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emeraldiis · 3 years

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Double Vision

A/N: this is so self indulgent i should be ashamed of myself

AO3 Link

Pairing: Loki x Reader, President Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: You and your boyfriend, 2012 Loki, are trapped at the end of time. But you're not alone. President Loki just got two new toys to play with.

Warnings: threesome, DUBIOUS CONSENT, dom/sub, sub!Loki, bondage, name calling, rough sex, mild knife play

You had been pruned seconds after Loki had in the battle in the TVA’s headquarters. Strangely, it didn’t hurt like you had expected. Just a faint sensation of completely and utter emptiness, and then everything went dark. Just like falling asleep. When you came back to your senses, it was just as gentle. You awoke in a bed of grass, staring up at a cloudy sky. A wave of relief calmed the rising panic in your veins when you turned to see Loki lying next to you.

You took in your surroundings slowly. The clouds looming above you looked threatening, like an impending storm, and far off in the distance was what looked like a ruined city. Crumbling skyscrapers pierced the horizon like jagged teeth. Heart speeding up in fear, you quickly shook Loki awake. “Wake up,” you hissed. “I have no idea where the hell we are.”

Loki grumbled and raised a disoriented hand to bat yours away, but still cracked open his hazy eyes to squint at you. A smile lit up his face when he saw you staring back at him, and you’d have been touched if it wasn’t important that he wake up right now. Upon seeing the anxiety written clearly on your face, he furrowed his brows and sat up, shaking his head to chase away the lingering confusion. You could tell the moment he realized something was very...wrong with the realm you found yourselves in, as his eyes widened and he was instantly on guard.

A deafening roar shook the ground, alerting the both of you to a looming danger, and you turned around to see a purple mass bearing down on you. You’d seen your fair share of fucked up things to know that this was not something you wanted to stick around for. Around you, small, bird-like creatures fled from the shadowy monster. In a flash, you were on your feet, tugging on Loki’s arm to pull him up with you. “Come on,” you yelled, raising your voice to be heard over the wind that had suddenly picked up speed.

Loki whipped his head around, desperately searching for shelter, then pointed at the city. “There, run!” He took off in a sprint towards the buildings, with you stumbling along behind him. The head start you got seemed to be enough to out run whatever was chasing you, but you didn’t dare slow down as you ran full tilt to safety. As the city drew closer, a sense of dread crept into your limbs, but you pushed it down. Better to race towards the unknown when the known was actively trying to kill you.

Your legs burned and your lungs were screaming out in protest, but Loki’s panted encouragements kept you on your feet and moving long enough to reach what looked like a half-collapsed hotel. Loki rushed inside the dilapidated building, holding the door open for you to scramble inside before slamming it shut. Another roar made the building tremble, and you bit your lip. As the ceiling shook and spat dust into your hair, you prayed that it would hold. Out of the frying pan, you thought to yourself.

Fortunately, it seemed as if the monster had moved on in search of easier prey, and you took the moment of fragile peace to sink against the wall and finally catch your breath. You dropped your head into your hands, trying to force your breathing back into a normal rhythm and figure out what the hell was happening. You’d just about calmed down when you heard Loki chuckle. “What’s so fu-funny?” You asked, still panting.

“That wasn’t me.”

“Huh?” You looked up, then felt your newly regained breath leave your lungs as another Loki emerged from the darkened hallway. He was dressed in what looked like a suit tailored after your Loki’s Asgardian armor, and he wore his horns proudly. A “Vote Loki,” pin sat crooked on his suit jacket. The flickering lights above him illuminated his grin, making him look like, well, a villain.

“You’re a variant,” your Loki said, stepping in front of you and eyeing his twin warily. The only ever Loki variant you had encountered was Sylvie, and she was questionable at the best of times. Loki was right to be on guard.

“I suppose you could call me that,” President Loki drawled, tracing a finger along the dusty wall as he stalked towards you. It left tracks on the wallpaper. He leaned to the side to peer around you Loki, and you felt naked under his predatory gaze. You shrank further behind your boyfriend.

“My, what do you have here?” He asked, eyes lighting up in a way that made your hair stand on end. “What a pretty toy, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I had a turn?”

Your Loki groweld protectively, and he took a step forward. “Do not lay a finger on her.”

President Loki frowned. “That’s no way to treat the superior version of yourself.” He continued his march forward, then slowed to a stop inches from your Loki’s defensive frame. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen a beautiful woman.”

You were horrified to find a confusing sort of arousal settling into your stomach. This was, after all, just another version of Loki, the man who’d spent so many nights taking you apart and putting you back together again. You’d seen those same hooded eyes so many times, seen that same smile as Loki made you squirm. Despite trying your hardest to fight it, you could feel a dampness soak into your panties, making you shift uncomfortably.

Just as perceptive as your own Loki, President Loki seemed to sense your growing interest. His frown broke out into a wide smile. “Oh, you want it, don’t you? Go on, tell your guard dog to back down, so we can play.” He nodded towards your Loki, who had turned around to look at you with perplexed, hurt eyes.

“Really?” He asked, flicking his gaze from the blush on your face towards your tensing thighs. He instantly recognized the arousal he’d seen so many times before, and his expression grew bewildered.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimpered, trying to defend yourself. “He looks just like you, I mean, he is you, and I…” you squeezed your eyes shut. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

This was all so fucked. Just minutes ago you were running for your life in a strange new world, and now all that adrenaline had shifted into a violent desire to be broken to pieces. Just so you didn’t have to think about the horror that was your current situation. President Loki was still staring at you, pupils now blown and tongue running across his bottom lip in blatant want.

“Oh, love. There’s nothing wrong with you,” the variant purred. His voice was a bit deeper than your Loki’s, but it still had that velvet smoothness that always made you weak in the knees. A bright flash of green shot out from his fingertips, ensnaring your Loki in glowing rope.

He gasped in surprise, and immediately began to struggle against the magic, but it was in vain. You cried out and reached for him, but President Loki was faster. He grabbed your Loki’s arm, then began to drag him away from you and down the hallway. With a sharp whistle, he motioned his head for you to follow, and found yourself standing and trailing behind the two Lokis like an obedient dog.

President Loki pulled yours into the depths of the hotel, you following anxiously. Your Loki shouted threats and harsh words, but the magic bonds kept him nearly immobile as he was guided by President Loki. You didn’t dare try anything stupid; you weren’t a fighter, and you suspected that this variant far outmatched both you and your lover in combat. All you could do was obey and hope he showed mercy.

You were led into a suite that seemed more put together than the rest of the hotel. Everything looked much cleaner, especially the bed, and most of the walls appeared to be stable. President Loki shoved your Loki into an armchair at the back wall of the room, and then positioned it so that it was facing the bed. “Well?” He asked, lazily gesturing towards the bed.

A gush of wetness seeped from your core at the same time as fear gripped your chest. Two conflicting emotions warred within you, and you felt hot tears stinging your eyes at the confusion of it all. On one hand, you loved your Loki. There was not telling how trustworthy this variant was, if he was going to hurt you or your boyfriend. On the other, this was the once in a lifetime chance to experience a threesome with only Loki. A fantasy that most likely no other person had gotten the chance to experience outside of their dreams.

You cast a helpless glance over at your Loki. When you weren’t looking, President Loki must have gagged him, because there was now an emerald piece of fabric stuffed between his lips. Your pussy throbbed in appreciation at the sight while your heart ached at the terror in his eyes.

President Loki rolled his eyes. “I can’t say I’ve ever met a version of me quite this soft,” he said, walking to his clone’s chair. “Let me help you relax.” President Loki straddled your Loki, chuckling at the muffled whimper that spilled from behind the gag. The variant brought his head down to bite at Loki's neck, and your mouth dropped open.

To your surprise--and hesitant delight--your Loki seemed to be almost enjoying the treatment. His head had fallen back against the chair, and he was breathing in that strained way that he did when he was turned on and trying to hide it. Kinky bastard, you thought to yourself.

President Loki paused his assault on your Loki’s neck to look back at you. “See? He likes it, dear. Now be a good girl and get on the bed,” he commanded. The growl in his voice let you know that he would not tolerate being disobeyed again, so you nodded and clambered on top of the bed.

Sliding off Loki’s lap, the variant gave him a quick pat on the head and then made his way over to you. “Mmmf!” Loki mumbled, earning a sharp look from President Loki.

“I won’t hurt her. If you stay quiet like a good boy, I may let you have a turn.”

That sent chills down your spine. The thought of both of the Lokis having their way with you was almost too much, and your shaking knees finally gave out to send you sprawling onto your back against the pillows. Seemingly amused, President Loki snickered and crawled onto the bed. He crept forward until he was hovering over you, dark blue eyes raking across your trembling form.

You squirmed under his piercing gaze. The shivers making their way up and down your spine were unrelenting, no matter how hard you tried to keep still and quiet. “What happens now?” You squeaked out.

President Loki’s mouth opened in a wide green, revealing stark white teeth that almost looked sharp. “Now, we play.” Green light appeared at his fingertips again, and your hands shot up uncontrollably. You yelped in surprise and tugged on the rope that had appeared on your wrists. You were bound to the headboard, completely at the mercy of this variant. And fuck, it was exciting and terrifying and arousing all at the same time. What a mess.

There was that green light again. This time, it revolved around itself until it took the shape of a jet black dagger. President Loki ran his thumb along the handle, eyes leaving you to gaze lovingly at the knife. Your breath quickened in fear. “Stay still,” he purred. With deft fingers, President Loki raked the tip of the dagger down your shirt, cutting it open at the front. You let out an embarrassingly high pitched squeal as cold metal came in contact with your bare skin. But, as he promised, the variant did not hurt you. He made quick work of your pants as well, abandoning the knife in favor of simply yanking them down your legs along with your panties.

The cold air hitting your bare skin made you gasp. You tugged uselessly at your wrists, wanting to cover yourself in embarrassment at your sudden nakedness. Your frantic squirming made President Loki chuckle, and he leaned down to nip at your ear. “Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’ll warm you up.” His hot breath against your ear sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, and you couldn’t suppress a soft moan.

Suddenly remembering your restrained boyfriend, you managed to peer around President Loki to make sure he was alright. Your Loki was still bound and gagged, but now his face was alight with a crimson blush. Your eyes drifted downwards to the prominent bulge in his pants. When he caught you staring, Loki dropped his gaze away from yours, ashamed.

President Loki watched the silent conversation, amused. He trailed a thin finger up your thigh, then sat back to straddle your hips. “He’s enjoying himself,” the variant said confidently. He grinned at you. “I know because he’s me, and he likes what I like.”

All you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, naked and defenseless underneath his weight.

“Oh? Surprised, are we?” President Loki drawled as he waved his hand casually. His suit faded away with his gesture, leaving him bare as well. His long cock mirrored your boyfriend’s, and it was swollen and dripping. You licked your lips. “I’ll take it you two haven’t fully...explored his interests. Us Lokis crave dominance, to be left at the mercy of a pretty thing like you.”

“So why aren’t you-”

He cut you off with a gentle slap to your inner thigh. When you sucked in a harsh breath, he chuckled. “Because there’s something else we love. Power.” WIth that, President Loki moved to place his legs on either side of you. He grabbed your ankles roughly and pressed your legs back until they sat atop his shoulders. You groaned at the stretch, then sighed heavily as he titled his head to the side to mouth at your ankle. “Ready, slut?” He growled.

You didn’t get a chance to answer. The air was stolen from your lungs as the variant plunged his hard cock into you, the stretch burning. You screamed out in pleasure and pain, listening to what sounded like both Lokis moaning in unison. The version that was currently buried deep inside of your heat rolled his eyes back in pleasure at the feeling of your pussy flexing around him.

“Oh, it’s been so long,” the variant moaned. “I want to make this last.” He began thrusting his hips lazily, more grinding into you than anything. You whimpered as you got used to the size of him. It felt like you were dreaming with how overwhelming it all was. Your core throbbed again and again as new gushes of arousal spilled from your cunt, and your head was spinning with the knowledge that just feet from you, your boyfriend was being forced to watch another version of himself tear you apart. And he loved every second of it.

From behind President Loki, your Loki whined, and you could just barely see him twitching his hips up into nothing. “Please,” he begged, and you noticed that he had managed to slip the gag from his mouth. You weren’t sure what he was begging for. To be touched, to touch you. Probably both.

President Loki looked at you with lidded eyes, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he ground his cock deep inside of you. “Should we let him play, too?” He asked, voice ragged.

You nodded frantically. Words escaped you, but you desperately wanted your boyfriend here. You longed for his touch, wanting to feel them both. President Loki nodded and waved his hand back towards the chair. Loki’s bonds vanished, and he was scrambling onto the bed as soon as he was free.

He crawled up to the top of the bed, hands outstretched to grab your face and pull you in for a kiss. Your Loki gasped desperately as President Loki grabbed him by the hair, pulling hard so that he stopped just short of reaching your lips. Your Loki whimpered and went nearly limp in submission.

The variant let go of Loki’s hair, tsking at him like he was scolding a child. “You may not touch her without my permission.” His voice was surprisingly even, given how he was still thrusting into you. “Are we clear?”

Your Loki opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it and nodded obediently. President Loki grinned wolfishly. “Good boy. You may kiss her.”

In a flash, your lover was leaning over you, pressing his mouth clumsily to yours. His tongue sought entry, and you let him in enthusiastically. You could practically feel the desperation seeping from his every pore. You’d never seen him this worked up, and silently wished you had discovered this kink of his a little sooner. “You look beautiful like this,” he panted into your mouth.

When you began to reply, it was cut short by a yelp as President Loki’s hand dropped down to play with your clit. Your Loki kissed you again, drinking in all of your moans as his variant brought you higher and higher with those deft fingers. With a growl, President Loki snatched your Loki’s hair again and dragged him away from your lips. Loki’s pitiful whine matched yours as you both gasped for air.

“Fuck her mouth,” President Loki commanded, increasing the pace of his thrusts with a growl of pleasure. His fingers kept up their assault on your clit, and you fought to crane your neck up and open your mouth to be ready for your boyfriend’s cock.

Loki hastily yanked off his pants and pulled out his weeping dick. He shuffled over to you, then leaned forward until he was close enough to guide himself onto your tongue. This was familiar, the heavy weight of Loki’s erection stretching your jaw. You closed your lips around him and began to suck, gritting your teeth against the cries of pleasure that threatened to break free from your throat.

President Loki let go of the other Loki’s hair and instead gripped your hip roughly as he began fucking you an earnest. “So tight,” he hissed. “Cum for me, little slut. Cum for your god.”

Helpless to do anything but obey, you felt your back arch up as your entire body convulsed. Pleasure ripped through you and left you a whimpering mess, drooling around you Loki’s cock. Your boyfriend cursed at the sight of you cumming, and began to pump himself in and out of your mouth. “I-I can’t help, fuck, help myself, darling. Ah, oh gods.”

“Such a good girl,” President Loki praised. He groaned at the tightening of your walls, then removed his hand from your clit to wrap a long arm around your Loki’s neck. Your Loki was forced to lean back against President Loki’s chest, only able to keep his cock in your mouth because of his lanky body.

Your Loki cried out, the sound broken up by his variant cutting off his oxygen. His hips stuttered violently, and you felt thick cum spurt into your throat. Somehow, you were able to force it down instead of choking, and you heard Loki whimper at the feel of his sensitive length being constricted by your throat. “Love, fuck,” he keened.

Seeing the two of you cum proved to be too much for the variant. “Oh, Norns, I can’t,” he groaned out harshly, then slammed himself into you and held his hips there as his cock pulsed within you. As he came, the magic binding your wrists dissipated, and you brought your arms down to rub at the sore muscles. Hot seed spilled out of you, running down to your ass. President Loki watched his cum drip from your swollen pussy in appreciation, panting softly.

Your Loki had collapsed next to you, and was now snuggled up against your side. The variant frowned at the sight, and you could almost detect a rueful look on his face. You hissed in a pained breath as President Loki slowly lowered your aching legs from his shoulders. He sighed as he pulled out of you, a rush of liquid gushing out and wetting the bed. Most of the dominance gone from his demeanor, he shifted awkwardly, as if he wasn’t sure where he fit in this dynamic.

His sudden insecurity didn’t surprise you. After all, he was a Loki, and they were notorious for their false confidence. It tracked. After a moment’s hesitation, you reached up and grabbed his arm to pull him to lay down next to you. He stared at you in slight confusion, but obliged, leaving you sandwiched between the two Lokis. You turned to your boyfriend, who was already drifting off, too fucked out to keep his eyes open. With a soft smile, you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

President Loki cleared his throat, catching your attention. “I, uh. It’s a bit sad. Seeing what I could’ve had. I can’t help but be envious.” He chewed on his bottom lip and looked away, bravado completely gone.

You rolled your eyes and threw a tired arm around him, feeling a rush of satisfaction when he purred happily and cuddled against you. “I think I have room in my life for more than one Loki,” you whispered. And it was true. If Loki was born to be a villain in every timeline, then you were born to love each one of them.

#loki x reader #loki smut #imagine #fanfic #my writing #president loki #loki series #mcu #marvel #tva

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constancelaufeydottir · 3 years

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President Loki Wallpaper

'𝑊𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑛𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠.' – 𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝐿𝑜𝑘𝑖

#loki #president loki #loki edit #tom hiddleston #potatoedits #marveledit

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twenty-thirty-two · 3 years

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oh my GOD how is he so pretty

my new wallpaper 🥵

I was at the store today and I saw a President Loki tshirt and my brain short-circuited, he’s so pretty 🥺❤️

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rigmarolling · 4 years

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Welcome!

Well, hey, good morrow; what news, my lord? and salutations.

Welcome to Rigmarollin’, a blog run by @muirin007 . (The URL says Rigmarolling with that over-formal ‘g’ at the end because someone else owns the folksier version I wanted, so let’s just pretend they match.)

I’ve wanted to start this side blog for a while, but life was like, “Ha, that’s cute,” so I’m only just getting to it now.

This blog will be home to all things history, which I can never shut up about, even at times that really don’t warrant historical discussions--like that time I was at The Yard House with my boyfriend and his family and before I knew it, I was rambling on about the green wallpaper popular in the Victorian era that, predictably, was made with lethal amounts of arsenic, because no one did goth better than the Victorians. (Tip: not the best dinner conversation topic, but at this point, my boyfriend and his family know what to expect from me and I can’t control myself and frankly, I’m not gonna, Mom.)

Things you can expect here:

Lots of Victorian everything because I’m nothing if not devoted to my own clichés;

Lots of historical WTF-ery, because anybody who says history is boring has obviously never heard about that time Abraham Lincoln jumped out of the window of a two-story building to prevent a vote;

On that note, inevitably, lots of Lincoln because I will ride or die for the 16th president of the United States;

Video content--hopefully, potentially. Probably, at some point, because I know some people are not the reincarnated souls of 19th century authors and, unlike me, cannot stand reading walls of text like the one I just wrote (sorry, but not really). Videos are fun! I’m a camera whore! I like wigs and acting! Prepare for videos!

Some mythology content because yes, it’s historical, and yes, Zeus did do that and yes, so did Loki;

Personal ramblings, always with some historical bent, probably, because nothing is funnier than saying “ha’penny” while talking about something that happened at the grocery store.

Crying about Romanticism, mostly about John Keats. (Eat my ass, Lord Byron.)

One last thing:

rig·ma·role/ˈriɡ(ə)məˌrōl/ Learn to pronounce

noun rigmarole; plural noun: rigmaroles

a lengthy and complicated procedure."he went through the rigmarole of securing the front door"

a long, rambling story or statement.

Origin: mid 18th century: apparently an alteration of ragman roll, originally denoting a legal document recording a list of offenses.

Let’s party.

#welcome

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teafrompari · 3 years

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President Loki wallpapers

desktop version

requested

like/reblog if you save ❤️

#loki #loki series spoilers #loki series #president loki wallpapers #loki wallpapers #loki wallpaper #loki x you #loki x reader #president loki imagine #loki imagine #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston x reader #president loki #loki lockscreens #loki laufeyson

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danverstation · 3 years

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like or reblog if u save.

#don't repost #lockscreens #lockscreen #wallpaper #wallpapers #marvel #mcu #collage #loki #loki x sylvie #sylvie #lady loki #tom hiddleston #wallpaper random #loki series #marvel edits #president loki #loki wallpaper

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roonil-wazlib-at-221b · 6 years

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Rising Stars

A/N: Tom is 21 in this fic, you’re 19. All movies you’ve featured in are purely fictional and if they’re the names of real movies, ignore that.

Not in any way connected to ‘Protection’ but this was in my drafts so... Enjoy!

Tom sighs and rests his chin on his hand, staring boredly at the movie screen. He’s watching some movie with Haz and his brothers and frankly, he’s enjoyed some quite more than this one. However, Harrison seems to be enjoying the movie, so he’s at least pretending to be invested. It rather seems to be the same sort of story—girl meets boy, they fall in love, they have a fight, they kiss and make up. Along with some murder and guns, which is what Harrison is chuckling at.

Then the main character’s best friend comes onto the screen. Tom’s eyes widen. The girl is… absolutely gorgeous. She should’ve had the starring movie role instead of the supporting character, even if the main role is being played by a much bigger name than yours.

He can’t help but marvel at how well you play your character, who’s name is Maria. You never even think about breaking character, he can tell, or maybe you’re just acting like yourself. Either way, Tom’s in awe. How could someone this gorgeous be so talented? There’s gotta be something you can’t do, but at one point you have to sing karaoke with the main character and your voice is stunning. Nope, you’re perfect.

All too soon, the movie is over, ending with the two main characters getting together and being happy. Tom grunts unhappily. He’d have liked to see you one more time.

“Dude!” Harrison laughs. “You were drooling over Maria!”

Tom immediately blushes. “I was not!”

“You so were!” Sam chimes in, his nose crinkling with disgust. “I saw you when she was singing!”

“You guys are so annoying,” Tom grumbles and tries to discreetly wipe off his chin just in case there is something on there. Harrison snorts.“Maybe you’ll end up in a movie with her,” he suggests optimistically. Tom shakes his head. That could never happen—he’s a good enough actor, sure, but you’re fantastic.

“Her name’s Y/N Y/L/N. She’s nineteen years old, only recently started acting,” Harry says, reading off his phone screen. “She was in a movie called ‘Evanescence’, which is supposed to be really good.”

Tom makes a mental note of that before saying loudly, “You guys are being ridiculous. I thought she was pretty, but I’m not about to watch every movie she’s ever been in.”

Which is exactly what he does. You’ve only been in five: ‘Evanescence’; in which you were the main character and it’s about a girl who is unable to be remembered by anyone she doesn’t see after more than a few days ‘cuz at the end it’s revealed that you’re a ghost, ‘Idols’; which was your first movie, in which you played a more or less important supporting character in a society that entirely lives underground but you were only in that one for about twenty minutes, ‘Jade Necklaces’; a movie in which you played the sidekick again in a story about a girl who sells jade necklaces on the black market, ‘Stormy’; a film about a girl with anxiety, and the one that Tom had watched with Harrison, which is called ‘Scars’.

Tom doesn’t want to call himself a stalker, exactly, but he does watch all your movies, and looks at your Instagram daily (he wants to watch your story but he doesn’t want the off chance of you seeing that he saw it), and he finds out that you have two brothers; one younger named Noah and one older named Caleb.

Harrison, however, repeatedly calls Tom a stalker, especially when he sees Tom’s wallpaper: a picture from ‘Jade Necklaces’ in which you’re wearing a sundress and laughing on a beach.

Tom nearly freaks out when he sees your most recent Instagram post: a small Spider-man plushie with a head as big as your hand next to your cat with the caption ‘Peter Parker isn’t dead because I say so fight me, I cried during Loki’s (faked) death and That Scene’. He hadn’t realized you like Marvel, let alone the character he plays!

Harry walks in on Tom on his bed, staring at the picture as he debates whether or not to like it. It’s a post about him, right, so it wouldn’t be super weird to like it, like liking a regular post of someone you don’t even know that has nothing to do with him. Of course, you’re also a movie star, so lots of people like every single thing you post, but still.

“You’ve been staring at that same picture for the last two hours,” Harry says matter-of-factly. “Just thought you should know.”

“Should I like it?” Tom groans with desperation. “Harry, help me!”

Harry shrugs and leaves the room.

“Thanks for your help!” Tom shouts after him, patting Tessa when she moves.

“I know you,” you say excitedly when you meet your co-star, Zendaya Coleman, before one of the readings for your upcoming movie. “You were in Spider-man: Homecoming! I loved that movie!” You then blush, flustered when you realize you hadn’t introduced yourself. “I mean, hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N and I’m going to be your co-star.”

Zendaya smiles at you brightly, shaking your hand firmly. “I’m Zendaya and it’s fine, I’ve seen some of your movies too! You’re so talented. I can’t wait to work with you. My friend is going to freak out when he hears about this; he absolutely loves you.”

You blush a deep scarlet, letting out an awkward chuckle. “I’m really not that good. You’ve definitely had more experience than me.”

Zendaya shrugs and smiles. “Agree to disagree?” After your nod, she says, “I’ve actually not read the books for this, but I read the script. Have you, yet?”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, yeah! Actually, it’s a trilogy, so we’ll probably be called back if it’s a good enough success. And I’ve actually read the books. I loved them, but I nearly refused to act in the movies—too many series are ruined by film adaptations, you know?” You fake-shudder. “Don’t get me started on the Percy Jackson movies.”

“I know, right?” Zendaya bursts out. “They made me so angry!”

“Exactly!” You point at her. “It would have been amazing if they had actually had at least a moderately good grip on the gist of the books, but they didn’t even deserve to be called Percy Jackson. Actually, they would have been good as standalone films about the Greek gods, ‘cuz the screenwriters literally took the names of the main characters and that was it.” You blush again. “I’m sorry, that was off-topic.”

Zendaya waves a hand nonchalantly.

“The scripts for this are actually pretty on point, except in the book, your character, Alit,… dies,” you say apologetically. “From the Killer. In the second book, the base is bombed so it’s mostly about my character, Jag, who’s working in our makeshift base in the forest, and Matthew as he tries to break into the facility to get the virus. It ends on a cliffhanger of him being caught. In the third book, he makes it out but without the virus, but during the middle it turns out that he was exposed to it in the lab and didn’t die, so he’s immune, and Catherine manages to make an antidote out of it but… Jag dies too.” You laugh. “The author was pretty ruthless. Anyways, Matthew takes out President 67 and figures out that it was actually his mom all along—she’d faked her death to leave him and his dad. I don’t know what they’re going to do with your character, but your character and Matt will most likely get together at the end—it was implied during the first book that they liked each other and would have gotten together if Alit hadn’t died.”

Zendaya nods thoughtfully. “That sounds sweet.”

“Hopefully the next two movies stick to the books as much as this one did,” you say, smiling. Then you wiggle your eyebrows. “I’m actually disappointed you’re not playing Catherine, because she and Jag get together before Jag dies. Not many people get to say they’ve kissed Zendaya Coleman.”

Zendaya laughs loudly and just then, the director walks in. “Okay, guys, today we’re going to be reading through scenes one to ten. Let me know if you guys need a break!” Everyone shuffles to their seats. Your eyes skim over the people you’re going to be knowing very well, taking in the wide age ranges sitting at the table.

“Opening scene: Family sitting at a dinner table eating mush,” someone reads outloud. You have to smirk at that.

“Papa, have you heard from Uncle Mick lately?” a small child asks.

“He said he would be gone still until Monday,” a man reads.

And so it begins.

You and your friends are all watching ‘Spider-man: Homecoming’, which includes Zendaya and Ashley, the girl who plays Catherine in your upcoming movie. Your friends are all sufficiently awed by Z, who willingly takes photos with them, before you all settle down to watch the movie. You and your closest friend from school, Vivien, exchange excited glances. You two are humongous Marvel fans. She loves to make edits out of clips from Marvel movies, mainly about Bucky, but one edit that had been about Spider-man had gotten commented on by the actual Tom Holland.

He’d only commented ‘This is sick!’ but still, the two of you had squealed excitedly when she’d gotten the notification. You swear you’d nearly had a heart attack. Tom Holland is literally the sweetest thing ever, and so nice and talented, and yes, extremely hot. You’ve got a picture of him shirtless from the scene in his room during ‘Homecoming’ and it’s probably a bit creepy but he’s honestly gorgeous.

Your other friend, Athena, who is just as obsessed with Tom Holland as you, squeals with you when you see him on the screen for the first time without the suit on. Zendaya just smirks at the two of you and grins when MJ appears on-screen.

“That’s you,” you sing, drawing out the word ‘you’ and hugging a pillow to your chest.

“I know,” she says, grinning, and starts texting Harrison. The basement is filled with giggles and squeals the rest of the night, along with Z occasionally interjecting to tell funny stories about filming the movie.

About halfway through ‘Homecoming’ you stop and stare at her.

“Yes?” she asks, suppressing a laugh at the dumbfounded look on your face.

“You know Tom Holland,” you whisper and then put your face in your hands. “Oh my gosh, you’re so telling him about how ridiculous I am!”

“Ooh, thanks for the idea,” she teases.

“Z!” you squeal, lunging for her phone. She holds it out of your reach, shushing you.

“The movie’s playing!”

You cross your arms and pout but turn back to the movie just in time for Peter to be buried under rubble by the vulture. You scowl.

“Remember when this was the worst thing that happened to Peter Parker?” Athena asks.

“‘Infinity War’ is not to be mentioned in this household,” you command.

“She’s been like this for a while,” Vivien whispers loudly to Zendaya.

“That’s because he deserved better!” you say heatedly.

Athena holds up her hands. “Does it look like anyone else is arguing with you?”

Zendaya: Haz, you WOULD NOT BELIEVE who’s my costar and obsessed with tom

Harrison: Storm Reid?

Zendaya: What? No

Harrison: Rowan Blanchard?

Zendaya: NO

Zendaya: Y/N Y/L/N

Zendaya: She’s like in love with tom

Harrison: …

Harrison: How does that even happen

Zendaya: Can you believe how lucky they both are

Harrison: So we gotta set them up right

Zendaya: What kinda friends would we be if we didn’t? Meghan markle’s friends set her up with harry

Harrison: Who?

Zendaya: nvm

Zendaya: We just have to think of something

Zendaya: Hey Y/N, wanna go hiking?

Y/N: Sure, Z! When? How’re ur scenes doing?

Zendaya: its fun but a lot of work! I might invite some of my other friends too, is that cool? And i was thinking next saturday

Y/N: Yep, that’s fine.

Zendaya: bring noah too, all right?

Y/N: I’ll see if i can take him

Haz: Hey tom wanna go hiking with z and some of her friends?

Tom: sure, when

Haz: idk maybe next saturday?

Tom: that works, i’ll see u guys then

Haz: bring harry, sam, and paddy too, one of her friends is bringing their younger sibling

Tom: got it

Zendaya: Did he say yes?

Haz: Yeah, did she?

Zendaya: Yep! Jeez, i can’t wait to see her face. She is literally so smitten with him

Haz: I bet Tom’s worse.

You and Ashley have hardly been able to look each other in the eyes recently without bursting into fits of giggles. Having to kiss one of your friends is definitely a lot more awkward than you thought it would be, and trying to do it while pretending to be injured is another thing entirely.

“Scene thirty-nine, take five!” the director yells.

Ashley fixes you with a serious look. You can’t stop yourself from laughing at the sheer awkwardness of the situation.

“Y/N, please!” the director shouts, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Sorry, sir,” you say, trying and failing to mask your features into one of indifference. “Note to self: ask to film the kissing scenes before I see my ‘partner’ streaking across the set.”

Ashley colors and laughs as well, both of you glancing over at the actor who plays Matthew, who rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Please!” the director asks again and you two both quickly school your expressions back into that of seriousness. “Scene thirty-nine, take six!”

Ashley stares at you seriously, putting down the unused bandages. “Jag… you don’t have to be last in line to be helped. You can be selfish every once in a while.”

“Soldiers aren’t selfish,” you say stiffly, remembering that Jag has a nasty graze on her left side, so you lean a bit to the left. You keep your eyes on the wall but sneak a glance at her when she turns away.

“Are you a soldier 24/7?” Ashley asks, putting her hand on your cheek under the guise of checking the fake gash on your forehead. You blink slowly, staring up at her with an expression akin to the one you’d use if you ever saw Tom Holland. “Is that all you are?”

“Isn’t it?” you whisper and then Ashley puts her other hand on your cheek and presses her lips to yours. You stiffen, eyes wide, before slowly letting them flutter shut. Your hands rise to her waist.

“And cut!” the director shouts, not a moment too late. You can’t help yourself from breaking into loud guffaws and Ashley does the same. “Come on guys, be mature…” he sighs. You wave a hand at him, your eyes watering.

Noah is bouncing off the doors of the car, excited that you’re letting him sit in the front seat for the first time in his life.

“These are my friends, so behave,” you say sternly after you pull up to the start of the trail. “We’ll eat later, so make sure you have snacks, and don’t forget your stick.”

He nods impatiently, holding his lacrosse stick tightly in his fist, and shoulders his Avengers drawstring bag. “Can we go?”

“We’re going to wait for my friends,” you remind him. “Wanna throw?”

You two throw with your sticks for twenty minutes before he gets bored and pulls a small Nerf football out of his bag. You’ve only just started throwing with that before Zendaya pulls up, waving wildly. You wave back, giving Noah a perfect opportunity to hit you in the face with the football.

He gulps when you glare at him and points to your friend. “Don’t you need to behave?” He throws your words back at you.

You wag a finger at him. “Not cool, mister.”

“Okay, so I think my friends already started hiking, so we can head up,” Z calls once she’s close enough, checking her watch. “We’re going to meet them at the top and then hike along the top for a while before coming back. That cool?”

Noah nods at her and scampers ahead, instantly forgetting about his bag, stick, and football. Rolling your eyes, you scoop up his stuff and trail after him, chatting with Z about how weird it is to kiss your friends.

The hike isn’t long, and before long you can see the opening of the trees to the top. You’d dumped Noah’s stuff on him a while back, and he’s still bursting with energy despite having to lug it up the trail and quite a bit ahead of you and your friend. You’re a little out of breath but not too badly.

A small boy runs to greet you three, accompanied by a grey dog. You immediately coo at the sight of it, crouching down to let it barrel into your legs. Zendaya rolls her eyes and leaves you there, scratching at the dog’s belly.

“Hey, Tom!” she greets her friend but not too loudly so you don’t hear. “Hey Haz!”

They both greet her.

“Where’s Tessa?” Tom asks awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. Normally she doesn’t run off, and if she gets lost it’ll ruin the whole trip.

Zendaya rolls her eyes. “Oh, my friend’s petting her. She loves dogs.”

“I bet Tessa’s bothering her, I’ll go get her,” the boy mutters and jogs down the path. A girl with Y/H/C is crouching down to pet Tessa, cooing at her. A lacrosse stick is at her side.

You look up when you hear the footsteps approaching, and nearly have a heart attack.

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written-s0ul · 7 years

Text

Finding Home (1)

Summary: Avengers High School AU. Gender neutral reader-insert. You, the new kid, just want to be left alone. But instead, you get the Avengers gang – and maybe, a new home too.

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of weed? Something resembling a panic / anxiety attack, though probably not, but just in case. No specific ship in this entire story, tbh, but I’ll make sure to add some fluff + sexual tension between you and everyone, lol.

Author’s Note: HEY. So, it has been a long time since I’ve written any fanfic, much more an Avengers fanfic. I hope all the characters are in character, ehehe. So, I’ve decided to do a series of connected one-shots of your high school senior year with the Avengers gang + other Marvel characters, inspired by the 30 day drabble challenge (although I will not be doing drabbles, and for now, I’ll just do seven of them, depending on my inspiration). So, hope that you enjoy this! Let me know if there are any mistakes. Thank you! (:

Finding Home: Part #1: beginning. Part #2: accusation. Part #3: restless. Part #4: coin. Part #5: haze.

1: beginning

n. a starting point / new or inexperienced

This office was such a fucking dump. You looked at the pee-colored wall, bare but for the chippings on the corners by the ceiling. Good thing a few bulky, metal cabinets covered that eyesore of a wallpaper – although that still didn’t help in the general aesthetic quality of the room. There wasn’t even a window in here.

Your gaze fell on the small desk in front of you, unoccupied except for a laptop, a fuckton of paperwork, and some kind of 1940 action figure of a man in blue-white-red spandex. Oh, and of course, the name of your class advisor-slash-guidance counselor on a rusty, golden plaque: Mr. Phil Coulson.

He cleared his throat. You looked up to meet his gaze, and he raised a brow at you. “So?” he said. “How’s your day going?”

You cocked one brow in return, but couldn’t help the chuckle huffing out in between your teeth. “You excused me from class to – to check up on me?” You shook your head, amused. “You’re not being paid enough for this.”

He breathed out a sigh, almost as if to say no shit, but then leaned forward, the chair rolling with him, hands clasped on the desk. “Look, you’ve been here for three months already,” he said. “And I can still see you sneaking out of the cafeteria to eat by the bleachers. Or the library. Or, I suspect, even the restroom.”

Your heart squeezed. How could he know that? But you swallowed the creeping anxiety, and instead, gave him a tiny smile. “I’m fine alone, Mr. Coulson.”

“Your parents are worried about you,” he said, his already thin lips pressing down to a thinner line. His brows drew together, creases cracking his immaculate forehead. “I’m worried about you.”

You waved a dismissive hand. “I’m–”

“That’s why I’m assigning someone to you.”

You froze. What?

Knock, knock! The door behind you clicked, then creaked. You didn’t dare look who it was.

“Sir, you called?”

Mr. Coulson grinned, brighter than anything in the office. “Come on in,” he said. He waved a hand in the direction of the newcomer, and you looked up to the familiar flames-of-hell red curls on porcelain skin and the most intimidating pair of eyes you have ever seen. Correction: most intimidating human being. “I presume you’ve met Natasha Romanoff?”

When did your back become so rigid? In fact, when has your entire body been this tense? Goddamn it, Mr. Coulson. You nodded at her anyway, giving each of them a tight, tiny smile, then dropping your gaze onto a loose fabric on your shirt. “We have History and English together,” you said.

“Oh, right,” she said, nodding. A smile of her own, much more relaxed and genuine than yours, bloomed on her plump, pink lips. “Aren’t you new?”

You were about to bob your head in response, but Mr. Coulson spoke up first, providing your formal introductions – which you could most certainly have done yourself, thank you very much, but also relieved you didn’t have to do it yourself, thank you so fucking much. “That’s exactly the reason why I called you, Miss Romanoff. Our friend here needs some help around the school and, uh, getting some company – you know, the usual. Do you mind?”

Heat sizzled underneath your skin, blood swelling and tainting your whole face to the sheeny shade of a tomato. Asking another student to carry your deadweight shit? What the hell is he thinking?

“Consider it done, sir,” she said. Your eyes widened, and you couldn’t help looking up at her now. Composed and pleasant, the edges of her lips were tilted up, as if she hasn’t been asked to basically watch over another student. Another student that she doesn’t even know. She glanced down, redirecting the smile to you.

The heat in your body suddenly didn’t twist your insides. Instead, it warmed them, the way a mug of hot chocolate would be reassuring in a freezing, stormy night. You smiled back, small and hesitant.

“Great! Thank you, Natasha,” Mr. Coulson said, nodding in approval. “Always knew we can count on you.”

Riiiiiiing!

Your stomach dropped. Oh, shit.

“Just in time for lunch,” Mr. Coulson said, rising from his squeaking seat. “Go grab your bag from your classroom, Miss Romanoff, we’ll wait for you outside.”

She nodded, and after sending you a see you later look, left the room. The moment the door clicked shut behind her, you stood up and faced your adviser. “What. The. Hell?”

He pushed his chair back into his desk, then pulled out a drawer underneath. “If you’re not going to approach other people, I’ll make other people approach you,” he said, taking out a brown paper bag and setting it on the desk. You glanced at it. Does he pack his lunch everyday? “And Natasha knows a lot of other people.”

You shook your head, teeth gritting. “Sir, you’re just putting us in an awkward and embarrassing situation. This isn’t going to work.”

“Well, if it doesn’t,” he said, meeting your gaze with one corner of his lips perked up. “At least, it’s a start.” He stepped towards the door, his fingers encircling the knob, and his expression softened. “We both know you need this, kid. Give it a chance. I’ll see you next week.” Pulling the door open, he gestured for you to leave, and after shouldering your bag, grumbling to yourself, you stepped outside. Right next to Natasha herself.

“Hey,” she said, just as the door behind you clicked shut.

“Hi.” You looked down at the dull shine of your shoes. The dreaded, uncomfortable silence, you could sense, was already settling in the air between the two of you, in spite of the background noise of the chatter and laughter of a hallway full of students.

She cleared her throat. “So. Is it okay if we pass by my locker first?” she said, adjusting the stack of thick books – with foreign titles, you noticed – in her arms.

You swallowed. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” you said. “I’ll just make something up for when I see Mr. Coulson–”

“It’s fine,” she said, dismissive, as she began walking ahead, staying at the shore of the river of students, and not totally immersing herself into it just yet. “He always asks me to help out with the new kids, so I don’t mind.”

Catching up with her, you furrowed your brows. “Why?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I guess I get along well with everyone.”

Huh, that made sense. You’ve seen her in the hallways and during classes, hanging out with such a variety of people: from elite bad boy Loki Laufeyson to young prodigy Peter Parker – a sophomore who’s in your Math class already – to Class President Steve Rogers himself. She’s quite everywhere. Or maybe, for you. It’s hard not to notice someone with a presence as intimidating as hers.

“Nat!”

Both of you spun to the voice, found a blonde in a tight pair of black jeans jogging towards you, backpack over his shoulder. Upon closer inspection, you recognized him as the guy who not only hung out a lot with Natasha, but also has the sharpest eyes in probably the entire school – Clint! Yeah, Clint, uh, Bartson. Barton. You think.

He reached behind his ear, as if adjusting something, then beamed, like an excited kid. Throwing you a nod, he looked at Natasha. “New assignment?”

Her nose wrinkled. “You make this sound like some extra-credit homework.” Gesturing to you, she made the proper introductions, and you had to pat yourself on the back. It was Clint Barton.

Looking at you, his eyes narrowed. “Have we met before?”

You nodded, keeping your heart calm and your face clear of any emotion. “We have–”

“PE!” he said, brightening. “We have PE together! You’re the one who keeps on tripping in the gym, right?”

Beside you, Natasha raised her brows, amused. You looked away, lips pressed together as heat crawled up your neck. That’s not exactly your fault. Mostly, it’s the awful combination of a frictionless pair of sneakers and a constantly mopped, smooth floor. You nodded anyway.

Clint huffed out a chuckle. “You’re a lot fun.” Then, looking at Natasha, his eyes lit up, as if remembering why he was here in the first place. “Oh, you guys getting lunch?” His gaze flickered between the two of you.

Natasha shook her head, lifted her books. “Got to do something first. You can go ahead, grab a table before everything’s occupied.”

“I’m pretty sure Pietro’s got that covered,” he said, grumbling. Pietro, you thought, then remembered: one of the foreign exchange students from a country in Europe that you can’t recall or pronounce!

“Assuming he’s not getting high in the backstage of the auditorium,” Natasha said.

Whoa. Well, he does look like a very chill guy. But now, Clint does not, his forehead creased and his jaw unhinged as if affronted. “That asshole! Why doesn’t he ever share?” he said, then frowned, contemplating. “I’ll look for him–” He stepped aside, ready to leave, but somehow, with one look from Natasha alone, he returned to his position in front of you, looking like a child who’s just been scolded.

“Are you more hungry for weed or for food?” she asked, brow cocked.

The corners of his lips dropped even further. He breathed out a reluctant sigh and hiked up his backpack up his shoulder. “Fine. See you later.” Giving her a solemn salute and you a playful smile, he sauntered off to a nearby stairwell.

“Clint!” Natasha said, a warning in her tone as she turned to watch him go. Without looking back, he raised a thumb-up in response.

Your brows furrowed. “He’s not going to get high in the middle of a school day, is he?”

She heaved out an exasperated breath from her nose. “Not usually. At least, ninety percent of the time.” Turning away, she headed to the row of lockers in the corner of the hall, with you trailing behind her, and throwing one last look to where Clint had disappeared.

Reaching the lockers, you let yourself avert your gaze as she unlocked hers. Once it was open, she stuffed her books in there, but not without arranging them first – alphabetically? You weren’t sure. Some of them were in a foreign language.

Behind you, someone cleared their throat. Your heart leapt as you stepped aside to see the intruder, Natasha turning to face them too, for both of your gazes to fall on none other than the mysterious Bucky Barnes. Or, at the moment, the uncomfortable Bucky Barnes. He was shuffling his feet, hands shoved down into the pockets of his ripped jeans, and face contorted in such a way that it seemed as if it physically pained him to even stand there. It was almost kind of cute, if his presence wasn’t so alarming.

Natasha blinked. “You have a message for Cap?”

The Cap? You frowned, shot her a questioning look.

She caught this, shrugged. “It’s our nickname for Steve.”

Ah, Steve Rogers, you thought. Him being the class president and an amazing athlete, it made sense.

He ran a hand through his shoulder-length locks, strands of it swaying beside his face from the movement, reminding you, for some reason, of a field of tall grass dancing against a strong breeze. Sparing you a look, for a moment, it looked as if he was considering whether or not to speak with your presence nearby, but then, he returned to Natasha, and nodded. “Let him know I can’t make it to movie night, will you? Gotta serve detention under Mr. Sitwell … again.”

Crossing her arms, Natasha raised an amused brow. “You gonna leave him all alone with Sammy-wammy?” she said, playful.

He shot her a look, the kind one would have when they’ve heard a joke too many times for their patience to take it, and stepped back, ready to depart. “I’ll see you around, Romanoff.”

“How about lunch?” she asked.

His face squirmed again, like he didn’t like what he was going to say. “Detention. Mrs. Carter.”

Wow. Can someone really have two sessions of detention in a day? Beside you, Natasha shook head in a manner of why’d I even bother, but waved him a hand of farewell, before returning to the contents of her locker.

At the corner, you caught Bucky sending you another look, this one much more piercing, brows furrowed, as though trying to remember something. But before you can decipher it any further, he has already disappeared among the mass of students. You looked back at Natasha, just as she slammed her locker shut, locking it. “Is he … okay?” you asked, tone somewhat playful.

But as she met your gaze, her face darkened. “He’s trying to be,” she said. Then, her eyes brightened, and she raised an arm, waving at someone over your shoulder. “Steve, c'mere!”

Turning around, your eyes fell on the magnificent Steve Rogers, who was just about to turn into another hall, but now paused in his tracks, looking up from a folder of documents, just as his gaze landed on you. Or Natasha. Right, Natasha. Sauntering over here in a jacket and a t-shirt too tight for the good of anyone’s eyes, it was like he was glowing.. But that may also could’ve been the sunlight from the windows. Probably. You doubted it.

“Yeah, Nat?” he asked, once within earshot. Seeing you, he flashed a smile of greeting, but then froze, brows knitted. Then, he said your name, face igniting with a look of recognition. “Don’t we go to the same Arts class?”

You nodded, heart bouncing. Whoa, he’s noticed you? From what you can remember, your interactions with him was limited to mostly staring at the way his face and muscles moved while he sketched, and picking up fallen pencils. Oh god. You hoped he hasn’t noticed you staring too.

“You draw pretty good,” he said, the corners of his lips stretching to a smile that could hearts. It most certainly could have melted yours. Especially with such a compliment.

Brushing hair off your face, you tried to return the smile without compromising your stoic disposition, tight but abashed. “Uh, you too.”

In between the two of you, Natasha cleared her throat, and the focus was on her. With an amused sideway glance at you, she looked at Steve. “Barnes wanted to say he can’t make it to your movie night threesome with Sam–”

“It’s not–”

“He has detention with Mr. Sitwell,” she went on. “Oh, and right now too, with Mrs. Carter.”

Steve drew his brows together, disapproving and dismayed. Creases lined his forehead, and it was almost tempting to smooth them out. “Right. Thanks for letting me know, Nat.”

“One of the many services I offer,” she said, waving his gratitude away. “You joining us for lunch?”

He shook his head, low and disappointed. “Council meeting. I’ll just catch up on you guys later,” he said, now walking backwards. “See you around!” Flashing you another brilliant smile, he turned and disappeared into another hall.

You looked at Natasha, frowning. “Are all of them your friends?”

One corner of her lips perked up. “You haven’t even met half of them.”

Soon enough, you reached the cafeteria. An open dining, students gathered in this area, purchasing and consuming their food, in such great numbers that they have spilled to the surrounding picnic tables outside, beneath two towering trees and stretching, bushy branches. Friendly breezes blew past, bringing along with it chatter, laughter and the smell of … roast beef?

“Food first?” Natasha said, as both of you approached the main cafeteria, overflowing with so many students that stepping inside felt like being in a stuffy oven, despite the lack of any walls to actually contain anything. “Hopefully, Clint and the others saved us a table.”

Oh, right. You’re going to eat lunch with her and her friends. With actual people after three months of lunch solitude. Or isolation, Mr. Coulson will probably say, because you have no life. Unlike Natasha, who does, and whose life you’re now basically intruding. Fitting, squeezing yourself inside of it. Damn it, Mr. Coulson. “Natasha–”

“Call me Nat.”

“Okay, uh, Nat–” you said, clearing your throat as both of you stepped onto the end of the line. She leaned forward and grabbed two trays. “I think for today, I’ll eat somewhere else–”

She turned around, and gave you a look. The line moved forward, but she didn’t budge. “Listen, if I didn’t want to help you out, I wouldn’t. Really. But I do. So, are you going to take this tray or not?” She shoved it towards your chest.

If the line hadn’t been moving, and the other students behind you weren’t complaining, maybe you wouldn’t have taken the tray. But either way, you did, and the corners of her lips perked up, small but satisfied. She turned back to the line and edged forward, selecting the food she wanted. You followed suit, taking whatever suited your appetite at the moment. It wasn’t much.

After paying for the food and stepping out of the line, you wondered – why? Why did she agree to help you? In fact, why does she even want to help? It wasn’t like she has anything to gain from this. You looked at her, watched as her sharp eyes narrowed, scanning the tables for familiar heads. Does she?

“Oh, there they are,” she said, nodding at a crowded table underneath one of the trees. Her whole face seemed to must have brightened, thrumming with a controlled level of excitement. That’s what it must be like to have friends, you thought.

Your throat dried up, chest squeezing your already galloping heart, as you stared at that table, that table of Nat’s friends. Even from afar, you can already see some familiar heads: Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner – even you’re-pretty-sure-he’s-from-another-world Thor Odinson, and the twins from that European country you can’t pronounce, and that sassy guy from that African country you can’t remember, and three other guys who’re probably in your other classes too. But none of whom you have ever interacted with. Not a meaningful interaction anyway. Maybe bumping them in the halls, helping them pick up a fallen pen, vice versa. But nothing real. Now, maybe you’re about to have that. Meaningful, real interaction. And who knows where that could lead to?

But you already knew the answer to that, and it’s not a happy one. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You can feel the panic clamoring in your chest, building and slamming into the walls of your insides, pushing sweat out of your pores and tying your stomach into ribbons and chasing your heart–

“Hey.” You felt a gentle hand on your arm, and your wide-eyed gaze fell on Natasha’s concerned but kind face, her brows furrowed and the corners of her lips tilted up, as if she was torn between looking worried or comforting. “You okay?”

Stepping back, you blinked a few times back to the present, but nodded. “Yeah, sorry, I just–” You shoved some saliva down your desert-crisp throat, and cleared it. “I don’t think I can–”

“No one’s going to hurt you,” she said, tone soft and reassuring. “And you’re not going to hurt anyone.”

You stared at the table, as a wind whispered past, bringing along Thor’s booming laughter and Tony’s witty remarks. They looked so … happy. You’d hate to ruin that.

“You don’t even have to say anything,” she said. “I’ll handle it.”

You fixed your gaze on her, and watched the sunlight play with the color of her eyes. Flickering from green to gray to blue to green. Sweet, comforting, safe. You wondered if she understands, understands why you just can’t jump into … something like this. She looked like she does. Maybe, maybe it won’t turn out too bad. Maybe.

With one last inhale and exhale of air, you gathered all your strength, and nodded at the table. “You sure we can still fit in there?” You’re not sure of the capacity of the tables here, but you’re pretty sure ten students – a few of whom were built like Roman gods – couldn’t possibly fit in that single picnic table.

She released a relieved breath. “We better,” she said, approaching them already, with you lagging a bit beside her. “Or someone’s going to get their ass kicked.”

Ha, funny. But then, you saw her face. Wait, was she serious?

Part #2: accusation.

Author’s Notes: Okay, I think I’ll leave the whole “introduction to the team” to you, lol. Sorry! No matter what, I can’t seem to write down that scene right. No idea how those Marvel writers can handle such a humongous cast. But anyway, I’ve made it look like you already do know the cast, being in the school for three months already and they’re also well-known students, so I didn’t think it was totally necessary. The important part is bonding moments with them, yieee. Which we will all get into soon. (:

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think. ❤️

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enigmaphenomenon · 7 years

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The World of FF7 PT. 1

How well would you say you know FF7 as a whole? Not just the storyline or the characters, but the themes and symbols presented in it?

Now that the remake has been announced, I thought of writing an essay about this subject.

FF7 has quite a lot of Norse Mythology in it, as well as Jewish mysticism (with various other religions as well) This is only part 1...so I am going to tackle some of the Norse Mythology presented in the game that I find interesting.

Midgar

Let’s start with Midgar which is the starting point of FF7 and ShinRa HQ. Midgar’s name is derived from “Midgard” in Norse Mythology, which translates to “middle yard”

It is also known as

“World inhabited by men”

“Earth”

“Human world”

“Middle Earth”

Midgard is surrounded by uninhabitable wilderness. It is surrounded by desert and endless sea. In FF7, Midgar is also surrounded by a wasteland.

I am reminded of a scene in Crisis Core where Zack and Cloud talk about their hometowns, and say that a Mako Reactor beyond Midgar means “nothing else out there.”

I don’t know if this was an allusion to Midgard, or them just talking about their towns being tiny and backwater. Probably the latter, but might be both?

Midgard also has a psychogeographical distinction between the worlds that surround it. (Midgard is one of 9 worlds)

(Psychogeographical = The study of the influence of geographical environment on the mind or on behavior)

And that is the concept of innangard and utangard which was the most important concept in the ancient Germanic world view.

Innangard means “inside the fence” is meant to be orderly, law-abiding,and civilized.

And as you can guess, Utangard is the opposite--Chaotic, anarchic, and wild. Utangard means “outside the fence”

It applies to both the geographical plane and the human psyche.

I think of Professor Gast and Professor Hojo. Gast was a great scientist, but has humanity as opposed to Hojo’s lack of humanity. You could say that Gast represents innangard while Hojo represents utangard. Gast also died a man protecting his family while Hojo slipped deeper into madness and corruption. This just is my speculation and parallel.

Since Midgard is one of the 9 worlds (thus being surrounded by 8 other worlds), FF7 shows Midgar as having 8 Sectors.

Oh, the use of “middle-earth” was popularized by J. R. R Tolkein. You’ve most likely heard “middle-earth” through the Lord of The Rings series.

During Ragnarok, Midgard is destroyed. This is similar to how Midgar was destroyed during Meteor’s fall.

Ragnarok is a series of foretold events such as a great battle which results in the death of many major figures, and an occurrence of various natural disasters. After Ragnarok the world is to resurface anew and fertile.

In FF7 Midgar is destroyed by the impact of Meteor and Holy, and Midgar is shown at the end of the game to be overtaken by vegetation 500 years later. However, in Dirge of Cerberus we see Midgar lavish with grass and trees.

A number of people lose their lives in FF7 as well, including President Shinra, Aerith, Sephiroth, and the entirety of ShinRa HQ.

In FF7, it starts out as just an organization trying to stop a tyrannical power company that is killing the planet, and then spirals into something much greater. The weapons awaken, and more and more damage is caused to the world before the conclusion.

FF7 atmosphere is very dark and gritty, and overall has a very foreboding and apocalyptic settings, with it ending with a “rebirth” in a sense.

Gaia

Let’s move on to FF7 planet. Gaia.

In Greek Mythology, Gaia is the personification of Earth.

Gaia is the ancestral mother of all life: the primal Mother Earth goddess.

Her Roman equivalent is Terra.

The word Gaia means “Earth”

It is alternatively spelled as Gaea.

Beliefs regarding Gaia vary, but Gaia has been believed to be the Earth to the belief that she is the spiritual embodiment of the earth, or the Goddess of the Earth.

In FF7, there are three known sentient races of the Cetra, the humans, and then Red XIII’s race. The residence of FF7′s Gaia uses the Gregorian calendar, which is the same as the one we use. 12 months, 365 days, and takes place in the year 2007. The game starts on December 9th, 2007.

In FF7, the the planet Gaia is shown to be alive and speak to the Cetra.

Gaia is not only the Goddess of Earth, but she was the great mother of all creation.

There is a church in the slums, but any religion within FF7 is vague and not talked about generally. It is possible that at one point, they worshipped the planet as a whole...i.e. similar to the worship of the Greek Goddess Gaia.

But the poem LOVELESS mentions a Goddess, and in CC...a name is mentioned. “Minerva”

In FF7 Minerva is implied to be related to the planet’s consciousness. She is interpreted by Genesis as the Goddess in the LOVELESS poem.

Minerva is the Roman equivalent to the Greek Goddess Athena.

Minerva is the Goddess of wisdom, war, and art.

In FF7, Minerva seems to be the personification of the lifestream. So in FF7, it is possible the people worshiped or once worshiped the planet or the lifestream.

Nibelheim

Let’s move on to Nibelheim. Another incredibly important town in FF7.

Nibelheim is Tifa, Cloud, and Sephiroth’s birthplace.

The name is derived from “Niflheim” and those who have played FF15 will recognize this name.

Niflheim is part of the same mythology as Midgard, and is also one of the 9 worlds.

The most common way that the worlds are listed places Niflheim as the 7th world.

This ties into FF7′s recurring 7 theme within the game and compilation.

Now, since Nibelheim is derived from Niflheim, I’ll go into detail about it.

Niflheim is known as:

“Mist home”

“World of fog”

“Abode of mist”

“Mist world”

“Fog home”

For those World of Final Fantasy players, you may notice that Tifa talks about a town called “Mist” that existed before Nibelheim. This is the reason why Rydia is in Nibelheim in WoFF, given that both Tifa and Rydia are from a town named “mist”...in basic terms.

Anyway, Niflheim is a world of ice and cold. It is the homeland of

primordial darkness, cold, mist, and ice.

(Primordial - existing at or from the beginning of time)

In early drafts, as scene in the early files of the Ultimania Omega, Nibelheim was actually called Nifelheim at one point in time.

In German, “nebel” or the old-fashioned spelling of it “nibel” can be translated as cloud. Which would make Nibelheim also meaning “cloud-home” pointing to the protagonist Cloud, and Nibelheim being his hometown.

The word “Niflheim” is only found in the works of Snorri and is often used interchangeably with “Niflhel,” a poetic embellishment of “Hel,” the world of the dead. In other words....the underworld.

(Hel is a sibling of Fenrir.)

In a story told by Odin, Niflheim met the flames of Muspelheim.

I’m sure you all know a big point in FF7 is the burning of Nibelheim.

(Muspelheim is the home of fire and heat)

When the cold of Niflheim met the flames of Muspelheim the “creating steam” was born when the waters of both realms mixed.

Niflheim later became the home to Hel, a goddess daughter of Loki, and the afterlife for her subjects, those who did not die a heroic or notable death.

And while Hel may make you think of “Hell” the bad place where sinners go to be punished...”Hel” was morally neutral. The word “Hel” means hidden or concealed.

Fenrir

Now let’s talk about Cloud’s motorcycle. Fenrir.

In the movie, Cloud is shown to have a wolf theme. We see a wolf appear several times throughout the movie that symbolize his guilt. We see one in the church when Tifa has fallen, we see one at Aerith’s grave, and we see one at Zack’s grave as well.

Cloud also has a wolf emblem on his outfit, uses this same wolf as his phone wallpaper, and also has a wolf earring. To fans, this wolf is known as “cloudy wolf” but the most notable part of Cloud’s wolf motif is his motorcycle.

Fenrir has many translations, one of such is “He Who Dwells in the Marshes”

Fenrir is a monstrous wolf that appears in Norse Mythology. In a story, the Gods raised Fenrir to keep him under control and prevent him from wreaking havoc throughout the 9 worlds. He grew at an astonishing pace that the Gods attempted to bind him with chains.

Fenrir broke free both times, and on the third attempt was finally bound. However, during Ragnarok he broke free. Fenrir devoured the son, killed Odin (the king of the gods), and ran his lower jaw among the ground and upper jaw in the sky, devouring everything in his path.

Fenrir exists in many other stories as a wolf, but under a different name. One name being “Skoll” which means “mockery”

There is some symbolism to be had between the wolf and Cloud. One is of “Skoll” which can point to Cloud’s false persona, or “mockery” of Zack within the first disc of the game.

In Advent Children he is heavily associated with wolves. His motorcycle’s name is Fenrir, he was born in Nibelheim...see the connections?

Part 2 will consist of: Sephiroth, Tifa, Aerith, and Barret.

#ff7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #ffvii

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