looked around, a suspicious look on his face as he examined the place with caution.
“Come on.” Mobius urged, heading towards the exit of the tent.
“Wait.” Loki said, making both Mobius and you turn around to look at him.
“If you leave this tent, you’ll end up like them.” He stated as Mobius looked over at you, confusion written all over his face. Suddenly, B-15 peeked inside the tent, looking at the three of you.
“Mobius? Let’s go, we need to look for C-20.” She said, as a matter of fact. Before either Mobius or you could reply, Loki spoke up.
“That's exactly what the Variant wants you to do. It's a trap. They’re waiting for you outside this tent.”
“He’s only stalling time, one unit left, there’s no one out here!” Someone from outside yelled.
Well, that went horrible. Now you were back at the TVA, Loki, Mobius and you in the elevator.
“That was your first lesson in catching a Loki. Expect the expected. “ Loki spoke up, a proud smirk on his face as you rolled your eyes, not in the mood for this.
“Half the fun of being a trickster is knowing everyone knows you're a trickster, and then, many of your tricks can come from exploiting the fact that you know that they know-“ Loki mused sarcastically before Mobius cut him off.
“Okay- shut up! Please, what happened to the guy I met two days ago? Who didn't like to talk? Remember him? Now I'm stuck with this guy who won't stop yacking away about what makes a Loki tick!” Mobius breathed in frustration.
“What? Isn't that precisely why I'm here?” Loki asked, not really interested in the answer but nevertheless he still wanted to push Mobius’ buttons.
“And I still have absolutely no idea why you need me here.” You exhaled, throwing your hands in the air as both Loki and Mobius look at you.
“Because, believe it or not, in the long-life of every Loki that is filled with betrayal and scheming, you’re the only person that they trust. And care about, for that matter. Almost every Loki variant has had a Y/N variant. It’s as if you two were meant to be or something.” Mobius mumbled, and at this your heart dropped to your feet. Loki’s smirk was long gone from his face as his whole demeanour changed, his gaze trained on you. You kept your eyes on the floor, too afraid to look up at him and his eyes. Those eyes.
After standing there in an awkward silence, you finally stepped out of the elevator as you followed Mobius. He led you to a huge room that seemed to be some kind of an archive.
“What’s this?” You asked, looking around the room.
“Your last chance.” Mobius said as he led you trough the room.
“Oh, and what does our desperate last chance require?” Loki scoffed, his tone now growing a bit irritated.
“Work.” Mobius replied.
“Work?” You repeated, now confused. What did he mean “work”?
“I need you two to go over each and every one of the Variant's case files, and then, give me your unique Loki perspective.” As Mobius finished his sentence, he came to a stop in front of an empty table that you only guessed Loki and you will be using.
“Let me park ya at this desk. And don't be afraid to really lean into this work. Here's a good trick for you. Pretend your life depends on it.“ He joked, shooting you a wink as he clasped his hands. “I’m gonna get a snack.” And then, he left, leaving Loki and you all alone.
Loki only groaned as he cleared his throat before looking at you, a mischievous smirk on his face. A smirk that made your knees go weak and your legs give out. A smirk that you haven’t seen in so long and missed, yet it was the thing that was also breaking your heart at the same time.
“Shall we, my lady?”
You don’t know for how long you two have been sitting at the desk, rummaging trough each and every file, and the outcome was the same every time. Unsuccessful. You were currently reading trough the file of Ragnarok, an event you were familiar with all too well. You were there. With Loki. Okay, no, you have to focus. Of course, even at the slightest attempt of you trying to focus on finishing this task already, your mind raced right back to the man in front of you, you shook your head, trying to shift your attention to the paperwork in front of you. After some time, you started to connect the dots before looking up at him.
“Loki-“ It felt weird. Calling him, addressing him, talking to him. After five years. It was weird, but in a good way. As you glanced up from your papers to look at him, the words died out in your throat.
It seemed that he had fallen asleep, exhausted from both trying to hunt down this horrid variant of his and scanning the files. He was leaned against the desk, his head resting against his folded arms as his back heaved up and down with each slow breath he took. You sighed, resting your chin in your hand as you looked at him. You missed this. Spending time with him. You let yourself live in the lie, just for a bit, pretending that everything was alright, that this was your Loki and that you two were rummaging trough some S.H.I.E.L.D’s files instead of TVA’s, that you were sitting at the desk somewhere deep in the Avengers’ Compound. You felt a pang of pain in your heart as you kept looking at him. A strand of his hair managed to break free, falling over his forehead and covering his eyes. You reached forward, tucking the raven lock slowly behind his ear, careful not to wake him. Your hand lingered there as it slowly grazed his cheek. His skin on yours set flames all over your body. Even after all this time, this man, God of Mischief in front of you could still make you feel all of these emotions, all of these things while asleep. While he doesn’t even remember you. While he wasn’t even yours.
You sighed, head resting in your hands as you smiled sadly at his sleeping form.
“I miss you.” You whispered, voice shaky.
“Please know that even if things may not make sense right now and even though you may feel like you’re alone in this, you’ll always have someone who cares for you. I love you, so much. Even if you’re being a real pain in the ass right now. Maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t meet you back in 2012, hm?” You chuckled to yourself as you looked at him. Tears stung your eyes. There were so many things you wanted to say, to do. But you knew you couldn’t.
Were you asking for too much? All you wanted was to have the love of your life come back to you. Nothing else. But, if it meant that being with Loki would cost you this, that the prize would be him not knowing you, then you’d take it. Only if it meant that you’d still be with him. You’ll take anything at this point, that’s how you desperate you were. That’s how desperately in love you were with him.
Suddenly, Loki’s body shifted as he hummed, his eyes opening, heavy with sleep as he straightened up in his seat, stretching and yawning. You immediately straightened back in your own seat as you grabbed the files, pretending to be reading trough it, as if you were not swooning over the man in front of you just moments ago. Loki turned to look at you, rubbing his eyes as he tried to get rid of the sleep that was still calling him.
“Did you manage to find anything?” He asked, voice raspy and laced with tiredness as he looked at you, trying to suppress another yawn. You shifted your gaze from the file as you placed it back on the table, your full attention now directed towards him.
“Actually- I did.” You said sternly, trying to explain him this in the easiest way possible.
“The answer isn't in the files, it's on the timeline. The Variant is hiding in apocalypses.” You explained as Loki looked at you intently.
“Which apocalypse?” He asked.
“Any time in history? There's, like, a million of them. Like, for example… Ragnarok. Are you familiar?” You asked him, your heart tugging. It was weird to ask him these questions when he was quite literally there with you.
“Yes. The destruction of Asgard and most of its people.” Loki stated, obvious.
“I was there with you, you know? During Ragnarok. Well- The other version of you- But anyways,” You brushed it off as Loki kept looking at you, something flashing in his eyes.
“It could be any apocalypse. It could be a tidal wave. It could be a meteor. It could be a volcano, a supernova. If everything and everyone around you is destined for imminent destruction, then nothing that you say or do will matter, because the timeline's not gonna branch. Because it gets destroyed. So, the Variant could be hiding in the apocalypse and do whatever they want, and we wouldn't know!“ You explain enthusiastically, a bit breathless.
“Not bad.” Loki smirked, leaning back against the chair as you chuckled at him.
“Yes, well, perhaps if you’d watched those videos that we had to watch, you’d know something.” You hummed, leaning back against the chair as well, only making Loki’s smirk grow bigger.
After coming to Mobius with your theories, you concluded that you would be going to a timeline set in Haven Hills, Alabama, 2050. before the town gets wiped out by a hurricane.
As you step out from the portal, you’re met with terrible weather. Rain, wind, thundering, you name it. The three of you as well as B-15 start walking towards a warehouse.
“This warehouse is being used by civilians as a shelter trying to ride out the storm. Remember, this is a class ten apocalypse.” B-15 speaks up, leading the three of you trough the rain.
“While the Variant shouldn't know we're coming, they could be hiding anywhere and should be considered hostile. So stay alert.” Mobius said as you nodded in agreement. Suddenly, a thunder could be heard and great flashing could be seen which made Loki look up at the cloudy sky, hair slicked back and wet from the rain. You glanced at him, a sad smile on your face.
“You’re thinking of him, aren’t you?” You asked, referring to Thor. Loki’s head immediately whips to look at you, a surprised look on his face. You only smiled in return.
“I do it too. Wouldn’t be surprised if he swung by suddenly.” You shrugged, obviously joking, nudging Loki with your shoulder as he chuckled in return.
When you finally walked in the warehouse, you scanned the place. Drenching wet, the raindrops ran down your neck, settling deep inside your shirt as an unpleasant shiver ran up your back. Loki noticed this, and suddenly both of you were enveloped in green magic. Loki.
“The hell was that?” B-15 croaked out, a puzzled expression on her face.
“That was me using magic to dry our clothes. So we don't announce ourselves with every squeaky footstep like the rest of you.” He exclaimed, sarcasm evident in his voice. You chuckled, fixing your TVA jacket as you glanced at him.
“Thank you.” You smiled.
“Whatever for, darling?” He mused, flashing you a teethy smile. The things this man did to you.
“Okay, if you two lovebirds are done, I would like to find this variant, yes?” Mobius suddenly interrupted, making your cheeks flush a deep red as you cleared your throat, your back straightening and you nodded, unaware of Loki’s gaze on you.
As you split into teams, Loki, B-15 and you were currently walking trough the warehouse, caution for any slight movement as suddenly a man walked past you, B-15 immediately stopping him.
“Woah, hey! What are you doing?” She asked, eyeing him sceptically as the strange man looked at all there of you, uninterested.
“Shopping for plants.” He shrugged, averting his gaze back to the items.
“In this storm?” You asked, sceptical. The man then looked at you and there was a glint in his eyes. You saw it.
“Could that be you?” B-15 whispered to Loki as he eyed the man in front of you.
“I mean, I probably would have worn a suit, but, yes, maybe.” Loki whispered, nodding as B-15 huffed in defeat.
Suddenly, the man in front of you collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Loki nudged him with his foot as he tiled his head at the scene.
“Is he dead?” He asked as you looked around the room, alerted.
“No. They usually survive.” B-15 replied, turning around as she eyed Loki, eyes narrowed at him. Something was off. Loki only smirked, tilting his head as he put his hands in the pockets of his jacket, clicking his tongue.
“Me, I presume.” Loki rasped, his jaw clenching. You glanced between the two of them as you came to stand behind Loki. So, the other variant was now… Inside B-15? You eyed Hunter- Now the Loki Variant as you observed the interaction between the… Same person, apparently.
“So, you're the fool the TVA brought in to hunt me down. And please- If anyone’s anyone, you’re me.” the Variant seethed at Loki.
“Are you going to call your little friends for help?” the Variant spoke up again, flashing a fake smiled towards Loki as they put themself into a fighting stance.
“Show yourself.” You stated, holding your chin up high. Now, the Variant glanced at you, eyes narrowing as they took a step toward you, Loki quickly coming to stand in between their way, protecting you and at this small gesture you felt warmth spreading troughout your chest.
“Ah, yes-“ The Variant spoke up, still looking at you. “You. You’re the smart one. I presume you’re the brains of this operation, yes?” The variant smirked.
“I see.” Loki quipped, looking at B-15. “So this is your plan. Lure us all here so you can blow the place up. “
The Variant only chuckled. “Thank you for helping me stall for time.” They said before plunging towards Loki, throwing a punch. Loki dodged it, catching their hand as he pinned it behind their back, panting.
“I would never treat me like this.” Loki breathed, making the Variant growl and stomp Loki’s foot as they kicked him in the stomach, breaking free from Loki’s grasp as he only grunted in response.
Then, you jumped into action, pushing the Variant as you threw some punches before pinning them against the wall, breathless. Perks of being an Avenger.
“Hi.” You mused sarcastically as the Variant hissed in defeat.
“Come on, now.” You whispered, your grip on them tightening. “Stop hiding.” You say, teeth gritted, you were in no mood for playing games. You were so close to ending all of this.
Suddenly, B-15 goes limp in your arms as she, too, loses consciousness. You turn around to look at Loki over your shoulder as he sighs in loss. Suddenly, green fog emerges from a dark corner which makes both Loki and you turn around to look at it. You came to stand next to Loki as he grabbed your hand. Your head snapped to look up at him, but his gaze was trained on the green fog still, so you looked away, squeezing his hand tight in reassurance.
And then, someone steps out from the dark, enveloped by the green magic. You couldn’t really see them well. What first came into view was the suit. Green and golden. Now this was definitely a Loki, that you were sure of. As the fog subsided, a pair of golden horned helmet also came into view. Your eyes widened, jaw going slack in shock as you finally had a good look on the variant.
“Call me Sylvie.”
taglist: @slytherinroyalty16 @7minutes-tomidnight @ozymdias
163 notes · View notes
incorrectlokiserie · 6 months
Text
sylvie: I hate you.
loki, to himself: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst with happy ending, 300k+ words
130 notes · View notes
eexhausted · 5 months
Text
hi sorry im talking again
my mistake gang
BUT
even as somebody who genuinely doesn’t like the romance between thor and jane, at any point - it’s not that bad i just never liked their dynamic that much, more of a thorbruce person myself but i don’t see any issues necessarily with shipping it (?)
THE FACT THAT LOKIUS ARE CANONICALLY. TRULY REALLY IN FRONT OF MY EYES. BEING PARALLELED WITH THORJANE IS DRIGING ME CRAZY
loki did something silly, got punished and sent to an unfamiliar place where he met somebody mortal (or at least appearing so) and immediately fell in love with him , and then thought “oh shit im literally doing a thor rn”
like thor and jane are EXPLICITLY ROMANTIC until the off screen breakup in ragnarok and then again in tlat (even if i don’t like that movie all too much, it’s still just the truth.) not even really any slowburn, and even if i believe their relationship was symbolism anyway, ITS ROMANTIC. so….,,,
if they were reallyyyy trying to imply sylki canon they would’ve twisted it to be sylki - thorjane but it’s NOT like that at alllll.
62 notes · View notes
zhoras-bitch · 8 months
Text
I really miss Path of the Valkyrie and Alexandra's writing in general. It sucks so hard that she won't be able to continue her work at RC. I think her writing was getting better and better over time, and while Path of the Valkyrie has some highs and lows, I was fully expecting her next project to be a total banger.
The LIs are probably my favourite aspect of her writing -- in that regard it reminds me a little of Theodora. Just the range of archetypes is impressive, and somehow they are all handed so well. Sagr's romance is a beautiful angsty slowburn which reveals the tender, caring, but deeply wounded man behind a rough exterior. Ullr's path is comforting, like coming back home. Andvari is the soft-spoken pocket-sized bf who is going to treat you like a princess and you can carry him in your arms. Thor is like a force of nature, wild and a little terrifying, and he has an absolutely fascinating set of morals that makes him actually feel kind of non-human. And Loki's path is just something else. You think you have this chaotic trickster all figured out, and the next episode he flips everything on its head.
And I also just want to shout out the female LIs in particular. Nowadays, RC is moving in a better direction in terms of making stories with more diverse casts (books like Heart of Trespia, Hell and High Water, The One, Vying for Versallies, Elite Tag in particular come to mind). But back when Path of the Valkyrie first came out, it was unfortunately the norm across RC stories to treat wlw paths as an after-though (there were occasional wins for the wlws, but it was kind of barren overall). And in contrast Liod and Vanadis paths felt like such a breath of fresh air. I mean Liod is still one of the few masc female LIs on the app. And Vanadis has such a compelling character arc about finding her voice and standing up to those who wronged her after a lifetime of objectification and neglect. They both have their roles in the bigger story and their romances feel just as genuine and authentic as the men's, rather than a side hookup.
I hope they can find a writer who will love those characters as much as Alexandra clearly did, so Path of the Valkyrie can get the ending it deserves. But even then, it's still going to be bittersweet.
88 notes · View notes
mischief2sarawr · 1 year
Text
Reading List February 2023 📖
Welcome back, spring flowers! 🌷
Okay, yeah, I might be slightly late again for my February list. But let's be honest, that was to be expected by now. :D
(I fully blame @isawthisangel this time, she made me want to read MTB again and I absolutely HAD TO binge it before doing anything else.❤️)
It's a pretty long one this time again, so take your time and dig in to find something new to read and love for you! As always, if I made any mistakes, please tell me :)
🫶
Tumblr media
Hope you'll find something new to enjoy, please remember to reblog those storys to support our writers! You can find my writer recommendations here.
Let’s get started ✨
Series | Collections | Multiple Parts
Meant to be (completed) | @isawthisangel
So because this lovely mutual just posted a new oneshot, my heart started aching for my all-time favorite fic and I had to read it again, for the 8th time by now (and that's saying something with 92 chapters). This will always be close to my heart and I can't recommend it enough ❤️
Hostile F*cks Collection (ongoing) | @lokisgoodgirl
I'm still completely convinced that this gorgeous woman is just trying to end my life. Every new part of this collection turns me into a way too horny puddle and I don't know how much longer I can go on like this.
Beauty and the Snake Prince (ongoing) | @ijuststareatstuffhereok89
As the Concubine of Prince Loki we already managed to sneak our way into his heart. What might actually put our life even more in danger are the newest revelations we just received..
Fire Eyes (ongoing) | @unlucky-number-13
I still can't put into words how happy I am that this story is continuing. When Loki is in danger of being exposed at the TVA, we finally get what we all were waiting for! ❤️
Big Misunderstandings (Sequel to Small Talks & Little Joys) | @lovelysizzlingbluebird
What we've been building with Loki is being threatened to break apart after a few misunderstandings and conversations about the actions of his past... super angsty & heartbreaking, I really need more so my heart can repair itself again T_T
Thrown (ongoing) | @maple-seed
Those two adorable lovebirds are still oblivious to each others feelings but have trouble to contain their own any longer - we get incredible cuteness, a touch of angst as always and just the most beautiful slowburn thats slowly but surely heating up!
Dirty Business (ongoing) | @coldnique
Thor being a giant cockblocker because he couldn't keep it in his pants 500 years ago - do I have to say more to describe how much I love this already? :D
Around the Realms in 80 Days (ongoing) | @mistress-ofmagic
It is time, lovelies! Latte and the gang are finally on their way to the fire realm with Latte and Loki equally worried what might happen to her there!
All the kings men (ongoing) | @geminigirl0298
After Lorelai stirred up some trouble, feelings are finally talked about more openly while Sharon is being an awesome bossbitch and shit is slowly going down.
Relinquish the Crown (ongoing) | @muddyorbsblr
We get a short little treat of this captivating story while our talented author keeps on building the whole story which we will get to enjoy soon and for a long time!
The Unlucky One (ongoing) | @littlemsstarlight8
We get a ton of heartbreak when Loki confronts us right after we agreed publicly to the engagement to Thor. Our poor boy doesn't understand how it came to this and we can't tell him the truth..
Letters (ongoing) | @those-late-night-feels
Writing everything down should help you process your feelings. Somehow it always turns into letters to him. We have a new super angsty and sad story on our hands, grab your tissues people. 🥹
The Alliance in the Shadows (completed) | @littlespaceyelf
After trying for weeks to gain the attention of Thor, we are caught trying to help out situation with a potion by none other than Loki. Surprisingly, instead of turning us in, he makes us a deal that will turn everything upside down.
Missed Chances and broken Promises (ongoing) | @springdandelixn
Choices have been made and the consequences must be endured - our past relationship with Loki is still weighing heavy on his and our heart, but we will have to confront each other again soon. Prepare for pure angst!
Therapy fit for a God (ongoing) | @villainousshakespeare
FINALLY an amazing story where Loki gets what he desperatly needs - someone who listens to and understands him. A therapist. That Caroline will also start falling for the troubled god is really not that surprising right? :D
High Moon (ongoing) | @chantsdemarins
We got a special edition chapter for valentine's day! My lovely friend here manages to stir up so many emotions inside of me every time I read something new of their stories, just like with this one: "Where does heartbreak get stored if not in your quantum drive?"
Frost Flower (ongoing) | @theaudacitytowrite
Here we get to accompany Loki on a diplomatic visit to Jotunheim! While Loki is not exactly thrilled about it, we are learning more about his heritage he'd rather keep to himself.
Sinner's damnation | @lostgreekgod & @theaudacitytowrite
Being fed up with his treatment at the Avengers Tower, Loki runs away - and runs into us, running away from our kidnapper. While our God does expect us to also be afraid of him, we are in fact feeling more than secure with him ❤️
Appropriate (ongoing) | @lokiprompts
Loki is banished to Midgard and has to live there now - what else could a troubled god need but a social worker to help him with his new life? Fluff aleeeeert!
ONESHOTS | DRABBLES
@lokisgoodgirl
This was my undoing. All hail the balustrade.
Hail, Commander
The Feast
@wheredafandomat
Not what it looks like
Cum fly with me
The Chambermaid
I need you tonight
Queen of the nine
@unlucky-number-13
The God of Vengeance
& the amazing Sequel The Road to Helheim
@cheekyscamp
Lay all your love on me
@muddyorbsblr
Midnight Cravings
Eyes one me, Darling
Summoned
@isawthisangel
Dreamer's Ball
@fictive-sl0th
Soaked Desire
@mochie85
Choices
The Chase (Sequel to Poker Face)
@ijuststareatstuffhereok89
The Mating Dance
@sarahscribbles
Underneath the Willow Tree
Victory Prize
@tripleyeeet
Patterns
Let's waste time chasing cars
@theaudacitytowrite
Swipe! (Part 3)
@give-me-a-moose
Silly Squabbles
@coldnique
Carrara Marble
@lokiprompts
Burning Words
@asgardwinter
Tiny little Mortals
@thomase1
Asgard, land of... aphrodisiacs?
@lady-rose-moon
How could I forget you?
@villainousshakespeare
Secret Santa (yes I'm late:D)
@youlightmeupfinn
Causal Affair
@simplyholl
Traitor
@springdandelixn
Secret Serenade
I hope you‘ll find something new to add to your own reading list and if you do, please don’t forget to reblog the fics of their amazing writers to support them 💚
Still have no idea why Tumblr doesn’t want to color every tag I want, if you know please tell me:D
160 notes · View notes
lieutenant-teach · 1 month
Text
Read several books about Loki and Sigyn, which were marked with hashtag ‘justice for sigyn’. All of them are written by really talented people (I’m often baffled by situations when fans write better stories than professional writers – why do the latter get their money?). After reading I can’t agree on some specific points in these books that rubbed me wrong.
Contains spoilers!
Cat Rector ‘The Goddess of Nothing at all’ – the story is strong. A well-written book, pleasure to read. But. Even here, on Tumblr, I read lots of meta and criticism ‘Angrboda wasn’t Loki’s mistress! She was his wife before Sigyn!’. And the author goes this standard way ‘Angrboda is Loki’s mistress’. It works for this story, but it’s in lots and lots of books about Norse myths! Why NOT make her a mistress? Why go a typical way? The ending – I loved the ending. A new All-mother Sigyn – chef’s kiss.
Nicki Chapelway ‘The Harbinger of the end’ (1st book) – an interesting take on Volsung saga, the adventures were really engaging. But, frankly, I didn’t understand why Sigyn fell in love with Loki. I mean, they never had any meaningful conversations or actions between two of them to start love. She just decides ‘I’m a wife, I must love him, and also he’s handsome’. That’s it! Next morning she acts as if she’s deeply in love with him. It seemed as if the author wanted to go into slowburn, but didn’t manage to pull it off and just jumped to the moment when they’re already in love.
Lyra Wolf ‘Truth and other lies’ – again, where’s Sigyn as the Goddess of Victory? So much for all these cries in the internet and on Tumblr specifically ‘but she’s not the Goddess of Fidelity! Marvel just made it up!’. Then WHY use this trope? Not saying it’s a bad idea in and on itself, but it’s so established in general public’s mind. Why not change it? Why not at least combine these two elements – fidelity AND victory?
Surprisingly, only Melvin Burgess writes Sigyn as the Goddess of Victory. Burgess! It was the single thing I liked in this book. Of course, he didn’t give justice to her, but at least he named her title right.
Of course, I guess, nothing can beat the Marvel comics – they’re the first to blame for this Fidelity mess and general treatment of Sigyn. Lots of nowadays popular books are based on comics portrayal. I believe fan books should go as far from these typical Logyn tropes as possible.
18 notes · View notes