#Loki doesn’t want a throne

[mikasnazz]

Unnamed Loki variant art [although inspired by a specific comic Loki]

L8157 AKA Loki Friggason [She / They / He]

This Loki accepted their inability to inherit the throne long ago, even going so far as to renounce Odin. While they have every right to the throne of Jotunheim, they don’t wish to rule.

they travel across the realms instead, more often than not creating chaos in their path. Ofcourse they never stray away from Asgard too long, despite their appearance I promise they aren’t terrible! As far as Lokis go anyway.

Although [amongst others] they do still have a rather nasty scar on their back; a direct hit from Thors lightning during a fight. [don’t worry, they’re over it now .. mostly.]

That’s all the info I’ll put into this post as to not make it too long, here’s the uncoloured / line art version too!!

[thot-son-of-odin]

it really seems like the main reason neither frigga nor odin were going to tell Loki about being jotun was because odin was in fact telling the truth when he said “those plans no longer matter” like it really just seems like they were going to treat him as a normal nonadopted aesir second son forever, and why would they needlessly bother their child with being “different” if they never actually had to. Which is problematic and wrong in other ways than what fanon seems to think is the reason - that odin and frigga just wanted to use him as some sort of puppet king they could control with feelings and loyalty to them.

[huiyi07]

Saw someone point out that unlike his previous outfits, Loki is wearing almost 0 gold in his new one when he ascends to the throne and sacrifices himself to save all time. He has a ragged scarf and (really ugly) simple slippers. Even his crown is just jagged obsidian, thin veins of gold cracks running through it.

He’s the most powerful god in the multiverse, but you would never be able to tell, because he didn’t want to be. His throne is more a burden than glory; he doesn’t care about appearing godly or rich anymore; he’s all alone now and he doesn’t need to show off for anyone. He dressed humbly, because he’s a god who’s role is to now to serve the multiverse and his loved ones :(

[ashdreams2023]

Can you please do Loki reacting to reader if they asked for him to keep his horns on while doing the dirty 🤭 and also maybe it’s usually really soft and sweet but she wants Loki to be rough and he’s initially taken aback? 🙃 -can be whatever writing style you want, thanks

The horns stay

Loki x fem reader {NSFW}

Loki loved your lip, your eyes, your hands and your curves, every inch of you made him his blood boil with heat, he wanted to take his time lavishing you and making you feel special.

"Loki" you moaned as he took off your clothes, enjoying the way you squirmed under his cool hands and your back arched.

"I’ll be there my love just one second" he pushed you into the bed, not too strong he doesn’t want to hurt you.

He takes off his armor with a flick of his finger then reaches for him helmet but your sudden movement stop him, you sit Straight on the bed and reach for his hand, you pull it away from the helmet and pull him into bed "leave it, please"

His eyes darkened before slamming his lips onto yours, your arms warped around his neck in perfect harmony, pressing your naked chests together.

"Don’t hold back, please, I want you to make me yours, all the way"

Loki cursed underneath his breath, he licked his lips and bite your bottom lip teasingly before running his hand over your chest and squeezing your breast making me moan louder.

"You want me to mark you? Bruise your pretty skin my dove?" He breathed into your ear causing you to shiver.

"Yes, yes please, do your worst to me!" Loki grinned devilishly before pulling away and flipping you on your back, making you face the huge mirror near the bed.

Loki pulled you by your hair and lifted your head up slightly so you can get a good look at yourself and him in the reflection of the mirror.

His helmet horns still stood tall and shiny on his head "Beg me more, tell me how much you want it"

"Loki, my prince, please, take me, now!"

He slammed his cock inside of you and didn’t leave you any time to adjust like he did many times before, it was exciting and you were so wet and needy, it drove him crazy.

"You like that? That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?" He said thrusting rough into you, rocking your body with each slap and slapping your ass with his strong hand.

You watched with lust fogging your vision, all you could feel is him filling you up again and again.

Those horns made him look sinister, so intimidating, so powerful and Royal.

And you were his very own dove, the prettiest, most spoiled dove.

"Fuck you’re so wet and desperate, don’t cum yet" he said breathless then pulling out of you. You whined looking back at him and reaching your hand back to touch him but he held your wrist and pulled you on top of him.

"I did what you wished for my beautiful dove, now work for it like the little princess you are, take your throne"

You blinked away a few tears of frustration and grabbed onto his horns then seated yourself down, you were so close and just needed a couple of jumps in.

"Yes, just like that use me, use your prince" his words made your throat dry and your hips faster, he gripped your sides the whole time, digging his fingers into your soft flesh, edging you till your orgasm reached its peak and you came on his cock.

You still kept holding onto the horns, letting him thrust into your sensitive pussy until he finally came shortly after.

[amethystarachnid]

FORBIDDEN

⤷ LOKI LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, angst and maybe a tiny bit of fluff at the end

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 7.8k (damn)

ᯓ★ TW(s): so much angst that it needs a tw, arranged marriages, Loki vs Tv remote (remote won), Loki vs Spaghetti (Spaghetti won)

ᯓ★ Timeline: before the movies

ᯓ★ Request: Hi! I love the idea for this challenge, so I'd love to request a Forbidden relationship with Loki if that's okay. If you prefer not to write about him, I'm happy to see it with Tony instead! 🤍 ( @nicoline1998enilocin) [we love Loki in this blog <3 ]

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The air is thick with tension as you stand in the shadows of the grand hall, your heart racing in your chest. From where you are, you can see him—Loki, the God of Mischief, prince of Asgard, and the one person you’re not supposed to love. He sits at the long, golden table, laughing lightly at something his brother Thor says, though his eyes betray the storm of emotions swirling within him. Your chest tightens at the sight, the distance between you feeling more like a chasm than a few short steps.

You shouldn’t be here. You know that. Servants are not meant to linger, to watch, to hope. You belong in the shadows, the corners, where no one sees you. Especially not him. Especially not a prince.

But he sees you. He always does.

A fleeting glance. That’s all he allows himself. The briefest flicker of emerald eyes in your direction, so quick that no one else could ever notice. But you feel it as if his gaze had touched your skin. The heat, the longing, the unspoken words that scream louder than anything ever could.

Loving him is a curse—a dangerous, beautiful curse.

It’s forbidden. He’s the prince, and you… you are nothing more than a servant in the royal palace, an invisible figure in his world of gods and thrones. And yet, despite the danger, despite the constant threat that hangs over both your heads, you can’t stop. You can’t stay away from him, and he can’t seem to let you go.

You remember the last time you were alone together. The secrecy, the stolen moments, the way he kissed you as if he’d been starving for you his whole life. It was desperate. It always is. Each time, you know it could be the last, and it’s killing you.

Tonight, in this crowded room filled with the finest nobles and warriors of Asgard, you stand on the opposite side of the world from him. But you can still feel his presence, a pull stronger than anything else. He looks so calm, so composed, the picture of a perfect prince. But you know better. You know the battle that rages inside him, just as it does inside you.

The door behind you creaks open, and your heart leaps into your throat as a guard walks past, his eyes barely glancing your way. A close call. Too close. You lower your head, reminding yourself of the rules, the risks. If anyone found out…

But then you hear it—your name, spoken in that smooth, dark voice that always manages to send shivers down your spine. You don’t even need to turn to know it’s him.

“Meet me,” Loki murmurs, his words barely audible over the clinking of glasses and murmurs of the court. “Tonight. You know where.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. But he doesn’t need you to. You know he’ll be waiting, just as you will be. And when the night falls, and the palace sleeps, you will find each other again. You always do.

But with every meeting, every kiss, every whispered promise in the dead of night, you feel the noose tightening around both your necks. One day, someone will find out. And when they do, your world will come crashing down.

The weight of that knowledge crushes you every second, but none so heavily as when you catch his eye again from across the room. There's so much distance between you—physical, social, cosmic. A prince and a servant. The most forbidden of loves.

But gods help you, you love him anyway. And that may be the most dangerous thing of all.

The night is silent, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the palace gardens and the distant murmur of the wind through the tall, stone walls. You move quietly, your heart pounding in your chest with every step you take toward the secret passage. The same passage you’ve slipped through countless times before.

Your hands shake as you push open the heavy door that leads to the darkened corridor. This is madness. Every fiber of your being screams at you to turn back, to run and never look back. But the pull toward him is stronger, more insistent. It’s like a fire in your veins, a need so deep it terrifies you.

When you finally reach the small alcove where he waits, you stop just before stepping into the moonlight. You know he’s there, hidden in the shadows, but you hesitate. For a brief moment, the weight of what you’re doing—what you’ve been doing—crashes down on you.

You’re risking everything. He is too.

Then you hear the faint sound of his breath, a sharp intake as if he senses your presence, and you step forward. The pale light from the moon bathes the stone floor in silver, and you see him, standing there, tall and cloaked in darkness, his sharp features softened by the night.

"Loki," you whisper, your voice trembling, though you wish it weren’t.

In an instant, he’s in front of you, closing the distance between you with a grace that never fails to steal your breath. His hands reach for you, cold and firm, and when they touch your skin, it feels like an anchor pulling you out of the storm. You melt into his embrace, the tension in your body dissolving as you feel the warmth of him against you.

“You came,” he breathes, his voice low and filled with a relief that mirrors your own. His arms tighten around you as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“I always do,” you whisper back, resting your forehead against his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart beneath his clothes.

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. The world outside is distant, and here, in this stolen moment, it feels like you’re the only two people in existence. But it never lasts, and the reality of what you are doing creeps back in like a cold gust of wind.

“We can’t keep doing this,” you murmur, your words barely audible, though you feel him stiffen at your confession.

“I know,” he replies, his voice strained, his breath brushing the top of your head. His fingers run through your hair, gentle but desperate. “But how can I stop? How can I stay away from you when every moment without you feels like I’m being torn apart?”

Your eyes sting as his words sink in, but you force yourself to pull back, just enough to look up at him. His expression is tormented, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that he rarely allows anyone to see. But you know. You know him better than anyone else ever could.

“Loki, if they find out—”

“They won’t.” His voice is sharp, cutting through the night like a blade. “I won’t let them. Not Thor, not my father, not anyone.”

There’s a fire in his eyes, a fierce determination, but you shake your head, your heart aching. “You can’t protect me from this. From us. You’re a prince, and I… I’m just—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off, his hand moving to cradle your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Don’t say that. You are everything to me.”

Tears burn your eyes as you search his face, desperate to find some solution, some way for this to work, but it feels like the walls are closing in on you both. There’s no way out. You’ve always known that. But you’ve let yourselves fall too far, too deeply.

“I don’t care what I am or what you are,” Loki continues, his voice rough with emotion. “You belong to me, and I belong to you. Do you understand?”

His words wrap around your heart like a vise, both a comfort and a curse. You want to believe him, to pretend that love could be enough to keep you safe. But it’s not. It never has been.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you choke out, your voice breaking, the fear and the love warring inside you.

“You won’t,” he promises, his lips brushing your forehead, soft and reverent. “I’ll tear down the heavens themselves before I let that happen.”

His arms pull you back into him, and you cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth. In his embrace, you feel both safe and utterly doomed. You’re trapped between two worlds—the love you feel for him, and the reality of what you are to each other.

For now, in the quiet of the night, you let yourself forget. Forget the palace walls, the crown that weighs heavy on his head, the consequences that lurk around every corner.

In this moment, all that matters is him. The way he holds you, the way he whispers your name like a prayer, the way his lips press against yours, slow and full of a need that never seems to fade.

But in the back of your mind, you know this will end. It has to. And when it does, it will shatter you both.

The moment you pull away from Loki’s kiss, reality crashes back with a force that steals your breath. His arms still hold you, but the cold bite of the night air seeps in, reminding you of the walls you’re trapped between. You bury your face in his chest, hoping to hide from the truth, but it’s already too late.

A sudden, echoing sound breaks through the quiet—footsteps, distant but approaching. Too close.

Loki stiffens instantly, his body tense and alert. His hand grips your arm as he pulls you further into the shadows, his expression sharp and calculating. Your heart leaps into your throat as panic grips you. Someone’s coming. Someone knows.

“Stay here,” he whispers urgently, his breath hot against your ear, his voice low but firm. “Don’t move.”

“Loki—”

Before you can protest, he slips into the darkness, silent as a shadow. You press yourself against the cold stone wall, your mind racing, every second dragging on as fear gnaws at you. If you’re found here, like this, with him, it will be the end of everything. There’s no escaping the consequences this time.

The footsteps grow louder, and you can’t breathe, your heart pounding in your chest like a war drum. Then, from the shadows, you hear voices—deep and commanding.

Odin.

You nearly sink to the floor in horror, every muscle in your body seizing as the realization crashes over you. Loki’s father, the Allfather himself, is here. And if he’s here…

“Loki,” Odin’s voice booms, sharp and filled with authority, cutting through the night like ice. “Step forward.”

There’s a pause, a silence so thick it’s suffocating. You can barely make out Loki’s form as he steps forward into the light of the courtyard, facing his father. The tension between them is palpable, thick like smoke.

“I wondered where you had slipped away to,” Odin continues, his voice cold, though laced with something dangerous. “Is there a reason you’re skulking about in the shadows like a common thief, my son?”

Loki stands tall, but you can see the tightness in his jaw, the way his hands are clenched at his sides. You know he’s holding back, trying to mask the fury and fear beneath the surface. “I needed air, Father,” he replies smoothly, though the edge in his voice betrays him. “I find the court’s company rather… tedious.”

Odin’s gaze sharpens, as if he sees right through the lie. “Air, indeed.” His voice lowers, his next words heavy with unspoken meaning. “You’ve been distracted lately. More than usual.”

Your blood runs cold. He knows. He has to know.

“I expect your full attention on the matter at hand,” Odin continues, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Your betrothal must be finalized soon.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Betrothal.

You feel the world tilt beneath your feet, nausea churning in your stomach. Betrothal? What is he talking about?

Loki doesn’t react at first, but you can see the slight twitch in his brow, the flicker of anger that darkens his features.

“There will be no betrothal,” Loki says through clenched teeth, his voice dangerously low.

Odin’s eyes narrow, and for the first time, you hear the warning in his tone. “You have no choice, Loki. As a prince of Asgard, you are bound to your duty. We have an alliance to secure. You will marry Lady Sigyn, and the arrangements will proceed as planned.”

Lady Sigyn. The name rings in your ears like a death knell.

Loki’s jaw tightens, fury flashing across his face. “I won’t be a pawn in your games, Father.”

“You will do what is required of you,” Odin thunders, his voice leaving no room for defiance. “This is not a debate.”

Your legs threaten to give out beneath you, but you force yourself to stay hidden, clutching at the stone wall to keep yourself upright. He’s going to marry someone else. It feels like your heart is being ripped from your chest, the agony too much to bear.

“I don’t care about your alliances or your politics,” Loki spits, his control slipping as the rage breaks through. “You don’t understand—”

“I understand more than you think,” Odin snaps, stepping forward, towering over Loki. “You’re blinded by foolishness, by her.”

Her. The word hangs in the air, sharp and cruel.

You.

The blood drains from your face, your heart seizing in panic. Odin knows. He’s known all along.

“This servant girl has no place in your life,” Odin declares, his voice filled with disdain. “She is beneath you, beneath the throne. I will not allow you to throw away your future for something so meaningless.”

Loki’s entire body tenses, fury radiating off him in waves. “She is not meaningless,” he growls, his voice venomous, his control slipping further. “You don’t know anything about what she means to me.”

“And you will forget her,” Odin commands, his tone final and merciless. “If you refuse to do your duty, then she will be sent away, far from Asgard, where you will never see her again.”

A sob catches in your throat, but you swallow it down, your vision blurring with unshed tears. He would banish you. Rip you away from Loki, from everything. The love you’ve kept secret, the love that burns so brightly it hurts—destroyed.

“No,” Loki’s voice is a low, dangerous growl, but there’s an edge of desperation to it. “You can’t take her from me.”

Odin’s eyes blaze with cold fire. “I can. And I will.”

The silence that follows is deafening. You don’t move, don’t breathe, waiting for the moment to shatter. But Loki—Loki steps closer to his father, his eyes burning with defiance.

“If you take her from me,” Loki says quietly, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage, “you’ll lose me too.”

The words hang in the air like a threat, the tension between them palpable, and for a moment, the night itself seems to hold its breath.

But Odin’s face hardens. “You would forsake your family, your throne, for her?”

Loki doesn’t answer right away, his jaw clenched, his breath shallow. Finally, he speaks, his voice low but firm. “I already have.”

Odin stares at him, disbelief flickering across his face, before his expression turns cold, harder than ever. “Then you are no son of mine.”

The words cut deeper than any sword, and you feel the sharp sting of tears spill over as the weight of them sinks in. Loki stands there, frozen for a moment, his face betraying the pain he feels, even if he tries to hide it. Then, without another word, Odin turns and strides away, his footsteps echoing through the night, leaving you and Loki alone in the suffocating silence.

Loki stands there for a long moment, staring at where his father had been, his chest rising and falling with the effort to keep his emotions in check. Then, slowly, he turns to you, his face pale, his eyes dark with anguish.

“I’ve lost him,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, as if the weight of his choice is only now sinking in.

You step toward him, your heart breaking for him, for both of you, but the words won’t come. All you can do is reach for him, pulling him into your arms, holding him as tightly as you can, as if you could somehow shield him from the world crashing down around you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I’m so sorry.”

Loki’s arms wrap around you, and for a moment, it feels like the two of you are the only ones left in the universe, clinging to each other amidst the wreckage. But you know—deep down—you can’t escape the truth forever.

You’ve both lost too much.

And the worst is yet to come.

The decision gnaws at you for days, eating away at your soul like a poison you can’t expel. Each moment you spend with Loki after that night feels like borrowed time, a dream on the verge of ending. You know what you have to do, but the thought of it turns your stomach, fills you with a dread so deep it feels as if it’s suffocating you.

But you also know why you have to do it.

Loki would never leave you. He would burn the Nine Realms down before he let anyone take you from him. But that’s precisely why you must be the one to leave.

Loki needs his father’s approval more than he’ll ever admit, more than he even realizes. Beneath the layers of defiance, anger, and rebellion, there is still a part of him—perhaps the most fragile part—that craves Odin’s acceptance, his love. You’ve seen the way Loki’s face tightens every time Odin’s words cut too deep, the way his heart breaks a little more with every dismissal. He hides it well from the world, but not from you. Never from you.

And now, because of you, that fragile part of him has been shattered.

The memory of Odin’s voice still echoes in your mind, cold and merciless: “Then you are no son of mine.” You remember the way Loki’s breath caught, the brief flicker of pain that crossed his face before he masked it with anger. But you saw it. You felt it.

This is not what you wanted for him. Not this rift, not this war between him and his father. He’s lost too much already, and you can’t be the reason he loses more. You can’t be the reason he’s torn apart, trying to balance his love for you and his duty to his family.

You make your decision, the weight of it crashing down on you with a finality that leaves you breathless.

You’ll leave. You’ll exile yourself to Midgard—Earth—where no one will find you. Where no one will look. You’ll disappear from his life, make it seem like you were taken, lost, or gone by choice. If he believes you’ve left, if he thinks you’ve moved on, then maybe—just maybe—he’ll do what he must. He’ll marry Lady Sigyn, secure his place as prince, and perhaps… perhaps he’ll finally earn the approval he’s always longed for.

It will destroy you. You know this. But if it saves him, it will be worth it.

That night, you leave without a word.

You wait until the palace is asleep, the halls quiet, only the distant sound of guards patrolling. You know this place too well by now, know the hidden corridors, the back passageways where no one will notice you slipping away. Your heart hammers in your chest, every step feeling heavier than the last, but you push through the pain.

The small bag you carry feels like a weight tethering you to the ground. Inside are only the essentials—things you will need to survive on Earth. It feels wrong, surreal, to leave behind everything you’ve ever known, but it’s a small price to pay for Loki’s future.

As you pass through the courtyard, the moon hangs low in the sky, casting a pale, silver light over Asgard. It feels like the last time you’ll ever see it—your home, the place where you fell in love with a prince you never should have touched. Your throat tightens, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop.

The Bifrost glows in the distance, a beacon of escape, and your steps quicken, though every part of you screams to turn back. You’ll leave through the Bifrost, beg Heimdall to send you to Midgard. You pray he will understand, that he’ll let you go without question.

But as you near the Rainbow Bridge, something stops you in your tracks.

A figure stands in your path, his golden eyes glowing beneath his helm. Heimdall.

You knew he would be here, guarding the way to the other realms, but the intensity of his gaze as it falls upon you makes you falter. He sees everything, knows what you intend before you even speak.

“Heimdall, I—” Your voice trembles, but you force yourself to stand tall, to speak with conviction. “I need you to send me to Midgard. Please.”

Heimdall says nothing at first, his gaze piercing through you, as if reading every secret, every hidden intention behind your eyes. The weight of his silence is crushing.

“Do you truly believe leaving will solve anything?” he asks, his voice low, but full of knowing. “Do you think disappearing will bring him peace?”

Tears sting your eyes, but you shake your head, biting down the sob that claws its way up your throat. “He can’t lose everything because of me. He needs to stay here. He needs to—”

“To marry another woman and live in misery?” Heimdall’s gaze softens, just barely. “Loki would never forgive himself. Or you.”

You wipe the tears from your cheeks, trying to keep your voice steady. “He will. In time. He will forget me, and he’ll be what his father wants him to be.”

Heimdall’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a heaviness to his words when he speaks again. “Loki loves you more than you know. His path may be fraught with darkness, but losing you will plunge him deeper into it than you realize.”

You freeze at his words, the full weight of them sinking into your chest. A part of you knows he’s right. Loki’s love for you is boundless, a consuming fire that would burn anything in its path to keep you safe. But that’s why you have to leave. It’s the only way to keep him from losing more than he already has.

“He’ll survive,” you whisper, the words almost breaking you. “He’ll find a way to live without me.”

Heimdall’s gaze holds yours for a long, agonizing moment. “Perhaps. But will you survive without him?”

The question feels like a blow to your chest, and for a moment, the resolve you’ve built crumbles. You can’t imagine a world without Loki. Can’t imagine a life where you don’t feel his hands pulling you close in the dead of night, his voice whispering your name like a sacred thing.

But that’s why you have to do this.

“I have to try,” you choke out, your tears finally falling freely. “He needs his family. He needs his father. He needs to be what Asgard wants him to be.”

Heimdall watches you for a moment longer, his eyes filled with something that looks almost like sorrow. But then, slowly, he steps aside, clearing your path to the Bifrost.

“If this is your choice,” he says quietly, “I will not stop you.”

You stare at the shimmering path before you, the way to Midgard open, the escape you so desperately sought now within reach. But now that you’re standing on the brink of it, your heart feels like it’s being torn in two.

Without another word, you take a step forward, and then another. Each step feels heavier than the last, like your heart is shattering with every inch you put between yourself and Asgard—between yourself and him.

Just as you reach the edge of the Bifrost, you stop, one final thought seizing you.

Loki will wake, and he’ll look for you. He’ll search every corner of the realm, desperate to find you, to pull you back into his arms. But you won’t be there.

You press a hand to your chest, willing the pain to subside, but it only deepens. And then, before you can second-guess yourself, you step into the beam of light and let it take you.

As you’re pulled toward Midgard, the last image that flashes in your mind is Loki’s face—his eyes, his smile, the way he said your name like a promise.

And then it’s gone, along with everything you ever knew.

The moment Loki wakes, something feels wrong. The cold weight of the bed beside him, where you should be, is empty. His hand moves to the space where you usually lie, expecting to find the warmth of your body, but there’s nothing. The absence hits him like a sudden plunge into icy water, and panic claws at his chest.

“Y/N?”

His voice echoes in the room, but only silence answers.

He sits up quickly, his heart pounding in his ears. His eyes scan the dimly lit chamber, searching for any sign of you—your cloak tossed on a chair, your hairpin on the table, anything. But the room is empty. Too empty. His gut twists as dread coils within him.

You’ve vanished.

He throws on his cloak and storms out of the room, a desperate, wild energy propelling him forward. His mind races, a hundred possibilities flashing through his head, each worse than the last. Where could you have gone? You wouldn’t leave him without saying anything. You wouldn’t.

He searches the palace, every hallway, every hidden alcove where you might have retreated. Each passing minute tightens the vice around his heart, and a dark, sickening fear begins to take root.

It’s only when he reaches the gardens that he spots Heimdall, standing still, his gaze fixed far beyond the realm of Asgard.

“Where is she?” Loki demands, his voice sharp, though beneath it, there’s a tremor of fear. “Heimdall, where is she?”

The gatekeeper’s golden eyes shift toward him, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of sympathy, a look that confirms Loki’s worst suspicions.

“She’s gone,” Heimdall says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of sorrow.

Loki’s heart plummets, the ground seeming to tilt beneath him. “Gone?” His voice is barely above a whisper. “Where?”

Heimdall doesn’t answer immediately, but the silence speaks volumes. Loki’s eyes narrow, anger flashing in them like a storm. “Where?”

“Midgard,” Heimdall finally says, the word falling between them like a death sentence. “She left… to spare you.”

The words don’t register at first. Loki stares at Heimdall, his mind struggling to make sense of it. You… left? To spare him? It feels impossible, unreal, like some cruel trick the Norns themselves had spun just to watch him unravel.

“She left because she believed it would save you,” Heimdall continues, his voice gentle but firm. “To make you fulfill your duty. To win back your father’s approval.”

Loki’s body goes rigid, his chest tightening painfully as the full weight of it hits him. You’d left him. You’d sacrificed yourself, your happiness, to give him something he never even wanted—a hollow peace with his father, a loveless marriage that would tie him to a woman he didn’t care for.

“No…” The word tumbles from his lips, broken, as if by saying it, he could undo the truth. “No, she wouldn’t… she couldn’t…” But even as he says it, he knows it’s exactly what you would do. You would throw yourself into the abyss if it meant saving him, even if it destroyed you in the process.

The pain is unbearable. The thought of you, alone on Midgard, thinking that leaving was the only way to save him—it rips through him like a blade. His vision blurs, the edges of his world collapsing in on itself. He turns on his heel, moving before he even knows what he’s doing.

He’ll find you. He’ll bring you back. Nothing will stop him. Not his father, not this cursed marriage, not the Nine Realms themselves.

But just as he storms toward the Bifrost, the familiar voice of his mother stops him in his tracks.

“Loki.”

Frigga’s voice is soft but firm, and when he turns to face her, her expression is filled with concern, with sadness. “I know what you’re thinking, but you cannot go after her.”

“Why not?” Loki snaps, his chest heaving with the force of his emotions. “Why should I stay here and let her go? I won’t.”

Frigga steps closer, her eyes searching his face. “Because your father has commanded it. And because you must meet Lady Sigyn today. The arrangements have already been made.”

Loki’s blood runs cold. Sigyn. His betrothed. The woman he’s being forced to marry.

His fists clench at his sides, his mind screaming at him to refuse, to defy his father’s every order, but the weight of his mother’s words, of Odin’s power over him, crashes down like a hammer. For a moment, he’s paralyzed—trapped between the burning desire to chase after you and the crushing reality of his duty.

“I can’t,” he breathes, shaking his head. “I can’t marry her, Mother. Not when—”

Frigga’s hand rests gently on his arm, her eyes filled with sympathy. “I know, my son. But for now, you must.”

The meeting with Lady Sigyn is nothing short of torturous.

The grand hall where the introductions take place feels stifling, every gilded surface mocking him, every face around the table a reminder of the farce he’s being forced to play. Lady Sigyn stands before him, dressed in the finest Asgardian silks, her long blonde hair flowing like a waterfall down her back. She is every inch the perfect noblewoman, her posture elegant, her beauty undeniable.

But Loki can’t see her. Not really.

Every time his eyes fall on her, all he sees is you. Your laugh, your touch, your smile when you tease him in private moments. Every word Sigyn speaks fades into background noise, drowned out by the memories of your voice, the softness of it when you whispered his name in the dark.

“I hope this union will bring peace to our realms,” Sigyn says, her voice calm, rehearsed, a woman born to play this role. She speaks of duty and honor, of the alliance their marriage will secure.

Loki nods, his jaw tight, but his mind is a thousand miles away.

He remembers how you would laugh at the absurdity of formalities, how you would roll your eyes at the very thought of grand speeches like this. You were never afraid to speak your mind to him, never afraid to push him, to make him feel real. Sigyn’s words, though perfectly crafted, feel like ash in his mouth, a hollow echo of something he cannot connect to.

When she reaches for his hand, Loki almost recoils, the touch foreign, unwelcome. He lets her take it, but it’s wrong. Her fingers feel cold, delicate but empty. They’re not your hands, not the hands he’s craved, not the touch he would burn worlds for.

The more Sigyn speaks, the more unbearable it becomes. Her beauty, her grace, her calm demeanor—it’s everything Asgard expects of its princess. But Loki doesn’t want perfection. He doesn’t want her. He wants the fire, the passion, the laughter that only you could bring him.

He wants you.

As the meeting drags on, Loki’s mind spirals, twisting in on itself. How could he be standing here, listening to the woman he’s supposed to marry, when the only woman who truly owns his heart is gone? He doesn’t care about alliances, about politics, about securing his place in Asgard. All of it is meaningless without you.

The pain of your absence is suffocating, a wound that will never heal. You, who sacrificed everything for him, who left so that he might live the life Odin had planned for him. And now he’s here, going through the motions, trapped in a future that feels like a prison.

Sigyn’s voice fades again, and all Loki can think of is finding you, holding you in his arms, telling you that he doesn’t care about his father’s approval. That he would give up his throne, his title, everything — if only you would come back to him.

Because without you, none of it means anything at all.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It’s strange, this new life you’ve carved out for yourself on Midgard.

At first, it was jarring—too quiet, too mundane, and too empty. The absence of Asgard's grand halls, the shimmering skies, the bustling sounds of a realm so unlike this one… and the absence of him. The silence was the worst part. You had grown so used to Loki’s presence—his wry comments, his wit, the way his voice could fill any room, soft yet commanding. The nights felt impossibly long without his warmth beside you.

But eventually, you adapted. You had to.

Days turned into weeks, and then into months, and you forced yourself to settle into this new reality. You found a job—something simple, something that kept your mind busy and your hands occupied, so you wouldn’t think too much about what you left behind. The people here were kind, in a way that felt foreign but comforting. They didn’t ask questions about who you were or where you came from, and for that, you were grateful.

But no matter how much time passed, there was always a hollow space inside you, a part of you that felt incomplete. You could pretend, most days, that you were fine—that you had made peace with your decision. But every now and then, when you walked home alone, when you lay in your bed at night staring at the ceiling, the ache in your chest would return, sharp and unforgiving.

You still thought of him. You wondered how he was, whether he’d married Sigyn, whether he had found some semblance of happiness without you. Whether he had moved on.

Whether he missed you as much as you missed him.

It’s been a long day at work, and your legs ache as you make your way up the stairs to your small apartment. The autumn air is crisp, the streets of Midgard quiet and peaceful as you climb the last few steps, your breath coming out in small clouds. You fumble with your keys as you unlock the door, mind drifting to the usual thoughts of dinner and maybe a long bath.

You push the door open, kicking it shut behind you with a sigh of relief, and set your bag down. The apartment is dark, just as you left it this morning. You reach for the light switch, but before your fingers even touch it, you feel it.

The presence.

A chill runs down your spine. You know this feeling—the prickle of awareness, the way the air seems to shift around you. It’s the feeling of someone powerful, someone familiar, watching you. Your heart races as you turn slowly, your breath catching in your throat.

He’s there.

Loki stands in the corner of your apartment, bathed in shadows, but there’s no mistaking him. His tall, lean frame, his raven hair falling just past his shoulders, and those piercing green eyes that seem to see straight through you. For a moment, you can’t breathe. You can’t think.

It’s like he’s stepped out of a dream—one you’ve had so many times it hurts. But this… this is no dream.

“Loki…” His name slips from your lips, a whisper, a question, a prayer all at once.

He doesn’t move at first, just watches you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. There’s something unreadable in his gaze—something darker, more raw than you’ve ever seen before.

“You left,” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. There’s no anger in it, no accusation, but the pain beneath the words is unmistakable. “You left without telling me.”

Your heart clenches painfully in your chest. There’s so much you want to say, so much you need to explain, but the words stick in your throat. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. All the reasons, all the justifications you told yourself back then seem to crumble in the face of his presence.

“I…” You force the words out, your voice barely above a whisper. “I had to.”

Loki steps forward, and in the dim light, you can see the shadows under his eyes, the way his face is drawn, as though he hasn’t slept in days—weeks, maybe. There’s a desperation in his movements, a restrained storm beneath his calm exterior.

“Had to?” His voice is sharper now, the hurt lacing every syllable. “You had to disappear? You had to leave me without a word, without a trace, as if we meant nothing to each other?”

You flinch at the raw pain in his words, and your heart aches with the weight of it. You take a step toward him, shaking your head. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to. Loki, you have to understand—I thought I was doing what was best for you. Your father, the marriage… I couldn’t stand in the way of your future. I couldn’t be the reason you lost everything.”

Loki’s eyes flash with something fierce, something bordering on rage. “My future?” He laughs, but it’s a bitter, hollow sound. “You think any of that matters to me without you? You think I would trade you for a throne I never wanted? For a father’s approval that means nothing to me?”

You stare at him, frozen, your mind reeling. “But… I thought…”

“You thought wrong,” he cuts in, his voice hard, but his eyes soften as they lock onto yours. “I didn’t want any of it. Not the marriage, not Asgard’s politics, not my father’s favor. All I ever wanted was you.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. The words you longed to hear, the ones you feared you never would—they hang in the air between you, heavy with truth and regret.

“Loki…” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I… I left so you could be free.”

“Free?” His eyes darken, and he steps closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, close enough that the familiar scent of him—magic, leather, and something inherently Loki—wraps around you like a fog. “I’ve never been more imprisoned than in the moment you were gone.”

You blink back tears, your vision blurring as his words sink in. The months of separation, of silence, of convincing yourself you were doing the right thing—it all unravels in a single moment.

“I thought I was saving you,” you confess, your voice cracking. “I thought I was doing what was right.”

Loki’s hands reach out, and before you can even process it, his fingers are gently cupping your face, his touch so familiar, so warm. “You were always what was right,” he murmurs, his voice breaking with emotion. “I didn’t want their approval. I didn’t want their expectations. All I wanted was you.”

Tears spill down your cheeks, and before you know it, you’re collapsing into his arms, the months of pain and loneliness crashing down all at once. He pulls you close, his grip tight, as if afraid you’ll vanish again if he lets go. His lips press against your hair, your temple, every touch a reassurance that he’s here—that this is real.

“I searched everywhere for you,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “I tore through realms to find you. And now that I have, I’m not letting you go again. Not ever.”

You cling to him, your face buried in his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. The weight of your decision, the months of agony, seem to melt away in his embrace, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to breathe.

You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. “Loki,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, brushing a tear from your cheek with a tenderness that undoes you. “You don’t need to be. We’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

And as his lips meet yours in a kiss that is both desperate and gentle, filled with all the words that were left unsaid, you know he’s right.

The decision isn’t made lightly, but once Loki has you back in his arms, there’s no going back. Not to Asgard’s grand halls, not to the suffocating weight of duty, and certainly not to the life his father had tried to carve out for him. He’s already wasted too much time, bound by the expectations of others.

So he stays. On Midgard. With you.

It’s a wild, audacious choice—and exactly the kind of thing Loki would do.

The transition, however, is a bit… rocky.

A few days after he’s settled into your apartment, you come home from work to find him sitting on the couch, staring at the TV remote like it’s some kind of strange artifact. He holds it up the moment you walk in.

“What is this infernal device?” he asks, his voice laced with frustration, as if the small piece of plastic has personally wronged him. “I’ve been trying to command this ‘box of illusions’ to show me something worth watching for hours!”

You stifle a laugh, biting your lip as you take off your coat. “That’s… a TV remote, Loki. You’re supposed to press the buttons, not talk to it.”

His brow furrows, clearly unimpressed. “Ridiculous,” he mutters, tossing the remote aside with a look of disdain. “Why should I be at the mercy of these buttons when I have the power to bend reality?”

“Because,” you say, walking over to him and taking a seat on the couch, “here on Midgard, we use buttons. And reality-bending might raise some eyebrows with the neighbors.”

He huffs but doesn’t argue, though you can see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Midgardians and their absurd contraptions…” he mutters under his breath, but then he turns to you, his expression softening as he reaches for your hand. “At least you’re worth all of this.”

You can’t help but smile, leaning into him as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “I’m glad you think so.”

The adjustment to Midgardian life isn’t just about TV remotes, though. Loki, for all his godlike powers and silver-tongued brilliance, is… well, a little out of his element in this new world.

For instance, grocery shopping.

The first time you take him to a supermarket, he stands in the produce aisle, staring at the variety of fruits and vegetables as if they’ve personally offended him.

“Why are there so many kinds of apples?” he demands, picking up a Granny Smith and inspecting it with suspicion. “What is the difference between this and the others?”

“They’re just different types, Loki,” you explain, grabbing a couple of apples and putting them in your basket. “You’ll get used to it.”

He narrows his eyes, still unconvinced, before tossing the apple back into the pile. “Midgard is an odd place.”

But despite his grumbling, you can tell he’s slowly warming up to it. There’s a lightness to him now that you haven’t seen in so long. A freedom. Without Asgard’s heavy expectations looming over him, Loki is… different. Lighter. Happier.

Of course, he still has his dramatic moments.

One evening, you come home to find Loki pacing the living room with a determined look on his face, wearing your floral apron—the one with little daisies on it—while holding a spatula like it’s a weapon of great importance.

“Darling,” he declares the moment you walk through the door, “I have decided to master the art of Midgardian cuisine.”

You blink at him, trying very hard not to laugh at the sight of Loki, Prince of Asgard, dressed in a flowery apron and looking deadly serious. “Is that so?”

He nods gravely. “Indeed. You deserve the finest of meals, prepared by the finest of hands.” He pauses, glancing toward the kitchen with a frown. “However, these ‘instructions’ you provided me with are… unnecessarily complicated.”

You peer into the kitchen, where you spot an open cookbook lying on the counter, pages spattered with flour and other mysterious substances. Loki has clearly attempted something—whether it’s edible or not is another question.

“Okay,” you say, stepping closer to inspect the chaos. “What exactly were you trying to make?”

“Something called… spaghetti?” He says the word like it’s in another language, which, technically, it is. “It seemed simple enough, but this… pasta refused to cooperate.”

You stifle a laugh, eyeing the pot of overcooked noodles sitting in the sink. “I think you might’ve boiled it a little too long.”

“Too long?” Loki frowns, clearly offended by the suggestion. “It was behaving most stubbornly. I merely asserted my dominance.”

“That’s… not how cooking works, Loki.”

He huffs, folding his arms. “Midgardian food is clearly inferior. I’ll never understand why you enjoy it so much.”

You chuckle, reaching up to wipe a streak of flour from his cheek. “Well, I appreciate the effort.”

He leans into your touch, his frustration melting away as he pulls you into his arms. “For you, I would do far worse than battle rebellious pasta.”

“I know,” you say softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “But maybe we should just order pizza.”

He sighs dramatically, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “If we must.”

Despite the quirks and the occasional mishap, there’s something incredibly sweet about watching Loki navigate this new life. He’s traded his princely titles and royal duties for quiet evenings with you, for late-night walks through the city, for the simple joy of waking up next to you without the weight of Asgard on his shoulders.

And it’s not just about what he’s given up—it’s about what he’s gained. Here, with you, he’s free to be himself, without the judgment of his father or the expectations of the court. He’s no longer Loki, the Trickster Prince. He’s just… Loki.

And as the two of you sit together on the couch, sharing a pizza (which Loki begrudgingly admits is quite good), he leans over and presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“You know,” he murmurs, his voice warm and low, “I never thought I could be happy like this. But you… you make everything worth it.”

You smile, resting your head against his shoulder. “I feel the same way.”

There’s a moment of quiet, the two of you just enjoying each other’s presence. And then Loki, ever the trickster, grins down at you.

“But I am going to master that television contraption,” he says, his tone utterly serious. “It will not defeat me.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Whatever you say, Loki.”

And as the night stretches on, with him beside you, you realize that this—this simple, beautiful life—is more than you ever dreamed of. It’s not the palace of Asgard or the grandeur of the realms, but it’s yours. And that’s all that matters.

Because as long as you’re with Loki, wherever you are, it will always feel like home.

[simplyholl]

Punished

Summary: You're taught a lesson when you make President Loki jealous.

Pairing: President Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. Noncon. Death.

A/N: This is a really dark fic please skip if it’s not your thing.

See my Masterlist here

“Don’t act shy now, my pet.” President Loki smiles wickedly. Using his iron grip on your hair, he jerks your head toward the crowded room of other Loki variants and men who worked for the him. Your lack of clothes made you want to shrivel up and hide from the stares of the other men. “You weren’t ashamed when you were spreading your legs for him, were you?”

His disgust evident in his voice, he gestures to the one Loki that looks just like him, his hands tied behind his back and two men restraining him. You had met him when the other variants stumbled upon him, and brought him to the bunker to hide from Alioth. He was so different from President Loki. He was lonely, just like everyone who ended up in this god forsaken place.

President Loki was your protector. He kept you safe in exchange for sexual favors. But you belonged only to him. He made sure everyone knew it. He was cruel to you, using you mostly as a sex toy. Loki, on the other hand, would sneak food and any trinkets he thought you might like. You grew closer until it bubbled over one night. President Loki was furious with one of the other men. He stole a piece of bread out of the President’s stash. It wasn’t like President Loki needed it. He hoarded all the food and anything he deemed of value. He and his men ate like kings while the rest of you went hungry most of the time.

So he was only making a show of this poor man, who thought he had no other choice. And he didn’t, not really. If you crossed the President, you would most likely end up dead. While the others attended the public slaughter of the man, you and Loki stayed behind. You couldn’t watch another human lose his life, and Loki stayed behind to comfort you.

Emotions boiled over, and Loki made love to you. President Loki noticed that the two of you were missing, so he sent one of his lackeys to look for you. When the man found you, it was obvious what you had been doing. You were both naked, lying together on Loki’s cot. The man yelled for the others who came rushing in to gawk at you. You tried to cover yourself, but they grabbed you.

When President Loki saw you, he sent you to the dungeon area where he held prisoners. You didn’t know if it had been hours or a few days when someone came to get you. You were worried sick about Loki. You knew he was probably long dead by now or tortured almost to death. So, you were surprised when you were brought out in front of the others and there Loki stood, seemingly unharmed. "Why did you sleep with him when you belong to me?" The President asks as soon as you enter the room. "I love him." You lower your head, scared of what he will do to you. "Love? You would die for love?" He asks, gesturing for his men to bring you closer.

President Loki sat on his throne, pants down low enough for his cock to be on display. You were forced to your knees in front of him. "I will decide your fate later, you will receive your first punishment now." His hand collects your hair in a makeshift ponytail, bringing your face down toward him. You try to ease him in, jaw stretching to accommodate him. He doesn’t let you adjust; he thrusts forward hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, a moan escaping his lips as he fucks your mouth. Tears stream down your cheeks, falling onto his thighs and green pants.

He laughs cruelly above you, loving your punishment. He keeps a steady rhythm, while you try to slacken your jaw and just take it. Finally, he pulls you off him, only to place you in his lap. Your back is against his chest as he lowers you onto him. His henchmen hold Loki's head forcing him to watch. Your breasts bounce as President Loki, slams you on his cock. You wait for the stinging to subside, but it doesn't.

You can't get wet like this; all his men's greedy eyes are on your trembling body, your lover watching as you have sex with your cruel master. The President knows your body by now, he's had you long enough. His thumb rolls over your clit, and your body starts to betray you. Arousal soaks his cock, his thumb moves faster and the moan that escapes you sounds foreign. "That's it, my little slut loves being punished in front of everyone. Doesn't she?"

You don't answer, ashamed that you are starting to enjoy it. A few seconds pass, when he realizes that you aren't going to respond, his hand leaves your hip to grip your chin. He jerks your face toward him, your eyes meeting his cold blue stare. "I will not repeat myself." He releases your face, now tingling where his fingers were. "Yes, I love it!" You answer as he sets a more brutal pace.

"Good girl" His fingers grip your hip harder. "Now look at him and tell him how much better I am, how you could only be satisfied by me alone." A tear slips down your cheek when you see Loki, looking defeated, his eyes on you. "I-" You start, throat constricting from holding back your sobs. "If you want to save his pathetic life, you will tell him." President Loki sneers, rough thumb swirling against you.

"You could never make me feel like this." Tears stream down your face onto your chest. President Loki waits for you to speak again. "I'll only want President Loki for the rest of my life. What we did was a mistake. You could never compare to him." You sob as the lies leave your lips.

President Loki bites your neck, thrusting upward and fingers dragging over your clit. He spills inside you, causing your orgasm to hit you out of nowhere, body shaking against him. When the last waves of pleasure subside, he leans forward, arms wrapping around you. "Tell him you don't love him. I better believe it." He commands. You didn't think you would ever stop crying.

You look at Loki, his eyes shining with tears he hadn't shed. You take a deep breath, using every ounce of courage you have to do what you have to. "I don't love you. I could never love you." You say so clearly, you shock yourself. A single tear flows across Loki's chiseled jaw. You can tell by the look he gives you; he forgives you. You had to do it. President Loki smiles, "Prepare him for public execution immediately. Chain her up, so she has to watch." "NO!" You cry, as he knocks you off his lap to the floor. "Let this be a lesson to all, never touch what belongs to me."

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[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Marrying Thor but being in love with Loki. Have her go to Loki’s room at wedding night so he can finish what his brother failed to…if yu know what i mean

Old work I dug from my wip, I hope you enjoy it <3

Warnings: 18+, smut, infidelity, oral (f receiving)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Sometimes, life doesn’t go according to plan. Sometimes, it rains and you have to wear a cloak over the pretty dress you wanted to wear that day. Sometimes, you get a terrible headache and have to go to bed early. Sometimes, for political reasons, you have to put duty before heart matters.

One is the heir to the throne, the future king…and the other one is the king of your heart.

Your father had forged this arrangement with Odin in secret, with hopes of uniting realms. Though such alliances through marriage were nothing new, neither you nor Thor had been consulted beforehand. You were quick to voice your displeasure to your respective parents, but they didn’t care. You and Thor were going to marry. 

Your future husband didn’t care too much. Duty was duty. 

Loki, however, had a different perspective. When the news of the marriage got to his ears, he was furious. 

He didn’t show up to the marriage, which was expected and better that way. No one wants to see the person they love marrying another. 

After the ceremony, you snuck out of Thor’s quarters and ventured to Loki’s. You were mindful of the guards all around the palace, knowing that if you were seen there would be consequences. 

You knocked on his door, your fist delicate against the thick wood. You could hear some shuffling, followed by footsteps coming to the door. He was out of his day clothes and wearing a dark green soft, silk shirt and lounge pants. 

The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk when he saw you in your delicate robe and hair undone, cascading down your back in loose waves caused by your wedding hairstyle. ‘’What do we have here? The future queen of Asgard sneaking from her dear husband’s bed on her wedding night. Marital troubles already?’’ 

You fought the envy to roll your eyes at his remark. ‘’I braved the guards to see you, don’t leaving me standing in the corridor.’’

Loki stepped aside and you walked in, closing the door behind you. Inside, everything looked the same as it always did; the bed was perfectly made, the thick curtains were shut and shielding the room from the glow of the moon, and the desk was stacked with parchment papers and bits of used charcoal.  

‘’Don’t you have better things to do than clandestinely visit your dear husband’s brother in the middle of the night?’’ Loki's voice was laced with a bitter edge as he spoke, his back turned to you as he walked back to the velvet green couch he was sitting on before you interrupted his reading.

You couldn't help but respond with a touch of sarcasm, trying to break through the tension that hung in the room. ‘’Like listening to Thor’s snores that could make a trumpet sound quiet?’’  

You walked over to the couch and took a seat beside him with your back against the cushioned armrest. It wasn’t very lady-like to sit with your feet on the couch, but no one was there to scold you. The red silk of your robe contrasted with the jewel tone of the couch, a silent reminder that you shouldn’t be there. Red was Thor’s color. 

‘’How was the bedding ceremony?’’ The prince set the book he was reading on the table, his head turned from you to hide how he truly felt about the thought of you and Thor having sex. 

Shifting uncomfortably, you casted your eyes down. ‘’Can we not talk about that—’’ 

Loki ghosted his hand slowly up your ankle, shin, then stopped right below your knee. ‘’Does he touch you like I do?’’ 

The answer was easy. 

You wouldn’t call Thor selfish, but when it came to sex, his performances weren’t what you would expect from a god. The rumors were true, even a good dick doesn’t guarantee you good sex. No foreplay or any kind of fun, just plain old missionary…for five minutes. The liters of Asgardian Ale he had drank during the wedding celebration were possible to blame for that terrible experience. Hopefully it won’t always be like that. 

With Loki, sex was completely different. He knew your body like the back of his hand, the exact ways that had your back aching and screaming. And there was a connection that just wasn't there with Thor.

You shook your head. 

Loki laughed, genuinely amused from hearing of his brother's incompetence. ‘’You have no idea how hilarious it is. Thor, the mighty God of Thunder and heir to the throne, failed to satisfy his wife on his wedding night.’’ 

‘’I knew it would amuse you. Knowing there’s something you’re more skilled at than him.’’ 

A sly smirk played on the prince’s lips, flattered by your compliment. ‘’Tell me more.’’ 

 ‘’Don’t be greedy.’’ Your eyes longed on him, how beautiful he looked in the glow of the lamp.  

‘’Me?’’ Loki leaned back on the couch, his eyes gleaming mischievously in the dim light. ‘’The only thing I’m greedy for is sitting right in front of me and wearing a color that’s far too overpowering for her complexion.’’ 

His words only strengthened your guilt for taking the hand of a man you didn't love. It was killing you inside to know you'll never get to hold Loki's hand arm in the gardens or kiss him in front of the inhabitants of Asgard.

Turning a blind eye to your new marital status, you let your fingers glide down along the lapel of your robe, and traced teasingly the seam of your belt-tie. ‘’Shall I take it off?’’ you said in a near whisper.

‘’And what of your new husband?’’

‘’He’s sleeping until morning.’’ You pulled at the belt-tie and undid the knot, letting the silk slowly fall and expose your breasts. 

A silent growl caught in Loki's throat. He's mouthed and worshiped those so many times, yet he was still in awe every time you undressed. 

Without withdrawing his eyes from you, he made the robe vanish with a snap of his fingers, leaving you completely bare on his emerald green couch. ‘’Green looks better on you.’’ He delicately grabbed your ankles, and spread your legs before crawling between them. 

A sigh left your lips when he kissed the insides of your thighs, giving attention to what had been neglected in Thor’s quarters. Loki was right, no man touched you like he did. He looked up at you as he kissed higher and higher on your skin, making the situation more sensual. You bit down your lip when he 

placed a loving kiss against your sensitive clit, and grip his dark curls as his tongue swirled and suckled your sensitive bud. 

‘’Ahh, Loki!’’ 

His name was the only one on your tongue, echoing through the wall of his bed chamber and down the corridor.

—

Marvel taglist: @xenasolos @chrizzierbsstuff @ayamenimthiriel @alina02 @turtleshavesoulmates @staygoldsquatchling02 @daemonslittlebitch  @wetwilliam02 @haileyismoo @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @mxxny-lupin  @sweeterheartxamerica @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @arunaposeidondottie @liidiaaag @katsukis1wife  @amithesimpoffandoms @acornacreacure @chaotic-fangirl-blog  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @youdontneedtoknowthisinformation  @aabananaa @starrrslove  @angeliod @nmedina8611 @1stevelacyfan  @yourfavdummy @laylasbunbunny  @slytherhoes @pedrosprincess  @luvvtxinityy @Eddiefrickenmunson @wandaswigglywoos @mikaelsonsstuff  @tcddszn  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous  @popeheywardssecretgf @kattybug @loverofdrewstarkey  @sl4sh3rfuck3r  @luci1fer @dingus0401  @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @t-candy  @adaydreamaway08  @johannelis2302nely  @lynbubble @straberryshortcake143 @mymultiveres @hopeurokays @not-liah @beth-gallagher22  @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336 @arinexeisnotworking  @rubyliquor @Danniackerman  @angelxxrose @angelxxrose  @upwritingallnight  @cruzgrecia @evelestrange  @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe  @hoeforsirius  @secretsthathauntus  @sarcasm-and-stiles @buckyswhxre  @niktwazny303

All and more taglist:  @kenqki  @hawkegfs  @gillybear17   @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade   @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3   @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs  @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis  @katherinejess  @rafesgirlstuff  @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

[oswildin]

Fate (Loki x Witch!Reader)

Summary: You’re a witch who has been visiting Loki, but he doesn’t know your intentions, nor whether you are even real… But talk about fate and his place in the universe, leaves him with more questions than answers. Set around the time of Thor The Dark World, before Frigga’s death and references the events of Disney+ Loki series.

Rating: PG/All Ages

A/N: Reader has GN pronouns/no descriptors or name, but is described as a witch. Inspired by my pov on TikTok, which is inspired by Alys & Daemon from HOTD.

LOKI MASTERLIST

The crowd cheered and clapped, utterly delighted and enthused by their new King. He was their leader, their ruler, their light in the darkness… And they adored him. They saw him as worthy of his place upon the throne, accepted him completely without resistance… He basked in the golden light that was shining on him, arms spread wide in pride and acceptance of their adoration.

It was everything—

“—you have always wanted… isn’t it?”

The voice broke him from his celebration, his glory… His arms lowered, the royal rouge cape around his neck suddenly feeling weightier. His shoulders sagged, the victorious smile that he had been moments ago fading from his face.

“I see Sif… The Warriors Three…” The voice continued, light yet holding a weight which only seemed to make the cape draped around him feel heavier somehow. “Faces of those you do not know the names of…”

He let out a breath, his back remaining to the one had interrupted his glorious moment.

“And yet… I see no one of great importance to you.”

Green shimmer fell over the crowd that had been cheering before him, each nameless face disappearing, each voice ceasing as the illusion faded. The weight of the illusionary cape also dissipated as it shimmered away from his shoulders, the golden hue of the throne room returning to his reality.

A cell.

Loki’s jaw tightened, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out of the golden barrier that kept him from the outside world, more inmates entering Odin’s prison to be locked away.

“Don’t you find it strange?” The voice continued, a feigned curiosity in their tone. Loki slowly turned on his heel, his cyan eyes finally landing on the figure of the voice… The figure who had been visiting him as of late. He did not know who they were, or why they were there… He didn’t even know if they were real or merely another illusion.

Your eyes held Loki’s, unwavering, standing in the middle of his white walled cell. A faint smirk tugged at your lip, almost indiscernible as you took a small step closer. He had yet to say a word.

“How those who you regard as family are no where to be seen?” You pressed, probed, watching his reaction closely. Loki paced leisurely towards the chair in his cell before coming to a stop behind it, his hands moving to rest upon the back of the chair. His body leaned forwards, the chair supporting some of his weight as he narrowed his eyes, tilting his head faintly.

“It’s your illusion, is it not?” You asked, raising a brow, a slight shrug. “And yet you did not conjure them in it.”

“They do not matter.” He finally spoke, voice low yet holding an edge of lightness in it to match the dismissal of his words.

“No?”

“No.”

You hummed thoughtfully, letting out a breath, turning away from him to let your eyes wander over what items he was permitted in his cell - books, a small ornate table, a cot… You moved to the table, finding a book on its surface as you reached to gently pick it up, eyeing it.

Tangible.

Loki’s brows twitched slightly, lips pursing. Pushing himself from the chair, he once more began slowly pacing, not from restlessness but intrigue.

“You are a liar.” You stated simply, making Loki let out a huff of sardonic laughter.

“Am I supposed to be impressed by that observation?” He raised a brow, a hint of wryness to his words. “It’s a statement that quite a few have expressed about me.”

“I mean, you are lying to yourself.”

You let the book drop back to the table with a slight thud, Loki’s amusement quickly turning into irritation, observing as you glanced at him over your shoulder. A breathy laugh left your lips at the spark of anger in his eyes.

“Your anger blinds you.” You stated, making Loki shake his head slightly. “You let it control you.”

“It guides me.” He argued.

“Your actions say otherwise…” You sighed, moving to the chair he had just been stood by, lowering yourself to take a seat.

“My actions?” Loki repeated, a hint of disbelief. “I was merely giving truth-“ He continued lowly, his steps changing direction to stalk towards you. “-to the lie I have been fed my entire life…” He stopped before you, his sharp gaze boring into your unfazed eyes. “That I was born to be a King.”

You leaned back in the chair, elbows resting on its arms, casual - leisurely almost. It made Loki’s jaw twitch. “Perhaps those who strive for the crown are the least suited to wear it-“

“Do not lecture me.” Loki’s sharp tone cut you off, a dangerous edge to his voice. It was a warning. Maybe even a plea. You remained unbothered, looking up at him as his tall figure cast a long shadow over you. Silence fell between you, the faint hum of the golden barrier filling the space as you held one another’s gazes, almost daring the other to look away first.

“It is not a prize to be won…” You murmured. “But a burden to bear.” A pause. “You know this.”

Loki made a sound of frustration, eyes fluttering as his head snapped away, turning sharply on his heel to pace once again. You straightened in the chair, leaning forwards slightly as you watched him.

“I love Thor more dearly than any of you, but you know what he is.”

Loki’s steps halted, his posture tensing as he heard his own voice fill the space, words he had once spoken. His back remained turned towards you, his hands clenching at his sides.

“He's arrogant, he's reckless, he's dangerous! You saw how he was today. Is that what Asgard needs from its King?”

The question Loki had once uttered echoed slightly around the cell, almost taunting him. It was then he slowly, almost reluctantly, turned to look at you, seeing you now stood. You were approaching him, your expression unreadable. “Dangerous…” You breathed out, furrowing your brows. “And yet, that is what you sought to be during your time on Midgard…” Loki released an audible breath, his chest heaving slightly. “All because you desired a throne… Correct?”

Loki’s eyes searched yours, hearing the doubt in your voice. It was like you could see right through him, and he disliked it. He loathed it. It unsettled him in a way he hadn’t felt before. And the worst part was… You were right. You knew it was more than his so-called desire for a throne… It was about him wanting to be seen as worthy, to step out from the shadow he had been shrouded in, to avoid the consequences of failing Thanos…

“All your life… you have sought to command your own fate…” You spoke, almost softly, barely above a whisper, now stood right before him. Loki remained silent again. “But you… you are piece on the board…” Your hand slowly raised, tentative. Loki watched it cautiously, a faint sheen in his eyes as he blinked. “As am I…” Your fingers made contact with the skin of his cheek, light but…

Tangible.

Real.

Loki released a breath, unable to understand your reasons, your intent.

“There are things in this universe that are older than you or I…” You continued quietly, your eyes flickering over his features. “Stories and roles at play that we are not able to see or fathom.”

“And what is my place in all of it?” The words left Loki in a whisper, the touch of your fingers on his cheek somehow comforting. He had been alone for nearly a year, besides his mother’s illusionary visits… Unable to touch, to be held. A small, almost solemn smile tugged at your lips.

“Your place…” You raised your chin faintly. “Is not now, but in the past.” Loki’s brows furrowed at your words, they didn’t make much sense. They felt deliberately cryptic and vague, but… truthful. “And that past is the present… And the future.”

Loki’s hand moved quick, his fingers wrapping around your wrist of the hand that was touching his face, his grip firm but gentle. You took a breath, eyes flickering to his hand around your wrist.

“Speak plainly.” He demanded, his tone softer than he had intended.

“I do.” You whispered. Loki’s grip tightened ever so slightly, not to cause fear or pain, but almost in desperation to understand.

“Your birthright… was to die!”

Loki’s grip faltered as Odin’s words echoed in the cell, words his father had spoken to him so coldly and cruelly… Right before he was thrown in his cell… Alone.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

It was his voice. But not words he could recount ever saying. At least… not aloud. His breath caught, his hand pulling away from your wrist as if you had scalded him, the tears now evident in his gaze as he took a stumbling step back. His lips were parted, brows creasing in a mix of anger and confusion.

“Witch.” He breathed out, but unlike most who uttered the word, there was no malice. Your hand remained in the air a second longer before dropping to your side, blinking.

“I’m afraid so.” You smirked faintly, wry.

Loki shook his head, hand moving to run through his raven hair, willing his composure to return. “They do not see you.” He stated, glancing out towards the passing Einherjar who were doing their patrol.

“They do not.” You confirmed, nodding once. “You are no stranger to magic.” You raised a brow. “You know it’s a simple spell.”

Loki huffed out a wry sound, closing his eyes as he turned away from you again. “Your path is set.” You spoke again, voice resolute yet holding a hint of sympathy. “And I am sorry.” You whispered, making Loki frown. “But all paths must come to an end.”

Your words hung in the air between you, Loki processing its cryptic nature, a shiver going down his spine. It sounded like a promise. But one that you seemed to be regretting having to make.

No.

Loki spun on his heel, lips parted as he went to reply, to deny his fate, but as his gaze fell to the spot you had been stood in, he found it empty. You were gone. Without a trace. Or so he thought. His eyes dropped to the book you had picked up earlier on the ornate table, brows furrowing as he noticed the cover had changed. Tentatively, he approached it, eyes fixed on the book. Leaning down, his slender fingers grasped the book, picking it up as he took in the cover.

Yggdrasil.

He let out a breath, unsure of what it meant, eyes flickering around his cell to search for any sign of you. But nothing. Questions. He had so many. But he felt he knew you wouldn’t give them so easily anyway. And so, all he could do… was wait. Let his mind go over your words. As he looked back down at the book, he found it had returned to its original state, the leather no longer holding a carving of Yggdrasil.

Witch, indeed.

[storiesforallfandoms]

Masterlist 3!

Here’s the third masterlist for all of my works! If you want to check out more of my work, here’s the links for masterlist one and masterlist two Imagines marked * are smutty imagines! Imagines marked ` are requests! Imagines marked ⭐ are personal favorites!

IMAGINES

STRANGER THINGS small ~ jim hopper` dance with me ~ eddie munson ⭐ starry night ~ steve harrington* (part five) ⭐ at the hip ~ steve harrington` ⭐ triple date ~ steve harrington (part six) ⭐ the freak ~ steve harrington (part seven) ⭐ oblivious ~ eddie munson ⭐ jason doesn’t know ~ eddie munson ⭐ this is music ~ eddie munson` ⭐

SUPERNATURAL strange human feelings ~ castiel` cleaning ~ dean winchester`

HANNIBAL into fiction` sob story ~ hannibal lecter

THE BOYS obsession ~ billy butcher* ⭐ herogasm ~ soldier boy* ⭐ alone on christmas ~ billy butcher can’t get too close ~ billy butcher ⭐ change in a heartbeat ~ billy butcher ⭐ the bad room ~ homelander ⭐

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY life father ~ diego hargreeves` rescue mission ~ klaus hargreeves’ ⭐

THE LAST OF US (HBO) friendly neighbors ~ joel miller ⭐ too sweet ~ joel miller

BARRY attraction ~ barry berkman` treat him better ~ barry berkman

AMERICAN HORROR STORY late night sins ~ xavier plympton (1984)*`

VICTORIOUS lost dog ~ tori vega` junker ~ beck oliver

HEMLOCK GROVE i don’t ever wanna see you with him ~ roman godfrey ⭐

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES roses are red ~ damon salvatore` ⭐

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH captive ~ blackbeard/ed teach ⭐

PEAKY BLINDERS moved on ~ thomas shelby

FUTURE MAN winner ~ josh futturman* ⭐

GAME OF THRONES littlest lion ~ oberyn martell (part one) ⭐ freedom ~ oberyn martell (part two) ⭐

THE WITCHER destiny ~ geralt of rivia

DOCTOR WHO looks of a princess ~ eleventh doctor ⭐

BRIDGERTON by the lake ~ benedict bridgerton

THE GENTLEMEN the assistant ~ raymond smith ⭐

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN spirit of nature ~ jack sparrow`

THE MAZE RUNNER i’ll keep you safe ~ newt`

MARVEL how things are now ~ marc spector and steven grant` ⭐ kneel ~ loki* the most wonderful time ~ bucky barnes fast ~ pietro maximoff ⭐

1917 early morning ~ will schofield*`

THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT happy birthday ~ javi gutierrez ⭐

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY’S i need someone older ~ william afton ⭐ the ice cream girl ~ mike schmidt

SALTBURN new toy ~ felix catton ⭐ partners ~ oliver quick ⭐

THE SANTA CLAUSE santa’s sister-in-law ~ bernard the elf

8 MILE one of the guys ~ jimmy smith jr ⭐

THE FALL GUY the space cowboy and the pa ~ tom ryder

A QUIET PLACE i’d find you in any life ~ eric ⭐

GLADIATOR II betrothed ~ emperor geta ⭐

PETE DAVIDSON your gift` favoritism`

HARRY STYLES the perfect tree a star in the making` sleepy head`

MACHINE GUN KELLY baby mama` ⭐ my queen*` getting your attention*` all the mistakes` not what it looks like` can’t keep doing this*`

EMINEM may the best artist win*` too close for comfort` ⭐ when it’s wrong but it feels right` in the dressing room*` he’s acting different` we have to stop meeting like this` every inch*` let’s surprise the world` i’m sorry i let you down`

GOODGUYFITZ wake up call*`

CORPSE HUSBAND letting go` they forgot` ⭐

ASHTON IRWIN home life` cover me*`

CONAN GRAY pushing`

MATTHEW LILLARD accidental drunk confessions`

JOHNNY KNOXVILLE feeling good*`

ALEX TURNER more than a song*` ⭐

BO BURNHAM can’t handle this right now ⭐ look at me*`

KRISTEN STEWART special customer`

TARON EGERTON he already has my approval ⭐

ROBERT PATTINSON my favorite superhero

GERARD WAY good girl*`

GWILYM LEE history repeats itself`

RYAN GOSLING play date`

JOSEPH QUINN bad idea, right? ⭐

RANBOO fluffy haired gamer boy`

JACOB ELORDI height advantage`

MOTLEY CRUE she is mine ~ mick mars`

CHRIS EVANS not used to normal` ⭐

SWAGGERSOULS our next step`

JSCHLATT too far ⭐ the hotel room* ⭐

JOHNNY DEPP just for us`

TRAVIS BARKER the parent trap`

SHIPS

family reunion ~ hermione granger x draco malfoy`

HEADCANONS

showing pedro pascal fan edits ⭐ sitting on jschlatt’s lap ⭐

NSFW ALPHABET

rook (jp capellette)*` eddie munson* ⭐ billy butcher* ⭐

[acciotherapists]

For All Time

For everyone saddened by the ending of season 2, here is a little ficlet (just a little over 500 words) to hopefully heal the ache. Spoilers for Season 2 below the cut. Read with caution!

Note: This was written in 10 minutes while at work so ignore any mistakes. I simply had to get this out.

TVA!Loki x reader

I watched as Loki reignited the timelines, saving them from destruction.

“He’s giving us a chance,” Sylvie said and my eyes widened as the earth split open in front of Loki.

“No…” I murmured, realizing what this would mean. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as tears slipped down my cheeks. I swallowed thickly, watching as Loki dragged the timelines up the stairs, toward the opening in space. Before I could even move Mobius had wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Don’t do it. He wouldn’t want you to do it.”

He already knew what I was thinking; I had to get to Loki. I struggled in his grip as Loki reached the top of the stairs and disappeared into the void, closing the portal behind him.

I collapsed and Mobius held me up, tears streaming down my face as I stared at the emptiness in front of us. “No… please, no.”

“Y/n, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” Mobius whispered, holding me up as I sobbed.

“No!” I yelled, pushing away from him. There was a flash of light and I turned to see the Yggdrasil in front of us, the timelines woven together.

“We failed him, Mobius… we were supposed to figure it out.”

“I know, Y/n… but it was too complicated. We tried everything possible… and Loki knew that. That’s why he did what he did.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way.”

He said nothing and simply looked at the tree, a sad smile on his face.

“What if you prune me?” 

B-15 shook her head. “It wouldn’t work. You’d only end up in the void and I’m guessing the creature you told us about is still there. Chances are you’d run into Ravonna or Alioth before you found Loki.”

“I have to do something! He’s all alone!”

“He doesn’t have to be.”

I turned to Sylvie. “What?”

“We can’t prune you… but I have something better.” I watched as she took Kang’s Time-Twister from her wrist and walked toward me. “He sacrificed everything to save us… he deserves better… he deserves you.” She grabbed my hand and placed the device around my wrist. “Go find him.” She smiled, hugging me and wiping away my tears. “Tell him we said thank you.”

I nodded, unsure of what to say. “Thank you, Sylvie.”

She nodded and grabbed a nearby tempad, leaving the TVA behind.

Mobius nodded, smiling. “Go get him.”

B-15 hugged me, saying goodbye, and I created a time-door to where I knew Loki would be waiting. The end of time.

When I stepped through the door I was surrounded by timelines, floating around me. I gently moved them aside until I reached Loki. He was sitting on a golden throne, holding the timelines together, and his eyes filled with tears as they found mine.

“Darling, w-what are you doing here? How-?”

“Sylvie… she gave me this.” I showed him the device that allowed me to find him and he smiled. I walked toward him and sat on his lap, resting my face against his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, my love… I… I have to hold the timelines. I-.”

I stopped him. “I didn’t come here for you to comfort me, Loki. I came to comfort you. I didn’t want you to be alone. I know you can’t hug me back but I want you to know I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here."

He smiled down at me. “For all time?”

“Always.”

[sparrow-the-tired-lesbian]

Loki’s sacrifice wasn’t for any one person

I’m just about finished seeing people say “Loki sacrificed his own happiness so Sylvie could be happy!!!” bitch no

lemme tell you why that’s bullshit

Loki saw that if he didn’t do what he did, then the entire fucking multiverse would die

unimaginable amounts of people, unimaginable amounts of branches, all gone. Dead. Outtie 5000.

when he said “I know what kind of god I need to be” he didn’t just look at Sylvie and go “for you”

he looked at both Sylvie AND Mobius, then followed it up with “for all of us” so we all know he wasn’t saying that he was doing it for just one of them

then in the aftermath, as I’m sure Loki can see from their throne, Sylvie is happier than ever. She didn’t want Loki in the first place, and was constantly trying to get away from him. That’s reason enough to say he didn’t do it for her, and isn’t continuing to do it for her, because she doesn’t even care that he’s suffering.

Y’all know I’m a Lokius shipper, but I don’t even think Loki did it for him, either.

Mobius is suffering because he feels alone without Loki, and is afraid that Loki, too, feels alone. So again, Loki isn’t doing it for him, or continuing to do it for him. It aches to see his friend (and possibly lover) aching the way he does.

no, Loki did it and continues to do it because of the INFINITE AMOUNTS OF PEOPLE THAT WOULDVE DIED IF THEY DIDNT, NOT TO MENTION THEIR FRIENDS.

this isn’t about fucking romance. This is about saving the multiverse and protecting those they hold dear, even from far away.

[worstloki]

While I do feel Thor should have insecurities about Frigga preferring the adopted son over himself it’s a given presumption that his involvement with Odin overshadows that largely enough for it to not be mentioned much. But it shouldn’t be unless Thor doesn’t respect his mother at all.

[fandomnsfw]

The HalfBreed - Ragnar Lothbrok x Reader

Pairing: Ragnar Lothbrok x Reader

Prompt: a request from @alisha-jade

Warnings: smut, cheating (on Aslaug so is it really though), breeding kink, slight asphyxiation not much.

no beta again so spelling errors may occur feel free to message me if anything is too bad!

ENJOY!!

******

You stared in fascination as your father brought Ragnar and his group into the castle. They were a brash bunch but you couldn’t help your fascination as they began shouting and laughing at the fear in the Christian’s eyes. 

You peeked around the corner of the dining hall that was also the throne room. Suddenly your fathers eyes shot up to meet yours. He rolled his eyes and beckoned you out of hiding spot. 

You strolled over to him with grace only a princess could hold. Your red dress swaying slightly as you came to a stop. All the mens eyes were on you and a few were making crude jokes clearly not realising you spoke their language. 

“I think even in your villages it isn’t proper to talk about a princess like that. Am I wrong?” You spoke in there home tongue making them all pause even the beautiful blonde woman that was sat with them.

“You speak our language?” The blonde woman asked. 

“That is what happens when your a halfbreed. Right Father?” You spat at his kingdoms most frequent words for you. 

“Your part Viking?” Ragnar asked with an amused smile. 

“Yes my mother was a shield maiden. My father took an interest on many years ago when she was washed up on our shores.” You answered honestly as your father smiled at the memory of your mother. 

“I see.” The blonde woman chuckled as she watched Ragnar stare at you intently. 

“So which gods or god do you believe in?” A wide eyed, slender man asked his eyes narrowed in a glare. 

“I do not worship their false god if that is what you are asking.” You paused not knowing his name. 

“Floki.” He stated his eyes still narrowed like he didn’t believe you. 

“Hmm…You remind me of the god Loki.” You stated with a grin as his eyes widened. 

“I think he is Loki.” Ragnar whispered making me giggle which seemed to make the older man happy. 

“You must be Ragnar’s wife then. Lagertha?” You stated as you looked at the beautiful woman. 

“Ex-Wife.” She scoffed making you catch the smile that made it’s way to your lips. 

“I see. It doesn’t seem to matter where men are from. They are all brash and unfaithful bastards.” You snorted causing everyone to start laughing especially the shield maiden. 

“I like her.” Lagertha gave a pointed look to Ragnar who rolled his eyes. 

You nudged your father on his excessively large seat at the head of the table. He sighed but moved up so you could sit down next to him. 

You gave him a sweet smile which made him laugh before kissing your head softly. You were your fathers favourite and everyone knew that. Especially your brother who hated you with a passion. 

“So did your mother train you in anything else?” A big man with long wavy hair  asked carefully as he sipped his ale looking at Ragnar who nodded in interest. 

“If you asking if I could take your head off with a sword then the answer is yes. You are Rollo yes?” You asked softly making him clear his throat as he sat up straight.

“My father has told me a lot about your spree around England with Ragnar.” You commented making him nod quietly in response.

You father understood a little of their langue because you had taught him but instead of joining in he allowed you to socialise with your fellow pagan’s. 

Everyone ate and enjoyed each other company before finally your father rand Ragnar began talking about there deal. You rolled you eyes before blocking your father view of Ragnar. 

“I want to go with them.” You stated as he stared up at you with sad eyes. 

“Y/N my sweet rose you really want to leave your poor father?” He asked softly his sadness radiating through his small smile. 

“Father you have your successor and I shall visit when I can. I want to fight! I wanna fall in love with someone who believes what I do.” You sighed in your fathers home language making Ragnar look at you. 

“I understand child. I will see to it then…I love you my little rose.” He whispered the last part in your ear making you smile fondly and return his sentiment.

“Ragnar. I have another term for our deal, I ask you take my daughter with you when you return to your home. She wishes to be with her people.” Your father asked gently making Ragnar nod in understanding. 

“Princess Y/N wishes to come back to Kattegat with us.” Ragnar announced in his home tongue causing everyone to stop there chatter. 

“We are not taking another Christian home with us Ragnar.” A gruff man in the group scoffed and before anyone said anything there was a knife flying through the air straight passed his ear to the throne room door. 

He touched his ear to find in bleeding before standing up and starting towards you. You jumped up, lifting your skirt you could take out your other knife. He got in your face like he was about to beat you but you put your knife to his intimate area. 

“Do NOT call me a Christian. I will cut off your tiny little friend and feed it to my wolf.” You spat in his ear before he finally got the point and backed away.

“We will take her back.” You had expected Ragnar or maybe even Lagertha so say these words however you had not expected Floki to say it. 

“Thank you.” Your father said in their language so they’d all understand. 

******

You stared in amazement as you saw the village come into view as you absently petted your dark grey wolf. People were flocking to the docks waiting for there loved ones or congratulate people along you smile as you glanced at Ragnar who was staring at you.

“Is there something on my face Ragnar?” You chuckled making him smile.

“You are very beautiful.” He stated mischievously as he stepped closer.

“Don’t you have a wife waiting for you?” You replied teasingly.

“As my ex wife would say. That never stopped me before.” Ragnar chuckled as the boat pulled up.

“I see well maybe you should come visit me once I am settled.” You whispered in his ear before hopping of the boat with the help of Floki. You kissed Floki’s cheek before he bid you goodbye and rushed off your see his Helga.

“And who might you be?” A tall slender woman asked with a bright smile.

“You are dressed like a Christian yet our Floki does not treat you as such.” She added as Ragnar hopped off the boat following after you.

“This is my wife. Aslaug.” Ragnar introduced like he hadn’t just been trying to bed you.

“I see Lagertha has told me a lot about you.” You replied sweetly but she could sense the unsaid words that you did not like her.

“I see.” She muttered with a fake smile.

“Rollo said he would show me where I could stay so I will see you later Ragnar.” You said to the blue eyed man with a smirk on your face.

“Of course princess. I look forward to seeing you at the hall.” He chuckled, his hand brushing across your lower back as Rollo approached you.

Rollo grabbed your belongings hauling them up with ease as you stared at his muscles contracting. Viking men were built different and it honestly had your stomach clenching in need. These men could easily throw you about like you were a rag doll. 

You follow at his side as your wolf Shadow followed closely behind you, staring at people as we passed them. Everyone seemed wary of him but you ignored there looks and stroked his fur as you walked.

“I see my brother has taken an interest in you.” Rollo snorted as we approached a little hut.

“Hmm, perhaps but if I was to bed him the main reason would be because I don’t like his wife. I believe women who like to reck happy homes are witches that need a taste of their own medicine.” You chuckled making Rollo laugh whole heartedly.

“Your honestly is refreshing. You remind me of Lagertha back when she was your age.” He chuckled softly as he got a dreamy look in his eyes.

“You love her.” You stated softly as he lowered you belongs to the floor in the corner of the hut.

“Yes but she has never seen me like that. As long as I can fight with her I can accept that.” He sighed quietly making you smile.

“You’re a sweet man when you want to be Rollo. Maybe if you showed her this side she may change her mind. Women like Lagertha are independent and don’t need a man but that does not mean they don’t want one. Do you know her favourite food or drink?” You asked casually as you began to take your belongings out of the gold and wooden chest Rollo had brought in for you.

“Yes.” He answered curiously before sitting down on a bench that was in the hut.

“Well when we go to the great hall maybe bring her some food and a drink. Don’t say anything just sit next to her quietly maybe even converse with people around you.” You answered sweetly as you dug out your gold and jewels. 

“That seems a little simple.” He huffed with an eye roll.

“Women love when a man knows them. Think of it like Shadow my wolf would. When he wishes to mate he brings his female food and provides comfort for them.” You stated simply as you ran your finger through his fur.

“I see.” He nodded in understanding before glancing at your wolf.

“He seems rather large even for a wolf.”he commented as he stared at the giant dark grey wolf that came up to Rollo a waist meaning he was up to your shoulder.

“I know I have no idea why but I’ve had him since he was a pup. I found him in the woods when I was training. It was snowy and cold. His mother was dead next to him along with two other pups who were dead. They’d starved and then frozen by the looks of it but shadow was smart he caught a squirrel and then burrowed underneath his mother and sister. I buried his family and took him home.” You answered sweetly as Shadow nuzzled into your hand.

“He’s very loyal to you. Most wolves prefer to stay in their own territory but he happily followed you here.” Rollo added before he stood up causing the bench you were both sat on to rattle under you.

You let out a laugh making him roll his eyes once again before he set off to the great hall. You took your jewels and started towards a stall you’d seen on your way here that sold clothes. 

Once there you looked through the clothes before picking out a few things and asking the shop keeper how much. She stared at you with a frown before looking down at the gold with wide eyes.

“This is too much miss.” She stated as she tried to pass you it back.

“I know but I very much like your clothes and you work hard on them I can tell. Even my royal seamstress wasn’t that good.” You chuckled making her flush slightly as she gave you a nod.

“If you would like I could braid your hair for you after you change. You are going to the great hall for the celebration?” She offered kindly making you smile brightly.

You knew how to braid but not as well as the shield maidens so it was nice to have the offer which you gratefully took. She asked you what it was like to grow up around people in England and you asked her some tips on braiding it was pleasant and a lot different from any interactions you’d had with anyone in Wessex.

People may have not said much to your face as you are a princess but that didn’t stop you over hearing the horrible things people said behind your back.

You gave her your thanks and left the old dress with her telling her she could reuse it for whatever she wished. You collected Shadow from the hut before making your way to the Great hall with directions from a few people.

You opened the doors to the great hall your wolf at your side as everyone stared before Floki ran up to you with a childish giggle. He dragged you over to meet Helga who was sweet and very calm compared to her lover.

Rollo sat down next to you but not before passing Lagertha a drink of something and food. You smiled at the action as he engaged you in conversation. Lagertha looked shocked at the action but chose to eat her food and drink from her cup as she kept side eyeing Rollo.

“Well I’m glad you could make it Princess.” Ragnar’s voice stated behind you causing your wolf to growl as you jumped.

“Settle boy.” You whispered to him as he laid back down at your feet. 

“It appears your wolf does not like me.” He huffed playfully as he took a seat next to your other side. 

“Maybe he can sense you devious intentions Ragnar Lothbrok.” You giggled making him smile down at you, his ocean blue eyes shining with there usual mischief. 

“Would you like a tour of our lovely Kattegat?” He asks suddenly and his wife’s eyes found yours with a glare. 

“Hmm I would love to.” You answered sweetly, not taking your eyes off Aslaug. 

You stood up but as you wolf started to follow, you told him to stay making him whine. You rolled your eyes before pointing to Floki.

“Go sit with Floki.” You instructed and he glanced at the man before huffing and walking over to him. Floki stroked his fur as he waved at you to go. 

You were walking beside Ragnar for a few minutes before he moved slightly closer his arm brushing against yours. The white long sleeved dressed was comfortable in the slightly nicer weather Kattegat was experiencing. The dark brown detail down the front was pretty and you were happy to not be wearing the heavy dresses you’d worn as a princess. 

“You seem to be fitting in very well.” Ragnar spoke suddenly causing you to jolt a little.

“Everyone is nice here. It makes a difference from how people treat me in Wessex.” You chuckled as you looked at the small beach in front of you. 

“You were a Princess, how badly could they of treat you.” Ragnar asked sceptically. 

“Men were disgusted by me. Women were afraid of me. To my face they would acted accordingly however I overheard a few things they would say about me behind the kings back…behind mine. They would call me a witch,  say the only bride I could ever be was Satans which by the way is an angel that was kicked out of his heaven and banished to run hell, which is full of demons and people that have sinned.” You rolled your eyes making Ragnar laugh wholeheartedly. 

“Yes Athelstan told me much about Christianity. I believe everyone should worship who they want. I believe in my gods and Athelstan believes in his one god. We are friends despite that.” Ragnar replied with honesty his face serious as he looked down at his boots.

“I believe the same.” You replied softly as you took off your boots before stepping onto the sand with your bare feet.

Ragnar followed your lead, taking off his shoes before stepping onto the sand. He caught up to you his hand coming to rest on your lower back as you contrived strolling, watching the sea. 

His hand felt warm on your lower back, as his eyes gazed at you. You could feel it as it sent shivers down your spine. He shifted a little closer to you, his hand curling around your hip before pulling him close. 

You were pressed against his side as you finally stopped moving down the beach. You could feel his eyes on you as if trying to see your reactions to his sudden closeness.

“Do you love your wife Ragnar?” You suddenly asked making his eye widen though his hands did not move from your hips they weren’t gripping so tightly.

“I thought I did however I think I love that she has given me many sons.” He answered honestly his eyes staring into the darkness that covered the sea.

“I see.” You replied with a small smile.

“I could make you my second wife but I tried that with Lagertha and she left me.” Ragnar sighed softly making you smile.

“I am not surprised Ragnar I would’ve have left too. I have no desire to be your wife Ragnar. If you would like to take me back to my hut and fuck me though, I could definitely agree to that.” You whispered seductively before walking ahead of him towards your hut.

The walk wasn’t long and once the door closed to your hut Ragnar was on you. His right hand tangled in your hair, his lips were on yours as his left hand grabbed your waist pulling your closer.

His tongue stroked across yours gently yet passionately causing you to moan into his mouth his hands immediately trying to rip off your dress. You’d slapped his hands, pulling away from his lips with a grin. 

“Do not rip my new dress Ragnar.” You chuckled softly as you untied the brown leather belt and let it fall to the floor before lifting the white dress over your head and putting it on your chest. 

Ragnar took in your naked form appreciatively as he began stripping. His body was covered with a light amount of hair and muscle definition that you’d never seen on the English men you’d slept with. 

He was built like a beast and it made you clench around nothing, dampness making its way down your thighs. He finally stripped and was back on you, his hands immediately reaching for the back of your thighs to lift you up and laying you on the cold wooden table behind you.

His lips pressed wet, harsh kisses down your sternum nipping at the skin occasionally. Your soft pants and moans filling the air as you stared down at his very clearly hard member. He was big, bigger than you’d had before. 

Ragnar kissed your hip bone before nipping at it the sensation causing a shiver to run down your spine and a deep sultry moan to erupt from your chest. He glanced up at you with a smirk before he continued his path. 

When his lips pressed a kiss right above your slit you were desperate making you thrust upwards to try to get any kind of friction you could. However Ragnar decided hat wasn’t acceptable and slapped the inside of your thigh causing a shocking amount of pleasure.

“Stay still. Naughty girl.” He scolded softly before looking up to see your reaction to his slap. 

You flushed under his gaze as you avoided his eyes. Was that normal? To react like that to being slapped, you thought anxiously. Ragnar’s hands grabbed your hips tightly before he flipped you over so you were bent over the table. 

Before you could question it his hand came down on your ass the sound ringing through the hut. You whimpered, spreading your legs a little so you could push backwards, rubbing against his member. 

“Dirty girl.” Was all Ragnar said before thrusting two fingers inside of your warm wet heat with no warning. 

You let out a startled moan before pushing back onto his fingers eagerly. His free hand massaged the ass cheek he’d just slapped before delivering another one making you moan desperately against him. 

“Ragnar!” You moaned loudly as his fingers started hitting inside you at a different angle causing you to dig your nails into the table beneath you. 

“W-What is that?” You whined softly, trying to push back against his finger.

“I don’t know but I like to call it the magic button.” Ragnar chuckled before thrusting into that spot again. 

“Oh fuck.” 

Your moans were getting louder as they filled the hut, your stomach tensing as it prepared to unravel that amazing feeling you’d only had once or twice. Ragnar’s fingers sped up as he continued his assault on that magic button. 

“Cum for me sweet girl.” Ragnar whispered before his tongue was on your hooded bundle of nerves. 

The angle was awkward for Ragnar it he didn’t care as his tongue lavished you, his finger still never stopping. You clenched around them as his hand came down once against to slap your left ass cheek.

“Oh fuck Ragnar!” You screamed as you finally came around his fingers, your face pressed against the table as you hair splayed messily around you some of it over your face.

“You taste addictive.” He mumbled against you, giving you one last long lick before pulling away from your heat with a wicked smile on his face. 

“You ready my little vixen.” He whispered as he bent over you, his lips tickling against your ear. 

“Mhmm. You gonna fill me up Ragnar? Want you to.” You moaned, your tone needy but quiet. 

Suddenly he thrust into you with no warning just like he had with hi fingers before, causing you to push your back against his naked chest as you pushed him so far in your swore your felt him in your stomach. Your hands gripped his hands that were clutching your hips in an almost painful grip.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you. Want me to fill you up with my seed? Hmm fuck you so good and full.” He growled in your ear one of his hand coming up to wrap around your throat, not quite squeezing it just resting there. 

You felt so dazed from your previous orgasm and his words all you could do was nod to his teasing question. His hand squeezed softly as he continued fucking you slowly but hard. 

“Ah ah. Use yours words sweet girl.” He scolded his hand around your throat tightening again so most of your air supply was gone. 

You should’ve been scared but it only served to bring you closer to anther orgasm. You turned you face to look him in the eyes as you finally opened your mouth to speak. He released his grip but never moved his hand as he stared at you expectantly. 

“Want you to fill me up. Fuck me full with your babies.” You moaned, your head leaning against his collarbone. 

“Fuck. I have many sons. You gonna give me more darling?” He asked as his thrusting started getting faster and more rough.

“You gonna drop everything when I’m big and fat to fuck me when I need your cock?” You moaned as you threw your arm up to grasp at his hair as his tightened around your throat again. 

“I’d drop everything to fuck your pretty little flower sweetheart. Mmm you feel so good can wait until your pregnant and desperate for me all the time.” He groaned against your neck his hand on your hip coming around to wrap around your waist tightly as he began pounding into you at an animalistic pace. 

“Oh fuck! Yes!” You screamed loudly as you felt yourself clenching round him as you felt yourself at the edge once again.

His cock was drilling into that special spot that made you see stars, his thrusting becoming less calculated as he neared his end too. You tugged at his braided hair moaning his name as he tightened his grip on your throat and waist.

“Shit. So close.” He moaned in your ear as he brought his hand from your waist to your wet heat, his fingers massaging your little bundle of nerves.

“Cum for me Ragnar fill me up with your seed.” You moaned loudly before kissing him passionately.

Finally you felt your orgasm rip through you like lightening, your eyes falling shut as you pushed back against him, riding out your high as he finally came too. His hot seed filling you up so much you could feel it.

You didn’t get long to enjoy the aftermath as Ragnar flipped you back over and held you legs up in the air, your knees rest over his shoulders.

“Stay still sweet girl. Gotta make sure you stay filled up with me.” He groaned as he looked down at your abused hole.

You giggled at his actions but made no move to stand up, letting him have his way. You were starting to realised there wasn’t a lot you wouldn’t give to him.

After sometime he finally moved to wipe any spillage with a rag. You gave him a stuttered moan as he gave you a single lick his eyes filled with mischief.

“Beautiful.” He whispered before helping you up.

He didn’t leave immediately instead he pulled your firs over in front of the fireplace before starting a fire and laying down beckoning you over.

 “Your wife isn’t going to be happy.” You chuckled as you cuddled into his chest.

“Yes well I don’t much care.” He chuckled his hair undoing you braids gently, letting your hair fall free around your naked shoulders.

BANG!

“Y/N it worked she-” Rollo paused in his words as he took in your naked form cuddled up to his brother.

“Never mind we can talk tomorrow.” He snorted as he sent you a subtle wink.

“And what was that about my little vixen.” He asked in amusement.

“I may of given him tips on how to seduce your ex wife.” You smirked at him making him roll his eyes before placing a kiss on your lips.

“I can’t say I’m that surprised. Now come here, gonna fill you up again pretty girl.” Ragnar growled playfully making you giggle under him.

[artist-issues]

Reminder that making Loki and Sylvie romantic was not a huge mistake. It was very smart and very in-character.

Not because they love themselves. That’s just a very clever writer’s play on the Loki-Trope-words.

Because she’s the most not-him person that there is. He wants to be the center of attention. She wants to live a quiet life left alone. He wants to take thrones and rule. She wants to topple thrones and rulers. He wants to tyrannize and enslave. She wants to set whole realities free. He sets traps to defeat his most hated foes. She just runs up and stabs them. He never shuts up. She’s stoic and quiet.

To people who believe it’s weird or gross because “they share DNA” or “they’re siblings…” Yeah. They share the same DNA, clearly—just like the Alligator Loki! 🙄 And they share parents, clearly—oh, except they don’t, because Loki’s parents were the kind of people to hide his true origins from him, and Sylvie’s parents were as different from that as you can get. They don’t share DNA, they aren’t the same gender, they don’t share memories or a similar history, and they don’t even share a name. They’re not like the same person, and they’re not like siblings.

The places where they’re similar? Like Sylvie’s chip on her shoulder against those who’ve wronged her? They’re all the places Loki has grown out of, or is in the process of growing out of when he meets Sylvie—and she’s been hellbent on avenging herself against those who’ve wronged her for her whole life.

He’s in love with her because of the—say it with me—“Idea of Potential” that she represents.

It’s just like how Ariel is in love with Eric, even before she gets to know him, because all she needs to know is that his character traits match up with everything she’s always hoped humans could be like. All Loki needs to know about Sylvie is that her character traits match up with everything he’s always wished he could be:

Confident instead of pretending to be confident; heroic instead of pretending to be heroic; secure in who he is regardless of what people think of him; able to focus on something bigger than himself; etc. Loki’s never been able to be those things and even convinced himself he’s proud of pretending—but Sylvie genuinely is all those things.

And Sylvie? Since she was stolen from her home and family she has made no connections, had nobody care about her, and focused only on her mission. If she ever had dreams outside of that, it probably revolved around the idea of freedom. Then in comes this guy who not only expresses care for her, but is the type of guy who doesn’t let anybody tell him what he is or what to do—he can relate to her feelings of hurt, and eventually, tries to help her grow beyond them, too.

They both represent something that the other person has always wanted to do or be, and they both challenge each other, and they both have this big existential hole in their hearts of “nobody wants me or likes me” to relate to each other with.

How is this a mistake? It’s literally the smartest way they’ve ever had Loki make a connection with someone outside his adopted family. (Mobius is cool and all but he’s a Thor-stand-in for this Loki, who’s been ripped out of Thor’s timeline.)

I’m going to stop beating the dead horse, but basically, if you think Loki and Sylvie as a romantic couple is weird, try and look at it the way it actually is, instead of superimposing “female love interest bad” or catchy Internet memes like “Loki Show Approves Incest” over everything 🙄

[kylacxie]

no because im rewatching season 1 and i know this doesn’t follow lokis “glorious purpose” arc, but damn i kind of wish sylvie was the one on the throne at the end of time instead of loki. Since she killed HWR and essentially summoned infinite timelines, shouldn’t she atleast follow through and take up the responsibility of carrying out this desire?? See i understand life isnt fair but man rewatching s1e6 and seeing Loki begging her to consider the circumstances they’re in, i feel that glorious purpose shouldve been sylvies cause in a way she represented the people like her who had their lifes stolen by the TVA. Lokis whole gist was not wanting to be alone while sylvies was to escape everyone and everything, and look where they are now.

Not only that but Sylvie is Loki, therefore having the power that Loki has. It wouldn’t exactly be impossible for her to hold the timelines together. Realistically though Sylvie has been through enough suffering all her life and I wouldn’t want to do that to her. But do I want Loki to suffer the consequences of her ill-thought actions? absolutely not. I feel Loki was willing to accept the pain of his past and be a better person while Sylvie took hers and turned it into revenge.

[dilfmobius]

coming apart at the seams (lokius)

this is just something i wrote as a way to cope with the all the bad shit i've been feeling for the past few weeks (past several months really, but whose counting?), both physically and mentally. it's going to live here for now, not ao3, because it's really just 1,300 words of me projecting onto Loki. it's messy and maybe doesn't make a lot of sense, but i haven't had the spoons to write (or do anything really) and i need to release this. my body just feels like it's betraying me at every turn, and my mental health is all over the place (negatively).

anywaaaaay here's a snippet, the rest is under the cut:

“Maybe we should see someone,” Mobius says. “Like who? A midgardian doctor?” Loki balks at the thought. “And tell them what, exactly? That I had all of time woven through my entire being and it ate me alive? That everything hurts and my body doesn’t feel like my own, and I no longer feel a connection to my seiðr – oh, and by the way, I’m also a Norse God – got anything for me now?”

Loki sits hunched over the table, a mug of hot tea warming his hands. He takes deep breaths, focusing on the lavender and lemon balm filling his senses, pushing past the throbbing at the back of his skull.

It’s quiet and still, early morning light barely beginning to filter in through the window over the sink.

Loki hears faint footsteps approaching and lifts the mug to his mouth, blowing faintly before he takes a drink. It burns his throat going down and he squeezes his eyes shut, welcoming the heat as it travels to his belly.

It’s only when he feels Mobius’ hands on his shoulders that he drops them from under his ears.

He tilts his head back, resting against Mobius’ chest, and opens his eyes.

“Hey.” Mobius’ voice carries the smile in his eyes, soft and sweet. 

The corners of Loki’s mouth twitch in a pathetic attempt at smiling back, before his face drops back down into something a little less straining.

“You been awake long?” Mobius asks, rubbing his hands over Loki’s shoulders and upper arms.

“Mm,” is all Loki offers.

Mobius doesn't press. Instead he threads his fingers through Loki’s hair, gently massaging, hoping to pour every bit of comfort he can through his finger tips. Between the tea and Mobius’ skilled hands, Loki can feel his body relaxing, melting at the warmth.

“I’m going in today,” Mobius says softly. “Just some training B-15 wants me to be a part of. I  won’t be gone long.” 

Loki blinks his eyes open and stares up at Mobius, sensing the man’s hesitance to even mention work. After everything that happened, almost losing Loki to time, seeing how keeping the timelines together nearly destroyed the god, the last thing Mobius wanted was for Loki to go back to the TVA.

“It’s fine,” Loki says. “I’ll be fine.” He tries for a genuine smile, something to reassure Mobius that he won’t break apart while he’s gone.

Mobius bends down and presses a soft kiss to Loki’s forehead. They stay still for a little while longer, letting the songbirds outside their window fill in the silence.

When Mobius had brought up the idea of moving back down to the timeline, together, Loki was a mess. He insisted that he could still contribute to the important work they were doing. He could still be of use, and he wanted to be a part of the massive changes the TVA was undergoing. No one ever found out why time had spat him out, kicked him off his throne and back to the TVA, and it filled Loki with so much dread and guilt. Once again, that feeling of worthlessness – that he was never good enough – reared its ugly head. And the physical pain that had come along with it reminded Loki that he was only ever deserving of a life full of misery. 

Loki fought Mobius tooth and nail over leaving, accusing the man of coddling him and treating him like a child. Oh, Loki had been cruel and lashed out, in fear and pain. 

But Mobius, persistent and stubborn, would not let Loki wither away.

He had been a witness to Loki putting on a brave face, moving through the constant fatigue and pain, until he just couldn't anymore. Mobius had been there through sleepless nights, night terrors and flare-ups, and everytime someone mentioned how tired Loki looked only for Loki to brush it off and move on. 

A particularly bad flare-up had Mobius’ mind made up. Loki hadn’t been able to leave his bed for a few days, basic tasks damn near impossible without someone’s help. Mobius was always that someone, he was always there no matter what. As much as Loki was comforted by having him there, taking care of him, he couldn’t help the constant guilt and shame filling him up, wrapping itself around his bones and muscles along with the pain.

Mobius had declared that he was leaving the TVA and Loki was coming with him, whether he liked it or not. Loki didn’t have the energy to argue, and Mobius wasn’t particularly proud of how he brought it up, but after shedding many tears and finally drilling it into Loki’s head that there was no greater purpose for Mobius than to take care of the God of Mischief, the choice had been made.

Mobius thought being somewhere, anywhere, other than the TVA would help Loki heal. He had hoped that connecting back to his seiðr, his healing magic, would somehow fix everything. 

Oh, how wrong he’d been.

It’s been months and Loki was still plagued with nightmares, migraines, and aches that coursed through his body daily. 

They hadn’t talked about it, but Loki’s magic hadn’t made an appearance, and he had become an anxious mess, retreating into himself. Mobius would walk in on Loki desperately trying to conjure and cast, ultimately tiring himself out – emotionally and physically. It was hard enough to watch – Mobius couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Loki.

—

“Maybe we should see someone,” Mobius says.

“Like who? A midgardian doctor?” Loki balks at the thought. “And tell them what, exactly? That I had all of time woven through my entire being and it ate me alive? That everything hurts and my body doesn’t feel like my own, and I no longer feel a connection to my seiðr – oh, and by the way, I’m also a Norse God – got anything for me now?” 

“We could go to New Asgard –”

“Absolutely not – I doubt there would be anyone who could help me anyway.”

“Then we go to Asgard, before Ragnarok –”

“No, Mobius,” Loki says, shutting down any and all Asgard talk. He’s not ready for any of that. 

Loki pinches the bridge of his nose and sinks further into the pillows surrounding him on their bed, shame and guilt bubbling in his gut. He reminds himself that Mobius is only trying to help, to be supportive in a situation neither of them know how to navigate.

Mobius pushes away from his spot, leaning against the doorway to their bedroom, so he can join Loki. He replaces a few of the pillows with himself, nudging Loki over a bit (not that Loki was in any mood to protest), carefully slipping his arm around Loki’s thin waist. It doesn’t take much for Mobius to hoist Loki onto his lap, settling him in between his own legs, back to chest. 

Loki goes willingly, ignoring that voice in his head that tells him he wants to be left alone – he doesn't. He wants Mobius near him, he wants Mobius’ arms around him, to be held together by the love and grace of this one man. He might fall apart otherwise.

Loki allows himself this simple pleasure, to be enveloped by Mobius, swathed in a warmth he never thought he would be able to feel. He wishes this alone could heal him. Loki feels Mobius rest his chin on his shoulder, so Loki turns his head to nuzzle into the scruff on Mobius’ face. 

“You need to shave,” Loki says, plainly.

Mobius huffs out a small laugh, and returns the favor by rubbing his rough cheek against the much softer skin of Loki’s. Mobius tightens his grip around Loki’s waist, and Loki brings up a hand to run his fingers through Mobius’ hair.

Loki will let himself have this.

“What about the TVA?” Mobius asks, breaking the spell in the room. Loki groans. 

“And what, in all the nine realms, can the TVA do for me?” Loki asks.

“We can visit the medical wing, maybe they can do some scans – it seems like everyday they're figuring out something new, ways to treat all kinds of things – I don’t know…” Mobius trails off, only a little bit frustrated.

None of this is Loki’s fault, or anyone’s fault, they’re just playing the hand they’ve been dealt. And both Loki and Mobius are nothing if not adaptable.

Loki shifts and twists himself around to get a better look at Mobius, searching his face for… something. 

An answer or solution. 

Mobius always had an answer for everything.

Then again, so did Loki.

But all Loki finds when he looks into those clear blue eyes, past the fear and worry, is love.

His eyes begin to sting and he squeezes them shut.

“Okay.” Loki says.

“Okay.” Mobius replies.