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you guys ever think about how Bruce and Thor spend Avengers insisting something isn’t right about Loki and he’s not okay but everyone still thinks he was a villain doing this willingly lmao

Loki isn’t the problem He is not himself His mind is scrambled I don’t think it’s him we should be focusing on

Like okay Jan, I mean two of the most empathetic avengers, one of which knows all the signs of abuse and torture and is treated the same way by the people holding them - both say it’s not right and something’s controlling/using him/influencing him but like go off on how this was Loki’s happy dappy murder choice I guess.

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— answer these questions then tag 20 blogs you’d like to know better!

tagged by: @veritaslies​ (thank you!)

nicknames: when I was younger I had too many, mainly because I was never happy with my actual name. then I changed it, and as a result the nicknames are less. still there’s Lee, Leelee, and Len.

zodiac: Leo

height: 157 cm / 5′2″

time: 6.37pm

favourite band / artist: the j-pop group NEWS will forever have a very special place in my heart. I don’t follow them as religiously as I used to do, but their music never fail to cheer me up.

song stuck in my head: none at the moment.

last movie i saw: Miracle on 34th Street. Merry Christmas y’all.

last thing i googled: where to put the quote marks when writing your height in feet lol.

other blogs: I have a personal blog, and a blog to collect aesthetic things pertaining to my LARP character, though the latter one hasn’t been updated in forever.

do i get asks: not really, but I’m a very new blog and I haven’t reblogged a whole lot of memes and stuff, so it’s not so strange. my ask box is always open, though!

why did i choose this username: it comes from the lyrics of a song called King by Lauren Aquilia, and the whole thing speaks to me as a Big Mood for Loki throughout the latter half of Ragnarok and on post-Infinity War. it’s not about reclaiming the crown as King of Asgard, or of Midgard, or any other place or world, not anymore. it’s about redeeming himself, to leave the monsters of the past behind, and become someone he can feel proud of being, and reclaim his own crown, in a way.

following: 73 lovely people.

average amount of sleep: 7-ish hours, give or take. my sleeping schedule is messed up, though.

what i’m wearing: black pants and a greyish green t-shirt with an owl on it. it’s laundry day, so I can’t say any effort went into my outfit today.

dream job: anything to do with acting. in movies, on stage, historical reenactment, etc.

dream trip: I love travelling in general, but places that are high on my list are Japan, London, Leavesden, Scotland, and Hawaii.

favourite food: the curry and stir-fried rice with halloumi and vegetables that my boyfriend makes. also tacos. and chocolate, if we’re including sweets.

play any instruments: unless singing counts, then no.

eye colour: light brown.

hair colour: brown, but I’ve dyed it black for the past 5 or so years for a LARP character.

languages you speak: Swedish (native), English (fluent).

most iconic song: Bohemian Rhapsody, maybe?

random fact: the osprey and owls are the only raptors whose outer toe is reversible, allowing them to grasp their prey with two toes in front and two behind.

describe yourself as aesthetic things: reaching for the stars with my head in the clouds, forest witch, long wild hair, tiny badass, dressed in layers of earthy tones

tagging: @heimfrost, @dashingdaring, @daredefender, @gungnirwield, @suitofarmxr, and anyone else who feels like doing it!

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Caption this

(patreon link in bio)

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Odin // @gungnirwield​

◈ ━━━━━━━━ @reclaim-the-crown ━━━━━━━━ ◈

When Odin wanted to discipline his children, he made sure that everyone knew about it. There were no quiet talks or hushed reprimands taking place in an emptied room. No, when Odin wanted to have a more serious talk with one (or both) of his sons, he had them brought into the throne room so that all of the guards and palace staff could hear every word he was saying.

At least, they could hear every word that hadn’t been drowned out by Gungnir being slammed into the floor.

And today, he had decided it necessary to speak with Loki. The problem child. The one who, despite Odin’s best efforts, just didn’t seem to want to follow in Thor’s footsteps in regards to his fighting style. Loki favoured daggers over swords, tricks and illusions over the beauty of real battle, and frankly he was becoming far too eerily similar to a certain child he’d had locked away millennia ago.

                    ❛❛ My son, ❜❜ he started, the disappointment in his voice already so thick you could slice it with a knife. ❛❛ Why do you insist on making things difficult for us? You are a prince, a title that does not come free, and as such you are expected to fulfill certain duties. So why then, when we have important guests over for a feast, an occasion that all of Asgardian nobility attended, were you nowhere to be found? Why am I being told that you are not attending sword training with your brother and his friends? Why is it that your every waking moment seems to be spent shut off in a dark corner of the library practicing the woman’s craft? ❜❜

He sighed, placing one hand upon hair forehead gently.                     ❛❛ It’s as if you’re deliberately trying to embarrass me. If Thor hadn’t been present to pick up the pieces and save the occasion, we would be the laughing stock of the Nine Realms by now. And it would be your fault. ❜❜

Loki was late. Not entirely on purpose either—though he certainly hadn't minded lingering in the stables, knowing what was awaiting him once he left them. Curled up in a corner of his horse's stall with a book, he was usually left alone, because the only person who knew of that particular hiding place was Thor, and he had so far been nice enough to remain quiet about it. And faced with what he knew to be a scolding more public than not, regarding every little thing he did wrong in the eyes of his father, Loki had been happy to forget that time passed for a while, and just allow himself to pretend the world consisted of nothing more than Léttfeti's quiet munching and the words in his book.

But in the end, it was better to just get it over and done with. Standing, Loki brushed down his clothes to get any dust and hay off of them, but finding that he didn't care too much if some remained. Maybe it would distract Odin from one or two of his graver failures. Slipping out of the stables to make his way up to the palace and the throne room, he also attracted a few stares from the palace workers due to the very feminine cut of his robe. Though shorter than most women's clothes; falling no longer than to his knees and worn with trousers, he wore it without armour, and with wide sleeves that would be highly impractical for battle. And while usually he would couple such dress with a more feminine appearance, that day his hair remained short and his features rather masculine.

Having steeled himself on the way there, he entered the throne room with confidence, stopping only once he was right below the steps that led up to the throne. He refused to appear worried or nervous, though the obvious disappointment in his father's tone made it difficult. Though he took the criticism with a face carefully empty of any emotions, only once flickering with his gaze as he was compared to his much more favoured older brother. Then his face twisted into a grimace, before he managed a wry smile.

"My humblest apologies, father." His own voice was mockingly polite, though at the same time he grasped his hands behind his back to stop them from trembling. He had to think of his mother's encouragement, and of Heimdall's, who had also helped him train with the daggers. "I promise you, if I could be all the things my dear brother is, I would gladly embrace it. I believe that particular feast must have slipped my mind, and I was busy practising with other kinds of weapons while Thor mastered the sword. As it has been proven many years ago by now, father, I am not very talented with the sword, and I would think you would rather have me survive a potential battle using a weapon I am decent with, than lose my life due to wielding someone else's preferred one."

Loki paused, and took a deep breath. The feast had not slipped his mind, he had simply not wanted to go, but what Odin didn’t know did not hurt him. Some years ago, Loki would have bowed his head and tried to say things to please his father, but he had long since realised that made no difference. Not when trying to be the warrior Odin wanted him to be, to bury the daggers in a drawer in his room and put away his books on magic, replacing it all with a sword and heavy armour, only ever made him miserable.

"I do not care for whether it is a woman's craft or not," he continued, a little harsher, more insistent. "I could just as well have been born your daughter, after all, could I not? And what is Gungnir and Mjolnir, if not magic? What is Heimdall's sight, and the Bifrost? All the artefacts you hide in your vaults?"

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[you know how so many people always write Loki to be a fashionable diva dressed to the nines, spotless and fancy and sophisticated, who hates getting his hands dirty? and sure he is all those things, sure he enjoys looking good and knows damn well how to dress, but just take a moment. take a moment to consider Loki, dirt beneath his nails from helping Frigga in the garden. Loki, forgetting to shower for five days because he’s found a new spell that he needs to master. Loki, smelling like horses with hay stuck in his hair from reading in the stables (and taking care of his horse, because don’t you dare tell me any Asgardian, royal or not, doesn’t set some time aside to bond with the animal that might carry them into battle). Loki, sweaty and dressed in simple training clothes with daggers in his hands, in the heat of battle. Loki, running into a lake still wearing his clothes and not caring because it’s summer and too warm. just consider. messy Loki.]

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Loki.

More stories to tell.

More mischief to make.

More to come. (x)

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Heimdall // @heimfrost​

✩ -“Because I could not.” 

The words leave him raw, a burn in his throat like a bile and now - even now, he could feel the sickening climb of Odin’s shackles on his wrist and his magic on his skin. An ugly thing, to bind someone. To truly bind them.

“I could not say a word, no matter how I tried, or how I fought. I could not speak until you demoted me, and when you did you were already doing far worse than I could imagine. I gave you a chance, I asked if you required my loyalty. Your answer was banishment.”

Heimdall swallows at the tightness in his throat, drags a rough hand over his face before rolling fingers over the throb in his temple. He had no wish to remember, and no want to recall. But his past was not a thing he could turn from. 

“My treasons were loop holes. Technicalities. I distracted Odin by turning myself in, not an incorrect act, not a breaking of my vow. I assisted Thor by assisting Odin. Not a turn on the throne but a turn on one royal. I spend years learning what I could and could not say and how I could and could not say it.” 

Heimdall reaches for his wrist. Rubbing over phantom wounds. Jaw bound tight in his fury. 

“You think that your mother was all he bound that day? That all he received for peace was her hand? You were not his only political play nor his only lie. I was allowed to speak to him in private because he could silence me as he wished. You? You were not permitted.” 

A shake of head follows the words, but why would he expect a true understanding. None of the Asgardians had ever bothers to look, to ask. Odin’s greatest success was his silence.

“I took plenty for my time with you both, I agreed to many things in an attempt to protect you. You did not think to ask, or to look. Do not tell me I did not try, I have all the scars my attempts for every claim you throw at me.” 

The Watches shoulders stiffen then as Loki continues. The cold dismissal followed by a request. Needed again, always so. No matter how he left, or what happened his duty never failed to follow. It never failed to carry on.

“You wish for my help but can not even admit to wanting it for yourself. “ 

“I thought you and Thor my proudest legacy. That in all my failing of my people, of Thors people, in yours that perhaps I had done some good, perhaps I had managed to protect those boys I swore to. I do not want your thanks, I never did. You were both my family and my care.”

What more could be said then, in that moment? Laid bare and receiving nothing but politeness in answer. He did not blame Loki for his anger to Odin, to the Asgardians. Heimdall did not expect it to be at him, even if he sees it may as well be.

“You do not have to ask me to watch, there was not a moment I was not doing all I could to keep you both safe, every time Thor reached you, every guard and every planned escape. I never stopped watching, even if my all changed nothing.”

He needed to leave now, there was something to be said for a long life and tired eyes. He would get them all to Midgard, perhaps then he may get some rest. There was a beautiful spot in the carpathian mountains, stretches of stars and wonder. It had been a long time since he visited. 

He had given enough to Asgard now, for the first time he was not sure he had anything left bar this final stand

“Try and rest little prince, you need it.” 

So Heimdall had been silenced with magic. It wasn't surprising in the least; Loki had simply not thought of the possibility because it was a little less subtle than what he was used to from Odin. He waged war, he banished and imprisoned his own children, and when he had silenced Loki, he had done so in a much more visible way. More than anything, Loki wanted to point out that he and Heimdall had been treated similarly, but for someone who had lived as long and been through as much as the watcher, Loki also felt that would be cheapening the other's experiences.

Also, hadn't he himself silenced Odin and put him away on Midgard? Not that he had not deserved it, as it was turning out, but they had just spoken about whether he was like the old King or not. Loki did not want to point out further facts that he might have been, not even to himself.

Would you have told me the whole truth if you had been able to? The question burned on his tongue, but Loki kept his mouth closed, swallowed it, and tried to think the best of the watcher. Heimdall had indeed done a lot for him, encouraged him in ways Odin had never even tried. He had been crucial in shaping who Loki had become, and while that might not be something to take pride in anymore, Loki was still grateful. He would have been a lot more miserable growing up, had it not been for Heimdall's and Frigga's encouragement to go his own way, despite pressure to do otherwise.

As for getting Heimdall's help, his warning in time should Thanos come after them, Loki didn't even know how to begin expressing how much he would value it. Perhaps it was even one of the biggest reasons he had stayed, once Asgard had been turned to dust. He had had his chance to return to Sakaar, and for a while he had certainly considered it. But he had finally gotten his brother back, and what seemed like a chance to start anew, to just be Prince Loki of Asgard once again, even after everything he had done. It was a very nice thing to have, simple as it might seem.

Loki parted his lips as if to say something, but far from the first time did he find himself at a lack of words in front of the watcher. He had used to hate it, in the past, but now it just made him feel empty. His proudest legacy, his family, Heimdall called him, and it would take Loki almost a full minute before he realised hearing that meant more to him than Odin calling him his son again. By that time, the other had already left, with Loki staring after him and with his last words ringing in his ears.

But there would be no time to rest, no matter how much Loki might have wanted to. His worst nightmare, the very thing he had just spoken to Heimdall about, happened much too soon. Thanos was coming, and by the time he and Thor had rejoined the rest of the Asgardians, the watcher had already started transporting their people to safety.

It wouldn't be enough, and Thanos attacked with a ferocity Loki believed only he himself could have foreseen, because he had previous knowledge of just how strong the Titan was. The Tesserct burned his fingers once again as he offered it up to save Thor's life, but he held it steady as he defied Thanos for what he feared might be the last time, because not even the Hulk were able to take on their enemy. All Loki could hope for was to not be made to watch what remained of his family be murdered, though that was exactly the kind of pain he had been promised eight years ago, should he have failed his mission on Midgard. He couldn't help but tremble, close to his brother's side, as courage failed him completely while he watched the Tesseract crumble, and Thanos effortlessly pick up the gem inside and put it in place in the gauntlet.

The Mad Titan turned to him, and Loki inhaled, steeled himself to speak, to not go down a coward, to be something more. Thanos answered with a sinister grin and his fist raised, and then a blue flash that blinded Loki completely. And then he was stumbling onto a rocky, uneven surface, the sound of waves filling his ears a second before his vision cleared.

He found himself on a dark beach with a view of a stormy ocean, with no other being for as far as he could see. A forest loomed opposite of the ocean on the other side of the beach, as dark and ominous as the water. For a moment Loki could have sworn both ocean and trees were closing in, reaching out to suffocate him, and that it was all Thanos once again twisting his thoughts into terrifying visions meant to frighten him into subjugation. He fell to his knees, wishing for anything than to be back in that hell.

There was another flash of electric blue, and then he was no longer alone. Shaken, he looked up at Heimdall, holding his breath, waiting. The watcher was hurt, enough that he would need Loki's help, but once a few seconds more had passed with no more flashes from the Space Stone, all Loki managed was a hoarse question.

"Did you see what happened to Thor?"

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[Coming soon on the screens.] | Version 2

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[I finally watched Ocean’s 8 and I want you all to know I spent the entire movie imagining Lou to be Hela and Debbie to be Loki because obviously that’s what they would’ve gotten up to together if Odin hadn’t ruined everything and now I want AUs

(also without Odin Brunnhilde would still be around and not want to murder Hela so she can be Nine Ball)

ok that’s all thanks for listening to my ted talk]

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WHAT IS YOUR MUSE’S PLANT PERSONALITY?

DANDELION

Scrappy and tough, you’re a pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps kind of person. You don’t give up easily and you often thrive in situations that others would find discouraging. You have an instinct to serve others and see yourself as most useful in times or places of crisis, but you may over rely on your toughness and forget how sensitive you really are.

PASSIONFLOWER

Deeply concerned about others and the world around you, you have a developed sense of what’s right and just. You’re a bit of an idealist and strive to see your vision of perfection realized in the world. On occasion you get out of balance, and you may feel a deep sense of unease and be prone to worry—especially at night, tossing and turning over all that is wrong or that needs fixing.

PEPPERMINT

Unflappable. You are cool in the crisis, calm in the storm, collected amongst the chaos. You’re a breath of fresh air, a waft of inspiration to the down-and-out, a refreshing, inspiring, uplifting person to be around. Of course, even a cool cucumber like yourself can run into trouble. You may try to take on too much, which can leave you feeling weighed down and not quite yourself.

Tagged by: Stolen From: @vi-brain-ium

Tagging: anybody who wants to do it!

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Miss Page // @veritaslies​

There was obvious concern from the pit bull at her side, the dog’s whines a high-pitched plea to her owner. Something pulled when Karen reached for the railing, she felt that telling twinge of pain along her ribs, and she wondered if it was a cracked rib that shifted some. God, wouldn’t that just be completely ironic: it wasn’t the crash that killed her, not the bus that slammed into the car, but her foolishness by refusing to stay in the hospital, a potential rib puncturing her lung and suffocating her to death on the cold streets of the city.

With a fucking god standing right in front of her.

As soon as Loki stepped forward, Blue’s hackles were raised, the pit placing herself between Karen and the god. Teeth were bared to him, a warning to not move any further, and Karen did nothing to ease the dog’s anger towards him. She ignored his outstretched hand as well, unable to focus on more than two things at once. Her only concern in that moment was getting herself situated so she could breathe and see if she was going to need to go back to the hospital for a collapsed lung. (And a lecture from no doubt a very smug doctor if she did return with a lot of ‘I old you sos’ thrown in for good measure.)

Shifting enough to sit down on a step, Karen toed the gun back to her, leaning down to pick it up with a groan. “Blue,” the woman finally spoke, and the dog backed up enough to settle down in front of her. Thankfully she was well-behaved; Karen wasn’t sure she could handle some rambunctious thing right now. Loki’s words made her frown, a shake of her head given in turn. “Already been in the hospital. Not much they can do.” And that was truthful. She spent two weeks in a coma; that was all they had been able to do for her, put her into that state and hope her body healed.

It had, but it was also still healing. Karen hated feeling useless, though. So she’d left.

Blue eyes turned to the god again, the gun settled on her lap. “No need to go back when all they’re going to tell me to do is rest.” Which she should be doing then, but Blue needed a walk and Karen needed to get out, to not feel like the world was closing in on her while it was.

Though Loki's worry for the dog was as small as it had been for the gun, he at least still spared it a glance, and stepped no closer in an attempt to not anger it further. He'd been quite good with animals, back on Asgard, and often preferred their company over that of fellow Asgardians. But he doubted this dog would ever take to him, stranger and potential threat to its owner as he was. But at least it backed off when the woman told it to, and Loki let his offered hand fall back to his side once it was clear she wasn't going to accept his help.

Of course not. Though it was hardly surprising, and Loki would probably have done exactly the same, had their roles been reversed.

A hint of confusion passed across his features as she explained that the hospitals could do no more for her, as he thought of all the things an Asgardian healer would have been able to do for someone in her condition. Unfortunately he wasn't one, and had never studied that kind of magic. The most he would be able to do was to influence her mind to simply imagine the pain was lesser than it probably was, though that might also do more harm than good, and accidentally make her hurt herself further. And he doubted she would agree to it even if he had offered.

He also wasn't there to offer random humans he met on the streets his help.

"You're not taking their advice," he noted aloud, with the slightest hint of amusement, which was really all he could manage with the possibility of his brother's death still hanging over him. "And not just because your dog needs to be taken cared of, I believe."

She was stubborn, proud and independent. All good qualities that made Loki think he could have picked worse humans to end up in conversations with, all things considered.

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i am falling but i am not weak. i fall but i get up stronger. i break but i survive.

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TAROT CARD MEME

You got: The Tower

For better or for worse, you know how to make an impression. You thrive on shaking things up and leaving your mark, and never want to leave somewhere or someone the same as before you entered the picture. People may find you a little unpredictable, but they love how you always bring the fun — or at least the entertainment. tagged by: stolen from @veritaslies tagging: whoever wants to do it!

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Iron Man // @suitofarmxr

@reclaim-the-crown | plotted post-IW starter

       Tony hasn’t come to terms with it yet. How could he? It’s been less than twenty minutes since Peter just DISINTEGRATED between his fingers. He still has the boy’s ash on his hands, smudged across his face as he sits on his knees on the ground of a foreign planet. Nebula has yet to tell him they should leave and for that he’s GRATEFUL. Tony needs to take this moment, they have time… they have the rest of their lives unlike half the universe.

In fact he only looks up when he hears a noise behind him. It’s not Nebula. She’s sitting beside their ship looking almost as lost and FORLORN as Tony himself. The genius twists and is starkly reminded of the major wound to his side as pain ripples through ruined skin and muscles. An ash-ridden hands presses down against the make-shift gauze as he narrows his eyes.

“Who’s there?” Tony calls. This is supposed to be an abandoned planet, there shouldn’t be anyone here which means if there is… he LIKELY he has to run and GOD, he doesn’t feel like running anywhere right now. 

He doesn’t even get to his feet.

Titan.

A planet Loki had only seen in his nightmares, but been told enough history about that he might as well have lived there. Thanos had liked to wax poetic about his homeworld, everything from its former glory to the disaster that had eventually befallen it, all while sorting through Loki's mind and memories and twisting them in the most painful way possible. Loki would never forget it, and as his tiny escape pod - the only thing left of the Statesman - near crashed onto the deserted world, it was fresher than ever in his mind.

After watching his own illusion die at the hands of Thanos, he had fled. Not to safety, or to hide, but to find help. But as all his distress calls had fallen on deaf ears, he had had no choice but to try and do something on his own. And so he had scanned for others' distress calls, any reports of battles across the universe, and watched with a sense of cold dread once the name and coordinates of Titan flashed across his little screen. But he hadn't hesitated. It seemed one of the most likely spots for Thanos to go, which meant his brother would sooner or later end up there as well. Because Loki knew Thor had survived, and he also knew he would do anything and everything to beat the mad titan.

But as he stepped onto the planet's rocky surface, it was to find it nearly empty. Coming upon Nebula was a bit of a shock, but one he took in stride, with it not being the first time they had encountered each other. At once, he could tell that something had gone terribly wrong from her demeanor alone, and when he guessed the worst she simply confirmed it. All he could do then was to gently rest his hand on her shoulder, before leaving her to seek out the man she had mentioned to also be present.

If Nebula's sister was gone, Loki had no words of comfort to offer her, because all he could bring himself to do was pray that his own brother was somehow, miraculously, still alive.

Briefly he had dared to hope that the man Nebula has spoken of would indeed be Thor, but he was sorely disappointed. It was Stark, the Iron Man, sitting by his own, suit destroyed and clearly wounded—not that Loki cared about any advantages he might have. He wasn't there to fight, but he would defend himself if attacked.

"What happened?" he asked, stopping at a safe distance, though still close enough to be heard. "Where is Thor?"

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the revengers actual children

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